Proofreader's Note: English is not mildhot's first language. Be patient and enjoy.
Author's note: Thank you patientlee for your patience and effort.
Julie had just turned eighteen. She was over six feet tall with short, black hair. She had big, brown eyes and perfect, chiseled features. She had beautiful, 36 C-sized breasts and an athletic body with long, brown legs.
She was beautiful and she knew it, but she hated the attention her beauty drew. She always wore boyish, baggy jeans with a T-shirt, and she usually covered her short haircut with a baseball cap.
Her mother, who had pressured her into participating in beauty contests when she was young, hated the way she hid her beauty, but Julie didn't care. She just wanted to finish school then go to any university to get a degree in anything.
Even this holiday was not her idea of fun because she could not hide her body on the beach. Her usual beach wear was denim shorts and a wetsuit-type top. She didn't realize it, but trying to look less sexy actually had the opposite effect. Her long legs were always tanned as she loved going on long hikes on her own. The denim shorts accented her long legs and tight butt. The wetsuit showed off her full boobs, and when it got wet, her long nipples poked through the fabric.
She noticed the guy on the beach as he was a bit overdressed. He had on long pants that he had turned up to walk on the sand. He was wearing a dress shirt and big modern sun glasses.
She felt his eyes on her butt, but she ignored him like all the others. She went for a swim, and walked out of the water to her towel. He looked on as two college guys tried to chat her up with a lame excuse. She dismissed them, not being too friendly.
"Stuck up bitch," she heard when they walked away.
It didn't even bug her, as she was in her own little world. It wasn't as if she didn't have any sexual feelings, but for the time being she was very happy with her little toys that she always carried with her. She enjoyed playing with herself and she realized long ago that she was multi-orgasmic. She came every private chance she got, but it was only her toys with no other fantasies. She got rid of her hymen a long time ago with one of her bigger toys.
She had kissed boys before, but it irritated her. She once had a heavy petting session with one of her father's friends, in which she almost went all the way, but after he came in her mouth he couldn't get it up again.
That was the last of her experiences with men, and she didn't even think about a repeat performance.
She still felt the stranger's eyes on her as she took a novel from her bag. It was late afternoon and she caught the last sun while reading her book.
"What the fuck?" she grumbled to herself when she felt a shadow over her.
She shaded her eyes with her hand while she looked up with an irritated look on her face.
It was the stranger, smiling down at her with his perfect white teeth. He didn't say anything, and just kept on smiling. She couldn't help but notice his deep blue eyes. It was a strange combination with his dark hair and complexion.
"What?" she barked, very irritated at the disturbance.
He was tall, dark and very handsome. She almost laughed at her random first impression. He had those boyish good looks that made it difficult to determine his age. She guessed that he was in his early to mid-thirties.
"Hi there," he said and she was surprised at his deep voice.
"Can I help you?" she answered, just wanting the guy to disappear.
He didn't answer but just sat down next to her. She sat up looking at the uninvited guest.
"I am kind of busy, what do you want?" she spat at him.
He just sat there, staring over the ocean. She looked up and thought about what a beautiful sight it was with the sun setting over the horizon. She decided that she had had enough.
"Please go away," she said, standing up and gathering her things.
He stood up and offered her his hand.
"Mike Jones," he said taking her hand in his.
His hands were warm and soft. She looked at his well-manicured fingernails and then she smelled him. It was a delicate, manly smell. His aftershave was not over powering, but just right.
She shrugged her shoulders and pulled her hand out of his. She turned around to leave, thinking that he was going to stop her, but he didn't.
She felt his eyes on her as she walked away. She was irritated, but she also felt strangely good.
She walked to the parking lot and looked back at the beach. She saw him sitting there, staring at the ocean. It was getting dark, and she saw the glow of a cigarette, or maybe a cigar.
"Who cares?" she thought as she sped away in her car. She enjoyed speed and although the car was an old buggy, she got the most out of it. She was an aggressive driver, and she felt like she owned the road.
She drove fast, weaving through the traffic, annoyed at the slow pace of the holiday-goers.
Her family's beach house was on a long, private stretch of beach. She never thought about it, but her parents must be quite well off. They owned a few properties, and even though they only used it once or twice a year, this house had a year-round, full-time staff.
She parked the buggy in front, knowing that it would irritate her fastidious father. Order in his household and order in his life were of utmost importance to him. He was some kind of big shot at the stock market, but all his talk about buy-outs and take-overs went in one ear and out the other.
