Bill leaned against the balcony railing and looked out over the Atlantic Ocean. He had picked up the key to the condo at the rental office and driven the few blocks to the "Verandas" condominium building in a driving rain. The parking garage was full of families preparing to spend a week at Myrtle Beach, S. C. and one of the elevators was not working forcing him to wait with his one little bag while parents tried to keep their excited kids under control until their turn on the elevator.
Thanks to one of those kids who pushed every button, the elevator stopped at every floor until he was the only one left when the doors opened on the eighth floor. The key fit and he walked in and surveyed the condo. The place looked and smelled clean and he dropped his bag on the living room sofa on his way to the balcony overlooking the ocean.
"This will do just fine," he said to no one as he sniffed the salt air.
He was high enough to still hear the sound of the surf but too high to hear most of the screaming and yelling coming from the people playing on the sandy beach and running in and out of the surf. Directly below him was a pool area complete with a spa and what they called a lazy river where mostly kids allowed themselves to be carried around a circular pool by an artificial current.
A bursting bladder prompted him to quickly find the bathroom and he leaned against the wall with one hand while holding himself with the other to avoid having his stream miss the toilet. The bathroom and the shower looked clean and shiny and he could see the reflection of the neatly made up king sized bed in the bathroom mirror and the ocean beyond through the sliding glass doors.
"Too bad I'll be sleeping alone," he thought as he shook a few drops off of the end of his cock and tucked himself back into his shorts.
Now that Sandy was out of his life he wondered where he would go from here. He had forgotten about the reservations she had made for the condo until he got a telephone call reminding him that check-in time was Saturday at 4 p.m. He had debated about going but decided that he needed a break from work before he went nuts.
It was a little more than a month ago when he had come home from a business trip and found the apartment to be empty of her belongings. He called Sandy's cell phone and she answered on the second ring. She wouldn't tell him where she was but she did tell him that she was not coming back. According to her, his work was the root of their problems and she was tired of playing second fiddle to his clients. With not much more than that statement as an explanation, their three-year relationship evaporated into thin air and here he was - a 35-year old bachelor on vacation from himself.
Sandy never answered any more of his calls and he gave up after a week of trying to contact her.
The rain had stopped and Bill was hungry. He had forgotten on which level of the parking garage he had parked and he finally found his car after walking up and down the ramps trying to appear like he was not looking for his lost car. A food stand on Main Street caught his eye and there was a handy parking place almost in front of it. An Italian sausage on a bun loaded with fried onions, peppers, and yellow mustard took care of his immediate hunger before he headed to the supermarket. The store was crowded with arriving vacationers doing the same thing that he was but soon a shopping cart full of soda, beer, and the other bachelor nutrition essentials were quickly loaded into his car and just as quickly stashed in their rightful places in the empty cupboards and refrigerator of the condo's kitchen.
After eating a sandwich and drinking a can of soda, he took a quick shower and decided to take a look around. It was dinnertime so the beach was nearly empty and the tide was almost out when Bill left his footprints just out of reach of the lapping waters. It felt good to walk shirtless and in bare feet in the cool sand. The sun was still hot and he remembered that he had not thought to bring sun block or a beach chair.
