In the few short weeks I've been here, I've discovered that there is no relief from the heat in July in Florida, not even at night. I press my cold Corona to my chest and a bead of sweat drips from the bottle and rolls down my breast under my bikini top. I look up at the fans hanging from the rafters underneath the thatch roof and they're spinning so fast they're wobbling as if they're just one weak screw from falling. Despite their efforts, the air in this hut they call a bar is still stagnant. I ask the bartender for another beer then return to my table of newly acquired friends who were kind enough to invite me to a party for someone I've never met. I felt odd accepting the invitation, but they all insisted, saying it would be a good chance for me to meet more new people. I take my seat next to Nick who I'm pretty sure has been flirting with me all evening, but he could just be a really friendly guy. I don't know him well enough to make that call.
"My god, is it always this hot?" I holler over the steel drums.
"Pretty much," Nick says. "You'll get used to it."
Wearing nothing but my bikini and pair of daisy dukes, I'm one hundred percent certain I'll never get used to this heat. "Yeah, right," I laugh.
"It's actually cooler down by the water if you want to go for a walk," he says.
I look toward the gulf and see the faint reflection of the moon. It seems a football field of sand separates the shoreline from the bar. I'm squinting, trying to see the surf.
"It's really not that far," Nick says.
"It's pretty dark, though," I say looking up at the half moon, partially covered by clouds.
"We have our phones," he says standing and grabbing me by the wrist. "C'mon," he tugs at my arm, "it's nice down there."
I take a swig of my beer and reluctantly stand. "Okay, but there better not be sharks," I say as I pick up my beach bag and place it on my chair. After quickly asking Janie to keep an eye on it for me, Nick pulls me out onto the sand. Surprisingly it's cool beneath my feet. "Oh my god, this feels amazing," I say as I shuffle my feet through the powdery white sand.
"I told you it was nice," he says.
"It's better than nice. I want to roll my whole body in it."
"Whatever floats your boat," he laughs as his long strides propel him in front of me.
The clouds have parted and I can see more of him. The moonlight is flattering, casting shadows that show off the definition of his shoulders and triceps, not that I didn't notice his physique back at the bar.
"C'mon," he turns to face me, now walking backwards. His chest is just as nice as his backside and now I'm wondering what it would be like to lay on top of him and snuggle my face against his smooth pecs.
He races toward me and with one swipe of his right arm, lifts me so that my body is hanging by his waist. "Slow poke," he says laughing.
"Hey, put me down," I'm giggling uncontrollably as I pinch his side and kick my feet. He reaches his left arm under me and grabs ahold of my hip and with and one quick motion hoists me up so that my legs are straddling his waist. "Oh!" I cry out with amazement at both his strength and what I can only assume is his dick poking my rear.
Holding me, he runs toward the water. My arms are wrapped around his neck holding on for dear life. If he trips I'm dead meat. A pancake on the sand. He's gotta be two hundred pounds of pure muscle. And I'm a mere one-twenty soaking wet.
"No, no, no," I'm begging as he runs into the gulf, water splashing my hanging legs.
"It's okay," he reassures, "I'll keep you safe," he says gently releasing me from his grip. I slide down his body and land in six inches of what feels like very warm bath water.
