Incest/Taboo Back Home for the Holidays

With my arms around him, Raul pulled his hand from off my back and tugged open my robe. It fell aside easily and I didn't resist. He ran his hand along my stomach and cupped one of my tits. His hands were big, strong, and rough.

He broke the kiss and looked down at my naked body. I dropped my arms behind me and let my robe fall to the floor. "Eres sumamente bonita" he breathed.

Taking that as a compliment I smiled and wrapped both of my hands around his hard cock. As I began stroking him I realized his cock was uncircumcised. I pushed the foreskin down, revealing the broad head, which flared out even wider than the shaft. The skin was soft and warm against my palms. I needed no foreplay and neither did he, so I said, "Shut up and fuck me."

Raul smiled at me. He understood exactly what I had said to him. His cock grew even harder in my hands. He gently but powerfully gripped my waist and lifted me off the ground. With my hands still stroking his raging prick, he lifted me until my crotch was above the flaring head.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and with my fingers I nestled the tip of the massive meat-stick against my wet yearning pussy. I pushed the foreskin down his shaft again and worked the head up and down the length of my pussy, spreading the juices of my already-wet cunt all around. Then, finally, I nestled the tip at the entrance to my fuck-hole and gave him a nod.

Raul lowered me slowly, not wanting to hurt me. Though my cunt was dripping wet, it was still tough getting the big dick inside me. The massive girth of his prick stretched me painfully.

"So fucking big," I groaned as I held onto his shoulders and guided my body down slowly onto his pole.

He moaned into my ear as I worked my body up and down on his cock. I rose up a little and pressed down a lot on every stroke, trying to get his thick prick inside my tight hole. It was working, half an inch at a time.

After a couple dozen strokes I felt the head of his dick against the bottom of my cunt, piercing me as deeply as possible. There was still an inch to go, but he would have to stretch me deeper if he wanted to fit it all in.

"Tight," he moaned. He knew that word.

"Big," I replied, not wanting to test my language skills by attempting any more Spanish, especially with my head swimming with such a sweet mixture of pain and pleasure.

I lifted my body up his and then back down over and over. After about a dozen more strokes the pain began to dissipate leaving only the pleasure of being completely filled by a massive prick. My eyes glazed over with lust as I worked my body up and down.

Raul, his hands still gripping my waist, began to take over. He lifted me up and down on his cock faster and faster. His lust for me was overtaking him.

Finally, I stopped trying to fuck him and let him have his way with me. The distraction of trying to fuck him was holding my approaching orgasm at bay, as was the painful initial stretching. Now, as I relaxed, the only thing distracting me was the brutal pounding the back of my cunt was taking.

Raul used me like he owned me. He easily worked me up and down his shaft like I was a fuck doll or some sort of masturbation device. He was so strong that my one hundred and fifteen pounds was like nothing to him.

"Yes, use me," I groaned as I let myself go. The pleasure of his massive prick hammering deep inside of me washed away all sense of place and time. I had no idea where I was. All I knew was that I wanted the pounding of my cunt to go on forever.

Raul had stretched me deeply enough that his balls were slapping firmly against my ass, his entire prick hilted all the way inside of me on every single stroke. The slapping sounds of his hips against mine filled my ears and the smell of my fuck juices filled my nose.

"Fuck me," I urged.

Normally my orgasms come on much faster but the slow buildup to this one let me know it was going to be a big one. The pleasure swirling inside of me was absolute and I felt like I was being consumed by it. I let it happen. I didn't know where my orgasm was, but I didn't really care. The sweet stretching and rubbing of my pussy walls felt so fucking good, I could have stayed right there forever.

Then, it all happened at once. Raul's cock expanded even more inside of my cunt and I knew he was past the point of being able to hold back any longer. He blasted his sweet cum inside of me, grunting in pleasure. The feeling of his warm seed deep inside of me finally pushed me over the edge and I came.

Pure pleasure exploded in my brain as I lost all sense of time and space. The warm juices filling my cunt was the center of my world as my orgasm washed over me. I writhed uncontrollably in ecstasy, his cock locked firm, deep inside of my tight cunt.

We both moaned and gasped, lost in our own separate pleasure, though we were physically as close as two people could be. My legs gripped his waist as his strong hands held my ass, both of us savoring the bliss. This went on for at least a minute; maybe three.

Raul finally faltered and sat down on the balcony chair, his cock still hard and throbbing inside of me.

I lay against him, enjoying the feel of his massive meaty spike slowly deflating inside my sated cunt. His warm cum mixed with my girl-cum and slowly leaked out of me making a mess of both of us. Neither of us much cared in that moment.

I slept fitfully.

John had not awakened when I finally made it to bed after taking a second shower to clean the sweat and cum off of me. I didn't bother him. Even though I had been the last to bed, I was the first to get up.

At seven-thirty the next morning the whole condo was still asleep. I rejected waking John up. I threw on my other bikini, a white little number with a red, green, and yellow flower print on it. Each hip had a tie off and the top tied together behind my neck, under my hair. I slipped on my sandals, grabbed my purse and a towel, and headed for the beach, leaving a note on the dining room table to let everyone know where to find me.

I had to get out of that place and clear my head. John never roused the entire night. I hadn't seen any sign of Kate since supper the previous evening.

When the elevator let out on the ground floor I realized that I didn't know exactly how to get to the beach so I asked the concierge for directions. He said, "Take 14 east, right on Alton, and left on 11. Take 11 all the way to the beach. Would you like me to call a taxi?"

"No," I told him, "That's okay. I'll walk."

He looked surprised and asked, "Are you sure? It's nearly twenty blocks."

It looked so much closer from the balcony on the ninth floor. I said, "In that case, yes, please."

Ten minutes later and I was in a cab heading for the beach. I laid my towel down on the taxi seat before I sat down, though.

The homes lining some of the roads in South Beach were beautiful. They were packed close together with the occasional multi-story hotel here and there. There were palm trees everywhere. It was beautiful.

When we arrived at the beach I paid the taxi with my debit card and got out.

The beach and the ocean beyond were just gorgeous. There were a few people on the beach, but none in swimwear as it was still a little cool. Some of the people on the beach were picking up trash that had washed ashore overnight or been left by the previous night's revelers. The street I was on was busy, with pedestrians and traffic galore, despite the early hour and it being a Sunday morning. Everyone but me was dressed against the cold.

The wind was coming out of the west and was blocked by most of the buildings, so that wasn't too bad, but there was quite a nip in the air. Though I had lived in Denver for a long time, I had recently spent a whole week in Louisiana and was nearly naked, so the cold was getting to me a bit. I was surprised by how quickly I had begun to acclimatize to the warmer temperatures.

Across the street I spotted a little sidewalk café half a block away called "News Café". I went inside to get warm and hopefully find a little breakfast.

The place looked to be a combination newspaper stand and café. They had newspapers from every major city and even a few foreign ones. A sign informed me they were open twenty-four hours. I thought for a moment I had caught them just opening.

They had many tables outside, intermixed with several tropical trees. A jazz song I didn't recognize was playing lightly. About half of the tables were occupied with tourists. They all looked at me as I approached. They were in long-sleeved shirts while I was showing all this skin.

I slipped inside. The smell was a little sour but it was warm. The main room wasn't very large, with signed pictures of celebrities adorning the walls. There were a few tables inside but the room was dominated by the rectangular bar in the middle.

I decided to sit at the bar, with my towel covering a stool, since it provided a better view of the beach and ocean out the large windows. The sun was a good bit above the horizon, casting its glow directly into the little room. I sat with my back to it to let it warm me. The room was warm enough but I was taking warmth wherever I could get it. I was really regretting my choice of wardrobe.

There were several waiters and waitresses on the opposite side of the bar, chatting. The bartender, a cute guy in a clean white dress shirt, told me with an Australian accent, "I'm sorry, ma'am. We can't serve alcohol before eight."

I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was 7:55. I chuckled. "I wasn't planning on it but if I were, I think I could wait the five minutes."

He smiled and asked, "So, what can I get you, pretty lady?"

"Hot chocolate? I'm cold," I told him.

He smirked and said, "Dressed in that outfit, I don't doubt it. We had a cool night but the weather says it's going to be clear and warm today. You really should have a coat or something to cover up with. Carrie?"

A cute blonde waitress dressed in a white shirt with her dirty-blond hair pulled back tightly into a ponytail approached us. She took out her pen and pad as she looked me up and down slowly with a sour expression on her face. "Yeah?"

The bartender said, "Can you get this pretty thing some hot chocolate?"

Carrie raised her eyebrows at that and looked at me skeptically. She didn't say anything as she jotted something down on her pad, and headed toward the kitchen. Her black slacks showed off her firm ass very well.

"Thanks," I said, giving the bartender my best smile.

He flashed me a smile and said, "Oh, don't mention it, sweet thing. If you need anything at all, just let me know. The name's Lucky."

"Lucky?" I asked. His nametag read Lachlan. "Your nametag says lack-LAN," I said, guessing at the pronunciation.

He laughed. "Well, it's pronounced LAHK-lan, like the lochs in Scotland. It's a pretty common name in Australia."

"Is it? I've never heard it before. So, why 'Lucky'?" I asked.

"Well, nobody knows how to pronounce it here in the States. Most pronounce it LOCK-lan. My mates started calling me LOCK-ie and that just changed over time to Lucky," he explained.

I nodded. "That makes sense, I suppose."

As a group of four men sat down at the bar Lachlan said, "Besides, my mates complain all the time that I'm so lucky to meet the most beautiful women in the world here on South Beach... like you."

Before I could respond, other than smiling at the compliment, he turned and asked the men what they wanted. He proceeded to serve them beer. It was after eight o'clock. The men looked tired from partying the previous night. Though they ogled me, I ignored them.

Carrie brought me hot chocolate and, despite me giving her a sweet smile and a "thanks", she said nothing and laid the bill down beside me on the bar. It was too bad because I thought she was pretty hot. It's always a shame when someone ruins their attractiveness by being rude.

I noticed that the bill had a built-in fifteen percent gratuity to the overly-expensive hot chocolate. I would have to see about adjusting that or speaking to the manager, I told myself as I blew on the steaming cup.

I sipped carefully. It was delicious. I have to give them that. It warmed my stomach and slowly I was beginning to feel normal again.

I watched Lucky work behind the bar. I found him sexy, especially his accent, but I also started thinking about John. I thought back on everything he had done and I realized that he hadn't really done anything out of the ordinary. I missed him.

As I slowly drained the cup the bar became more crowded. The din was pretty loud in short order. Thankfully, nobody bothered me. I decided that I was going to return to Kate's, apologize for my behavior, and maybe even fuck John on the couch while Kate watched. The thought of it instantly turned me on so I knew it was a good idea. I could just imagine the look on John's face. Then we would come back here and have lunch. Yep, that was a good plan.

I paid the bill with the cash I had in my purse, waved goodbye to a disappointed but busy Lucky, and walked out of News Café. I hailed a cab and told him to take me to the Flamingo, South Tower. I was there within five minutes.

The clock in the elevator told me it was past eight-thirty. I had been gone for over an hour. I assumed they would be up by then; probably having breakfast. I used the keycard Kate had given me to open the door to the condo and walked on in. I dropped my purse on the little table in the foyer and strode into the living room.

The sights and sounds that greeted me were all too familiar, given my lifestyle.

John, standing right in front of the couch, had his back to me. He was naked, his swimming trunks down around his ankles.

Kate was sitting on the couch in front of him. I could see her body from between his legs. She was dressed in the same leopard print bikini she had worn the day before.

I heard Kate hiss, "Yeah, that's it, give me that fucking cum." I could see her arm working vigorously from around John's left hip, presumably stroking his cock.

I then heard John grunt in orgasm.

At this point Kate leaned forward and all was silence for a moment.

Jealously rose up in me. I tried to hold it down. I had seen this happen before; a woman blowing John; him coming her mouth. It happened all the time at home, albeit, never when I wasn't present. I had never been taken by surprise like that. I completely lost control of my emotions in that single moment. I asked incredulously, "What the fuck is going on here?"

John craned his head around to look at me. He furrowed his brow and said, "Babe? We were just getting ready to go find you on the beach." He was a little flushed and out of breath.

I was stunned that he would say this with Kate still sucking cum out of his cock. Jealousy and rage clouded my vision and I screamed, "You are so full of shit!"

Kate poked her head from around John's left hip. She had a slight smile and traces of John's cream on her lips.

John looked confused. He turned around, his cock still semi-hard from his orgasm. He asked, "What's the matter?"

"'What's the matter?'" I yelled. "I return to find you coming into Kate's mouth and you ask me 'what's the matter?'"

Kate said, "You did say you were going to share him and he is just a man, after all."

"'Share him', sure, but not when I'm not even around," I said. My voice was easily five times louder than theirs, or at least that's the way it seemed to me.

"Since when?" John challenged.

"It's not fucking sharing if I'm not around, now is it?" I asked.

"Sure it is," Kate said, getting to her feet.

"No it isn't!" I screamed.

John pulled his trunks up and asked, "Hey, you said you were sharing me. That's the same as when you tell me to go fuck one of our friends because you're on your period."

"No it isn't. Besides, when I tell you that, you never do!" I told him loudly.

"So you don't really mean it?" he asked.

I was a little stymied on that one but the rage took over and I pressed on. "Sure I do but this is completely different. I'm not on my period. I'm fucking horny and you won't even look at me," I shouted.

Kate chimed in and asked, "Horny? You fucked Raul last night and you're still horny?"

"What?" John said. "You fucked Raul last night? You were the one that made us go to bed when I really wanted to stay up. I'm the one that was horny."

"Well, why didn't you say something then?" I asked.

"You didn't give me a chance to say anything. Hell, I thought at least we could fuck when we went to bed, but looks like you found Raul first," he said. I knew he wasn't comfortable fighting like this in front of Kate but his anger was overcoming him.

I was losing a little steam. John had never stood up to me this long and I had never been on weaker ground. So, I got desperate and said something I really shouldn't have. I said, "I did come to bed, but you had fallen asleep. You know, if you had wanted to get laid last night you could have done any number of things. You could have said something. You could have joined me in the shower. You could have stayed up until I got out of the shower. But, no, you didn't. You went to sleep. You snooze, you lose!"

I could see on his face that I had hurt him with that comment. He said calmly, which I hated, "Really? Is that how it is? You can fuck my sister. You can fuck Raul. You can fuck whoever you want but if I get one little blowjob, you explode?"

"Because I wasn't there!" I insisted, my voice still raised but not nearly as loud.

Still calm on the outside, though I could see he was very angry, John said, "I wasn't there when you fucked my sister. I wasn't there last night with Raul."

"You were under the same roof!" I said.

"I was asleep. How is that any different than you being a couple blocks away?" he pressed, raising his voice to a volume he has never used against me before.

"It just is," I replied defiantly. It sounded stupid to me even as I said it. I wanted to say more, but I couldn't find the words. I had no idea how to explain the difference, to him or myself.

"Look, the only rules we have it to be honest with each other and to never be jealous. I've been jealous over lots of things you've done but I've kept my mouth shut," John said, his tone starting calm but growing louder and more aggressive as he spoke.

Kate interjected, "Told you so."

I knew Kate was trying to make the point about men being jealous, but I was the one that was acting on that jealousy. I was the one that was flying off the handle. I was the one that was being possessive and trying to own John.

He continued without acknowledging that Kate has said anything. He was too wrapped up in making his own point. He nearly shouted, "You're the one that hates negative emotions. So what the fuck do you call this?"

That was like a splash of cold water to me. He was dead right on and I knew it. I was at a loss for words. I was so embarrassed. I had never had such strong feelings of jealously before in my entire life and I had no idea how to handle them. I only knew that I hurt inside.

I felt the tears begin to well up in my eyes. I couldn't face them. I had to get away. I grabbed my purse and headed out the door.

"Where the fuck are you going?" John shouted.

I didn't look back as I pulled the door closed behind me and headed for the elevator. Thankfully, the elevator doors opened with the first press of the call button and I slipped inside. I hit the lobby button as I heard the door to the condo open. As the elevator doors closed I saw John. I couldn't tell what the expression was on his face in the brief moment I had before the doors closed completely because the tears made it too difficult to see.

I cried in the elevator as it made its way to the ground floor. I felt so stupid. All I could think was how I had screwed everything up so royally in only one day.

John was jealous. I had not known that. Well, at least not consciously. I thought I had found someone who could love me and share my lifestyle at the same time, but now I found out that he was jealous that whole time. I wasn't so upset at the revelation itself, though it was a little troubling that he had really never said anything about it. No, what really upset me was the realization that I must have hurt him so many times without even realizing it.

All that was bad enough, but now here I was being jealous. I didn't understand the source of it but I knew that it was completely out of character for me. One time, at The Sophisticate's Club, I had watched John get blown by two girls at the same time while a third sat on his face, and I hadn't a single twinge of jealousy. On the contrary, I had felt proud of him.

I knew he loved me and we would always come home together. He wasn't going to leave me for anyone. I knew how hot I was. True or not, I had that confidence. So, why was I jealous this time and not at any time before?

When the elevator let out I walked through the lobby and out into the street. I flagged down a taxi and told him to take me to a secluded beach. I needed to get away and that was the only thing I could think to do.

The driver appeared to be Cuban and I didn't think he really understood what I was asking, but I didn't really care since he took off driving immediately. That's all I really wanted him to do; just drive. I didn't care where I ended up at that moment.

I needed to make sense of it all. It was a beautiful day, the sun bright and the sky clear. Happy people roamed about, most heading for the beach.

Though I wiped the tears from my eyes, more followed. I had to figure this out. How could I face them again?

I had to get away. I needed time to think.

The cab driver headed east toward the beach and then turned left. With the ocean and the rising sun to my right, we travelled north quite a ways. I wondered for a moment where he was taking me and how much the cab ride would cost but I really didn't care.

My phone rang in my purse.

I knew from the ringtone that it was John calling. Tears filled my eyes as I realized that I was too embarrassed to talk to him. What was I going to say? 'It's okay for me to be crazy-jealous but don't you be jealous at all'? Besides, how could I explain my jealous feelings to him when I didn't understand them myself?

Now, I knew that most women get jealous of other women trying to take their man but I was raised entirely differently than most. I was taught from a very early age that jealousy was bad. Jealousy was about wanted to hold on to people and that 'having' people was wrong. It was akin to slavery. It was wrong to want to enslave someone and it was equally wrong to willingly allow yourself to be enslaved. So, I had no frame of reference for these feelings. I didn't know where they came from and I didn't know what to do with them.

I just needed some space. I needed room to breathe and think. I needed to figure out where these feelings were coming from before I went off and said something as hurtful as 'you snooze, you lose' to him again. I was so embarrassed and ashamed that I had hurt John like that. He deserved a little time away from my craziness.

"Are you okay?" the cabbie asked me with a thick Cuban accent.

I said, "I'm fine."

The cabbie took that as a 'mind your own business', just as I had intended. He didn't ask me anything else as he drove.

I looked at him as best I could through the tears and studied his license picture. He was handsome in a rough and exotic sort of way. Well, living in Denver, he was exotic to me.

If it had been just the day before, I would have taken him back to Kate's and fucked his brains out. I would have told John all about it or, better yet, invited him to join in. I would have thought either way was fine. I had no idea that it would probably have hurt John. Now, all I wanted was everything to be alright between us.

What was wrong with me? I felt jealousy, embarrassment, shame, guilt, and anger. All emotions I hated and tried to stay as far away from as possible. Maybe, if I had such feelings more often I would have known better how to deal with them.

Now, even at the time I knew that running away was stupid. I knew I was being immature and acting like a child. Problem was, I couldn't help it. What happened to all of the maturity and worldliness I knew I had? Where had it all gone?

The cabbie pulled into a beach called Haulover. I had never heard of it before but if it was secluded and I could have some time to think, I didn't care. As I paid him the fare, I wondered how I would get back to Kate's, but then decided to worry about it later.

My phone rang again in my purse but, again, I ignored it. I knew it was a stupid thing to do. I couldn't avoid everyone forever. Still, I hadn't figured anything out, besides the fact that I now felt stupid in addition to all of the other negative emotions. I supposed that emotion was self-pity, one that I hated more than most. Why was I feeling like that?

There were several cars in the parking lot, which made me wonder just how secluded the beach really was. One of the cars had apparently just arrived as four men got out and headed out of the parking lot. They were smiling and laughing, all dressed in very small swim trunks.

I decided to follow them as they headed toward a tunnel. I walked around a couple of cars and saw that the tunnel was short and led to the beach. The tunnel was clean and the walls were painted pink. I ventured inside.

The air was warming up nicely and I was starting to feel a little better. When I emerged on the far side of the tunnel I glanced at the typical beach sign indicating no glass bottles and such like that. But I noticed that a smaller sign below that one warned that I was entering a clothing optional section of beach.

A public nude beach in Florida? I had no idea such a thing existed. This was real progress.

I walked over the rise and saw the men veering to the left where, beyond, there were quite a number of men and a few women. A beach volleyball game was in progress and the men playing were all completely naked.

I noticed to my right there was a mix of couples and groups of older men dotting the beach, also all completely nude. There were lifeguard stations with men on duty. I was glad to see that.

Ever the procrastinator, I put off thinking about my problems to sit and watch a game of nude beach volleyball. Many of the spectators were still wearing clothing as they waited for it to warm up a bit more but the nude participants were sweating.

I laid my towel down beside a pretty dark-haired woman with a deep tan. She wore a jacket over her bikini as she watched the game, whooping and hollering encouragement like most were. When she saw me she flashed me a smile.

She was very pretty, despite her nose being a little on the large side. She looked faintly Italian, which I found very attractive. I smiled back at her as I adjusted my towel in the soft white sand.

After turning her attention back to the game for a moment the woman looked at me curiously and asked, "I haven't seen you around. Have you been to Haulover before?" She had no accent that I could discern.

I shook my head. "I had no idea there were any public nude beaches in the whole country."

"I think there's another one in New Jersey," she said. "Anyway, just so you know, this isn't like South Beach. The cops don't look the other way here. That makes it a bit safer, even though it's more restrictive."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I'm just saying that the cops on this beach won't stand for any lewd behavior like they will on South Beach," she told me.

"I guess that makes sense," I told her after thinking about it for a moment. "If they legally let you take your clothes off but then look the other way when people take it too far then the nude beach becomes notorious and they have to shut it down."

She nodded. "We need to protect our right to be nude at the beach by showing everyone that we can behave ourselves."

I nodded sagely at that and then smiled at her. I said, "My name is Robin, by the way."

"Nice to meet you Robin, I'm Claire," she told returning a smile. "This is an awesome beach for avoiding tan lines, but I hardly ever see redheads at the beach. Can you tan?"

I shook my head. "I freckle and burn." I fished out my sunscreen and said, "SPF 50! I just like the beach. I see you tan well, though. You are so dark."

She nodded as she shrugged off her jacket. Her shoulders were quite dark. She then pulled the tie behind her neck and let the front of her bikini drop down, revealing her large tits. They were darkly tanned and the nipples were naturally dark as well, making them blend together. "See? No lines," she told me, proudly.

"Wow," I said, suitably impressed. A woman boldly taking her top off in front of me in public was turning me on, but I didn't know if she swung that way so I tried to remain diplomatic. I asked, "But don't you worry about these guys ogling you?"

She laughed. "Not these guys. They're all gay."

I was surprised by that. "Really? All of them?" How did she know?

She nodded. "This is the gay section of the beach. The straight section is over there," she told me pointing to the south where the couples and old men were sitting.

I looked at Claire and realized something. I asked, "If this is the gay side, then you're a lesbian?"

She shook her head. "No, but as a single girl, I get harassed much less in this section. Besides, I love watching these guys play volleyball."

I let Claire turn her attention back to the game. I didn't want to ruin her day by coming on to her, especially if she wasn't open to something like that. Besides, my real concern, John, was lurking in the back of my mind.

I took out my sunscreen and began to apply it all over my body as I watched the game. When it came to my breasts I went ahead and took my top off. I left my bottoms on, though.

My head really wasn't in the game as I watched it. I was instead consumed with trying to figure out what to do about my feelings of jealousy.

Where had it all gone so wrong? Why was I so jealous when I found John getting that blowjob? Any other woman would, but I wasn't like any other woman. Would I have been that jealous if I had caught him with his sister? No, that would have been a turn-on. Would I have been that jealous if I had caught him with one of my friends back home? Maybe.

Whoa! That answer surprised me. I had never been jealous before but the image in my mind of walking in on one of our friends, like Dana, Raine, or Heather, blowing John made my stomach hurt a little.

Was that how John felt when he looked at me? If so, how many times had I hurt him? Why hadn't he left me if I had hurt him that much?

Still, even though the thought of walking in on him with a friend in Denver hurt a little, why did it hurt so damn much to see him with Kate? Was it just because she was my mother? Did I really feel threatened by her that much? Did I really think he would leave me for her?

The volleyball game was over and the men were dispersing in front of me, most heading for the ocean and a dip in the cool waters. Everyone was so happy and full of life, except me. What was happening to me?

I scolded myself for not seeing John's jealousy earlier. Surely fucking Raul and then telling John 'you snooze, you lose' had to be the worst thing I had ever done to another human being. I needed to apologize to him, but it had to be one that carried some weight. It had to carry assurances that it would never happen again.

In order to make assurances I had to uncover where these new feelings were coming from. I had always thought that my lack of such negative emotions stemmed from a confidence in my own worth and a respect for the worth of others. Surely, if you are self-assured and respect your boyfriend as a separate individual with the freedom to make his own choices, then you can't be jealous of anything or anyone no matter what anyone else says or does. Right?

Had I lost that self-confidence? Or had I lost my respect for John as a free person to make his own way in this world? Did I want to own him and possess him like some trinket or, worse, slave?

The classic explanation would have been 'love', but I dismissed that out of hand. I loved John. I had loved him for a long time. Sex and love were not the same. Sex was physical and love was emotional. I had always thought that it was the shallow and less-sophisticated people that equated one with the other. Now, suddenly, I wasn't so sure.

I awoke to the sound of another volleyball game starting up. I was disoriented for a moment before realizing that I had simply laid back and fallen asleep. I squinted up into the sky. The sun was almost directly overhead.

I slowly stretched and sat up.

Claire was still sitting on her towel beside me, though she was completely naked and her hair was damp. She said, "Robin, would you like a sandwich?"

I was hungry. "How long was I asleep?" I asked drowsily.

"A few hours," she replied. "I tried to wake you up but you were sleeping so soundly."

I looked down at my body to see if I was burned. Not yet, but I might be feeling it later. "I'm going to be so burnt," I groaned.

"I tried to wake you up a little earlier," Claire repeated, apparently feeling guilty that she hadn't succeeded.

I nodded and said, "I didn't sleep very well last night." I thought of lying in bed next to John. John! I gasped. He must be so worried about me.

I grabbed my purse and pulled it open.

Falling asleep like that had really put things into focus for me. My mind had never been clearer. I needed to talk to John. I had to explain everything to him.

Claire watched with concern as I pulled out my phone. It had five notifications, specifically, two text messages, and three voicemails, all but one from John. What must he be thinking?

I read the text messages from John. The first one read, *Please call me.* The second one read, *I'm sorry. I love you. Please call me.* That made me smile, but I also saw that the timestamp was nearly three hours prior.

I pulled up the voicemails and listened. In the first message, left three and a half hours ago, John said, "Hi, Robin. It's John."

My heart leapt when I heard his voice. I had been so stupid and all I wanted to do was be with him. I needed to make things right.

The message continued, "Listen, I just read the text message you sent to Kate's phone."

Message? I didn't text Kate.

John said, "I can't believe that you said you are done with me and for her to send me back to Denver. I mean, I saw the look on your face when I told you I had been jealous in the past, so I know how mad you were, but it's not as bad as it sounds. Please call me back, babe.

"It can't end like this. All I'm asking for is a chance to explain. Please, Babe, your mom has me packing my stuff. She's got Raul by her side and I know if I don't go ahead and pack up she'll sick him on me. He's so big. I can't believe you fucked him. It must have hurt.

"Anyway, she's on the phone right now getting a flight lined up for me to head home. I can't afford the hotel prices around here but I don't want to go, Babe. So, look, I know from the expression on your face and reading your text on Kate's phone that you probably never want to hear from me again. But I just want the chance to talk to you. That's all. Please call me," he concluded. His voice was so despondent at the end.

I began to cry again. Kate had faked a text message to get John to leave. I instantly knew that she was doing what she thought was best for me. She didn't trust men and she saw how upset I was. She must have misread me and thought I was upset over John's admission when, in reality, I had been upset at myself. I shouldn't have run off like that.

Claire moved closer to me and put her hand on my shin. She was concerned about me. I appreciated the compassion, even from someone I had just met.

The next voicemail had been left an hour prior, while I slept. It was from Kate. She said, "Hey, Robin, it's Kate. Listen, I took care of your little problem for you, like I always do. So, you can come on back home any time you want. Please call me back."

I didn't like the sound of that. If she took care of my problem, she had to mean John. Thinking back on how she took care of things for me in the past, I knew things may have gone a little far. If only I had taken that first call from John, I scolded myself.

The last voicemail had been left only thirty minutes prior. I listened intently, despite dreading what I might hear and knowing that Kate was very efficient at getting rid of unwanted men.

John's voice was very subdued. He said, "Hi Robin. It's me, John. I wish you would call me back. Kate paid for a taxi to take me to the airport and for a one-way ticket back to Denver. Raul made sure I got in the taxi and rode with me to the airport. I just passed through security, leaving Raul behind, and am sitting at a little restaurant waiting for my flight. I left our tickets with your stuff. Maybe you can get some of your money back on mine.

"I paid the cab driver extra to drive around town looking for you but there are so many people and the town is so big that I couldn't find you. Besides, after a few minutes Raul realized what was happening and had the cabbie continue to the airport. So here I sit.

"Look, Robin, I love you and I really hope that you find what you're looking for. Anyway, I'll pack up your stuff when I get home so you don't have to worry about that. I just wish I could talk to you one last time.

"Oh, that's my flight. Well, I'd better go. I'll have to turn my phone off on the plane but I'll turn it right back on when I get to Denver in case you call me. Bye Babe."

"What? No!" I cried. "How could this be happening?"

"What's wrong?" Claire asked.

"My mother convinced my boyfriend that I didn't want to see him anymore and sent him back to Denver," I said.

"Why?" Claire asked.

"Oh, she thinks he's too jealous and possessive, but she's wrong. I'm too jealous. He didn't do anything wrong and now, thanks to my mother, and my stupidity, he's gone."

"Sweetie, it'll be okay," Claire offered.

I burst out sobbing and said, "I want John."

Claire scooted closer, sitting beside me, and put her arms around me. She comforted me as I cried. Her warm bare breasts pressed against my own but all I could think about was John.

I cried there for several minutes, just feeling so lost and alone despite Claire and the naked people around me. How had my life fallen apart so quickly?

A man walked up to us. I could just make out his shoes through my tears as I rested my chin on Claire's firm shoulder. Was he a cop? Had I done something wrong by hugging Claire? He wore tennis shoes and jeans, which were totally overdressed for the beach and not police issue either. Tentatively he said, "I hate to interrupt, and I know you don't want to see me anymore, but-"

It was John!

I looked up at him, my face wet with tears, and squealed with joy. Now, I don't squeal. The last time I made any sort of sound like that was when I was twelve. I didn't know how he had found me or why he wasn't on that plane. I didn't care. Nothing mattered except that he was there.

I pulled away from Claire, and cutting John off in mid-sentence, I leapt to my feet, crossed the three yards between us and threw myself into his arms.

I'm shorter and smaller than John but he was unprepared for me and I pushed him down into the sand onto his back. Thankfully, the sand was soft.

John wrapped his arms around me and held me close as we lay there in the sand. He was fully-clothed, in a white tee-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes, but I didn't care. I knew there would be sand everywhere but I didn't give a shit in that moment. "I thought-" he began to say.​