Girl Gone Mild

"Thirty minutes! Fifteen of that I spent trying to find you guys."

"Trying to find? That's easy. Just look for the best ass on the beach." Carmen smacked her own naked behind.

Just then, four guys approached and hovered in a semi-circle. "Sup," said a black guy in a muscle shirt.

"Sup," Carmen responded. She sat up, revealing her glorious nudity for all to see, then put her swimsuit on as though it were part of a routine, like grabbing the car keys on the way out the door.

The four girls returned to the bar area with the four boys in tow. Kari and Brenda left their mack-buddies behind, since both were inebriated and not willing to take no for an answer. Brenda was disappointed, having been prepared to say "yes" much sooner than Kari, but the new boys made a good first impression and soon Brenda was her good old slutty self once more.

Dusk arrived, and with it a Hawaiian buffet at poolside. The eight new companions ate beef ribs with their hands and sipped cheap white wine as a soft rock combo played 60's beach music by the waterfall. Each girl had selected a companion from the quartet of boys and was sitting close to them. All except Robin.

The conversation mostly revolved around two subjects, college course work and sexual history, the former being a pretense for beginning the discussion and the latter the discussion's true intent. Carmen and Brenda, tipsy after a long afternoon of complimentary beer, revealed much about their inclinations at Boston College. For one thing, Kari had been right – they spent far more time in each other's beds than Robin gave them credit for, and they were more than open to the idea of further pursuing similar endeavors while on vacation, perhaps with these strapping lads right here. Carmen probed Kari for her level of willingness along said lines, and Robin was not shocked to hear Kari say, "I could fuck a girl or two tonight." Whether she would or not was beyond prediction, but Robin knew Kari wanted to fit in during dinner.

So did Robin, but these boys made her uncomfortable. Part of the problem was her continued discomfort with the bikini. Her friends sat in the beach chairs as they would a booth at a pizza parlor, with legs crossed and elbows on tables, completely oblivious to their cleavage, their side boobs revealed, their belly buttons (all three pierced). None of the girls had an inch of fat across their bodies, but still, didn't they THINK about it? Robin couldn't stop. The boy she had "picked" (been tossed at by Carmen) kept staring at her tits. This in itself didn't offend her, but it made it difficult for her to take seriously his attempts at conversation. "What's your major?" he asked, staring at her tits. "I've got four brothers and one sister," he said, staring at her tits.

I bet Brian would stare, too, Robin thought. After all, he was only human, and she did look fucking hot. For that matter, what was Brian doing here, if it wasn't to hook up with strange women? All in all, Brian deserved to get laid more than this sad sack. Saving a girl's life ought to be worth some free poon. Even so, Robin couldn't think of Brian that way. He had displayed gallantry, propriety, attention to prioritization. And he was cute.

Then he appeared. There, behind the band, with his two buddies. All three wore collared shirts and sneakers, and all three held plastic cups with beer.

Apparently they weren't guests at the resort, because a bouncer for the facility approached them, engaged in a brief conversation, then began to escort them back the way they came.

"Excuse me," Robin said to her escort, interrupting him mid-sentence.

"Where you going?" Kari asked.

"I'll be right back," replied Robin, and that was the last her friends saw of her until the next day.

She fast-walked around the pool and tapped the bouncer on the shoulder. "They're with me," she said. The bouncer, obviously happy for any opportunity to return to his food plate, shrugged and walked away.

"Thanks," Brian said.

Before Robin could reply, one of Brian's friends said, "Hey baby," and stroked her shoulder. Robin narrowed her eyes at the boy, and apparently, he wasn't too drunk to take the hint. "Oh-kay," he said, then walked past her toward the food buffet.

The second boy decided it was his turn. "We really appreciate it," he said, taking a step forward. Robin realized that neither friend knew who she was, and they both were under the impression she'd helped them into the pool party because she wanted something from them.

Gratefully, Brian stepped in. "It's not what you think," he said to his friend. "Go get something to eat, I'll be right there."

The guy flashed Robin a retarded smile and left. Then it was just Brian and Robin. She was about to remind him where he knew her from when he said, "I hope you weren't hurt too bad earlier."

"No, I'm fine. My elbow's sore."

"Lemme look," Brian said, holding out his hand. He didn't grab at her arm, but instead waited for her to comply. She presented the elbow, and he touched her. Goosebumps sprang up across her entire body, literally, like in romance novels. As he examined her bruise, she nervously wondered if her armpit was shaved enough. What started as a touch of anxiety over being stared at had blossomed into the stark reality of this moment.

And yet, Brian didn't really seem to be ogling her body. He was looking at the elbow, testing the edges, then glancing back at Robin's eyes. Not her tits, her eyes. She swallowed.

"I'm Brian," said the boy.

"I know. They said your name back at the bench."

"Good to meet you," he said, offering his hand.

Robin shook it. "I'm Robin."

"Good to meet you, Robin."

"You hungry? I already have a plate..." Robin remembered where her plate was: sitting next to a handsome idiot whose name she didn't remember. She quickly decided to abandon that plate for a new one.

"Actually, we ate at another pool party before we got here."

"Did you crash that one, too?"

Brian laughed. "Yeah, kinda. Listen, I'm interested in joining you if you want to go get your plate, or I can come with."

Robin bit her lip. "Um... I guess I'm pretty much done eating, too."

"Yeah? So now what?"

A new plan formed in Robin's mind and held on tenaciously. What could it hurt to take a walk with Brian, away from here, just for a little while? Surely Brian's intentions were honorable, but if not, so what? She'd meant it earlier when she decided he'd earned a buddy fuck. Or maybe that was just her excuse for wanting to get closer to him. Had they met at college, she would have simply given him her phone number and walked away. But, as had been endlessly pointed out to her, the rules were different here.

"I'd like to take a walk on the beach," she said. "Wanna join me?"

The most adorable look flashed across Brian's face, excitement mixed with bewilderment, but when he spoke, the words were articulate and charming. "I'd be delighted."

No fires were allowed on the beach. Somehow Robin had imagined groups of friends sitting around bonfires, singing songs and shit, lovers embracing. What she saw instead was fishing piers, tiny boat docks and the vast night sky illuminated by dusk's last light and a thousand street lamps from the thoroughfare beyond the hotels, though at the moment the strip wasn't thoroughfaring any traffic, that's for sure. There were less people on the beach than a few hours previous, but they still numbered in the low hundreds. Boomboxes played top 40 while couples and crowds laughed, squealed and argued their way through case after case of silly juice.

As night fell, bringing significantly cooler weather with it, Robin regretted not bringing a covering of some kind. She rubbed her arms as she walked by Brian's side.

She said, "I see your friends aren't bothered with a second dinner."

"They can afford to stuff themselves, I guess," Brian answered. "They aren't in training."

"Training? For what?"

"Football. Texas State. Walk-on sophomore. I was varsity in high school, but... you know."

"Why no scholarship? If you don't mind me asking."

Brian smiled. "Grades were more important. Oh well." He shrugged.

That's more like it, Robin thought. The mention of football made her cringe – one date with a college football player had been way more than enough for her and her mace spray, thank you very much – but he hadn't struck her as a dumb jock. Then he really knocked her socks off, as he unbuttoned his short-sleeve shirt and handed it to her. "Take it. You look cold."

Robin pushed her fingers through her hair, a flirtatious move that had brought favorable results in the past. "It's not so bad."

"Yeah, but I'm a boy and you're a girl. I'm supposed to be tough."

"Oh-ho, so that's how it is."

"Naw, not really. You want it or not?"

Robin plucked the garment from Brian's fingers, slipped into it and buttoned it up. Not only did it help block some of the cool breezes, but she also felt less exposed. Her gratitude for this man knew no bounds, and it was only their fifth or sixth minute together. And for the record, his skin was toned and his muscles well-defined.

"How you like Florida?" Robin asked.

"It's okay. Different than I thought it would be."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I dunno."

"No, go on."

Brian laughed. "This is strange. I didn't think I'd be having a real human conversation with anyone down here."

"No? Why not?"

"You know why not. Have you seen these people? They're out of control."

Robin nodded and laughed, despite herself. "Yeah, this isn't really my crowd."

Brian stroked his chin. "I thought not."

"You thought not, huh?"

"Look, I call it like I see it."

"Well, you see right." There was more to say, but she lost her train of thought. These words defined the growing connection she felt with the boy, and it made her heart beat fast. She liked Brian right away.

He continued. "My boys back there, Todd and Philip, they're good guys, but kinda assholes, too."

"Oh no. I do hate assholes."

"Seriously, they're good guys. But they just wanna get laid."

"You don't wanna get laid?"

A serious look crossed Brian's face. "That's not me. I mean, I had a one-night stand once. In high school. Actually, she kind of attacked me. I called her the next day, and she sounded different. I didn't understand. Guess I still don't."

Robin bit the tips of her fingers. "My friends are the same way. We all talked about coming down here and getting laid. I... listen, can I confess something to you?"

Brian laughed, surprised. "Sure."

Robin laughed as well. "I mean, I'm feeling really open at the moment."

"I know what you mean."

"Plus, it's like, I'll probably never see you again after tonight, so who gives a fuck if I just tell you what's on my mind."

"Who gives a fuck."

"But also... it's... I mean you're so..."

"I know. I know exactly. This is really nice. It's awesome. I'm so glad I found you."

The words shocked Robin. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I mean, everyone's here to get hooked up, and it's like, you're so cool and intelligent. I wasn't expecting that. To find, you know, a friend."

Robin melted. "Yeah."

"So what's your confession?"

"Not a confession, just something about my past, and it made me think of something."

"I'm listening."

"But you can't judge me."

"Of course not."

"I mean, you say, 'Of course not,' but you could secretly be thinking, 'Wow, what a slut.'"

Brian scratched his head. "Would it make you feel better if I went first?"

"Okay," Robin said, and she meant it.

"Well, I kinda already did. I told you I had a one-night stand."

"I did that too. Twice."

"Same guy?"

"Nope."

"Alrighty then. I was with two girls at once."

"I've been with three."

"Ha. Please." Brian looked sidelong. "You serious?"

Robin giggled hard. "Maybe. Why, haven't you ever been with another guy?"

"No way. Uh-uh."

"Not even a circle jerk?"

In the dark Robin couldn't see if Brian's face turned red, but she guessed it did. "Well... yeah. Once."

"Just once?"

"Four times. At football camp."

An involuntary jolt shot through Robin's pussy. "I see."

Brian laughed. "But no touching."

"Certainly not."

"Okay, your turn."

Robin shrugged. She picked up something shiny in the sand. It was a shard of dark beer bottle glass. She tossed it into the crashing waves, then regretted it. Someone else would get cut now. "Oh, you know, it's just, I've been with more than a few guys. Seven, to be precise."

"That's not too bad."

"Really?"

"I've been with six girls."

"Oh great."

"Is that all?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"You said it made you think of something?"

Robin sighed. "We were just talking about friends and how they talked us into coming here and messed with our expectations and told us what to look forward to, and I guess I was thinking, that's probably the same reason for every boy I ever went to bed with. I felt like it was expected of me. Everyone in school was either going steady with someone or they were having fun with somebody really cute, you know, and popular."

"No way you could ever date someone who wasn't popular."

"I know! It's like, there's a kid who wears black all the time, and his hair is long, but he's the captain of the debate team, and at least his clothes are clean, and he really makes me laugh, but I'm a cheerleader and he's a goth so it's totally off-limits."

"You're a cheerleader?"

"No, I played tennis in high school. But I was friends with the cheerleaders. Except I was also an honor student. If I went to a nerd party, I couldn't tell my cool friends about it, and if I went to a cool party, I couldn't invite my smart friends."

"Vicious. We were all shark bait in high school. Even the popular kids were lonely."

"What do you mean 'were'?"

"Seriously. You still play?"

"Tennis? Not really."

"But you work out."

Robin blushed hard. She changed the subject. "Were you popular or lonely, or both?"

"Both. My parents are rich, so one group kissed my ass and wanted to borrow my car, and the rest hated my fucking guts. If I ever tried to be nice to someone who wasn't cool, they thought I was condescending. So, sometimes I was like, 'Hey, fuck you,' but mostly I just took it, like I deserved it or something. And yeah, I know what you mean about sex." Brian was silent for a moment, collecting some thought. "You have any regrets?"

"About?"

"Sex."

"You mean, do I regret being a slut?"

"Don't say that," Brian said, and his tone of voice changed. He wasn't asking, he was telling. He even stopped walking and forced Robin to stop as well.

"I didn't mean it."

"You're not a slut, Robin. I won't hear that."

"You're just being sweet."

"No," he said, and they started walking again. "I've known sluts. Maybe I've even been one. But people change. At the very least, you less of a slut than any girl in the city tonight, and I feel very lucky to be here with you."

Now it was Robin's turn to blush. "Thank you very much, Brian."

"Besides, it's 2006. My parents thought they were players back in the 60's, but back then, it's like, you slept with two guys in the same year and you were getting back at your parents and shit. Now, it's just a way to keep from being bored. If nothing's on TV, you have sex instead."

"You sound angry."

"Not really. We've all been having sex, with no one saying it's wrong, and I wonder if there's another way. Like falling in love first. Fuck, that's lame."

"So you do regret it."

"What I meant was, it wasn't, do you regret all the partners because now you're not as good a person. I don't believe that's true. Everyone has sex, everybody all the time. But sometimes, you know, you think maybe you could have told your friends to fuck off and it could have been just you and your right hand, waiting for a really nice person to come along and not be fake, and tell you you're special."

"Holy shit."

"What?"

"I have NEVER heard a boy talk like this."

"Like what?"

"Like Oprah." Robin grinned but didn't laugh.

"What's wrong with Oprah?"

"Come on!"

Brian laughed again. "What?"

"You don't really talk like that, do you? Like, with your friends and all?"

"Like what?"

"You're just trying to get into my pants."

"Probably. But just for that, I'm not going near your pants."

"Awww! Poor baby."

"No. You can play with yourself tonight."

"Fine! I will!" Robin and Brian were both laughing at this point. Robin put her hand on Brian's chest and pushed him away, but the overture had been obvious; she wanted to touch him. "You masturbate a lot?" she asked, feeling bold.

"What's it to ya?"

"Just making conversation."

"Don't you?"

Whatever had been tensing up inside her was escalating. "Doesn't everyone?"

"Define 'a lot.'"

"I dunno. YOU define it."

"Once a day?"

"That's not a lot."

"Not for me, it's not."

Robin smiled. "Me either."

"I take it you aren't dating anyone."

"Not at the moment. How about you?"

"Single as charged."

"You're a masturbator."

Brian chuckled. "So what? It beats the alternative."

"You said 'beats.'"

They both laughed hard. "Grow up," Brian laughed.

"The alternative being?"

"Giving your body to someone who doesn't love you."

And there it was. All of a sudden Robin's past lovers flipped through her brain, each one a failure in some way. Some of them gave her pleasure, some took more than they gave, but each was ultimately a big letdown, for the sole reason that each of them was somewhere at the moment other than by her side. Brian's point was spot-on. For each night of passion sweating in the back of some moron's truck bed or bedroom floor, couldn't she just have spent the night at home with a dildo shoved up her cunt and saved herself the emotional heartache that was sure to follow? With Chaz Emberman, she hadn't cried at all when he dumped her, she just laughed and said, "It's about time, pencil dick." But being rejected is crushing. It's something to avoid.

Robin realized she'd been silent for some time. "You're a really nice guy," she said at last.

Brian shrugged. "Maybe."

"You mean you're not?"

"I might just be trying to get into your pants."

"Is that why you saved my life this afternoon? So you could sleep with me?"

"Oh, come on now. Save your life."

Robin stepped in front of Brian and stopped his stroll. She put his hands in hers and looked into his eyes. They could see each other clearly in the light of the nearby hotels. "Thank you," she said.

"It was nothing."

"It wasn't nothing. There were drunk jerks everywhere, and none of them lifted a finger to help me. I could have been seriously hurt, or worse. You were really awesome. I appreciate it."

Brian looked at their hands touching. "You're welcome."

"I think you're a really nice guy."

"You're nice, too, Robin."

Robin let go. She stepped down to the water line. The water felt very cold against her bare feet, but she liked that. Her California experience had turned her into an expert beach bum, excluding the part about flaunting her bikini-clad body for thousands of drunk idiots. The West Coast beaches were often family affairs, where a girl could slip into a one piece Speedo, drag a chair and a book to the water's edge and get a relaxing tan. Sometimes boys would hit on her, but if they weren't obnoxious that wasn't always a bad thing. "What time do you think it is?" she asked Brian.

He wore a watch. "Close to eight."

"I'm hungry."

"You said you weren't."

"I lied."

"Oh no. You're a liar."

"When I saw you at the pool, I was sitting with this guy. My plate was next to him, and I didn't want to go back."