Guest Services

It's all nonsense. I don't want these men, and even if I did, I would never do anything like that. I know all too well how it feels to have someone shove their way into your marriage and then gradually inch you right out of it. It is the last thing I would ever do to someone else.

I just want to know if I could.

I want to know if it's even possible to make someone want me anymore. Because I have only slept with one man in the last twenty years and, deep down, some part of me thinks that I will never have sex again.

There is no one in particular that I actually want, but I feel the low, steady hum of my sex drive underscoring everything I do. It's infuriating. It persists through my sadness and through my anger. I want to make love to someone. I want to fuck someone. I want to feel excited again. And it is maddening that I might be at the age where my sex drive is strongest at the same moment that the only viable partner I had has been torn out of my life.

"Did you have a good sleep last night, Ma'am?"

I start. It's him. He approached from behind and I didn't see him coming. Oh well. I might as well get this over with.

"Hi. Yeah, sorry about that. I dropped that blanket off in a laundry basket, so it should be all good."

"Sorry about what?"

This takes me aback. He's right. What am I sorry about? I didn't do anything wrong.

"Sorry for staying out here so long, I guess. And that you felt you had to bring me that blanket."

He chuckles. "I hate to tell you this, but you are not the first person to fall asleep on the beach. Although you may be the first person to be smart enough to do it in the shade. I'm glad you're able to relax here. This is a great place to get away from stress." His smile is bright and he seems to be inviting more conversation.

I want to be won over, but I just can't break through my bad mood. "Yeah, well, I don't need you checking on me. I'm just fine on my own."

He smiles. "Sorry, ma'am. Making sure that the guests are comfortable is part of my job. And, if you don't mind my saying, Loon Lake might not have been the best choice if you were looking for solitude."

I glare at him. "Tell me about it."

Tyler is unperturbed. "Point taken. Before I leave you alone then, can I bring you a drink of some kind?"

I look at him and take in his blue eyes, his warm smile, his broad shoulders. He's even more handsome than I remember, and strong. He's not like the pretty boy husbands on the beach who spend hours in the gym honing each tiny muscle and meticulously waxing every hair off of their body, but the kind of strength that just comes from enjoying a variety of activities and moving happily through life.

But still. None of that matters if he is patronizing me. And I'm sure he is. Besides, I have already decided that I am spending this week alone, so handsome doesn't matter one bit. "Guest services, huh? So what, you're a waiter?"

"Nope. I'm not a waiter. We don't have wait service on the beach. Would you like me to bring you a drink of some kind?"

He's trying to win me over. But I won't give him the satisfaction of a smile. I came here to be bitter and angry, thank you. If he's not a waiter, I decide, I'll call his bluff.

"Fine. Yes. You can bring me a drink."

"Great," he says, and turns away from me.

"Wait! Don't you want to know what drink I want?" I call after him.

He turns, walking backwards for a few steps, and winks at me. "Nope," he calls back. "I'm good." He turns again and heads off towards the snack shack.

And despite myself, I feel a flush creep up my neck. He is friendly and he is handsome and he winked at me.

It's his job, I tell myself. Guest Services. He must flirt with all of the women here. It's all about getting tips. I'm not going to fall for that.

Still, I sit up and pull my t-shirt off. It's not for him, I tell myself. I was much too hot before. I tuck my hair back up into my baseball cap and lie down again. He probably won't even notice.

Still, I know I look good in this bikini. I bought it for a cruise that James and I were going to take before the world fell into a global pandemic and my marriage fell to pieces. He never even saw it on me. It's pale pink, a colour that normally I would loathe, but it makes my skin look creamy and smooth. The halter top that ties behind my neck gives me the security of full coverage while, at the same time, showing a tantalizing amount of cleavage.

After about ten minutes, Tyler returns. He stops a few feet away and, just for a second, I can see his eyes widen as they flick up and down my body. He refocuses on my face and finishes his walk up to my chair.

"Your drink, ma'am," he says.

I take the fruity concoction from him, and sniff it, eyeing him suspiciously.

He laughs. "I promise you, it's safe. And delicious. And nutritious!"

"Uh huh." I deliver this skeptically, but I can't keep a little smile from creeping onto my face.

"Ma'am, if you don't absolutely love that drink, I promise you I will immediately fall on my sword and resign."

I give up and let out a laugh. "Well, those are some high stakes, Tyler," I say, lifting the drink to my lips. It's delicious. Fruity, crisp, bubbly, and with a substantial hit of alcohol.

So? What do you say? Do I get to keep my job?"

I nod sagely. "Yes, you do. For today, at least."

He gives an elaborate bow. "Thank you, ma'am. I appreciate your mercy and your excellent taste."

I smile. "Can we do away with the ma'am? It makes me feel like an old lady. I'm Julie."

"Nice to meet you, Julie," he reaches down and shakes my hand. "And now I shall leave you in peace. Enjoy your afternoon."

I suddenly feel off balance. Now I don't want him to go. But what did I think, that he was going to stand here and talk to me all day? He has a job to do. Quickly, I arrange my face into a smile.

"You too. And thanks for the drink. It really is delicious. You can bill it to Cabin 8."

He winks again. "Nope. That one's on the house." And he's gone.

It's amazing what someone flirting with you can do for your spirits. I know that he was just being nice, just doing his job, but now I must admit that I am happy to be here on this beach.

I even go into the lake. Not once, but twice. The cool water feels wonderful against my skin. I can't help but think about Tyler's eyes on my body. Under the dark lake water, I allow my hands to brush against my stomach, my thighs, my breasts. It's as if nerve endings that had been severed had suddenly sprung back to life under his gaze.

I go back to my cabin, make myself a quick dinner, then rush back to plop myself on the lounger again. I'm not even trying to fool myself anymore. I want to see him again, and this is the only place where I know he might be tonight. I want to flirt and laugh and have someone pay attention to me. Maybe I want more. I let my brain spiral off into fantasies, and then reel it back in trying to shield myself from future disappointments. I apply and reapply sunscreen so that I don't cook myself to a crisp as I wait for him.

It's pathetic. I'm like a teenager with a movie-star crush.

As the sun begins to slip below the horizon, the last of the families begins to gather up their things and pack them away. I am prepared to wait it out, I brought books, a bottle of water and a snack. I've pulled on a plaid button down shirt to compensate for the cooling air, but left it open in case Tyler comes back and sees me. If anyone asks why I'm still on the beach after dark, I'll say that I'm out to look at the stars. No one will dare question the witch of cabin 8.

And then I see him. He's at the far end of the beach, stacking lounge chairs. I watch him move, strong and confident. As the stack of chairs grows, he has to lift each lounger higher into the air. His shirt lifts, and I see just a little extra flesh around his middle. I love that, I hate it when a man is all sharp corners and hard angles. I want to put my arms around his waist.

It takes an eternity for him to make his way down the beach towards me, but when he does, he doesn't seem at all surprised to see me.

"Hi Julie," he says, hoisting the last of the empty loungers onto a pile. "Did you have a good day?"

"I did, thanks," I say, smiling.

"Well, it must be a Loon Lake miracle!"

"Har, har," I say, smiling more widely.

"And I even saw you in the water a couple of times!"

A couple of times. I only went in twice. He must have been watching for me. A little thrill zings up my spine.

"I did," I say. "It was lovely."

"Mind if I sit?" he asks, gesturing at the end of my chair. I nod and pull my knees up, making room for him. He sits sideways, perpendicular to me.

"So, Tyler, do Loon Lake Guest Services representatives usually get the glamorous job of stacking chairs at the end of the night?"

He laughs. "No, not usually. Usually it's some teenager. But we've had a lot of trouble finding live-in staff during COVID, so we're all just kind of doing everything. This is actually my cousin's business," he continues. "I've been working here for the last six summers. It's a good gig."

"What do you do over the winter?"

"Ski Instructor. Total Canadian cliché. Just a couple hours north of here, so it's all pretty local."

"It sounds like a great life."

"It's fun. I'm probably getting a bit old for it, but I can't seem to give it up. Just a drifter, I guess," he smiles. "Now can I ask you some questions?"

"Wll, you can ASK," I say.

He laughs. "If you're on your own and you wanted to relax... why did you come here?

I sigh. "I was supposed to be here with my sister's family. Then her daughter got a bad ear infection and they had to stay home. I promised her I'd still come, so... here I am."

His eyes widen. "Wait. Do you mean Mike and Sandy's family?"

"Yes!" I exclaim. "You know them?"

"Well, you get to know the regulars, the folks who come up for the same week year after year. I should have clued in when you said you were in Cabin 8. I like Mike and Sandy. They're great."

"Yes, they are." I fall silent.

"But... you don't seem to be having a very good time here. When I first tried to talk to you, quills shot out of you like you were a porcupine."

I feel ashamed. Even if I had wanted to be left alone, there was no excuse for me being such a bitch to someone who was just trying to be nice. "I... recently went through a bad breakup. Sandy thought that me coming along with them would cheer me up. But now I'm alone, and... just seeing everyone here... it's just a lot of happy family togetherness to take in."

"I get that," he says. He has this way of holding my gaze thoughtfully, like he is trying to figure me out. I shift uncomfortably in the chair. It's quiet except for the gentle waves and the crickets in the grass. The silence becomes unbearable.

"Look, you don't have to stay here and talk to me," I say quickly, shifting again, trying to find room for my legs. "It's fine. I'm fine."

Tyler smiles. "I'll go if you want me to. But I'd like to stay. I like talking to you. Here, why don't you stretch out your legs? Just put them across mine?"

"It's fine. You don't have to do that."

"Julie. If you think stretching out will make you less comfortable, then stay like that. If you think it will make you more comfortable, then pull those quills in and give me those legs," he jokes.

After a second, I extend my legs over his. I can feel the wiry hairs of his thighs under my calves. His legs are warm and his quad muscles are toned. He rests his hands on my shins.

"Is that ok?" he asks.

"Yes, that's much better. Thank you," I say, gratefully.

He cocks his head. "Why are you so defensive every time someone tries to do something nice for you? I mean, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But it's okay to accept it when someone tries to make your day a little better."

"I don't know. I think when my husband left I forgot how to be myself." I had meant it to be a light quip, but suddenly my throat feels tight.

"I'm sorry," he says. "That's rough."

He doesn't try to give me advice or tell me to see all of my blessings. I'm so grateful.

"Anyway. I'm sorry for the way I behaved when we first talked."

Tyler laughs. "I didn't mind. I like a fiery woman. It kind of made me want to talk to you more."

And before I know what I'm saying, I blurt out "And I'm glad you came back. I was hoping you would." Dammit. I can't believe I said that. My face flushes, and I look away, down the beach.

Almost imperceptibly, his thumb begins to move on my shin.

"Truthfully?" he says. "I was hoping that you would be here when I got back."

I force my eyes to meet his. "You were?"

He nods. "Uh huh."

"Why?

He stops to consider for a second, and then says. "I'm not sure. I just didn't believe that you really wanted to be left alone." Now he starts to run the palm of his hand up and down my leg, cupping my calf. "And I just sort of felt that you were a person that I wanted to keep doing nice things for."

For a second, I'm so happy I can't speak. I'm too nervous to meet his eyes because I know where this is going to go, so I close my eyes and relax my head on the chair. "Mmmmmm. That feels nice."

He continues stroking, up to my knee, down to my ankle, and back again. "It sounds like you have been through a lot. We can stay here for as long as you want. I really like talking to you. But..."

I open my eyes. He is looking right into them.

"...what I'd really like to do is kiss you."

I can't bring myself to speak. I nod.

Tyler moves my right leg off of his thigh and puts it on the lounger behind him so that he is sitting between my legs. He shifts himself further up the chair, and angles his body to face me. My hot centre is suddenly just inches from his hip.

He leans in and kisses me softly. He backs away, looking into my eyes. My eyelids flutter closed, and he leans in again.

He's such a good kisser. His lips are soft and firm, and after each time he explores my mouth, he backs off to gauge my reaction. I can tell that he is matching his passion to mine. It's a delicate interplay; soft kisses, his tongue running across my upper lip, his teeth gently pulling on my lower lip. It's not until I wrap my arms around him, one hand on his shoulder, the other creeping up into his hair, that he moans into my mouth and deepens the kiss.

After a few breathless minutes, he slides his left arm around my back and pulls me up towards him. I wrap my arms around him more tightly and use my legs to pull my body closer to his. He pulls my baseball cap off, drops it to the sand, and pushes his right hand up into my hair. He gives it a gentle tug, and my head tilts back, exposing my throat to him. He drags his tongue down my jawline, kissing me down my neck, along my collarbone.

Just when I think I can't bear it anymore, he gently pushes me against the slanted back of the lounger and looks at me with a smile. I'm breathing heavily and trying to keep my hips still. He turns his body to face me properly, one leg bent and resting on the chair, and strokes my thighs.

"That is a very, very nice bathing suit. I have been thinking about that bathing suit all day long." He says, running his fingertip between my breasts and down my stomach.

"Really?" I say with a knowing smile, and fully open the plaid shirt covering it. "I'm glad you like it."

"Mmmmm. It is so, so sexy," he says, shifting his body so that he can kiss me again. He devours my mouth with his, and then he moves slowly back down my neck, and then down to the space on my chest between the triangles of fabric. I can't keep my hips still anymore, they are rising and falling, desperate for some kind of friction.

His fingers trail along the edge of the halter top, and then just barely hook underneath the fabric. He raises his head to meet my eyes again.

"May I?"

I scan the beach. No one else is there. And if someone does come, I can quickly close my shirt.

I meet his eyes, bite my lip and nod.

He gently lifts the triangle of fabric and pulls it to the side. The pressure of the ties push my breast up towards his mouth. Tyler lazily runs his tongue around my entire breast, and then continues in smaller circles, moving into the centre. By the time his tongue meets my hard nipple, I am whining. He's barely touching it, his tongue just glancing over the pebbled tip. I squeeze my arm against my side, trying to push my nipple further into his mouth.

Finally he closes his lips around it, still flicking the sensitive tip. I let out a groan of relief, arching my back, my hands clasping the back of his head. He sucks, licks, bites at it. When I open my eyes to watch him, his eyes are on my face, seeing what sensations drive me higher, what my body responds to.

"God, that feels so good," I half whisper, half groan.

"Mmmmmmm." he responds around my nipple, and he reaches over to lift my other breast out of the bikini. He starts to kiss his way across my chest, but stops in the middle, raises his head, and puts two fingers and his thumb into his mouth, wetting them. Then he moves them to the nipple he just left, circling, pulling, teasing, and sucks my other nipple into his mouth.

"Ohhhhh fuck." It just comes out of my mouth. I quickly glance down at him. Maybe he doesn't like dirty talk. But he smiles and moans against my breast, and flicks his tongue rapidly against my nipple. The sensations are so sweet and so intense that I wrap my legs around his back. My pussy is aching, I need to grind against him, but I still can't quite make contact with him.

Tyler lifts his head from my nipple, takes one breast in each hand, and pushes them together. Then he starts running his tongue from one nipple to the other, back and forth, back and forth. He's devouring me with his lips and his tongue and it feels so, so good. My hips are working towards him and I'm gasping and I think I might come. But just as the sensations are reaching their peak, he lifts his face away from me.

"Mmmmmm. Not yet. I want to feel you come, but I want to be licking your pussy when you do. Would you like that, baby? Would you like to come in my mouth?

Oh fuck. He does like dirty talk. I moan, loudly. "Oh, my God, yes. Please lick my pussy."

He quickly scans the beach again, and then moves his body down the lounger so that he can kiss my stomach. He runs his tongue along the edge of my bikini bottoms, and then sits up. He ghosts his fingers over my stomach, my hips, my thighs, then runs them gently down the crotch of my bathing suit. His eyes widen.

"Oh my God, baby. You're soaked right through." he pushes his fingers against me again, exploring my pussy through the bathing suit. All I can hear are my whimpers and the squelching sounds his fingers are making. When he lifts his hand again, I can see that it is glistening with my juices. "You're so fucking wet, Julie. Fuck, that's sexy."

"That's yours," I whisper, gyrating my hips. "Please. Make me come. I need it."

He groans and slides down again and kisses my pussy through the bathing suit. My clit is already so swollen that he finds it easily and teases his tongue against it.

"Mmmmmm, Your little clit is so hard right now. It's poking right through your bikini." He closes his lips around it and sucks gently. Then he licks it, flicking his tongue against the hard nub.

"Please Tyler," I beg him. "Please. Take it off. I can't take it."

He chuckles gently at my desperation, and slowly moves the crotch of my bathing suit to one side. "Is this what you want, sweetie?" he asks, kissing my bare lips, the tip of my clit, so softly that I can barely feel him. "Like this?"

"Yes. God, yes. More." I manage, before he pushes the tip of his tongue into my dripping hole. I cry out briefly, forgetting where I am, and then he slowly, slowly, drags his tongue up my slit until it slides over my sensitive clit.