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By (user no longer on site) OP 31 weeks ago
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Stephanie woke with a start, the room dim and quiet, the soft hum of the air conditioning the only sound. Her body was twisted awkwardly across the bed, one leg dangling off the edge, her jeans still tangled around her ankles. The sheets were crumpled beneath her, and her T-shirt clung to her skin, damp, with the residue of sleep and sweat.
She blinked, disoriented, the memory of the afternoon rushing back in fragments—the infinity pool, the girl in the denim shorts and white bikini, the ache of her pussy, that had built inside her until she could take it no longer. Her body still felt heavy, her limbs slow to respond as she sat up and rubbed her eyes.
The sun had dipped low now, casting golden light across the floor. She peeled off her clothes, padding to the bathroom for a shower. The water was cool, refreshing, rinsing away the sweat and the lingering tension. She stood under the spray longer than necessary, letting it run over her breasts.
Wrapped in a towel, she returned to her suitcase and began unpacking. The contents were underwhelming, maxi dresses in muted tones, cardigans for cooler evenings, and sandals that had seen better days. She hadn’t packed for a glamorous holiday. She’d packed for comfort. For invisibility.
She held up a beige knit and frowned. “No,” she muttered, tossing it aside.
Eventually, Stephanie settled on a navy maxi dress with a low back and a subtle slit. It was the least frumpy of the lot, and tonight, she needed to feel like someone who hadn’t been left devastated by heartbreak. She added a touch of mascara, a swipe of gloss, and stepped into her sandals.
The cocktail bar was lively now, the restaurant buzzing with conversation and clinking glasses. Stephanie took a seat at the bar, ordering a glass of white wine. The barman greeted her with a warm smile and a wink, leaning in a little too close as he poured.
“Holiday escape?” he asked, eyes lingering.
“Something like that,” she replied, polite but showing no interest.
He chatted, complimenting her dress, her accent, her smile. She smiled back, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She wasn’t here for flirtation. Not from someone who was only doing it for tips, or a notch on his headboard.
An older gentleman at the far end of the bar caught her eye. He raised his glass and made his way over, his cologne overpowering while his eyes undressed her.
“You look like you could use some company,” he slurred.
Stephanie gave a tight smile. “I’m fine, thank you.”
He nodded, unfazed. “If you change your mind.”
She turned back to her wine, her stomach sinking. Was this her life now? Barmen with cheesy lines and old men with propositions?
And then, she saw her.
The girl from the pool.
She appeared at the far end of the bar, her white bikini now hidden beneath a loose sundress, her hair damp and tangled. Her eyes were red, her expression raw. She slid onto a stool, two seats away, and stared at the counter, shoulders hunched.
Stephanie froze.
The girl didn’t order anything. She just sat there, silent, tears slipping quietly down her cheeks.
Stephanie leant forward. “Are you ok” she smiled. “Looks like you could do with a friend”. |
