I can hardly believe that we made love like we did last summer. Can you? I was still acting the fool, playing as if I was a nervous wreck, fumbling with my buttons and zipper and breathing haphazardly, in order to endear myself. The truth is, though, my lie isn’t much of a lie…I was trying my best to keep all my…enthusiasm…from bursting out the whole weekend.
You were still calm, cool, collected. You still knew exactly what to do, what to say. You pursed your lips and squirmed slightly against the bed, heaving your breasts and rolling your eyes back, making the motions of making love, inviting your partner to join in the fun.
I still made that face. You still screamed to the heavens, begging for more. I heard it. My God, I heard it. I tried to keep time with your cries, closed my eyes and let your wild voice take me to where my…enthusiasm…could break free and leave my body weak and incapacitated. Together, we all cried out, and together, we collapsed.
We made love again and again and again, just like we always did. Outside, the sound of the ocean wrapped us in a feeling of sweet isolation. Soft sunlight filtered through the curtains in the morning, the rising sun welcoming us personally to a new day to love. Who needs coupons on scuba lessons or parasailing when you have your arms wrapped around a woman who adores you, when you have a man who worships you? Going to the beach for vacation…it really isn’t even necessary. But it does give you the feeling of freedom. It does give you a quiet peace that is so conducive to quiet talk under the sheets, to sharing a coffee cup and laughing at no particular thing.
Just like last summer. And the summer before that. And the summer before that. I always enjoyed the beach in February, what can I say? No one to bother you, no one to notice you, the entire ocean is your personal swimming pool. You can sit on the sand, close to the surf, and watch dolphins leap in the air al l day if you wanted to. You could make love, right there on the beach if you had half a mind to. Of course, we didn’t do that, I know, but it’s been done before. If we had ever gotten out of bed, we might have been tempted by the shady enclave of the dunes, but I suppose civilized people like us prefer the silk of sheets to the clutch of sand. Still, would you have like that?
But I am sorry. To tell you the truth, you were the last person I expect to see. I should have known better; you loved the resort so much, and you always get the second week of February off. Just so you know, after that first bit of awkwardness, Carla and I had a great time, and from what I hear, you and Chuck weren’t doing too bad yourself. But I also think that you may have been yelling that loudly on purpose. Just tell me this, Mary: did you rent that room next to mine on purpose? I think you might have, but if you were trying to make me feel badly for breaking up with you, for seeing you with another man, you failed quite miserably. In fact, I was a little aroused by the prospect of being so close to you and another woman at the same time, and the sense of competition that it created.
Also, sorry about knowing all the details of your and Chuck’s vacation. You know how men talk when they’re together. Sex, sex, sex. I swear, I don’t know how you women put up with us.