"Maybe you'd like to sit near me?"

I looked around for a minute and was happily surprised to finally find the source of the voice. A young woman, early twenties or so, sat on her towel set up across the sidewalk from where I stood. Deep maroon eyes, thick but well kept eyebrows, a flattering flowery one-piece swimsuit that covered both her essentials and the flat stomach in between.

"Is this spot not taken?"

"It is, but I can make some room. You can come veeery close!" She winked at me plainly, making no effort to appear subtle.

I looked at the crowded beach, full of families, kids, and umbrellas, then back at her. She had this look in her eyes, like there was a spell at the edge of her mind, ready to charm the next person she found to her liking. Suddenly, sitting next to her seemed like the most important thing I would have to do in my life.

Hands at her sides, she waited. I set down my bag and removed my sandals before setting my towel beside her. The tiniest of smiles could be noticed at the right corner of her lips. She removed an invisible hair from it

“Can I ask your name?”

“Florence.” She turned her head and her dark brown hair cascaded over her shoulder, tickling her prominent collarbones. 

“I’m Chris.” 

I felt like the vibes didn’t call for a handshake and instead went in for a kiss on the cheek, which was warmly received. As my nose dipped past the curtain of her hair, I sneaked in a short breath. She smelled like freshly washed linen dried on the clothesline on a late spring afternoon. Weirdly precise, I know. But she really did. 

As I sat back and looked at her again, I noticed. I mean, I had seen without actually processing it with my brain, but it had just finished computing. I set it aside and stuffed it in a drawer at the back of my mind.

“What brings you out here today, Chris?” A lot of things made a lot more sense now. Like the way she kept her hands flat on the ground near her hips, sitting perfectly straight instead of slouching back. “Enjoying the view?”

I peaked down her swimsuit for a split second before meeting her eyes. Oops. Caught red-handed. “Very much.”

Her right eyebrow rose almost imperceptibly. She leaned forward to reach into her cooler bag, stretching the fabric around her rump as much as she could. She was doing it on purpose. “Would you accompany me?” She produced two cans of light beer and set them between us.

“Gladly.” I took one from her extended hand and we cheered, drinking without breaking our staredown. Then, I looked down at the flattering fit of her swimsuit, lingering on where it curved in between her thighs. “Delicious.”

She licked her lips and pressed them together to make a pop sound. “It really is.”

I drank again, almost feeling the air vibrating between us. I looked around and motioned at the cement tiles we were sitting on. “That’s a peculiar spot to set up for a day at the beach. Not a fan of sand?”

She smirked and thought about it. “Less people here. Easier for me.” I fought hard not to side eye her wheelchair to my right.

“I think you could use some help.” 

I feared this would insult her, but I had to risk it anyway. To show her I wasn’t afraid of offering it, yet still respected her. She didn’t seem to mind at all. She nodded and drank. So did I.

I scooted a little closer and turned towards the sea, now admiring her left profile. She adjusted her position as well and I stole yet another look at her ass. Enjoying the view indeed.

I removed my shirt to cool off, sweat having started to drip down my back. I wasn't ashamed of my body, but I wasn't a fantastic looking guy, either.  A little overweight, but good muscle mass. Not far off from a dad bod, some would say. 

I spoke while looking straight ahead.

“Would you accompany me, Florence?”

Her breath trembled for half a second, as if something inside of her had finally gotten out. Was she anticipating the rest of our little conversation? Whatever it was, I had managed to rob her of it. She smiled a little wider. 

“I would like that, yes.” 

Like warming up, she pushed herself off the ground and landed a few inches back, putting her wavy hair up in a messy bun. My eyes flashed to her thighs, but not for the reason she would think. The simple way in which they squashed and stretched as she lifted them or herself reminded me why I love the female form so much. I downed the rest of my beer and took her hand in mine as I stood up, looking down at her inquisitively. She raised her other hand towards me, a silent signal. I nodded. 

Kneeling down, I slid my hand around her waist and pulled her close as she wrapped her arms around my neck. The smell of fresh linen assaulted me again and I needed a moment to take it all in. She looked at me through a single stray lock of hair, her face now so close to mine. The three beauty marks scattered across her neck and upper chest gifted her with a whimsical asymmetry.

“Do you mind if I kiss you?” 

She spoke these words simply, without any ill intent. A question waiting to be answered in its most basic form. She wouldn't have asked for a glass of water any differently. She already knew the answer, though. It was but a formality.

There was nothing else to answer, really. “Why would I?” 

Since she held most of her weight by herself, I let go of one hand to caress her chin and chase away the lock of hair that kept us apart. Her legs and groin pressed against my waist. I could feel her through the thin fabric of her swimsuit. Hand behind her neck, I urged her gently towards me although she needed no motivation at all. Her lips were soft, warm. The taste of hops had lingered on her tongue. She ran a hand through my hair and I adjusted my grip on her back as her weight shifted in my arms.

Holding her on my hip almost like a baby, we continued nuzzling as I made our way into the water, stopping when I reached knee depth. I felt people's eyes on us but I didn't care. I was obsessed by her presence at my side.

“How's the water?” Florence asked with a jab of irony.

I remembered that I was carrying her and facepalmed. “Sorry, do you want me to set you down?” 

She paused, looking down and around. “No. Let's go deeper.” My arms were getting tired. She wasn't heavy at all for an adult, but still, they started to ache. She kissed my cheek and her warmth spread all over my body, soothing my pain. “Come.”

Rejuvenated, I marched on into deeper waters. As the seafloor lowered, the waves climbed higher and higher on my legs, splashing hers. She recoiled at first and with a sly smile on my face, I dunked her up to her navel in one go. Her serene mask slipped off at the touch of the cold sea and she let out a gasp, her grip tightening around my neck. 

We giggled and she smiled through her clattering teeth. I brought her closer and we embraced again, keeping my pace to bring us deeper and deeper still. As we reached shoulder depth, I stopped again. It was a nice spot. The intensity of the waves had calmed down, the sound of the beach was far away, and there was no one close to disturb us. I opened my arms and she distanced herself from me, letting her hips float to the surface like a buoy. She smirked and forced them underwater again, completely letting go of me. She paddled like a synchronized swimmer, hands at her sides, keeping her body relatively upright against the shifting water. Her wet skin shimmered like crystals in the sunlight.

“You're amazing.” I whispered, not even exaggerating. Her demeanor, her attitude, her looks, her condition.. “Can I kiss you?”

She swam forward, reprising her previous position, hands on my neck. “You can do a lot more than that.”

I felt her against me again, even with the water around us. Her heat. Her presence. Her lust. I let my hand wander down between her legs and let it rest against her swimsuit. 1-2-3-4-5-6-7… Her heart was beating fast. I followed the rim of her suit towards her back and onto her ass, where her cheek felt like a gift from the gods. Her leg brushed against my hand and jerked away immediately. I played dumb and didn’t say a thing.

Through the low cut of her clothes, I let my hand run all the way up her back until I reached the thin strap on her left shoulder, pushing it aside gently, loosening its grip on her chest. Her hand met mine and I froze. But instead of stopping me, she guided it down to uncover her breast, which happily bobbled out of its restraint. I cupped it with my hand and squeezed it gently, only to be encouraged again, my fingertips forced towards her nipple. She threw back her head as I kissed her collarbone and her thighs shifted against me in ways she hadn't accounted for. I felt her stiffen, her breath interrupted halfway. The eyes that looked back at me had changed. Her confidence was gone, replaced with fear. Fear of rejection. Of disgust. With her eyebrows angled outwards, she looked heartbreakingly upset.

I kissed her forehead and lifted her until she could feel the hot summer air against her naked breast, and as it still trickled with water, I fit the nipple in my mouth. She sighed, although I could still feel resistance in her motions. She seemed hyper aware of her anatomy in ways she couldn’t control. After a few seconds, she pushed me away gently and looked back towards the beach.

I spoke softly in her ear. “I don’t care, Florence.” She bit her lower lip and covered herself again, hanging at my neck with a single arm. Even before lowering my gaze, I knew her groin was pressed against mine. On either side, her legs were spread wide. I repeated again with insistence. “I don’t care.” 

Her expression softened. The fear was gone again, but uncertainty seemed to linger at the edge of her mind still. I took her into my arms and rotated to make us face the horizon. I waited for her breathing to have calmed down before reaching underwater to feel her legs. Past her breasts and her ribs, past her flat stomach and her inviting folds, her thighs hardly stretched out from her hips. Instead, they stopped short, about 3 inches down from her pelvis. I let my hand rest against their ends and waited. One, two, three minutes passed. In silence, we stared, and in silence I waited. For her to accept the sincerity of my words.

Finally, I felt her shift under my fingers. Felt her muscles contract and her limbs move, however limited they were. Felt her hand against mine, urging me between her legs. There, she pressed them together to trap my hand. Felt them rub against each other in ways that could only mean a few things.

I walked us out of the water. Slowly, lovingly, her nose buried in my neck, her legs hanging loose under her. Heads turned again as we passed them by but I couldn't have cared less. When we finally reached our towels, I set her down delicately, relishing the sight of her legs and ass sagging against the ground. Hands at her sides, she waddled backwards a few paces, reaching into her cooler once more.

We spent the rest of the afternoon stealing looks at each other. I had brought a copy of Dune with me, but could hardly keep my eyes on the page. Florence, with her wet hair framing her face, looked like a mermaid fresh out of the water. I took a mental picture.

After I had closed and packed my book for good, the rest of our stuff quickly followed suit. I strapped the cooler at the back of her chair like she instructed me and grabbed most of the rest, fitting it in the trunk of my car. As for Florence, she rode not far behind, a pair of fingerless bicycle gloves on to protect her hands. I placed a dry towel on the passenger seat and she transferred to it, waddling to adjust her position. Her chair, neatly folded, went in the back.

We barely talked during the car ride, neither did we feel the need to. Sharing a single look seemed enough, as if we could have an entire conversation simply by reading the other's facial expression. I reached for her thigh and she put her hand on mine, using her nails to trace abstract shapes on my skin.

She pointed to an exit as it came up, then guided me to her place, into the hallway, up the elevator and into her apartment. The AC hit me in the chest like a gust of wind and Florence, who was ahead of me, visibly shivered.

“You live here by yourself?” I asked, taking a look around the living room. Most of the furniture had been set-up close to the ground. 

“Mmmh.” She nodded, rotating 180° and wheeling herself backwards. She removed her gloves. “Maybe you'd like to carry me over to the bed?”

“I'd like that, yes.”

Hands under her pits, I lifted her into my arms and tasted her lips again. They were chapped from spending the day in the sun, but remained delicious still. I moved my hands under her rump to support her and a vision flashed before my eyes. Us kissing aggressively, taking our clothes off like movie stars in a cheap flick, jumping on the bed to devour the other in a quick sequence of cut off shots. When the images had gone away, I stared back at her. That smile. That damn smile. 

I guessed my way through an open door and found her bedroom. As I tried to put her down, I felt her cling to my neck, kissing my Adam's apple and up to my chin. I tried to return the favor but she pushed me away with her nose, burying it behind my ear. I stepped back and sat on the bed with Florence still on my lap. She spread her legs in a split without effort and allowed me to lie on my back, supporting herself with both hands on my chest. She arched her back, our clothes almost in context, and we seemed to remember we still had our clothes on. Not without strain, I flipped my shirt over my head, mindful not to throw her out of balance.

With our eyes locked together, she stuck her thumbs under the straps of her swimsuit and flipped it over her breasts. Her smile, unchanged, bore witness to the return of her confidence. Closing her eyes, she rocked her hips back and forth against my groin, feeling my erection harden under her. She pushed her breasts together sensually before lifting her arms above her head, tousling her curly hair.

I continued undressing her, pushing down her swimsuit to reveal two flowery barbells in her navel, and down further still until it crumpled around her hips. I grabbed her waist and lifted her above me like a figure skater, her short thighs wriggling themselves out of the wet fabric with difficulty. After setting her down, she dismounted me and walked to the other end of the bed, tiny step after tiny step, the rocking of her hips responsible for most of her legs’ movement. She rotated them outwards at first, then back beneath her to take a feeble step before doing the same on the other side. She turned around to face me, pushing her hair back into place, fantastically naked.

Florence let herself fall back and my eyes jumped to her breasts as they jiggled into rest, making no effort to cover herself. Her legs laid before me in their full truths ; scarless, rounded in a way that couldn’t be anything else other than congenital. She lifted them effortlessly towards the ceiling to expose her labias, her confident smile unchanged. Daring.

“Can I take you, Florence?”

“I think we've come past the point of asking each other questions, don't you agree?”