Thai me up by Anonymous

Warm water lapped at her tired feet as the last of the sun’s golden rays reached down towards her, she basking in its glow. The white cotton dress brushed against her ankles and soft sand sifted through tiny toes. She splashed about in shallow waters and cast out ripples into the deep.

Ethereal, that is what it was, this moment presented to man sketched by the hands of the master. It shimmered and twinkled, and contented beachgoers bathed in its brilliance, of the lucky ones to be stood there amidst the splendour.
How did I get here? To this beach, on this continent, at this time?
She had been looking for this feeling for the longest time, longing for it, searched for it in so many unsavoury places with so many dodgy characters (more phantom than real, a string of 001100 coded in the matrix, never connecting beyond the superficial).

“I don’t do deep,” he had stressed this from the beginning, laughed when she hinted at seriousness.

She knew that IT was possible, felt it way down in her gut where her intuition lived, but was entirely unsure as to what IT was.
Even she, a practicing worry pot, felt contentment tugging at her insistent and demanding, yet her edges remained frayed. She was unaccustomed to peace, and he fitted in so well with her setting, bringing anxiety and uncertainty with every interaction.
She knew he was waiting for her, impatiently. He was always demanding, impatient, greedy…

"I didn’t know gold could be this golden…" she mused her reserve momentarily disarmed by the most beautiful of sunsets.

Resetting the default in paradise is easy, it’s maintaining it when in the throes of routines and humdrums and passion… that is when it becomes problematic.
She made her way slowly in the waning light to the hotel where he would be sat waiting, glass in hand. He didn’t do sunset; he was a creature of the dark having embraced his demons fully years before. Whiskey sipped in darkened rooms is more his speed.
The night swiftly descended as she neared her hotel in Bang Tao. The wind picked up roughly smacking palm leaves and lifting soft white sand to sting sunburnt flesh. Tan lines laid thick marking her chocolate brown skin. She smoothed her hand over her body to wipe off gritty particles irritating sensitive skin even further. She wondered what rough hands would feel like; how the welts which would be left behind by his stubble, would hurt.

Ouch.

She hesitated at the entrance to the hotel needing a moment before starting her walk of shame. A lone family and their dog kissed the shoreline as they made their way together towards home, their soft whispers and laughter carried by a gentle breeze and she thought, "Is this what love sounds like?"
Susan wasn't sure, having never known love.

She was however, well-acquainted with lust.
Desire is easily practiced in a social media world where swiping right is an expression of interest, and landing in someone’s DMs is an accepted courting ritual. Hooking up isn’t always the only desired end-result, but most of the time it is.
This was the world she traversed like a pro.
Despite the danger, or maybe because of it.

And this was the day when her two worlds would collide, and she wasn't quite ready for it. But she knew he was waiting, had been waiting for more than a year since their initial match.
And what a year it had been.
She blushed thinking of him, of her...

The lift to the 6^th floor felt like an eternity, despite the majestic view on display. She breathed deeply, her whole body on fire, golden in its brilliance. He had a thing for tan lines and her, when she was undone and wild.
"I've lost my damn mind..." she chided.
The thought trailed off, but remained at the back of her mind as she neared room 606.
She checked herself out in tiny picture frames adorning the hallways in modern art, and ran her hands over the glass, smoothing down wayward hair, before opening the door.
Entering the room she stayed frozen in place.
She couldn't bring herself to walk to him!
"Coward!" she scoffed, "this is what you wanted, he is what you want."
Somewhere along the way she'd lost her courage and her sense of humour. She'd also started hating herself, her craving of him, for his voice, his attention, his eyes on her whilst continents were between them.
The craving was constant and it clouded her mind, always there on her edges: in the office, in supermarket aisles, in her bathroom...

He confused her. She didn't get him, or his need of her.
"Lol," he'd say at everything that came out of her mouth.
"I'm being serious!" she'd shriek, but he'd laugh it off.
Serious had no place in their "thing".
Light, yes.
Frothy, yes.
Serious, no!
Her wickedness, her constant teasing and playfulness; these were the things he wanted. And these were the things she delivered, becoming less herself with each encounter. She could wind him up, she knew all his buttons, and pushed them at the most inappropriate times.
She was scared to death of seeing him in the flesh for the first time.

Susan stood there rooted to the floor whilst her eyes adjusted to the dark.
She reached round tied her hair back, kicking off her sandals, and slipped spaghetti straps off her shoulders. She flashed her widest, toothiest grin at herself in the mirror, giving herself a wink, and stepped forward.

"Game on!" she whispered transforming with each step she took towards him.
She knew his weaknesses. It wasn't something she needed to purchase, or wear.
She just had to turn around, apple-bottomed and lush, lowering her lashes and giggling as she sat down on the edge of the bath holding tight till her knuckles showed white.
"Turn around, show me," he'd command, and she’d obeyed.
“Yes, Sir!” she’d mouth sitting before him on camera.
His breath caught in his throat as she twisted ever so slowly, dropping to her elbows, her hair spilling forward and her face 2inches from the screen, her breath making her view cloudy and her breathing was deafening in the quiet bathroom. She raised up on squishy hands, lifting her arms over her head as if she just won a  gold medal and lifting her hair to give him a better view of her ample behind.
"Cheeky!"
She knew what he wanted of her.
It was so very little of the bounty she had to offer.
It only scratched her surface.
The good stuff was on the inside, it was a shame he would never get to see beyond her surface.

She leaned in for the kiss, on both cheeks, it prickled, his face rough against hers.
"606," he said.
"Hmm?" she had to shake her head to free the cobwebs.
"606…Sounds like a lucky number to me," he teased her roaring with laughter, laughter never reaching his eyes, those held steady. He grabbed her by the waist and drew her into him.
"Hi, Susan, pleased to meet you,” his words thoughtful, polite.
His hands were anything but...
"Mmmmm..."
Brave, naughty Susan was back.
"Can I have you?" she whispered, ready to keep to their agreement.

They agreed that she would call when she was available, and that he would come, travel to wherever in the world she found herself. He had willingly agreed to her terms, and their pact was sealed. So was her fate when she decided to make that call, turning an online flirtation into something real. 

She was primed. 

A smile played across his face but his eyes belied his casualness. They were direct, intense, and unmoving. It was time. 

As she drew closer, his gaze disarmed her. 

He was a good-looking man, everything about him was alpha, his confidence overwhelmed her, setting her body on fire. It scared her that she wanted him this much. 

Time to banish serious thought, nagging doubts and get her head in the game. He grunted promising pleasure. 

Deep down she knew IT was never going to be found with him in Thailand, but she had made the journey nonetheless.

Susan caught a glimpse of her reflection… her eyes were wild.
But her soul was safely tucked away.