Firecracker at the beach | 2016

She had bright red hair, a string bikini, and a sailor's mouth that worked overtime now that she was drunk. I had come with her group to the beach, but I had driven the truck here so they had a jump start on me, and somehow chasing them into the freezing breakers so they wouldn't drown wasn't making me want to drink any more.

“Fuck the cold!” She screamed as she turned around and ripped down her bikini bottoms to moon the wave about to break over her. It did, and she fell forwards, stumbling to support herself, one hand in the sand, the other on her bathing suit.

I came over to help, seeing her dilemma, smiling inwardly at the moonlight shining on her well-rounded ass.

“It's not funny,” She said, coughing out seawater as I helped her up from the sand.

And then she laughed, wading back out into the waves and pulling her swimsuit back up about halfway so it made her look like a full-grown version of the Coppertone girl.

“You hear that?!” She shouted at the water. “It's not funny!”

And she lifted her top, flashing the water now, falling back hard as it crashed into her.

I pulled her out of the surf, soaking wet now but thoroughly entertained by her antics.

She pulled wet hair out of her face and looked at me sullenly.

“Fuck you.” She said. “You saved my life.”

She pulled away before I could protest that I hadn’t, that it was nothing, and rushed back out to do it again.

I shook my head and sighed.

Later, showered and changed, I made my way over to her Ford Bronco parked across the motel parking lot. It ate gas but was hellishly fun to drive. I had enjoyed it to the hilt while they had gotten drunk behind me, and now I was back to get dry clothes out of my bag.

“Thank you.” Came the voice behind me, and I turned to find her looking up at me, still mad at the world and drunk to boot, but more subdued.

“For what?“ I asked. But she looked away. I reached out cautiously and touched her shoulder, suddenly a little concerned she’d taken a turn for the worse.

It was all she needed. She turned and pounced, joining her sweet, rum-soaked lips to mine. I fell back against the car door.

“Is there a towel in there?“ She asked, and I realized she was stripping off her wet suit and shorts right there in the parking lot.

“Hold on.” I said, opening the door as fast as I could. “I’ll check.”

She pushed in after me, pressing her body against me, and let her hands scratch across my back.

“Don’t bother.” She said, still drunk, and then smiled against my lips. "Eat me."She said, grinning hard in the dark.

She sank back on the seat, hand already in my hair, making a fist as she pushed me down her stomach. And I went, bending low towards her fire-red hair, pushing her legs wide, and letting my tongue trail up and between her lips.

I tasted the salt water and smiled as she groaned. Lifesaving had its privileges.