Back at the hotel, Angela put her bikini back on and we went down to the little beach. When I say “little beach” I mean just that. It was maybe two blocks long, right in front of the main tourist stretch of souvenir shops and the like. There was an upper, flat sandy bit where most people had their blankets and towels set out, then a short sea wall. Below that, the beach sloped down to the water fairly quickly, but a few people had towels up near the water side of the sea wall, too.
Angela surveyed the tiny beach, obviously dismayed by the really limited size of the place. You couldn’t even really swim much, since a sort of barrier of floats separated the swim area from the rest of the harbor at large.
“I thought it would be better than this,” she said, disappointed.
“Well, we have two choices,” I said. "We can lay out our blanket and enjoy this little, itty bitty beach with all the tourists walking by and staring at us, or we can skip it and go do something else,” I said.
“Like what?”
“The zip line, tour the casino, have lunch… The possibilities are, well, definitely not endless, but there are options,” I said.
Sighing, Angela’s shoulders slumped. “It’s too early for lunch,” she said. “Let’s do the zip line, if that’s O.K. with you. I’d like to check out that shop before we go back to the hotel to change, though,” she said, pointing at a little tourist trap shop on the corner.
Angela’s mood perked up quickly with a bit of retail therapy, and soon she was demanding that I snap a photo of her modeling a T shirt that had a print of a man’s big fat hairy chest on it. The juxtaposition of the image on the shirt vs her smooth, muscular legs sticking out below had me and the saleslady both laughing.
Thankfully, Angela didn’t buy that shirt, but she did get herself a classic Hawaiian shirt with red hibiscuses on a blue background. She urged me to try some similar shirts on, but I declined.
Back at the hotel again, Angela ditched her coverup dress in favor of her boy shorts and her new shirt. “This will be better for the zip line,” she said, and I had to agree that she was probably right.
The walk to the zip line staging area took us past the Casino, heading north along the coastline out of town.
“It doesn’t look like a casino,” Angela said, puzzled.
“It’s not like a casino where people gamble,” I explained. “I guess ‘casino’ used to mean where people gather. At least that’s what they tell you on the tour.”
About fifteen minutes later we arrived at the zip line place and listened to their safety talk after buying a couple of tickets. The surfer guy giving the instructions couldn’t keep his eyes off Angela and I couldn’t blame him one bit. The Hawaiian shirt only came down to about mid-crotch, leaving her legs completely on view, and from the back, her world-class butt was well-defined by the snug knit material of her shorts.
When the talk was over, I put my hand on Angela’s lower back and asked her, “So, ready to do some zipping, babe?” and gave her a kiss. Angela wasn’t the only one who could mark her territory, after all.
We piled into the creaky old Chevy van along with six other soon-to-be zippers for the long ride up to the top of the canyon. Angela had claimed the seat right behind the driver, so I got the middle. A somewhat sullen young teenaged girl got the seat to my right while her parents and little brother sat in the middle row. When she glanced down and noticed my hand on Angela’s thigh she looked up at me with wide eyes, then scooted away as far as the bench seat would allow, but didn’t say anything.
In a bit of a mood, I kept my hand on Angela’s leg the entire trip, squeezing and stroking. I don’t think Angela noticed any of the little drama, as she was too focused on the view outside of the window. The driver kept up a running commentary on the buildings we passed on our way out of town, then on the various plants, and even, when we got a good view of the ocean, talked about the cruise ship that was making its way into Avalon Harbor. Angela took in all of it with wide-eyed wonder.
Finally at the top, Angela and I waited while the others zipped their way down the canyon. I was happy to wait, since the view down the canyon and to the ocean was spectacular. Angela made some sort of comment about how we were last to buy tickets, so should be last to ride, but I doubt that really mattered to anybody else.
As we watched the dad from the family from Salt Lake City get strapped in, Angela said that Emmy had told her we rode tandem.
“Not an option for you two,” the guy getting us into our harnesses said. “You’d be over the weight limit.”
“That’s right,” I said to Angela. “When Emmy and I did it I was fifty pounds lighter than I am now, and she’s much skinnier than you. I’d bet the overall difference would equal that guy’s kid,” I said, pointing at the dad who was now screaming like a little girl as he zoomed down the cable.
“Yeah, we have a two hundred and fifty pound limit,” the harness guy said as he helped me get buckled up.
“Can I go first?” Angela asked.
“Of course you can,” I said. “Remember- it’s not just one zip line all the way down,” I said. “So we’ll see each other a few times before we get to the bottom.”
“Make sure you take my picture when I jump,” she said, handing me her phone. I snapped one right before she jumped, too- the look of determination on her face was just too adorable for words.
At the first landing, Angela said, “That was great!” her face all lit up. “But it would've been better if we could have done it together.”
Angela was completely buzzed with adrenaline when we handed our harnesses back to the attendant at the bottom.
“That was so much fun!” she said. “It was like flying! And we were so high up in the air!”
Walking back towards town hand in hand, I told her that Emmy had been so excited by the experience that we’d immediately bought tickets and done it a second time.
“I don’t think I want to do it again right away,” Angela said, giving it a moment’s thought. “But next time we come here, with Emmy, we all have to do it.”
“It’s a date,” I said, charmed.
We ate a late lunch at a beach bar on the way back to town, then by lucky chance found that the casino tour was just about to start when we inquired.
Up on the balcony, looking out over Avalon Harbor, I said, “This is where Emmy asked me if I thought I could live here.”
“It’s sort of a nice dream, isn’t it? Just to live a relaxing sort of life here on the island, far away from all the noise and hustle of the mainland…” Angela said, leaning her head on my shoulder, my arm around her waist.
“It has a certain appeal,” I agreed.
Back inside the ballroom, Angela asked, “Can you imagine Emmy and the boys playing a concert here? Wouldn’t that be something?”
This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.
“I wonder if that’s a thing that could even happen?” I pondered, enchanted by the idea.
Leaving the casino, I asked, “What’s next?”
“I don’t have any more plans,” Angela confessed. “We could get dinner, maybe find a place that has dancing, or maybe just take the next ferry back to Long Beach?”
“You know what?” I asked as a thought popped into my head. “Let’s play miniature golf.”
“Miniature golf?” Angela asked, not understanding. “Yeah,” I said, suddenly enthused by the idea. “I saw it when Emmy and I came here.” I asked for directions and within a few minutes were were getting our clubs and scoring sheets.
“I haven’t played this since I was a little girl,” Angela said, bemused. “They have this at one of the hotels near the beach back home.”
“It’s been a few years for me, too,” I said, failing to mention that I’d really only ever played with Stephanie.
Of course, we were both terrible, but it was a lot of fun anyway. We made up a rule that as we tallied up the score for each hole the loser had to kiss the winner. Obviously, that meant the winner kissed the loser, too, but hey- we were having fun and it was a win all around.
The high school-aged girls ahead of us catcalled and yelled “Get a room!” the first couple of times we kissed, but soon enough were cheering us on and laughing, much to the annoyance of some of the other players on the tiny course.
Done with golf, we headed down towards the waterfront to look for a place to have dinner.
Angela pointed out a seafood place, but relented when I told her I didn’t really care for the stuff. We settled on a contemporary American restaurant after looking at the menu posted outside.
Neither of us were really very hungry, so we both had salads, which were just the right choice. Angela asked the waitress about dancing, and she was told of a bar around the corner that had a jukebox, so that’s where we headed after we ate.
The little dive bar did in fact have a dance floor, but at eight on a late-season Sunday evening it was empty. The few people in the place were playing pool, or darts, or just sitting and talking. I didn’t think it looked very promising, but Angela insisted we get a table and a couple of drinks and see if it picked up at all.
“The last ferry is at ten, so we can’t spend too much time here,” Angela said. “But maybe…”
The drinks were at least decent, and it was nice to just sit and relax for a little bit. Eventually, even though the little dance floor was completely empty, Angela dragged me out of my chair to dance with her.
The first song was a lightweight pop song that I didn’t know, but Angela definitely did. Well, of course she’d selected it, so she must have known it, right?
As we danced, Angela sang along with the lyrics that said “You can be my baby and I’ll be your girl and you’ll have this heart of mine.” Singing along, the line about “make you smile” did, in fact, make me smile. Angela’s sweet enthusiasm was endearing her to me more every single day, and dancing on that empty floor, my hands on her hips, I fell in love with her a tiny bit more with every smile, every sparkle of her eyes.
Angela was happy in my arms, which in turn, made me happy that she was in my embrace.
After a few mid-tempo songs, a slower one came on and Angela snuggled up, wrapping her arms around me as we danced really close. “Leah,” she said, looking up at me. “Thanks for this weekend.” She raised herself up on her tiptoes for a kiss, her big, blue eyes misty with emotion.
I leaned down and touched my lips to hers, soft and tender. It was one of those perfect moments.
Until all of a sudden it wasn’t. Just as we sank into the kiss, a guy’s loud voice brayed out, “Hell yeah! Lookit ‘em kiss! That’s hot!”
Angela jerked back in surprise at the interruption, looking for the jackass that had shouted.
“Hey! Don’t stop!” the guy said, loud enough for the entire bar to hear. “That was fuckin’ hot! Kiss each other again!” Of course, this caused the other two guys at his table to laugh like lunatics, lifting their beer bottles in some sort of drunken toast to their pal’s sharp wit.
“Let’s go,” Angela said, her good mood ruined in an instant.
“Yeah, O.K.,” I agreed. “This place suddenly lost its charm.”
After we left, I took Angela’s hand and led her along the boardwalk and then out onto the pier.
“Don’t let those idiots bother you,” I told her, lifting her chin up so she’d look me in the eyes. “The world is full of assholes like that. You can’t let them under your skin. What they think doesn’t matter.”
“I know,” Angela said, tears starting to form at the corners of her eyes.
“Hey, they were right about one thing, though,” I said.
Angela gave me that puzzled look of hers that I found so cute, with her lips pursed into a pout and her forehead furrowed.
“It was really hot,” I said, and leaned down to kiss her.
This brought a bittersweet smile to Angela’s face as she tilted her head for the kiss. I tried to express how much I loved her in that kiss, and in turn, she showed me how she felt, too.
“Let’s hurry and grab our stuff and take that ferry,” I suggested, pointing at the boat approaching the harbor. “I think we’ve done what there is to do here.”
“Sounds like a good plan to me,” Angela agreed.
We just barely made it in time, boarding right before they untied the lines and cast off. Unfortunately, the idiots from the bar were on the ferry, and spotting them, Angela steered us up to the top deck, which was open-air.
We found a spot as out of the wind as we could, snuggling under the Mexican beach blanket from Angela’s bright yellow tote bag. Angela huddled against me, spoon-style, clutching the ends of the blanket closed. This left my hands free, and hidden from view. It wasn’t too long before I was nuzzling her hair, kissing behind her ears, and fondling her breasts. I could lie and say it was an attempt to distract Angela from the cold and to improve her mood, but really, I wouldn’t fool anyone with that. No, the feel of her body against mine, the smell of her hair and skin, the emotions of the day- these things all had me in a loving mood, and with an opportunity like that, how was I going to pass it up?
At first it was just a light squeeze through the Hawaiian shirt and bikini top, but when Angela responded positively, making soft, sexy little noises, I undid a few of the buttons and slipped my hands inside the rough silk of the shirt. The tiny little bits of pink lycra barely covering her boobs failed spectacularly in their defense against my hands, and within moments I had them pushed aside.
“Somebody will figure out what you’re doing,” Angela gasped as I played with the little bits of metal adorning her flesh.
“Want me to stop?” I asked, my voice husky with desire.
“I… No, don’t stop,” she said, turning her head to kiss me. “Just… No, too much,” she protested. “More gently.”
“I thought you liked it like that,” I said, easing up.
“I do,” Angela said, chewing on her lower lip. “I like it too much. You’ll make me come right here if you keep doing that.”
“Well, we don’t want that, now, do we?” I asked, nibbling on her earlobe.
“God, Leah,” Angela said. “That feels so good, but…”
“I get it,” I said, softly stroking. “I’ll be good.”
“You are good,” she gasped. “Too good.”
“Alright,“ I said, replacing her bikini top where it belonged. “I can wait until we get home.”
“Ohhh…” Angela groaned in relief and disappointment.
We spent the rest of the trip in a platonic cuddle, huddling together for warmth as well as the enjoyment of having our bodies up tight against each other.
Angela wanted to wait for the jackasses from the bar to clear out before we disembarked. Of course, if it were up to me I’d simply tell them to fuck off and if they made any sort of stink, well, tossing them into the harbor should do their attitudes some good and make me feel better at the same time. Angela wanted to avoid any sort of confrontation, though, so we waited until we were just about the last passengers left on the boat.
“Have a good night, ladies,” the crewman said as we stepped off the gangplank onto the dock.
“Thanks!” Angela said, her smile bright.
In the parking lot, I heard loud drunken voices. Of course, it was the loudmouth jerk and his two buddies, arguing about whether they should drive or not. I mentally gave them points for recognizing that getting behind the wheel was a bad idea, at the same time as I was sure it was inevitable that they would actually drive home anyhow.
“Look!” the lead asshole said to his friends when he spotted us crossing the now almost empty parking lot. “It’s the two rug munchers!” Then, raising his voice to make sure we could hear him, he shouted, “Hey, bitches! You got any videos on Pornhub I can watch? ‘Cause that’d be hot as fuck, watching you two eat each others’ pussies! Hey! I’m serious! I’d pay to watch you two go at it!”
His two friends thought this was the funniest thing they’d ever heard, and soon were joining in, hollering about amateur videos of Angela and me.
“Stay here,” I said to Angela.
“What’re you going to do?” she asked, grabbing my arm.
“I’m going to teach them some manners,” I said.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I’m going to pound some politeness into ‘em,” I explained, peeling her fingers off my arm.
“You’re going to fight them?”Angela asked, finally understanding my idioms.
“No, it won’t be a fight,” I said. “Look at ‘em. They can hardly stand, they’re so drunk. All it’ll take is a solid shove and they’ll be on the floor.”
“Leah!” Angela said, the tone of her voice getting my attention. “Don' sink to their level,” she said, completely seriously. “We just go home.”
Letting out a deep breath, I turned away from the jerks on the other side of the parking lot. “Alright. Let’s go,” I said, and took Angela’s hand and gave it a squeeze. We did our best to ignore the three guys as we got into Angela’s little convertible and left. Presumably the three idiots got into their car eventually, probably crashing on their way home.
“I’m really sorry about those assholes,” I said to Angela after a few minutes. “They really ruined a great day.”
“No, they didn’t,” Angela said in reply, taking her eyes off the road to look at me. “They ruined a few minutes of a great day, that’s all.”