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Their eyes are glued to their screens, unaware that I’m about to masturbate right in front of them. Okay, before you start, I know it’s fucked up, all right? You don’t have to tell me that. Getting off by masturbating in public is not normal. Even I realize that. But that doesn’t change the fact that I fucking love it. The adrenaline, the dopamine, the oxytocin… They all mix together into an addictive hormonal cocktail, so potent that I can hardly cum behind closed doors anymore. Mmmph… Just thinking about it makes me want to… I’ve done the dirty deed in about every public place on campus that you could imagine: the library, the local Starbucks, the gym — hell — I’ve even done it on the quad at night… in the nude. I almost got caught by the university’s security that time and got my legs all scratched by thorns for my trouble; you try running through the woods buck naked back to your dorm room and see how you like it. Anyways, I’ve become pretty adept at scoping out a likely spot for some public self-gratification. I can tell at a glance whether people are likely to be nosy, or if a seat is too on display. It’s my special gift, a sex sense if you will (sorry, dad joke). But I wasn’t always this cautious. In fact, my voyeuristic career almost came to an end prematurely when I… but why rush my tale? Just relax, and let me tell you about the time I almost got caught flicking the bean in about the worst place you could imagine: a place infamous for not tolerating any noise of any kind, moans, groans, and whimpers included — the university library reading room.

I arrive late in the morning, when most of the tables and private desks have already been taken. Setting my stuff down, I glance around: a packed house. Perfect. I love a captive audience. As I scope out the venue, I happen to spy my friend (and occasionally more-than-friend) Charlie sitting a couple tables away from me, which takes me clean aback. He’s a notoriously lax student, famous for showing up to class on exam day high as a kite on coke and Ritalin. Bastard still gets better grades than I do too, which just goes to show there’s no justice in this world. He’s sitting next to some Indian chick (Swetha? Smrithi? Shampa?) his eyes glued to her, I hate to admit it, impeccable cleavage. That explains why he’s here so early. Charlie’s after another “study-buddy” as he likes to call them. “They teach me the material,” he always says with a twinkle in his eye, “and in return I teach them that their vibrator isn’t the only thing that’s good for fucking.” Idiot. Yeah, he’s a fuck-boy and a tool, but he’s my fuck-boy and my tool; and he just so happens to be A-MA-ZING in bed… so I put up with it. I wave at Charlie to catch his eye. He looks up from her cleavage and, catching sight of me, rolls his eyes: he knows about my little predilection you see. I wink and wiggle my tongue at him suggestively. He snickers, drawing ugly looks from those around him, especially — to my satisfaction — the pretty Indian girl (seriously, what is her name? Lakshmi?). I smirk and glance down at my laptop, all sweet and innocent. Nothing to see here. Inhaling slowly, I try to keep my breathing even and measured. Casually, I rest my right hand in my lap. I bite my lower lip. Glancing around, nobody seems to be taking the slightest interest in what I’m doing. All their eyes are glued to their screens, unaware that I’m about to masturbate right in front of them. Carefully, I slide my fingers under my summer dress, doing my best to keep my expression indifferent. I intentionally forgot to wear underwear this morning, as is my habit. Panties are nice and everything, but they’re a pain when you’re trying to finger-fuck yourself without being noticed. My fingers brush my clit, making me jump. Some guy sitting across from me glances up. I smile. He smiles back and looks down hastily at his screen again, all embarrassed. Poor baby. If only he knew what I was doing right now… My fingers are working my clit in little circles, each rotation sending zaps of pleasure up my body. God, I wish I could play with my nipples, but I’m pretty sure someone would notice that. I can feel myself growing wetter. I spread my legs a little more and lean back, pushing my hips forward. There we go. I slide a finger up my soaking river, savoring the sensation as it stretches my walls. Slowly, carefully, I slide my finger in and out, in and out, my ears perked for any wet smacking sounds that might give me away. Fuck though, this feels good… so hot, and dirty, and wrong. That’s it. Right there. Good girl, I coo to myself, as my finger slides in deeper. I can feel myself gushing now, probably soaking the chair beneath me. I have two fingers in now. I just want to — just want to — I moan on instinct, having momentarily forgotten where I am. Heads turn in my direction. Charlie looks up, his face no longer smiling but tense. Shit, did I give myself away? Paranoid, I look around again. Is that Indian girl Charlie’s with on to me? She keeps looking over, frowning. No, no, it’s just my imagination. Just my — Oh, my god! I shudder, my finger inadvertently pressing my G-spot. My knees come together of their own accord. More heads turn to look my way. I pretend that I’m having a coughing fit. I suck in my breath, my face flushing with lust and embarrassment. Just a little more, I promise myself. Just a little longer — “Excuse me,” says a harsh voice behind me, making me start violently. My back straightens in an instant, unintentionally trapping my fingers in my cunt. Shit! I turn slowly to face my inquisitor, the blood draining from my face: a moth-eaten librarian stands behind me, her foot tapping in irritation on the floor. I wet my lips; my fingers still buried knuckle-deep in my throbbing pussy. “Y-yes?” I whimper, trying not to move my fingers and draw her eyes to my lap. “Young lady,” she says in a high-pitched, reedy voice, like an owl’s, “do the words, ‘Quiet Reading Room’ mean anything to you?” She inspects me quizzically like I’m some kind of idiot. “I… I… I…” I’m babbling, trying desperately to form coherent sentences. Meanwhile, an orgasm, unbidden but inevitable, threatens to overwhelm me. My pussy twitches irritably against my fingers, impatient for more pleasure. “I’m sorry,” I finish lamely, unable to think of anything else. She stares at me, squiggle-eyed. Oh, God, please don’t make me stand up, I silently beg. Please don’t expose me in front of all these people. Please… please… please… She sighs and shakes her head, like a parent with a disappointing child. “Just try and be more respectful, dear,” she says. I nod my head and, after another searching look at me, she departs. Whew! I lean back and exhale in relief. That was close. I smile to myself and, looking up, see Charlie leering at me from across the room. He flicks his tongue out at me and makes a rude gesture. The Indian girl (I swear to God I know her name) shoots me a withering look. I smile placidly back at her and lazily let me eyes wander to her lovely breasts. Mmm… My pussy awakens again at the sight of those soft, brown melons, peeping coquettishly from out of her deep-cut blue sweater. Maybe I’ll just finish up before getting out of — “Ehm… excuse me…” says a voice so close to me that for a moment I think it’s my conscience. “What are you doing?

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The flirting, the games, it had to stop. She wanted him and there was no better time than the present. Kara watched from her peephole as Dean unlocked his door, he used a code that she wrote down and hoped to God that she got it right. She needed to get into his apartment to put her plan in motion; she was horny and couldn’t think straight and it was all his fault. Every time he saw her, he’d say “hello” in that deep, masculine voice that she loved so much. He always looked her in the eye when speaking to her, and oh, she couldn’t forget the way he twisted his long dreads into a bun when he was preparing to help her with her groceries. Yes, it was time to end the games and she had just the plan. She’d watched him for months and had figured out his routine. Once he unlocked that door, he was heading for the shower which gave her 20 minutes to freshen up, get ready and be at his place. The thought of what was about to happen had her dashing from the peephole to her bedroom; tonight, was going to be fun.

He was enjoying his shower when he heard the “beep” from his alarm. He took a quick look at his camera and saw her, beautiful Kara. She was bent in front of his door with a bag of groceries. He figured she must have gone to the wrong door and was about to tell her when he heard her say, “I’m going to fuck him tonight! Even if it means breaking this damn door down! Ugh, why won’t this fucking code work?”. She wants to fuck me. He thought to himself, he couldn’t help but chuckle. If she wanted to fuck him, all she had to do was tell him, but he guessed she wanted to do it her way. As for the code, she was never going to get in, the code had to be entered with his fingerprint for it to work. He chuckled again watching her, he hoped she knew what she was doing because once he let her in, he had every intention of fucking her hard, but he’d let her play her game first. He watched her enter the code again and decided to unlock it from his end; he watched the grin that lit her face and he knew tonight was going to be fun.

Victory! She unlocked the door and did a quick happy dance before going into his unit. She could feel her panties get wet with anticipation. She had left the grocery bag in front of his door as there was nothing in it, she had simply needed an excuse in case someone saw her. She walked in and looked around his unit, however, the only room that was of interest to her was his bedroom. Kara quietly walk towards his bedroom; the door was open and there he stood with his back to her. He was a big and gorgeous man who was only covered by a towel around his waist. For a moment she hesitated but once she felt the trickle of her juices down her leg, she knew she had to take care of business. She had never been this turned on in her life and the object of her desire was standing before her. He still didn’t know she was there, taking one last breath, she slowly took off her trench coat and her bra, leaving her naked on top. She decided to leave her panties and heels on. She walked towards him in hopes to catch him by surprise when she heard the bedroom door slam behind her.

He heard her gasp loudly and he chuckled, game over! He had waited and watched her through the camera. The nerve of her to think she could break into his house and fuck him, well she had something else coming for her. He loved a bold woman, but he was bolder. “So, you want to fuck me,” he said, not a question but a statement. He could see she hadn’t expected this, but she was going to get it anyway, she was on his turf. He saw her lift her head high and declare loudly, “yes, I want to fuck you.” He smiled, satisfied with that answer. He immediately dropped the towel from around his waist and said, “then come over here”.

She knew she should be scared, but she got more and more excited. She had wanted to shock him, but he had turned the tables on her. She really didn’t mind though as long as she was getting fucked. She walked closer to him and watched as his cock grew larger and thicker. Oh yes, she picked the right man for the job. He pulled her forcefully towards him once she got close enough and turned her around so that her back was to his chest. He held her two hands captive with one of his own and tilted her head back to whisper in her ear. “This is not going to be soft and sweet, but rather hard and dirty, sweetheart.” Without warning, he ripped her panties from her body and inserted two fingers into her pussy. “You are so wet” he said as he stroked her pussy with his hands. “Tell me what you want,” he said. She couldn’t think about the details, but she knew she wanted to be pleased.

Dean moved Kara to the bed, if pleasure was all she wanted, then pleasure he would give her. He knew she hadn’t realized that he had ties on the bed, but he had set that up just for her. He had also set up some toys for her, but he bet she hadn’t seen those either. The plans he had for her were strictly pleasurable, but she had to be taught a lesson. He rarely explored this side him but hearing her over the camera had him in the mood to explore. He removed his hand from her pussy and released her hands from behind her back. “Get on the bed,” he ordered. “Spread your legs and arms wide.” He saw the look of surprise on her face, but it was gone in a flash. He tied her legs and arms to the bed frame and looked at her. She was a work of art, beautiful and patiently waiting to be pleased.

“Your little stunt made me miss dinner, Kara and now I’m a starved man,” he said. Kara hadn’t expected all this, she just wanted to be fucked. She didn’t like being tied up, but she guessed it was all part of the act. But what would she know, she had never had sex with a man before! She had made sure she stretched her pussy with her dildo before embarking on this ridiculous journey.

The Internet had told her it would hurt, and it had, but now she was ready for a man. This man, however, was taking his sweet-ass time. “Okay, I’m hungry too, so could you just fuck me now and we can get a bite to eat after?” she heard him laugh, obviously she had said something funny. “Kara, I plan to eat now” he said as he strode towards her and planted his face between her legs, his tongue darted out and licked her clit and she gasped. She had not been expecting that, but it felt good. As he licked and sucked her pussy, she wanted to grab his hair, but her hands were tied. He licked all around her pussy, sucked her clit, then inserted his tongue into her pussy. He replaced his tongue with his fingers and moved his tongue to her clit. He used his free hand to play with her nipples making them hard. He moved his head towards her breast and sucked each nipple into his mouth with the same rhythm he was fingering her pussy. The pleasure was intense, it had her moaning and shaking, she was on the verge of an orgasm when he removed his hands from her pussy and lifted his head from her breast. “NO! don’t stop, I was almost there” she said. Again, he chuckled and said, “don’t worry, you will get there again soon.”

If she thought this was going to be fast, then she thought wrong. Her eyes were closed; hence, he used that opportunity to put the nipple clamps on her breast. Again, he saw the shock on her face, this time from the pain of the clamps. “I know they hurt but trust me, it will bring you the utmost pleasure” he said, and saw her relax a little. He then attached the sync vibrator to her pussy, flicked the switch and watched her eyes widen, he had her just where he wanted her. Setting the vibration to wave, he watched her being pleasure by the toy and began to stroke his dick. She released moans and thrashed her head from left to right. He knew she was about to cum, so he turned off the vibrator. “Dean!” she yelled from frustration and he chuckled. “Very soon, Kara, you will get your pleasure.”

Kara was so frustrated! Twice he had stopped her from an orgasm but there was more pleasure in revenge. “Untie me Dean,” she said with a little more force than necessary, but it was time for her to take control. He untied her legs first, untied her arms, and she pulled him onto the bed startling him. “No more games. I want you to fuck me now!” Not one to be asked twice, Dean flipped their positions and entered her in one smooth and hard thrust. “DEAN!” She screamed as an instant orgasm slammed into her. Her body shook over and over as Dean continued to thrust into her. He softly choked her which was different from the hard thrust in her pussy. She moaned as he put her legs over his shoulder to penetrate her at a deeper level. Another orgasm rocked her, but dean was not done. He turned her so that he back was to his front, “I want you to watch me fuck you” he said, and she noticed for the first time the full-length mirror in his room. He pulled her arms back and thrust into her from behind with full force. This is how she had always wanted to be fucked; she could feel herself creaming his cock. His thrust became faster and harder and she could tell he was about to cum. “Dean, I want you to cum in my mouth.”

Without missing a beat, he eased out of her pussy and watched her get on her knees in front of him. She stroked his dick then put it inside her mouth. She slowly swirled her tongue around his head, and he lost it. He was past the point for slow. Filling his hands with her hair, he thrust deep into her mouth. She gagged on his dick and the sensation was wonderful. He kept fucking her mouth like a possessed man, but it felt so good and warm. He gave one more thrust and let out a hoarse cry as he ejaculated deep in her throat. Kara licked her lips and watch as Dean lifted her back onto the bed. He got on his knees and began to eat her out again. Her clit was extremely sensitive to his tongue and she could feel her orgasm coming. Dean penetrated her with his fingers and felt her shake. He knew it was time to unleash her pleasure. Removing his fingers from her pussy, he moved his hands towards her breast. He sucked on her clit as he removed the clamps from her nipples. He heard her loud scream as she squirted, he continued to eat her out as she shook from the intensity of the pleasure. Once she stopped shaking, Dean tucked her into bed, she had passed out. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the pleasure they had both received; tonight had definitely been fun

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I looked out over the pool to a pristine beach not one hundred steps below the chlorinated water. To the left, I saw trees and a stone fence, to the right, more palm trees and the same stone fence. Both fences transitioned into a jagged rock wall that defined the perimeter of the private beach. I couldn't see the neighbors on either side. It was perfect.

I heard the real estate agent exit the sliding glass door. She was a heavy-set woman, impeccably dressed, with a phony happy sales attitude. I didn't care for her much. She wore a bit too much perfume and always thought she knew what was best for me. Of course, I didn't really care for anyone so she was at a disadvantage to begin with.

"I'll take it." I said without turning to look at her. I heard her high heels stop on the rock patio.

"You haven't really looked at the house, Mr. Tomlinson." There she goes trying to control my thoughts again. I was only interested in the privacy. This place blocked out the rest of the world. It would be my private little slice of heaven. The house was devoid of furniture which was a good thing. It meant it was already vacant and I could close the deal quickly.

"Make the offer Mrs. Johnson. Full asking price." I raised my hand in hopes she would see that I had already made my decision. This was the fourth place I looked at and the first to meet my original qualifications. If she had just listened, she could have sold it this morning and not wasted half my day.

"Are you sure? I am quite confident we can negotiate it down ten, maybe twenty percent." God, I am glad she doesn't work for me. I would fire the bitch on the spot. What part of "make the offer" didn't she understand? I wanted the property and didn't want to deal with anyone any longer than absolutely necessary. I turned to her.

"Make the offer. Full asking price." I made it sound a bit ominous. Why did I have to repeat myself? I hated the need for agents. She stepped back a bit and reached into her purse for her phone.

"Of... of course, Mr. Tomlinson." She fumbled her phone, and it almost dropped to the stone patio. "I'll have the papers drawn up immediately. They will want ten percent in earnest money." She was back to her business self. "Would you like me to bring the paperwork to you tomorrow morning?" Like I wanted to see this woman first thing in the morning or ever again for that matter.

"A Monica Rose will call you and complete the purchase." I started walking back through the house toward my car. I wasn't interested in a conversation or politely accompanying her out. Happily, I chose not to ride with Johnson so I hopped in my car and sped off.

I entered the hotel at the rear entrance. I don't have to feign niceties to the staff that way. I needed to get my new house livable as soon as possible. I expected to close by end of next week. I had enough lawyers on the payroll to make sure that it would go smoothly. I would need furniture and all the other necessities to make it home. I called up one of the few people in the world I respected.

"Monica, its Dale Tomlinson." Monica handles things for me. She doesn't discuss options and try to help. She just does.

"Mr. Tomlinson, what can I do for you?" Yes, that's what I like to hear. No bullshit niceties. Just business.

"I am purchasing a beachfront home and need it furnished and move-in ready as soon as possible." Watch her work.

"This week, sir." She sounded a bit hesitant. Not like her at all.

"That is what 'as soon as possible means.' " I usually didn't have to repeat myself to her.

"Of course sir! Address?" I could almost see her writing it down as I regurgitated it. I told her to talk with Mrs. Johnson to finalize the sale and to access the property.

"Style?" I told her it would be classic comfort. I intended to spend a lot of time there. I don't think it was an actual style, but Monica had a wonderful way of interpreting my needs.

"Budget?" Whatever it takes. I didn't want to limit her creativity. I was going to actually live there.

"I will get a flight out tomorrow." She was fast. That's why I liked her. I don't think she cared for me personally, but that was unimportant. I knew she liked my business, and she charged me well for her speed. Fine with me; I can always make more money. It's time that is at a premium. What's funny is that I have only met her in person a couple of times. Now I just call her with what I want and it's done. I couldn't think of a more perfect arrangement. I hung up the phone—no need for goodbyes.

It took three weeks to occupy the house. Damn owners were out of country, and I had to wait till they returned. They should have made arrangements for a possible sale before they left. Assholes pretty much ruined a week of my life. I really hate people. On the other hand, Monica was wonderful as always. The house was move-in ready. I was sure it cost me an arm and a leg, but it was worth it. Even the kitchen and bar were stocked. I only had to transfer my personal effects, and I was home.

I wasn't sure why she had put a pool table in the rec room. I never have guests so it won't get any use. I guess it was just there to take up the large space available. The pool had way too many lounge chairs, but I guess it gave the area a more lived in look. The beach itself was exactly as I envisioned. One lounger under a giant umbrella. This is why I bought the place. I aimed to spend a good portion of my life lying in that chair, reading books and letting the gentle waves wash away the rest of the world. This was paradise as far as I was concerned.

I walked down to the sand, and sure enough, the waves were playing a symphony on the bordering breaker rocks. Civilization was drowned out. The adjoining beaches were completely blocked from view so I could expect zero interruptions. I was so pleased, I decided not to go back up. I stripped to my boxers and lined the lounger up for maximum shade time. I loved the beach, the waves, and the warmth. I could do without the sun. It was way too bright and made me sweat. I lay back and let the sound of the waves roll over my body. This was by far the best purchase I had ever made. It wasn't long before I was sound asleep. It was just that peaceful.

The damn sun woke me about two hours later. It began to roast my feet by the time I had pulled myself from dreamland. There has to be an umbrella that tracks the sun. I vowed to find one as I snapped my knees up to cool my feet. There is always something in this universe that likes to screw with my well-being. Today, it was the sun.

I returned inside and fired up my laptop. It was time to review my trades. I had inherited a huge bond portfolio just before the 2008 crash. My grandmother, the only person I ever enjoyed being around, had conservatively purchased munis, federal and triple A corporate bonds. She purchased them from selling off my grandfather's position in a highly profitable internet firm at his death. She was a lovely woman whose passing I took hard. Having lost my parents early in life, Grandma was my rock and my soul. As the bonds matured and the munis were called, I dumped the money into the stock market. My timing couldn't have been better. When everyone was selling, I was buying. I grew a $100 million portfolio into a half billion dollar empire with me as the emperor.

Most people didn't even know my name, and I liked it that way. Money can buy power and influence. I used it to ensure my isolation. Monica was my wall against the world. She would handle all the crap that the money generated when it was spent. She, unfortunately, was becoming a bit irreplaceable. I paid her generously in hopes that she never moved on. It would be almost impossible to find anyone who could match her efficiency. I sometimes got shivers thinking about life without her.

With my portfolio looking as good as ever, I started opening cabinets in the kitchen looking for something to eat. Monica had seen to that with her usual perfection. There were plates and silverware, a drawer full of take-out menus sorted by Yelp ratings, the fridge and freezer filled with food, and one cabinet filled to the doors with wonderful cans of heaven. My one vice was SpaghettiOs.

High School was hell for me. I had never fit in so I spent four years trying to stay far away from others. When I failed, I suffered. I wasn't big enough, not good looking enough, and I never knew what to say. There was only one person who didn't care about my awkwardness. My Grandma would be waiting for me to return home and could tell from my expression what kind of day I had. My best memories of high school were sitting in the kitchen eating SpaghettiOs with my Grandma. It may sound sad to others, but to me it was a wonderful stress-free environment. Just the smell of the canned wonder cooking on the stove would let me forget my nameless torturers. To this day, those cans brought Grandma back to my mind. Monica was priceless; she knew me well.

I poured a can into a pot on the stove and sat back to enjoy the aroma. Just like the waves, the smell washed away the world. I could almost see Grandma's smiling face. I tried not to eat it every day so I wouldn't get bored. I grabbed a bowl and poured a serving and headed off to the flat panel to watch a movie. A nap on the beach, SpaghettiOs and a good movie. This day was better than most. I made a mental note to eat something a bit more nutritious later.

Besides some annoying interruptions by assholes that needed my signature, my week went fairly well. I allocate one day a week to clean house and do the laundry. I had a maid once, but I just couldn't stand having her around. The repeated "good mornings" and "how are you todays" made me want to puke. I decided it was easier on my soul to just handle it myself. Hell, it was the only real work I had to do anyway. It was almost therapeutic. One day of work made the other six days more valuable.

It was about four o'clock when I finished the final load a laundry. It being summer, I still had a good four hours of good beach time left. I grabbed a book, donned my swimming trunks, and headed to my lounger. I mentally kicked myself for forgetting to research a self-adjusting umbrella. I began to adjust the umbrella and felt a sharp pain in my ankle as my foot dug into the sand. Something jabbed me hard right below where the ankle bone stuck out. I whipped my foot up and saw two small welts just above the heel. It didn't look that serious although it was a bit sore. It must have been some glass or something in the sand. Just another thing trying to ruin my day.

I lay on the lounger and opened my book at the marker. It wasn't a great book, but I had a rule about finishing every book I start. It even paid off one time with a fantastic ending that made the slog through the rest more than worthwhile. I flexed my leg and ankle a bit trying to shake off the noticeable discomfort from the sand bite. I figured I would be stuck with the pain till I was able to sleep it off tonight. I went back to my book.

An incessant uneven humming began to disturb my world. I looked up from the book and saw a boat breaking the waves not far off shore. It seemed too small for the ocean. Every time a wave went by, it pulled the small engine out of the water and it emitted a high pitched scream. Fucking idiots. They had a whole ocean to play in, and they picked my back yard. I went back to my book figuring they would pass in a moment. The engine got louder as I read.

I looked back up and saw the small craft heading toward my beach. It sounded like the throttle was opened all the way. I lost the grip on my book and it dropped closed. "Son of a bitch!" I said as I realized I would have to spend the next five minutes trying to find my place again. I was really beginning to dislike the captain of the annoying vessel. The boat wasn't slowing and was still heading to my beach. If they thought they were landing here, they had better think again. I grabbed my phone in case I had to call the police.

The boat began veering off to the left toward the breakwater. The idiots should be able to see the rocks. That's all I need is a smashed up boat to ruin my pristine view. "Hey, wake up!" I shouted and waived my arm. The boat kept coming and didn't slow a bit. I screamed again, signaling with both arms, but the boat stayed to its course and slammed into the rocks. I heard wood give way when it hit and saw what looked like a naked body fly out toward the rocks.

I stood quickly from my chair. A little too quickly as my leg had seemed to go numb a bit. I moved toward the shore trying to work the sleep out of it yelling for whoever would listen. "Hey asshole! This is a private beach." I received no response, but saw something bobbing close to shore. It looked like a body. Fuck, that's all I need. Someone came all the way to my house to die. I moved quickly to water in hopes of forestalling a visit from the coroner. My arm didn't really want to cooperate as numbness ran up my side and toward my neck. I moved quickly into the shallows and rolled what I now realized was a naked woman onto her back.

She sputtered a little water out of her mouth and looked up to me with hugely dilated eyes. "Should have just left me," she said with a Spanish accent before she broke into laughter. Pissed, I grabbed her wrist and began pulling her lethargic body toward the sand with my good arm. Her head was oozing a bit of blood although it didn't look too serious. Suddenly, pain forced me to my knees. Something was really wrong. I didn't have any energy to stand back up. My whole chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself. I dropped her arm and remembered my phone. I picked the first number in my recent list and dialed Monica.

"Monica... Monica." I couldn't finish the sentence. I didn't have enough air in my lungs. I realized I might be dying. A wave a fear ran through me. I wasn't ready to go yet. I haven't even finished the book.

"Fuck! You're having a heart attack!" The woman sat up, and two rather attractive breasts bounced on her chest. She was failing miserably at trying to hold back laughter. My vision was drifting in and out which made the whole situation surreal. I fell backward, half in and half out of the water. She grabbed my phone before it got wet. "Mr. Private Beach needs a doctor." She laughed into the phone and threw it over her shoulder into the water. The last thing I remember was her Spanish laughter as she straddled my stomach.

I awoke in a quiet beige and white sanitized room. I could barely hear movement and muffled conversations beyond the door. My memory came back slowly. Obviously, I survived. I moved my arm and leg, and the numbness was gone. That was a good sign. I tried to sit up and decided it really wasn't worth the effort. Still a bit weak. I closed my eyes again and was soon fast asleep.

"Mr. Tomlinson... Mr. Tomlinson?" A woman's voice woke me from my sleep. "Good morning, Mr. Tomlinson," she added when my eyes opened. It was a nurse, dressed in a blue set of smocks. "You're in St. Vincent's. You experienced a sudden cardiac arrest." No shit, I thought. Even the naked lady on the beach knew that. "Dr. Heller wanted me to wake you up before he began his rounds." She checked an IV bag that was attached to my arm. "Would you like to sit up?"

"Yes." I said a bit hoarsely. I was feeling a bit vulnerable fully on my back. She adjusted the bed a bit and then helped me raise my shoulders.

"I'll get you some fresh water." She grabbed a pitcher that was next to the bed and headed out the door. At least I had a private room. The walls seemed thick enough so I didn't feel crushed by the number of people that were obviously in the building. All in all, it could have been a lot worse.

She returned with a full pitcher and a cup with a built-in lid and straw. It looked a little juvenile, but I was pretty thirsty. She filled the cup and place it in my hand. For a second there, I thought she was going to hold the cup to my lips so I kind of fumbled the handoff. Good thing it had a lid. I took a few sips and relieved my dry throat.

"Do you have any questions?" She looked at me quizzically. I wasn't sure what to ask. I felt kind of like I had to ask something.

"Yes! How did I get here?" It was simple enough and showed I wasn't completely without my wits.

"I wasn't here last night, but I understand you were brought in by helicopter." She said pointing to the roof. "You were very lucky. I understand you flat-lined in transit, but the paramedics were able to revive you. Dr. Heller will have to explain the treatment you received once you arrived. He should be here in a few minutes." Fuck, I died in a helicopter. As if on cue, the doctor wearing the same color smocks as the nurse walked in with a clipboard.

"Good morning Mr. Tomlinson." This was getting a bit repetitive. "It's good to see you awake." I felt the need to respond.

"Good morning." I said. A lot of my hoarseness was gone.

"I'm Dr. Heller, and I was the attending physician when you came in last night." He looked up from the clipboard. "You had a very close call. Luckily you had some good first aid." He went over to a terminal on the wall that was wired to a clip on my left finger. After playing with the settings a bit he returned his face to mine again. "We were unable to locate a next of kin so I had to accept that Monica..." he looked at his clipboard "Rose was acting in your interest."

"Yes, she always does." I said carefully.

"You were stung on the foot by a jellyfish." He was looking at me closely. "You had a rather strong allergic reaction and your heart stopped. Usually these things are just uncomfortable, but reactions like yours are not completely uncommon."

"I don't remember going in the water." I tried hard to think back.

"Actually, the animal can remain quite potent a few days after death. You could have just step on one on the beach." He leaned over the bed and disconnected the clip on my finger. I remembered the sting when I was adjusting that damn umbrella.

"Are there any lasting effects?" I wiggled my toes again to make sure they were still working right.

"No." He chuckled. "At least not normally. Some Benadryl for the symptoms. The toxin flushes itself out in a few days. Believe it or not, we're only going to keep you overnight. Once we make sure you won't relapse, we'll release you." He was pretty cheerful sounding. "You should be able to continue on with your life as normal, but I would recommend you see a cardiologist in a week so just to make sure there is no permanent damage." Wow, drive-through medicine.

"Thanks, Doctor." I wasn't sure if there was a protocol for what to say to someone who saved your life. I was afraid to add any embellishments that might sound fake. He just patted my on the shoulder.

"I'll see you before you leave tomorrow." He walked out to continue his rounds.

"Monica Rose is waiting outside to see you. Do you feel up to a visitor?" The nurse smiled like it was a good thing. I wasn't excited about seeing her in my weakened state, but I am sure she was instrumental in my survival.

"Yes, of course." I tried to smile because I felt the nurse expected me too. I hated dealing with people. Everything felt uncomfortable. Good thing I was going home tomorrow. She opened the door and waved Monica in on her way out.

"I understand you're going home tomorrow." Monica didn't say hello. God she was easy to talk to.

"Yes. I guess I have you to thank for the helicopter and private room." I almost died. I have to thank someone or they might just let me go next time.

"Actually, it is Mia Perez you need to thank. You will get the bill for my services." She wasn't smiling just all business

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