Chapter 1 — Chapter 1

I turned forty-five and was an ordinary woman with a very ordinary life. Work, home, family. My only solace was my son, who was almost an adult. He was twenty-two and finishing his degree in finance, after which he was set to work abroad. My husband had left me a few years ago, seduced by some floozy. I heard they even had a child together. My son didn't accept his brother and completely distanced himself from his father, forbidding me to take any money from him. I didn't take any, working two jobs, and my boy also worked part-time, and we managed to get by.

Were there men in my life? There were suitors, but I didn't want to remarry, only occasionally meeting admirers for the sake of my health. I must say, for my age, I looked quite good—a thick braid of wheat-colored hair, ample breasts and hips, a wasp waist, and long legs. I also had a beautiful face, which my ex-husband called "peasant," so I never felt short of attention.

At one point, my son gifted me a trip to Anapa, which almost led to a fight between us. We had been saving for his education for five years, and he was supposed to go himself, but he refused. He justified it by saying he was going to work in Barcelona, where he could also rest, and that I deserved some peace. After thinking it over, I agreed, especially since everything was already paid for.

I was looking forward to two weeks by the sea, my last memories of which dated back to when my child was five years old. After that, it became too busy, too expensive, and so on. After wrapping up my affairs and arranging things at work, I packed a small suitcase with a pile of clothes and a couple of new swimsuits, a beautiful towel, and a makeup bag. The latter was a gift from my best friend, who saw me off at the airport. Kissing me on the cheek, she urged me not to hold back my instincts and to let loose completely. I promised her...

***

One of my secrets was that I wrote stories under a pseudonym on a popular website. I couldn't handle novels, but short stories of various themes became my forte. I bought myself a cute netbook and took it with me on vacation, where inspiration struck me so suddenly that I had to jot everything down in a notebook or even sketch the faces of new characters. While we were flying, I managed to draft a short novella about elves and, smiling contentedly, closed the finished work just before landing.

Anapa greeted me with bright, hot sunshine. At the airport, a hotel employee was waiting for us, helping me and a few other women with children load into a minibus. The hotel itself turned out to be large and was located right on the seashore. My son paid for a bunch of spa treatments and three meals a day, and my room was a single. After unpacking my bag, I put on a swimsuit and a hat, threw a silk tunic over it, grabbed some cream and towels, and then headed to the sea.

Dropping my things on an available lounger, I immediately went to the water. Its warm and tender embrace soothed me, and I swam further from the shore and floated on my back, feeling joy and peace. Someone swam by and slowed down next to me, snorting loudly, and a voice asked:

"Will you get sunburned?"

"No, I put on cream ahead of time. Thanks for your concern," I replied and, without even glancing at the speaker, headed back to the shore. When I stepped onto the hot sand, I stretched out on my lounger. No sooner had I done this than I heard an unfamiliar voice next to me, clearly addressing me:

"Dinner's soon. May I join you?"

Looking at the speaker, I grimaced slightly. "A fat belly and crooked legs - wow! And, of course, a gold chain as thick as a finger and a hooked nose," I thought to myself and turned away.

"Thanks, but I'm not interested."

The man lingered for a moment but then left.

I lay there until evening, swimming a few more times, then calmly returned to my room, changed, and went for a walk, taking a warm sweater and a bag with me. I had dinner at a cafe, then walked along the main promenade and settled on a bench to watch the beautiful sunset. Someone sat down next to me, but I paid no attention, as I was visited by the muse and was shaping a new story that came with the light of the setting sun. Pulling out my notebook, I sketched strange aquatic creatures and noted the main points of the future text. After drawing a bit more, I got up and returned to the hotel, where I went out to the balcony and sat at a table, setting my netbook, a glass of wine, and a fruit salad I had bought at the cafe in front of me. "Mmm... Beautiful," I thought blissfully, taking in the view. The wind caressed my face and played with my hair, bringing the scent of the sea, and I sipped a bit and started on my new story. Quickly writing a draft that turned out to be eight chapters long, I decided to edit it soberly later and upload it online. Sipping my second glass, I admired the sea shimmering with reflections and decided to go on a boat tour in the morning. When it got completely dark, I went back to my room and changed into my sleepwear, then just browsed websites, looking at new books and listening to soft music.

"Hello, how's your evening?" a pleasant baritone suddenly asked from somewhere to the side. Sitting up in bed, I tried to find the source of the voice, but then just waved it off.

"If that was meant for me, it's great," I finally replied, deciding to be polite.

"May I join you? Don't think anything of it, just some casual conversation with no hidden meaning," the stranger continued, and I smiled.

"Only for a little while. It's late, and I want to go to the spa and take a boat ride tomorrow."

"Why not? You can always talk, and if anything, I've got a heavy hand," a reassuring thought came to me. Someone knocked, and I threw on a tunic, opened the door, and froze. At first, the blood drained from my face from fright, then rushed back from shock. A huge man stood at the threshold, shifting from foot to foot and looking at me shyly. He held a bottle of wine with an expensive label.

"For some reason, this feels like a bad idea. You look too unexpected," I mumbled, slightly taken aback.

"Yes, you might be right," the stranger's gaze dimmed, and he turned to leave, making me feel embarrassed. I never was good at hurting people, so the next moment I said conciliatorily:

"Is the wine very strong? I don't like strong drinks."

"Only seven percent," he replied cheerfully, turning back and locking eyes with me.

I nodded, inviting him in, then stepped back and headed to the balcony, grabbing glasses and fruit along the way. I put my wine away in the fridge, deciding to finish it the next day. The guest sat down and poured the wine from his bottle, pushing a glass toward me.

"To the sea?" he asked.

"To the sea!" I responded.

We both sat in silence for a while, watching the dark waves splash in the distance.

"I saw you drawing on the promenade today. Are you an artist?" the man suddenly broke the silence.

"No, those are just sketches for my stories. I'm a writer," I replied, not understanding why I so easily shared my secret with him. Perhaps I realized we wouldn't see each other again.

"My name is Michael," the guest introduced himself after a brief pause.

"Alexandra. The name suits you," I smirked slightly, eyeing his imposing figure.

"Yeah, everyone's scared of me," he muttered softly, hunching a bit.

"Sorry for acting that way. I didn't mean to," I apologized, and my companion relaxed a little.

We started talking, and soon we were chatting carefree, sharing impressions and laughing at some jokes, then said goodbye until tomorrow, parting as friends. That night, I fell asleep quickly and dreamlessly, sleeping soundly through the entire night. In the morning, a knock at the door woke me up, and it turned out to be a girl from the reception reminding me that I had a spa treatment in half an hour. Quickly washing up, I finished the fruit salad and went to enjoy myself. They kneaded me, rubbed me, wrapped me, scrubbed me, did a pedicure and manicure, but I declined the hair styling, asking only for a mask and a head massage. Three hours later, I left the salon exhausted but incredibly happy.

"Will you have lunch with me?" a now familiar male voice asked from behind me, and I shuddered, turning around. It was Michael, and I raised my eyebrows slightly, trying not to show my joy at seeing him.

"Weren't we on a first-name basis yesterday?" I clarified.

"Alright, we'll be on a first-name basis today too. So, shall we go?" he smiled.

"Let's go, but I need to stop by my room. I need to change," I smiled back.

Soon, dressed in a light sundress and sandals, I grabbed my hat and bag and left the room. For lunch, we chose seafood and fresh coffee, but I paid for mine, even though Michael tried to beat me to it. Later, we took a short ride on a sea tram, had a delicious barbecue for dinner, and washed it down with wine.

Michael walked me to my room and kissed me, and I, fully aware that he would leave in a couple of days and we would never meet again, returned his kiss. He looked into my eyes and lifted me into his arms, carrying me into the room. His enormous hands caressed and explored my body, and I didn't hold back. Laying me on the bed, Michael continued to kiss me passionately, moving from my neck to my breasts, his hot kisses burning my skin and sending pleasant shivers down my belly. Slipping his hand between my thighs, he gently parted my folds and began to caress me there. I quickly grew wet, and the man spread my legs wider and loomed over me, looking into my eyes. Pulling him closer, I demanded a kiss, and he plunged into my mouth, sucking on my tongue and playing with it, thrusting into me down below at the same time. I moaned softly, and Michael went deeper and stopped. His size matched his body, so I felt discomfort and froze too.

"Sorry, I'm too big for you. I knew this wouldn't work," he sighed disappointedly, burying his face in my hair.

"Nonsense, you're already inside me. If you don't start moving, I'll bite you," I laughed and licked his neck. He growled like a bear, then finally started moving.

"Bite me, I don't mind," he whispered, leaning over me.

But I was too caught up in the moment. The approaching orgasm enveloped me in liquid fire, and the south, the wine, and the handsome man beside me clouded my mind. "Why not an adventure? Maybe even the last one," I thought, but such a thought didn't bring sadness or regret. Michael increased his pace, holding me and offering his throat.

"Bite me," he quietly asked, and I licked him and gently bit his skin. Moaning, the man also bit my neck, and such a powerful orgasm washed over me that I actually saw stars. Gasping from the intense feelings, I bit him for real, like my favorite werewolves who became the heroes of my stories.

A while later, I fell asleep content and securely pressed against his large body.