She recalled the first time they’d fucked, and the slow, almost painful lead up to it. The walk on the beach, hands accidentally touching. The stories he’d shared with her about his deepest dreams and desires. How they’d settled on a blanket and merely read next to one another for hours before he’d teased her, pinching her side and making her laugh. She’d retaliated in kind, and it had become a pointless wrestling match. The kind that both parties knew would lead to beach fucking, though neither would come out and say it.