In the small coastal town of Cannon Beach, lived a woman named Marianne. She was a striking 35-year-old, with fiery red hair that cascaded down to her shoulders, and emerald green eyes that sparkled with mischief. She owned a small bikini shop right on the beachfront, where she sold handmade bikinis to the town’s visitors.
One sunny afternoon, a tall, handsome man named Jack walked into her shop. He was a travel writer, in his late twenties, with tousled brown hair and deep blue eyes that seemed to see right through her. They got to talking, and Jack mentioned that he was writing a piece on the town’s hidden gems. Sensing an opportunity, Marianne offered to show him around, and he eagerly agreed.
As they walked along the beach, Marianne couldn’t help but notice the way Jack’s eyes lingered on her body. She was wearing one of her own bikinis, a tiny triangle of fabric that barely covered her. She had shaved her pubic hair into a small bikini line, a trend she had picked up from some of the younger girls in town.
Later that evening, Marianne invited Jack back to her place for dinner. They sat on her porch, overlooking the ocean, and drank wine as the sun set. As they talked, Marianne could feel the tension between them growing. She knew what she wanted, and she could tell that Jack wanted it too.
They moved inside, to the living room, and Marianne sat down on the couch next to Jack. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his, and he responded eagerly. Their kiss deepened, their tongues exploring each other’s mouths. Marianne could feel Jack’s hands on her body, caressing her breasts and running down her sides.
She stood up, taking Jack’s hand and leading him to her bedroom. She undressed slowly, letting Jack watch as she revealed her body to him. He sucked in a breath as he saw the tiny bikini line that she had shaved for him.
