You search and you search. Suffering through endless dates with women who expound about the intelligence of their cat or the evils of their ex as you smile and nod pleasantly while secretly hoping the waiter will stumble and pierce her jugular with a fork. Then one day, when you least expect it, sitting by a pool on your solitary vacation, you meet her. She’s bright and beautiful, confident in an almost arrogant way with a sexual undertow that threatens to pull you out to sea. Before you can muster the nerve to ask her back to your room she askes you up to her suite. Her passion is astounding and she sweeps you up, taking control of the love making. After the shock of her rather large revelation fades away, you allow her to plunge onward. And she plunges and plunges and plunges, joyfully driving you both through twists and turns of sexual acrobatics that would make a porn star sigh in weariness.
In the end, you lay together spread eagle on the king-sized bed, catching your breath. The sunset over the ocean has stolen into the room to paint the walls in colors of rose and orange, and your afternoon of debauchery is drawing to a close. Her hand finds its way to your thigh and with an urgent squeeze she alerts you to her growing interest in having you spend the night. With a delighted smile you roll into her arms, knowing you have finally found true happiness.