Swimsuit - Sex on the Beach

Stephen stared at the remains of his beer, the foam clinging to the bottom of his glass. Slowly, he watched each bubble pop, listening to the quiet murmur of the bar around him. He could hear young couples talking, cheerful music playing, and the clinking of glasses as everyone seemed to be enjoying their time on the island, except him.

Fresh out of a breakup, Stephen had booked the solo holiday for cheap. He had told himself that it was a chance to show how he could survive being single and still have a life outside of the relationship, but in truth he knew that he was desperate to do anything to ignore his loneliness. He had imagined long walks on beaches with scantily clad women and exotic drinks on speedboats, but now that he was sinking into his last evening before his morning flight, he had achieved none of his aspirations. Unsure of himself, Stephen had ended up going on enjoyable but lonely walks across the sun-kissed paradise, and had spent far too long in his hotel room, staring at his phone. He looked out across the bar at the ocean. Small waves were quietly lapping against the shoreline. Soon, the sun would dip below the horizon and with it, it would remind him that his holiday was wasted.

A small chorus of cheers dragged him out of his self-pity. One of the bar staff had just placed a small blackboard on the counter, the words ‘Happy Hour – Half Price Cocktails!’ written in bright pink chalk. Stephen rolled his eyes, thinking it just another ploy to milk his fellow tourists for all they were worth. He could see several people now milling around the bar, prompted by the discount: couples with their hands interlaced, buying each other drinks. Stephen felt a pang of jealousy and pulled out his phone, beginning to scroll through social media to distract him.

As much as he wanted to focus on the endlessly scrolling timelines, whatever app he looked at only cemented his loneliness. There were people looking happier, healthier than he was, or enjoying holidays far more than he could have ever hoped. After the monotony of one endlessly happy post after another became too much, Stephen put the phone down on the table with a sigh. The crowd around the bar had parted, and the bartender was staring at him, a smile on her face.

Stephen looked away, sheepishly. He had ordered drinks from her several times over the course of his uneventful holiday, but he had never properly interacted with her. At most, she had politely taken his same drinks order and moved along. Stephen dared another look to find that the woman was still staring, a small smile creeping to her face. Rolling his eyes, Stephen stood up, heading over to the bar where his fellow patrons had now gone back to their seats.

“You okay there?” the woman asked before he could speak.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Why?” Stephen replied with more curtness than he had intended. Luckily, the woman didn’t seem to notice, tucking her dark hair behind her ear with a chuckle.

“You look like you need a drink, that’s all”, she said, taking some empty glasses off of the counter.

“You’re meant to say that – that’s your job”, Stephen scoffed.

“Come on now”, she said, smirking. “That’s not the attitude we want here. Don’t you know it’s Happy Hour?” The woman gestured over towards the blackboard with an ironically dramatic flair.

“I don’t really like cocktails”, Stephen said, about to turn back to his table.

“Why not?” she asked.

“They’re a girl’s drink. I prefer beer”, Stephen said smugly. The woman kissed her teeth.

“We hear that a lot here. I think you’ve just not tried the right one”. The woman leaned closer to Stephen, the mischievous smile on her lips growing wider. “What have you got to lose?”

“Fine”, Stephen said, resignedly. “What would you recommend?” The woman pointed up at the menu above her head where all manner of exotically named cocktails were advertised, with high alcohol content but low prices.

“They’re all good! Which sounds the most interesting for you?”

Stephen scanned over the list. Some of the names were bad puns, others were likely references that he didn’t quite get. Eventually, he found one.

“How about a Sex on the Beach? That looks simple enough”, Stephen said, pointing up at the drink.

“Good choice”, she said, beginning to fill up a large glass with ice cubes. “Is that what you’re hoping to get out of your holiday?” she added teasingly. Stephen sighed. It was bad enough that his holiday hadn’t been what he wanted – he didn’t want to get mocked for it on his last night as well. The woman continued to assemble Stephen’s drink, her hands a blur of expertise. Stephen could only imagine how many hundreds of drinks she had served tourists like himself, and thought that the menu must be like second nature to her. She tossed a bottle of vodka over her shoulder, catching it with a grin just before it smashed onto the countertop and drawing some approving claps from around the bar. She quickly unscrewed the cap, pouring the clear liquid into the glass where the ice began to crack and hiss. Another bottle appeared of peach schnapps, and she poured in a small measure. Already, this was far more flavour than Stephen was used to with his muted, weak beers, and he began to worry about the end result. After a dash from a carton of orange juice was poured into the glass, the woman produced some cranberry juice, pouring it over the brightly coloured drink. Stephen watched as the ice cubes bobbed to the surface and the cranberry juice sunk down towards the bottle of the glass. It was a rich palette of bright reds to pale oranges, the entire hue of a sunset caught in a glass.

“Almost done!” she said, deftly slicing an orange and fitting it over the rim of the glass as a garnish. Finally, she grabbed a tiny cocktail umbrella, twirling it around her small fingers with a flourish, and stuck it into one of the ice cubes so that it rested lazily against the side of the glass. “There!” she said, pushing the drink towards Stephen. “Drink up!”

The man lifted the glass towards his mouth, and already he could smell the rich mixture of fruits and spirits. Tentatively, he took a sip.

Stephen hadn’t realised what he had been missing. In comparison to his murky beer from earlier, the drink was an explosion of flavour. Potent citrus notes were interplaying with the other fruits, all undercut by the vodka that gave the drink an alcoholic edge, sealing the flavours together into a delectable combination.

“Oh wow…” he said quietly.

“Do you like it?” the woman said, already knowing his response. “I knew you would!”

“It’s great!” he said, smiling, some of the drink clinging to his upper lip.

“Perfect! I’ve got to serve some other people, but I’ll swing by in a bit and see how you’ve turned out!” the woman said with a beaming smile, heading off to the other side of the bar and leaving Stephen alone, but happy.

Stephen continued drinking. Instead of the greedy gulps of his earlier beer, he was sipping contentedly, enjoying the flavours as they played around his mouth.

The fabric in Stephen’s shorts began to compress down. He had bought the dark pair of shorts with the intention of going swimming but had barely touched the water during his holiday. As he continued to drink, the fabric changed into a slick black, almost shimmering in the soft light of the bar. It was tight and elastic across his body, looking more like a pair of high waisted speedos than the shorts they had been earlier. Stephen took no notice, enjoying his drink.

The drink tasted better the more he sipped at it, enjoying the bar’s atmosphere. Earlier, it had been a place of hostility, but now he was beginning to understand that it was truly a place to relax. The drink sent tingles throughout his hair, and absent-mindedly he scratched at his scalp. Long locks of blonde hair were sprouting out, soon taking over his short dark hair with a vibrant bounce. The hair grew longer, only stopping once it was tickling at his exposed back, bright and healthy. A smile was slowly creeping to Stephen’s face.

Across his body, his skin began to soften. The coarse hair that had once built up across his flesh was fading, receding back inside of his body and leaving his skin smooth. The air seemed slightly more humid as Stephen’s sensitivity increased. The blemishes and old scars disappeared, leaving his skin delicate. His new speedos felt strangely pleasurable as his skin rubbed against the soft fabric.

Unaware of the changes, Stephen drummed his fingertips on the side of the glass in time with the music that was growing catchier by the second. Soon, the dull drumming was replaced by a soft clinking as Stephen’s nails grew longer, a subtle gloss now covering each. His toenails matched in shine, picking up the lights that buzzed overhead. Stephen took another delighted sip of the drink, and the glass felt oddly clumsy in his hands, the man now requiring both to steady the cocktail. The bones in his hands had painlessly reformed, slimming down and leaving his hands far smaller than when he took his first sip. With a slight curl of his toes, Stephen’s feet followed suit, shrinking his shoe size down until they were dainty. The hard skin around his sole faded, the man now properly able to feel the wooden flooring beneath him, vibrating softly with the music.

He found himself swaying back and forth in time. With each subtle movement, his shoulders grew thinner and thinner. Soon, the broad shoulders that he had had once were gone. With a painless crack that was lost amongst the sounds of the bar, Stephen’s whole torso compressed to match the rest of his rapidly reducing form. While across his body he was generally growing smaller and thinner, in his hips the opposite occurred. As he shifted weight from one leg to another, his hips blossomed outwards, the speedos stretching. It was growing harder to tell that he was a man, especially from behind with his long hair and wide, almost childbearing hips. While Stephen hadn’t noticed his own change, some of the bar’s patrons were beginning to watch his body with interest.

The fabric of the speedo began to shift further, its elastic stretching out as if it had a mind of its own. Just when it looked as thought it was about to snap, the fabric pushed further, sliding up over his shrunken waist. Like a black, slick oil, it crept over his smooth skin, climbing up inch by inch as Stephen drank. Soon, it was just below his nipples. It continued climbing up over his chest, the fabric growing thicker, more supportive. Stephen couldn’t help but let out a quiet moan as he took another gulp. The drink was growing sweeter with every sip, his head tingling. Two long dark tendrils emerged from the sides of the fabric, crawling up over his shoulders. They moved down his back, seamlessly connecting with the rest of the fabric, making it one continuous garment. Stephen’s shorts were no more – now transformed into a woman’s one-piece swimsuit.

After a larger mouthful of the cocktail than he intended, Stephen licked at his lips. From where his tongue touched, new changes began to spread. His lips grew poutier, a layer of subtle lipstick now enhancing their natural brightness. His jawline shrunk down, losing its masculine squareness. His chin elongated, his cheekbones following suit to give his whole head a more rounded, more feminine shape. Once, his nose was wide, slightly off centre. Now, Stephen smiled his new wider smile as it shrunk down and thinned, recentring in the middle of his freshly symmetrical face. Long eyelashes sprouted, making his large eyes all the more noticeable, with a hint of mascara appearing to finish the job. Some subdued foundation grew across his face, giving his almost perfect skin a smooth, glowing texture. Stephen’s face was that of a young, beautiful woman, clearly enjoying her cocktail that was now mostly drunk.

Stephen drank greedily, not caring who was watching. The drink was all he could focus on, how the fruit flavours felt as though they were coursing through his entire body. The fat across his body was beginning to reform. His nipples beneath the swimsuit grew erect, pressing sensitively against the fabric. Beneath them, two mounds began to form, soft pliable breasts that grew larger and larger. Soon, they were straining the swimsuit as far as it could go, giving him a deep cleavage that begged to be looked at. Fat slid away from his stomach, crawling down over his hips. His thighs grew fatter and fatter, thick and powerful, jiggling slightly as he moved. The swimsuit slid up his body as more fat built, swelling his rear to massive proportions. His legs quickly tapered down beneath his thighs, but Stephen was now undeniably curvy.

There was only a remnant of the drink now left in the glass, and Stephen upended it, pouring the last of the delicious drink into his mouth, swallowing eagerly. Straining up against the tight swimsuit, Stephen’s manhood began to drink down. He lost inch after inch, the fabric reforming around it to ensure its skin-tight purchase on his body. With an unintentional, high pitch gasp, Stephen’s manhood vanished, changing into a clitoris as his testes slid up inside of him, forming a vagina.

“Did you enjoy that, Steph?” the woman at the bar said, coming back around to the person that had just finished their drink. “You certainly finished it quicker than I expected.”

“Delicious!” Steph said genuinely, her voice having shot up several octaves. It was smooth and confident, already feeling some of the buzz from the drink.

“Good to hear!” the barwoman said with a smile. “You know, I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but I’m really feeling this look you’ve got going on!”

“Really?” Steph said incredulously, looking down at their body, confused.

“For sure!” the other woman said, taking back the glass. Steph took a moment to examine herself more closely. Something felt off, but she couldn’t place what. Her body was the one she always remembered – her long hair, tumbling down either side of her breasts, supported by the swimsuit. She looked further down to see her familiar hips. Still, something felt strange, as if she had forgotten something.

“Are you going to head to the beach later in that swimsuit?” the barwoman prompted. Steph sudden remembered – the swimsuit! That was it. She had packed it for the holiday but never found a chance to wear it. She had been too nervous, but now on her last night, she thought that she had nothing to lose.

It made her feel strangely confident, despite feeling almost naked without any underwear. Her body was almost entirely on display, the tight fabric clinging to every one of her curves. But, she didn’t feel exposed. It filled her with a sense of confidence she never knew she had possessed. As she adjusted one of the straps, her bosom shifting, she made a mental note to try wear more in the future – she had never felt so sexy.

“You know, I think that other tourist, Marco, has been eyeing you up all night”, the woman said, pointing subtly to the young man that sat in the corner of the bar, quickly looking at his phone the moment he realised both women were watching him. “You should go and speak to him. Maybe let that cocktail live up to its name?” she said, smirking. Steph giggled.

“How much for the drink?” she asked.

“On the house!” the barwoman said. “I think you deserve to cut loose a little!”

Steph walked over to Marco, relishing that every man was staring at her swimsuit clad body with each slow step she made.

Not long later, the two were walking along the beach. Many steps back, their fingers had brushed, the pair soon nervously holding hands.

“I’m so glad I bumped into you, Steph”, Marco said, turning to her and taking hold of her other hand. Steph could feel her chest flutter with nervous excitement as she looked up at the man.

“Me too! I was worried I would have wasted my holiday if I didn’t have the chance to, you know-“

“Relax a little?” Marco said, leaning in closer. Steph barely had time to smile before his lips brushed against hers, the woman sighing softly as they parted, their tongues playing around each other. The nervousness from earlier disappeared, along with the sense that she had forgotten something. As far as Steph could remember, this is what she had always known, and what she had always wanted. She felt Marco’s strong hands move to her waist, bringing her body closer to his. She wanted to be taken control of, utterly under the spell of the man. She could feel her nipples aching with pleasure, rubbing against the suit that was pressed tight against the man. She wanted him, more than anything.

Steph fell to her knees, sinking into the wet sand a little. She was able to see the bulge that had formed in Marco’s shorts. The man looked over his shoulder nervously, making sure the pair were out of sight of the beachfront bar. “I didn’t expect you to be so eager”, he said smugly, Steph’s hands pulling down his waistband with a devilish smile.

“My flight leaves in the morning, Marco. I’m making sure I get out this holiday exactly what I want”, Steph said, taking hold of his manhood with a soft, delicate grip. She began to work at it, Marco’s pleasured moans driving her own arousal further. Underneath the swimsuit, she could feel her vagina growing wet. The swimsuit clung tight, giving her a slight camel toe, but Steph didn’t care. Right now, there was something far more important to her.

Tentatively, she took the head of Marco’s manhood in her mouth, swirling her tongue around it. The cocktail earlier had tasted divine, but this was a whole new type of taste, and one she knew she could never get enough of. Soon, she was sucking his manhood with vigour, her own hands teasing and squeezing at her body as it tingled within the swimsuit. She felt Marco pull out, wet saliva dripping from his shaft. She looked up at him, knowing what she wanted.

“Put it in me, Marco”, she said with a grin. Steph lay on her back, spreading her legs. She could feel the last of the sun’s ray’s shining across her. Marco moved the swimsuit to one side of her womanhood and entered.

After the first thrust, Steph knew that she needed more. As he continued, she cooed softly, wrapping her legs around his back, forcing him deeper and deeper into her. Marco’s stamina surprised even her, each thrust eliciting a moan from the woman. She clutched at her breasts as they bounced, the pair digging a small rut in the sand as they made love. Later, as the sun touched the horizon, Steph could feel her whole body tense. An energy had been building, and it had reached a boiling point. She screamed out his name, her toes curling blissfully as the orgasm rocked through her. A half second later, she could feel his hot spray inside of her. Marco sunk down in the sand beside her, but Steph wasn’t there for long, pulling the swimsuit back to cover her womanhood and standing up.

“Where are you going?” Marco called after her, Steph’s feet already touching salty water that lapped at the beach.

“Don’t you want to come for a swim?” Steph said, turning over her shoulder to see her lover, lying on the sand, his face in a blissful repose. “I think I might delay my flight”, she said earnestly. “This holiday just got a lot more interesting, and I want to try everything!”

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A commission for mermaidLea, and lots of fun to write! I hope you enjoy reading it.

I've changed around my writing schedule so hopefully I'll be able to keep up this rate of a story a week for you for longer!