One Bad Review Destroyed Me
I couldn't recover
Judging by his confident gait, warm smile, and meandering route toward me across the golden beach sands, I knew what was coming. The man had lust written on his face, and I was desperate to avoid it.
I held up my hand when he was a few feet away, and, to my surprise, he paused.
“Hannah, can I talk privately with you, please?”
“I don’t date students, Peter.”
“It’s a dive center; we’re both in our mid-twenties. We’re not talking about a student-teacher college romance here.”
“Come with me, please.”
“Okay, Hannah.”
I walked him off the beach and around the back of a small copse so we would be unseen by other dive center students and my colleagues. It was hot, and we’d just finished unloading the dive boat, so I slipped my skinny neoprene suit’s back zip down enough to get some air.
He stared at me, eyes wide, lust sparkling like fireworks, and his expression giving away the turbo-charged testosterone levels surging through his veins.
“You see a little flesh and dive right in, is that it, Peter?”
“It’s not like that at all, Hannah. I’d love to take you out for dinner.”
“Try one of the other girls… please.”
“I don’t want them.”
“But you want me?”
“Yes.”
“You just want to romance my pussy honey. It happens every couple of weeks with a new student.”
“That’s pretty offensive. I’m not like that, Hannah.”
“Maybe, maybe not, but I just can’t do it. First, I have a boyfriend back home. Second, I don’t sleep around.”