Jon Story

I walked onto the sand between the 2 and looked to my right. Sitting there
were 2 European tourists. Their fat, hairy bodies were bright white from
the continental winter. To my left was an angel.
Her long dark, curly hair complimented her rich, brown skin. She wore a
black string bikini, which only served to highlight the perfect proportions
and curves of her body. This couldn't be Marisa. This couldn't be the girl
I was supposed to meet. She was too beautiful to be anything but the lover
of some aging tycoon. She was too perfect to be waiting for some sailor to
pick her up.

But still, she turned toward me, and smiled a smile from heaven. Her
beautiful lips parted and revealed sparkling white teeth. "Jon?" she asked,
loud enough to be heard over the sounds of the seashore. I nodded,
dumbstruck, and she gestured me over. "I'm Marisa. Please, sit down."
Her voice was musical, her demeanor charming. I was simply captivated.
Marisa radiated charm, and poise and intelligence. If there was such a
thing as the perfect human being, I just met her. Her! I couldn't believe
that this vision before me was anything less than a natural woman. There
was just no way! And right then I decided that no matter what was between
her legs, I could sit here all day and talk to her.

Marisa was confident and outgoing, laughing sweetly at my nervous jokes,
and generally setting me at ease in very short course. She asked me what it
was like to grow up in the Rocky Mountains, yet spend my adult life on the
ocean, and was genuinely interested in what I had to say.
She told me about her life in Brazil, growing up in an upper middle class
family, having the opportunity to learn English, and travel to the U.S. At
age 15, Marisa announced to her family that she didn't want to be a boy any
longer. (Aha! So, the truth surfaces, I thought.) Her father was very
supportive, but her mother freaked out, and left, taking Marisa's 2 younger
brothers.