IR Day 18 - Part 7

“Do you have everything?” you ask Ingrid, trying not to be weird about how beautiful she looks. Because your meeting with Michelle was so long, you texted Ingrid to get what you needed for the beach. She didn’t seem to mind.

Now she’s wearing the cutest beach dress with a sun hat and carrying a huge tote when she meets you at East Tampa Beach, which is crowded but survivable. Ingrid is glowing more brightly than the sun, and it must be because this is the first holiday-ish thing she’s done since coming to this crazy country for this crazy camp. Tampa must be kind of different from Sweden. But like, how different can it be?

You don’t care. She looks so incredible that all other thoughts stop mattering. She’s looking to you to lead, so you take her hand and claim an umbrella on the hot sand. Ingrid must have enjoyed preparing for this outing, because she has thought of everything. She has a little soft cooler and snacks, lotion, towels, and even flip-flops for you. She hands you a bag from Nordstrom.

You don’t think about it, you just thank her and head for the changing rooms. There, you discover something a little troubling. She’s bought you an olive-green bikini. It’s nothing crazy, although the side ties are a bit sexy. It has a textured finish that’s cute. It’s a nice suit. You’ll look good in it.

But it’s just the bikini and flip-flops. There’s no wrap to go with it. Nowhere to hide.

Well… you don’t care. You do. You care. Just not enough to risk hurting Ingrid’s feelings. So you put it on and head back out, hoping that some Karen won’t flip out over you flaunting your bulge in front of her kids.

Back at the umbrella, you find Ingrid with her coverup off. Her blue bikini is even less daring than yours, but with a body like hers that doesn’t matter. If people don’t mind your bulge, they will definitely mind a huge erection sticking out of your suit, you have to keep your cool. You chug a box of coconut water and think about math, then kiss Ingrid hard on the lips. As much as you’d like to settle down under the umbrella and just drink in her company, she’s going to roast out here if she doesn’t get some lotion on.

She understands that, but you have to do her back. It’s not that you mind, you’re just trying to be classy in front of all of these people. You just have to hope that they aren’t paying attention to the redness on your face or your look of conversation as you hold your hunched-over, boner-hiding posture on your knees in the shade, rubbing lotion into Ingrid’s smooth, warm skin.