Brighton shingle crunching beneath toes, ice cream melting, deckchairs flapping in a sudden wind. Seaside holidays populated Vince’s memory of childhood.
This holiday was different, illicit, thrilling. Away from her family, he would finally lie with Ayesha. The one bed in their apartment offered a shocking promise.
Her transformation created the real shock. She entered the bathroom wearing hijab and enveloping abaya, and emerged in a wraparound floral skirt, her nipples visible against the T-shirt. She was beautiful.
“Don’t you feel undressed, without your normal clothes?” he asked.
“Those aren’t my clothes,” she laughed. “That’s my sexual Chemical-Biological Warfare suit.”
Friday fictioneers is a weekly challenge to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here