Spring break can get pretty wild down in Florida. I lived there a decade ago when I was a single 20-something. And even after I was no longer a coed, I had no problem with taking advantage of the colorful nightlife and the abundance of hot guys and girls. But there was one college chick in particular with whom I ended up having a pretty intense fling, and the memory of her was permanently seared into my brain.

Her name was Anita. She was Cuban and Italian and had all the best features her Latin and Mediterranean genes had to offer. Her lips were built for kissing — so pillowy and plump! And I loved her thick hips and thighs, not to mention her large brown nipples. We spent most of our nights dancing together and then working on our horizontal boogie. And afterward, we’d lie in bed with cold drinks, listening to the ocean and talking about our dreams until we fell asleep. Sounds clichéd, I know. But it was perfect.

I’d hoped we could get together again that summer, but she was busy with school — and shortly afterward, I met the man I eventually married. So things petered out between us. There was no drama; we just kind of lost touch. As far as I was concerned, Anita was destined to remain a very hot memory from my wild past.

But ten years after I’d last spoken to Anita, I found myself in the Miami Beach area on a spur of the moment vacation. I hadn’t been back to the place since my wedding. After our nuptials, we’d immediately moved to New York. Naturally, as soon as I decided I was headed to the Sunshine State, my mind drifted back in time — and I wasn’t dreaming about my now ex-husband. Instead, I thought of Anita and all of our wild, frisky girl fun.

Before I left New York, some of my girlfriends encouraged me to put some dating apps on my phone and let my hair down. I relented about the apps, but I wasn’t sure if I was in the mood to shoot for a hookup.

But once I stepped off the plane in Florida, I felt invigorated. I wish someone could bottle that distinctive smell of sunshine. 

My hotel was beachside, so I was totally looking forward to some sun and surf. I mean, what better way is there to decompress after a long winter and a divorce.

But first, I hit the spa for a mani-pedi and a massage, which is when my trip took an interesting turn. After my massage, I was in the locker room and just about ready to depart when the door opened. I didn’t think anything of it and finished brushing out my hair. I zipped up my bag and turned to leave, and that’s when I caught a glimpse of a woman walking by in the adjacent mirror. It was Anita — or maybe it was someone who looked just like her — but before I could really say anything, she disappeared into the sauna. I hesitated and thought about trying to peek. But then the spa attendant came in to collect the discarded robes and towels, and I didn’t want to raise eyebrows, so I left.

Being familiar with several great restaurants in the area, I decided to treat myself to a nice dinner at one of my old favorites. While I waited for my meal, I figured some app swiping couldn’t hurt. Yet, it dawned on me that I didn’t feel like checking out men. I was nervous but excited as I switched to women seeking women.

Sure, there was the usual plethora of ladies only seeking a third for their men, as well as some blatantly fake profiles. But then I saw, with absolute certainty, the face of my long-lost Anita. And I must’ve looked completely gob smacked, too, because the waiter came over and asked if I needed anything. I just shook my head, unable to look away from my phone as I flipped through her photos. Wow. My heart fluttered as I swiped right, hoping we’d match and be able to talk.

In less than a minute, my phone dinged. She’d written: “Is it really you?”

“Yes,” I replied. “I thought I saw you go into the sauna today at the spa, but figured it was only wishful thinking.”

“Wait, you were at the same spa as me this afternoon?!”

In short order, we made arrangements to get together that evening. Needless to say, I quickly paid my tab and rushed back to my hotel’s bar to meet her. We laughed and embraced as if no time had passed. Anita had enjoyed Miami Beach so much as a springtime visitor she decided to move there permanently, but more importantly, she was single and available.

“I got married, but that blew up pretty quickly,” she told me. “What about you?”

“Ten years in the trenches, and then he had a midlife crisis,” I told her as I shrugged.

“I’m sorry,” Anita said with feeling as she touched my arm.

“I’m not.” I squeezed her hand. “I think I’m right where I’m supposed to be, actually. Right now.”

“You really mean that? Then I guess I should ask: My place or yours?”

We left the bar holding hands and barely managed to contain ourselves in the elevator on the way to my room. Once we were alone, she pushed me against the wall and we kissed. She made me feel like the most desirable woman on the planet.

We groped each other’s breasts, and I gave hers a squeeze as I said, “You don’t know how often I’ve masturbated to my memories of these.”

Anita smiled seductively and unzipped her dress, presenting me with a white lace bra that barely contained her naturally full breasts.

“Go on,” she said, shimmying her boobs. “They’re all yours.”

I wasted no time unhooking her bra and taking her big nipples in my mouth, one at a time, and tracing her generous areolas with my tongue.

“It’s been too long,” Anita moaned, putting her hands on my backside.

“You still have a perky little ass, Kristen.” She gave me a swat. “Did that ex ever pay attention to it?”

“Not like you. No one could ever compare.”

I felt her unzip my skirt and loop her fingers around my thong.

“Come on.” She tugged down my skirt and undies and immediately led me to the bed.

We kissed some more, and once she relieved me of my linen blouse and bra, I luxuriated in the sensation of our soft skin and breasts meeting once again. Her hand quickly found its way to my clit, and in mere moments, I was rocketing to heaven as she stroked my pussy and kissed my neck. I hadn’t been that wet — or that turned on — well, since the last time I’d been with her years ago!

“I want to eat you up, Kris,” Anita whispered hotly, “including that sweet ass.”

“I want you, too. I can’t believe it’s been so long.”

“Sssh, let’s just focus on now,” Anita said, kissing her way down my body.

She flipped me over and dove right in, lavishing my ass with wet kisses as she kept teasing my clit.

“Oh my God!” I moaned into the pillow.

I then felt her tongue descend on my sensitive rosebud while her fingers entered my cunt.

“Mmm, you taste so good,” she murmured against my ass-flesh.

Anita gave my left butt cheek a playful slap with her free hand and finger-fucked my pussy hard. She knew just where to touch me, and once she found my G-spot, I shivered with pleasure. I came shortly thereafter, and as I collapsed in orgasm, Anita squeezed my bottom and caressed my back.

I turned around and told my smirking gal, “Don’t look too smug. We aren’t done yet.”

“Thank goodness,” Anita said with a lusty smile before kissing me.

Then I took charge, telling her, “Sit on my face.”

She obliged and turned around, so we were in a 69 position. Her thick thighs opened up like a book, revealing her slick interior. I made a beeline for her clit with my tongue.

“Oh fuck! Yes!” Anita moaned as she mashed her pussy against my face. I loved being enveloped by the warm heat and smell of her arousal.

I took her clit between my thumb and forefinger and made a plucking motion, causing her to moan loudly again. Then I jammed the fingers of my free hand into her pussy while my tongue teased her asshole.

She was as tight and delicious as she was at 19 — not to mention equally insatiable. Anita leaned into my touch, wriggling and pumping herself faster in time with my motions. Meanwhile, she kept her own fingers and tongue busy at my slit. Before I knew it, not only was Anita coming, but I was climaxing all over again as well.

We rolled over in a sweaty heap and kissed, and I played with her nipples again while she ran her hands through my hair.

When I felt rested enough for a second round, I got up and retrieved a strap-on from my suitcase. Having loaded the dating apps, I’d also packed the toy, just in case.

“You’re a regular girl scout — ready for anything,” she joked before stifling my attempt to reply with a passionate smooch.

We ended up making love all night — with and without the toy — and managed to even miss breakfast!

But our second spring break together ended differently than our first. This time, neither of us was willing to let the other go. Two months later, we’re still going strong. I moved back to South Florida and finally found my happy ending.