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Created by Diane Brown, Buena Beach is an online soap opera, giving up all the juicy details of some of the hottest guys and gals of Buena Beach, a small town in Southern California. Check back everyday for a new episode here on HelloBeautiful.com.

The Voice

The nice thing about being the resident narrator of this site is that I get to hear firsthand the intimate discussions of the folks in Buena Beach. Beyond that, I’m also a witness to their thoughts, their dreams, and attitudes. Unfortunately, I often get a little too much detail from our friends, like learning that Veronica suffers from irritable bowel syndrome, spending a good amount of her day in the women’s restroom; and that Chris is dealing with an irksome ringworm rash, praying that he can keep it hidden from Jen while, at the same time, not passing it along to her. Usually, I only pass on the most pertinent information to all of you out there.

Like right now, with Danny just getting home from another long day at work. He had managed to take out fifteen minutes during his day, however, to do a little surfing on travel packages to the Caribbean. He was surprised (and partially delighted) that his daughters all had other plans for the evening, leaving him and his wife Annette to dine alone in the privacy of their duvet-covered bed in front of a gargantuan flat-screen television, just like they used to do when they first married (although the television was black and white, and had a much smaller screen). They sit cross-legged, sampling the various goods in the cardboard boxes just delivered from Hong Kong Hideaway, feeding each other with chopsticks.

“Aww, babe. Look at you, spilling all over the bed.”

“You know I’m no good with these things.”

“Then you should use a fork,” Annette smiles, finding a plastic one in the bag for Danny, along with a soy sauce packet that she opens and shakes over her lo mein noodles.”

“There’s enough food here for us stay in bed for a week.”

Annette shakes her head. “Not after the girls get through with it. I’ll pack up a container for you tonight to take to work tomorrow.”

“Thanks, but you better hide it someplace in the refrigerator where they won’t find it.”

“I’ll put it in the produce drawer.”

“Good thinking.”

They eat in silence for a bit as Danny flips through news snippets, sports highlights, and celebrity gossip. “You want dessert?” Annette asks as he polishes off the last of the kung pao shrimp.

“Of course,” he says, hoping she’d purchased pastel de tres leches. But Annette’s idea of dessert this evening was something else altogether, slowly unbuttoning her starched blouse to reveal a shiny red negligee. Danny nearly coughs up a shrimp, not used to his wife being an initiator of anything sexual.

He’s ready to pull her across the bed, upsetting the contents of all the remaining food spread across it. Much more pragmatic about sex, lust, and food, Annette begins clearing away the dishes and boxes, moving them over to the nearby desk. Then, they quickly fall into each other’s embrace, kissing one another deeply and intently. “I love you so much,” Danny pants as he finishes unbuttoning her shirt and helping her take off her slacks. And in one graceful move, he’s able to rid himself of all of his outer clothing. The episode is reminiscent of the lovemaking days of their youth, reckless and uninhibited. Luckily, their lack of contraception these days wouldn’t find them with an unplanned pregnancy as it had years ago, three weeks before their scheduled walk down the aisle.

“Te amo,” Annette nearly screams, anxious to get the party started. Without any fumbling whatsoever, he slips off her thong and moves his body into position. And then suddenly…

“Oh my gosh.”

“What…what’s wrong?”

Danny scoots away, pulling whatever covers he can find up around his lower body. “Nothing.”

“Danny?”

He inhales sharply, almost feeling like tears are forming at the edges of his eyes. “Something happened.”

Annette’s no rocket scientist but it doesn’t even take her half a second to figure out what that ‘something’ was. “Oh. Wow. I’m…I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m the one that’s sorry. That’s…that’s never happened before.”

“I know!” They speak without looking at each other, all four of their eyes glued to the television and HGTV. House Hunters. “What do you think did it?”

Danny had no idea, but knew that he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Perhaps tonight was just a fluke. Maybe it was the Chinese food. MSG? Who knew. He figured it was best to just change the subject, pretend like what had just happened hadn’t. “I have a surprise for you,” he says, waiting five minutes or so to break the silence.

“Yah?” says, Annette, trying her best to feign interest, but still focusing on the television and wondering if Danny’s incident had anything to do with her. She’d gained weight recently, and had a feeling that her husband wasn’t too impressed with her new hairdo, a slightly asymmetrical bob in walnut brown with honey wheat highlights.

“We’re going to the US Virgin Islands.”

“Really?” Annette says, lighting up and breaking her gaze from the television.

Danny, relieved that the news is pleasing to her, utters a silent thanks to God, thinking that the timing of this worked out well. “Yah. We leave next Thursday for two weeks. You think you can get the time off.”

“Yes,” she shrieks, excited about their first getaway in years. And both of them heave secret sighs of relief, thinking to themselves, “Thank the Lord for Viagra.”

A few miles away, another “couple” lay in bed. Unlike Danny and Annette, however, Sandy and Mario were able to complete what they’d started. Thrice. And they’d worked up quite the appetite doing so. “Why don’t we order Chinese food?”

“Okay,” Sandy agreed, although she’d already had chow mein and shrimp fried rice for lunch, and potstickers with pan fried noodles for dinner the day before. But with Mario in her bed, there wasn’t much she’d say no to. It wasn’t often that he stayed over this late. Perhaps he’d even stick around to watch Leno with her.

“Let’s do Hong Kong Hideaway,” he suggests. Sandy reaches down to find her phone on the floor, the number already saved as a contact. She dials the number and orders them a Chinese chicken salad (something Sandy wondered if they could have just called ‘chicken salad’ since the Chinese part was sort of a given), wonton soup, and brown rice. He rubs his palm up and down one of her semi-hairy legs, sending waves of electricity through her body, and she giggles to let him know she enjoys the touch. This was just the way she’d always pictured them – a playful connection, a comfortable chemistry. But she’d instead settled for whatever he was willing to give her, which she always knew would never be a wedding ring. Most of the time, that fact didn’t bother her being that her parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and just about all of the other significant folks involved in her childhood had divorced with infidelity to blame in most cases.

Recently, though, her daydreams drifted more and more often to flower girls, vows, a grand party, and a dazzling white dress (her mother would die if she knew Sandy was no longer a virgin). This thing with Mario had become much more intense than she’d ever imagined it would be. She knew that, sooner or later, she’d have to end things. She couldn’t afford to go insane over a guy she could never have.

“Sandy-San,” Mario sang, still rubbing her leg.

“Yes?”

“I’ve got something to tell you.”

She beams, hoping he’ll tell her something like he’s arranged a trip for two for them to fly off to the Caribbean, telling his wife that he’ll be at a conference.

“I’m leaving Cyn.”

Sandy tells herself that she needs to do a better job cleaning her ears. “You’re what?”

“I’m gonna leave Cyn. I haven’t decided when, but I’m gonna do it. We’ll have a little sit-down soon, and I’m gonna tell her that I think we should separate.”

Sandy can’t speak. Her breath has literally been taken away.

“Now, don’t worry. I’ll make arrangements elsewhere – I don’t want you to think that I’d try to crash here with you.”

That wouldn’t be a problem, she wants to tell him.

“That’s it. I just thought I would tell you first.” He picks up the remote and flips to Fox News, nearly turned on upon seeing a pair of his favorite political pundits ripping each other apart.

But as far as Sandy is concerned, Fox has nothing on the news he’d just given her. As far as she was concerned, she’d just heard the best news of her life.

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