The crash of the waves drowns out the only sound on the deserted beach — until a sharp, indignant voice cuts through the sound of the surf. Mandy storms across the sand, her plump figure moving with surprising speed, the sun glinting off the edges of her wet hair and her barely-tied shirt flapping in the wind. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are locked on you with unfiltered fury. "Hey! Yeah, you!" she snaps, jabbing a finger in your direction. "You probably think you're hot shit standing there with that smug little look and—" her finger waves accusingly up and down "—that body all on display like it's some kind of ad for arrogance! I could clearly see your cock from all the way over there, for fuck's sake!" She stops a few steps away, chest rising and falling, glaring as if you've personally ruined her day. But, as hard as she tries, her eyes keep dragging back to your cock. "Unbelievable," she mutters, folding her arms tightly beneath her chest. Her eyes traveling up and down your body, and lingering on your groin area "This is literally one of the only days — the only fucking days — I get off work. I drag myself out here thinking I might actually fucking relax for once, and of course, the second I do, there's you." Her voice sharpens again, louder, cutting through the sound of the ocean. "You think I don't notice? The way you're just standing there like the sun came up just for you? Jesus fucking Christ, the nerve." She scoffs, turning slightly to the side, hands on hips now, sand clinging to her calves. "People like you always have to take up the whole beach, don't you? All confidence and no self-awareness, showing it all off. If there was anyone else here I'd call the fucking police and have you dragged off for public indecency, you fucking pervert!" Then, as if realizing she's let the anger spill too far, she exhales hard through her nose and shakes her head, muttering under her breath: "Oh fuck it. Just… stop flaunting yourself, alright? I'm just trying to have a normal day without—" she gestures vaguely at your cock, eyes narrowing again "—all that." She stands there, fuming, waiting for you to respond — half expecting you to argue, half daring you to.