- Joined
- Nov 15, 2025
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- 116
Her phone buzzed another Tinder match. She ignored it.
Not today.
She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling fan, the blades lazily stirring thick, humid air that did nothing to cool her. Even in her underwear she was sweating. She thought about the pool at Ada Ciganlija hell, any pool would do but after last weekend's disaster, she couldn't face another round of "You're so confident for a big girl!" compliments from guys who'd never survive a real night in her skin.
The summer had barely started, but Teodora's patience for men and their thinly disguised fetishes had run out.
She grabbed her phone anyway, opening WhatsApp. There were already three unread messages from her best friend, Milica.
Milica:
"How's the Tinder wasteland today, queen?"
Teodora:
"Drier than this apartment. Might as well use my matches to light a candle for my dead libido."
Milica sent back a GIF of a chubby cat falling off a couch. Teodora snorted and typed:
"If one more guy says he 'loves curves' and then freaks out when I sit on his face, I'm gonna join a convent."
Milica's reply was instant:
"Just need the right face, babe. And the right equipment."
That made Teodora laugh, but it stung a little, too. Equipment. God, the number of guys who'd swagger up to her in clubs or on apps, all talk until they got her naked. Then it was always the same: Awkward fumbles. Apologies. The inevitable "I've never been with a woman like you before..." as they tried (and usually failed) to find the right angles.
Last month's hookup flashed in her mind a cute, sweet guy from Novi Sad who'd seemed up for anything. He'd practically fainted when he saw her ass in the light, and when they finally got down to it, he'd just... well, he just didn't have enough to even make her gasp.
Teodora sighed and sat up, brushing her hair out of her face. This was not the vibe she wanted for her summer. Not this year.
She looked around the room, where her Montenegro packing pile had overtaken her desk and the foot of her bed. The trip was less than three weeks away, and she still hadn't figured out what to bring. Six bikinis black, red, pink, one with a wild leopard print, all in various states of surrender.
She picked up the leopard print one and eyed it doubtfully.
"Let's see who wins today," she muttered, wriggling into it.
The bottoms fought bravely, but her hips won out. The top wasn't even close. She took a selfie and sent it to Milica with the caption:
"Warning: Contents under pressure. Catastrophic spandex failure imminent."
Milica's reply was ten laughing emojis and, finally:
"If Montenegro can handle those waves, they can handle yours."
Teodora grinned. She stood in front of the mirror, twisting, appraising her body. Belly soft and round, thighs thick and dimpled, hips wide as a summer day. Her boobs looked almost dangerous in the bikini top, ready to burst free if she so much as sneezed.
Once, that would've sent her spiraling. Now? She mostly rolled her eyes, snapped a few more silly photos, and imagined herself strutting the beaches of Budva, giving no fucks. Maybe this year, she'd be the one leaving boys breathless and out of their league.
Her phone chimed again a Tinder notification this time. For a moment, she hovered over the app, thumb poised to delete it forever. But boredom and a stubborn little itch won out.
She opened it and scrolled. There were the usual faces shirtless gym bros, artsy types with guitars, a parade of men who would see her curves as a challenge, a punchline, or a fetish.
Then one profile caught her eye. Sun browned skin, messy hair, a cocky smirk, and wait, was that a puppy? He wasn't flexing. He was laughing, holding a beer, arm slung around friends. His bio was just stupid enough to be charming:
"Looking for trouble. Or at least someone who can outdrink me at the beach. Bonus points if you love grilled corn, sunburns, and Balkan pop."
Teodora bit her lip, considering. She was supposed to be done with this. Supposed to be packing. Supposed to be
She swiped right.
Not even five seconds later: It's a match!
She burst out laughing.
Milica:
"Tell me you're not swiping at the altar of heartbreak again."
Teodora:
"Shhh. Something interesting just happened."
Before she could overthink, a new message appeared.
Stefan:
"If those bikinis can't handle you, you might just be a force of nature. Should I be scared or impressed?"
Teodora stared at her phone. That was fast. And good.
She typed back, grinning wickedly:
Teodora:
"Depends. How's your health insurance?"
And with that, the tiniest, hottest ember of hope flickered to life in the sweaty haze of her summer.
Maybe this would just be another round of banter and disappointment. Or maybe not for the first time, but for the first time in a long time she wanted to see how far this one could go.
She flopped back onto her bed, already tapping out her next message.
Summer wasn't over yet.
****
Teodora was still lying on her bed, phone in hand, feet fanning the warm air, when Milica's messages began lighting up her screen like fireworks.
Milica:
"So? Give me his stats. Cute or just another plank with WiFi?"
Teodora:
"Muscles, beard, beer, puppy. Looks fun. Bio says he can outdrink me. I bet he can't."
Milica replied with a series of skeptical GIFs and a meme of a dude lifting a chihuahua like a dumbbell. Teodora grinned, already feeling lighter. Maybe she did need a little trouble this summer.
Her Tinder app pinged again.
Stefan:
"Insurance is covered. But do I need to sign a waiver before I let you pick my beach playlist?"
Teodora rolled onto her stomach, typing back as the sunlight painted golden stripes across her floor.
Teodora:
"Only if you promise not to cry when I put on 'Lepa Brena' for the third time."
Stefan:
"I'm braver than I look. But I do draw the line at 'Jelena Karleuša.'"
She let out a snort. He was quick rare on Tinder, where most guys moved at the pace of cold soup. Even so, she waited a beat before replying. Let him stew a little, she thought.
Meanwhile, her phone buzzed with a photo from Milica a screenshot of their high school group chat, revived and full of chaos.
Group Chat: Summer Sluts 2.0
Milica:
"Teo matched a new boy! Send the bikini pics, stat."
Anja:
"Let's vote on which one gets you the most free drinks."
Teodora groaned, but scrolled back to the selfie she'd taken in the leopard print bikini. She sent it, cropping out her face but not her attitude.
Teodora:
"This is the one that'll get me thrown off the beach. Or maybe start a riot. What do you think?"
Anja:
"God, those boobs are weapons. You'll cause a maritime disaster."
Milica:
"I vote you bring all of them and change every hour. Make the boys dizzy."
She sent a string of laughing emojis, then stared at her reflection again. No matter how many times she did this tried on swimwear, posted pics, laughed with her friends it was always a battle between feeling like a goddess and feeling like a punchline.
She snapped out of it when Stefan's next message arrived, bright and bold on her lockscreen.
Stefan:
"So... which beach are you planning to wreck with those bikinis? Budva or somewhere even wilder?"
Teodora bit her lip. Not shy, are we?
She texted back:
Teodora:
"Budva, if my suitcase survives. Every year I say I'll pack less, but somehow five bikinis, three dresses, and a bottle of rakija always sneak in."
Stefan:
"You're a planner. I like that. I'm heading to Montenegro too, maybe late August. Looking for a beach partner who won't judge my sunburn."
A thrill zipped through her, unexpected and delicious. The idea of meeting him somewhere far from the city, salt on her skin, nobody watching...
Milica's text popped up again, as if reading her mind.
Milica:
"He's cute. You two are gonna have dangerous chemistry. Send me his IG before you die in a spandex accident."
Teodora:
"What happened to 'be careful'?"
Milica:
"Oh please. Just make sure he's actually packing what you need, for once."
Teodora laughed and fired off a reply to Stefan, pushing the conversation just a little further.
Teodora:
"So, if we both end up in Budva, you'd better be ready for some serious beach games. I don't play nice. And, full disclosure, my bikinis don't really behave."
He was fast.
Stefan:
"I like a challenge. Bring your best bikinis, attitude, and everything else."
She stared at her screen, a slow, wicked smile curving her lips.
Teodora:
"You might regret that, big guy."
She tossed her phone onto the bed, heart pounding a little faster. The room still smelled of sweat, sunscreen, and summer, but suddenly the air felt a little lighter.
She thought about her Montenegro list: bikinis, sunblock, power bank, the good towel, the playlist she'd never let anyone else hear. Now, maybe, she'd add something new a chance. A little trouble. Someone who could handle her, on the beach and off.
Outside, the city hummed, alive with heat and hope. Inside, Teodora stood in front of her mirror, hips cocked, giving herself one last wink before stripping off the bikini and slipping into something softer.
This summer wasn't about playing small. She wasn't shrinking for anyone not in her DMs, not on the sand, and definitely not for a guy who just might be brave enough to keep up.
****
By early evening, the heat in Teodora's apartment had finally faded just enough to be bearable. She cracked her window, letting in a breath of humid air tinged with the distant smell of grilled meat and car exhaust. Down on the street, someone was blasting turbo folk from an open car door. Teodora shook her head and grinned Belgrade, chaotic as ever.
Her phone was buzzing again, but this time she didn't mind.
Stefan:
"So, hypothetically, if I challenged you to a beach volleyball game in Budva, would you destroy me or just let me think I'm winning?"
Teodora:
"I only play for pink slips. And if you're lucky, I might let you win the first round. Gotta keep a man's ego alive somehow."
She could practically hear his laugh through the phone.
Stefan:
"I should warn you, I take my trash talk very seriously. There may be consequences."
Teodora:
"Big words. Hope you've got big... everything else to back it up."
She hit send, then immediately rolled her eyes at herself. Was that too much? Too soon? Whatever. She was tired of pretending to be shy for guys who'd only run away once they saw what she was working with.
Her group chat lit up again.
Milica:
"You're really going for it with this one, huh?"
Anja:
"Show us his pics again. Rate his potential!"
Teodora scrolled back to Stefan's profile: beach hair, sun on his shoulders, mischievous smile. No mirror selfies, just a couple of candid shots with friends and one blurry snap of a puppy licking his ear. There was something about the way he looked at the camera open, a little wild, but not trying too hard.
She dropped a screen recording in the group chat.
Teodora:
"He seems chill. Says he's into adventure. Claims he can cook, but his profile pic is him burning ćevapi."
Anja:
"That's a green flag. Men who try to cook are dangerous in the best way."
Milica:
"Just make sure he's not allergic to curves."
Teodora chuckled. The guys she usually met on Tinder either treated her like a walking fetish or tried to pretend her body wasn't as big and soft as it really was. She'd spent enough time letting her own insecurities call the shots this time, she wanted a summer story with no edits, no filters.
Her phone buzzed Stefan, again.
Stefan:
"Full disclosure: I've never lost a game of volleyball. But I'm prepared to be humbled by you."
Teodora:
"Just bring your sunscreen and your A game. I'll handle the rest."
She hesitated, then added:
Teodora:
"Honestly, most guys I meet can't handle all this. It's not just curves. It's attitude, too. You sure you're up for it?"
There was a pause. Three blinking dots. Then:
Stefan:
"I love a challenge. And I'm pretty sure you'll keep me on my toes. Besides, I'm not interested in 'easy.'"
She grinned, feeling her skin flush with something more than just the heat.
He sent another message:
Stefan:
"So what's the wildest thing on your Montenegro bucket list? I need to know what I'm getting into."
She thought for a moment, then replied:
Teodora:
"Skinny dipping at night. Doing shots with strangers. Swimming out past the buoys. Finding a secret cove and making out until sunrise. You?"
Stefan:
"Honestly? All of the above. And maybe a few surprises. We could start with skinny dipping... but only if you promise not to swim circles around me."
She let herself relax into the rhythm of the conversation, every back and forth like a slow dance, teasing, building, drawing them closer. She was surprised at how much she liked talking to him how he kept up, how he flirted without just sexualizing her, how he seemed genuinely interested in who she was.
Her phone buzzed again Milica, relentless.
Milica:
"You got plans tonight or are you just going to sext him into submission?"
Teodora:
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
Milica:
"Just send me your location if you disappear. Don't make me get the group chat to track your ass with Find My iPhone."
She laughed, typing back:
"Chill, mama bear. If he can't handle me, he can always try to keep up. I'm not shrinking for anyone."
Stefan's message appeared, this time longer.
Stefan:
"Look, Teodora. Real talk: I've never been with a woman like you before. Not just the body though you're gorgeous. But you've got this energy. I can already tell you'd make Montenegro unforgettable. That's what I'm looking for. Not some safe, boring fling. I want a little trouble."
She stared at the words, her breath catching just a bit.
Teodora:
"You want trouble, huh? You better keep that same energy when you see me in person."
Stefan:
"Deal. And if you bring the attitude, I'll bring the sunscreen and the cocktails."
She smiled, not just at her phone, but at her reflection in the window, flushed and alive and already wondering what kind of story this summer would be.
Down below, the city buzzed with promise. And up in her apartment, Teodora swiped her hair back, letting herself imagine all the ways this new trouble might play out.
****
The sun was setting over Belgrade, casting orange stripes across the rooftops and turning Teodora's bedroom into a molten pool of gold. She lay on her side, toes dangling off the bed, phone propped against her pillow as the group chat exploded in fresh drama.
Milica:
"Soooo is he a playa or an actual adult?"
Teodora:
"Honestly, he's fun. Flirty, but not a creep. Fast texter. Doesn't ask for nudes. Yet."
Anja:
"He will. They always do."
Milica:
"Don't send face. Or tattoos. Remember the dentist?"
Teodora cringed at the memory a Tinder match from last year who'd turned her nudes into an awkward dental office meme. Never again.
Teodora:
"This one feels different, I swear. And he's not scared of the curves. At least not yet."
Anja:
"Well, if he runs, we'll just kidnap you and do girls' Budva instead. But tbh? I hope he can handle it. I wanna see you make someone sweat."
She grinned, then sent another photo this one in a black string bikini, all hips and sass.
"Which one for the first beach day?"
The girls voted: Milica for red ("Classic bombshell"), Anja for the string ("Dangerous. You'll get free cocktails for sure").
Meanwhile, somewhere across town, Stefan was deep in his own group chat.
Stefan:
"Bros. Serious question. What does it mean if a girl says, 'Most guys can't handle me' and I kinda wanna try?"
Vanja:
"It means she'll destroy you and you'll thank her."
Luka:
"Pics or didn't happen. Also, don't be a dick."
Miloš:
"If she's got attitude and a big ass, just do whatever she says. Trust."
Stefan sent a blurry screenshot of Teodora's profile.
"She's out of my league, huh?"
Vanja:
"Nah, man, you just gotta play to your strengths. Don't try to be cool. Be funny. Be you."
Stefan:
"So, don't talk about my deadlift PB?"
Luka:
"Only if she asks you to lift her."
Stefan burst out laughing, nearly dropping his phone.
Meanwhile, Teodora was scrolling Instagram, idly flipping through summer beach photos girls in matching hats, groups clinking plastic cups on pebble sand, some impossibly tan guy playing guitar in the surf. She closed the app and stared up at her ceiling, suddenly nervous. Maybe she was doing too much. Maybe she was just a story for his boys. Maybe she'd get ghosted again.
Her phone buzzed.
Stefan:
"So, if you could only bring three things to Budva, what would they be?"
She smiled.
