poolside, and Chris stopped to look at Jen. “How did that happen?”
“I was kissing a boy on the beach last night.” Jen waggled her eyebrows.
“Wow. Kissing. I kiss my grandma sometimes.”
“Oh, was your grandma in the van last night?” Jen teased.
“I said I kiss my grandma. I don’t fuck her.”
“Chris!” Jen gasped, unable to disguise her shock and disapproval. “You just met him yesterday!”
Chris smiled and gave her head a condescending shake. “You’re precious, Jenny.” She patted Jen’s face before resuming her lumber toward their room.
“Please don’t call me Jenny,” Jen muttered under her breath, following Chris into the room. She was used to getting patronizing comments from friends who were no longer virgins, which was pretty much all of them, but that didn’t mean she liked it.
***
Midway through the trip, the four girls strolled down the beach. The sun had finally won out over the clouds, so they were in a festive mood. It almost felt like their first real day in Florida. As they soaked up the sun and scoped out fellow vacationers, all four pairs of eyes were drawn to two sculpted male bodies near one of the hotel pools. The guys had to have been models. Their lean, oiled physiques were clad only in tight, red Speedos and mirrored aviator sunglasses. Without discussing it, Jen and her friends moved toward them as if by ancient instinct.
A group of giggling girls had formed two lines near the guys, one line in front of each guy. As Jen and her friends approached, she noticed that each of the guys held a juicy slice of lime between his perfect lips. A whistle blew, and the girl at the front of each line licked the smooth, hard pecs of the guy in front of her, downed a shot, and sucked the lime from her guy’s mouth. The two girls walked away, savoring their fruit, and the next two stepped up while the guy with the whistle re-salted the models’ pecs.
Jen’s mouth fell open and she turned toward Chris, who already held her hand up for a high five. Looking at Maria next, Jen saw her friend was staring at the brunet model to the left. It was difficult to know for sure, given his reflective eyewear, but it seemed he was likewise checking out Maria—most guys they’d passed on the beach had. Her bright orange, crocheted bikini showed off every one of her curves to its full advantage. “We have to do this,” Maria said.
Licking a stranger wasn’t something Jen would normally consider, but she shrugged. “When in Daytona…”
The girls jumped in line, and on their way to the front, they learned that this was a promotional exhibit for a margarita mixer. The shots they’d be taking were non-alcoholic. The closer they got to the front, the more reluctant Jen became. Was this even sanitary? She started thinking up excuses to back out, but when she opened her mouth to say something, she realized she couldn’t balk or she’d never hear the end of it from Chris. She had to go through with it.
She and Chris reached the head of the line, and Jen took the blond on the right. The salt sparkled on his chest in the sun, like tiny diamonds in the most glorious of settings. The whistle blew. Jen clamped her eyes shut and leaned forward to lick the salt. She went for speed over accuracy and felt the firm nub of his nipple under her tongue as she flicked it over him. She gulped down the tangy shot and snatched the lime from the guy’s mouth with her teeth, somehow avoiding any lip contact whatsoever. She nearly choked on the lime as she doubled over in flustered laughter.
Chris slapped Jen on the back, screaming, “Whoo!”
They stood back to watch Celia and Maria. Celia giggled, but Maria wore a steely look of determination as she stepped up to the brunet. He was several inches taller than Maria. She reached up and snatched his sunglasses, exposing a pair of gorgeous, ice-blue eyes. Maria held the ice in a steady gaze as she grabbed the salt from the whistle boy and began shaking
“I was kissing a boy on the beach last night.” Jen waggled her eyebrows.
“Wow. Kissing. I kiss my grandma sometimes.”
“Oh, was your grandma in the van last night?” Jen teased.
“I said I kiss my grandma. I don’t fuck her.”
“Chris!” Jen gasped, unable to disguise her shock and disapproval. “You just met him yesterday!”
Chris smiled and gave her head a condescending shake. “You’re precious, Jenny.” She patted Jen’s face before resuming her lumber toward their room.
“Please don’t call me Jenny,” Jen muttered under her breath, following Chris into the room. She was used to getting patronizing comments from friends who were no longer virgins, which was pretty much all of them, but that didn’t mean she liked it.
***
Midway through the trip, the four girls strolled down the beach. The sun had finally won out over the clouds, so they were in a festive mood. It almost felt like their first real day in Florida. As they soaked up the sun and scoped out fellow vacationers, all four pairs of eyes were drawn to two sculpted male bodies near one of the hotel pools. The guys had to have been models. Their lean, oiled physiques were clad only in tight, red Speedos and mirrored aviator sunglasses. Without discussing it, Jen and her friends moved toward them as if by ancient instinct.
A group of giggling girls had formed two lines near the guys, one line in front of each guy. As Jen and her friends approached, she noticed that each of the guys held a juicy slice of lime between his perfect lips. A whistle blew, and the girl at the front of each line licked the smooth, hard pecs of the guy in front of her, downed a shot, and sucked the lime from her guy’s mouth. The two girls walked away, savoring their fruit, and the next two stepped up while the guy with the whistle re-salted the models’ pecs.
Jen’s mouth fell open and she turned toward Chris, who already held her hand up for a high five. Looking at Maria next, Jen saw her friend was staring at the brunet model to the left. It was difficult to know for sure, given his reflective eyewear, but it seemed he was likewise checking out Maria—most guys they’d passed on the beach had. Her bright orange, crocheted bikini showed off every one of her curves to its full advantage. “We have to do this,” Maria said.
Licking a stranger wasn’t something Jen would normally consider, but she shrugged. “When in Daytona…”
The girls jumped in line, and on their way to the front, they learned that this was a promotional exhibit for a margarita mixer. The shots they’d be taking were non-alcoholic. The closer they got to the front, the more reluctant Jen became. Was this even sanitary? She started thinking up excuses to back out, but when she opened her mouth to say something, she realized she couldn’t balk or she’d never hear the end of it from Chris. She had to go through with it.
She and Chris reached the head of the line, and Jen took the blond on the right. The salt sparkled on his chest in the sun, like tiny diamonds in the most glorious of settings. The whistle blew. Jen clamped her eyes shut and leaned forward to lick the salt. She went for speed over accuracy and felt the firm nub of his nipple under her tongue as she flicked it over him. She gulped down the tangy shot and snatched the lime from the guy’s mouth with her teeth, somehow avoiding any lip contact whatsoever. She nearly choked on the lime as she doubled over in flustered laughter.
Chris slapped Jen on the back, screaming, “Whoo!”
They stood back to watch Celia and Maria. Celia giggled, but Maria wore a steely look of determination as she stepped up to the brunet. He was several inches taller than Maria. She reached up and snatched his sunglasses, exposing a pair of gorgeous, ice-blue eyes. Maria held the ice in a steady gaze as she grabbed the salt from the whistle boy and began shaking
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