Chapter 3 - #003 /pics on the beach/

Arcades were my favorite my place on earth. They were like little pockets of pure energy and vibe. In constant motion and full of fun. I’m sure a certain amount of it was nostalgia from years of using them as an escape during their prime years. The beach lacked the tight enclosed nature and perpetual fun machines of a good ol arcade. But it made up for it by having many, much better views. Not to mention more people in attendance actually showered. Not that I could talk really. I borrowed a bikini from some nice girl who was in the middle of having a good but probably il advised time under the boardwalk with her boyfriend. She had good taste and I was going to return it probably. I didn't really mind if someone stole my clothes. So, I told myself I was karmically balanced. My only real complaint was that it wasn’t a great fit. It was a little small up top and a little too big around the bottoms. But I was hoping that’d add to my appeal instead of getting me tossed by the lifeguards for showing off too much

That was the real reason I was there after all. I was lying out on my back, arms behind the back of my head with my chest up in the air. Not to brag but I had a pretty nice pair, big and soft but not huge enough to really get in the way. I was fairly proud of them. So even as laid back as I was, I was a little perturbed as many of the guys with cameras passed me by. I was getting glances, maybe the occasional stare, but the supposed money makers were passing me by. They were easily identified by their overly flashy clothes and on point haircuts, but otherwise mediocre bodies. I was sure it was just an excuse for them to ogle the wildlife. But money was money, and I didn't really mind. They just weren’t seeming too enticed though. They’d give me a look, chat amongst themselves and then go further west. It was a curious pattern. I rolled over onto my stomach brushed my fluffy brown locks to the side as I switched my attack plan. My butt was pretty good too, and as I had insisted to Jennifer they were in season. Mine was naturally big and wide cause of my build, but I had walked it across two states on foot, so it was nice and toned as well. Yet still the boys and turned their camera lens elsewhere.

I wasn’t particularly plussed, I rarely was. But I had to at least check where they were heading. If there was something mythical pool of sea nereids that were that much hotter than me. I’d bow out gracefully. Then probably join in at staring at them. I rolled over and got up and tossed the day as a day well spent sunbathing. Maybe I’d get em next time. But followed the last pair towards wherever they were going nevertheless. It was only then that I saw them, maybe thirteen of them gathered along the coast like some sort of deodorant scented religious congression

Following their gaze, I saw her out on the waves. A woman on a surfboard with silver hair the color of platinum, her figure wasn’t just hot. Anyone can have a hot figure, hers was somehow shredded. She was toned from her powerful legs and well refined thighs, to the sharply sliced six pack bared by her skimpy bikini. She cut through the waves lazily, almost drifting on her board like a reed, but never once toppling over. I couldn’t have done it I was too top heavy whereas her chest was as flat as her board. I couldn’t blame the surfer bro’s for staring and asking for her autograph as she eventually pulled up to the beach. “Uh...sign my tits...” I blurted out suddenly. I hadn’t realized just how hypnotized I had been by her until the world left my lips. The photography bros certainly seemed to like it. She blinked and let out the cutest little squeak. “Uh...sure” she said borrowing a marker from one of the bros as each positioned themselves to take the money shot. Up close I realized her eyes were a beautiful shade of silvery blue. “Cythina Silva” she wrote it on my chest. Which was difficult given my girls are perky and thus not a great surface. But I still read it clearly. It was an interesting mix of sensations and a very good time.

“So, you’re a surfer huh?” I asked her quite intentionally stating the obvious. “Oh yeah, I’m a surfer!” she agreed with a nod. “That seems pretty fun!” I told her. “It is pretty fun!” she shot back. The two of us slipping into a bit of a giggling fit. It seemed our conversational styles were a little too similar. The woman was close to a work of art. But we seemed to share the same curse of communicating like we had our heads up in the clouds. I didn't mind though, I liked her vibe. “So uh, you uh, often ask girls to touch your boobies?” she asked me as we began to just kind of wander aimlessly across the beach. “Only the ones who are as hot as you” I said casually, and I noticed her posture change a little. She really did like to be complimented it seemed. “I mean really though, you’re the hot one” she said staring at her signature and the plush breasts it was written onto. “Oh, but if you had these babies, you probably couldn’t surf as well” I said giving them a little shake to watch her reaction. Her head moved like a bobble head imitating their motion. She really was dangerously cute. “Eh surfing's just a good time is all” she explained with a sigh. “Ah truly you’re a woman of culture, what you really want out of life...” I said trailing off and side eying her. “Is a big, no, a huge, pair of boobies...” she said returning my side eye as we both fell into a bout of giggling.

We found our way to this slightly questionable little tiki bar, just by walking and vibing together. Cynthia walked in like she knew the place, which I found pretty interesting. But not half as interesting as the person I found inside, who also clearly knew the place. Hard to miss, admittedly as a result of my own actions. Jennifer was a noticeable presence at the bar by the sheer force of her girth. The bar stool was actually somewhat obscured by the hanging blubber of her oversized behind. “Oh shi-” she muttered as I walked in almost spitting out her drink. “Oh, is she a friend of yours” Cynthia asked staring a little at the rather oversized young woman sloshing back colorful fruity drinks. “N-” “Of course!” I said breezily albeit while talking over the woman who had been actually asked. I figured she'd say no but that didn't mean she was right about it. I joined Jennifer at the bar and Cynthia sat next to me. It was a little awkward. Since I was too poor to order, and Jenifer knew it. After a moment she shot me a sympathetic glance. “Two drinks” she told the man behind the bar. “Don’t you have to be more specific” I mused as a glass was pulled out by the bartender. “They only do the one drink here” Cynthia informed me before giving Jennifer a nod of mutual understanding.

As you might expect from the sole menu item in a questionable tiki bar, in a questionable city, it was a little off tasting. Yet I had a finely tuned pallet akin with that of a raccoon forged in the flames of lack of money. So it tasted just fine by me. Based on their winces, Jenifer and Cynthia were still in the “acquiring” phase of an acquired taste, but they downed the stuff, anyways. I didn't realize why till Jennifer paid for all three of our drinks with a single dollar bill. “How was the beach?” Jennifer asked me, talking enough into her drink that it actually bubbled somewhat. I paused to consider. “It was a good time, but I didn't really get what I was looking for” I told her somewhat conscious of Cynthia next to me. “Well if you couldn’t then there no point in a girl like me showing up” Jennifer explained with a satisfied grin. I supposed she felt she had won the argument, but I didn't really think we were in one. “Hmmm what do you mean there’s no point in you showing up to the beach” the silver haired surfer asked skeptically. The two as sharp a contrast as one could be, one moody with a big blubber body, the other breezy with a body that looked sculpted out of sandstone. It was almost a little surprising they spoke the same language. “Well...you know...” Jennifer trailed off.

“Ho-...how are you two so air headed, I swear” she muttered clearly flustered she hadn’t had her biases affirmed. “I just want to know!” Cynthia objected clearly not really getting it. “Look...okay, look at this” Jennifer explained taking a gratuitous handful of her belly and giving it a large wobble. “This is a gut that puts any mom body to shame, I’m not just out of shape, I’m the type of girl who results in a beached whale sighting” she practically fumed still talking into her drink and avoiding eye contact. “You’re just being melodramatic, the beach is fun, you should come along” Cynthia told her giving her a pat on the back. Poor Jennifer seemed entirely unprepared for the close contact. “Yeah, let's all go tomorrow, it’ll be fun” I told Jennifer genuinely, putting my hand over Cynthia’s. “F-fine, just stop talking about it” Jennifer eventually relented with a deep sigh that brought me a great deal of satisfaction. She was much too uptight.

That evening we were all walking home. I chose to walk Cynthia back a little further than Jennifer did. Her figure wasn’t exactly built for long walks after all. I also needed to see if my clothes were still there. “It really Is the greatest injustice huh” she muttered gazing across at the sunset. “Huh?” I asked her skeptically. “Even your friend had, y’know..” she said glancing down at her own chest. I glanced down at mine, but the emotional moment was ruined by the reminder she had literally signed my chest. What she was saying wasn’t lost on me. I’m rather chill but even I had to notice the oddness in a girl like her being jealous of a girl twice her body weight in pure blubber. It weighed on me as I found my clothes. The only things missing were my bra and panties. But I didn't mind since I could just wear the bikini under my clothes anyways, when we returned the next day.