Lisa and Friend - Part 3

Still on her tiptoes, Ginger's arms locked around her thighs, Lisa stares on as Max and PJ continue to fight over a pair of binoculars. Wriggling and writhing, her arms flailing, Lisa tries to get away from her captor. Ginger, however, simply smiles up at her, watching as Lisa's breasts heave to and fro, amused by her captor's sudden need for egress.

Lisa: C'mon, lemme go! They've seen us?!? Th-they've seen ME! Naked!

Ginger: Yeah, and..?

Lisa: Ohhmygawd! How can you be so nonchalant about this? Those two dorks are totally gonna...

Ginger: Oh, relax. What are they gonna do? Just... Just act like you haven't seen 'em.

Ginger loosens her grip just enough to let her bestie to escape. Looking over her shoulder with an angry scowl, but heeding her friends advise, Lisa casually walks toward the sliding glass doors as if no one has just spied on them while in the middle of getting to third base. During the time it takes her to get to the open doorway, Lisa has just enough time to steal an indirect glance at Max and PJ. The two boys instantly stop slap-fighting, mouths agape, staring on as the naked goddess pulls the drapes shut. As far as they know, Lisa is simply closing the drapes so that no one -will see- them, not -has seen- them.

Wheeling around, a mortified expression on her face, Lisa watches as Ginger bursts out laughing.

Lisa: That's... That's not funny! They saw... They're gonna...

Ginger: (giggling uncontrollably) Gonna... Gonna, what? 

Lisa: They're gonna tell... I dunno... Somebody!

Ginger: Jesus. Can you be any less melodramatic? This is Max and what's-his-face, the fat kid with the uber-milf, stripper-mom we're talking about. The only thing they're gonna do is give themselves a big ol' case of the blue balls and then jerk off the rest of the week.

Lisa: Eeeuuw, gross! I did not need to know that!

Ginger: Remember all of that bullshit they made up back in high school about 'being in Powerline'? They're gonna concoct some lame-ass story, go home, and then tell all of their dorky friends about how they 'scored' on spring break?

Still on her knees, Ginger smiles and gestures for Lisa to come back towards her. Rolling her eyes, an irritated expression on her face, Lisa strides back to her redheaded best friend. Grabbing the blonde behind her knees, Ginger grins up at her mischievously. Watching as Lisa folds her arms across her bare chest and glares out into open space, Ginger runs her fingertips up and down the back of the blonde's thighs as a peace offering.

Ginger: Still mad at me?

Lisa: Yes!

Ginger: You know what I'm gonna do to make it up to you?

Lisa: (sighing testily) What?

Ginger: I... And by 'I', I mean 'we'... We are gonna put on as little clothing as possible, go downstairs, ogle at hot guys...and girls...on the beach, lay by the pool and get a tan, drink margaritas all day long, and enjoy ourselves. In the meantime, we're gonna make Max and... What's his name...?

Lisa: PJ.

Ginger: Whatever. We are gonna make those dorks life a living hell.

Looking down at her best friend, Lisa gives her a quizzical smirk. She's never seen this side of her before. As long as she's known her, Ginger has always been the quiet and reserved one...the follower, not the do'er. But ever since they got on the plane to come here, it's as if a switch had been flipped. She's confident, mischievous, lascivious, provocative, lustful...and now...down right devious. For the usually more dominant Lisa, this personality switch is a total turn-on.

Ginger: Now, go put on the skimpiest, sexiest bikini you've got...and then lets head down to the pool.

Lisa: Oh... My... Gawd! You are sooo hot right now! Who are you...and what've you done with Ginger?

Forty five minutes later, after a judicious amount of fondling on the elevator ride down, a round of margaritas at the poolside tiki bar, Lisa and Ginger find themselves holding hands, laying beside one another on lounge chairs next to the pool. It's just far enough away from the hustle and bustle of the condo's outdoor bar that no one will take notice of them. From Max and PJ's vantage point, they can only see a small portion of the neighboring pool deck...on which, the girls have strategically placed themselves.

Having chosen a black sling bikini that doesn't quite cover the entirety of her dark areolas and leaves most of her puffy labia exposed, Lisa looks over at her best friend and smiles. Ginger in turn, clad in a 'Baywatch red' micro bikini that leaves even less to the imagination, smiles back at her.

Lisa: I think the black stilettos were a bit much.

Ginger: Not from where I'm sitting.

Lisa: Think they're watching us?

Ginger: Of course they are.

High up on their room's fifteenth floor balcony, still wearing his giant sunhat and caked in sunblock, PJ has gone back to scanning the beach and boardwalk for roaming hotties. Max, having retreated into the air conditioning, stands at the room's kitchenette, mixing another round or absurdly large umbrella drinks. The sight of Lisa, her tan lines standing out as she stood naked before them, is still very fresh in their memories.

PJ, completely unaware that his free hand has migrated to his crotch, suddenly stops scanning, fixated on a pair of women lounging by the pool opposite of their condo.

PJ: Dude! DUDE! It's THEM?

Max hurriedly comes to the balcony door, drinks in hand, and peers out. Setting one of the drinks down next to PJ in order to shield his eyes from the bright Florida sun, Max takes note of where PJ's hand is.

Max: Dude?! Seriously?!?

Snatching his hand away, embarrassed, PJ points down to the girls laying beside the pool. In order to get a little reprieve from his inadvertent hand placement, PJ attempts to hand Max his binoculars so that he can see for himself.

Max: Uhhhh... Euuuw! I don't even wanna touch those now.

PJ: Fuck you, man.

Down in the lounge chairs below, looking up through their darkened sunglasses, Ginger and Lisa watch as there is a sudden flurry of activity on the boys balcony high above. They can't quite make out what the two are shouting at one another, but their hand gestures and the pointing can only mean one thing: they've been spotted.

Sitting up, Ginger makes a long, exaggerated effort to stretch. Arms raised above her head, she pushes her chest out while arching her back, one leg bent at the knee like a Vargas pin-up model. Lisa follows suit, propping herself up on her arms and pushing her chest out, staring over at her bestie with a knowing smile. The redhead can't help but notice that Lisa's narrow sling bikini is all but slipping off of her breasts, the edge of the tight fabric only being held in place by her erect nipples.

Ginger: I think you need a back rub.

Lisa: I think I need an all-over rub.

Again, making a point to exaggerate all of her movements, Ginger throws a leg over the side of her lounge chair like a po-rn starlet 'showing the goods'. Standing, legs spread apart, hips cocked to one side, she gestures for Lisa to sit up. Sitting upright, Lisa pushes her chest out further, spreading her legs in a similar fashion and bending her knees, letting her high heels dangle off the side of the chair.

Straddling Lisa's lounger chair, Ginger grabs the blonde by the shoulders as she sits down behind her. Her inner thighs firmly planted against Lisa's hips, Ginger begins to knead her shoulders and the back of her neck. After a moment or two of making all of the right gyrations and overemphasized facial gestures, Lisa leans her head back, opening her mouth invitingly. Invitation accepted, Ginger leans forward, pressing her breasts into Lisa's back as she nuzzles her nose behind the blonde's ear.

A quick glance upwards and, sure enough, the two boys once again appear to be having a tug-o-war battle over something...probably the same pair of binoculars as they had earlier in the day. Running her hands down the sides of Lisa's back and underneath her arms, the blonde lets out a little giggle. Past the ticklish part of her ribs, Ginger slips her hands beneath Lisa's breasts. Cupping her underboobs, the redhead glides her hands upwards, under the barely-there bikini, her outstretched fingers squeezing the entirety of Lisa's generous melons.

Straining her neck backwards, turning her head sideways, Lisa all but begs for Ginger's mouth to meet hers. The ginger-haired woman obliges, her lips pressing hard against Lisa's, both of their tongues flicking and intertwining. Lisa scarcely notices a hand slip away from one of her breasts...until she feels fingertips gliding across her 'landing strip'. 

In a moment of self-consciousness, suddenly realizing that it's the middle of the afternoon and they are in fact mere feet away from a crowded public beach, Lisa grabs Ginger by the wrist and smiles.

Lisa: Umm, maybe... Maybe we should continue this upstairs?

Ginger: Mmmm. What's the matter? Scared?

Lisa: Ummm, no... I'd just assume not end up on one of those 'Girls Gone Wild' videos.

Ginger blinks, glances around, suddenly very aware of her surroundings. Her plan... Their plan was to have two pairs of eyes watching them...not a thousand pairs. Standing up behind her, still exaggerating her movements, Ginger steps to one side and offers Lisa a hand. Grabbing the redhead's hand, the blonde stands as well, coming face-to-face with her, their breasts pushed against the others. Kissing, they turn and walk hand-in-hand, the redhead walking backwards for a time, smiling as she 'guides' the blonde back towards the high-rise.

The boys balcony finds PJ sitting in his chair, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. He can already feel the tightness down below of an impending case of epididymal hypertension. Max, the obvious victor of the binocular tug-of-war contest, watches as the two women strut towards their building.

Max: Dude! Their coming back up!

PJ: (mumbling, almost silently) Fuck you.

Max: Oh, stop your sour-pussing. Please tell me you brought the camcorder?!

Tossing the binoculars back to PJ, Max hurries back inside, rummaging through a dufflebag for his friend's video recorder. A moment later Max reemerges, camcorder in hand.

PJ: (gesturing at Max with an upturned hand) Yeah...and I'm the perv? 

Max: Dude. (points at the camera) Dollar signs. Hot chicks naked and doin' it on spring break? We could totally sell it to those 'Girls Gone Wild' guys.

PJ: Uhhh, hello? They're gonna see you holding that, genius! And there's this thing called a 'model release form'. Oh, and in case you haven't noticed...their blinds are closed.

No sooner has PJ finished his sentence when the previously closed curtains in the room opposite of theirs slide open. Lisa and Ginger, furiously kissing as they make their way towards the rooms king size bed, claw at each other's swimsuits.

PJ: Forget everything I just said.

Original Art by Hackman23

Commissioned by Phillipthe2