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I went over to her, placed my hands around her small waist, and drew her close. “I’ve been hot all morning.”
“I’ve noticed,” she said with a smirk.
“Why don’t you rummage through the collection.”
“They’ve probably been worn,” she said, pulling a face.
“We can wash them. They’ll dry within a minute.”
Miranda walked around the room. “This is such a boy’s room. Is it always going to stay this way?”
“Not if I can help it. This is out of respect for my dad. It stays this way while he lives.”
“You didn’t have a room like this?” She pointed at the posters of football stars, cars, and busty blondes.
“Nope. I had pictures of famous drummers and cartoon characters. It drove my dad crazy.” I pictured my father’s disgust when seeing Homer Simpson on the wall and not Pamela Anderson.
Choosing a blue bikini, Miranda smiled. “This should fit.”
One hour later, we walked onto the beach hand in hand. The water sparkled, and the sun’s warmth puckered my skin. Life felt great, especially with beautiful Miranda by my side in her skimpy bikini, which heightened what had become an almost permanent state of arousal.
We plonked the surfboards onto the sand.
Miranda shook her head. “You’re seriously determined to watch me making a dumbass of myself.”
I laughed. “I just want you to experience the buzz.”
“Surfing strikes me as difficult.”
“Not when you get the hang of it. It’s all about placing your weight properly on the board.”
We applied sunscreen and then headed for the shoreline.
I laid the board on the sand. “Let me show you how to spring up.”
“Spring up?” Miranda laughed. “I’ll be struggling just to stay on it.”
“Just try it.” I pointed at the board. “Lie on your tummy.”
Down she went on the board. “You just want to ogle my big ass.”
“Yep. You got that right.”
“Hey,” she protested. “You’re not meant to agree.”
“Oh… but I do want to check your sexy ass, which is not big. Just firm and chunky.”
“Chunky? Shoot a girl down, why don’t you.”
I chuckled and slapped her sexy butt.
“It’s cold down here,” she said.
“Now I want you to push off with your arms and land on your knees in one nice fluid movement.”
“Ouch,” she complained, having pulled off the move well.
I laughed. “Be sure to take your weight on your arms. Like this.” I demonstrated the maneuver.
