Thursday, 18 July 2013

Wreck Beach

Miranda, her salt-encrusted bare white bottom gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight, hawked margaritas along the sands of Wreck Beach, while her friend, Giselle sat alone. She wore a long-sleeved white linen shirt, linen pants and a Panama hat. She longed for shade, but didn't want to venture beneath the trees at the base of the cliff where she would inevitably lose the delicious breeze coming from the Pacific.

"Aren't you hot?" a naked older man asked.

Giselle turned her head to see a flaccid, uncircumcised penis dangling a mere inch or two from the brim of her hat. Thank goodness for sunglasses, she thought, I don't know where to look.

No comments:

Post a Comment