Key West Read Online Free PDF

deep breath, Carrie’s longing crossed a bold new line, a line where she no longer cared about propriety or about what had felt right or wrong to her as recently as yesterday. For once in her life, she was going to do just do what she felt like—she was going to quit being such a damn angel.
    Without saying a single word to Chris or even glancing his way, she pushed off the stool and headed for the stage. When she reached it, a girl with long brown hair was teasing the crowd, covering her wet breasts with her hands before slowly pulling them away with a provocative grin. Scott’s eyes were glued on her, but Carrie reached up to pull on his sleeve.
    He looked down. “Whatcha need, honey?”
    “Is it too late to get a t-shirt?” Her heart pumped a mile a minute.
    A grin stretched across his face. “Of course not. Just walk around back and you’ll see a box of them. Hurry, though—this girl’s the last one, so you’re up next. What’s your name?”
    “Carrie,” she yelled to be heard above the music.
    “See you in a minute, Carrie,” he said with a wink.
    Feeling rushed, she walked briskly behind the stage where a small partition was erected. Girls’ shirts, bras, shoes, and bikini tops lay scattered about and as soon as she plucked up one of the skimpy t-shirts, she didn’t hesitate to take off her own. Her body hummed with excitement, anticipation filling her as she dropped her bra and felt the warm, tropical breeze blow over her breasts, tightening her nipples even further. What would it be like to parade half naked before all those hungry eyes? Before Chris’s hungry eyes? Her crotch throbbed.
    Just as she pulled the tiny tee down over her boobs, she heard Scott’s magnified voice. “And finally, give it up for our last lovely lady, Carrie!”
    Letting her tongue slide sensually across her upper lip, Carrie paraded onto the stage as boldly as any stripper in her cotton tee and short skirt. Approaching the center, she saw two hot-looking guys with super soaker water guns heading her way. Reaching up, she ran her hands down over her breasts, smoothing the t-shirt and thrusting out her chest to welcome their spray.
    It only took a few shots from each big gun to drench her—the cool water sucked the cotton against her rounded flesh, providing a little of the stimulation she longed for there, so she jiggled her breasts in order to feel more. Her crotch tingled madly as the crowd yelled their raucous approval. A sense of raw sexuality spiraled through her as the guys with water guns peered down at her soaked mounds and a shout of “Shake it, baby!” echoed from the audience.
    It took little prodding to provoke her into some dirty dancing—her body was dying to thrust and shimmy and sway. As she did a turn, wiggling her ass toward the crowd, she gazed on all the girls standing in a line behind her—some topless, their breasts naked and tan lined against the sea breeze, others still in their sexy, revealing wet clinging tees. A forbidden desire thrilled her, and brought out still more unplanned daring in her as she reached behind her to begin lifting her skirt in back, slowly, teasingly, while the guys watching cheered this sexy new move. Finally, she drew it up over her ass—she was wearing a lacy white thong she’d gotten as a shower gift. The crowd reacted like animals in heat as she molded her hands to her ass cheeks.
    One of the guys wielding the huge, phallic-like water gun stepped up and shot a barrage of water onto her bare ass and the strip of panty stretching across her mound below. She was dripping wet there now, too, gyrating her hips as the guys yelled out, “Nice ass!” and more howls of excitement filled the air.
    Finally, turning back to face the crowd, she followed her instincts and did what she’d been dying to do for hours—she massaged both breasts, taking the needy globes full in her hands, kneading and squeezing. She used thumbs and forefingers to tweak her hard nipples, glancing