by James Parducci

Created on: July 11, 2010

Bikini Girl

Her breasts heaved against the pliable blue material of her swimsuit, its thin tying strings somehow able to withstand that mighty pressure. Around her waist another string was tied snugly and kept a lower patch of blue material tanning her body, as it did above, in a lined and sensual browning.

Delia was not overly conscious of her body but she knew it was sound and she knew it drew men to attention in all ways. The fact that she was striking to look at. . . eyes, lips, nose, made matters worse for her onlookers, her wavy black locks kissing her breasts and the tips of her delicate shoulder blades. Even that remote part of her form made men stop to look at her. How men dreamed of her, no greater goals to achieve than a moment in her sensuous company. How they wished for her in sandy places, in dark places, in public places. How sad for them to want such a goddess. Perhaps if they prayed at the feet of their statues of her, she might grace them with a troublesome glance.

She thought of the golden idols of her image, the desire of all the men who wanted her and smiled at the numbers that must now worship her bronze temple, oiled in the summer sun, drinking in its heat well into twilight, and she tried to decide where to dance in front of them and own the night as she owned the day.

She enjoyed such attention but something was missing. It had bothered her all day and enough was enough. As the frustrated sun goddess wondered how she might get through this crisis, she saw him, her knight in shining armor, her prince in white, right there on the beach.

“It’s about time. I’ll take one.”

The beach vendor reached into his cooler and produced a small ice cream, a size that fit her, a small size she doubtless indulged in only on rare occasions to not warp the casing of her perfect, delicious form.

After enjoying the sugar-and-cream solution to her endless stress, the solution to all things, she licked her gloss-polished lips of the last of the icy treat, and the men watched her again now, amazed at the sight, Delia the star of her own show. She flashed her shoulder blades at them as she turned to stretch out in the sand and hummed to herself playfully, satisfied that all was in order and that there was no one else like her in the world.

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