Sheva and all her girlfriends were living it up on the beach; she was slathered in sunscreen and shimmer lotion that smelled like soft cocoa and vanilla. Her waist was set with gold and pale sea shells that dangled and crowned the full of her hips.
Energetic music flowed from the boom box on the heap of sand along side of their towels, and the coolers dripped with condensation from the slow melting ice. They wede all a little tipsy, and Sheva had the moutj of an open beer to plump lips-' the chilled, bubbly, liquid burst flavor against her tongue as she tiled her head back to take a sip.
"Sheva! You know... that thing?" Rebecca said it slyly, calling her attention. When she looked her best friend's way, Becca is holding a watermelon in both arms, speckled in droplets of water. "They don't believe me."
With a chuckle, Sheva leaned down, set her bottle firm in the sand, and made motion to receive the fruit. "All right, but I'll do it only once. I hate to waste food." Their companions gather around, filled with giggles and chatter, eager for the show.
Dropped down onto her towel, Sheva set the melon between bare and strong thighs and wiggled until it set right. With her hands braced behind herself and her friends watching with baited breath, she tensed and began to squeeze. The muscle in her legs flexed, hard as stone and prominent, and her core drew tight as she drew her legs together with determination.
At first, there was no change, just her jaw clenched and a sharp breath from her nose...but slowly the hard flesh of the watermelon began to spider, crack, and soon the juicy inside began to trickle down her skin. The girls let out a squeal of surprise when it finally burst open, leaving a mess of sticky sweet between her legs.
Rebecca grinned from ear to ear, her arms crossed beneath her chest as the others let out a cheer.