Bikini Isekai 1: Bikini Carwash

Okay, this premise popped into my head and just drove my prior series in progress completely out. I love playing with tropes, and this idea is tailor-made for that. I am having a ball writing it, so I hope you will have a ball reading it.

These stories are long. If you know isekai stories, they always start slow while the mechanics are established. And fair warning, while all stories will be drenched in tease and tantalize, the sex is occasionally long in coming, and a little weird when it does. Nothing fetish weird, this is a Publius Joint, after all. But when the sex comes, there is some weirdness about its presentation. Our hero, Danny, will endure more frustration in the middle of successfully getting laid right and left than you will believe...

But again, don't worry. It's all plenty hot.

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Bikini Isekai 1: Bikini Detailing

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This tale begins as most of this sort do, I guess, with the rush of air from an advancing shockwave and my eyes suddenly perceiving the rapidly enlarging front grill of a Peterbilt semi.

*

When my brain began working again, my first words were, "AHHHHHHHHH!" and "Noooooo!" My first thought was to wonder why I was not in excruciating, broken pain. Then my mind cleared slightly, and I wondered, more to the point, why I was alive. There was no way that truck was going to stop, and no way it was going to miss.

But I realized that I wasn't in pain. Any pain at all. In fact, I felt nothing whatsoever. I could not see or hear, though I was aware that the world was white, not black. My memories didn't seem to be fully online either. I mean, I remember the grill of that oncoming truck, but...

Ew. Maybe I was not alive anymore. That would suck.

"Yo, dude," came a sudden voice. I remembered voices from before. This was definitely a voice. "Get your crap together," the voice went on, impatient but amused. It sounded female. I specifically remembered females now. I was definitely a fan. Except for my ex-wife and a few of her friends...

I focused on the voice, and suddenly I could perceive my body, all solid and uninjured. I shook my head and sat up. What I sat up on, I had no idea, as the world stubbornly remained that same endless, shadowless whiteness. I could feel I was sitting now on something fairly comfortable and cushioned, but I could not see it or perceive its shape, nor the shape of anything else at all.

I shook my head again, and now I could see and fully feel my own body. I was whole and intact. But different. First of all, instead of my ill-fitting suit, scuffed wingtips, and legacy tie that my former wife had given me ten years ago, I found myself wearing board shorts and an unbuttoned camp shirt. More strangely, I was definitely too young. This was my twenty-something body: slender, bordering on reedy. Honestly, this still beat the pudgy, aging mess I had seen in the mirror last time I looked.

Great. That memory was back, and clear as a bell. Whatever was happening, I did not need to remember the increasing dismay as I had come to grips with how I had let myself go, even before the divorce.

Do you know how weird it is to be in a well-lit place, but there are no shadows whatsoever, and you can't see anything except yourself, including the thing you are sitting on?

It is almost as weird as definitely being hit by a semi, yet not being dead.

Almost.

I mean, I was strangely certain that this was neither Heaven nor Hell. In Hell, I'd still be the fat mess I'd let myself become during and after a pre-forties divorce. In Heaven, I'd have some decent muscles...

"Danny!" came the voice again. "Focus! I want to get you to work." I realized I could sense the direction it came from, and I peered that way, which looked identical to every other way. Then it stopped looking identical.

Suddenly, I saw a figure. She was fading into view, appearing from some non-existent mist as she walked toward me.

And yes, she was most certainly female. With no physical frame of reference, I could not guess at her height, but I somehow nevertheless knew she was perhaps a couple of inches over average. The rest of her was anything but average. Her gleaming natural blonde hair was teased into a massive corona around her simultaneously innocently cute and strikingly alluring face, with high cheekbones and huge, brown doe eyes. Her legs were long and tight, and her hips flared richly out below her wasp-thin waist. Her breasts were impressive and bounced extravagantly with each sweeping step she took.

She wore a bikini. It wasn't particularly extravagant, but on this woman, it did not need to be. It showcased her every curve and her significant bounciness perfectly. Watching this creature walk was better than a free week at Disneyland. A free month.

Holy cow.

It had been decades since I'd had a wet dream, but I felt like I might be in one right now. I sat up straighter and subconsciously tugged the front of my shirt closed over my suddenly bony-seeming chest.

"Who are you?" I asked, like a confused, stupid... whatever the heck I was, instead of the suave, confident man I desperately wanted to come across as to this vision.

She stopped in front of me. She posed, really, with cocked hips and hands on her waist. "I'm Candy," she said.

Of course you are, I managed not to say out loud.

Cripes, even her bare feet were hot...

"I grabbed your soul just after your moment of fatal stupidity and brought you here," she added, giving me a slightly taunting look.

"You... Wait... You grabbed my soul? Are you God?" God was named Candy? God had tits like that? No, but...? "I mean, are you a god, or... or something?" I asked, trying to fit things into place in a fashion that made any sense at all.

Candy snorted. "Hardly! The gods seldom give a damn about mortals. And the Big Guy himself has layers and layers of administrative staff to insulate him from beings like me, let alone run-of-the-mill mortals. No, I am a Muse, and I plucked you off the scrapheap to be my Seed."

"A Muse?" I asked, stupidly.

"Yes, a Muse," she said, rolling her eyes. "You know, powerful otherworldly beings who inspire and nurture the creativity of human storytellers and artists? That's me. And you will be my Seed, a soul with sufficient agency to enhance, enrich, and spread the ideas I nurture among those who create tales within my metier."

"Your metier?"

"Yes. The specific arena of tales that I work to inspire and spread. There are thousands of Muses, just for humanity alone. Each of us has our own particular type of artistic vision that it is our desire to promote and promulgate."

"So there is competition among Muses?" I wondered. "That could be cool, I guess. But it is probably pretty cut-throat, considering how creative humans are."

"You mortals are not as creative as you think you are," Candy said wearily. "That is why there are Muses. And it isn't competition between us Muses, it's more like bureaucratic territoriality. Infighting is dreary and super boring, and I try to stay out of it at all times. Be glad that you won't have to worry about any of that stuff in your new existence."

My new existence. Wow. That was a heavy concept.

"And I'm a whatchacallit, a Seed, right?" I asked slowly. "What does a Seed do?" It occurred to me that if the rest of my existence was to be spent following orders from this cross between Barbie and Jessica Rabbit, except convincingly human and way hotter to boot, I might not mind being dead.

"Once I am done setting you up," Candy said, walking around a bit, which was a-okay since it sent those tits jiggling some more, "You will find yourself in one world or another that comports to the basic structures of my stories, with people who fit in as well. Your job is to live through the sort of scenarios that make up my authors' and filmmakers' tales, celebrate the ups, suffer through the downs, and breathe human life into the tales, which will then inspire many living artists."

"And what is your sort of story?" I asked absently, trying to wrap my head around what could be awesome, but that also sounded pretty fraught.

"I am the Muse of Raunchy Sex Comedies," Candy said.

"What?" I choked. Or, my mind sort of tried to choke. I think my body was still trying to remember how to choke. "Raunchy what?"

"Oh, shut up," Candy said crossly. "It's not a prestigious gig, I know. Sorry. But Ichabod could have gotten his mitts on you. How'd you like to be beholden to the Muse of Gory Horror?" I shuddered in sudden... horror. "Or maybe you'd rather I trade you to Greta?" Candy snapped, "She and all her dreary, pretentious, apocalyptic fables?"

"Those do sound like hideous jobs," I agreed hastily. "But..."

"Look, I know my work has been in decline lately," Candy growled. "The lack of interest in making much of my stuff has made me weak, and it's taken forever to save my strength enough to be able to swoop in and grab you before someone else did. Seed-worthy souls are a pretty rare commodity. I haven't had a new one of my own in ages. All my stuff is stale. Half the tales, shows, and movies I've inspired of late have been duds. The other half have been duds and triggered John, the ArchMuse of Pornos to engage in that bureaucratic territoriality I mentioned. Do you realize that I have basically missed out on the whole streaming revolution?" she pouted prettily. Of course, she pouted prettily. I was certain that she blew her nose prettily.

"But..."

"Look," Candy overrode me. "This is why I need you. A highly qualified seed like you understands the job, and keeps things from getting outright stupid. I mean, most of my stuff is kinda stupid to begin with, but your job is to inject that humanity and keep things plausibly ridiculous."

"Why am I 'highly qualified'?" I asked, a little mystified by that turn of phrase.

"Please," Candy snorted. "The last six movies you rented online before you kissed the truck were Bikini Med School, Bikini Summer 2, Fraternity Vacation, Private Resort, Trading Places to mix in some class, and Bikini Drive-In!"

"What?" I yelped indignantly. "How could you know that? I clean my browser history fully and use a frigging VPN!"

"Please, doofus. You think Incognito Mode will hide you from a demigod?" she laughed. I almost swooned at that laugh. Even as this... um, Muse mocked me, everything about her was just delightful.

*

Suddenly, I was standing on a sidewalk. A sunny, sandy, concrete sidewalk, between a street and some dunes. The sun was starting to get lower in the sky over the ocean. I glanced at the Swatch I found myself wearing and saw from the time that the water had to be the Pacific. I turned slowly in place. Even if I had not had contextual clues about where I was, it was easy to identify this as a beach community somewhere in SoCal. But a dated version thereof.

The first thing that jumped out was the utter plethora of convertibles. And all the businesses, mostly on the other side of the street, were small independents. There was not a Starbucks, McDonald's, Gap, or Ulta to be seen. And not a single smartphone was in view. The place screamed late 80s, early 90s. Every dude I saw except me wore really short shorts and swim trunks.

But that wasn't quite right either. More modern things were mixed in here and there. There were more foreign cars than you would have seen in the 80s. Hairstyles came from a wide variety of decades, though most were 80s vintage. And the bikinis were from damn near all eras since their invention.

There were so many bikinis.

It took me a moment to see beyond all the exposed, tanned, tight skin to realize the weirdest thing of all. Almost everybody was young. Guys and girls all seemed to range from 20 to 25 years old. I looked closer and snorted. There were also a plentiful supply of obviously 35 year-olds who dressed and acted like the world was expecting us to believe that these nearly middle-aged people were 21 or something.

I could see a few openly older folks, who mostly only registered on my brain because of their reactions. Some old ladies would stop and huff, comically aghast as some spectacular thong-clad ass roller-skated by. A few old guys ogled those same asses like dirty old cartoon perverts, and without being subtle in the least. Quite the opposite, actually, leering openly. But if there were other people supposed to be over 25 around on the streets, they just never registered in my, or anyone else's, vision.

I realized the world in which I found myself had been constructed according to the most pervasive, yet most subtle trope of raunchy sex comedies: The world belongs to the young.

All this registered in my head in what felt like barely a second, before I heard some chucklehead that I could not see crank up a boombox nearby. Some generic, beachy pop tune that wanted to be catchy, but was not, blared out. Simultaneously, I was suddenly in the midst of a crowd of rollerskating girls in bikinis of all shapes and sizes. Well, all the shapes and sizes that were hot, at any rate.

The girls were all laughing and smiling at each other as they skated around each other in circles. They even started circling me as the song went on. Tan skin glistened, and breasts swayed in bikinis that provided too little restraint. My gaze suddenly lurched to three conventionally handsome blonde bros in short, tight swimsuits and open beach shirts like mine. All three were leaning backwards, one hand on their mirrored Aviators, with comically shocked expressions of delight at the passing parade. I jerked my eyes back to greener pastures. One skater swirled too close to me, and stumbled into my arms, dislodging my eyeglasses on my face. I held her up with difficulty, but enjoyed myself immensely. She was the nicest armful I'd had in damn near a decade or more. But she just laughed and righted herself, skating on as if I had never been there.

Wait. Since when did I wear thick prescription lenses?

Oh, wow. This was a freaking montage, I realized. There were always Babe Montages in bikini beach comedies. If my life was going to be populated with these, I was definitely all-in on Candy's needs for me. I tried to fumble my glasses back into place, and sure enough, what I was expecting to see, happened.

Two girls, particularly well-endowed ones in particularly precarious bikinis, were laughing and shoving each other playfully as they skated my way. One grabbed for the other and missed. In doing so, she grabbed the bikini strap and tugged it enough for an unreasonably nice breast to come popping free. It was seriously fine. Firm, bouncing in its sudden freedom, with a dark, upturned nipple.

Instead of covering herself immediately, the tit-out girl just shrieked in happy outrage and yanked the other girl's top aside, dumping both of that girl's smaller, but only relatively so, boobs into the open!

My eyes opened wide, righting my glasses fully, just in time to see everything. But then they both swept past me, and when I spun around, there were no exposed boobs, and in fact the girls were not visible at all, gone and replaced with other, marginally more covered babes.

Then the song suddenly ended, and the crowd of bikini skaters faded from existence.

My glasses were still crooked, and I just stood there, stupidly bemused. Then I stiffened.

Oh no! Please don't let me be the comic relief in this tale! You wouldn't do that to me, Candy, would you? Please let me be the nerdy underdog who comes through and scores some hot babe in the end.

I straightened my glasses reflexively and realized that I was holding a sheet of paper in my hand.

I smoothed it out as best I could and moved it back and forth to find the focal length on the shitty glasses I needed. When the paper was finally readable, my vision seemed almost like I was looking at it over my own shoulder from above.

Darned trite cinematography... How could I work to fix that, I wondered momentarily.

Danny,

Get your backside here by close of business, Thursday. San Ramona Carwash. You can't miss it. I've got to leave in the morning for Mexico, so you better be here. Your mom promises that you won't let my place collapse around your ears.

Uncle Chuck

Okay, so we were doing Bikini Carwash to start. Once upon a time, I had enjoyed that film, but could only remember fragments of it now. Would things always be this recycled, or was Candy just starting me out with a slam dunk? And how closely would it hew to the original?

Whichever, I had better find the damned carwash. I looked around. I could not see it, or any other carwash anywhere, so I guess I certainly could miss it, whatever this 'Uncle' said..

In the movie, I vaguely remembered the main character had gone down to the beach to look for it.

No.

I was supposed to inject some logic into this scenario to make it 'plausibly ridiculous', whatever bullcrap phrase that was, so I was not going down to the beach to find a carwash. I started walking along the street.

What time was 'close of business'?

I walked a little faster, hoping I was going the right way.

Then, coming up from the beach between a couple of dunes, came five girls. I wondered if I was about to be treated to a second montage, but then noticed that these girls were talking half-seriously, there was no disembodied boombox, and each had prettier faces than any of the girls in the initial Rollerskating Montage. Faces I could focus on...

Oh, please, please let these girls be primary characters! Because even though I could actually focus on and perceive thoughts and emotions on their faces, keeping my gaze high enough to actually do that was still hard...

Unfortunately, they did not spy me and smile in recognition. Instead, they just started to shoulder their way past me as if I were some hapless nerd.

Ouch.

"Excuse me," I said quickly, stepping into the way of the raven-haired girl, waving my letter from 'Uncle Chuck' to get her attention.

"Yes?" the girl answered, stopping and looking like she had not even seen me standing there before. The four blondes with her slowed and turned in equal shock at the talking sidewalk bench.

"I'm, uh, I'm new in town," I stammered. I never stammer. Dammit, Candy! "I am looking for my uncle's business, San Ramona Carwash. Can you point the way for me?"

All four blondes had teased, late-80s hairstyles, three platinum colored and one strawberry. The dark-haired girl I was trying to talk to had an anachronistic 90s hairstyle reminiscent of Courtney Cox in the first season of Friends.

What?

Listen, I sometimes watched comedies that didn't have nudity! I did! And besides, let's face it. If you watched Friends in HD, you were moderately familiar with Courtney's nipples anyway. And even more familiar with Jennifer's...

"Um, I don't think I know the place," said the strawberry blonde girl. She had the smallest breasts among the five, which still left a lot of room for size. And her anachronistic element was her modern monokini that managed to cover less skin than the others' bikinis did.

"None of us has a car out here this summer," the blue-eyed blonde added.

I started to slump my shoulders, but the first girl said, "Wait! I think I've seen a carwash. It's down the road a ways."

"Could you tell me the way? Or better, show it to me? I don't want to get lost again," I asked eagerly. I really wanted these girls to be part of the story, so I decided to see if I could do anything to affect the way events played out.

One of the other blondes snorted. As if they would waste their time walking with this nerd halfway across town.

But the first girl smiled at me. "It's kind of out of our way. But I remember that Wilson's Swirly World is right across the street. Tell you what, you buy us milkshakes there and we'll walk you to your uncle's place."

Five milkshakes? Well, six, because there was no way I wasn't getting one for myself to drink with these babes. Did I have that kind of cash? Did I have any cash?

I reached into my pocket and felt a thin packet of bills. Rats. I did not want to pull it out and count in front of these beauties...

A small bright square flickered in the lower right corner of my vision. Instinctively, I focused on it.

Instantly, time all around me seemed to crawl to a halt, and the square expanded to a small array of text. On the right, towards the top, was a table of information. I quickly spied the word Cash.

Cash: Fun money

Fun money?

A voice that was and was not Candy's elaborated from somewhere. Fun money means you have enough for minor expenses like milkshakes for pretty girls and other incidentals, but not enough for any major expenses.

"How do I get more money?" I asked Candy.

There was no answer.

Quickly, since no one was moving a millimeter, I looked at the rest of the sheet.

Name: Danny

Age: 23

Intelligence: 15

Height: 5' 8"

Build: Slight

Cash: Fun money

Game: Meager

Hair: Drab

Debuffs: Nervous stutter

Buffs: Not remotely

Virginity: Null

Game? I wondered.

The voice answered, Game is the multiplier applied to the chance of success of any gambit you try with a girl or girls. Equally important is the quality of the gambit. A middling pass made at a bright girl with high Prude rating will likely not succeed, especially not with a low Game stat like yours. But that same pass might easily succeed if you were a master rating for your Game stat. Regardless, that otherwise same pass aimed at a bimbo would have a wildly higher chance for success.

Holy cow! Was this a freaking character sheet? Was I in an isekai? A real-life RPG?

I thought about that. The absence of stats like Hit Points and Armor Class filled me with relief.

I was about to dismiss the information and resume the story when I stopped. Hair? Hair was a freaking primary characteristic? What the heck?

Worse, mine was... 'drab'. Hair has a secondary effect on Game check calculations. Its influence is related to how physically oriented the girl being approached is, the voice I assumed was Candy helpfully supplied.

So I had drab hair. How was I supposed to fix that?"

"I'd love to try the milkshakes," I said brightly, as confidently as I could manage. It was a wobbly attempt, but better than before. Honestly, I'd have had a hard time in my real life offering to take this crowd of hotties for a milkshake.

"You were going the wrong way," the first girl said, and pointed back the way I had come.

I turned and headed off. "Let's go have a shake then!"

Behind me, I heard one girl say, none too quietly, "Kristi! We are going to hang out with this guy?"

"Do you have money for milkshakes?" Kristi replied. So I had a name for the black-haired girl. Drat. She sounded like she was the leader of the outfit. I thought she was the hottest among the hot, but with an obviously high intelligence, my drab hair and meager Game meant I had a terrible chance with her. I was sure my nervous voice did not help, either.

"Ohhhh! He has money for milkshakes," I heard the blue-eyed blonde say, suddenly catching up on the obvious. It seemed like she was possibly the bimbo in the group. Depending on how shallow she was about appearances, she might be a better source of easy 'experience points'.

That seemed like something I was expected to pursue, but it felt skeezy.

Sigh. Blue Eyes had, if possible, a more heavily weaponized bod than Kristi. It might be skeezy, but it might be hard to resist. How far, how fast would I sink into this game?

And were there experience points at all? It didn't seem like the point of this was a game system, and I did not see an entry for them, or even a listing of my level in the character sheet... Maybe I could improve myself otherwise? I sensed that I would have a better time in this 'job' if I could improve things like my Game, for instance. Maybe I'd hit a gym as well.

I slowed my pace a fraction so the girls caught up and essentially surrounded me. "My name's Danny," I said, looking around at them.

"Hi, Danny. I'm Kristi," said the ringleader, shaking my hand like she was a friend's aunt or something. "And this is Ginny," she added, introducing the strawberry blonde. She was the slightest of the gang, with a tiny but very grabbable ass, twinkling green eyes, and the smallest of the chests among them. Smallest tits, not small tits... and they were still fakes. About the size of oranges, only in this company could her breasts seem modest.

Wow! Suddenly, I realized that every one of these girls had fake tits. Really, really, great ones, too. I mean, they looked amazing, and bounced amazing, and seemed soft, but no real tits this big could possibly ride so high and proud when supported by this array of minimalist bikinis.

Come to think of it, I was betting a large majority of all the girls I'd seen in this town had enhancements done...

"I'm Daisy," one of the two marginally less Barbie-like blondes said. Her hair swept around her pretty face, with its button nose, in long, sweeping arcs of gold. "And this is Maisy," she added, pointing to the shortest of the girls, who seemed to be trying to make up for her shortness with a tall, top-knot ponytail. Both girls wore similar white bikinis, Daisy's trimmed in red, and Maisy's in blue, with tops that were nothing more than triangles held on with string. The bottoms were French-cut, but actually covered almost half of their fetching asses, which in this company was practically demure.

Honestly, Daisy and Maisy, outlier hairstyles aside, were the middle of the road, body-wise... among this group. They had large, beautiful breasts, narrow waists, and rounded asses that looked amazing while half-covered by those bottoms. But nothing was truly unusual or anything... unless you counted drool-worthy fit to be unusual, and I was beginning to realize that in this world it was not. I felt stupid to be making the evaluation that I was. Everything about them was outstanding, it was just that nothing was outside the basic template of extreme generic hotness.

There was a brief pause, then all four girls looked at Blue Eyes, obviously waiting for her to introduce herself.

"What?" the girl asked. "Everybody knows me!" There really was no great light of intelligence gleaming from her eyes, but what eyes. An impossible blue, they sparkled and sometimes hid beneath long dark lashes that looked to be real. They were huge, and wide, and just the sort of eyes a guy might like to drown himself in... if he wasn't obviously more interested in drowning himself in her cleavage.

Those tits really weren't fair. They were so big, they should have appeared cartoonish, and were only saved from seeming so by her height, which was the same as mine, at a couple of inches under six feet, and by their perfect, firm, natural-seeming shape and movement.

Her ass was similarly extravagant, but not by as much, with sleek hips that were just rich enough to bring those fabulous tits into proportion. Her swimsuit was as much about strings as Daisy and Maisy's, except the bottom was similarly 75% string, too.

Why did she have to be so dim? I started to wail inwardly, then stopped.

Oh yeah...

The chances of getting anywhere with a girl, what with my meager Game stat, were inversely proportional to her intelligence!

"Of course," I said quickly. "I know you. Everybody does. But I am new around here, and don't want to mess up your name. Help me out?" I asked, gently taking her hand in mine to shake it softly.

"See?" she said, looking around at her four friends as if she had proved some major point. "I told you." Then she turned her eyes back to me as the other girls grinned. Thank Candy, Bambi was so beautiful I could keep my eyes off of her tits long enough for introductions. "I'm Bambi. With an 'i'," she told me helpfully.

Of course you are.

Suddenly, a small cinderblock building with a giant statue of a milkshake on the roof hove into view. The girls started rushing a little, and I naturally kept up. Across the busy street, I saw my uncle's carwash, but the girls were bent on their shakes, and that sounded better to me for the moment. I may have developed a milk focus in the half mile we had been walking...

Besides, I owed them for their kind directions, right?

The shop was almost deserted when we entered, but the girls seemed to fill the empty space all by themselves, treating me to a mini-montage as they flirted with the counter guy, ooohed over all the ice cream flavors, and pestered me over what flavor I should try. I was sure this was a montage again because a new song started playing on the speakers inside just as we entered, and when it was done, things calmed down, and the next song was much quieter.

While the loud song played, I was just bemused as my vision was filled with a delirious rotation of images of all the bright bikinis and luscious tanned flesh barely contained within. Or almost contained. Ginny and Bambi got into a cute little shoving match to see who got to order first, and one of Ginny's breasts fell out of her monokini in the struggle.

I mean, really. It was an absolutely unreasonably nice tit. Like I said, about orange-sized, it squished prettily out of the cup of her bikini. The nipple was a sweetly rosy hue, with a surrounding field of the same color that was vertically oblong. Her nip did not seem terribly aroused at the moment, but given how pert it was anyway, my mind was suddenly obsessed with images of how it would swell if she were fully excited.

I was obsessed with the unfolding display, but I was nothing compared to the kid working behind the counter. He seemed like a high school senior, but had a host of zits, glasses somehow worse than mine, and honest-to-god external headgear for his braces. He was working in an ice cream shop, leaning over freezers, but he was still sweating so hard at this display of pulchritude that his glasses were fogging up.

The second the song ended, Ginny discovered her breast was exposed, and she nonchalantly tucked it away as if that sort of thing happened every day.

Ice Cream Nerd swallowed visibly, then croaked out a request for everybody's orders. I ordered last and without thinking, went for my favorite, an Oreo shake.

"A wut?" Ice Cream Nerd asked in confusion.

I rolled my eyes. "Duh," I said. "You know, a vanilla shake with Oreos blended in." Before this, he had actually seemed like a pretty experienced shake maker.

"Huh," he said to himself. "Well, um, I do have Oreos for sundae toppings," he said slowly to me. "But they are all crumbled up already. Is that okay?"

"They are going to be more crumbled when you blend the shake," I pointed out. I looked to the girls to make sure they saw what a noob this kid was.

For the first time, all the girls besides Kristi were looking at me like they actually saw me. In Kristi's case, she was looking a little bit impressed.

"Oreo milkshakes," Daisy mused. "That's actually a pretty brilliant idea..."

We all sat down, and I found that the girls all included me in the conversation, which I had not honestly expected. I guessed it was my milkshake savant status.

"Where are you from, Danny?" Bambi asked, first to include me.

"Oh, you know, back east," I said, not being more specific since I had no idea where this version of me was from. "Did you guys all grow up here?"

The girls all laughed. "None of us actually live out here at all," Kristi said. "We were just in the same sophomore dorm last term, and decided to come out and have a Beach Girls Summer together!"

"It's been awesome so far," Bambi added enthusiastically. The other girls all agreed, but less wholeheartedly. No one elaborated.

"So we are here for sun in the fun," Daisy went on, "how about you? Come to get a serious tan on?"

"Heh, no," I said, not sure if the real answer was a great idea. "I'm, um, here to run my uncle's carwash for him for the rest of the summer. He has to go to Mexico for some kind of treatment until the Fall." I added that last fact once the information popped into my mind.

"Can I try your weird shake?" Kristi asked, and I more than happily handed the cup over to her. She took a sip, handed it back, and smiled beautifully. "That is really good!"

Watching Kristi sip my shake was sweet. What happened next was much moreso. All four blondes declared they wanted to try it too. But instead of passing around my cup, they left it on the table right in front of me and took turns standing up and bending over to suck on the straw right were it was!

I shifted in my chair uncomfortably, especially when Bambi made a really nice noise after she took her sip.

I am not sure, but there may have been the sound of a slide whistle coming from somewhere...

The only thing wrong in the entire universe was that my shake was half gone by the time they had all had a taste. Maisy in particular had sucked on my straw for a while.

Time for a closer look at Maisy?

We talked idly about nothing much beyond vague plans for a beach fireside cookout some night soon. I was tickled to see that I seemed to be included in these plans, or at least invited. It wasn't like they were actively trying to get me to come, but I was there as they planned. These girls were all pretty cool, and certainly polite (except for Bambi, who was too freaking hot to have ever needed to lean how to act polite), so they seemed to feel it rude not to include me, since I was there, and especially since I was new in town.

I finished my shake first. Duh. At that point, I realized it was getting late, and jumped up. "Wow! This has been great, guys. Really! But I need to go check in with my uncle."

"Oh yeah, job comes first," Kristi said firmly. "Come on, girls, let's go check out Danny's new carwash."

They all rose and trooped out of the shop behind me, though I heard Bambi quietly protest, "But we don't have a car..." I shook my head. Bambi was in no way a bitch. And I was beginning to suspect that she was not quite as dumb as she sounded. But she just had so far displayed no understanding of when not to voice her thoughts...

The busy coastal street was miraculously free of traffic as I reached the sidewalk, so I crossed straight to the other side in the oncoming dusk.

The carwash was a classic old setup, with driveways in and out in front, and a big, cinderblock building housing the mechanical washer. Cars would drive off the street and straight into the back. They would wait their turn in the yard back there, then they would turn into the building and exit again to the street out front, all clean. There was a smaller second story atop the main building. I figured that was the 'manager's apartment' that Uncle Chuck had promised I could use, to sweeten the pot for running his business for next to nothing all summer.

Uncle Chuck could have just told me I would meet girls like Kristi, Ginny, Daisy, Maisy, and Bambi, and I'd have been willing to sleep on the beach for the opportunity...

I snorted at that internally as I crossed the street. I was really beginning to settle into thinking like this new/old version of me.

By the time I got to the opposite sidewalk, I realized that I had a problem.

The carwash was deserted. The OPEN sign was dark. I dashed quickly to the office door, finding myself repeating, "No no no no no no no!"

The door was locked. Possibly worse, there was a piece of paper taped to it.

Daniel,

I told you to be here by close of business! I have to pack. Worse, I will have to come back here tomorrow before I hit the road. Be here by 9am, so I can give you the keys, and don't make me regret hiring my sister's boy!

I kept on saying 'no' as I read the note.

Suddenly, I realized the girls had caught up and were gathered around me.

"Bad news?" Kristi asked, a note of compassion in her voice.

"My uncle already left, and he is pissed I didn't get here before they closed," I said, worriedly.

The girls all looked at the milkshakes still in each other's hands uncomfortably. It would have looked funny to anyone but me, but I had a problem here.

"Don't worry. You'll do such a good job running the place, he'll be your biggest fan by the time he gets back!" Bambi said optimistically.

"Yeah? Well, he sure is not going to be my biggest fan tomorrow morning," I replied grimly. "But I have an even bigger problem. He was supposed to give me the keys to my apartment this afternoon!" Swiftly, I looked at the small glowing square in my vision, and the world took a timeout while I checked to see if my Cash stat had gone up miraculously from fun money.

Oh, it had changed alright...

Cash: Sandwich Money

Milkshakes were expensive...

I looked away from my stat sheet to the girls. "Uh, could you guys show me where the high tide line is on the beach? I'll need to know because I think I'm sleeping on the sand tonight."

I wasn't sure which side of the high water mark I would decide to sleep on... This was bad.

"We are not letting you sleep on the beach tonight," Kristi said firmly. Bambi's eyes swiftly lit in agreement. The other three were less instant, but they all agreed after a moment.

"I, uh, thanks?" I said, feeling like a homeless charity case.

"You can save sleeping on the sand for tomorrow night, or whenever we have our campfire party, and we all sleep on the beach," Ginny chirped with a smile.

"Come on," Kristi said, nodding at Ginny's idea. "Our place isn't far. We passed in on the way here!"

This time, as we walked, they all trooped off in front. Instead of being herded along by them at my sides, this time I trudged along behind, still worrying.

This story could turn sour real fast if the handoff of the business broke down tomorrow. I was pretty sure that a sour tale of California homelessness would piss off the Muse of Raunchy Sex Comedies, since sour stories were not her, what'd she call it? Her metier? I don't know what pissed off Muses did to the Seeds that pissed them off, but I would rather pass on angering any immortal beings this week.

The silver lining was, well, how on earth could those asses be as amazing as those tits?

But they sure as heck were... The girls were all wearing flip-flops or sneakers, but from the sway of their hips, you'd have thought they were all on four-inch heels.

We reached their place. It was a freaking three bedroom furnished beach cottage, on the ocean side of the main drag and with a direct view of the ocean. It had no back deck, though. How could these girls survive such a hardship?

I'm pretty sure we had some kind of simple dinner and then sat around for a while in the main room of the cottage. The details were hazy, as if not interesting enough to waste energy on for the story I was in. Time just slipped away for a little while. That should have been a jarring revelation, but I was internalizing pretty quickly being some kind of story beta tester or something.

Things snapped into focus when Maisy yawned and stretched her hands over her head. When any of these girls stretched their hands over their heads, things snapped into focus... "Wow! All that all-day sun takes it out of you," she said almost blearily. "I'm going to shower and crash." She pushed herself to her feet.

Before she could take two steps, Daisy stood and stopped her. "Maisy, the drought, remember?" Maisy's hand flew to her mouth, remembering.

Really? No showers? Even these goddesses were going to be pretty rank in the morning, not to mention the consequences of sand where it was unauthorized.

"I'll help you," Daisy went on blandly. How did you help with a shower when you had to save water? Use a stopwatch?

"Thanks," was all Maisy said, and the two of them trooped into the bathroom, which was right across from where I sat. They must have been used to no guys being around, because neither closed the freaking door!

Yep, totally used to an all-girls environment. They both just immediately stripped off their bikinis, standing right where I could see them! I summoned every ounce of restraint I had ever possessed to keep from pointing out that I could see... everything.

Maisy flipped on the water, and then they both stepped right into the shower.

Ohhhh...

Save water. Shower with a friend.

Suddenly, the dopey California enviro-aphorism sounded like the wisdom of the ancients.

The shower was one of those weird anachronisms in this world I found myself inhabiting. At it's core it was the expected 80s-era hexagonal-tiled shower, with a single plain head. But the enclosure was some kind of $6,000 mid-2020s tempered glass set of doors that were perfectly transparent and shed water like the glass was not even there. There was nothing to impede my view, is what I am saying.

The water must have still been cold when they stepped in, because I could watch from where I sat as four nipples leapt to prominence from the chill. Even better, the soft, sweeping expanses of their tits were covered with rapidly sprouting goosebumps all over.

How could I possibly make out detail like that from across the room, especially through the crappy, thick-lensed glasses I had to wear?

If this had actually been some kind of softcore sex comedy, you can bet your ass the camera would have zoomed in on a sight like that. So, logically, for values of logic in this situation, my vision did too. I did not complain. My only struggle was with not making it seem like this was the big deal to me that it certainly was.

Maisy and Daisy immediately set to swiftly soaping themselves off and trading time under the water to wash their hair. I tried not to lean forward as I anticipated them lathering each other up, but that turned out not to happen. When it was clear it would not, I was able to relax a little, but I'll admit I was disappointed... and a little surprised.

Oh. Yeah, this was softcore, right?

I almost laughed when that realization led to another. I had just been watching several minutes of the best views in history of some of the best naked tits and ass in history, and I somehow had not gotten one view of either pussy. How, I don't know, since they both turned around and around in there the whole time. But every time I looked, a thigh was in the way, or a bar of soap in a hand. Every time they bent over, which was blessedly often, they always managed to be turned side on to me. By the time they got out, I still had no idea if either even had a bush or was clean-shaven.

The next thing I knew, they were both coming out of the bathroom, wrapped in small towels. Really small towels. The terrycloth reached from maybe an inch below the crotch, all the way up to millimeters above the aureoles. Maisy's towel was almost an inch wider than Daisy's, which I supposed was the case because her aureoles were a good bit larger and needed slightly more towel to keep them covered. Both girls also had towels wrapped around their heads, because no self-respecting 80s girl would let anyone, male or female, see her hair without mousse or heat applied.

Instead of going to bed, they just sat back down in the living room and rejoined the conversation.

Bambi bounced up. "My turn!" she chirped and looked back and forth between Kristi and Ginny. "Who's going to help me?" The two girls looked at each other. The thought that they could 'help' each other, and not have to be in that small shower with both Bambi and her boobs flicked across their eyes. But I then saw the knowledge in their eyes that if they left Bambi to her own devices in the shower, the girl would bankrupt them through the water bill.

"I'm coming," Ginny said agreeably and followed.

The performance that was somehow not a performance in the girls' minds repeated itself. I cataloged more acres of fantastic flesh. Of course, I had already seen one of Ginny's boobs, but let me tell you, the other one was just a wonderful. And when not being squished by a dislodged bikini top, the one I had seen was even better.

Bambi was just unfair. Just. Unfair.

And by the time they got out, I still had no more idea about any pubic hair in the cottage other than my own. As similarly be-toweled babes sat back in the living room along with the rest of us, Kristi stretched on her seat and said, "My turn!"

What a stretch.

Oh, goody!

I barely kept from bouncing up and down in my seat for the next show.

"Hey!" Daisy said quickly. "You don't have a helper!"

Kristi rolled her eyes. The sure knowledge that she would not waste water anyway, clear in the expression.

"Why don't you let Danny help?" Ginny suggested, like she was submitting a dinner suggestion.

What?

"Ohhh! Good idea," Bambi said, clapping her hands in delight.

"Coming, Danny?" Kristi asked idly, waiting for me to rise.

What?

After I flipped all my circuit breakers back online, I rose, trying not to look eager.

Kristi just smiled and walked toward the bathroom. Before she even got to it, she had reached behind her back and tugged the bow of the string on her top free. She stepped through the door, paused and turned back, holding the loose top in place to cover her own fabulous tits.

Mostly in place.

The nipples were still hiding.

Barely.

"Thanks, Danny," she said sweetly. "Just knock on the door when the water has been running for five minutes, so I don't go over, okay?" and she closed the door in my face!

All four of the other girls laughed uproariously, as if they had not all just showered completely naked in my full view minutes earlier. I just blushed and looked at my watch. The laughter went on. It was not meant to be cruel. In fact, it was pretty darned sexy.

But it was cruel.

I just stood there, keeping an eye on my watch and trying to remain nonchalantly in the conversation from my post over by the door. This was made harder at one point when Ginny's towel came loose while she was telling a joke, and it slipped to her waist. She did not even move to tug it back in place until she was done with the joke.

It was like wardrobe malfunctions were an integral part of her everyday life.

I shook my head and looked back at my watch. Damn! 15 seconds over.

I knocked on the door. "Water Police!" I called sternly and was rewarded by laughter, even from Kristi on the other side of the door. In a couple more minutes, she emerged, wrapped in a huge, wide, super fluffy, pink towel that covered maybe two inches more than the other girls' did, top and bottom. It somehow looked like a mumu in comparison.

"Your turn," Kristi said. "There are plenty of towels for you. I'll call after five minutes!" She pulled the door closed behind her and I heard her walk away from the door.

I had not been on the beach, but I did need a shower anyway. I pulled off my clothes, shoved them in my backpack, and pulled out the one clean set of shorts, shirt, and underwear I had on me. I set them aside with a towel by the shower and started to get in.

Wait. These darned glasses... With them off and safely stashed atop my clothes where I could fumble for them after I got clean, I got in the shower and ran the water. It felt good, actually, and I started to wash my hair.

The images in my head of who had been in this enclosure earlier were... vivid.

I swear. I swear to God... I swear to Candy, that I heard a boing sound from somewhere as my dick felt it had waited long enough to start to get hard. I thanked Candy for the fact that the bathroom door was closed.

I looked involuntarily over to check on said door, and, as if in evil answer to my little prayer to the boss, my blurry vision could make out it swinging wide open, all by itself!

Holy cow! This darn house had probably shifted in an earthquake or something, and the door swung open on its own. Probably why the girls thought nothing of it being open while they showered. I could make out at least a couple of girls, sitting on the couch. At least one, given the black hair, was Kristi. If I could see their faces, they could see my...

I spun to face away. The water was running over my ears, but I could hear twittering. And a few approving murmurs?

As I shampooed as fast as I could, I looked down.

Well.

The Muse of Sex Comedies may have a cruel sense of humor, but she had done me at least one solid. One very solid thing. Before I died, I had lived my whole life with 5 and a half, fairly slender, inches. It wasn't really a problem. It had always gotten the job done when I had gotten the opportunity.

But whatever was bouncing between my legs was most emphatically longer. And not remotely that slender. It was not porn star big, and I realized that I was a little relieved about that, but the very weight of the thing was strikingly more than I was used to feeling. I shot a quick prayer of thanks to Candy, with a heavy dose of sardonic humor.

I felt an actual flicker of a you're welcome! And instructions to cut out the sardonic stuff. She liked broad comedy.

I grimaced as I realized that I would have to turn around toward the girls and then fumble around with both hands to find the soap dish with my poor vision. Darn it! I definitely remembered that the soap dish had been on the back wall when I got into the shower! I remembered that distinctly. But it was no longer in that position. There was another self-satisfied chuckle from the higher power...

And I was running out of time.

I thought that 80s sex comedies were all about T&A. Not D&B!

But, I realized, Candy was working to inspire 21st-century writers. Modern women deserved their pound of, um, flesh as well...

With a grimace, I spun around and fumbled for the soap as fast as I could. It was now in a totally stupid and counterintuitive position, because that was what was most funny. I finally grabbed the slippery bar and turned back around, still pretending I did not notice the open door. If these women could manage to deny the story a single glimpse of beaver, I could do my best to prevent the camera from lingering on my dick.

I might poke the lens out with this thing...

I could hear once again some delicate laughter at my predicament. But I also heard a few more speculative murmurs. Could the memory of a guy's decent junk provide a positive multiplier to his Game stat?

I was barely clean when I heard Kristi call out in a sweet, just barely sexy voice. "Charlie! It's time to get out of the shower," she almost sang. I twisted the water knob to off and took a deep breath. I turned around and leapt out of the shower, grabbing the towel and wrapping it around my waist. At least Kristi had not come back over to the open door to call out to me.

Darn it! She wasn't interested enough to come over and get a better look?

Or did they have the same kind of camera's eye zoom vision that I did? I doubted it, alas.

I stepped away from the doorway and dressed quickly. My glasses were back on, and I heaved a sigh, no longer half-blind, nor fully naked.

"Wow," Daisy said as I wandered in, as if I had not just given them all a show that was a pale compensation for the one they had given me. "Even I am not staying up to read tonight. Bedtime?"

There was general agreement.

"Um, is there an extra blanket I could use on the couch?" I asked, my nervous stammer reasserting itself.

"I think so," Bambi said, looking around.

"Oh, you do not want to sleep on that Salvation Army reject," Kristi said offhandedly. "You've felt how scratchy it is, and there is a bar you can feel right through the cushions. I won the room lottery and got a room to myself this summer. You can sleep in there with me."

No one else seemed to find this to be extraordinary, and all trooped off to other rooms. I followed diffidently into Kristi's bedroom. Sleeping in the bed next to hers might not let me go to sleep at all...

Well, that would not be a problem, because the cottage's sole single room had just one, albeit king-sized, bed. No couch. No comfy chair. Not even really much floor space. The small room was mostly just bed. How did someone get that big of a mattress in here, anyway?

This was princely thanks for a milkshake...

"I'll, um, which side do you want?" I asked. Kristi pointed at the far side with amusement. I nodded. "Then I'll sleep over here. I'll, you know, roll over and face the, um, wall," I added, pointedly not getting under the covers.

"Yeah," Kristi said, turning out the lights. Amusement crept into her voice. "That's probably for the best." I heard her move around the bed, and I felt her slip under the covers.

It should have taken hours to work through an epic case of blue balls and fall asleep, but it didn't. Not narratively interesting, I guess. In moments, I was out like a light.

The sun streamed through the window early, and I woke. My first thought was that I needed to be back at the carwash before my uncle even got there. My second was the realization that I had slept with, well, literally slept with, Kristi last night!

Blearily, I rolled slowly over to see if she was awake yet. She was not. She was actually not so quietly snoring. And each snore got louder and wetter and more like a cows the longer I watched. I stifled a laugh. That noise coming from that angelic face was funny. But I wasn't laughing long, because it was instantly apparent that whatever she might have worn to sleep in, it did not include anything in the way of a top. Her shoulders were bare, and as she lay on her back with the sheet tucked up under her armpits, snoring hilariously, the outlines of her breasts under the thin sheet were violently arresting.

I sat up quickly, and this interrupted the snoring noises. "Uh, good morning," I said nervously.

"Good morning," Kristi yawned back, sitting up in bed. Alas, her arm automatically went to wrap across her chest, keeping her sheet in place quite firmly, as if she were not thinking about it.

Oh, wow. Trope alert. Kristi's character was clearly the ingénue main character that might or might not get naked at all, but not before the end of the story if she did. That, or she was played by the minorly famous actress who was not too good to accept a role in a T&A movie, but tragically felt she was too good to show any skin at any point at all.

Sigh.

Her sleepy vision cleared. "Hey! Danny! You should get going and run to your uncle's carwash so you can be there before he is!"

It's okay, Candy, you don't need to have Kristi go all Basil Exposition for me. I know what needs doing.

Before I could even turn, Kristi added, "There are some Pop-Tarts in the kitchen. Grab a pack on your way," she pointed the way to the kitchen. "We will probably drop by and see you later, maybe around lunch time, and see your domain," she added.

I think she said something like that.

You see, she had pointed to the kitchen with the hand that had held up the sheet and I was being presented with tits that were... beyond unfair. Sure, they were not as big or impressive as Bambi's. And while they were bigger than Ginny's, they were somehow even more beautiful.

I wanted to just sit on the edge of the bed and just stare in a locked-up fashion at those amazing, somehow fully tanned mounds. But I guess that my admittedly meager Game stat was enough to save me from embarrassing myself. I bounced out of the room, treasuring a memory for the ages.

I had barely opened the box of breakfast 'nutrition' pies when there was a loud knock at the front door. It repeated and sounded insistent. "Girls!" I heard a loud voice snarling from outside.

All five girls piled out of their rooms, all of them, even Kristi, somehow, were already in the day's bikinis. They were looking at each other with wide, uneasy eyes.

"What...?" I started to ask, but was shushed.

Kristi showed she was the natural leader once again and steeled herself to open the door. "Mr. Glotzkin?" she said timidly as she opened the door slightly.

Glotzkin barged through, pushing past Kristi. He was one of those older men that you could actually see in this world, making him a perv, a benefactor, or an antagonist.

I was quite sure that he was not a benefactor.

"Where is my rent, girlies?" he said, a cigar hanging out of the corner of his mouth. The guy's combover was epic. "Yer late!" he added menacingly.

All the girls started babbling. Glotzkin was having none of it. "Ten days! I told you..."

"Is ten days really that bad?" I asked, trying to help.

The guy's eyes widened when he noticed me, and his expression got even more ridiculously apoplectic. Kristi glared at me in anguish. "And you had a guy here overnight?" he blustered. "The lease specifically says..."

"No, no, no, no, Mr. Glotzkin!" Kristi jumped in, another glare telling me to zip it. "This is just Danny. He stopped by early this morning to say hi before his first day at work at the carwash just down the street."

The guy looked at me and snarled a little. "Well, he ain't much of a guy, at least." He turned to interrogate me. "And does she mean Chuck's place?" I just nodded, keeping my lips shut, as instructed. "Sucks to be you, kid. Chuck's a total putz," Glotzkin growled.

"Danny," Kristi said, making shooing motions, "thanks for coming by, but you really don't want to be late! We are all fine. We will see you later!"

I bailed, feeling awful to leave the girls to this guy, especially when the last words I heard were, "This is not fine," in his gravelly voice.

Was this Glotzkin douche the Big Bad guy? Seemed kind of weak sauce. But if the plot was going to be helping the girls keep their beach house for the summer, then that was the plot. I shrugged. After a bit more exposition, I was sure all would become clear.

As I hoofed it down the street, munching on a Pop-Tart, the image of Kristi's naked boobs returned to warm my heart. That sight had been a memory for the ages. I shook my head. Every single breast among those girls was a memory for the ages.

Thanks, Candy.

I was filled with the sudden impression that I was doing well, and had deserved a bonus this morning.

Or maybe it had simply been compensation for what I was about to encounter.

"Danny, you little pipsqueak, where have you been?" I heard my uncle's voice before I even saw him. I just kept running and skidded to a stop before him.

"Sorry, Uncle! The bus was late yesterday, and you didn't send me the address. By the time I found where here was, you had all closed up!"

"Ever heard of the Yellow Pages, dingus?" he snarled. He paused and looked at me. "You look pretty cleaned up for having slept on the beach."

"I, um, met some new friends and flopped at their place," I said uninformatively.

"Yeah? Well, you are not here to make new friends," Uncle Chuck growled. "You are here to run my carwash for me!"

"Yes, sir!" I almost shouted, snapping to a parody of attention and snapping off the kind of salute an actor would if he had never enlisted or even thought about it.

Uncle Chuck relaxed marginally and almost smiled at me. "Look, kid. This will be easy... unfortunately. Business is very steady, but also very bad. Just enough to pay the electricity, water, and Mutt and Jeff over there," he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at a tall, good-looking guy about my age, as well as a short, gray-haired old man who looked like he should be running the place, and knew it. "Just don't lose any more business. Ever since that new place, Studebaker's Wash 'n Wipe, opened up across town, I'm just hanging on here."

"I'll see if I can figure out how to get some business back, sir," I said, trying to sound like a go-getter.

"Please," Uncle Chuck said grumpily. "They have a SudsMaster 6000 with the optional cloth rollers. How can I compete with that? All we got going for us and our crappy old Wash-o-Matic 3500 is this location on the main drag. Look, kid, just don't miscount the till, and remember to lock up every night."

"I'll still try to think of something," I insisted.

"Fine," Uncle Chuck scoffed. "Tell you what, Ivan Boesky, business has been flat as my ex-wife's chest for two years now. You increase my business somehow, and I'll split the excess profits with you, 50-50. But dream on." He shook his head at my youthful innocence. "Here's the keys," he said, handing me a keyring. "The red one is for your apartment upstairs."

With that, my mother's older brother turned and hopped into an aging Ford Thunderbird, peeling out of the lot with mariachi music suddenly blaring.

I walked over to the two guys. "Which of you is Mutt and which is Jeff?" I asked innocently.

The older guy rolled his eyes. "I'm Adam," the younger, buff dude said, extending his hand. "I'm guessing that Mutt and Jeff were whoever worked for Chuck before Wade here, and me. Chuck just keeps calling us that."

I shrugged. Sounded about right for Uncle Chuck. Pretty impressive world-building, Candy, to have details like the names of former employees in play.

Wade looked at Adam and me like we both were idiots. "Look, Danny, is it? Just relax. We got this. I keep this old machine running smoothly. Adam wipes down the headlights and the mirrors after the cars come out. You just do your Uncle's back-breaking job of running the cash register. It's time to open."

It all did sound easy, but look. I knew what kind of story we were in, even though no one else did. No way this dipball comedy was going to let my life be smooth and boring. Mr Studebaker, or whoever ran the rival carwash, would be out to get us within five minutes. He and his minions were probably in his office right now, plotting our downfall.

If it wasn't Studebaker, then there wold be some other douchey bad guy. But my money was instantly on Studebaker.

If I was lucky, his chief minion would be a smoking hot older woman who would turn on him at the critical moment, making him hilariously look like an ass and getting herself awesomely naked in the process.

But I could not count on her help, even if this story did have someone like her. Maybe she would not turn on him, and I would have to save the day some other way... humiliating her and getting her awesomely naked in the process.

Suddenly, I was very invested in the hope that Mr. Studebaker would have a hot henchMILF. I sent a mental note to Candy.

And just how bad were things financially, really? I went into the office and looked over the books, in between taking payment from the trickle of customers.

Yeah. Things really were tight, and had been for two years and six months, ever since Studebaker's had opened. Pretty much all the meager profits from operations over the summer would be going to me. Or toward my expenses, to be precise. I had only a minimum wage salary, but Mom had made Uncle Chuck promise to cover my room and board.

All I was getting out of this job was a bullet point on my resumé and a summer on the beach.

I thought of the ten best nipples I had ever seen in person and decided this was totally a great exchange. Maybe the best salary in the history of capitalism...

But nothing from my finance degree (when I was alive) was going to help here. The only expense that could be cut was the salary Uncle Chuck paid himself, and I sensed he might have thoughts if I cut his pay...

No, cuts were out, so I needed more revenue, but how I was going to accomplish that in the face of the overwhelming competitive advantage of a SudsMaster 6000, I had no idea.

The first hour ticked by uneventfully, but shortly thereafter, the little front office where I worked was suddenly filled with bright bikinis and glorious tanned skin. The girls milled around the office, beach bags over their shoulders, chattering excitedly as if there was anything at all interesting about a counter, a cash register, two slightly broken chairs, a rusted-over, empty, and non-functional beverage cooler, and a not quite awe-inspiring display of air fresheners. It wasn't truly a montage, since the PA speakers did not start suddenly blaring pop music, and even Ginny managed to avoid a wardrobe malfunction, but I would take it.

"Hey guys," I managed to say at last. "Did you work things out with your landlord?"

They all got much less excited and looked at each other.

"Yeah," Kristi sighed. "We came to an amicable agreement. He let us have five minutes to pack up what we could, and we let him lock us out until we can pay our back rent and another month's rent in advance."

"What?" I yelped. "He threw you out and kept all your stuff?"

"That part's not so bad," Bambi shrugged. "We got all our bikinis in our bags at least, and what else do we need to wear?" I looked at Daisy and Kristi, expecting those two at least to roll their eyes at Bambi's usual naivety, but they both just nodded as if she had a good point.

"So..." Daisy started to say, but Kristi cut her off.

"But we'll handle it, Danny," my 'bedmate' from last night said confidently. "We want to see your business! Show us around!"

I took them on the five-minute tour of the carwash and introduced them to Adam and Wade. Wade looked weary, and Adam looked pretty much like I had, the first time I laid eyes on this group of babes.

"It's all so impressive," Kristi said, managing some impressive, wide-eyed sincerity for that obvious lie. "So, listen," she went on, drawing a finger down my arm. I was pretty sure that this was the first time she had touched me in any way, and my body darn near convulsed. "We were thinking, maybe, since you are the boss, you could hire us, or at least some of us, to work here? We obviously could use the money."

I was met with five pairs of wide, gorgeous eyes, looking at me expectantly.

I sagged. What an opportunity! But...

"Sorry, girls," I said in anguish. "I just had the chance to look over the books. I do not have the business to justify all the wages that we pay already!"

"Awww," Bambi pouted. Bambi had a megaton pout.

"We could really use the money," Kristi wheedled. She was trying to manipulate me, I knew it, and I was aching to be manipulated. But there was nothing I could do.

"I know. And I'd love to help," I said with more anguish. "But I can't raise prices because of our competitor. They have taken most of our business already, and charging more would give them the rest!"

"So, if you had more business, you could hire us?" Daisy asked seriously.

"Some of you, I guess," I shrugged. "But I've been racking my brain about that and I have no ideas."

"Not a problem. Just hire at least a couple of us to stand out by the street with signs saying 'carwash here'. Pretty girls in bikinis are the preferred marketing gambit for every church and school carwash event in history," Daisy shrugged.

Kristi chuckled. It was a low, sexy sound that put my, well, several things on edge. "And you could hire the rest of us to work in back, to hand detail cars for an extra charge..."

"Oh, guys would definitely pay for that," Maisy giggled.

"Great idea!" Daisy jumped back in. "'Bikini Detailing' will be a more attractive service offering than just 'Bikini Carwash'."

My mind raced. First off, this sounded exactly like what Candy would like to have happen. Secondly, it might well work. But...

"The problem is, there is still no cash in the bank to hire you with," I said, sagging.

"Okay, I have a business proposition for you," Daisy said firmly. "We'll split all the extra profits with you, 50-50, in place of you paying us."

"Yeah! We'll be partners," Kristi piled on, grabbing my arm. Ginny joined her and grabbed my other arm. This was remarkably effective as a negotiating ploy, given the way both of them had a breast pressed against me. Now my glasses were fogging up... Bambi sealed the deal by jumping up and down excitedly.

Uncle Chuck could not object to the deal, because we were out no money, up front or otherwise. The girls would get half the new profits to use to get back into their house. And I would get half of the carwash's other half, meaning I could at least get my Cash stat back up to Fun Money level, if not higher.

"We'll start right after lunch," I announced, trying to sound decisive.

There was much rejoicing. The rejoicing came with lots of excited bouncing up and down.

"Hey! We still have a few minutes before lunch," Kristi said, an idea on her face. "Let's see your exciting Boss Man bachelor pad that comes with your job."

"You know," I said with a smile. "I haven't seen it yet myself. Let's go take a look." I grabbed my keys and went outside to the exterior stairs that led up to my accommodations, just a little excited to have my own place.

The girls followed along, though why they were so excited to be seeing it was beyond me.

I unlocked the door, and I was no longer excited once I saw it.

My palatial manager's apartment was... a room. It had bare cinderblock walls, painted a 70's avocado green. A small bathroom was visible through a narrow door in the back wall, the rest of which was covered by a counter that represented my kitchen, with a two-burner cooktop, a sink, a toaster oven, and a fridge.

And there was not a stick of furniture otherwise. All there was were two king-sized mattresses, lying directly on the floor, with sheets thrown haphazardly over them and a pile of pillows. No two pillows or pillowcases matched.

We all stood there and looked around in silence. I thought I heard that slide whistle again. Or maybe it was a sad trombone sound...

"I guess I won't be entertaining much," I tried to joke.

"Yeah," Kristi said dejectedly. "We were kind of hoping to stay with you until we raised the money we need," she added sadly.

Daaaaaarn!

"Well, you are welcome to stay, if you can handle all this opulence," I said, trying another joke to cover the sudden intense pain at the thought of how close I had just come...

"Really? Yay!" exclaimed Bambi. Amazingly, all four other girls acted just as excited. They threw their beach bags in a corner and danced around the space.

"You are the best," Maisy said, and she and Daisy took the opportunity to be the ones to hug me and rub their boobs against me this time. My glasses fogged up again.

"We'll just take a few minutes to tidy this place up, then we will paint some signs and get to work making some money!" Kristi declared.

Ginny pulled out a boombox from her bag and turned it on loud. Another stupid-sounding pop song started playing, and I was bemusedly treated to an Interior Decoration Montage. It was definitely a montage, since Ginny's boob fell out of her top yet again as she was wrestling one of the mattresses into a new position. She tucked it back away quickly, but when the other one fell out a minute later, she just shrugged and left it there for all to see for most of the rest of the whole montage. I guessed she knew it would just fall out again anyway.

How five girls with nothing to their name but the bikinis in their beach bags could make this apartment seem nice-looking over the course of one four-minute song was beyond me. Really, Candy? You sure hit ridiculous on this one, but I thought you also wanted plausible. There was suddenly artwork on the walls, for crying out loud. The beds were made with hospital corners. Most of the pillows suddenly matched.

As the song ended, I noticed that the mattresses were made up sideways. "What's this?" I asked.

"Lucky these mattresses are super-kings," Maisy said. "Like, extra long, you know? We made them up sideways, so we can sleep three to a mattress."

Well, now...

"Well, that might work," I said. "I hope we can have you guys back in your beach house before long!" I added brightly.

"Sure you do," Maisy winked. I just smiled in embarrassment.

My place magically sorted out, we all went back downstairs, and the girls had a quick little party making posterboard signs that said Bikini Detailing in various styles. Once two winners were picked, and the others saved for future days, we all headed out to the front of the place.

Adam was watching very interestedly as I reappeared with my party of hot chicks. Wade looked dubious as he leaned against the exit to the car wash, polishing a wrench or something. "What's up?" Adam asked.

"I hired us some more help," I said, unable not to grin.

"We ain't got enough business for Adam and me to handle," Wade observed accurately.

"That's what the signs are for!" Daisy said, holding one up. She looked among her friends. "Ginny, you and I will stand out here on the sidewalk with the signs for a while first, then we'll rotate," the marketing mastermind said. "Bambi, Kristi, you guys and Maisy head back with the buckets and sponges and get every car good and sudsy before they go through the wash," Daisy further instructed.

"You got it, boss!" Bambi said and snapped to attention. This sent a damn fine bounce through her tits, which was enhanced when she snapped off a salute.

"Danny's the boss," Daisy reminded her. Bambi just turned to face me and repeated the attention and the salute. Thank you, Daisy.

The girls all bounced off to their stations, and Adam and Wade watched them deploy with me.

"Huh. That might work, maybe," Adam said doubtfully.

Wade watched Ginny, or her ass more specifically, as she started waving her sign at passing cars. He looked at Adam like he was an idiot, something I sensed he did a lot anyway. "I guess I better get ready to service the equipment a lot more often," was all he said. He watched Ginny a few moments longer before shaking his head. "Myrtle drives right by here every day after she gets off work," he muttered. "I am so gonna get it when I get home,"

It took about nine seconds for the sign-waving to bear its first fruit.

I noticed a muscle car that slowed down as it passed us when the driver finally registered what he had seen. The car sped up, u-turned, then u-turned again, pulling up beside Daisy on the sidewalk. The window rolled down, and the beach bro driver leaned across to call out the window to her. "Hey, babe! What is bikini detailing?" he asked with a handsome smile.

Daisy lowered her sign and leaned forward toward him, deploying the Mk II Bikini Cleavage Weapon system. "Just pull into the back and some of my friends will give your car a nice sudsy detail before you run through the machine for a spiffy wax job," she said perkily.

"Oh wow," Beach Bro breathed. "My car totally needs a wash," he decided, and pulled swiftly off the street and toward the back. When his car pulled out of the mechanical portion of our service just a bit later, actually looking pretty good, he waved enthusiastically at Daisy and roared away. But not before two more cars had been drawn in by the out front marketing squad.

I found myself in the office, counting cash happily. It was fun.

Daisy popped in. "Danny, this isn't working," she said.

"It's not?" I asked. It could have fooled me!

"I'm going to put Bambi out front, and send Ginny back to suds up cars," Daisy went on.

I thought about that. "Sounds good," I agreed. "Bambi will be effective at marketing..."

Daisy just looked at me. "Yeah," she said sardonically. "Like, that is totally the main reason for switching those two," she added blandly, then left, calling out to Bambi.

I shook my head and wondered what the weird attitude was, then it hit me like a freight train. With Ginny out back, crawling all over cars and scrubbing vigorously while covered in soapsuds, there was no way the Queen of Wardrobe Malfunctions would not continue to reign.

I managed to stay at my post for at least a solid minute before I just had to duck out back to take a look.

Sure enough, on the second car she worked on, Ginny's boob popped free. I was starting to love that boob. It was my favorite because it was the one that broke free more often. The guys in the car she was working on whooped loudly.

Maisy was working on the same car, and when she noticed, she coughed and pointed at the situation. Ginny giggled and tucked it back in. The dudes in the car moaned. Ginny heard them, smiled and made up for it by mashing her tits all over the drivers side window.

When Ginny moved on to help Kristi with the next car, the other boob put in an appearance. Maybe I loved that one more, given its relative rarity. I shook my head and went back to the register to count more cash.

We had a line all afternoon, and did three days' worth of business in just that time.

When we closed, Kristi announced that they were taking me out for burgers to celebrate a great day.

"I thought you guys were broke?" I asked.

"We got a few decent tips back there today," Kristi said. "Especially Ginny."

"I know! Weird, right?" Ginny exclaimed, as if she genuinely had no idea why she had gotten more tips than the others.

Dinner was good. We all had a good time, and I popped for dessert. But when we went back to my basically unfurnished apartment, I got my first disappointment of the awesome day. The girls all declared, having all taken turns detailing, that they were far too clean to waste water on showers.

The drought, you know.

"I'm tired anyway," Daisy yawned. "It was hard work."

I had no such protection from my daily dirt, and went to take a shower myself. I almost left the door open, just to set a precedent, but I chickened out.

When I came out, all five girls were already in bed, three on one mattress, and two on the other. Ginny and Bambi were on the second mattress, with a large gap ostentatiously open between them.

My box of clothes had arrived by UPS earlier, so I was wearing my pajamas. The girls had all chosen to sleep in fresh bikinis. That were all they had, but while in the shower, my brain had been filled with images of them all sleeping in the nude or at least in negligées. But even Kristi clearly had a top on.

Ah, well.

I went to the second mattress and lay down on it, between Bambi and Ginny, but on top of the sheet. "Oh, get under the covers, Danny," Bambi demanded sleepily.

So there I lay on my back, ramrod straight, arms at my sides, praying my hands would behave themselves as I slept. If I slept...

But I was woken up what felt like immediately, though with morning sunlight streaming in through the windows, by a fabulous smell. I opened my eyes and saw Kristi bending over me. That image snapped me fully awake, I can tell you. She was waving a delicious-smelling doughnut in my face. When she saw I was awake, she called out loudly, "Wake up everybody! I snuck out and bought doughnuts, we have a busy day! We only have three weeks to pay Glotzkin, or he sells all our stuff and rents out the house to someone else!"

There was a flurry of activity and doughnut eating, then we were all out the door and heading for another day in the trenches. Poor, poor, pitiful me.

Wade was already at the shop, and stared at me coming down the stairs with all five girls. He shook his head. I walked over to him. "I told you Myrtle would not be impressed with what's going on here," he said to me drily. "Fortunately, I had the sense to spend some of my tip money on flowers for her. Did you know the girls were including me and Adam in their tip pool?"

I did not know that, but the generosity seemed very much on brand for them.

I realized quickly that word was getting around. We had a steady stream of customers before we had been open for half an hour. I recognized one car from the day before coming back again.

I wandered out back and saw a Mercedes getting its rub-down. Ginny produced not one but two wardrobe malfunctions while sudsing it up. She had chosen what had to be her smallest top that day.

The dude tipped her an obscene amount. Maisy just shook her head in disbelief.

But the next car was a really nice Lincoln, with the first good-looking older man I had seen since becoming Peterbilt Pizza behind the wheel. Maisy made a snap judgment and whipped her top completely off, using it as her scrub rag!

Free-hanging fake boobs are something to see, swaying around surprisingly convincingly as their owner vigorously rubbed down the hood of a car, moving in time with loud music. It was a continuous mini-montage back there.

Ginny just looks at Maisy and giggled, "Duh! That's genius! I won't have to worry about falling out that way." She tugged at her bikini, and it swung loosely between her breasts as she scrubbed the car. She didn't bother to take it off until they moved to the next car. The tipping had been equally heavy.

I looked at Kristi, hopefully. But she just shook her head in amusement. Oddly, neither other girl seemed interested in questioning her on the subject either. Oh yeah, Kristi was That Girl. I'd actually seen her tits briefly, but maybe that scene had just been for me, not the story...

Thanks again, Candy!

I went back into the office and resumed counting our takings. I kind of got silly about going through all the cash, even tossing a handful in the air. I realized that I was part of the montage...

Everybody used cash. There had been not a single credit card transaction, even though we had a slide thingy to manually take an impression.

The 80s were weird.

I saw the clock on the wall and noticed it was time to remind the girls to shift around. I ducked out back and called out, "Time to send somebody up front and bring someone back here!"

Kristi looked up at me. "Thanks, Danny! Ginny, go up front and relax with a sign. Send Bambi back here to wash for a while," she instructed. Ginny wiped her brow and looked glad to take a break. She headed out front. "Put your top back on, Ginny!" Kristi called after her almost desperately. Ginny just giggled and retrieved her top, then scampered off toward the front.

I could not help it. I stayed and waited for Bambi.

She came sauntering back behind the building. "Time to get wet and sudsy!" she caroled happily. Then she stopped and stared at Maisy, scrubbing away topless. "Oh," she said, standing rooted to the spot. "So that's why the tips are so much higher today," she mused, light dawning in her eyes. She shrugged. "Makes sense," she said, and casually whipped off her top. Seeing those breasts would never get old. Ever.

But they did present a momentary traffic hazard as two cars in line almost ran into each other as both drivers were, um, distracted.

Kristi still did not move her top at all. Her plot armor or no nudity trope gave her immunity from anyone, customer and fellow detailer alike, even seeming to notice. I sure as heck noticed, but I was not about to say anything. The three girls fell into a pattern. Maisy and Bambi worked over the front two-thirds of each car, where the driver and any passengers (there were an increasing number of cars coming through with all seats filled) could get the best look. Kristi would work on the back end, which meant her splendid ass, the best ass among all these stellar asses, would provide a compelling coming attractions reel for the car behind. We increasingly had times where there was a wait, but there were never complaints...

When it was finally time to close, the tip jar was overflowing, and Kristi doled the bills out to the girls, Adam, and Wade. Wade immediately decided to leave and do some serious shopping for Myrtle, who had driven by again today.

It was Saturday night, and the carwash did not open until two hours later than normal on Sundays. "We can sleep in tomorrow," Kristi announced. "It's time we went ahead and had our beach campfire tonight!"

"Party!" caroled Bambi and Ginny.

"You should come, too, Adam," Daisy said, grabbing our co-worker's arm.

"Wait? Me?" Adam gulped hilariously.

"Sure! You have to come," Maisy encouraged, grabbing his other arm. "You are part of the team!"

Adam looked about to panic, but the facts that we were standing around in back, Maisy and Daisy had both been detailing back there at the end, and neither had bothered with their top yet, made their argument... arguments particularly powerful.

Suddenly, there was one of those weird time slips where nothing happens that was important or titillating, and hours just flickered by. I found myself trooping down to the beach with a big cooler in my arms. Adam was behind me with a heavy armful of firewood. The girls were in front of us, which I'm sure suited Adam as much as it did me, each carrying some minor load of snacks, or a radio, or something. It was almost dark.

Adam and I built a fire, and we settled in. Another time slip came and went, but not so fast this time that I did not have pleasant memories of talking and laughing about some of the more outrageous customers of the day, roasting hot dogs, and drinking a few beers from the cooler.

As the evening went on, I noticed more and more that Daisy and Maisy both hung around, or even on, Adam more and more. With his heavy blue uniform jumpsuit left behind, wearing just some short, close-fitting, swim trunks, Adam was, as I had expected, a bit of a hunk.

Meanwhile, scrawny me sat across from him over the fire, with my thick, dark-framed glasses and cruddy hair. I kept waiting for the rest of the girls to go hang off of Adam as well, but they mostly hung out nearer to me.

Giving Maisy and Daisy their room to maneuver, I guessed.

And suddenly, maneuver they did.

"Wow, Adam," Daisy said, rolling her head against his shoulder. "Look at all the stars!"

There really was an extraordinary number of stars visible above us. In the Southern California sky, there should have been only about three stars visible, between the auto and the light pollution.

"Yeah," Maisy said, squeezing his hand. "Let's get away from the fire to see them even better."

Adam might have still been nervous around the girls, but it took very little effort for these two to drag him to his feet and lead him off into the darkness.

"Two girls for every boy..." I sang with a snort.

Ginny giggled. "That's funny! I've never heard that song before."

Really? Must have cost too much to get clearance for authentic Beach Boys in this world.

Less than a minute later, Bambi popped to her feet. Watching her move in any way was always fun. "I think I need to take a walk after that whole hot dog," she announced. "Anyone want to come with?"

Neither Kristi nor Ginny answered right away, so I volunteered. "I'll come," I said, getting up. "Wouldn't want you to walk alone in the dark." It all seemed sadly innocent, but hey, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? The other two girls went on with their conversation as Bambi and I wandered off into the dark outside the campfire's light.

"Like, totally thank you, Danny," Bambi said after we had gone a little distance.

"Uh, for what?" I asked.

"Oh, like, totally doing all this with your carwash. Letting us crash at your place. We'd be so messed over without you," she said chirpily.

"Well, you guys had pity on me when I first got here and let me stay at your place first," I said. "And we are all making good money, right?"

"Still, you've been super nice," Bambi reasserted.

I realized that she was walking right next to me. The girls all always walked fairly close to me when we went anywhere, but that seemed to be more because we were such a big group, and they had to stick close for us all to fit on the sidewalk. Or in the camera frame. Whatever. But this was just me and Bambi... If the two of us were in a camera frame, then there was a whole lot of inky darkness to each side of us, and none between.

I checked my character sheet for an instant. Yep. My Game stat was still 'meager'.

But I was pretty much in a constant state of medium to highly horny all the time by this point. And walking in the dark with Bambi once again had me at the upper end of that range. She was so sweet, if not the sharpest tool in the shed. Honestly, she was really just not subtle as opposed to dumb. She was very considerate, once she knew you were a person. She seemed very well-disposed toward me. And she was hot as the sun.

Forget what my Game stat is. And forget any elaborate game to approach Bambi. I decided to just count on the circumstances and pray to Candy. I slid my arm lightly around Bambi's waist, since I did not even have to close the distance between us to manage that.

"Well, you guys are making this a great Summer for me," I said, as if I had not done what I just had.

Bambi did not pull away. Instead, she leaned in against me, snuggling into my arm. Good lord, was she a wonderful armful. Her body was warm in the cool night air, and her skin was supple and lush under my fingers. I pulled her in tight as she went on with our conversation as if I had done nothing.

"The moon makes a pretty reflection on the water, right?" she said, pointing across my body at the calm Pacific. This resulted in one of those amazingly engineered breasts pressing against my chest briefly, so I was highly inclined to agree.

We kept talking as we walked, but then Bambi slowed to a stop. I obviously did too, since I was not moving my arm from around her for anything. She turned a little bit toward me again, granting me another of those boob brushings in the process. "Are you gonna, like, kiss me, Danny?" she asked me blandly, sort of as if there was a phone ringing and I wasn't answering it.

I might have a bad Game stat, but I recognized the opportunity of a lifetime when it came along. After-lifetime. Whatever.

She was basically as tall as I, and it was a matter of simply turning my head to put my lips on hers. They were soft. And plump. And they were eager to respond. We flowed slowly into a more and more intense kiss. Neither of us seemed to need to involve tongues for some reason, but we were definitely trying to inhale each other. Her arms were firmly around me, and my hands rested on her hips, pulling her toward me. My fingertips pointed down, not just touching the band of her thong bikini bottom, but reaching right over it and resting on the bare flesh of her upper butt. Those breasts crushed against my chest.

My erection bulged out the front of my suit and pressed against Bambi. She pressed back lightly, clearly recognizing it, but not drawing attention to it.

We broke off the kiss for some air. I could see a brilliant smile on her face, and the moonlight twinkled in her wide eyes.

"Danny Tremaine," Bambi said... Wait! I had a last name? And I found out what it was from Bambi? "Did you know that you have a nice butt?"

"What?" I laughed. "Come on. I do not." Scrawny, remember?

"No! You do," Bambi giggled. "I mean, it's like not all meaty and everything like most nice butts. But it is cute. "Every time I see it," she added in a playful whisper, "I just want to grab it!" And she grabbed my butt!

I jumped, but she held on and squeezed. Wow, did that feel good. I kissed her again. And yeah, my hands slid down to grab her beyond nice backside. Glorious.

We kissed some more for a while, massaging each other's asses, but then Bambi released me. I had only a moment to be utterly heartbroken before everything got better. She moved her hands behind her back, and I felt the fabric of her bikini top go slack between us. She had undone the back! Then she grabbed it where it went around her neck and lifted it off over her head.

I had seen them before, with magical zoom vision, even. But no zoom was needed this time. The most amazing breasts ever just hung there before me. So generous, they hung with an utterly natural shape, which was impossible for their size. The surgeon deserved a Nobel Prize for medicine.

The size and shape of those breasts was so mesmerizing, it would have been easy to ignore the nipples, except they were equally off the charts. Placed perfectly, tilting slightly upward with the way her boobs hung, the field of each was a dark rosy mauve and about the size of a half-dollar coin. The dark flesh was crinkled and sprinkled with tiny goosebumps. It also tightened inward toward nipples that were rigid and rising upward as if they were trying to claw their way toward me.

It is a measure of their sheer majesty that I was able to remove my hands from her butt. But release that fabulous backside I did, lifting my hands between us to cup the treasure hanging there. Bambi shivered lightly at my touch and wordlessly leaned an inch or so into my grasp. I caressed their surface in wonder, feeling the softness of her flesh and the taut, perfect skin.

I gently squeezed, and Bambi's head rolled back in pleasure, a light sigh escaping her lips.

Wait. I squeezed again, a little firmer. Then again, massaging her breasts deeply. She lifted her head back upright and smiled at me, biting her lip.

These were real! There was no artificial core to these breasts. They were all Bambi. These were not boobs, they were miracles!

Well freaking done, Candy!

It occurred to me that Candy's were somehow even better than Bambi's, but my mind shied away from the earth-shattering implications of that.

Why, thank you.

I had to be careful what I thought about Candy, or I would get into trouble eventually. Unfortunately, now that I was thinking about Candy's body, it was darned hard to stop. Fortunately, I had in my arms and in my hands what it took to wrench my brain back to the here and now.

I bent to kiss those breasts, to suck on them. My lips ran over their perfect surface, my hands still cupping and massaging eagerly. These nipples were so perfect, I wanted, no, I needed to suckle on them like a child. But I just kept kissing my way around them, and everywhere else on those beautiful edifices. But I just didn't suck on them, and certainly not in the extravagant, sloppy manner I desired.

Oh, yeah.

Softcore.

My jaw trembled in frustration, but I resolved to enjoy what I got.

Oh, no!!!!

Softcore.

Was this as far as I was going to get? Just this epic makeout session, then fade to black? Or fade to blue, as in blue balls...

Candy wouldn't do that to me, would she?

I thought furiously, my kisses and squeezes of those breasts not missing a beat as I did so. Softcore had a pretty wide range, honestly, from movies where this was possibly already a bit more than you'd ever get, to productions with some pretty full-on simulated sex. There would definitely be no crazy, over-the-top maneuvers. But depending on the era, I might not end up with the bluest balls ever.

Please let this be a comedy sort of set in the 80s, not an actual 80s production...

As if in answer to my prayers, I felt a wonderful thing. I was still playing with Bambi's tits, keeping the camera's focus, if you will, but below, I suddenly felt her hand massaging my bulge.

Oh, please...

She twisted slightly, and I felt her tug on my suit's waistband and push it down. It fell to my ankles, and I kicked free, finding myself naked on a public beach that was somehow utterly deserted on a summer Saturday night. Bambi tugged upward on my chin, lifting my face so she could kiss me again. Then she kissed my shoulder and sank to her knees.

My eyes rolled back in my head, and my face took on a particularly goofy expression as I felt but did not see my dong slip between Bambi's lips. Her tongue flicked around my tip in welcome, then snuggled against me as she slid me deeper.

My eyes bugged out even further, and I felt almost panicked at how good this was.

Then I realized that the focus was all on my face, and how funny I looked. That meant, as long as I kept looking like a funny dork, this activity could continue. I let every ounce of the blowjob-induced stupidity I felt show on my face.

Below, Bambi bobbed her head. Her efforts were completely silent. There were no slurps or smacks. Just a silent act of supreme skill, deniably off-camera and off-mic. I worked my jaw in desperation, wanting to keep looking silly enough to keep this going.

But no matter how stupid I looked, I guess it wasn't entertaining enough to go on for long. Bambi stood up again, and we embraced as we resumed our kiss. My hardness pressed into her belly, and she pressed back.

I wanted to return the favor in the worst way, but I could immediately tell that wasn't going to happen. The whole experience might be liberal enough to allow for suggested head, but not for suggested eating out. But I figured that since I had already seen a bare butt or five, I could at least peel that thong bottom off of Bambi.

Yeah, that was certainly allowed, and I could almost feel the story's focus on her fantastic butt as I peeled the thong down. I massaged it deeply. Even if this was all she and I did, it was the best sex I'd ever had.

But no. Bambi kissed me harder, then pulled me downward. I suddenly found myself lying naked atop her on the sand. She was on her back, and her breasts stood proud on her chest, thrusting upward with that magical structural integrity.

I guessed 'simulated' sex was on the table after all.

Please, don't let this somehow just be simulated...

But she slid her legs apart, and I felt my junk slide between them. She was soaking wet down there, and I slid naturally inside. She sighed prettily, and I whispered, "Oh, Bambi. You are amazing!"

I found myself thrusting gently, pumping in and out of her in a soft series of movements, but keeping myself mostly buried within her. From a distance, with our bodies pressed together like this, an observer would not have been able to tell for sure if I was inside her or not.

But I sure knew. And she knew. Her body was wildly alive beneath me, not making any extravagant thrashing movements, but it twitched wonderfully, and her insides clenched desperately around me. My thrusts looked subtle but were powerful.

I grabbed a breast again and held on desperately as I worked in and out of Bambi. One of her hands splayed out against the sand, while the other wrapped around the small of my back.

For once, the weird time-jump effect eased a bit in my favor. Things skipped quickly, but I still experienced riding her for a long, glorious time, and reaching a simultaneous, shattering climax where we each made our first, but very loud noises as I felt myself jet deep inside Bambi, my body wracked with spasms of pleasure.

Wow. Not only did I have a bigger dick in this world, but its product was a lot more voluminous, too. I could tell as I kept jetting into her heat over and again.

And Bambi could certainly tell how much I filled her with! It wasn't subtle, nor was her appreciation.

But that pleasure, and that fabulous release, all happened in that timeslip field where everything happened in a flash, as if not wanted for the story or something.

But I remembered the sensations. I always will.

So far, so good, Danny...

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I love isekai stories. I love this premise. Please, please, tell me you love it too. Your comments make the writing worthwhile. Actually, the writing of stuff this fun is worthwhile on its own. Your comments make all the work of my half-assed editing worthwhile. For length, I decided to break Danny's first assignment into two productions. Stay tuned for the sequel, Bikini Detailing 2!