We were alone, forgotten in the rush.Pretty quick, Simone backed out of the hole. She was shirtless and clutching her shirt to her chest. "I couldn't ...eave them," she said. "I'm full of sand. Hold them for me while I brush off." And she handed me her shirt, her find wrapped in it. "And don't look!"Too late. Twin pink capped tanned but sandy peaks firmly bounced before my eyes. "34C." I thought I thought."32D, and I asked you not to peek." When two of natures beauties reveal themselves to me?. She looked critically in the full length mirror, noticing for the millionth time, the blemish of a small brown mole at the corner of her left eye. She was not pretty, she thought, couldn't be described as a beauty by any standards, but she was passable, could hold her own in a crowd; at least Bill thought so when he joked it would need to be a large crowd. After nearly twenty years married, his jokes all sounded the same, worn and dated, same as their conversation, their sex life and pretty. More

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