Barocca vs Charmaine Sinclair
VS
Surf & Turf
Charmaine Sinclair rose from the gentle surf holding an enormous conch shell she'd scavenged from the seabed only a few meters out. Not normally a collector, she thought this shell would make the perfect souvenir of her perfect tropical vacation. She scanned the empty beachfront and was delighted she had it all to herself again this morning. As she had done every day since discovering this isolated cove, Charmaine rose at dawn to walk the kilometer or so from her resort cabaña through the "jungle" (actually, just a stretch of palm trees and tall, dense tropical flora) to enjoy the solitude of this hectare of paradise. As usual, she was free to go topless, as she was now, or even totally nude if the mood struck her, without attracting disapproving stares from other tourists.
Charmaine Sinclair rose from the gentle surf holding an enormous conch shell she'd scavenged from the seabed only a few meters out. Not normally a collector, she thought this shell would make the perfect souvenir of her perfect tropical vacation. She scanned the empty beachfront and was delighted she had it all to herself again this morning. As she had done every day since discovering this isolated cove, Charmaine rose at dawn to walk the kilometer or so from her resort cabaña through the "jungle" (actually, just a stretch of palm trees and tall, dense tropical flora) to enjoy the solitude of this hectare of paradise. As usual, she was free to go topless, as she was now, or even totally nude if the mood struck her, without attracting disapproving stares from other tourists.
"So who are you supposed to be?" a voice startled her from the lush tropical brush that concealed Charmaine's cove from the tourist resort. The female voice continued, "Ursula Andres or Halle Berry?" The busty British beauty instantly made the connection: her stroll from the water must have reminded her hidden observer of the two James Bond girls from Dr. No and Die Another Day. Charmaine froze in the ankle-deep water and scanned the shore while shielding her glistening gazongas with her souvenir. The shell wasn't sufficient, but the gesture was instinctive.
Silence…save for the whispered roar of the soft surf. Stillness…save for the tropical breeze gently swaying the palms and thick, verdant shrubs. "You put me among good company," she called to her secret admirer. "You flatter me. Now if you'd be so kind as to show yourself, I can thank you proper…and perhaps return the compliment." A few seconds passed before a tall, dark-skinned, raven-haired lovely emerged from the leafy plants not far from Charmaine's beach towel.
"My name is Barocca," she proudly stated, rolling the "R" deliciously. "And if I'm not mistaken, you're the famous Charmaine Sinclair. I've heard of you but I've never had the pleasure."
"I've heard about you, too: the Brazilian Bombshell, and something of a lady wrestler" Charmaine said, lowering the conch shell. She felt more comfortable topless in the company of another member of the adult entertainment industry. Barocca wore a tiny leopard skin bikini that appeared to be made of genuine pelts. Her eyes hid behind sunglasses that were as perfectly round and seemed nearly as huge as her amplified breasts. Charmaine resumed her way to her towel and beckoned Barocca to join her. "What brings you here?"
"I'm on a vacation," the Brazilian replied, her expression blank behind her inky lenses. "I started coming her a few years ago and I return every year."
"No, I mean here, to this cove. You can't see it from the resort-I assume you're staying there."
"Yes, I have a lovely cabaña away from the others. As for this lovely cove, a guy I met on my first visit, an islander, brought me here. We spent a lot of time here, all by ourselves."
Sounds familiar, Charmaine thought, remembering her own introduction to the hideaway last year. At the end of last year's holiday, her first here, she had been led to this secluded spot by one of the locals, a well-hung young stud who knew his way with women as though he had a PhD in sex from Fuck U. For all of Charmaine's experience, this guy still managed to show her some new positions and techniques that brought her back to the island again this year for a refresher course. She passed all the tests…especially her orals. But now, for her final two days, she wanted time to herself.
However, Charmaine didn't mind Barocca's company, She was always up for some girl talk, and the busty Brazilian should have plenty of stories to share. By the time the taller woman had set up her spread next to Charmaine's, the English lass had air-dried almost completely. Only her long black hair and colorful brief thong remained damp. Barocca followed her example by removing the open-weave wrap from her hips and popping her top, letting her spherical boobies breathe free.
For nearly an hour they chatted about their backgrounds and their careers, pausing now and then to spread baby oil on each other, a perfect excuse to feel each other up and share a sexual thrill. Barocca commented about how she admired Charmaine's natural bust and trim figure. Charmaine remarked about how spectacular Barocca's enhanced bosom looked and how she envied the Brazilian's ultra-slim waist. The women were just as obsessed with each other's tits and asses as their male fans were.
Eventually the conversation wound around to the legions of men in their lives, both professionally and personally. And their early suspicions were confirmed when they discovered that it was the very same island gigolo who led each of them to this secret cove. The verified that he's been fucking them both-and probably countless others-on this beach ever since he first popped a woodie. Charmaine and Barocca laughed and conceded that the way was good-no, great-but neither could suppress that inevitable twinge of jealous rivalry that began to gnaw within.
Charmaine changed the subject to wrestling. She was curious and took the opportunity to quiz the expert Barocca about it. The Bombshell quickly saw where this was headed and soon playfully suggested that she demonstrate a few holds on Charmaine, who jumped at the offer. Barocca led her new friend by the hand to an unobstructed level stretch of sand near the water, tossed a few shells out of their way, and began the demonstration. She showed Charmaine some basic holds by applying then to her with little or no force. Then she let Charmaine apply them to her so she'd get the feel of each hold.
Charmaine caught on quickly, but holds are rather static. Soon they graduated to maneuvers, slowly at first because Barocca was uncertain about how much pain Charmaine could absorb. Ms Sinclair was eager to progress, though, and urged the Brazilian not to baby her. Barocca complied by hiptossing Charmaine onto the soft, warm sand. Charmaine responded by monkeyflipping Barocca when she approached to help her up.
"You learn fast," Barocca laughed, brushing sand from her big boobs. As she did, she noticed that her nipples had popped to full attention; "hooter hard-ons" one of her lovers had called them.
"I have a good teacher," Charmaine grinned. She helped Barocca up and kissed her full on the mouth. Their second kiss was open-mouthed with lots of tongue. Barocca could feel Charmaine's stiff nipples poking into the soft undersides of her own bountiful breasts as the English lass tightened her embrace.
Cupping Charmaine's casabas and teasing her nipples with her thumbs, Barocca stared into her dark brown eyes. "Wrestling is a contact sport."
Charmaine squeezed Barocca's firm ass cheeks and breathed, "Contact." Without further conversation, the embrace became a lock-up. Charmaine attempted a twisting armbar but the veteran instantly converted that to a wrenching hammerlock that arched the newbie's back and thrust her luscious tits forward. The sunshine and the exertion had coated the girls' bodies with a glistening patina of perspiration. Barocca playfully cranked Charmaine's trapped arm before she buckled Charmaine's knees and sent her to the sand face-down. The Latina maintained the lock all the way down. Charmaine wiggled and squirmed until Barocca mercifully released her.
But mercy wasn't her true motivation. The fight was over; Barocca could have held her opponent like that indefinitely. Her instinct to win was overruled by her lesbian lust. Barocca wanted nothing more than to grapple with this gorgeous girl until each was exhausted from a long series of draining orgasms. Charmaine was equally aroused and welcomed this new opportunity to play some more with her new girl-toy.
This time Barocca let Charmaine get the upper hand. She quickly wound up flat on her back with Charmaine sitting on her belly applying a schoolboy pin…but with her hands on Barocca's tits. "No, Charmaine, you have to pin my shoulders."
"I like this way much better. Besides, I'm not quite ready to end this battle."
Barocca lay still and enjoyed Charmaine kneading her knockers for a few minutes until she had a satisfying orgasm. Nothing spectacular; Charmaine probably hadn't even noticed. But an orgasm is an orgasm and this was just the first of many to come.
Barocca smiled slyly ant Charmaine before bucking her off and taking control of their tussle. During the exchange, the veteran vixen snatched off Charmaine's multi-colored thong, shocking her until Barocca reminded her that they were alone and beyond the sight of the other resort guests. To prove her point, the bawdy Brazilian slipped out of her own cum-soaked leopard thong and tossed it nonchalantly toward their towels.
The action resumed with both naked nymphs flipping and tossing each other on the golden sand. Charmaine caught on fast but Barocca was always in complete control, graciously allowing her opponent to dominate-or to seem to-for as long as it suited her. Charmaine armwhipped Barocca, but with no ropes to catch her, she stumbled along the shifting sand until she finally fell. Charmaine was on her instantly, gathering up her long legs for a textbook-perfect monkeyflip. But when the newcomer tried for an instant replay, Barocca tangled her up, eventually trapping Charmaine in a painful and immobilizing figure-4 leglock. This time Barocca turned on the full pressure to give her friend a taste of the real thing.
As waves of ecstasy-and occasionally pain-swept over the rowdy wrestlers, they failed to notice that the ocean was also growing restless. The sea waves swept farther up the secluded beach and with increasing force, the forewarning of an approaching tropical storm. So focused were the warrior women on their sexy struggles that they didn't notice the encroaching tide until Barocca flipped Charmaine over her head and she landed with a splat in a few inches of briny water. Suddenly aware of the forces of nature, the friendly fighters froze for a few seconds-until a big incoming wave buried them momentarily, knocking Barocca off her feet and dragging Charmaine several yards out to sea as it receded. The elements literally put a damper on the girls' festivities.
Before the next wave could strike, they had scampered back to their towels and were grabbing up their belongings. Giggling and squealing like schoolgirls, they ran through the lush tropical brush until, about halfway to the safety of the resort, Charmaine abruptly halted and blurted out, "We can't go back like this. We're stark naked."
They hurriedly sorted through their hastily gathered belongings when the sky opened up and dumped what Charmaine thought was surely a monsoon on them. "When did it turn so fucking dark?" Barocca yelled over the pouring rain and the howling wind.
"Where's my damn top?" Charmaine wondered, rummaging through her huge beach bag crammed with all her essentials. Spotting the colorful fabric, she triumphantly held it aloft and exulted, "Aha! Here it is-No! That's the bottom," just as a fierce gust of wind tore the tiny remnant from her grasp and carried it from view.
"You know, we're idiots," Barocca hollered, stuffing her jumbo juggs into her leopard top. "We already got drenched by that huge wave, so why are we trying to avoid the rain? We can't get any wetter than we already are." The two bedraggled beauties laughed as Barocca shook out her beach towel, now heavy with water, and searched in vain for her thong. Charmaine had similar luck (none) finding anything at all with which to cover herself. Barocca handed her a dripping yellow rag that turned out to be a cutoff T-shirt. "It's better than nothing," the Brazilian apologetically offered.
Charmaine struggled into the clingy shirt, which adhered to her upper torso like saran. Stretched over her impressive rack, it was quite translucent when wet. Taking her cue from Barocca, she also wrapped a thoroughly sopping beach towel around her waist. Most of the rest of their gear had scattered with the wind or been trampled into the mud, so the soaked sexbombs collected what remained and trudged back to the resort. "My cabin's closer," Charmaine volunteered. "And at least I still have my key," which she jangled for proof.
The waterlogged lovelies paused at Charmaine's door long enough to observe that from their knees down they were layered with think mud and a heavy coating of sand. "To the shower," Barocca prescribed, wiping her feet as best she could. Heading straight to the bathroom, Charmaine gasped, "No towels. The maid mustn't have been here yet. Barocca, you go first and I'll ring up the front desk for fresh towels."
Barocca didn't have to be told twice. In less than a minute she had discarded her towel skirt, shed her leopard skin, and begun soaping up under the water spray. Within another minute her hostess's head popped through the shower curtain. "Join me," the lathered Latina invited. "We can scrub each other's backs. And fronts."
"Not just yet, love," Charmaine demurred. "I have to wait for the clean towels to be delivered. Shouldn't take long. I'll just slip into my robe so I don't have to greet the maid in my birthday suit."
"Nonsense. Why get your robe all yucky? I'm almost finished. C'mon in and I'll get the towels when they arrive." Barocca's plan made sense so Charmaine stripped down and stepped in. She helped her guest rinse off while Barocca made sure that not so much as a square millimeter of Charmaine's back, ass, boobs, or pussy wasn't thoroughly soaped. Then with a quick kiss, the Brazilian babe stepped out of the shower, saying, "To be continued."
Charmaine smiled with anticipation as she quickly cleaned up. She imagined Barocca slipping into her immodestly short kimono, answering the door, and getting the surprise Charmaine arranged over the phone. Through the running water she swore she heard knocking so she shut off the shower. Although the voices were muffled by the closed bathroom door, Charmaine definitely heard Barocca's delighted gasp and, moments later, a male reply. As Charmaine swept aside the shower curtain, the door burst open and there stood Barocca in the loosely-tied ultra-short kimono, her dark areolas peeking out from the gaping neckline. The big Brazilian grinned broadly for standing beside her behind a mountain of fluffy towels was Juan-Carlos, the young stud who had introduced each of them to the secluded beach they had so recently fled.
"It so happens," Juan-Carlos announced, "that my shift ends in five minutes. Bringing these towels is my last assignment for the day."
"Oh, no you don't," corrected Barocca, taking a towel from the top of the stack. "You're not finished yet, J.C. You have two women guests here who are very hot and very wet. What are you going to do about that?"
J.C. assessed the situation at a glance…a long, lingering glance. "As a member of the resort staff, I stand ready to help our guests in every possible way."
Grabbing the next towel, Charmaine said, "Then help dry us off. Me first." J.C began gently but vigorously rubbing Charmaine's towel all over her body while she sighed and moaned like a pampered pet. Since this resort was in the tropics, the staff dressed accordingly for the perpetually hot temperatures. The males wore shorts. J.C. almost never wore underwear, so the tip of his dick occasionally peeked out from below the left leg of his shorts. This made him very popular with the female guests…Barocca and Charmaine especially. As he attended to Charmaine, Barocca's keen eye for detail noticed that his shorts bulged dangerously and that at least two inches of swollen cock was visible.
Barocca stepped up close to J.C. from behind, reached around, and began unbuttoning his loose-fitting shirt. "You're going to get all wet. Now that you're working for us, we insist you dress properly for the task at hand." As soon as she peeled off his shirt, she knelt and began tugging down J.C.'s shorts. When his magic wand cleared the descending waistband, it sprang to attention with such force that it struck Barocca in the eye. Blinking, the Bombshell said, "I'd better put this somewhere safe." She opened her mouth wide and engulfed the entire 25-cm (10")-long, 6-cm (2.5")-wide dark dong.
Charmaine was dry by now except for her pussy, which was generously drenching J.C.'s index and middle fingers as he pumped them in and out of her hot twat. The three of them had by now maneuvered to the king-size bed, with Charmaine sitting on the edge and propping herself up on her elbows. J.C. stood sideways between her gaping legs, working Charmaine's pussy with his right hand. Barocca remained on her knees, sliding her lips up and down the full length of J.C.'s steel shaft. As an expert cocksucker, she knew just when to back off so J.C. wouldn't climax too soon and become useless to them. Both women were well aware that J.C. was good for three or four orgasms himself, if given 15-20 minutes between spurts to recover, before he was through for the day. But it was early yet and they wanted to pace themselves…and J.C. especially.
It wasn't long before Charmaine arched her back and with a shuddering whimper flooded J.C.'s hand with her fragrant love potion. Barocca moved around to kiss her while J.C. washed his hand in preparation for round two. He returned to find Barocca on her back on the bed, spreading her labia. "Enough sucking, start fucking," she commanded. J.C. dove into his new assignment with eager enthusiasm, plunging his willie all the way into the Brazilian's warm pink pussy. It was familiar territory and J.C. knew exactly what to do to satisfy this lusty Latina and bring her to a rambunctious climax. Charmaine aided and abetted by sucking on Barocca's prominent tits, alternating between them. Barocca's breathing increased until, with a loud yelp, she came.
Charmaine instantly turned her attention and her tongue to J.C.'s proud prod. She eagerly licked all of Barocca's jizz from his dark, shining shaft. The Bombshell had been abandoned, left to satisfy her post-coital cravings by caressing her quivering body all by herself. J.C. still hadn't come yet, so he was good to go again. Charmaine pushed him onto his back and carefully lowered her still-moist cunt onto his pecker. She slid slowly down his pole, savoring every millimeter. Barocca had already rolled out of the way and was sorting through her beach bag.
Moments later she felt Barocca's hand on her back, gently pushing her forward. She didn't resist and as soon as her pillowy natural knockers pancaked against J.C.'s chiseled chest, she felt a firm cylindrical object enter her ass. Her new girlfriend had evidently located a dildo or butt plug and was treating her to an exhilarating double penetration session. As soon as she felt the Latina's loins slap against her ass, Charmaine knew at once that Barocca had a fat strap-on-and that she knew exactly how to use it.
Two crammed cocks, one real and one fake, worked twice as fast as on, and Charmaine exploded with an overpowering orgasm quite unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. She collapsed, totally limp and unable to move. Barocca dragged Charmaine's remains off of J.C. and rolled her aside. "Poor dear," she sighed. "She'll need time before she's ready for more. I, on the other hand, am ready now."
So was Juan-Carlos, whose tumescent tube steak still stood like a stake. But Barocca had other plans for the sturdy stud. Removing the ebony Latex strap-on, she mounted J.C.'s face and ordered, "Eat me." The brazen Brazilian steadied herself by holding onto J.C.'s joint with both hands. There was still plenty of hard cock visible above her baseball-bat grip. As J.C.'s tongue tickled her twat and probed her delicious depths, Barocca pumped her hands up and down on his long schlong. Their tempos increased to simultaneous climaxes. The Bombshell shrieked and shot her gun onto J.C.'s face; his grunts were muffled by her overheated pussy, but nothing could disguise the geyser spurts that erupted almost a meter into the air before a few globs of cum splattered onto Barocca's upturned face and bouncing bosom. Each then licked up and swallowed as much of the other's jizz as he or she could before washing their faces at the bathroom sink.
When they returned, Charmaine was waiting with a demonic gleam in her dark brown eyes. "Now that Juan-Carlos has shot his load-his first load, that is-I guess it's up to us, Barocca, to keep this party going. And I know just what we can do while waiting for our boy's hydraulic system to work back up to full pressure." She whispered into Barocca's ear.
"Perfect," she purred. Turning to J.C., the Bombshell directed, "Help us to clear some space here. Then sit down and watch."
"And keep your hands off little willie there," Charmaine added. "We don't want to wait any longer than we must."
When the furniture was cleared from the living room and J.C. was comfortable lounging on a chair in the corner, he patiently waited to se what "perfect" plan the girls would hatch. Presently Charmaine stepped to the middle of the open area and announced, "Today began with Barocca teaching me how to wrestle. Our training was aborted doe to weather. So now, for your viewing pleasure and also as our way of thanking you for showing us both that lovely hideaway beach, we'd like to wrestle exclusively for you. The winner will get to enjoy any kind of sex with you for the rest of today." Juan-Carlos snorted at their presumption that he should be their prize, but he realized he had no objections to spending the rest of the day pleasuring whichever wanton wildcat won the match. So he settled back and let fate take its course.
Barocca thought Charmaine overstated her case. Their brief demonstration and grabass on the beach hardly amounted to "teaching her how to wrestle."
Barocca and Charmaine circled each other looking for an opening. They crouched slightly, poised to spring at the first opportunity. Despite all their earlier activities, they still tingled with competitive energy, their eyes locked. Charmaine lunged first, quickly trapping Barocca in a tight headlock. As she'd seen on the telly, she jacked Barocca's head up and down several times to aggravate her discomfort. Juan-Carlos appreciated how this set their big boobs bouncing. His dick began to revive.
Barocca reached between Charmaine's spread legs and crushed her cunt. J.C. admonished, "Please don't squeeze the Charmaine," but the Brazilian ignored him and bore down. The headlock sprang open and she was free. Grabbing a leg, the Latina upended the Brit and corkscrewed her leg with a stepover toehold. This wasn't covered in their earlier training, so Charmaine had no idea how to counter this maneuver. Her mentor had become her tormentor. She writhed and pounded the floor in frustration as Barocca cranked up the pressure. In desperation, Charmaine used her free leg to smash her opponent's bountiful bosom. The kick sent the Brazilian crashing to the floor.
J.C.'s joystick was once again fully erect. He'd seen women wrestling before, but nothing like these two. He couldn't believe how turned on he'd become. Meanwhile Charmaine had Barocca on her belly and sat on her back, bending her victim's legs backward. Not wanting to embarrass her hostess, Barocca granted her a few holds. Charmaine didn't present any real threat-Then she remembered how badly she'd underestimated Jasmine, another amateur engaging in her first match. That gorgeous glamour puss really cleaned Barocca's clock, handing the vivacious veteran a humiliating loss.
One glance at J.C.'s erection was all the motivation the Brazilian Bombshell needed. No matter how often or how recently she'd hidden his salami, she could never get enough. And with all the practice J.C. got at the resort, he now had the equivalent of several PhDs in sexology. So she reached her arm back, snaked it around Charmaine's throat, and used this chokehold to unseat her rival. Then she planted her feet against Charmaine's shoulder for leverage as she stretched and torqued her right arm.
Juan-Carlos had women fight over him before, usually in drunken bar brawls, once at the resort pool, and once on a church parking lot. But this was the best. Not local girls or horny tourist divorcees, but two famous porn stars with bodies and faces to die for…and with the most amazingly talented pussies he'd ever had. He really didn't care who won.
Charmaine worried that Barocca was revealing a repertoire of holds and moves she'd never seen and certainly hadn't practiced earlier. She'd been foolish to challenge such an experienced and successful femme fighter. Maybe she'd get lucky and could capitalize on a catastrophic error-if Barocca was careless enough to make one.
Barocca skillfully segued from the armlock into a waist scissors and Charmaine found herself struggling to inhale. Barocca grabbed a handful of titty and squeezed it until tears welled up in Charmaine's eyes. She retaliated in kind, filling her fingers with Brazilian breast. Charmaine's arm strength was no match for Barocca's. She merely tightened her scissors until Charmaine abandoned her rack attack.
Seconds later they were on their feet again, Barocca struggling to apply a full nelson and Charmaine spoiling her efforts each time. The Bombshell glanced at Juan-Carlos who was slowly stroking his cock. She exploded, "Get you hand off that tower of power! I don't want you shooting you wad yet. You save your cream for me." That lapse in concentration was all that Charmaine had been waiting for.
Charmaine grabbed Barocca's neck and snapmared her over her head. Barocca actually felt her heels graze the ceiling as she flipped through the air. She crash-landed upside-down on the loveseat they'd moved against the far wall. Lying on the seat cushions with her legs "V"ed up against the wall, the most efficient way out of her predicament was to fall onto her head; not a winning strategy. Before Barocca could formulate a Plan B, Charmaine was straddling her face and holding her legs wide apart. Into the Brazilian's gaping pussy she felt Charmaine's finger-no, fingers-no, hand bury itself. Then the intruder swelled-Charmaine had made a fist! She maniacally pumped it up and down inside Barocca's cunt until the Latina thought she's black out. She'd never been fisted before but she recognized the onrush of a nuclear orgasm. Seconds later the Bombshell boiled over as her love-lava gushed from her gash. The Brit removed her hand and stepped back as Barocca melted down to the floor, Charmaine then dragged the limp Latina by one foot to the middle of the room and plopped onto her for the pin.
Barocca mustered all the remaining strength to shrug Charmaine off just before she reached "3". He love canal was outraged with pain but the Bombshell had to ignore it. It was all she could do to headbutt Charmaine. That must've knocked the wind out of the Brit because she sank to her knees and then to the floor gasping. Barocca's inner thighs were drenched with warm cum. She shook her head to clear it.
Charmaine lay on her back, motionless except for her shallow gasping as she struggled to catch her breath. Her right hand, dripping with the Barocca's cum, gave the violated vixen an idea. Grabbing Charmaine's ankles, she hoisted the inert Brit up until she rested on her shoulders. The Brazilian stepped one leg through Charmaine's spread legs, rammed her pussies together, and began grinding away. Sinclair wasn't expecting tribadism. She threw both arms out to her sides to steady herself but her temporary respiratory problems left her with no strength to resist. Barocca slid her slimy slit against Charmaine's while her victim lay inverted and helpless.
Going clit-to-clit with the Brit re-established the luscious Latina’s dominance. She ground their gashes until Charmaine could feel an overpowering orgasm swelling deep within her. Within seconds she let out a yelp as her jizz spewed from her overheated pussy. Barocca dropped Charmaine’s legs and fell across her flaccid body. Then she threw one leg over her victim’s head and snuggled her gooey pussy onto Charmaine’s face. 1…2…3, and it was all over.
The room was filled with the fragrance of nookie nectar. Barocca rolled off the conquered coquette and waited for her own deep breathing to subside. As assertive as ever, she turned to Juan-Carlos. “J.C., get dressed, go to my cabin, and bring me something to wear. And take those extra towels with you. I need another shower.”
Juan-Carlos pulled on his clothes, picked up the towels, fished out his passkey, and left. Barocca caressed Charmaine’s breasts and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Don’t worry, hon. You did well for a novice. A little more practice and you could become a champion. You have an unusually effective way of fist-fighting.” The exchanged words of congratulations and consolation until Juan-Carlos returned with a voluminous and colorful Hawaiian muumuu for Barocca.
“Ciao,” she called to Charmaine as she departed with Juan-Carlos. “We must do this again sometime.”
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