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Cassandra opened her eyes, and immediately sheltered her sensitive vision from the blinding sunrise. She took in a deep breath, but started coughing horribly as fine, white sand was sucked down her throat. Groggily, she got up from the hot sand and tried to make sense of where she was.
She looked around at the desolate, tropical beach she had washed up on. A hundred feet from her was the large dinghy she had taken out last night in a drunken fit of rage.
She struggled to her feet, trying to make sense of this surreal situation. Her eyes hurt from the bright sun, and her head was throbbing with one of the worse headaches she could remember having, probably a combination of dehydration and her hangover. Her mouth tasted horribly of salt, and her body, not to mention her $400 designer sunbathing suit, was filthy with sand, seawater, and god knows what else.
What was she going to do? For once, she was actually regretting one of the tantrums she had thrown. Had she finally gone too far? She had been broken-hearted when Buck had decided he had to cut their cruise short. The CEO had called an emergency board meeting for some issue or another, so he turned his 130-foot luxury yacht around, only a few days before they were going to pull up at the five-star luxury hotel she had been begging him take her to for months! He had reserved the top floor suite for them! Her favorite fashion designer was known to stay there frequently!
Possibly fueled by too many cosmos, she had done the only thing that seemed logical at the time, and taken the dinghy out to the high seas, yelling that she would sail there herself if she had to! He would have had no choice but to turn his yacht around and follow her!
How could she have predicted that freak storm?
After the most terrifying night of her life, she should have been glad to simply be alive. However, her current situation might not have been much of an improvement. She hobbled over to where the dinghy had washed up. Somehow, her sunhat was right where she had tied it. It was in no better condition than her sunbathing suit, but it would keep the sun off her bare shoulders. What now? Would she just have to wait for him to find her? He would have to come eventually. How far could she have drifted in a couple hours, really?
She waited for what must have been an hour, but the only motion was the waves crashing on the beach. While her neck and shoulders were covered, her bare back and legs were starting to feel the sun. She was going to be burnt to a crisp if she stayed out here much longer. Also, she was horribly thirsty. She would have to go look for some shade and fresh water soon.
But there was a problem. If she wandered off and they came to rescue her, how would they find her? She would have to leave a message of some sort. She scratched an itch on her left boob as she sat there, thinking of how to communicate where she wanted to go. Buck always liked using compass directions for this sort of thing. Maybe she could write down a direction and walk that way.
Oh, but Cassandra knew she was terrible with directions. Worse, the compass on the boat seemed to have broken. She looked toward the rising sun, wondering how on Earth she could be able to tell which direction was which without a working compass? She remembered hearing that moss grew on the north side of trees. But there were only a few palm trees around, and none of them had moss on them.
“I know!” she said, so excited she stood up! “I’ll just draw an arrow! Why didn’t I think of that the first time?”
But the soft, white sand was impossible to work with. It kept falling and filling in any lines she dug, making them hard to see, and the wind might be another issue. She would have to dig deep to make her arrow last, and that sounded like a lot of work. She looked around for something else she could draw her arrow with. There was line of driftwood and old seaweed around where she and her boat had washed up. She could use those to make an arrow, but it smelled awful, and there were bugs flying around it! There was no way she was picking that gross stuff up!
Finally, she saw what she needed! A little farther down the beach, closer to the water, the sand was wet! That stuff would hold a line easily! She walked down the beach, hopped over the line of seaweed and driftwood and picked a good spot to draw her arrow.
“LOOKING 4 SHADE” she wrote for good measure beside the arrow. She stepped back to admire her work. Now that message would stay there for a while, she praised herself! She had spent two years as a Girl Scout in middle school, after all, so her survival skills were second to none!
Cassandra headed left along the beach, going toward what looked like shady grove of trees a few miles away. It would be a long walk. As she made her way, she kept scratching itches inside her bra. Maybe she had gotten some sand inside of it, or maybe it was just the drying seawater. But after twenty minutes, the itching was getting worse. Everywhere her bikini top touched her skin, it itched enough to make her squirm. Was it bugs? escort bursa Were those icky bugs from the beach now infesting her bra, biting her tits?
She couldn’t take it anymore! She was about to lift it up over her head, but took a moment to look around to make sure nobody was watching. It was silly to do; of course, nobody could see her. If they could, she would be saved and wouldn’t need to do this stupid hike in the first place. Still, it just felt right to do.
No, there wasn’t another soul in sight. She shrugged, and pulled the skimpy thing up. As she removed it from her breasts, she felt the fabric sticking to her nipples like band-aids, which resulted in a playful tug and a pleasant tickle as her nipples peeled away from the inside of her bra. It felt not so unlike her nipples popping out from a strong, sucking set of lips.
She giggled! She didn’t know what had caused that, maybe some dried sweat or salt from the ocean, but it didn’t really matter. It had actually turned her on a little: a nice distraction from her dire situation.
With the itchy garment removed, her skin already felt better! She inspected it closely. It was sandy and dirty, but there didn’t seem to be any bugs or anything. She took it to the water and thoroughly washed it off, wrung it out, and put it back on. For a moment, the coolness of the dampened cloth felt relieving on her skin, but in seconds the itching started again.
“Oh, who cares?” she asked, and whipped it off again, and hung it from her waistband. Out of habit, she looked around again to make sure nobody was looking, and continued on her way down the beach, now completely topless.
It felt kind of sexy to be walking along without a bra on, but there was also something not quite right about it. It wasn’t modesty; she knew she had nothing at all to be ashamed of with her amazing breasts. It wasn’t that she felt vulnerable, either. She had done some nude modeling before. In fact, the wrongness was coming from the fact that she wasn’t being paid to be walking down a tropical beach topless. Dire situation aside, this would be a scene straight out of a Playboy photoshoot. If you’re good at something, never do it for free, it was said. She had her moneymakers out, and was getting nothing in return beyond a refreshing breeze on her skin: not a paycheck, not even any favors from Buck. In a sense, she was being cheated right now.
Casandra’s body was nothing short of heavenly! Her boobs had been done by one of the best surgeons money could buy! Though they were big and firm and round, almost as big as her head, they still looked perfectly natural, with hardly a scar in sight. That could be seen even with her top on, which had shown plenty of cleavage. Ah, but removing her top had revealed the real kicker: two of the widest, pinkest nipples a woman could have! Her areolas here inches across, nearly as big as her palms, and were extra soft, puffy and smooth. Those areolas were capped by gigantic grape-sized nipples, so thick and fleshy they had a bounce all of their own as she walked.
The rest of her body was a sight to behold, as well. Her arms, legs, and waist were all wonderfully slender and athletic. She had wide, feminine hips that naturally swayed as she walked, with a waist so narrow buck could almost put his large hands around it. Every last stand of body hair from the neck down had been permanently removed, leaving her legs and elsewhere perfectly smooth, without a razor nick in sight. Her lipstick and makeup were probably messed up right now, but even if she rubbed it off, her natural complexion was nearly flawless!
And so, she strode along the beach, keeping the shore to her right, wearing nothing but her sandals, sun hat, bikini bottom, and lacey shawl draped around her waist.
After a time, her bikini bottom started to itch, too. Even the shawl, where it brushed against her legs irritated her. Any place where fabric touched her skin seemed to be having this effect. It was tolerable for now, but she debated going bottomless as well as she continued on her way.
But as she came around a small rocky outcropping, that debate was quickly forgotten as she saw way lay ahead: as glorious a sight as a ray of sunlight sent from Heaven, there was the gigantic yet graceful image of the Entrepreneur, her boyfriend’s yacht! She was saved!
Gleeful, she started running toward her salvation. She fumbled with her bra, clumsily donning the accursed thing as she galloped along. But her euphoric sense of relief was short lived. She slowed to a halt, as her grin changed to a look of pure horror!
The Entrepreneur was at completely the wrong angle! It was cocked unnaturally to one side, and stood perfectly motionless. It had run aground! The Entrepreneur had wrecked just as badly as her dinghy had!
“No, no, NO!!!” she screamed, and bolted toward the wreckage. Having forgotten all about her bra, her bare breasts swung wildly in the air as she ran.
As she drew nearer, she saw that the vessel was worse than just aground. There were huge gashes in the side of the hull, some of them görükle escort well below where the waterline should have been. Feeling forlorn and lost again, all her steam suddenly ran out, and she came to a halt about one-hundred feet from the boat. She became aware of her naked breasts again. She felt for bra, but she seemed to have dropped it somewhere behind her. Well, her boyfriend might be furious with her, so maybe showing off her best aspects would save her from the worst of his wrath.
“Cassandra?” she heard a youthful, high-pitched voice shouting after her from the direction of the yacht. “CASSANDRA! IT’S YOU!”
A young, tan-skinned woman hopped down from the beached wreckage of the ENTREPRENEUR and hurried toward her. It was Isabella, that damn Mexican immigrant Buck had hired as the steward aboard his yacht. In her eyes, this girl couldn’t even be trusted to do Cassandra’s laundry, considering some of her outfits cost more than Isabella’s monthly wage. She hardly even trusted this girl around her own boyfriend. She was younger than Cassandra, and she had noticed some of Buck’s glances toward her, as if a lowly wench like Isabella could possibly compete with her. Isabella was certainly the last person she wanted to escort her back to her boyfriend.
She brought her arms up to her chest, meaning to cover her bare breasts, but then thought better. There were things her girls were good for besides just making money. Flaunting her far superior breasts to this young girl would help to remind her who the alpha female was. This was something like what Buck liked to refer to as a ‘power move’: a show of unbridled confidence meant to intimidate your inferiors till they fell back into place.
“Isabella!” she demanded, putting her fists on her hips. “What in the world happened here? Where is Buck?”
Isabella paused. She glanced down at Cassandra’s lack of any top, raising an eyebrow in curiosity at the unusual size of her exposed areolas. ‘That’s right, bitch, drink it in. Even my nipples are far better than yours!’ she thought to herself, contently.
But one glance was all she took. When her eyes returned upward, she actually seemed to be avoiding eye contact. It was so satisfying to watch her try to act normal and answer her question, while in the face of such a forbidden sight.
“Oh, Ma’am, I… Mr. Brodeur is furious at you! We run aground chasing you in the storm. He will still be glad I found you, though!”
“I can clearly see you ran aground! Tell me something useful! Where is Buck, and how are we getting out of here?”
Isabella did her best to explain the current situation. In short, the Captain had pursued her without waiting for orders from Buck, but they got caught in the same freak storm that had beached Cassandra. The hull had been ripped open on a coral reef, and they were lucky to make it to shore at all. Toby, the ship’s engineer, was still inside trying to patch all the holes before the tide came back in, and Isabella had been tasked with keeping a lookout. Meanwhile, Buck had taken Cecil and Pierre, the yacht’s captain and Buck’s personal chef, out to scout the surrounding area and look for food and shelter.
“Wait, so Buck is out right now? Great! Okay, when the hell are we being rescued?”
“Ma’am, I not really sure how to explain this… Emergency power isn’t working, so no GMDSS. And the EPIRB washed away in the storm.”
“Will you speak English? I don’t understand all those foreign words!”
“I WAS speaking English! Those are ship’s distress sytems! What I’m trying to say is emergency radio… GONE! Rescue? Who knows?”
“So… we’re stuck here?”
Isabella nodded sadly.
“God! So, when the fuck is Buck coming back?”
Isabella shrugged. “Been gone for hours. I don’t know. They tell us to wait here.”
Cassandra could see a trail of several footprints leading toward the same forest she had been following. From here, it still looked at least a mile away. It had been farther than it had looked.
“I’m going onboard to get myself a new top. In the meantime, get me a drink. After that, we’re going after him.”
They climbed the gangway onto the heavily tilting ship. Walking through the listing ship was difficult. Both of them grabbed onto railings, walls, and anything else within reach to help them safely make their way. Cassandra went to the master bedroom to fetch some of her things, including a new top. She ruffled through her wardrobe until she found something suiting, and put it on. By the time she was back outside, the new top was beginning to itch as well. Was even the clean laundry contaminated?
By the time she emerged, Isabella was already back outside with her drink, which she snatched eagerly.
“What the fuck is this?” she cursed, after taking one sip.
“Water, Ma’am. You been lost at sea. You need to stay hydrated. Sorry, freezer has no power. Need to save our ice.”
Though mildly cool water wasn’t what she had been thinking, she was horribly thirsty, so the drank it down all the same. That was when she noticed bursa escort bayan Isabella was scratching herself and shifting her blouse around uncomfortably, as if her clothes were also irritating her skin.
“And what in the world did you do to my laundry? All of my tops itch horribly! Even the clean ones!”
“I don’t know. Mine’s been itching, too. But only since we got here. Something in the air, maybe? Pollen? Sand?”
“Yeah, blame it on the beach. I swear, I keep telling my husband he should stop hiring Mexicans for his serving staff. You pay bottom dollar; you get bottom dollar service.”
“Ma’am, I’m Dominican.”
“I don’t care what part of Mexico you’re from! It makes no difference to me.”
“Dios mio!” Isabella sighed, deciding this wasn’t even worth arguing.
“What did you just call me?”
“I didn’t call you nothing!” Isabella protested.
“Fine. Just speak English around me, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am,” she muttered with a sigh.
“All right,” Cassandra announced once she had finished her water. “We’re following after them now. Come on. Let’s go find Buck.”
Isabella shook her head. “Sorry, Ma’am. Mr. Brodeur ordered me to stay here. And if I find you, you stay here as well.”
“I want my boyfriend… NOW! MOVE!”
Again, she shook her head. “I’m not just on lookout for you. Also watching for Toby’s safety. Tide coming in. If unsafe to be onboard, I have to warn him.”
“Then let’s go get him and see how much longer he’s going to take in there.”
Isabella shrugged, but didn’t object. But down in the engine room, Toby was nowhere to be found. There were all sorts of tools and materials around Toby had been using to patch the holes in the side, though she could easily see daylight through the holes in the hull.
“Where is he, sleeping on the job? How does he even need you to stand watch when there’s practically a window in the hull he can see out of?”
Isabella sighed, annoyed, but said nothing. They searched the entire ship for him, but he was nowhere to be found. Isabella seemed worried that something might have happened to him, though Cassandra was sure he had just wandered off to take a nap.
“Well, now that you aren’t watching for Toby anymore, you can come with me to find Buck.”
Again, she shook her head. “Sorry. Mr. Brodeur says we stay here.”
“Now look here, you little, insolent…”
“Your ‘boyfriend,'” she interrupted her, the word boyfriend dripping with sarcasm, “is the one who write my paychecks. Not you. Last I see, you don’t spend a dime you earn yourself. He pays me, I do what he says, not what you say! Got it? I don’t give a shit if you do what your boyfriend tell you to do. Me? I’m staying here where they know to find me, and where I can watch for Toby in case he need help. Maybe you don’t know we in a survival situation right here, but we are! Doing dumb shit will get you killed! You wanna run off into the woods by yourself and get lost? Fine! But count me out. I don’t wanna die yet!”
Cassandra was taken aback by Isabella’s sudden burst of sass. She had never seen that side of her! It sounded like it had been pent up for a long time.
“Oh, you little shit!” Cassandra yelled, once she had regained her wits. “When ‘Mr. Brodeur’ finds out how you’ve treated me, he’ll fire you on the spot! Maybe you’ll even be deported! I swear, with ‘dreamers’ like you, they can’t build that wall fast enough!”
“For the last time, I’m not from fucking Mexico! I’m Dominican! From the Do-min-i-can Re-pub-lic. Do you even know where that is? Or is anything south of the United States fucking Mexican to you? Or anyone who speak Spanish at all? ‘Let’s go get some paella, I fucking love Mexican food!'”
“I said… you’re coming with me!” Cassandra screamed, and grabbed the smaller woman by the wrist, intending to drag her along if need be.
But with one smooth motion, Isabella twisted her arm out of her grasp, and, before she could even react, had slapped her sharply across the face.
“Don’t touch me!”
Again, Cassandra was too shocked to do anything but stare for a moment. When she regained what passed for her wits a second time, she swung her open palm right back at Isabella’s face. However, Isabella backed up at the last second, and only the outer edge of her palm landed a glancing blow in her cheek.
Isabella didn’t return the blow: only stood up straight, staring her down, defiantly. Cassandra stood up tall and squared off with her. She had at least six inches on her.
“You really want to fight me, bitch? You’re half my size.”
“Lower center of gravity… puta! Bring it!”
Cassandra made a grab for Isabella’s blouse, and got a good hold. But before Cassandra could do anything with her newly gained advantage, Isabella stepped in far closer than Cassandra was expecting to fight and shoved her backward by the sternum. Cassandra stumbled back half a step to keep her balance, only to find that Isabella had placed her foot behind hers. Cassandra hung off balance for a moment, then Isabella swept her foot back, lifting Cassandra’s foot up in the air. Cassandra tugged on Isabella’s blouse hard enough to hear a seam rip, but lost her grip. Isabella, whose hand had never left her sternum, pushed again, this time forcefully guiding her upper body straight to the ground.
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