The way Tiffany's milky boobs looked dripping with chocolate was making me hungry in ways that had nothing to do with ice cream.
It was the same kind of big bathroom where I'd found El and Minh earlier, tucked away in a janitor's room. It was spacious and tiled, with a single lock on the door that clicked shut behind us, muffling the beach noise outside.
She was still holding her melting ice cream cone in one hand while her bikini top hung loose, the thin white fabric bunched uselessly under her heavy breasts. Her boobs spilled free, full and round, creamy skin now streaked with dark chocolate trails that ran slowly from the tops, down the inner curves, pooling in her deep cleavage and dripping toward her soft belly.
I looked at her thick, delicious body, wide hips, soft stomach, massive tits heaving with every quick breath, and took a slow lick of my own melting cone, my eyes never leaving her. Then I stepped closer. She looked excited, ready for whatever I was about to do.
