Backstage with Sandy

Sandy and I aren’t really backstage. We’re on a boat somewhere in the Adriatic, sunlight pouring over bare skin. Dolphins break the surface and we shriek like kids. The camera keeps rolling. A girl from the crew catches my eye, her bikini bottom already sliding down. Sandy laughs and steps out of her shorts. Moments later two blondes are pressed together on the deck, tongues sliding deep, fingers parting wet folds. The bigger, rounder ass rises higher as a hand slips inside. We don’t stop until the sea turns gold around us.