The pulsating bass of the Bikini Car Wash Boombox Disco Dash began to fade, the foam jets sputtering out their last bubbles as contestants were funneled toward a shimmering ramp coated in glitter and soap suds. The neon glow of the roller disco gave way to a fiery haze ahead, where the smell of BBQ sauce and sizzling meat mingled with the scent of sweat and coconut oil. The crowd surged along with the contestants, their cheers growing louder as the next spectacle came into view.

Blaine caught up to Bunny, his bronzed chest glistening under the carnival lights. His smirk was wider than ever as he looked her over, her golden skin still slick with foam and oil, her cheeks flushed from the exertion of the previous round.

“Alright, babe,” Blaine said, his deep voice resonating as he plucked two oversized, glitter-encrusted boomboxes shaped like flamingos from a nearby stand. He turned to Bunny, his signature smirk playing across his lips. “You want to crush this next event? Then it’s time to show me your balance. Let’s see if you can handle these.”

Bunny blinked at him, her cheeks already flushed from exertion—or was it something else entirely? “Both of them?” she asked, her voice light, teasing, but with a thread of disbelief.

“Both,” he confirmed, stepping closer, his bronzed chest almost brushing against her. With deliberate care, Blaine placed one flamingo boombox atop her head, steadying it with his strong hands. Then, with a calculated precision, he stacked the second on top. The weight made Bunny wobble immediately, her legs quivering as she fought for stability.

“Blaine!” she squealed, her voice pitching higher as she reflexively clutched his forearm for support. “They’re so heavy!”

“That’s the point, babe,” Blaine drawled, his hands sliding down to her hips in a possessive grip. He turned her gently toward the glittery ramp leading to the Aerobics Breakdancing BBQ Challenge. “Now jog. And keep those bad boys steady. Show me what you’ve got.”

The crowd erupted into cheers, their chants of “BUNNY! BUNNY!” filling the air with infectious energy. Bunny bit her lip, drawing a shaky breath as she began to move forward. The tiny strings of her bikini shifted with every step, the skimpiest excuse for clothing barely holding her in place. Her bare, glistening thighs flexed as she jogged, and the boomboxes wobbled precariously but didn’t fall.

Blaine followed close behind, his presence palpable. His eyes lingered on her swaying hips, a predator savoring the sight of his prey. And then, without warning, his large hand darted out and delivered a sharp, playful spank to her ass.

“Balance, babe!” he called out, his tone somewhere between mockery and encouragement.

Bunny gasped, the sting of his hand sending a jolt through her that went straight to her core. Her steps faltered for a moment, but she quickly regained her rhythm, her hands fluttering upward to steady the precarious tower of boomboxes. “Blaine!” she protested, her voice breathy and high-pitched.

“You’re wobbling,” Blaine teased, his voice low and smug as he closed the distance between them. “Focus. You want to win, don’t you?”

She grit her teeth, her determination warring with the growing heat spreading through her body. With every step, she felt the slick fabric of her bikini bottoms clinging tighter to her skin, and a new thought whispered in the back of her mind: Is it showing? Can they tell how wet I am?

Another sharp spank landed on her ass, harder this time, and Bunny let out a startled yelp that dissolved into a helpless giggle. Her cheeks burned, but she couldn’t deny the thrill rushing through her. She wanted to glare at him, to demand he stop—but the crowd’s cheers and Blaine’s commanding presence left her giddy and unsteady in ways she couldn’t fully process.

“Almost there, babe,” Blaine said, his hand delivering another smack, this one lingering as his palm molded to the curve of her ass. “You’re doing great. Best view on the beach, I gotta say.”

Bunny stumbled slightly, her hands pressing harder against the boomboxes as she whispered, “Blaine, you’re gonna make me drop them…”

His chuckle was dark, filled with mischief. “Not if you stay focused. You’ve got this, Bunny. Just keep those legs moving—and that ass ready for more.”

She bit her lip, torn between frustration and exhilaration. Her heart raced as she neared the platform at the end of the ramp, her thighs trembling with effort. With every step, the crowd’s cheers grew louder, and her own sense of pride swelled alongside the heat pooling in her core. Do I care if they see? a small voice whispered in her mind. Or do I… want them to?

Finally, Bunny reached the end of the ramp, her body practically buzzing with adrenaline. She came to a stop, her knees slightly bent as she fought to keep the boomboxes steady. Blaine was right behind her, his hands gripping her hips once more as he steadied her.

“C’mon, Bunny,” he said, his tone thick with approval as he delivered another punishing spank. “You can handle it. Look at you—you’re killing it.”

Her chest heaved as she pushed onward, the flamingo boomboxes wobbling precariously. The heat of Blaine’s gaze, the sting of his hand, and the wild chants of the crowd all fused into a heady cocktail that left her breathless and tingling.

As they neared the aerobics stage, Blaine grabbed the boomboxes from her head with a flourish and tossed them to an attendant. Bunny came to a shaky stop, her thighs trembling, her cheeks flushed, and her lips parted as she caught her breath.

“You’ve got the best balance on this beach, babe,” Blaine said, stepping closer. His hand slid over her hip and squeezed, his voice dropping low enough that only she could hear. “And the best assets. I just made sure of it.”

The contestants’ bodies glistened under the hot lights, their oiled skin shimmering with the allure of temptation as they stretched, every motion deliberate and sensual. The thin straps of their outfits clung precariously to their forms, framing curves and muscles that flexed with practiced grace. A playful tension buzzed through the air, amplified by the judges perched in their gaudy lifeguard chairs. Their gold lamé pants sparkled, catching the neon light, as their tongs clicked in time to the thumping bass, a teasing summons that had more than a few contestants smirking.

Blaine’s eyes burned with intent as he grabbed Bunny’s waist, his rough palms igniting a spark that seemed to leap through her. With effortless strength, he hoisted her high, her yelp of surprise swallowed by the roar of the crowd. She felt the hard press of his hands against her as he carried her toward one of the event’s centerpiece grills—cold now, but radiating heat like the embers of an untamed fire.

“What’s gotten into you?” Bunny gasped, her voice a mixture of mock scolding and unbidden excitement as he set her down on the grill’s smooth, cool surface. The contrast made her shiver, her skin prickling with heightened awareness.

“I’m hungry…,” Blaine growled, a feral grin stretching his lips. He slid his hands along her thighs, his thumbs tracing the slick sheen of oil on her skin. The audience whooped and hollered, their cheers mingling with laughter, but Blaine’s focus remained unbroken.

Bunny’s breath hitched as his mouth dipped low, his lips brushing her knee before trailing upward, a path that made her toes curl. The scrape of his stubble left a delicious burn in its wake, his tongue darting out to taste her. She tried to stifle a gasp but failed, her hands clenching the grill’s edge as he left a playful bite just below the hem of her barely-there shorts.

“You taste like victory…” he murmured, his voice heavy with satisfaction, but his eyes held a spark of something wilder.

Bunny’s cheeks burned as she laughed nervously, trying to play it off. She swung her legs off the edge of the grill and hopped down, blowing kisses to the crowd as if the entire thing had been planned.

“You’re insane,” she whispered to Blaine, her voice trembling with a mix of embarrassment and arousal.

“And you love it,” he shot back, swatting her ass as he guided her toward the spinning stage.

Bunny took a deep breath, her body buzzing with adrenaline and heat as she stepped onto the platform. The music surged, the lights brightened, and the crowd roared. She was ready to perform.

The stage spun slowly, the pulsing lights casting a kaleidoscope of neon colors across the arena. Bunny took her place at the center, her breath coming in shallow, nervous gasps. Around her, the other contestants began their routines—limbs stretching, hips swaying, each move carefully calculated to draw the judges' eyes. The air was thick with BBQ smoke and the scent of sizzling meat, a heady backdrop to the thumping bass of the music.

Bunny glanced at Blaine, who stood at the edge of the stage with his arms crossed, his chiseled frame glowing in the lurid light. His gaze locked onto hers, unwavering, intense, a silent command that sent a shiver down her spine.

She started with the basics, easing into the routine. Her arms lifted, her hands grazing the sky as she stretched upward, her glossy hair cascading down her back. Knee lifts followed, her legs rising and falling in time with the beat, her body moving with a fluid grace that surprised even her.

But it wasn’t enough. Not for Blaine.

He stepped onto the stage, his bare feet steady despite the platform's slow spin. The crowd roared at his arrival, their chants of "Blaine! Blaine!" mixing with the rising cry of "Bunny!" He moved behind her, his presence overwhelming, his heat radiating against her back.

“C’mon, babe,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. His hands found her hips, his grip firm but not forceful, guiding her movements. “Put some sizzle into it.”

Bunny’s breath hitched as Blaine pressed against her, his hips aligning with hers, his hands coaxing her into slow, sensual circles. She followed his lead, her body loosening, her inhibitions melting under his touch. Her hips rolled with a deliberate rhythm, each sway matching the thrum of the music.

The crowd erupted, their cheers a heady cocktail of approval and lust. Blaine stepped back, leaving Bunny alone in the spotlight, but his voice carried over the noise. “Show them what you’ve got, babe.”

Her confidence surged, the heat of the BBQ pits and Blaine’s gaze igniting something deep within her. She dropped lower, her knees bending as she transitioned into a twerk. Her tiny bikini bottom, already barely covering her, rode higher with every bounce, the fabric clinging to her glistening skin.

The crowd’s energy fed her, their chants growing louder with every move. Bunny arched her back, her hands running down her thighs as she thrust her hips, the friction of the stage and the smoky air amplifying her arousal. Blaine’s grin widened, his blue eyes gleaming with pride and something darker, hungrier.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” he called out, his voice thick with approval.

The music shifted, the beat dropping into a sultry rhythm as the aerobics and breakdancing phase gave way to the BBQ challenge. Large racks of ribs and skewers of vegetables lined the edges of the stage, each gleaming with a sheen of sauce under the neon lights. The contestants grabbed brushes, dipping them into bowls of sauce as they moved to the grills.

Bunny hesitated, the transition catching her off guard. Blaine was at her side in an instant, handing her a brush dripping with thick, sticky sauce.

“Here,” he said, his voice low and intimate. “Start with this.”

She dipped the brush into the sauce, her fingers trembling slightly as she brought it to the ribs. The bristles spread the marinade over the meat, the action oddly hypnotic. The crowd watched, their cheers dimming into an eager murmur.

“Not like that,” Blaine said, stepping closer. He took her wrist, guiding her hand in slow, deliberate strokes. “Make them feel it.”

Bunny swallowed hard, the intensity of his presence wrapping around her like smoke. She glanced at him, her glossy lips parting, and then back at the brush. With a sudden burst of boldness, she lifted it to her lips, her tongue darting out to taste the sauce.

The crowd roared as she licked the brush, her tongue tracing the bristles with exaggerated care. The tangy sweetness of the sauce mingled with the smoky air, and she giggled, her cheeks flushing as she returned to the ribs.

“Better,” Blaine said, his grin wicked.

Before she could respond, the music shifted to a bass-heavy beat that vibrated through the stage, signaling the transition to the breakdancing portion of the event. Bunny barely had time to react before Blaine grabbed her by the waist and spun her toward the center of the stage.

"Show them what you’ve got, Bunny," he said, his hands firm and possessive against her hips.

Bunny’s first attempt at a spin was clumsy; her slippery skin and the sticky sauce made her lose her footing. She yelped, arms flailing, but Blaine was there in an instant. His strong arms wrapped around her, lifting her effortlessly off the ground. The crowd erupted in cheers as he spun her himself, her legs extending gracefully, glitter catching the light like a thousand tiny stars.

When he set her down, his hands lingered on her waist, his grip firm and unapologetic. His fingers trailed along her bare skin, smearing the remnants of sauce in a way that felt both possessive and teasing. "Better let me do the heavy lifting, babe," he murmured, his voice low and dripping with innuendo. "Wouldn’t want you falling again."

A judge tossed a neon-pink hula hoop onto the stage, the glowing circle bouncing once before rolling to a stop at Bunny’s feet. She bent to pick it up, the movement deliberate, her back arching as the tiny triangles of her bikini bottom shifted, barely containing her curves. The crowd whistled, their cheers growing louder as she straightened and held the hoop aloft.

Bunny began to move, the hoop spinning around her waist with hypnotic rhythm. Her hips swayed in slow, deliberate circles, the sauce and glitter on her skin shimmering under the neon lights. She let the hoop slide down her body, her movements sinuous as it spun around her thighs, then her calves, before flicking it back up with a well-timed twist of her hips.

Blaine’s gaze was locked on her, dark and consuming, his jaw tight with barely restrained hunger. She caught his eye and slowed her movements, letting the hoop linger at her waist as she rolled her hips in a sultry rhythm that matched the music. Her body gleamed under the lights, the sticky sweetness of the sauce catching the glow and turning her into a living, breathing confection.

The crowd’s cheers became a fever pitch as Bunny leaned into the performance, letting her inhibitions melt away. She threw the hoop into the air and caught it with a flourish, spinning it around one arm before tossing it back to the judge with a wink.

Nearby, the other contestants leaned into their routines with equal fervor, each woman radiating confidence and joy as they served their men and basked in the crowd’s adoration.

Trixie Tumbleweed laughed as she grabbed a bowl of sauce, dipping her hands into the sticky liquid before smearing it across her chest. “This is for you, Chad!” she called out, blowing a kiss to the lifeguard tower where her boyfriend stood cheering. Her sequined bikini sparkled even brighter as she swayed to the music, her breasts glistening with BBQ sauce.

Candy Crush bent over dramatically to flip a row of burgers, her ass shaking to the beat as her fringed bikini swayed with her movements. She turned to the judges with a wink, lifting a perfectly grilled patty and placing it onto a bun with exaggerated care. "Hope you boys are hungry," she purred, her voice dripping with flirtation.

Misty Mayhem, ever the punk rebel, used her spiked bracelets to skewer chunks of meat, holding them aloft like trophies as she stomped to the heavy bassline. Her leather bikini clung to her sauce-slicked skin as she ground her hips to the music, the spikes on her bracelets catching the light as she served ribs to a cheering crowd.

Blaine stepped closer to Bunny, his hand finding her waist and pulling her toward him. “You’re stealing the show, babe,” he said, his voice rough and intimate. “But I think you’ve got more to give.”

He reached down, grabbing a fresh skewer of ribs and holding it out to her. “Feed me,” he demanded, his tone both commanding and teasing.

Bunny hesitated for only a moment before taking the skewer, her fingers brushing against his as she brought it to his lips. Blaine bit into the meat with a low growl, his eyes never leaving hers as he chewed. The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver through her, her body humming with arousal.  The roar of the crowd faded into white noise as Bunny turned to Blaine, her hands trembling, the skewer slick with dripping sauce and glistening meat. Her body buzzed with anticipation, her every nerve attuned to the charged energy radiating from him.

“Please…” Her voice was soft, almost trembling, her eyes wide as she held the skewer aloft, offering it to him like a gift. “Let me nourish you.”

Blaine’s smirk deepened, his lips curling into something both wolfish and indulgent as he leaned forward. His mouth closed around the chunk of meat, his eyes locked on hers with a predatory hunger that left her breathless. She watched, entranced, as his jaw worked, the sinews of his neck moving as he chewed with deliberate intensity.

When he swallowed, he let out a low, satisfied growl, his tongue darting out to lick a trace of sauce from the corner of his mouth. “You’ve got a gift, babe,” he murmured, his voice thick with heat. His hand caught hers, guiding the skewer back toward the dripping bowl of sauce. “Keep going. I’m still hungry.”

Her cheeks flushed, her body trembling as she dipped the skewer, the thick sauce clinging to the meat as she prepared another bite. She brought it to his lips again, her fingers brushing his skin. This time, he lingered, his mouth enveloping the morsel with slow, deliberate sensuality. The sound he made—a deep, appreciative hum—vibrated through her like an electric current.

“I want to do this for you,” she whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of arousal and submission. “I want to make everything you eat… everything you touch… unforgettable. I want you to get stronger, bigger. I want to feed you until you’re unstoppable.”

Blaine’s hand shot out, grabbing her wrist and pulling her closer. The skewer clattered to the ground, forgotten, as his gaze bore into hers with unrelenting intensity. “Is that what you want, Bunny?” he asked, his voice a low, dangerous purr. “You want to take care of me? Build me into something no one else can match?”

“Yes,” she breathed, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. “I want to see you grow. I want to watch your muscles swell until you’re too big for this stage, this crowd—until you belong to no one but me.”

His laughter was dark, dripping with satisfaction as his hands slid around her waist, pulling her against the hard planes of his chest. “Then don’t stop, babe,” he murmured against her ear, his breath hot against her skin. “Keep feeding me. Keep making me yours.”

The crowd surged around them, their cheers and chants fading into the background as Bunny grabbed another skewer. Her hands shook, but her resolve was steady as she dipped it into the sauce, her every movement infused with purpose. When she brought it to his lips again, her eyes sparkled with both devotion and heat.

“Eat, Blaine,” she whispered, her voice low and urgent. 

“I always will, but you’re making me hungry for more than BBQ, babe,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her fingers as he pulled the skewer from her grasp.

Bunny’s cheeks flushed, her heart racing as she turned back to the sizzling grills. The stage spun slowly, the music pounding, and the heat of the BBQ smoke mingling with the intoxicating energy of the crowd. She dipped another brush into the sauce, her movements bold and confident as she coated the ribs with thick, glistening layers.

This was her moment. Her stage. And as Blaine’s possessive gaze burned into her, she knew she’d give them all a show they’d never forget.  Especially as Blaine shoved a new outfit for her to put on for the final event.  

It was a scandalously tight, glossy vinyl leotard—hugged her every curve, clinging like a second skin. The deep crimson fabric shimmered under the lights, coated in a mix of BBQ sauce, oil, and glitter that accentuated her every movement. The neckline plunged obscenely, barely containing her bouncing breasts, and the sides arched so high they left her bronzed hips fully exposed. The thong back disappeared entirely between her ass cheeks, leaving nothing to the imagination. Thin straps crisscrossed her back, the tension in them framing her lean, glistening muscles as she strode to the center of the stage with a teasing smirk.

Just as he had finished putting it on the spinning stage roared to life under Bunny’s feet, neon lights casting her in a kaleidoscope of colors as the crowd’s fevered cheers drowned out the thumping music. 

Bunny grabbed a bottle of BBQ sauce from the grill’s edge, holding it high above her head before letting the thick, sticky liquid pour down over her body. The crowd erupted as the sauce trickled down her chest, pooling in the deep valley of her cleavage before running over her taut stomach and down her thighs. She shivered as it cooled her heated skin, the sensation sending an electric thrill through her.

She started to move, her hips swaying in exaggerated circles that caused the thin fabric of her leotard to ride up even higher, the glossy vinyl now glistening like it was soaked. The crowd’s chants of her name became a wild, animalistic roar as she bent forward, her ass jutting out provocatively. Grabbing a drumstick from a nearby tray, she took a teasing bite, her tongue curling around the meat before licking her fingers clean with a sultry, exaggerated moan.

At the stage’s center stood a massive array of BBQ grills, their sizzling meat filling the air with smoke and heat. Bunny’s hand shot out to grab a pair of tongs, the glitter on her skin catching the neon glow as she spun them like batons, eliciting a roar of approval from the audience. She wasted no time, flipping a massive rack of ribs with a deft flick of her wrist before spinning on one foot, her free hand trailing sauce along her thighs as she twirled.

The stage tilted slightly as it spun faster, but Bunny used the momentum to drop into a deep squat, her thighs glistening with the mix of sauce and sweat. She swirled her hips in a figure-eight, the leotard barely staying in place as she worked her body like an erotic machine. Her arms shot up above her head, elongating her lithe form, glitter catching the light and making her look like a walking, writhing disco ball of debauchery.

Her movements were a mix of erotic aerobics and masterful culinary display. With a deep squat, Bunny began twerking in front of a grill loaded with briskets and burgers, her ass bouncing hypnotically. The glossy thong leotard rode impossibly high, sauce splattering onto her thighs as the crowd went wild. “More heat, babe,” she purred, slamming a nearby switch that sent a plume of flames licking up around the grills.

Blaine stood at the edge of the stage, his chiseled form silhouetted against the firelight. His piercing sapphire eyes were locked on her, his chest rising and falling with his labored breaths. “Work that grill, Bunny,” he growled, his voice carrying over the cacophony. “I want it all.”

Her grin widened. “You’ll get it all, big guy,” she teased, her voice dripping with playful seduction. Reaching for a tray of sausages, she spun it expertly on one finger before dropping into a deep split, slamming the tray onto the grill. The sausages sizzled, juices popping, as Bunny leaned forward, her breasts pressing against the slick surface of the stage, sauce dripping from her fingertips as she flipped the sausages with her tongs. Her tongue darted out to catch a stray drop of glaze from her lips, and the audience lost their collective minds.

The stage tilted, but Bunny used the momentum to spring into action. She grabbed a basting brush, dunking it into a vat of thick, tangy BBQ sauce, and began slathering it across a rack of ribs, her hips gyrating in time with the pulsing music. The sauce splattered onto her bare thighs and streaked her chest, leaving sticky trails that caught the light. She tossed the brush aside and spun into a breakdance, her legs scissoring in the air as her tongs clinked against a tray of chicken wings.

Blaine stepped closer, his massive arms crossed over his chest, his lips curling into a smirk. “Faster, Bunny. Feed me,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire.  “And give ’em a show, babe!  Make them beg for more.”

With a wicked grin, Bunny snatched a bottle of honey glaze and tipped it over herself, the golden syrup cascading down her chest in thick, sticky ribbons. She caught the flow with her tongue, licking it clean in a display that had the audience howling with delight. Her hands roamed her own body, sliding over her sauce-slicked skin as she dropped to her knees and arched her back, her hips grinding against the stage as though she was dancing with an invisible lover.

A judge tossed her a set of tongs, and Bunny caught them with a flourish. Standing, she strutted to the nearest grill, her hips swaying with each step, and began flipping sizzling steaks while moving her body in an erotic rhythm. She twerked in time with the music, the sauce on her ass splattering onto the grill, sending up a hiss of smoke that curled around her like a lover’s touch. Her thong became nearly invisible as it wedged tighter, the fabric slick and shimmering with her every shake and bounce.

Without missing a beat, Bunny transitioned into a breakdance spin, her hands gripping the grease-slick stage as her legs parted in a flash of red vinyl and bronzed skin. The crowd screamed louder as she flipped onto her back, arching so high her breasts nearly spilled free, the sticky sauce now dripping down her thighs and pooling beneath her. She rolled onto her knees, licking her lips, and grabbed a massive turkey leg from the grill. Sinking her teeth into it with a playful growl, she let the juices run down her chin, licking and moaning in mock ecstasy as she held the meat high above her head like a trophy.

The stage spun faster still, and Bunny raised her arms, holding a hula hoop coated in glitter and BBQ sauce. She spun it around her hips, letting it slip lower as she bent over, her ass thrusting out tantalizingly toward the audience. Blaine’s growl of approval cut through the cacophony, his massive frame vibrating with need as he clenched his fists at his sides.

“Lower, Bunny,” he commanded, his voice rough and thick. “Make them see what perfection looks like.”

She complied with a wicked giggle, letting the hoop slide down her body until it circled her thighs, her hips gyrating in ways that left the crowd speechless. When the hoop finally clattered to the stage, she grabbed the nearest bottle of sauce and poured it over herself, the thick liquid running in sinful rivers over her bare skin. Her hands smeared it across her breasts, her stomach, and down to her thighs as she dropped into a final, lewd split just at the moment that she produced a colossal mountain of perfectly cooked meat to hold on a tray.  

Blaine couldn’t hold back anymore. He leaped onto the stage, his powerful legs carrying him across the slick surface. In one smooth motion, he scooped Bunny into his arms, spinning her around like a prize he had fought to claim. Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, her sticky, glitter-coated body pressed against his as his lips found her ear.

“You’re the queen of this stage,” he growled, his voice trembling with pride and hunger. “And you’re mine.  And I’m going to enjoy eating you as much as I’ll enjoy eating this meat. .”

The music swelled as the crowd reached a crescendo of cheers and applause. Bunny raised her arms in triumph, sauce dripping from her fingertips, her glittering form radiating confidence and raw sexuality.  

–

Before she could process her latest victory the stage tilted suddenly, its gears groaning dramatically as Bunny stood breathless at its center, her body glistening with oil and sauce, her leotard clinging to her like a second skin. Her bare feet squeaked against the slick surface as she scrambled for balance. The crowd roared with excitement as the tilt became a steep incline, and before Bunny could even process what was happening, gravity won.

She shrieked, the sound high and breathless, her arms flailing as she slid backward. Around her, the other contestants joined in a cacophony of gasps and laughter, their glittering bodies tumbling down the platform like a cascade of sequined dominoes.

With a resounding splash, Bunny landed in a pool of warm, sudsy water. Foam exploded around her, glitter swirling in the air like fairy dust. The impact sent her sprawling, and she surfaced with a gasp, her hands instinctively smoothing her hair as rubber ducks bobbed around her.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” the announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers, dripping with theatrical flair. “Get ready for the next event: The Jet Ski Wet T-Shirt Relay Wet Noodle Jousting!”

Bunny blinked, the words barely registering as she wiped glitter and soap from her face. “Jet ski… what now?” she murmured, her voice tinged with disbelief. She glanced around the pool, her eyes widening at the sheer absurdity of the scene.

The pool wasn’t just water. It was chaos incarnate. Foam jets erupted at random intervals, coating everything in a frothy layer of soap and sparkles. Contestants scrambled in every direction, some clutching onto the props they’d brought from the last event—Candy Crush’s bedazzled spatula floated by, and Misty Mayhem clung desperately to a BBQ rib like a life raft.

A bright yellow rubber duck smacked into Bunny’s chest, and she let out a startled laugh, her resistance to the insanity starting to crack. Blaine’s booming laughter cut through the noise, his sapphire-blue eyes locked on her from the pool’s edge. He stood shirtless, his bronzed chest glistening under the neon lights, arms crossed as he watched her with a mix of pride and amusement.

“C’mon, Bunny!” he called out, his voice dripping with challenge. “Grab a jet ski and show ‘em what you’ve got!”

Bunny hesitated for a fraction of a second, her mind flickering with the faintest trace of Emily’s voice: What are you doing? This is insane.

But then she heard the crowd, their cheers echoing like a tidal wave. She saw Blaine, his grin cocky and utterly irresistible. The heat of the moment swelled in her chest, drowning out doubt, and she threw her head back with a laugh, the sound bright and carefree.

“I guess we’re doing this!” she giggled, her voice tinged with a giddy surrender.

She pushed through the glittering foam, her body sliding effortlessly as the suds clung to her skin. Jet skis were lined up at the far end of the pool, their neon colors glowing like candy-coated confections. Contestants scrambled toward them, slipping and sliding in the foam. One of the Chads—Lad, probably—grabbed a bright pink kiddie floatie instead of a jet ski, shouting, “I’m still in this!” as he paddled furiously with his noodle.

Bunny reached the lineup and grabbed a hot pink jet ski emblazoned with glittering flames. She swung one leg over the seat, her wet thighs gliding against the slick surface. But as she climbed on, her aerobics outfit caught on the edge of the handlebars.

There was a sudden, audible snap.

The thin fabric gave way and tore off, almost as if it was designed to do so, actually exactly as if it was designed to do so,, and Bunny froze, her eyes widening as the top disappeared into the foam. The crowd gasped, and for a moment, a flicker of Emily’s embarrassment surfaced. Just like before she instinctively raised her hands to cover her chest, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson.

But Blaine’s voice cut through the chaos like a lifeline.

“Don’t even think about it, babe,” he called, his grin widening. “That’s not Bunny. You’re not here to hide—you’re here to shine.”

Her heart thudded in her chest, the warmth of his approval washing over her like sunlight. Slowly, tentatively, she lowered her hands. She glanced down at her bare chest, the foam and glitter clinging to her skin like a scandalous masterpiece, and a mischievous smile curved her lips.

Bunny grabbed a white dry T-shirt from a pile nearby and tied it around herself. The thin fabric was so sheer that it might as well not have been there,  and the moment it got wet all of her glistening curves would be visible beneath every damp contour.

The crowd went wild.

Blaine’s whistle cut through the cheers, low and appreciative. “Now that’s my girl,” he said, his voice thick with pride.

Bunny giggled, the sound bubbly and carefree as she revved the jet ski’s engine. The vibration hummed beneath her, sending a shiver through her body. Her glossy hair clung to her face, and she swiped it back, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Let’s do this!” she shouted, her voice high-pitched and breathy, fully embracing the chaos.

As the starting buzzer blared, Bunny launched forward, the jet ski slicing through the foam. Water and glitter sprayed in every direction as she gripped the handlebars, the wet T-shirt clinging tighter with every splash. Behind her, Blaine stood with his arms crossed, his grin wide and unrelenting as he watched her disappear into the swirling neon madness ahead.

—

The course was a chaotic masterpiece of excess and neon-drenched decadence, each jet ski as wild and distinctive as the contestants riding them. Bunny’s jet ski was the crown jewel—a hot pink glitter bomb of a machine, complete with a pulsating underglow and a built-in boombox blasting Madonna’s Material Girl at full volume. It shimmered like a beacon in the twilight, every angle catching the light and throwing it back in dazzling sparkles.

The announcer’s voice crackled over the loudspeakers, sleazy and full of glee. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the most slippery, sexy spectacle on the seven seas—the Jet Ski Wet T-Shirt Relay Wet Noodle Jousting Extravaganza! Watch as these bodacious bombshells hold on for dear life, all while giving us a show that’ll make your heart—and maybe a few other things—pound!”

Bunny flushed at the lewd commentary but couldn’t suppress a giggle as she climbed onto her jet ski. The sleek, slippery surface felt cool beneath her, the glitter already sticking to her oiled thighs as she adjusted her grip on the handlebars. Around her, the other contestants mounted their themed jet skis, each one a riot of color and absurdity.

Trixie Tumbleweed’s jet ski was shaped like a unicorn, complete with a glowing horn that shot out jets of glitter-infused water. Candy Crush’s machine was bedecked with twinkling rhinestones, and every rev of the engine sent a cascade of sparkles into the air. Misty Mayhem’s punk-rock jet ski featured spikes along the sides and a booming subwoofer that rattled the water. Darla Delight’s pastel confection looked like a giant cupcake, frosting included.

The announcer continued, his tone dripping with innuendo. “And let’s not forget the real stars of the show: those wet T-shirts! Every time these beauties hand one off, it gets wetter, tighter, and just a little more... revealing. You won’t want to blink, folks!”

Bunny glanced down at her own T-shirt—dry for now but just barely. The thin white fabric clung to her curves, hinting at what lay beneath. Without a bikini top underneath, her nipples were already beginning to poke through slightly, the anticipation of what was to come making her pulse race. She could feel the eyes of the crowd on her, and instead of shrinking under their gaze, she straightened, a playful smirk curving her lips.

Let them look, she thought, a surge of confidence warming her from the inside out. Bunny doesn’t hide.

The course stretched out ahead, an insane labyrinth of glowing buoys, ramps that launched into fiery hoops, and foam-spraying mechanical sharks. The water churned with the anticipation of the riders, jets of rainbow-colored spray shooting into the air. Around the track, audience members wielded oversized Super Soakers, eager to drench anyone who dared pass too close.

“Riders, take your marks!” the announcer shouted. “And remember—style points matter as much as speed! Let’s see those T-shirt handoffs done with flair, passion, and maybe a little scandal!”

The horn blared, and the chaos began.

Bunny leaned forward, her engine roaring to life as she sped across the foamy surface. Water splashed up around her, soaking her T-shirt in an instant. The thin fabric clung to her skin like a second layer, becoming almost transparent as it revealed the full, luscious curves of her breasts. Her nipples stood out prominently, the cool water and adrenaline combining in an electrifying rush. The crowd roared its approval, and Bunny couldn’t help but toss her head back and laugh, the exhilaration washing over her.

As she reached the first relay point, Trixie Tumbleweed wobbled next to her, her unicorn jet ski shooting out a wild spray of glitter that blinded them both momentarily. Bunny let out a squeal as Trixie handed off her wet T-shirt with a dramatic twirl. The sodden garment slapped into Bunny’s chest with a satisfying splat, and she quickly shrugged out of her own shirt to don the next one.

The act of changing shirts on the jet ski was an erotic dance in itself. Bunny’s wet skin gleamed in the lights, droplets cascading down her toned stomach and pooling in the hollow of her collarbone as she peeled off her T-shirt. The audience whooped as her bare chest was momentarily exposed, her nipples glistening before she pulled on the new, impossibly smaller T-shirt. It clung even tighter than the last, the wet fabric hugging every curve as if painted on.

“Look at that handoff!” the announcer cried, his voice practically salivating. “Bunny knows how to work the relay—and the crowd!”

The course grew wilder as Bunny sped forward, dodging jets of foam from the mechanical sharks and narrowly missing a ramp that launched Candy Crush through a flaming hoop. Behind her, Chad clung to a floating cooler, his pool noodle raised like a makeshift lance as he shouted, “I’m still in this!” A wave from Blaine’s commandeered jet ski sent him spinning into a buoy, the impact sending a plume of water and foam skyward.

At the next relay station, Bunny faced Misty Mayhem, who twirled her spiked jet ski menacingly. The punk-rocker tossed her a soaking wet T-shirt, the heavy fabric slapping against Bunny’s chest. She slipped out of her current shirt, her breasts bouncing free for a moment as the crowd erupted in cheers. The new T-shirt was practically a rag by this point, clinging to her body like a whisper of modesty. Her nipples pressed against the sheer fabric, dark and prominent, and she could feel the water jets from the audience adding to the sensual chaos.

The relay continued, each handoff a mix of sensuality and absurdity. Bunny found herself laughing freely, her earlier reservations melting away as she reveled in the insanity. The wet T-shirts shrank with each exchange, becoming little more than glorified crop tops. By the time she reached the jousting section, her T-shirt was tied precariously around her chest, her bronzed skin shimmering in the glow of the neon lights.

The pool noodles were oversized and ridiculously colorful, but they were also surprisingly effective weapons. Bunny faced off against Candy Crush first, their jet skis circling each other in a watery dance. Candy swung her noodle with theatrical flair, sending a cascade of water toward Bunny, who squealed and ducked just in time.

“C’mon, babe!” Blaine shouted from the sidelines, his deep voice carrying over the noise. “Knock her out and show them who’s queen!”

Bunny grinned, her heart racing as she leaned into the chaos. She swung her noodle with all her strength, the foam weapon connecting with Candy’s side and sending the voluptuous redhead tumbling into the water. The crowd roared as Bunny raised her noodle in triumph, her T-shirt clinging so tightly it left nothing to the imagination.

One by one, Bunny faced off against her competitors, each joust more intense and erotic than the last. Water and foam sprayed everywhere, the neon lights casting an otherworldly glow over the spectacle. Bunny’s confidence grew with each victory, her laughter mingling with the crowd’s cheers as she embraced every moment of the absurdity.

As she dispatched her final opponent before the next round, she turned to see Veronica and Charlotte, both perched on their jet skis and glaring at her with a mix of envy and determination. Their eyes locked onto hers, and Bunny felt a delicious thrill of anticipation ripple through her.

“Looks like we’ve got some serious competition coming up!” the announcer crowed. “Bunny’s on fire, but can she handle not one but two challengers? Stay tuned, folks—this is gonna be one hell of a ride!”

Bunny adjusted her wet T-shirt, the soaked fabric doing little to hide her curves as she readied herself. Her lips curled into a mischievous smile. “Bring it on,” she whispered, her voice dripping with bimbo pride.  

–

The air was thick with glitter and adrenaline as Bunny revved her jet ski, her wet T-shirt clinging to every curve like a second skin. Veronica and Charlotte idled on either side of her, their jet skis bobbing with the waves, their eyes locked on her with a predatory mix of rivalry and intrigue. The crowd roared, sensing the tension, while the announcer’s voice blared over the loudspeakers, dripping with sleaze and excitement.

“Well, well, folks! Looks like we’ve got a ménage à trois of mayhem brewing on the high seas! Three gorgeous competitors, one undeniable king watching from the sidelines. Who’s going to make the biggest splash—and who’s going to go down first?”

Bunny giggled breathlessly, flipping her soaking hair over her shoulder. Her glitter-slick skin sparkled under the neon lights, and her breath hitched as she stole a glance at Blaine on the shore. His sapphire-blue eyes were fixed on her, his arms crossed over his bronzed chest, his smirk radiating approval. The heat of his gaze sent a shiver down her spine.

All of this. For him.

Veronica leaned closer on her jet ski, her pastel bikini dripping with water. Her lips curved into a sly smile as she reached out, her fingers brushing Bunny’s arm. “You know,” she murmured, her voice low and honeyed, “we don’t have to fight, babe. We could... work together. Make Blaine see we’re a team.”

Bunny blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “A team?” she echoed, her voice tinged with breathy confusion.

Veronica’s smile deepened as she leaned in further, her chest pressing subtly against Bunny’s arm. “Of course, Bunny. You and me? We could make him so happy.”

The crowd erupted into wild cheers, and the announcer’s voice boomed with glee. “Oh, what’s this? A little alliance forming on the high seas? Or maybe something steamier? Stay tuned, folks—this could get wetter than we ever imagined!”

Before Bunny could respond, Charlotte pulled up on her sleek black jet ski, her golden hair shining like a halo under the lights. Her smirk was pure dominance as she reached out and grabbed Bunny’s other arm, pulling her attention away from Veronica.

“Don’t listen to her,” Charlotte said, her voice sharp and commanding. “If you want to be the queen of Bikini Week, you need to take charge. Show him you’re more than just a pretty face. Show him you’re the best.”

Bunny’s lips parted, her cheeks flushing as she glanced between the two women. The push-and-pull between their approaches left her giddy, confused, and thrilled all at once.

Veronica pouted, her fingers trailing down Bunny’s arm. “This could all be over you know.  All you have to do is just stop.  You cold be a nobody.  Never have to do anything lewd or embarrassing or sexual again.  Don’t you want to stop all this, Bunny? I see the real you under all this.”

Bunny giggled, her head tilting as she leaned into Veronica’s touch. “The real me? The real me loves this!” she declared, throwing her arms wide. “All of it! The crowd, the chaos, the attention... and Blaine!”

The crowd roared again, and the announcer’s voice rang out. “Looks like Bunny’s got her priorities straight, folks! She’s here for the glory—and maybe a little something extra!”

Charlotte scoffed, her grip on Bunny’s arm tightening. “If you’re going to be queen, you’ll have to prove it,” she challenged, her tone dripping with authority.

Bunny’s heart raced as she felt herself being pulled in both directions. Veronica’s soft, seductive warmth and Charlotte’s sharp, competitive edge created a whirlwind of tension that left her breathless.

And then Veronica grinned, reaching down to a compartment in her jet ski. “Maybe this will help us all... get closer.”

With a dramatic flourish, she pulled out an inflatable island, the bright pink platform emblazoned with the words Pleasure Paradise. She pressed a button, and the island began to inflate rapidly, its edges lined with cushions and neon lights.

The announcer practically lost his mind. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have liftoff! An inflatable island of ecstasy has joined the competition! Who’s ready for some offshore intimacy?”

Veronica climbed onto the island, her movements slow and deliberate as her wet skin glistened under the lights. She turned back to Bunny, holding out a hand. “Come on, babe. Let’s give them a show.”

Charlotte smirked and followed suit, her toned body moving with predatory grace as she settled onto the island. “Let’s see if you can handle both of us, Bunny,” she taunted, her voice a low purr.

Bunny hesitated for a moment, her gaze darting to Blaine. His expression was unreadable, but the heat in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Do it, babe!” he called, his voice carrying over the waves. “Show them why you’re the queen!”

Her heart soared as she climbed onto the island, the crowd’s chants of her name fueling her every move.

“Bunny! Bunny! Bunny!”

The moment she joined them, Veronica slid closer, her fingers brushing Bunny’s thigh as she whispered, “For Blaine.”

Charlotte leaned in from the other side, her hand trailing along Bunny’s waist. “All for him.”

Bunny giggled, her cheeks flushed as their touches ignited a fire within her. “For Blaine,” she agreed breathlessly.

The three women moved closer, their bodies glistening with water and glitter as they pressed together. Veronica’s lips brushed Bunny’s cheek, while Charlotte’s hands found her hips. The crowd went wild, and the announcer’s voice practically purred. “Oh, folks, this is the kind of teamwork we love to see! Three stunning competitors, but of course, they need one lucky guy.  To join them!  Let me just see who is randomly chosen for that position…Seat A1!  Who is in in A1?”

“Well, well, folks! Looks like the competition’s heating up, and by heating up, I mean it’s a hot, wet, steamy mess! Our ladies are looking ready to ride—and we’re not just talking about the jet skis!”

Bunny’s heart pounded as she watched Blaine rise from his seat in the crowd. His bronzed, oil-slicked torso gleamed like a marble statue under the lights, every muscle rippling with unspoken dominance. The announcer practically drooled into the microphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen, from seat A1—our randomly chosen lucky guy, and what do you know—it’s the King of Bikini Beach himself! Blaine is stepping up to claim his throne! Somebody hold my mic; I might faint!”

Blaine dived into the water with a grace that belied his massive frame, emerging moments later like a god of the ocean. He swam toward the island, his powerful strokes cutting through the waves. On his way, he passed Brad, who had finally managed to clamber onto a jet ski after endless, hapless effort. Without missing a beat, Blaine shoved him off and commandeered the vehicle.

“Sorry, Brad, but this jet ski isn’t big enough for both your ego and Blaine’s massive... personality!” the announcer quipped, eliciting a roar of laughter from the crowd.

Blaine reached the inflatable island in no time, pulling himself up in one fluid motion. Water streamed from his sculpted body as he stood, towering over the three women, who instinctively drew closer to him. Bunny’s breath hitched as his piercing blue eyes locked onto hers.

“Ladies,” Blaine drawled, his voice deep and dripping with smug authority, “looks like you’ve got room for one more.”

“Oh-ho-ho! Did you hear that, folks? Blaine’s here to ride the wave of destiny! And these lucky ladies are about to get the ride of their lives!”

Bunny felt her throat go dry as his piercing blue eyes locked onto her. She knew—God, she knew—this was her moment. Everything she had done, every inch of transformation, every wild, chaotic, ridiculous choice, had led her here. She had become Bunny for him. For this.

The crowd erupted in cheers, their chants of “Bunny! Bunny!” mingling with the announcer’s gleeful double entendres. “Oh-ho, folks! Looks like the King of Bikini Beach himself is claiming his throne—and his queens! Talk about riding the wave of destiny!”

Veronica leaned in first, her soft, supple body pressing against Bunny’s side. Her lips brushed Bunny’s ear, her breath warm and teasing. “We’re all here for him, aren’t we?” she whispered, her voice dripping with seduction. “But we can’t make it too easy. He has to earn it.”

Charlotte, never one to be outdone, let her hands slide down Bunny’s slick waist, her nails grazing her skin. “Speak for yourself, sugar,” she purred, her voice low and commanding. “I’m here to make sure she knows her place. After all, queens don’t just sit pretty—they fight for the crown.”

Bunny’s laugh was breathless, high-pitched, and utterly Bunny. “Babe,” she giggled, her hands fluttering nervously but not pulling away, “I think we’re all on the same team here. Team Blaine.”

“Damn right you are,” Blaine rumbled, stepping closer. He placed one massive, calloused hand on Bunny’s hip, the other trailing over Veronica’s bare shoulder. “Now let’s see if you ladies can keep up.”

Veronica moved first, her lips claiming Bunny’s in a kiss that was soft, teasing, exploratory. Bunny’s eyes fluttered shut, her body melting into the moment as Veronica’s hands slid up to cup her face, the pads of her thumbs brushing her cheeks. Charlotte wasted no time, her mouth trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down Bunny’s neck, her tongue darting out to taste the salt and sweat on her skin.

“Folks, we’ve got tongue on tongue action! These ladies are diving deep into the wet zone! Somebody get my mother—she needs to see this!”

Blaine growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating through the air as he stepped forward, his presence towering, his arousal unmistakable. His hands found Veronica’s hips, pulling her flush against him as he claimed her lips in a kiss that was anything but soft. Veronica moaned into his mouth, her body arching toward him as Bunny gasped, caught between them.

Charlotte’s hands roamed over Bunny’s slick, glitter-covered skin, her fingers curling into the hem of her soaked T-shirt. With one sharp tug, the fabric came free, leaving Bunny bare to the waist, her breasts glistening under the neon lights. “There she is,” Charlotte murmured, her voice heavy with approval. “The queen of the beach.”

Bunny blushed, but there was no room for modesty here. Not with Blaine’s eyes darkening, his hand reaching out to cup one perfect, slicked globe. His thumb brushed over her nipple, and she gasped, her head tipping back as pleasure shot through her.

“Bunny,” he murmured, his voice rough and commanding. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

Veronica’s lips found Bunny’s again, her hands tangling in her hair as Blaine’s touch sent waves of heat coursing through her body. Charlotte moved behind her, her hands gripping Bunny’s hips as she pressed her own body flush against hers, her lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“You’re perfect like this,” Charlotte whispered, her voice a low, intimate rasp. “Soft, submissive, and ready to please. Aren’t you, Bunny?”

“Yes,” Bunny breathed, her voice trembling but certain. “Yes, I’m ready.”

Blaine stepped back for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the tableau before him—Bunny’s flushed, glistening body caught between Veronica’s seductive touch and Charlotte’s dominant grasp. He smirked, his hand tugging at the waistband of his board shorts, letting them fall to reveal his impressive arousal.

Bunny knelt before him her eyes, wide and adoring, flickered up to his, seeking reassurance. “Blaine…” she murmured, her voice trembling with anticipation, her lips parted and waiting.

Behind her, Veronica and Charlotte exchanged a glance—not of rivalry now, but of shared understanding. This was about him, about feeding his ego and his desire until there was nothing left. Veronica’s hands glided over Bunny’s slick shoulders, her lips pressing soft kisses along her neck as she whispered, “Don’t be shy, babe. Show him you’re ready.”

Charlotte’s approach was bolder. She stood behind Blaine, her hands snaking around his torso, her nails grazing his sculpted abs as she pressed her body flush against his back. Her breath was hot against his ear as she murmured, “You’ve got all of us, Blaine. Let us make you feel like the king you are.”

Blaine groaned low in his throat, his hand tangling in Bunny’s wet hair, tugging just enough to tilt her face upward. His blue eyes burned as he studied her. “You’re mine, Bunny,” he growled, his voice rough with want. “All of you are.”

The declaration sent a shiver through her, and she responded instinctively, her lips brushing against the length of him, her soft gasps mixing with the sounds of the waves and the crowd’s distant chants. Veronica joined her, her lips trailing kisses along his other thigh, her hands stroking upward with teasing confidence. Charlotte, not to be outdone, stepped around to face him, her bold gaze locking onto his as she pressed her body closer, her hands trailing down to join the others.

“Let me show you how it’s done,” Charlotte purred, her voice dripping with confidence as she leaned in, taking him in her hands with a deliberate stroke. Bunny followed, her hands tentative but eager as she worked alongside Charlotte, their movements perfectly synchronized.

Blaine’s head tipped back, his breath escaping in a sharp hiss. “Fuck, you girls are too good at this,” he muttered, his voice thick with pleasure. His hands alternated between Bunny’s hair and Charlotte’s waist, his touch possessive and electric.

Veronica, her competitive streak flaring, slid closer, her lips brushing against Bunny’s cheek as she whispered, “Let’s make him lose control.” She pressed her lips to Blaine’s, her kiss deep and consuming, her hands exploring the hard planes of his body with unrestrained hunger.

Blaine growled against her mouth, his control slipping as Veronica’s boldness spurred him on. “You’re all too fucking perfect,” he muttered, his voice ragged as his hips began to move in time with their touches.

When the moment reached its peak, Bunny pulled back slightly, her lips swollen and her breath coming in gasps. “Blaine,” she murmured, her voice trembling but insistent, “you can’t finish with me yet. The narrative—”

“The what?” Blaine groaned, his frustration palpable as his eyes darkened.

“The climax,” she whispered, her words laced with an edge of Emily’s calculated logic. “You have to wait for it.”

His jaw tightened, his hands gripping her shoulders as he let out a low, frustrated growl. “Fine. But I’m not waiting for them.” His gaze shifted to Veronica, who was already poised and eager.

She straddled him in one smooth motion, her body arching as he entered her with a mutual gasp. Her hips moved in slow, deliberate circles, her moans blending with the sounds of Bunny’s breathless encouragement and Charlotte’s whispered taunts.

“Show him what you’ve got, Veronica,” Charlotte teased, her hand sliding over Blaine’s chest. “Make him remember your name!”

“Somebody call a lifeguard,” the announcer hollered, “because this is a four-alarm wet dream! And I am NOT waking up!”

Blaine’s grip on Veronica’s hips tightened as his movements grew erratic. “Fuck, Veronica,” he groaned, his voice a mix of pleasure and restraint. Just as the tension broke, Bunny tugged at his shoulder, her voice soft but commanding.

“Now,” she whispered, guiding him away from Veronica just in time. His first release spilled into Veronica’s wet dripping pussy, her sharp inhale turning into a wicked grin, but before the second wave could follow, Bunny maneuvered him toward Charlotte, who was already ready and waiting. “Your turn,” Bunny said, her voice tinged with pride as Charlotte sank onto him with a low moan and his second and third ropes spurted inside of her.  

When the final release came, Blaine’s growl echoed across the water, his body shuddering as Charlotte gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders.

They collapsed together in a tangle of limbs, the inflatable island gently rocking beneath them. Blaine’s chest heaved as he looked down at the three women, his smirk returning as he murmured, “You’re all fucking perfect.”

Bunny, her cheeks flushed and her body still trembling, nestled against him with a contented sigh. “We’re not done yet,” she whispered, her voice filled with playful promise. “This queen still has to win.”

Veronica and Charlotte lay sprawled in satisfied exhaustion, their limbs tangled and glitter-dusted, the faint rise and fall of their breathing the only sign of life. But Bunny's adrenaline was still spiking. Her eyes darted to Blaine, who reclined beside her like a king surveying his kingdom, a self-satisfied smirk curling his lips.

Bunny’s gaze flickered toward the foam noodles stacked neatly on the edge of the island—remnants of the wild jousting chaos. A mischievous grin spread across her face.

“Sometimes,” she whispered, leaning closer to Blaine, her lips brushing against his ear, “it’s fun to be the bully, isn’t it? Girls like that…” Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial murmur. “They have their place—beneath us.”

Blaine’s smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with approval. “You’re learning, Bunny,” he drawled, his voice low and indulgent.

With a quick, fluid motion, Bunny seized one of the oversized noodles and stood, the wobbling of the inflatable island only adding to the drama. She spun the noodle over her head like a gladiator preparing for battle, then turned her gaze down to her unsuspecting rivals.

“Sorry, ladies,” she cooed, though the glint in her eye betrayed anything but remorse. “This queen still has to win her crown.”

Before either Veronica or Charlotte could react, Bunny brought the noodle down with a dramatic splat onto Veronica’s stomach. The impact sent Veronica rolling off the edge of the island with a splash, her surprised gasp turning into laughter as she hit the water.

“Bunny!” Veronica sputtered, resurfacing and flipping her drenched hair out of her face.

But Bunny was already pivoting toward Charlotte. “Don’t think I forgot about you, sugar,” she teased. With another mighty swing, she bopped Charlotte square on the back, toppling the blonde headfirst into the water.

“Damn it, Bunny!” Charlotte shrieked, emerging from the waves, her glare softened by an amused smirk. “You’re gonna pay for that!”

Bunny twirled the noodle triumphantly, her grin dazzling as she turned to Blaine, who was now laughing outright.

“Last girl standing!” she shouted, spinning to face the spectators on the shore. She thrust the noodle into the air like a warrior holding a sword of victory. “I’m your champion!”

The crowd erupted into wild cheers and laughter, their energy fueled by her unabashed display of dominance.

The announcer’s voice cut through the chaos, dripping with innuendo as always. “And there you have it, folks—the queen of the relay, the undisputed champion! Looks like Bunny’s not just riding jet skis—she’s riding the wave of victory straight into our hearts…and maybe a few other places!”

The crowd hooted and hollered, signs waving in the air with lewd slogans even more inspired now.

“Let’s hear it for Bunny, everyone!” the announcer continued, his tone as suggestive as ever. “Now, let’s get this chaos cleaned up and move on to the next event! Can our reigning queen keep her crown, or will someone finally knock her off her throne? Stay tuned!”

Bunny turned to Blaine, the cheers washing over her like a heady wave of power. She tossed the noodle aside and perched herself beside him, her body still buzzing from the thrill of victory.

“Told you,” she said softly, her voice laced with playful arrogance, “it’s good to be the queen.”

Blaine pulled her closer, his smirk never faltering. “You’re getting so very close babe…” he murmured.  Bunny barely had time to register his words (close to what?) before Blaine was scooping her off the inflatable island, his bronzed arms lifting her effortlessly like she was some prize he had just claimed in front of the entire beach. The crowd erupted into cheers and wolf whistles, their energy electric as the neon glow of the floating carnival painted their faces in vivid blues and pinks. Bunny giggled, her glitter-slick skin pressing against Blaine’s chest as he carried her toward the Muscle BBQ Eating Tug-of-War Surf-Off.

“I gotta say, babe,” Blaine began, his voice a rich, smug drawl as he adjusted his grip, one hand sliding provocatively down to her ass before giving it a firm squeeze. “I didn’t know you swung both ways, but damn, watching you with Veronica and Charlotte? You almost liked it, huh?”

Bunny’s breath hitched, both at his words and the way his fingers lingered. She swatted his chest playfully, though her grin was far from innocent. “Guess that makes me versatile, huh?” she teased, her tone dripping with faux innocence. “Just like the wet T-shirts—you gotta handle me with care, big guy. I might get slippery.”

As they reached the next staging area, Blaine paused, setting Bunny down on a wooden bench as she changed into the new swimsuit he had given her; a jaw-droppingly high-cut, nearly gravity-defying swimsuit that’s more a tantalizing suggestion of clothing than actual coverage. The fabric—a glossy, shimmering neon pink that catches the light like polished candy—is so thin it almost appears painted onto her skin, hugging every curve with scandalous precision. It arches dramatically from the narrow strip of fabric covering her lower half, rising impossibly high over her hips, leaving her long, toned legs looking like they could stretch for miles.

The cut is absurdly bold, soaring past the usual limits of 80’s swimwear, and practically brushing her waistline. It accentuates the sharp curve of her hips, teasing glimpses of skin in all the right places. A tiny triangle of fabric barely covers her chest, held up by impossibly slender straps that loop over her shoulders and down her back in a web-like design, crisscrossing to frame her lithe figure. The back dips low—dangerously low—leaving most of her smooth, sun-kissed skin on display, save for the teasing sliver of fabric clinging just above her tailbone.

The overall effect? Pure, unadulterated confidence. This is a garment that doesn’t whisper but shouts about its wearer’s daring sense of style. The way Bunny moves in it is magnetic; every step seems to highlight the deliberate impracticality of the outfit, her long legs gliding with a feline grace, her hips swaying like a hypnotic metronome. It's the kind of bikini that looks like it belongs more in a midnight fantasy than on an actual beach, yet Bunny wears it like it’s her birthright.

Emily would be utterly scandalized by the mere sight of it—a flush of embarrassment painting her cheeks as she sputters out some attempt at polite disapproval. But no Emily had come to voice an opinion on it.  After all, this isn’t just a swimsuit—it’s Bunny’s declaration that she doesn’t just follow the rules; she rewrites them.

 She was so absorbed in the swimsuit she almost didn’t notice Blaine pulling something out of his pocket—a Polaroid camera.

“Smile for me, babe,” he drawled, holding the camera up and snapping a photo before she could protest.

“Blaine!” Bunny squealed, reaching for the camera as the photo began to print, but he held it high above her reach, his grin downright devilish.

“What?” he asked, feigning innocence. “Just documenting the queen of Bikini Week in all her glory.” He shook the photo, watching as the image developed—a shot of Bunny mid-giggle, her leotard practically painted onto her glitter-covered body.

Before she could protest further, Blaine turned, holding the Polaroid aloft as he passed through the crowd. “Check it out, folks!” he called out, his voice booming through the speakers as he grabbed a mic from a nearby announcer’s table. “This right here is the face of Bikini Week’s reigning queen—and, uh, everything else too!”

The crowd roared with laughter and applause as Blaine flashed the photo around, ensuring everyone got a good look. Bunny’s cheeks burned, but the thrill of the attention sent a delicious shiver through her.

Blaine didn’t stop there. As the next event loomed closer, he scooped Bunny into his arms again with exaggerated flair. “Gotta make sure everyone sees who’s got the hottest girl on this beach,” he said, loud enough for nearby onlookers to hear.

“Blaine!” Bunny protested, though her giggles betrayed her enjoyment. Her hands fluttered nervously as his grip shifted, his fingers “accidentally” grazing the curve of her ass before sliding up to her waist.

“Whoops,” he said with a shrug, his smirk betraying just how intentional the move had been. “Sorry, babe. It’s a slippery situation.”

“You’re impossible!” Bunny laughed, burying her face against his neck as he strode forward, every muscle in his bronzed body flexing with purpose. She could feel the heat of his skin against her own, the heady scent of salt and coconut oil wrapping around her like a drug.