A combo of wet t-shirt and dancing

"It's a wet t-shirt competition," he told her. "Except instead of just standing there you'll be dancing on stage while they soak you intermittently."

"Inter..." she frowned.

"They'll spray you every ten seconds of your thirty second dance," he said tiredly.

Bria didn't bother to respond as she turned away. She wasn't really dressed for a competition like this. Hopefully they'd have some clothes she could borrow.

She'd walked no farther than ten feet from the guy who'd done her paperwork when the partition screens gave way to a much larger room full of giggling girls, a few older people who were obviously assistants, and a whole lot of clothes racks.

And the cameras, she realized.

"Hey," she said to one of the girls, some poor mousy thing with itty bitty bumps instead of breasts. "What are the cameras for?"

The girl gave her the same kind of look she'd have given someone asking if it was safe to stroll across a formula one track. "They're recording the whole thing," she said, politely leaving out the word 'obviously'.

Bria was too enchanted by the sight of people who'd film her to notice the girl's attitude, and instead asked, "Why?"

"Uh, because it's what they do? You know, 'Wet Girls'?"

"Wet Girls? What's that?" Bria asked, wondering if there was a make-up station. Cameras required a whole different application of makeup than what she had on.

Politeness forgotten, the girl rolled her eyes. "It's a series of videos. Kind of like Girls Gone Wild, but it's beach competitions."

Bria's lips parted in pleasure, looking a little like she did upon orgasming. A published video where she could hog the limelight! She definitely needed to look her best for this.

So thinking she went looking at the clothes, knowing that she'd have to find something before the other girls took it. From tiny bikinis to full-body wear they had it all. T-shirts, dresses, pants, skirts, shorts, heels or running shoes.

Bria riffled through the racks, grabbing anything that looked promising before coming away with her arms heavily loaded with clothes. Looking around she wasn't sure where she could change. There weren't any places obviously set aside for that, though if she looked farther she was sure she'd find one.

"Ten minutes, ladies!" a voice yelled out, and she knew she'd have to find a place quickly, and settle on her clothes. Eyeing the cameras she knew she had the option of either hiding from them behind a rack of clothes or changing openly, maybe putting on a show for them. A sort of teaser of what was to come. Surely that would get her more film time?