Giovanna accidentally gives Michael a taste of what's to come

"Come with me, Mr. Perv" Giovanna says, not really giving Michael a choice as he's dragged with her behind the bush.

Giovanna hands Michael her towel forcefully. "Hold this and hold it properly,” she then grabs him by the collar and says, “You drop this towel even a centimeter, and you’re dead. Capiche?”

Michael’s now sweating profusely. He nervously responds with “O-of course, Miss Giovanna, that’s what I’m here for!” before hastily holding her towel with his lanky arms outstretched to create a makeshift changing curtain for Giovanna. It reminds him of how fighters above a certain weight threshold have to undress behind a towel during a public weigh-in. Not that Michael has ever seen videos of people dropping towels during these events, of course.

“But, like I just explained to the rest of the girls, I’m not a perv-” Michael's explanation is interrupted by the second greatest thing that's happened to him today.

Giovanna, instantly forgetting the man right in front of her, has already begun undressing in front of Michael. While she normally keeps her wetsuit unzipped to create a tantalizing cleavage window, in her haste, she is showing off way more skin to a stranger.

Michael found himself hypnotized again, unable to prevent himself from watching Giovanna's downward unzipping motion. He instinctively tried to look away, but the combination of failing his newly appointed job, Giovanna's threat about dropping her towel, and general libido convinced him to continue staring.

Behind the towel, Michael can only see momentary silhouettes of Giovanna's inadvertent exposure. He can see the rough outline of her perky breasts bouncing out of her cleavage window as Giovanna bends down. For a moment, he can faintly see her pointy nipples pointing directly at him before Giovanna's arm obscures her sweater puppies. His eyes wander lower to her belly, and it was clear that any weight she had attained from her sweet tooth certainly hadn't gone to her slim waist.

Giovanna is bent down to her hips behind the towel. She is mere seconds before exposing her most womanly secret. Finally, she looks over the towel and realized she had given Michael front-row seats to her full-frontal striptease. She began blushing intensely. She partially zips back up her wetsuit with her right hand while frantically covering her swinging boobs with her left.

A flustered Giovanna, not used to **** situations, uncharacteristically squeals, "Kyaa! Don't look, creep! Turn around!"

Her thoughts rushed in wondering how much he'd seen. Her lil' tiddies? Sure, he can pay for that later. She's insecure about her puffy nipples though. But the worst case scenario would be the discovery of her secret storage compartment for all the chocolate she eats: her bottom half. No amount of extortion can wipe that wide load from his memory.

"S-sorry, Miss Giovanna!" Michael, feeling ashamed of himself, tries to say. He turns around while carefully making sure Giovanna is covered at every angle. However, this puts him closer to a pissed off, half-naked Italian woman.

"Eek! What are you doing, you freak? Do you want me to rip your little cazzo off? I didn't say to get closer to me! At least before, there was a towel separating us! I'm not going to get naked with some furbo standing in front of me!"

Giovanna eventually breathes, collects herself, and says, "Ugh, I don't want to, but I guess this is the only way you can hold the towel without gawking at me like an asshole". She leans close to the back of Michael's ear and threatens him. "Pretend you didn't see anything! And keep your eyes forward while I finish undressing! Then maybe I'll forgive your peeping tom-foolery".