Beachside

Camila dusted the sand off her knees as she got to her feet.

"Are you just gonna stand there and watch?" Camila asked.

"Only when my necklace is red. Otherwise I'd have probably been in the sand right next to you." Ellie checked her watch. "We gotta get movin', we're already late."

Camila checked her wrist. "But it's still green."

"Then we'd really better hurry, before we find a group of guys looking to spit roast you." Ellie jogged up the beach, her own sarong flowing out behind her, and Camila followed along. Her modest breasts didn't bounce much but she wished she had something with a little more support than the flimsy bikini top.

Her job was in a small cabana bar right near the water. There were a number of beach chairs laid out closer to the sand and about eight stools around the outside of the bar. For the moment, it was deserted since the bar was not open and the two women just walked on in. Camila relaxed a bit as her necklace went red again when she approached the bar.

"You just leave this open all the time?" Camila asked.

"Why not? We don't charge for any of the **** and what kind of idiot would steal?" Ellie shrugged. She tapped her necklace though, pointing to a number. "Make sure the boys see this though, that's how they'll know how to tip you."

Camila had heard no mention of tips before but there was no time to discuss it. Two men were coming out of the jungle path and down to the beach.

"I'll let you greet these guys, turn on some charm for once," Ellie teased, slapping Camila on the ass.

The two men took up spots at the stools -- both were athletic and lean, one was an older, balding white man and the other was much younger, with darker brown skin like Camila's. She approached them confidently and since she had tended bar back at home it felt familiar.

"Hello, boys. How can I help you today?" she asked, putting on a fake smile. "Wait, are you..."

The white guy laughed as Camila focused in on his companion. "See, I told ya mate! You won't even need the necklaces down here, the girls'll be ready to top ya off even when they're red."

"Yes, my name is Juan," he said, a little embarrassed.

"I'm sure you know him as 'El Bebito' though," the white guy laughed. "I'm Leon, if that matters."

"Leon Ironside?" Camila asked. "I'm Camila."

"Oh, so you know your football then?" he asked.

"Of course I do, I've been following his career since he was a teenager," Camila fangirls a bit. "You just signed him to that big deal in London?"

"Yup, 'El Bebito' is gonna be the face of our franchise. And now that he's eighteen, I brought him down here for a little signing bonus. We'll have two margaritas, love," Leon ordered, not even letting Juan get a word in edgewise.

Camila wanted to gush a little more but his order reminded her that she was at work. She turned to the blender and started mixing in the ingredients. She was only a few feet away and they didn't bother to hide their commentary.

"She's got a tight little ass to go with that sexy peanut butter skin," Leon said.

"Absolutely, coach."

"Don't 'coach' me down here, kid. Back in the world you've gotta do what I say, what the owner says, what your mom says, what your agent says... Down here? You just have to follow your dick."

"Yes, coach."

Leon laughed and shook his head. "Maybe in a few days you'll figure it out. I can teach you how to give a lady some quality fucking but we'll have to wait until her necklace goes green. Unless you can sweet talk her out of those bikini bottoms, she was eyefuc-" Camila turned on the blender to drown it out. The shame of her situation came back in a blur. Suddenly she could taste the man from the beach on her mouth again. She looked to make sure Ellie wasn't watching and took a small swig of Tequila. She washed it around in her mouth and spat it in the sink.