First, they take in the surf comp.

The two West Aussie surf buddies and their escorts returned to the section of the observation deck that had been reserved for Toohey's representatives and their clients. Emma had been chatting amiably with the thirty-year-old Barry as they strolled back to watch the men's pro surfing competition. Robyn was once again on the arm of the twenty-four-year-old Larry.

As the four got comfortable with another bottle of the sponsor's lager, Robyn reached into Emma's straw beach bag to retrieve the spandex shorts that matched her little swimsuit. Shaking the shorts out in front of her to turn them in the right direction, the nimble blonde managed to balance on one foot as she slipped the other into a leg hole, then switched to her other foot to do the same with the other leg hole.

A chorus of moans, (or was it sighs?) arose from the crowd of males assembled on the hospitality deck behind Robyn as she pulled the aqua and white spandex up her well-curved calves and the taut backs of her golden thighs to wriggle them into place over the cheek-baring thong. Not that much was lost on the appreciative voyeurs. The low rider shorts barely covered her thong's waistband and the blonde's cheeks still peeked beneath the short leg bands. The spandex, of course, clung to every curve and crevice it covered. Her index fingers came down to the leg bands to tug the bottoms smooth and straight.

The impish blonde looked over her shoulder towards the source of the sounds of exasperation and first stuck the tip of her little pink tongue out at them through her puckered lips. She immediately followed that, though, by a friendly little smile and an 'aw shucks' shrug of her shoulders before she turned back to follow the start of the competition.

The finals of the men's competition was the most competitive of the day. Ooohs and aaahs were heard throughout the deck's crowd, as well as those on the beach, as the incredibly athletic-looking men managed to ride the increasingly turbulent waves. There were few wipeouts, even as the waves began to crest higher and break more quickly.

"The surf's getting heavy. Guaranteed there's a storm coming in," commented Barry to Emma as she stood watching beside him.

"Mmmm, looks that way," answered back the lovely brunette, her eyes glued to the borrowed binoculars as she saw the one surfer walking back up the beach. His long dark hair hung in loose wet waves to his shoulders, his body chiseled as if by a sculptor. The binoculars were strong enough for Emma to view the seawater coursing down his strong arms and over his 'six-pack' abs. While there was a break in the proceedings, the buxom brunette checked her stat sheet for the number he wore and found his name. Derek Britedeck. Sounded like a movie star. And looked like one, she thought.

As the last round was getting organized, Emma turned her attention to the couple to her right. She was kind of surprised to see Robs getting on with Larry, the other Toohey's representative. As a matter of fact, there seemed to be some definite flirting going on as they were laughing and giggling at what each other said. Quite a turnaround, she thought, from the cool reception the little blonde had first given them upon her arrival. Emma felt what seemed a little pang of jealousy. But towards who, Robyn? Or was it toward Larry?