South, towards the cliffs

More girls were pouring out of the building behind her, and Tiffany shoved her map back in her backpack. 'There's a lone red square by the lake and first cliff. I think I'll start there.'

She noted the camera above the door to, what she assumed was, the communications building; and a smile crept across her face. Purposefully, she turned around, extended her arms above her head, locked her fingers, arched her back, and thrust her huge breasts towards the camera. She tried to suppress a giggle during her stretch before she turned around and bent at the waist to touch her toes. Once again she was giving the viewing audience a perfect shot of her pussy lips for a good long moment before standing straight again to finish her stretches.

'This is a show after all,' Tiffany thought, 'Might as well give the audience what they want.'

Tiffany was an exhibitionist through and through. She loved being watched. It was a big part of what called her to exotic dancing in the first place. She loved the attention and the catcalls she got when she was up on stage; and she loved them every bit as much when she received them walking down the street too.

Tiffany had a killer body, knew it, and loved to flaunt it. Her wardrobe was designed to be three things: skimpy, sexy, and slutty. Her tops were either low-cut, or cut-off; the only pants she had were yoga pants (which she only wore to yoga); she preferred skirts instead, her motto for those being "the shorter the better". Sometimes she would feel bad for Mark when they were in public together; but, Lord bless him, if it ever made him uncomfortable he didn't show it or say anything about it.

'But none of that matters right now,' She thought.

With her stretches finished, Tiffany hastily made her way south, only to grow annoyed at the sharp stabbing of the gravel into her bare feet. "Damnit!" she cursed 'If I have to keep doing this on gravel I'm going to need some shoes.'

However, the pain grew easier as the gravel became more sporadic after about twenty minutes. Eventually, a combination of dirt and grass became the usual beneath her feet. With the easier terrain came a more brisk pace, and soon Tiffany was in a full jog as the grass became more common.

'This is more like it!' Tiffany thought enthusiastically. Shortly, she was in tall grass as several large trees sprung out of the ground (affording her some very welcome shade). She heard a rustling around her and cast a glance in the direction of the noise. An African-american girl was keeping pace with her nearly thirty feet away. They both seemed to be rushing in the direction of the cliffs. But then the girl suddenly darted up one of the trees with such ease that Tiffany couldn't help but be impressed.

'Nice moves!' She thought 'Miss. Tenebracht would be impressed!'

Her appreciation was interrupted as a booming noise reverberated throughout the island by way of thousands of speakers: "Hour's up ladies! Let the games begin."