Bianca was a working girl.

She was Honduras finest.

'I know where this is heading,' said Max.

We were getting blotto by the poolside.

I couldn't even manage side stroke if my life depended on it.

'How about I do a bit of stroking of my own,' said Bianca.

Almost undressed in a tight pink bikini with a  body that had been worked over at Colombia's finest plastic surgery clinic, I bet she'd never need a life vest if she were ever 'woman overboard.'


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