“The faster you go, the more it vibrates.”
Esme sat down and tapped the throttle. Her jaw dropped. “You’re a genius.”
“I know, right?” Not to honk my own boobs, but this was one of my best inventions ever. Without the vibrating seats, jet skiing was okay. But with them? It was freaking orgasmic. Literally. I couldn’t go over 50 miles per hour on these things without having a full-blown orgasm. Except that one time when Chad thought it would be fun to fuck me while we were jet skiing. #SadPenisFacts.
“Everyone ready?” I asked.
My girls all nodded super enthusiastically.
“Three…two…one…go!” I slammed the throttle and took off. “Last one to the island has to blow a stranger!” I yelled into the comms.
I got a bit of a head start, but everyone else was hot on my tail.
Well…almost everyone. Teddybear didn’t seem to be able to go over 10 miles per hour. Does he not know how to ride a jet ski?
There was no time to worry about that, though, because Slavanka had just blown by me.
“Die in gulag, losers!” she yelled into the wind. But then she made a sharp left turn and started heading around the wrong side of the island.
Huh… Apparently something had gotten lost in translation earlier when Ghostie had given us directions to the hidden cove.
That left me, Esme, and Zoraida in the race. We were all neck and neck.
I wanted to sit back and enjoy the vibrations, but I also hated losing. So I stood up and hit the throttle.
Esme and Zoraida did the same.
“I dare you girls to sit down,” I said in the comms.
“Not until we reach the cove,” replied Esme.
“Aw, come on! We’ll all sit down together. It’ll still be a fair race. Just more fun.”
“I’ll do it,” said Zoraida.
“Gah, fine,” agreed Esme.
“Three, two, one…sit!” We all sat down. And God the vibrations felt good.
I squeezed my thighs around the seat and tried to keep from losing control. And it was possible, because we weren’t quite at fifty miles per hour yet. The second we hit that, I knew I’d be a goner. And I was still really wound up from Ghostie’s growling.
Esme and Zoraida fell behind for a second, but they were able to recover pretty quickly.
We were all neck-and-neck.
But not for long.
I hit the throttle and watched the speedometer tick up towards the magic number.
Forty-seven…
Forty-eight…
Forty-nine…
I let go of the throttle.
My friends sped ahead of me. And then they hit fifty miles per hour.