Tabitha unbuckled her seatbelt before throwing her beach robe in the back, “Hey, dad, I wanna say thanks. I know we shouldn’t have gone messing with the medallion, and you didn’t have to do all this, but are you SURE you’ll be comfortable in a bikini? It’s not too late to turn back home and get you one of my one-pieces. If Mari knew, I’m sure she wouldn’t have made you wear something so-” she trailed off to avert her eyes as Myron leaned out of the car, accidentally exposing the fact that his bikini bottom wasn’t covering an inch of Mari’s pillowy ass.

Myron stood up, brushing his long hair out of his face, “Not to be weird, sweetie, but are you sure it’d even fit on me? I know how you feel, trust me: I’d love to clear it with Mari, too, but she’s stuck barking until her 12 hours are up, so if this is what she was planning to wear, we have no choice but to go on that. ‘Keeping up appearances,’ yes?” 

Tabitha squinted at her father. He was so blasé about the whole thing. You’d expect a man to freak out at having to go out looking like a scantily-clad woman half his age, but he was so even-keeled it was like he was discussing the weather. She wouldn’t have enjoyed seeing it if he did, but he didn’t try to sneak a peek underneath his suit even once. Calm and composed, almost inhumanly so. Typical. “Yea, whatever. Just… when we get there don’t do anything embarrassing. In fact, just find a chair and stay put. Pretend you’re tanning or something. Anyone tries to talk to you, smile and nod. Mari’ll kill us both if you tank her reputation by doing something stupid.”

Ever the stoic, Myron said nothing, giving her a firm thumbs-up before making his way to the beach- somewhat inelegantly as he was still unused to having Mari’s melon-crushing thighs rub together- and did what he was told. Tried to, anyway. He eventually grew bored in his exile, and drinking is one of the few activities you can do when you’re stuck sitting around, but with Mari’s lower alcohol tolerance, it only took one young man’s convincing for Myron to take off his top. No tan lines to deal with, obviously. Myron’s usual expressionless face was now gleaming as his new friend unabashedly copped a feel, trying and failing to get a hand around just one tit. If this display wasn’t public to begin with, Myron’s drunken, whimpering moans soon made it the case. In the moment, it was hard to say whether Mari’s social standing would diminish in the aftermath of Myron’s actions, but with half the party forming an audience to watch him swing his tatas around, it was certain “she” was the life of the party.