When my friend Tom came up to me with his stupid idea, I shot him down right away. "Do you know how many guys with a camera there are at Springbreak? Thousands!" "Proves it works!" he replied. That got me thinking, but even then, I just didn't see how we could proceed. I mean we go to cute babes and ask them to strip? "That might very well work, my friend," he said with a slight smile. "But that's not what I have in mind." I was real skeptical, but I at least was ready to listen. "You know how girls enlist in these contests? Wet t-shirts, bikinis and so on…" "Yeah. I've seen a million sites with drunken college girls flashing at just about anything with eyes to see. But most of those girls…they're quite ordinary." "But we want the very best. The top babes. And not just flashing us. Putting themselves on the line, body and soul. And for that, I have an idea." I was listening. Something in his attitude told me his idea might just not be as stupid as I expected. So by the next week, we were in a popular Springbreak spot with a roll of tape and a stack of color posters. Tom had insisted the quality of the printing be top notch. "If that looks cheap, we'll only get crap. We want the girls to understand this is the real deal. But that's only part one of the plan, remember?" "Yeah. But I just haven't seen what we're looking for just yet." What we were looking for was a pair of extremely beautiful friends. Tom had explained why, but I really wasn't sure it would work. "You gotta have faith in the competitive nature of women!" he kept saying. I had spotted pairs of cute babes here and there, but Tom wouldn't compromise. "I'm not putting all that energy in this so we can have babes we could get with a couple of beers and a smile!" So I moved on to the next tree, the next post, duct-taping posters. At least I was out in the sun watching beautiful girls. Some had it worse! Later, as I was taping a poster on a palm tree, I spotted them. They were sunbathing on long chairs, side by side. The bikinis they wore were the smallest on the beach, as far as I could tell. The bikinis would've been enough to drive the swimsuit-fetishist that I am crazy, but the flimsy garments were straining to cover the sexiest bodies I had ever seen, live or on pictures. I mean the models on the pictures we swiped from the Net to illustrate our poster looked ordinary compared to them. And to top it all off, they each had a magnificent pair of DD breasts (at least) that certainly cost their daddies a small fortune. It was Springbreak, so they probably were college girls, but I was more inclined to say they were high-schoolers. I held my stack of posters in front of my groin to hide my erection and I was about to move in on them when Tom grabbed my arm. "Wait a minute, man. No hurry. Let's observe our specimens first." I didn't see what we could learn beyond the obvious: They were angels in bikinis sent on Earth to test the seams of every man's swim trunks. "See how apparently oblivious they are to their surroundings. They look like they don't care about the guys' attention at all. And yet you couldn't make one decent bikini from the fabric of theirs combined. They know guys are watching. They thrive on the attention." I agreed. So it was only going to be easier to draw them in. "But look closely." That's all I was doing! Felt like we were on Animal Planet doing a show about the North-American female springbreaker. I had a flash of Tom with an Aussie accent wrestling one of these girls to exhaustion before tagging her ear. "OK. See that guy with the bodysurf board? Over there?" I couldn't understand how he could see a guy when my vision was monopolized by these two. And yet I made an effort and tore my focus away from them for a split-second. The guy was tanned, muscular, with white trunks and water dripping all over him. "OK, both girls spotted him looking at them. Let's observe." A minute or so passed. Then the redhead with cute freckles slowly arched her back, pushing her huge breasts up while adjusting the small triangles on her nipples. "What looked like a very innocuous adjustment is in fact the first step in the courtship dance, my friend," Tom narrated. "Now, let's see what the reply will be." The blonde turned on her tummy in the same slow, deliberate way her redhead friend had used to arch her back. She made sure she was turning in the direction of the guy, her heavy breasts brushing hard against the fabric of the chair. "That was the reply. The blonde just stole the attention from the redhead. Without even exchanging a word, they are both in competition mode. They went from friends to rivals in the second it took them to notice the guy." I was about to tell him he was reading too much into it when the redhead sat up and sensuously wrapped her pouty lips around the straw in a piña colada she picked up from the sand next to her chair. Then, after taking a long sip, she picked the pineapple chunk on the rim of her glass and took a bite, a drop of juice falling on her tanned belly, rolling slowly between her chiseled abs. "My god, I'm about to burst in my trunks!" I said. "Wait. This isn't over!" Indeed, the blonde upped the ante by slowly untying her top before she reached for her own drink, a pink beverage with sugar crystals on the rim. Then she brought the glass to her lips, slowly lifting her torso, lifting, lifting until everybody on that beach was watching for her nipple to show. Then she swallowed a mouthful and put the drink back down before she mashed her hooters against the fabric of the chair again. Tom was ecstatic. "These two beauties are in fierce competition with one another. Everything they do is aimed at stealing the other's spotlight. They only want a guy if the other wants him too, and then they probably steal each other's conquests just so they'll hear the guy say they are better, sexier than the other." On these words, Tom took off with his own stack of posters strategically placed to conceal his own bulge. I bolted behind him, so I wouldn't miss anything. "Ladies," Tom saluted. They looked at him noncommittally, not shooting him down, but not inviting him to go forward either. "My friend and I are organizing a little contest tomorrow." I smiled a greeting that looked more like I just swallowed a fly while he handed the redhead a poster. "A 'Best Chest Contest'?" she asked, intrigued. The blonde was struggling to tie her top so she could take a look. "Yep. First prize is getting your very own paysite on the TopModel.com server. We put these posters everywhere, but my associate and I are instructed to look for girls we think would be the next big Internet star and invite them personally as well. May I ask your name?" he said, looking straight at the redhead as if she were alone on the beach. "Nancy." "I can see it now: NancySizzles.com. I'd pay to look at it!" "What makes you think we'd be interested," the blonde cut in. Tom looked at her with fake surprise. "Oh, you'd be interested? Of course you could sign up too…" I was not as perceptive as Tom was, but even I could see the jealous look she tried to conceal behind a smile that melted my heart as she grabbed the poster I handed her. "So can we count on you, Nancy? And your lovely friend too, of course!" With a giggle that was just too cute and made her perfect breasts jiggle, Nancy said they'd "think about it." As he was taping another poster to the next palm tree, Tom glanced at the girls. "My friend, get ready, because tomorrow will be the best day of your entire life!"