God created a curious thing when he put nipples on the scene. As a science teacher who used to work in a mortuary who has a hefty background in human anatomy and who's just plain naughty (I'll admit), I've seen a fair amount of nipples in my day. And I'm not talking about the kind you can toss in the dishwasher. What I can never get over is how different they all look... but I won't get in to that.
So imagine my surprise when, with all my knowledge-o-nips, I see a grown woman with a pretty nice body lay it all bare on a beach in Cancun when HELLO! the sun has already set. She was with another girl, and the four of us clad folks were mere feet away - no one else on the beach. At the time, I was facing away from her, discussing our plans for the coming week when I saw John get VERY uncomfortable and redder than a boiling lobster. Christy just smiled and let out a giggle or two, and I kept asking what about my plan-making was so funny, but then I turned around to catch a glimpse of the pappetrator and HOLY NIP-FEST, BATMAN! Cover those things up!! What I couldn't get over was that the sun was down already, and there wasn't any bumpin' music going, so there was no reason to take Nelly's advice about what to do when it's
getting "hot in herre" (in fact, it was getting a bit - shall we say - nippy). John's embarrassment didn't disappear for days, which is nothing new, but come on!
Our planning pointed us toward Sisal - a restaurant that came highly recommended by several people around the resort establishment. We made reservations, and then later saw a commercial on TV for it. The commercial showed some really cool salsa dancing going on, and everything was touted as "dinner and Caribbean show", so you can imagine our excitement.
We get there, and they give us great seats. I see a buffet set out behind our table, so I go to check it out. You can always judge a restaurant by its buffet, and this one looked like THE BOMB. At the very least, the dessert bar looked way more incredible than those Froot Loop-covered muffins in the grocery stores. We found out that included with the buffet were any fancy drinks we wanted, so pina coladas and mango daiquiris abounded. Virgin, of course. We were filling up our tanks when the EmCee from hell began the mariachi show. The band was great, but then the Reno Reject came back on and tried to do Elvis and Louis Armstrong impersonations until the dance show began, and we were ready to throw up all the chile relleno we'd just eaten.
At that point I decided to get a taco at their made-to-order taco bar (a far cry from the Fair Oaks Roach Coach fare, but certainly passable). As the dude's filling up my taco shell, the male dancers come out doing some sort of Cuban dance, and they've got the obnoxious sleeves to match. THEN, the chicks came out. The taco dude and I just stopped and stared, and he's SEEN this show who knows how many times. I'll just show you what we saw:
Yeah, I realize it's in the corner of the picture (they were moving REALLY fast!), but it's right where your eye goes, isn't it? You don't even see the obnoxious sleeves in the back - just areola covers with attached tassels. We were absolutely fixated. Here's some more.
They did a ton of numbers, making tons of costume changes - one from each of the main Caribbean countries. We couldn't believe their stamina, nor their lack of clothing. I noticed that with all the crazy fast beats going on, nothing jiggled or shook that they didn't want jiggling or shaking. These girls have just about zero body fat, and they were barely breathing hard. As an added treat, whenever they shook their bon bon, the little faux tail would move aside and we'd see buns - LOTS of buns - that would put a steel factory to shame. We couldn't really get a good shot of it - again, too much fast movement. But you can see some serious gluteal muscles in this next one:
And what can that guy in the lower right hand corner be doing that's more interesting than what's right in front of his face?!? Even the old women (of which there were many) were riveted! I gave Ted all the permission in the world to look. Sometimes a man's wife's rack isn't enough, and I'm completely sensitive to that fact.
On a side note, what's up with "soy milk"? Is there some sort of mammary-laden plant I don't know about? Who does the extraction?
5 comments:
Oh the mamm-ories! And how 'bout them banana daquiris, huh? What I wouldn't give for another night at Sisal!
The hu-mammary-ty! You see, posts like this are not fair, especially when there are papers on cellular motility, nuclear physics, and Spanish qué-sé-yo that need to be written. It's like a giant flushing sound reverberated through my skull and all my ideas now are gone. I'm DOOMED I say, DOOMED! A curse be upon you, Allison, but I'll lift it as long as you take me with on your next excursion.
Ha ha ha ha! I'm cracking up. You say things we are all thinking. It's so true...I don't think any one rack is like another, they are all so different. I mostly can't stop laughing over John and his red face. I can see it now. Thanks for sharing!
After careful consideration (and careful scrutiny of the pictures), I've decided that as long as you decide to post photos of this genre, I am left with no other option than to overnight a better camera to you-preferably one with at least a 16fps shutter speed and lotsa zoom. Just be careful not to put an eye out (:p)
LOVE THIS POST! Let's talk nips sometime!
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