Mira Corvino embarked on a physical regimen that would tone her physique and at the same time give her a wonderful time as against the gym workout. She had chosen biking the 19 mile ride along the South Bay Bicycle Trail from Santa Monica Beach to Torrance Beach.
By the third week, her biking had become smooth, faster and gone to the distance she aimed for. No more muscle pains. She had gotten used to it and the bike trail itself had always been a great pleasure. It showcased the soul of L.A.'s beach towns. On any given day she would see a guy juggling on chain saws, would-be starlets skating in thongs, street musicians, gang members and other colorful cast. This is a street theater, or sand theater, a collision of New York and Hollywood. She was happy and fit as a fiddle.
One Spring Wednesday morning, when Mira was chopping on her Topanga racing bike along Marina del Rey, a volleyball hit her on the butt and she was thrown off. Four guys came up to her, as she lay sprawled on the ground. It was good that the leader of them was a licensed paramedic. He took off the helmet and her eyes were closed.
There wasn't any gush of wound, bruise on her face or back of her skull. She was wearing a white tank top, and a jersey black shorts. There was no trace of injury whatsoever.
Carefully the paramedic whose name was Frank Porter did a 'fireman's lift' on her. He carried her by his shoulder, put his right between Mira's legs and grasped her right hand, leaving his left hand free and placed it on her luscious butt as he asked Slam the Spam, one of his volleyball buddies, to get his Cherokee jeep.
"Is she hurt?' asked Sneaky Dick.
"She's in a state of shock, I gotta bring her to the hospital and see if there's some damage that caused her to pass out," Frank said.
The jeep arrived and they put her body into the passenger seat and fastened her the safety belt. "Is she gonna be all right?" asked Doodle Bug.
"All you guys stay here and I'll take care of her. Don't worry she'll be all right," Frank said and drove the jeep toward his beach house and not to the clinic.
"Where are you bringing me?" asked the now conscious Mira.
"My safe house, don't worry I'm a paramedic. I have all the facilities there. Don't move too much, you have a slight pelvic injury"
Mira frowned because she was feeling ok and her body wasn't hurting. She had a good fall as far she's concerned. She just saw that the guys coming towards her were hunks and she pretended that she was unconscious. Before she could speak again Frank had swung his jeep into the gentle sloped drive way of a nice pad with a terrace looking out to the beach.
"Careful now," said Frank and he carried her again on his shoulder and walked toward his pad, opened the door and laid her gently on a massage table. Frank had an athletic physique clad in white Adidas shorts and blue tank top, and he's got the look girls would swoon for.
"Hey, what are you planning to do with me? " Mira asked.
"Shhh!" he said and he attached a stethoscope to his ears and with the diaphragm in between his thumb and the rest of his four fingers he began placing his palm over her cleavage. As he moved his palm her nipples stood through her tank top. One of his fingers lay on top of one as he ordered her to take a deep breath.
Her breath caught every move of his hand. "Wow, you got a strong heart beat," said Frank. Then he took an opthalmoscope and examined her eyes. His face hovered above hers. She could almost smell his mint breath and she felt as though she was going to be kissed. "Alright, eyes cleared" he said.
Then he removed the knee pads and bike shoes and began examining her legs. He touched her golden tanned legs and her skin began to have goose bumps. His touch arrested her, for it was like a warm glove, soothing and sensual as it passed on her legs and thighs. Finally, he found little scratches and put antiseptic on them.
"I have to remove your tank top and examine your breasts" ordered Frank.
"Is that necessary?" asked Mira.
"It is," said Frank.
"Ok, you're the doctor" she said and let him removed her top.
Then gently he hitched up the sports bra and her nice tits jumped up to his view. They weren't exactly large after all. Only moderate. But they were absolutely gorgeous. His hands ran on the swell of the sides, his fingers walking like spider legs around ignoring the erect nipples. Despite the seemingly ridiculous examination, Mira was getting turned on. She wanted to rub her hardening nipples but she restrained herself.
"No lumps, no bruise, your tits are perfect," said Frank.
"Did you say I have a pelvic injury?"
"Yes, and I have to examine that too."
"You mean I'm going to have to take off my shorts?"
"Yeah, you had an accident. But let me do it. Don't move till I tell you."
"Ok," she said for that was all she could say. However, she felt there's wetness creeping inside the juncture of her thighs.
Frank eased down the shorts all the way to her feet revealing a white high cut bikini. The high mound at the juncture of her killer legs showed an impressive outline of her womanhood. The triangular dark patch was faintly visible beneath the white cotton fabric of her underwear.
Then Frank runs his hands along her hourglass figure.
