The black jeep wrangler bounced as it cruised over the causeway. There was a loud HONK and the two women in the jeep jumped. Some college boys in a convertible Mustang moved over into the wrong traffic lane and pulled up beside the jeep. The guy in front made kissing faces at the driver of the jeep. A guy in the back seat, held his thumbs out pointing at himself. Dixie smiled and blew them a kiss before an oncoming car forced the boys to speed up and pass them. The guys pulled over in a parking lot just ahead.
"They're hoping we follow them," said the driver, Dixie Meriwether, her long blonde hair trailing behind her in the wind. They'd taken the top down the moment they rented the jeep to enjoy the Florida sun.
"I know," replied her passenger, best friend, and former college roommate, Rose Clark. "Slow down when we get close." Dixie slowed the jeep on the overseas highway without pulling off the road. "Sorry boys, just got engaged," shouted Rose. She held her hand up to show the sparkling diamond ring.
"And I'm married," added Dixie, holding her own hand up with two sparkling rings on it. Dixie honked the horn and sped up, leaving the disappointed boys behind.
"You ready to tell me where we are going yet?" Rose reached up and pulled her straw cowboy hat down farther over her head to keep it from blowing off. She was fairer skinned then Dixie and burned easily, but she still liked the sun. Her reddish brown hair was tied up in a ponytail behind her head. She wore dark shades to keep the sun out of her green eyes.
Dixie looked over at her friend. Her blue eyes were hidden by sunglasses. "Islamorada. We'll be there soon. It's a party spot, pools, beach, dancing. Nearby is a place you can swim with dolphins. We'll hang out there over the weekend and explore the keys the rest of the week. Key West is a blast. Billy Ray took me there on our honeymoon. I can't wait to get there."
"We getting a motel first?"
"Naw," added Dixie. "We'll stop and party some first. We should be there by noon. We can find a place to stay afterwards."
"If you say so," replied Rose. She was more of a planner and less carefree then her friend. Rose needed to have everything mapped out before she went anywhere.
"Here's a sign. Islamorada, just a few more miles." Dixie drove the remaining miles. She waved as some guys driving the other way honked at them.
Dixie pulled the jeep over at a parking lot right on the overseas highway. They could hear steel drum music playing from the resort area. The island had several motels along the resort, but all had no-vacancy signs. Dixie saw her friend glancing at them nervously. "Don't worry, we'll drive back up to Homestead for a room if we need to. No biggy."
Rose nodded. She was tired of being on the road and needed to get out and stretch. Both women lived on opposite sides of Georgia. She was 27 and Dixie was one year younger. They'd taken trips together yearly for the last five years, a tradition they started one spring break in college. This one was ostensibly to celebrate her engagement, but in reality they never needed a reason to go away together. Her fiancé, Jake was away on business and didn't mind her going away with Dixie. Dixie's husband was fifteen years older then his wife and stayed busy running a business. "This place looks intriguing."
"I've partied here once or twice," said Dixie, putting the top up on the jeep. "I think a lot of the young fun crowd in Miami come down here on the weekends so it should be hopping. There," she said after securing the top on. "Time to break some hearts." Dixie was wearing a pink tank top and cutoff jeans. She reached to the hem of her top and pulled it off over her head. Her impressive bosom was tightly restrained by the DD cups of a bikini bearing the insignia of the Confederate battle flag.
"What about our stuff?" Rose was wearing a flower print sundress. She pulled it off her shoulder and let it fall to her feet. She was wearing a USA flag print bikini. She was shorter then the tall blonde beside her and wore high heeled sandals to appear taller. Her breasts were as big as Dixie's, but looked larger on her shorter frame. Rose's belly button was pierced and sparkled in the sunlight.
"We lock it in the car." Dixie stepped out of her jean shorts. She wore flip-flops because she was close to six feet tall and didn't need heels. Her body was tanned, toned, and very lithe, her large bosom making her appear top heavy. Her navel was also pierced, but with a CSA flag pin that matched her bikini, not a diamond stud like Rose's pin. She was proud of her Georgia heritage. In addition to the bikini and pin, she had a CSA flag tramp stamp just above the firm globes of her rear end.
"I can't believe you talked me into wearing this bikini again," said Rose. Her bikini was a good five years old, but the colors were still bright. She preferred more conservative bikinis now and only wore her flag bikini on trips with Dixie.
"Why not?" asked Dix. "We look as good as now as we did at nineteen. I think our boobs and asses might even fill them out a little better. One night after leaving a frat house party, a drunk Dixie and Rose had wondered past a tattoo parlor. Dixie had always wanted to get a Confederate flag tattoo on her lower back, but had lacked the courage. Rose held her hands while Dixie got her tattoo. Three days later, they were shopping for a new bikini to show off Dixie's tattoo and stumbled upon Confederate one on a mannequin. Dixie thought it was perfect and managed to talk her shy friend Rose into buying a matching American flag bikini. The next day the Flag Girls were born and became something on a legend on campus. Both women were stunning and stacked. They turned heads wherever they went and one time even caused a fender bender.
Rose tucked her purse under the seat after removing a roll of cash, she tucked the cash under her panties, near her pubic hair. Dixie did the same. "Oops, those boys are watching us," said Rose.
"All the boys will be watching us," said Dixie, winking. She hid the keys under the bumper before turning back to her friend. Then she noticed the "boys" Rose was referring too. Two over muscled black men sat astride motorcycles nearby in the parking lot. They looked like "gangstas" fresh out of prison. One didn't have a shirt on. His bulging chest and biceps were covered in blue black tribal tattoos. He had a military style flat top. The other was fatter with a gut, but still had huge muscular arms. He wore an open leather vest with nothing on underneath. The tattooed one looked to be in his mid twenties and the fatter one about twenty years older, but both women found age hard to tell with black people. "What are you looking at?" called Dixie as they walked across the parking lot.
"Ssssh," whispered Rose.
"I see a hot bodied white bitch in a racist bikini," said the older man with the big belly.
Dixie growled in frustration. She hated having people tell her that her flag was racist. "This bikini is not racist." She pointed her finger at the man. Rose was inching behind her unconsciously trying to make herself smaller. The black men were parked right at the crosswalk and the two women had to pass them closely.
"It's Confederate, right?" said the heavy black man.
"Represents the enslavement of our ancestors," said the hard bodied thug.
"First off, it's the Confederate battle flag, not the state flag. It represents the brave soldiers who fought and died for state's rights. Aaargh! I'm sick of explaining that to you people."
"What do you mean YOU people?" grunted the fat one.
"Bullshit," said the muscular one. "How about you? Quit hiding that hot body behind the blonde. You a racist too with that flag?"
Rose stepped out in shock. "It's the American flag! It's patriotic!"
"It's as big a symbol of racism and oppression as the other one."
"B-but it's not," stuttered Rose.
"Come on Rose," said Dixie pulling her. "Those two black boys are too dumb to listen to reason."
The walk sign appeared flashing and the two women hurried across the highway towards the resort.
The two black men glared at the retreating women and then they turned to each other and grinned.
*****************
Dixie and Rose made quite an entrance. Every eye in the place turned on them for a moment. There were plenty of hot women in bikinis around, but none that matched the two Georgia peaches. "Let's look around first," said Rose. "Scope out the place."
"Lets get a drink first," said Dixie. Nearby was a crowded tiki bar. Two bartenders were working it. One was a giant black man, very dark skinned with long dreadlocks. The other was an attractive woman with a tee shirt tied up to show off her flat stomach. Her shirt had a large black spade on the front. Her belly button was also pierced with a spade pin. She was as fair skinned as Rose, but with redder hair and more freckles. "Two light beers," yelled Dixie to the black bartender.
"Ja mon," he said. "Coming right up." The bartender nodded and handed over two cans. "Six bucks," he said in a Jamaican accent that went with his look. Like all men, his words were directed at her breasts and not her face. He was not an attractive man. His skin was very dark, he was thin, had a gold tooth, and his Rastafarian hair style looked dirty.
Dixie slipped her fingers inside her panties, noticing the black man's stare followed her fingers down. She pulled out her wad of cash and handed him a ten. "Just give me two dollars back."
"Ja mon," he replied, giving her the change.
Dixie laughed when she read his nametag. It said Jamon.
The two women sipped their beers and wandered the resort. They passed a small stage with a Reggae band filled with dark skinned islanders. They were called Rasta With Meatballs. Dixie held up her drink over her head and started dancing with the crowd. Rose joined her. They danced for a bit. When they left, Rose caught some young men sneaking a picture of them with a cell phone.
"I pledge allegiance," said a voice. Rose turned to see a handsome twenty something with his hand over his heart staring at her bosom. "To the flag, that can barely restrain those big ass titties." He turned and high fived his laughing friends.
Other men hit on them. Some were nice. Some were stupid. One nice guy bought them drinks and all he wanted was for his buddy to take his picture with "The Flag girls". Every time he saw them that day, he would stop and salute.
An hour after arriving, Rose and Dixie were having a blast. They visited Jamon for drinks, danced, took dips in the pool, and waded out into the shallow water on the beach. Guests started calling them the flag girls and wherever they roamed, they heard, "Here come the flag girls." or "Looking good flag girls."
Dixie told everyone they met that they were celebrating Rose's engagement which led to a lot of shots and free drinks. Two young men asked if they wanted to go for a jet ski ride. They accepted and rode behind the guys out to a sandbar. Boaters had anchored off the sandbar and were having a barbecue/keg party. They joined the party with their two guy friends. They had a great buzz going as the sun was going down and the guys pulled the jet ski's back up on the beach. "You two staying here?" asked one guy.
Dixie smiled. "We don't know yet, but we'll be back tomorrow." She and Rose waved as the left. The boys looked disappointed. Some guys no matter how much you tell them that you're married or engaged, still think they have a chance with you. Neither Dixie or Rose had ever cheated on their men. "This was a blast."
"Yeah," agreed Rose. "Maybe our best trip ever."
"And it's only day one girlfriend."
"Everyone's been so nice."
"Everyone's always nice to us," said Dixie. "We're hot."
"Yes," said Rose, shaking her head sadly. "A curse we have to live with."
