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Party on Horror Beach	By : SheliakBob Category: S through Z > Universal Horror Movies Views: 1676 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: i do not own "Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein" nor any of the characters from it. I do not own any of the Beach Monsters referenced. I make no money from writing this story.

Chapter List
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Once the lobster claws were off his hands, Bobby could pull the She-Creature mask off himself. The hot South Florida afternoon felt deliciously cool after being stuck inside the dank foam-rubber mask for over an hour. Mike tugged at the zipper down the back of the monster suit until it finally gave and helped slide the padded shoulders off. Bobby was soaking wet under the suit, first from sweating heavily, then from all the seawater the suit sucked up during his “emergence from the deep” scene. The suit, already heavy to start with, practically tripled in weight when it was wet. Finally freed from the wet-sponge burden, Bobby emerged like an insect molting out of its shell.
“Whew! Feels good to be able to move again.” Bobby exclaimed. “Where’s Bobbi?”
“Went down the beach a ways to get some sun and take a little nap, she said.” Replied Mike as he laid the She-Creature suit out on a plastic tarp.
“Oh. Well, maybe I’ll go check on her, see if she wants a beer or something.”
“Unh hunh. Or something.”
The affair between the stuntman and the production’s leading lady was an open secret among the cast and crew.
Bobby grinned and winked.
Whistling merrily, he set off at a brisk jog.
About a quarter mile down the beach was an outcropping of rock and jumbled boulders. The rocks provided adequate privacy and the little cove on the other side had become Bob and Bobbi’s favorite trysting spot, also an open secret among the production staff, who studiously avoided going anywhere near it.
As Bobby scrabbled over the rough stones, he felt the cold creeping sensation that someone, or something, was watching him. He paused, the hair prickling on the nape of his neck, and looked around. There was no one in sight, just sand and rocks and a couple of curious seagulls hovering on the ocean breeze overhead. He shrugged the feeling aside and continued on his way, but an icy trickle down his spine persisted.
All of which was burned away by hot, racing blood when he caught sight of Bobbi, wearing a skimpy bikini, stretched out on a white towel. Her skin was covered with a glaze of suntan lotion and glistened wetly. Her eyes were closed. She stretched and squirmed in the sunshine, her slow-motion writhing reminded Bobby vaguely of hot dogs rotating on a vendor’s cart at the boardwalk.
He was suddenly aware of the smell of sweat and foam-rubber sticking to his skin. With a twist of his head he veered toward the ocean and dove into an oncoming wave. After some quick splashing about, he waded back out, feeling salty and slick, dripping with brine, sea-foam crackling in his hair.
Bobbi was sitting up, one hand shading her eyes, watching him.
He grinned and put on his best swagger.
She bit her lip and crossed one leg over the other.
“Hey, Gorgeous!”
“Hey.”
He shook some water out of his hair, then dropped down beside her, half on the towel, half on the sand.
He reached over and spread his hand across her bare belly. Her skin was hot and oily from the lotion under his fingers. He could feel a faint flutter of heartbeat beneath his palm.
“I was going to take a little nap.”
“Now you’re going to do something else.”
She chuckled.
He leaned in, pressing his lips to hers.
She playfully nipped at his lips. Her teeth were sharp.
He pressed down firmly with his hand on her belly and began to rub in small circles. Then he plunged his tongue past her teasingly coy lips, which were pressed tightly together.
She moaned and opened her mouth to him.
One arm languidly rose and draped itself across the back of his neck, her hand gripped the solid cords of muscle in his neck. She squeezed her fingers and palm, bunching up the skin just below his hair. The other hand raked fingernails down the length of his backbone into the small of his back. Surprisingly cool fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his swim trunks.
The hand on her belly paused, as if trying to decide just which way to go. Fingertips swirled just above the top of her bikini bottom, a little rake of fingernails, a teasing scratch, then slid up her torso toward her breasts. Fingers, collided with the taut fabric of her bikini. They pressed down into soft flesh and slid under the obstruction, shoving it up and aside. His fingertips found the rubbery stub of her nipple and pinched until he could feel her heartbeat pulsing though the skin. There was a sharp pulse in the nipple itself, then an echoing ripple that fluttered through the soft mound around it.
She shoved him up and away from her, smiling indulgently. Then she arched up, reached behind her back, and unfastened the bikini top. She dragged it off and tossed it lightly aside.
When she sunk back down on the towel, his head lowered onto her, first kissing her jawline, then the soft flesh along the side of her neck. His teeth nipped lightly, but carefully so as not to leave a marks which would get both of them yelled at by their director. He touched the tip of his tongue to her skin and lightly traced down over her collarbone, wincing slightly at the palm oil taste of the lotion.
When his mouth found her breast his fingers slipped off her nipple to cup and squeeze instead. His lips pinched it, then his tongue began to lick circles around it.
She moaned, mostly for his benefit, to be truthful.
Someone nearby chuckled.
Bobbi’s eyes snapped open and she whipped her head from side to side, but there was no one in sight anywhere on the beach. She half-closed her eyes, still wary.
Bobby left off teasing her nipple. His mouth clamped tightly over her breast and he began to suck, hard. It hurt, but in that achingly pleasurable sort of way. Bobbie closed her eyes and moaned again, for real this time.
With one hand Bobby pulled her bikini bottom out, then tucked it into the crease along the side of her left leg. He fumbled himself free from his bathing trunks.
Just as he was about to slide into her, the feeling of being watched, the sense of dread, became too much for her. She shoved him back off her.
“There’s someone watching us.”
Bobby smiled crookedly.
“Let them watch, the sneaky perverts. We’ll give them a show!”
She shook her head.
“It’s not someone we know. It’s… dangerous. I can feel it.”
Her bikini top, twisted tight into a makeshift garrote, dropped to the sand nearby.
Bobby frowned. He didn’t want to stop. He was rock hard and his heartbeat thudded so heavily inside that it hurt. But he had to admit that he could feel it too. There was someone watching them. The tingling in his tailbone felt like an alarm going off.
He stood up and tucked himself back away. It took some effort.
She rolled over to grab her bikini top, couldn’t find it, then looked around and saw it twisted up just a couple feet from the top of her head. With trembling fingers she flipped her bottom back into place and snatched up the top. The latch was broken and it wouldn’t fasten. She gathered up the beach towel and wrapped it around her chest, tucking it tight.
“Look.” Said Bobby, grimly. “Someone was here.”
There were bare footprints in the sand just a few feet from them. The breeze off the ocean suddenly felt chillingly cold.
“Let’s get out of here!” She said.
Bobby nodded in agreement, disturbed that there were no additional footprints leading away from the pair that were practically right next to them. They set off at a quick walk, back toward the production camp, both of them casting fearful glances at the empty beach all around them.
“So amusing.” Whispered a voice after they’d left.

Crazy Larry lay on his belly, chin cradled in his hands, watching the young people pretend to party around a roaring bonfire. The girls were in bikinis and were shimmying energetically to a Surf Rock song that seemed to be all electric guitar and bongos. There were two blondes with long straight hair who were alternating between a fairly pedestrian Twist and an undulating Belly Dance move. They’d been at it for over an hour and their bellies were slick with sweat. They wore expressions of slightly entranced boredom with flickers of concentration through the tummy ripples. Another blonde with short-cropped hair was doing a painful-looking dance move that involved sudden convulsive jerks of her torso that thrust her breasts at the camera in wobbly stabs.
Larry had learned that she was an actress, not just one of the dancers that the director hired from a Go-Go club in La Mirada, and she played a couple of different victims in middle distance shots as well as one of the leads.
A redhead wearing a red fringed bikini danced opposite of the others. Her bottom was shoved up almost in the camera while she shimmied and rotated through well-practiced, professional moves.
The redhead was Larry’s favorite. He grinned while he watched her dance and took another pull from this fresh bottle of rum.
“Hey, Red!” Shouted Thompson, the cameraman over the music. “Your boyfriend’s back.”
He nodded toward where not-quite-hidden Larry peeked over the top of a sand dune.
The redhead tossed a glance over one shoulder and smiled.
She did a sudden duck and twist and came up facing in Larry’s direction. Mouth open, eyes half-closed, she ran her hands up over her hips and belly, shoved up under than across her breasts, and finally flung her arms toward Larry, hands reaching out. She blew him a kiss, winked, then did another duck and twist that ended with her butt shoved back up in the camera’s lens.
Larry, not particularly bothered at being spotted, grinned and let loose a wolf-whistle that echoed over the beach. Red nodded her head in acknowledgement and shimmied twice as hard.
“Oh, he’s not so bad.” She said, panting slightly with exertion. “I’ve danced for worse. At least he keeps his distance and his hands to himself. He’d probably be a good tipper, too, if we were at the Club.”
She smiled at her admirer, then spun out from in front of the camera, her close-up scene finished. Mike handed her a towel and she wiped her face and neck, but left the sheen of sweat built up over her belly and cleavage. With barely a pause to catch her breath, she stepped back out and took up a position among the other dancers.
“Right, “ Shouted Roger. “Cue the monsters on three… two… one… Go!”
Two stuntmen lumbered into the shot, each wearing an elaborately ridiculous rubber monster suit. One was a scale-covered wet-suit with a huge fish-like head. Gills flopped like limp ears at the sides and weird rubber protrusions poked through a mouth full of sculpted rubber teeth.
“Grr! I’m a Hot-Dog Monster!” snarled Bobby Burton in his Party Beach Horror costume.
From the other side, Charlie waddled up to the girls wearing a conical-headed, google-eyed suit draped with yards of crepe-paper “seaweed.”
“Arr! I’m Crazy Kelp-Head and I eat girlie-girls!” He shouted, waving his arms in a comically “threatening” gesture.
The girls screamed on cue and tried to cover their grins with hands as they cringed.
Party Beach Horror Bobby lunged forward and clawed at Bobbi. Carefully placed chocolate syrup on the insides of the rubber claws left dark streaks across the girl’s belly and breasts. One hand reached up to grab her by the throat. She gurgled convincingly and drooled fake blood from the capsule she’d just bit down on. The stricken “victim” shuddered through death throes as the Party Beach Horror dragged her carcass away for unspeakable purposes.
The Kelp-Headed Monster shambled blindly among the beach-girls as they scattered. Red bit her knuckles and fainted dead away at he feet as the monster leaned menacingly over her.
“Gonna eat you up, Girlie-girl!” Charlie growled.
“Promises, promises.” Snickered the dancer as she was lifted up and thrown limply over one foam-rubber shoulder.
“Oof!” the supposedly unconscious girl cried.
“What big teeth you have!” She whispered as Charlie tried to stagger off with her.
“CUT!” yelled Roger, as his entire cast broke into laughter and tumbled about the sand.
Crazy Larry’s pulse was pounding like a jackhammer. He scrubbed his face with both hands before ducking and rolling back down the far side of the dune. He stared miserably at the clear blue sky overhead. He could feel the Beast clawing at the inside of his chest. He hyperventilated for a moment before grabbing his bottle of rum, taking a deep, desperate draught from it, then he lurched to his feet and staggered away from the beach.
The Full Moon was coming. They had to leave soon. They had to!
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Party on Horror Beach