"Hey up campers, why are you all up here. Thought the party was downstairs" John Lennon strolled over to the other men scattered around on the rooftop which had a clear view of the beautiful Santa Monica beach.

"Oh, just enjoying the scenery, Lennon" Keith Moon spoke up first but never let his eyes waver from the beach front. He turned his head slightly, cupping his hand to light a fag out of the breeze that would extinguish his last match. 

Glancing at John he pointed the now lit cigarette towards the beach, the attraction that was attracting the men's attention.

The afternoon sun was dipping but with that fading light came streams of colour dancing on the ocean making it shimmer and sparkle.

"It's a sunset lads, yer all gone soft" John laughed and went to turn but a movement caught his eye and he finally realised what the spectators where watching.

A huge grey Arabian horse was prancing, almost dancing, in the waves. Throwing its head up as a breakers hit its nose, then speeding off, sand scattering skyward in sprays of glitter. The horses' long tail was lifted in elegant repose, flying out behind like a flag.

Back to the water again the horse dashed, entering and snorting, the rider rode bareback turning the steed stealthily down the coastline setting a fast pace, then both momentarily disappearing behind palm trees then reemerging, dashing again into sight, rounding and flying to position themselves back in front of the men's current outpost.

The creature atop the steed was wet too. Her hair, although matted and wet, flew behind her as she rode, tanned legs, thighs hugging the animals curved body, tight. A singlet, clung to her sea soaked skin; Shorts, short and clinging, the only clothing between her and the horse. Back to the water, they trotted through waves which were crashing on both her and the animal she was astride. As soon as the horse reared up with pent up adrenaline she called time and, as the winded equine recovered from its afternoons delight, the girl/ woman? laid back; straight along the horses back, seemingly asleep for minutes. Then slowly she sat up adjusting her position, seated upright for a moment only to then lay down over the animals neck hugging the grey as it started to prance and turn again. The sun caught the rider and mount in its rays and made the scene dream-like, a photograph just wouldn't have done the scene justice.

"Well that's a weeks worth of wet dreams for me" Micky Dolenz straightened up smiling his cat like grin and shifted his tackle making a few laugh in agreement. 'Something about a lass on a horse, especially bareback."

"Ok, you lot you know this is my part of the house not the club, stop perving on topless beach-goers so openly, they will all move on and I'll miss out!!" Alice Cooper wander up behind John and Keith Moon, slapping Moony on the back.

"Did she just pick her nose, ewwww" Harry Nilsson, so eloquent with words, spoke up.

"Yes, yes she did" Micky was disappointed, his dream turning into something a tad less 'romantic'. Maybe, he thought, he could still save it- forget this last bit.

"That's Bethany you wankers, she can see you all up here no doubt and is doing it to piss ya off!" Alice waved at the girl and she raised a hand in reply.

"Who's Bethany and why have you never introduced me to my next wife" Keith spoke up and Harry pointed at him as if to silently say 'really...... you!?! – no hope of that!'

"Next wife- you're dreaming mate, she would never touch you. Me on the other hand..." Harry laughed and Alice hit both of them on the back of the head and shook his own head at the absurdity of their words.

Making them go "Ouch! What was that for" in unison.

"Bethany" Alice glanced around, nothing, no dawning of recognition on the men's faces "Beth, BJ"

"Ohhhhh, why didn't you just call her BJ, ya knob. Bloody confusing it is, ain't it. Bethany is a pretty sheila and BJ is a, well, a....." Micky's voice faded away as Alice glared at him.

"You do recall she is my sister, right Dolenz?!"

"You're sure that was BJ? You're not mistaken?? Because that...." Harry pointed at the retreating rider "That was heaven. BJ well she's a bit of a dag- oversized, horrid shirts, baggy jeans ALL THE TIME, terrible hair, maybe a hint of a moustache" A trickle of laughter went through the men and Alice killed it with one look.

John was now seated on the lounger gazing at the sky as the colours changed quickly; pinks through to orange and purple blazing hues cutting glorious lines of light across the horizon. "Now, now lads. Give the girl a break. Say she was to wear skimpy shortys and wet T in the bar, how would it be then?"

"Wet dreams" Micky broke out in another wide dreamy grin earning him one of Alice's slaps to the head. "Ouch, ya prick!"