Nudge This!

Saturday night, Brooke and I went to a club to have a few drinks. Things have been a bit rough with Meghan lately and I think he wanted to talk. As I’ve discovered, she’s slowly becoming a very successful photographer and she’s getting more and more international contracts. This has meant a lot of work abroad in the last few months and it’s caused a strain in their relationship. Brooke says she keeps mentioning Manuel, a Spanish fashion magazine owner who keeps calling and texting her (even in the middle of the night). Brooke’s not a jealous guy, but he knows when someone is making a play for his girl.

So in order to help Brooke lighten up, I decided to challenge him to a pickup contest. I figured with my Nudge, I’d be able to keep up with him, maybe even win. I haven’t really practiced it, despite what you might think. With Morgan taking care of my sexual needs (and then some!), I haven’t been feeling any particular urge to fool around with female strangers.

The rules were pretty straightforward. We started the contest at 10:15PM. Each of us had 45 minutes to get as many phone numbers as we could. Loser would pay drinks for the rest of the evening. From previous experience, I knew I could get around one number every six minutes and change (yes, I did the math!). That meant I could do around seven numbers before the time was up. Maybe a little more if I pushed it (but I knew this would mean a headache). The things I do for friends.

So we went to work. We’ve done this before, and of course Brooke would always crush me. This time, though, I’d make him proud and return the favor. Things were off to a good start. I approached two girls, did some small talk, and learned they were BFFs with benefits. It’s amazing what you can get out of some girls with just a few good openings and a playful attitude (the openings alone don’t work). I barely had to do any nudging for BOTH of them to give me their numbers and invite me for some fun together later. Things kept rolling and after thirty minutes, I was up to eight numbers already–a pace below four minutes a girl. At this rate, I might be able to push a dozen before 11PM.

And then that girl happened. Tall girl, sexy smile, long red hair, good figure, wearing casual jeans, a t-shirt and a vest. She had–get this!–some beads and feathers in her hair, and was drinking beer straight from the bottle. There was a hippie vibe about her that reminded me a bit of Zuri’s free spirit. There was something very approachable about her and I thought this was going to be easy. She noticed me checking her out and raised her bottle in a silent toast to my health or something. So I approached her and got to work. I went for the Oh-I-thought-you-were-someone-else approach.

“Hey,” I started, “I was wondering where you–oh, you’re not Susan!”

“Nope,” she said, smiling and half-turning from me. She gulped down some beer and winked at me. “There’s no Susan, is there?”

Uh oh, I thought. She’s on to me, so I might as well drop the game and play it straight.

“Ah, no,” I said with a grin. “Well, there’s probably a Susan somewhere, but she looks nothing like you.”

She just smiled. “I should warn you, we’re not leaving together tonight.”

Well, that was direct. Then she turned to face me, wrapped her arms around my neck, drew me in and kissed me on the lips.

Wow.

That threw me off my game a little. A lot, actually. I got a little flustered and broke the kiss.

“Ah, for someone who’s not leaving with me tonight, I think you’re sending mixed signals.”

“Doesn’t mean we won’t ever leave together, just not tonight.” She stepped back, held up her beer bottle and shook it a little. Empty.

“Want another?” I asked. She nodded, so I motioned for a wandering waitress to bring us to more of what she was having.

We chatted for a while and, I’m embarrassed to say, I lost track of time. It was the weirdest thing, though. I could tell she really liked me, but no matter how much I nudged her, I couldn’t get her to give me her phone number. I tried the indirect approach, reverse psychology, and, out of moves, fell back on just plain asking for it. Nothing worked. I’d never encountered anyone who was so in control in this kind of situation (well, Brooke being the exception). Finally, with that thought, it finally dawned on me. The feathers in the hair were a dead give away, I just hadn’t picked up on it: this was a pick-up artist, female version. Just like Brooke.

And with that, it was 11PM and Brooke suddenly appeared near us, grinning victoriously.

“I got TEN!” he said, not even acknowledging the girl I was talking to. I just realized I didn’t even know her name!

“Ah,” I began, realizing I was still short. “I’m not… I don’t…” Feeling like a fool, I didn’t want her to know we were playing some game and she was part of it.

Brooke glanced at the girl and winked. “Thanks for the assist,” he said. She slipped by his side and put her arm around his waist. “No problem,” she said, grinning at me.

“Wait, you two KNOW each other?” I’d been played! Of COURSE they knew each other. She was a pick-up artist, just like Brooke. Probably one of his many wingmen (or wingwomen?)… It finally dawned on me that Brooke must have called her in to stall me. He knows about my Nudge so he needed someone to neutralize me while he got more phone numbers! What a bastard! (But a clever one, I have to admit.)

“Sure we do,” Brooke said. “This is my cousin Mallory. Taught me everything I know about women.”

So I think this warrants a DUN DUN DUUUUUN

Life Update

So here’s how things have been lately.

First, Brooke and Meghan. With Brooke’s “situation,” you might have been wondering how their couple survived that setback. It probably won’t surprise you that the whole thing freaked Meghan out in the beginning. She already knew male-Brooke from way back, when she and I used to date, so the appearance change was less than a shock. The real problem was the… y’know, lack of male tools and all. As it turns out, though, Brooke’s a master at this particular type of craft and I get hints (from Meghan, actually) that some earth-shattering orgasms have changed her mind.

Jennifer is gone. Not from my life, I mean, but gone from the country. She took an IT contract in France (somewhere in Provence) until the end of August. I follow her adventures on facebook and she seems to be enjoying herself quite a bit. Her French was already very good (I think), so I’m assuming it’ll be great when she gets back.

Morgan’s been coming over to my place from time to time. Attitude is the one who’s insisted I have her come over here because she wants to “study” her a bit more. For me, well… you know the drill. Lots of sex and all that. Attitude hasn’t shared her conclusions with me, but Minx says that the curses on Morgan are pretty complicated. She also says that Attitude gets very upset when Minx asks her questions about it. I think Attitude doesn’t actually understand the magic that’s on Morgan and that makes her irritable.

There’s been an interesting development in my faerie sight, by the way. I’m calling it the Nudge. As you probably know, I can tell a woman’s level of arousal pretty easily thanks to the Sight. That’s been a fantastic help in finding out if I have a shot or not with a girl. But there’s this gray, middle area where a girl is neither interested nor repelled by me. Normally, things either go one way or the other depending on what I say or do. But lately, with some coaching from Minx, I’ve discovered I can nudge a girl favorably toward me. I guess it’s more of a tug than a nudge, but why quibble over semantics.

So with this in hand, yesterday I went to a dance club where Brooke and I used to go and decided to try my luck with some of the girls there. I’m glad to report it was a success. I left with a dozen phone numbers, some from girls who even insisted I take it without my asking. I’m kind of tempted to challenge Brooke and see which one of us can get the most numbers in an evening. Am I becoming a ladies’ man? I guess so.

There’s just one down side to the whole thing: doing Nudges repeatedly gave me a pretty nasty headache by the end of the evening. But hey, I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, right?

–Jaycee

[$] Brooke — Missing Bodies

MEMBERS-ONLY ENTRY

Brooke is not having a good time. After his transformation back to a guy last week, he had no choice but to tell Meghan what happened to him. She was a little freaked out, but they’re working it out.

Attitude is pretty happy with herself over this one. I’ve tried to talk some sense into her, but she won’t budge. Since I’m friends with Minx, she doesn’t really try to curse me anymore, but she can still affect my friends, so I have to tread carefully. Plus, Minx explained to me that being a faerie friend doesn’t confer IMMUNITY to faerie magic, just better resistance to it. I’m not sure I want to find out what that means.

But back to Brooke. The thing that REALLY puzzles me, right now, is this: after the Mexican holiday, s/he and Mandy had swapped bodies. So the Brooke I was seeing was actually Mandy’s body. Mandy herself was inside Brooke’s female body. Now that Brooke is (mostly) back in his male body, what does that mean for Mandy herself? I’ve tried to ask Attitude, but she just shrugged and flew away.

Guess there’s no real way to find out, with Mandy out of the picture.

–Jaycee

Brooke’s Good Attitude

For those looking for news of Morgan, I’m afraid she’s gone silent. No responses to my emails and she wasn’t there on Wednesday when I visited Cherry Pick (again!).

Thursday, Brooke dropped by. I’d warned her that Attitude was back, but the two hadn’t run into each other yet. Considering how much chaos Attitude had wrought in Brooke’s life, I was concerned it might not go all that well–and make things worse for Brooke. But Brooke, despite all her womanizing flaws, isn’t stupid, and her approach was surprising.

“You!” she exclaimed, feigning some shock at seeing Attitude.

The faerie eyed her warily. Her wings twitched a little, a sign I’d come to recognize as pre-curse hostility. Then Brooke continued.

“I’ve been meaning to thank you for what you’ve done,” she said.

Attitude wasn’t impressed.

“I’m sure you did,” the faerie said, her tone dripping with acid.

“I mean it. First there was my other body, then this one–and this one is GREAT! But you know what, going through these changes has taught me a lot…”

Attitude raised an eyebrow, her posture relaxing.

“Taught you what?”

“Well, how female anatomy works… How it… y’know, *responds* to stuff. And the best part is now, I can REALLY turn a girl on, even without a dick!”

“So I’ve…” Attitude started.

“…made me a better lover, yes!” Brooke finished. “So I’m not kidding, I owe you a LOT. So thanks.”

I watched Attitude carefully, wondering if she was buying it. Brooke certainly sounded sincere, enough so that I was tempted to believe her.

That’s when Attitude shrugged, waved a hand in Brooke’s direction, and flew away. A bright glow surrounded Brooke. It faded, leaving Brooke a little dazed, rubbing his temples.

Brooke didn’t look like Mandy anymore. Brooke looked like himself. The male self, I mean. I had my bro back!

“Brooke! You’re BACK!” I said, dragging him by the shoulders in front of a mirror.

“Holy shit! I’m ME!”

Then it hit him–Meghan!

“Oh shit, I’m me!”

Yeah, I thought, that might be a problem. From his female self to Mandy’s body, then back to his male self–there was enough chaos there to turn off even Meghan.

Then Brooke got a suspicious look and reached for his crotch. His expression told me all I needed to know. The return to his male body wasn’t complete.

From the cupboard above the fridge, I could hear Attitude howling with malicious laughter.

–Jaycee

Big Life Update

I’ll get back to Attitude’s recent mischief in a moment, but since I haven’t talked about my life here in a good while, I should probably recap the last few months for your benefit.

I’m still working as a freelance writer, usually from home. Sometimes, I go in coffee shops, just so I can see people. Minx occasionally joins me and plays pranks on unsuspecting customers (usually minor stuff, like embarrassing wardrobe malfunctions).

I’m not dating anyone. After gaining faerie sight, it became pretty easy to pick up girls. It was a great boost to my self-confidence. I realized, however, that I was headed down a very slippery slope, morally speaking. Minx didn’t really understand why my problem was, but she helped me tune out the ability so that I don’t really notice sexual arousal unless I deliberately want to see it.

I dated Fredrika for a while, but it didn’t work out. I’ve come to realize I like girls with strong, bold personalities, and Fredrika was a bit too much of a wallflower for my taste.

Brooke and Meghan are still together. They share an apartment near the Old Port. It’s pretty posh.

I have no clue where Mandy is gone. She’s still MIA.

But now, back to the recent events. More specifically, let’s talk about Blog, that entity that had “invaded” my electronic space. It looked like something living in the cloud, in the vicinity of my website. It’s been wiped clean now, but it’s been keeping busy for the last year and change. Keeping busy doing what, you ask? Keeping busy maintaining a relationship with Morgan, of all people!

So here’s what happened (again, put together from my conversations with Minx and Attitude): Blog kept electronic contact with Morgan, my former sexy MILF of a boss. It went as far as impersonating me (video and audio) through Skype conversations. I’ve found the logs of those conversations, too. For some reason, Blog seemed to enjoy recording them. It seems to have learned a lot about me over time and did a very credible model of my appearance. And for reasons that are still beyond me at this time, it preyed on Morgan’s weird attraction to me, and had her do all sorts of very sexual things for the camera. (Seriously, I know people who’d PAY to see what she did.)

But that stuff isn’t the important (or most interesting) part of what happened. Blog’s logs have allowed me to find Morgan’s electronic contact info. So last night, I contacted her. I didn’t let on that I wasn’t the copy of myself (and I realize how weird this sounds as I write it), just to avoid alarming her. I’m still not sure what happened to her, but I want to find out. She’s in town, but didn’t want to tell me where she lives. We’ve agreed to meet in person. This surprised her a little, apparently because “I’ve” repeatedly refused to do it in the last year, but she was thrilled that I’d changed my mind. (From the way she talked, she’s way deeper into this relationship than I am, and I have to be careful about what I say and do, if I don’t want to spook her.)

So we’re meeting tomorrow night at some bar, the Cherry Pick. I’ll tell you more about it after I’ve meet her. Maybe this will be an opportunity to catch that Hobo that’s been torturing her…

–Jaycee

Mischief in Cuba (Part II)

The next day was spent relaxing by the beach. I wore TONS of sunscreen (I’m pretty white). Brooke didn’t need quite as much. Even as a man, she was always keeping up a basic tan to look good. As a chick, she would go to the tanning salon at least twice a week. For the most part, we did nothing. I needed to rest from work, and she just enjoyed basking in the sun like a lizard.

So my main activity that day was to go back and forth between my recliner chair and the beach’s mini-bar. At one point in the afternoon, while waiting for some drinks (two mudslides), this blonde chick came over to order something. She had a pretty slim body, a lovely face, but not much of a rack. Actually, she was rather nice looking, until she started showing signs of impatience at the bartender’s pace. She turned to me, side-nodding in the bartender’s direction.

“Did you order those yesterday? Service is SO slow here…”

I shrugged.

“I’m not in a rush. But if you want,” I offered with a helpful smile, “you can have my drinks and I’ll order some more.”

“Wow! You’re a dear! My girlfriend and I are sitting over there. Bring us the drinks and you can join us, if you want.”

Huh. I hadn’t offered to bring her the drinks, just to let her take mine… But I guess she was one of those entitled people who just assume their looks can let them get away with anything. Not the kind of people I like to interact with. So I waited for the drinks, then sprinkled a bit of faerie dust on them. I took the drinks to the two girls and delivered it as promised.

“Here you go ma’am, ma’am,” I said, smiling at each. “Compliments of the house.”

I turned to depart when the blonde called out.

“Hey, you’re not staying?”

I pointed at Brooke with an over-the-shoulder thumb. “I’m with someone. Just thought I’d be a gentleman. Enjoy the drinks.” And with that, I took off.

(If you’re not familiar with what I did just there, it’s called a “false disqualifier.” It’s a trick I’d learned from Brooke. It’s a way to make yourself attractive by being technically unavailable. Also, I didn’t want to get caught in whatever was about to happen. I hadn’t put the faerie dust in the drinks for my own benefit, but just to embarrass them and take them down a notch or two…)

After I returned to my chair, I directed Brooke’s attention to the two girls. I explained what I’d done, which amused Brooke to no end. So we watched, wondering what was going to happen. After a few minutes, the girls stopped chatting and just lay there, soaking in the sun. I noticed the blonde was repressing gestures to scratch her chest. Her friend (a taller, bustier brunette) was repeatedly squeezing her thighs. And a short while later, the blonde turned to tell her friend something (we couldn’t hear from where we were). Both got up and headed into the water.

And when they were far enough, the real fun started. They lowered themselves into the water so that only their heads would show, and started kissing. I have no doubt what their hands and bodies were doing… And they were at it for a good while. Until the brunette let out some kind of shout, which sent her blonde friend into a giggle fit. Brooke and I knew exactly what had happened, and we suspected many other beach-goers had figured it out too.

For the rest of the day, though, Brooke and I were good and didn’t inflict any pranks on anyone. The next day, though, was another story. Brooke was in a randy mood and felt like having some sexy fun with these same girls.

And so she did. But we’ll get to that next time…

–Jaycee

Mischief in Cuba (Part I)

The plane to get to Cuba was delayed, so there was a bit of waiting before departure. Since it was very early in the morning, and both Brooke and I had packed our things late the night before, we slept through most of the wait. After we finally took off, it took a bit under 5 hours to get there. After picking up our luggage and getting into the bus, we arrived at the resort. It was noonish and, fortunately, our room was ready.

First problem: this was supposed to be a room with two beds. As it turns out, it was a single, queen-sized bed. I checked with front desk, and they apologized for the problem, but there were no other rooms left. We’d have to make do with that, or one of us could use the couch.

Brooke was quick to claim the bed (“Mine!”) and point to the couch (“Yours!”). I objected, but she said I had to be gallant and let her have the bed (“‘Cuz I’m a chick.”). I objected forcefully (“No you’re not! You just misplaced your dick!”), but she would have none of it.

“Fine,” I conceded. “You get the bed tonight, I get it tomorrow. We’ll take turns. That’s fair, right?”

She didn’t say anything, and I knew this was an argument I was going to lose night after night. Well, we’d cross that bridge when we’d get there, wouldn’t we? I was still pretty tired (from the rush at work), but I didn’t want to spend all my time inside the room sleeping. Instead, I’d go to the beach, lie down on a chair, and soak up the sun. (Yes, I did wear powerful sunscreen, and NO, not the one that Minx had given me.) Brooke joined me, wearing one of those flimsy slingshot bikinis–the kind that’s designed for tanning, not swimming. Honestly, I hadn’t really “seen” her goods in a while, and was suddenly reminded of how hot Mandy’s body was. And the people on the beach certainly noticed too (not just the guys, by the way).

We spent most of the afternoon on the beach, reading, sleeping, drinking little drinks with umbrellas in them, and (in my case) swimming in the ocean. At night, there was a welcoming dinner at the fancy restaurant of the resort. Brooke wore her “little black dress,” the one that’s designed to show off her legs, boobs, and heck, all of her, really. I had to admit it was a little distracting, and she caught me staring down her cleavage more than a few times. She was a good sport about it, though, and didn’t give me TOO much of a hard time.

(As a side note, if you’ve never been to Cuba, just know you don’t go there for the food. Or the wine. But service was great, and this was a free trip, so neither of us complained.)

We then went to see the evening show, which was something called “Crazy Cabaret.” There was some singing, some comedy, and some dancing. At one particular moment, one of the male dancers stumbled and nearly dropped his partner, a tall and elegant (but snob-looking) latina. She gave him such a dirty look (for just a fraction of a second, but long enough for me to notice) that I thought she was going to slap him. She regained her composure quickly and the show went on, but Brooke leaned closer to me and whispered in my ear.

“What a bitch! Leading isn’t easy, she should cut the guy some slack.”

“Yeah,” I murmured, still focused on the show.

“Maybe you should loosen her up a bit,” Brooke suggested. “She looks pretty photogenic to me…”

I quickly got it. Brooke was referring to my iPhone, and its special ability.

I sighed. “You’re impossible!” I grumbled.

“No, just highly improbable,” she said, grinning from ear to ear.

So I quickly pulled out my iPhone, pointed it at Brooke, and snapped a shot before she could react.

“Wait no! *Aaaah*”

There. That would teach her (and distract her) while I pointed it at the dancer. I zoomed in, snapped two rapid shots, and watched with amusement as she immediately slunk sexily against her partner (who was more than a little surprised by the sudden closeness). Gone was the biatch, in was the purring kitty.

“Jaycee,” Brooke said, “you bastard!”

Yeah, this was going to be one FUN vacation…

–Jaycee

Mischief in Cuba (Prelude)

As I mentioned earlier, a few weeks ago I won a trip to Cuba. The timing was great because work had been a bit taxing, and I needed a break. And because this was a trip for two, and most of my other friends were too busy with work, Brooke was the only person who could join me for that week of fun and sunshine.

Minx (like most faeries) doesn’t like traveling in human vehicles, so she couldn’t come. That was unfortunate, but we talked about doing some “fun stuff,” and worked out a way to do it even if she wasn’t there.

First off, she gave me some faerie dust. That can always come in handy. Also, she enchanted my iPhone camera so that every time I took a photo of someone, it would give that person a little erotic jolt. And since the effect was cumulative, I figured that could lead to amusing situations. But the best was the sunscreen, she said, though she didn’t tell me what it did. That was a surprise. She said it’d be best if Brooke didn’t use it, but wouldn’t tell me any more than that.

And so, equipped with Minx’s gifts, we were off to Cayo Coco.

–Jaycee

Salsa Night!

Brooke took me to a dance class last night. Salsa dancing.

Not that it’s come up, but Brooke (in his male days) was an advanced salsa dancer. We’re not talking basic step and cross body lead, here, but proper triple turns and complex choreographies. He even won a few local contests, just for fun. He was good enough that the hottest girls would ask him for a dance, not the other way around. (Me, I just watched by the sidelines, sipping my beer in envious silence.)

Of course, Brooke’s transformation into a girl somewhat changed all that. For starters, the steps aren’t the same. As a guy, you start with your left foot forward. As a girl, you start with your right foot back. And of course, with her rather impressive breasts, Brooke had to deal with a different balance from before. Plus, there was all the sexy flourish gestures ladies have to do while dancing, which guys don’t learn. But the worst, she told me, was getting used to BEING led when you’ve been the one leading for so many years. (If you’re not familiar with dancing, it’s the guy’s job to lead, and the woman has to follow — it’s about the only time we men are REALLY in charge. 🙂

All this to say that yesterday, Brooke (AGAIN in a new body) wanted to re-learn some of what she’d lost, and she figured it wouldn’t hurt for me to tag along. Secretly, I think she’d rather dance with me than with other creeps who’d try to get a little too close. With me, she was safe. Or at least safer. I have to admit, I miss Mandy, and while Brooke has altered her appearance a bit, holding Mandy so close to me didn’t leave me indifferent.

But I digress. The point is that Brooke wanted me to learn some dancing skills, just in case, some day, I have no faerie influence in my life and have to learn how to get laid for myself. So I did what I could, but I’ll admit I must have looked horribly clumsy.

The teacher (Cornell) then surprised us (Brooke & I, at least) by saying this was a combo class — half salsa, half bachata. If you’ve never seen bachata before, it’s VERY HOT! It involves a lot of hip swinging, close body contact, and crotch grinding against the other’s leg.

Really, it’s like sex with your clothes on.

But of course, there was no way we could weasel our way out of this. Brooke looked at me. “We can do this,” she said. “Just don’t you DARE get a boner!”

I laughed, maybe a little too hard. “Don’t YOU dare spring a leak!”

So we danced. Blushing furiously, we danced. And I gotta say, even if she used to be a guy, Brooke’s got all the right moves.

We sorta had a good time, but after we got out, we mostly talked about the salsa part. Not a word on the bachata.

–Jaycee

Next update: Tuesday

When Boobs Attack!

I was at the mall today (after work) when someone grabbed me from behind. I could tell it was female from the (generous) bosom I could feel pressing against my back. Whoever it was covered my eyes and whispered into my ear.

“Guess who it is?”

I hesitated. It’s never a good thing to get this wrong, so silence is often a better policy.

“It’s me!”

My mysterious assailant forcefully turned me around, grabbed my head and forced my face into her boobs before I could even look at her own face.

I recognized “her” instantly.

“Bwookf?” I mumbled into the boob flesh that I knew so well.

“Bingo!”

She pulled me out of her chest and beamed at me. There she was, my old friend Brooke, standing before me in Mandy’s body. It was painful, but not as much as I thought it would be. She wasn’t dressed like Mandy. Mandy was more the tight-t-shirt-and-jeans type. This version had gotten a haiircut, and was wearing a skirt and a loose blouse.

“You two look good,” I said at her boobs, not knowing what else to say.

She laughed.

“Eyes up here, bud.” She punched me in the shoulder. “You’re an asshole for not returning my calls.”

I had to agree.

“That means you owe me a beer.

I had to agree there too.

So we went for a beer, and I filled her in on the latest events in my life. Kinda felt good to have someone to talk to.

–Jaycee

Next update: Saturday

Post-Breakup

I kicked Mandy out after that last incident. I just couldn’t look at her.

After that, it was just Minx and I. And for reasons I didn’t quite understand at the time, Minx was relatively discreet for a few weeks. She’d be gone for many days at a  time and wouldn’t tell me where she’d been when she returned. I knew better than to press the issue.

I’ve spent most of January and February in a pretty somber mood. Minx has tried inflicting a few curses on me, but I’ve been so morose I think it took all the fun out of it for her.

Brooke came to visit a few times, but pretty soon I made it clear I didn’t want to see her, not so long as she looked like “my” Mandy. The old, nice Mandy.

So it’s been pretty quiet at my place, lately. I’m thinking of getting a pet. But not a dog or a cat, that’s too much maintenance. Maybe something exotic, I dunno.

*sigh*

I’m lonely.

–Jaycee

Next update: Tuesday

Tales From Mexico — Day 8 (Conclusion)

We’d only taken a short vacation, just 8 days. Day 8 was just a half day, since we had to check out by noon and be at the airport for 3PM. I’d like to say it was an uneventful half-day, but it wasn’t. And yes, it was because of “Mandy.”

I didn’t quite notice the pattern at the time, but it’s now clear as day. But I’m getting ahead of myself — more on this in a later post.

That last morning, I woke up to the muffled sounds of Brooke moaning in the middle of having sex.

Wait, what???

She wasn’t in the room. The sounds came from outside. I got up and groggily made my way to the door. I looked through the peep hole and sure enough, there was Brooke (actually, “Mandy”) getting screwed from behind, chest pushed against the door, her face red and flushed with heat. She was half-turned toward the Mexican guy who was having her way with her. He was encouraging her in Spanish. I didn’t know EXACTLY what he was saying, but sex talk is pretty universal. It must’ve been the equivalent of “take that,” or “you like that, don’t you?” or “how does THAT feel?” Clearly, it felt pretty good.

I immediately saw red and opened the door, meaning to interrupt them. That didn’t work as planned. She lost her balance and stopped herself against me. The guy behind her didn’t miss a beat and kept on plowing her, clearly not noticing me. “Mandy” saw me, and even though she blushed a little, she reached down for my boxers, pulled them down, and freed my morning erection from its prison. Without hesitation, she bent forward to take me in her mouth, still keeping her butt in the air to allow her lover to keep doing his work.

As always where “Mandy” is concerned (especially in Brooke’s body!), my brain shut down and I didn’t really understand the impact of what we were doing until after… “Mandy’s” squeals of delight were something to behold, as was her technique. The way she moved her tongue around my shaft and the way she gyrated her hips against the guy, it’s clear she was no newbie at this. I held myself against the door frame and tried to delay the incoming orgasm, but she would have none of it. So a minute or two after it began, it was all over, in a great symphony of sexual moans and screams.

I was stunned for a few moments, as were my “partners.” The Mexican came to his senses before I did. Realizing what had happened, he pulled up his pants, grabbed his clothes in a panic, and ran away before I could react, all the while screaming “Lo siento! Lo siento!”

I looked down at “Mandy,” and she looked up at me. Her eyes teared up as she got to her feet. “I.. I’m so sorry, Jaycee. I… couldn’t help myself! I’m… a slut. I’m so sorry! You must hate me so much, now!”

Her sobs broke my heart. I put my arm around her shoulders, brought her inside, and tried to console her. “Now now,” I kept whispering in her ear.

One thing led to another, and in the process we ended up in bed again. And you know what they say about make up sex.

—–

A few hours later, we all gathered to check out and go to the airport. There were a lot of tensions in the group. The four of us (Brooke, Mandy, Meghan and myself) knew what was REALLY going on, but not the others. Antony was avoiding looking at “Mandy.” Frank (who had learned about Antony’s indiscretion) looked really upset and was standing much farther from Antony than usual. I wanted to stay close to “Mandy,” but to keep up appearances, I had to appear close to “Brooke” (who looked like Mandy). That made us both uncomfortable and we avoided touching each other. Jennifer also looked awkward in her clothes, like they were too tight (they were!) and she was afraid to make big movements and cause the seams to rip. Jason was the only one who looked blissfully ignorant of what was going on. (It was only later we really figured out that his IQ had dropped significantly as his tan had grown darker.)

The ride to the airport was fairly silent, as was the plane ride home.

We landed, got our luggage, and parted ways. Mandy, Brooke, Meghan and myself waited until the others were out of view before switching partners. I left with “Mandy” and Meghan left with “Brooke.” It was an awkward parting and we all made it short.

“Let’s get together tomorrow and talk this stuff out, okay?” Meghan asked. We all nodded, just wanting this to be over.

And moments later, it was over.

–Jaycee

Next update: Friday

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