Slippery When Wet (A Romance Novella): Maybe Mandy 3

by Chris Genovese

  “True. But my job leaves a lot to be desired. I’m thinking of going with Mandy Young—District Attorney. Or maybe Mandy Young—Professor of English.”

  “How about, Mandy Young—High Priced Escort? That would fucking rock! Come on, say that.”

  “I am not telling my graduating class that I’m a hooker.”

  “You’d be more popular.”

  He had a point, but still, I wasn’t going that route. No way.

  By the time we entered the hotel, Jill had already retrieved our keys, putting all three rooms under her name. I’d intended on shacking up with Ben until Jill reminded me of our trip to Cancun and how he’d cock blocked me most of the time.

  She walked over to us and slapped a key card down in each of our palms.

  “Bitches,” she announced. “Y’all owe me. This place is fucking expensive. You’d think we were staying at the Ritz Carlton for the cost of these rooms.”

  “I told you I’d pay for my own, hussy,” Ben replied.

  “Ohh I like that. Hussy. Well, I snatched up those three rooms ‘cause they’re all next to each other and they’re almost fully booked. See that handsome stud over there?”

  Jill pointed at the good looking guy behind the counter.

  “That’s Kenneth,” she added. “I get the feeling he’s seen my videos ‘cause he kept checking out my tits.”

  I looked at her tits and the way her cleavage was on display, any guy would look at her tits. Hell, I’d look at ‘em even if she hadn’t put the thought in my mind.

  “Hussy” Ben repeated as he too glanced at her chest.

  “You should open up your own store for shirts like that,” I joked. “Booby Gap.”

  Jill walked toward the elevator with Ben in tow. I followed after them, pulling my suitcase in one hand and struggling to lift my large purse-like day bag in the other. As I rushed to keep up, my bag slipped out of my hand and slid down my arm, landing at the crease between my elbow, causing my arm to drop and my hand to open up in a claw like form.

  That’s when I ran right into Kenneth as he walked away from the front desk and right into my perverted path. My head bumped right into his massive chest and my hand, clawed out the way it was, cupped his cock. And I don’t mean like gave it a gentle swat. No, I seriously grabbed his balls and dick before I had the chance to squeal and pull it away.

  Kenneth winced and lifted a leg to protect himself, like some sort of football player about ready to spin away from an open field tackle.

  “Oh…shit,” he said. “Yep, those are mine.”

  “Oh my God,” I replied.

  I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I’d accidentally groped the blond hunk in the hotel issued brown suit and tie.

  “I’m sorry,” I added, way too low under my breath.

  “What…why…what?” he said, fumbling his words.

  “That wasn’t what it looked like.”

  “Felt like,” he corrected me.

  Great, he’s a fucking smartass too.

  “I have to go,” I said as I whipped my suitcase handle around him and went to catch Jill and Ben who’d apparently left me far behind.

  All the elevators were closed. I punched the buttons in front of me and fixed my eyes on the metal door. Nothing would get me to glance back in his direction. I needed to make him a distant memory…and fast.

  Alone in my room, I collapsed on the bed, mortified, and once again thought the trip was a bad idea. Nothing about high school was all that great. The back of my yearbook was full of all the typical, superficial bullshit.

  “Stay funny and sweet.” Yes, that’s me. Funny and sweet.

  “I’ll never forget our times together in Mr. Botcher’s biology.” Me? I’d already forgotten everything about biology. The only good thing about it was sex-ed.

  “K.I.T.” I hadn’t kept in touch with any of the people who’d be downstairs tonight.

  I closed my eyes and willed myself to remember the greatest thing about high school. I remembered scrunchies and Bongo shorts and never ever taking a crap in school. The bathrooms always smelled like smoke and never had toilet paper. Yes, public school was rough. I mean it wasn’t inner-city Los Angeles tough, but it wasn’t glamorous private school either.

  What is my favorite memory from high school?

  I had to have one. The first time I got fingered? No, that was horrible. His name was Alan. He was in the drama club with me. We were supposed to be rehearsing for our part in Romeo and Juliet. I wasn’t even Juliet but he talked me into helping him with his lines. That was my first kiss too.

  Yes, I’d already had my period and had already started having horny thoughts, but not about Alan. Still, as soon as his tongue entered my mouth, darting in and out like some sort of strange lizard, I did get turned on. He smelled of Cool Water cologne and had that awesome Zach Morris hairdo.

  As things started to get hot and heavy, he pulled me into his closet. Something about the lock on his bedroom door being busted and he didn’t want us to get caught. I agreed because I didn’t want to get caught either and I’d just had my first real kiss. I wanted another one.

  So there we were, in his dark closet, when his hand found its way between my legs. I’d never shaved before and I remember his finger pulled at my pubic hair and I howled in his mouth. He apologized and kept going. He had no idea what he was doing. It took him forever to actually find the spot to insert that finger. That one finger. That one finger that was almost too much finger. It hurt like hell but I’d already heard about fingering from Jill who was a year older than me. So I knew I needed to go with it.

  Jill had warned me, “It’s weird at first but then it’s fucking amazing. And if he sticks a finger in your butt…jackpot!”

  I didn’t want a finger in my butt. She could keep that experience for herself.

  So, finally, Alan’s finger found its way to where it needed to be and pushed its way inside. He wasn’t gentle enough. I’m not sure any guy could be tender enough the first time. Once his finger got a bit wet, he really started to work it, and I didn’t know what to do. I kissed him some more and then leaned my head back against the wall. I couldn’t see shit. It was so dark in there.

  Right when I collapsed into his chest, burying my face as I started to enjoy it, his bedroom door creaked open. Then came the sound of an old lady whistling and singing some oldies tune. I don’t remember which one.

  With his voice so close to my ear I could feel his breath, Alan whispered, “Shh, don’t move. My grandma.”

  So there we sat, in his dark bedroom closet, his finger deep inside me, as we listened to his grandmother clean his bedroom on the other side of the door. Her song changed and this one I’ll never forget. I got fingered to Jeremiah was a Bullfrog.

  Alan was my first kiss and my first fingering, but he wouldn’t be downstairs tonight. He was in Jill’s class, meaning he was older than me. I doubted he’d crash the party like Jill. She was unique in her willingness to be the older slut.

  Chapter 4 – Going with the Flow

  Eight o’clock rolled around quickly. Jill and Ben were already half drunk. I was trying to catch up with them. I needed to have some alcohol in me if I was going to make it through the night. Lying in my hotel room, I realized my biggest worry was running into Craig Shivers. He’d been my first fuck. It was lousy, but it was my first, and it was the one heard round the world.

  I’d cried during it, it hurt a lot, and I also yelled a lot. I’d been more verbal than I’d ever expected to be. Mostly because I was drunk and I was in a lot of pain. He didn’t force me. Not at all. I was the last of my small group of girlfriends to lose her virginity so I was ready and willing, but I hadn’t expected it to hurt so much. Craig was a big guy, a member of the football team, and I later found out was on a personal mission to fuck as many of his classmates as possible.

  Craig 1, Mandy 0. That round definitely went to him.

  After my third shot of tequila, I thought it might not be so bad to b
ump into good ol’ Craig. Maybe I could make him squeal this time. He’d created a monster in me.

  I’m the Queen-motherfucking-bee now!

  I’m not sure why I start talking like I’m some kind of battle rapper after I’ve had a few drinks in me. Like I’m Foxy Brown or Lil Kim or something. “Bitch I’ll destroy you!”

  Doesn’t happen all the time, but when I’m nervous or in a bad mood and I’m drinking tequila…not the greatest mix. I needed to switch to rum or vodka, the come-fuck-me drinks.

  ***

  When we reached the lobby, we found a table with rows of nametags on top. The girl behind the table looked familiar but I couldn’t quite figure out who she was.

  “You’re um…” I said, hoping she’d finish the sentence for me.

  She smiled and tilted her head to the side as if egging me on, daring me to make a guess. She wasn’t going to let me get away with this one. Dammit. Had we been friends? We had a large class so I had a lot of people to rifle through in my mental rolodex.

  “You’re um…” I said again, snapping my fingers like that would give me some sort of edge.

  “She’s Becky,” Ben said, pointing at her nametag, which was gold and wasn’t so easy to see over her brown coat.

  Brown coat. Like the hotel uniform.

  “I was only kiddin’ with you. I’m Becky with the hotel events team. That was so mean of me. Gosh, I really am a mean one, aren’t I?”

  I only smiled. Mean one wasn’t exactly what I’d call her. She was quite the b…

  “Becky,” I said. “We’re obviously here for the reunion.”

  She helped me find my tag, which said Amanda on it, and I hated it right away. Amanda was the high school me. The shy, insecure, fingered-to-Jeremiah-was-a-Bullfrog me. Nowadays I’m Mandy and I get fingered to better music, like Maroon 5.

  God, I’m still a loser.

  But honestly, if you haven’t had your pussy diddled to the sound of Adam Levine singing about payphones, you’re missing out.

  Ben found his Benjamin tag and pinned it to his jacket while Jill wasted her time looking for a nametag that obviously wouldn’t be there.

  “What are you looking for?” I asked. “You weren’t in our class, remember?”

  “Shit, yeah, you’re right.”

  When Becky turned her head for a second, Jill swiped one of the other nametags off the table and walked away. She pulled a pen from her purse, flipped over the tag, and scribbled her name on it.

  “You’re so ghetto,” Ben said.

  At about that time, I realized the song My Prerogative by Bobby Brown was booming from behind the closed wooden doors of Event Room 3. Was that even from my high school years? I think that was years before I was in high school, right? I mean I went neon bowling to Achy Breaky Heart like the rest of ‘em, but I don’t remember Bobby Brown being on any of my mix tapes.

  The doors burst open.

  “Mandy?” a cute blonde girl yelled.

  Her blue dress hugged her body tightly, leaving one shoulder naked, and climbed higher up her right leg than her left. Her hair was in a bun and a few strands hung down perfectly. She was adorable and looked somewhat familiar.

  She moved quickly toward me and as she did, the heel snapped off her right shoe, and she tumbled to the ground, landing nearly right on her face. I didn’t even have the chance to yell, “Look out.” Not that that would have stopped her.

  The poor thing sat up and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. Her bun was looser now, and as soon as I saw the embarrassed look on her face, I knew exactly who she was.

  “Porter?” I asked.

  It was her. Holy shit.

  “Porter!” I yelled as I came to her aid, helped her climb to her feet, and hugged her as tight as I possibly could.

  She’d been my best friend back in the tenth grade but had moved away to Chicago because her parents split up or something like that. She’d been my other half, and the moment she fell on her face, I knew it was her. I’ve always been a glutton for punishment, always finding myself in fucked up situations, but whenever I was with Porter, it all seemed to gravitate toward her. The unfortunate clung to her, but in hilarious ways. Nothing seriously bad ever happened to her, but if you set three cheeseburgers in front of her and only one had moldy cheese, she’d pick the nasty one every…single…time.

  “Mandy,” she said into my shoulder. “God, I hoped you’d be here. You’re the only reason I came to this thing. I don’t even like most of these assholes, but when we lost contact I couldn’t figure out how to get a hold of you. You’re not on social media or anything! Then I saw the post about this reunion online and rushed to buy a ticket. My God, you look great.”

  Of course I was on social media. Not quite sure what that was all about. I did avoid most of my hometown friends and maybe she hadn’t looked me up by “Mandy.”

  “I look great? You look fabulous. Look at you, Sexy Mama.”

  She slid off both of her shoes and clutched them in her hand. I was pretty sure this wasn’t her first broken heel.

  “Guess these are trash,” she said. “Sucks but…it is what it is. The party doesn’t stop when you’re barefoot.”

  Yep, same ol’ Porter. Never a dull moment.

  I turned to my two other friends.

  “Guys, do you remember Porter?”

  Ben did and he wrapped her up in a big bear hug. Jill only shook her hand.

  “I’m sorry,” Jill said. “I was in the next class up and I didn’t know many people in your class. Mandy was one of my good friends, but hell, we didn’t start hanging out until right around…what…your tenth grade year, my eleventh?”

  “Right around the time I left,” Porter added.

  Porter snaked her arm into mine and led me through the wooden doors.

  “I swear I don’t remember anyone here,” she said. “You’re going to seriously have to help me tonight.”

  “Me? I thought the members of the hotel staff were our classmates.”

  “Oh boy.”

  “Yeah, we need to get drinks as soon as possible,” I said. “You maybe not, miss fall on her face.”

  “Oh that? I’m stone-fucking-sober, man. That’s just me. You know this already. Remember the time I chipped my tooth?”

  “That wasn’t your fault though,” I reminded her.

  It wasn’t. One of the class bullies had sneaked up behind her while she was busy doing her work and had tied her shoe laces to the bars on her desk. Her left foot was tied to the left side and the right foot to the other. It was right before the bell rang, and when it did, she tried to stand up and the desk went with her. She fell flat on her face, chipping her tooth when her jaw hit the desk in front of her. She went to the hospital. The bully was expelled.

  Porter smiled at me like she was auditioning for a toothpaste commercial. Her teeth were perfect.

  “You fixed the chip!”

  “Dated a dentist,” she admitted.

  We sat down at her table, or the one she’d arrived at earlier and was still fairly empty. She fiddled with the front of her dress, making sure her tits were propped up just right.

  “Dated a plastic surgeon too,” she said.

  “You look amazing,” I replied. “Not that you didn’t look great before.”

  “So who do we know here?” she asked.

  I wouldn’t expect her to remember everyone in the hall. We’d gone to school together since the fifth grade but our high school was situated right smack dab in the center of the area meaning kids were bused in from other towns and some of our middle school friends transferred to schools in other towns. Our student body was a real hodgepodge, a variety show of sorts.

  We sat scanning the crowd of people sitting and chatting, standing and mingling, with a few sprinkled in on the dance floor, showing off moves I hadn’t seen since the turn of the millennium.

  Seated at the next table over was Donut Dawn. She looked exactly like she did on graduation day. She’d gained a few pounds
but was as adorable in the face as always. She’d gotten her nickname in the harshest of ways. She was a cheerleader and was known for giving the football players blowjobs whenever they asked for it. Rumor was, she even got caught by one of the other cheerleaders as she went down on one guy and gave another a hand job at the same time. Donut Dawn. Poor thing. They said her mouth was permanently open like the hole at the center of a donut.

  Dawn sat with a good looking older man next to her, so she’d either put that blowjob experience to good use, or she’d cleaned up her act and found a good hearted man. Either way, she was winning.