Anne's Collection #1: Five Stories

by Anne Eton

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright 2013

  Seducing the Cheerleader Captain

  Flight

  Big-Boobed Beth

  Chilled

  Night Swimming

  Thanks for reading!

  The Beard excerpt

  Also by Anne Eton

  Connect with me online

  Want more stories?

  Anne's Collection #1: Five Stories

  By Anne Eton

  Copyright 2013 Beginnings Press

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. All characters in this fictional story are 18 or older.

  This ebook is also available in paperback.

  Copyright 2013 Beginnings Press

  ISBN-13 (mobi): 978-1-62602-024-5

  Seducing the Cheerleader Captain

  “Looks like I picked the wrong night to get laid.”

  Hearing this, Jodie Underwood’s head turned. Jodie was dressed, as usual, in an untucked flannel shirt and baggy jeans. The clothes almost but not quite concealed her thick curvy figure. She touched her short dark spiked hair and thought: Holy shit, Rebecca Drysdale is drunk!

  Her object of scrutiny, Rebecca, was in Gap khaki pants and an expensive Chanel T-shirt, leaning against a wall. Rebecca conformed to every stereotype of what a senior cheerleader captain should look like: tall, long blonde hair, big boobs, a flat stomach, and a perfect, dazzling white smile when she chose to flash it. Jodie had often wondered how much her orthodontics had cost. It didn’t really matter; her father, Bob Drysdale, had plenty of money from his chain of car dealerships. He had married a beauty queen. Luckily for their daughter, Rebecca had inherited her mother’s genetics and not her father’s. Her father was a short, squat troll.

  Rebecca had never guessed that she had been Jodie’s object of scrutiny, and lust, for their full four years at Linville High. Rebecca had always been the sexiest girl in school. She had never dated a freshman, even when she was a freshman, and her boyfriends had all been jocks. Her current beau, Michael Standish, had been an All-State football player. Jodie didn’t understand football, and she didn’t care to. All Jodie had understood was that Rebecca Drysdale wore a tight cheerleader outfit at the school’s varsity games and showed skin. That was enough for Jodie to go to all the varsity games—football, basketball, soccer, you name it. Jodie’s friends were mystified as to why she attended so many games, but they did not dare to ask her why. Jodie possessed a commanding, intimidating presence. She had openly dated girls at school, but the bigot bullies left her alone—Jodie’s tough reputation preceded her. Which made her all the more attractive to certain kinds of girls.

  Except, Rebecca Drysdale was not that kind of girl. Preppy, moneyed, Republican, boring. Rebecca had made it no secret that her only goal in life was to marry and have four children before she turned 30. Naturally, she might leave for college, but she had no desire to ever move away from Linville. On the opposite spectrum, Jodie couldn’t wait to get out of the town she felt was small-minded, provincial, and just plain stupid.

  Tonight celebrated the last Saturday of the seniors’ high school lives. They graduated Monday. David Velacruz was throwing a party for the entire class in his gigantic home, which most of the seniors—particularly “outliers” like Jodie Underwood—had never seen. David’s parents were among the few Linville citizens even richer than Rebecca’s. (Conveniently for the party, Mr. Velacruz and his wife were out of town.) The Velacruz home impressed everyone. The living room alone was big enough to land a small plane in. And one wouldn’t even have to move the Steinway grand piano.

  Jodie studied Rebecca. Usually, Rebecca moved in a big circle of cheerleader friends. These Heathers walked through the school and the town in a migrating-bird formation: a big V, with Rebecca at the tip of the spear. However, tonight, Rebecca’s friends had peeled off one by one as various boys had approached them with some drunken variant of “Hey, I wanna talk to you.” The boys had led the girls outside, downstairs, upstairs—anywhere with a little privacy. Everybody knew what was happening. Tonight was all about getting it on, last-chance hook-ups…

  And now Rebecca was left with only Jenny and Brenda, the least attractive of Rebecca’s cheerleader circle. Jenny and Brenda must have been thrilled to be hanging out with the great Rebecca one-on-one. Jodie watched Rebecca shake her head again, take a big swig from a plastic cup, and repeat: “Looks like I picked the wrong night to get laid.” Jenny and Brenda laughed and agreed. They would have agreed with anything Rebecca said.

  Jodie followed Rebecca’s gaze. A group of jock boys sat on the floor cross-legged in a circle. They were playing a game. Jodie didn’t understand it, but it seemed to involve boys punching their neighbor boys in the thigh. The guys were wasted. They hooted and screamed with pain and pleasure, being stupid in only the way teenagers can be.

  Jodie turned her head again. She studied Rebecca with a cold eye. Rebecca had been drinking all night—and hitting the hard stuff to boot, going again and again to a small table covered with bottles of spirits. She had finally just stayed there, where she remained now, leaning against the wall with the liquor close at hand. Her boyfriend was not in town. Michael Standish had been a senior last year, when Rebecca and Jodie had been juniors. He was now playing football at some big-name university. He’s probably still there, Jodie thought. She guessed Rebecca was most likely upset that her boyfriend was not at the party. Jodie had never seen Rebecca drink, ever. But tonight, with the stress of graduating high school—a place that was hell to most, but pure heaven to Rebecca Drysdale—and the unknown of college before her, and making new friends, and maybe more separations from her hot-shot boyfriend, Rebecca had turned to the bottle.

  Jodie gasped as a thought occurred to her. ”Looks like I picked the wrong night to get laid”—she’s not kidding. She’s drinking because she’s horny. Michael Standish had not visited Rebecca much during the past year, as far as Jodie knew. He no doubt had been busy with his NCAA Division I football program. And, also no doubt, its college coed temptations. Rebecca’s frustration must have been building. Had she actually hoped to cheat on him tonight? She would’ve “shown him,” not to mention she’d have also enjoyed some much-needed sexual release.

  But now she was watching her plan swirl down the tubes. No boy had even talked to Rebecca Drysdale all night. In the manner that movie starlets and internationally famous models complained how men never asked them out, Rebecca’s perfect-ten looks intimidated the male species.

  Jodie suddenly felt overjoyed that tonight, for once, she herself had decided to drink in moderation. A little voice inside her head had told her that she would be needing her wits. She thanked the voice. Then she concentrated. She had to talk to Rebecca alone. But that would be impossible with those stupid hangers-on, Jenny and Brenda, always by Rebecca’s side. This was their moment of glory. They would not leave Rebecca for anything. Or would they?

  Jodie hurried away, scanning around her. The only guys left at this late hour were the ones who either would not or could not hook up with the most desirable girls: the math wizards, the drama dorks, the Star Trek Club. Seriously, who would ever start a Star Trek Club in high school, much less actually belong to it? Jodie tried to focus. She kept walking.

  Suddenly, Tracy approached her. Jodie groaned inwardly. They had broken up a month ago. Tracy was short, with long dark hair and a chubby hourglass figure that had been the source of Jodie’s initial attraction. Tracy had at first been s
hocked by Jodie’s come-on. She came from a nice Italian-American family and was not interested in dating girls, she had said. Three weeks later, Jodie was taking off Tracy’s clothes. At first Tracy had been a pillow princess — never going down on Jodie, always the other way around. It had taken more than four months to finally persuade Tracy to eat pussy. Tracy had never really gotten into it, but it didn’t matter, because by then Jodie was bored with her. Jodie had tried to break up with Tracy as gently as possible, but Tracy had kept mooning over her. Tracy kept sending her e-mails, texts, even given her cute little wrapped presents that she somehow slipped into Jodie’s bag at school when Jodie was not looking. If Rebecca had not been around that night, Jodie might have been interested in one last lay with the curvy, shy, soft-spoken Tracy Agostino. But tonight, Jodie had bigger fish to fry.

  Tracy flashed a quick, eager smile. “Hi Jodie! Are you enjoying the party?”

  Jodie frowned. “I can’t talk right now. Sorry.”

  Tracy looked hurt. “Sure. I just… Can we talk later?”

  “Tomorrow. Okay?” Jodie hurried away.

  In the kitchen, Jodie hit pay dirt. Two good-looking senior guys were pumping beer from the keg and laughing. Jodie didn’t know their names, but they were on the basketball squad. She had seen them play in the games she had attended. The boys were good athletes. Those cheerleader idiots Jenny and Brenda would certainly know who they were.

  Jodie studied the guys. They seemed to be straight. They were a little out of Jenny and Brenda’s league. Still, Jodie figured, if a girl offered it up to a dude on a platter, what dude would say no?

  There was no time to lose. Jodie walked up to them. “Hey,” she said. “What are you guys’ names?”

  “Great grammar,” said the taller one.

  “Rick,” said the second boy.

  “Chuck,” said the first guy.

  “Okay, well. Do you know Jenny and Brenda? On the cheerleading squad?”

  The boys looked mystified.

  “They sent me. They know you’re here. Look, it’s up to you, but if you’d like some alone time with them, it’s now or never.”

  Rick and Chuck turned to each other. Then they looked back at Jodie. “For real?”

  “No bullshit.” Jodie pointed at Chuck, then Rick. “Jenny wants to meet you, out by the pool. And Brenda wants to meet you, downstairs.”

  “Where downstairs?”

  “She didn’t say. It doesn’t matter, okay? They’re wasted. They just now made up their minds to do this. There’s not much time. Are you in, or out?”

  The boys nodded anxiously. “Yeah, yeah!” “For sure.”

  “Okay.” Jodie had an idea. She pointed at an ice bucket with many brightly colored bottles. “Take some wine coolers with you.” Jenny and Brenda were exactly the kind of girls who liked wine coolers, Jodie thought. “Play it cool. They are a little nervous, and they’ll try to cover it up, you know? Just talk to them, let them drink, and let things happen naturally.”

  The boys nodded again, eagerly this time.

  “All right. Five minutes.” As she hurried out of the kitchen, Jodie looked back over her shoulder. The boys traded amazed grins, high-fived, and began yanking wine coolers out of the ice bucket.

  Crossing the den to the living room, Jodie was once again stopped by Tracy. Jodie sighed with exasperation. “WHAT?”

  Tracy seemed near tears. She had been drinking. “I miss you…”

  “I told you, we can talk about it tomorrow. Just not right now. Okay?”

  “Why? What’s going on?”

  “Leave me alone, or I will never talk to you again. Fuck off!” Jodie winced as she saw the hurt in Tracy’s eyes. Usually, she would never have been so cruel. However, Rebecca Drysdale was waiting. And where Rebecca Drysdale was concerned, nothing, absolutely nothing, would get in Jodie’s way. Jodie had waited too long, had too many sleepless nights masturbating and thinking of Rebecca. The possibility that it might ACTUALLY HAPPEN, whatever the odds, filled Jodie with a ruthless focus.

  She left Tracy crying in the middle of the den. As Jodie hurried back, she saw that Rebecca, Jenny and Brenda were exactly where they had been before, leaning against the wall next to the liquor table.

  Jodie approached casually. She ignored Rebecca, instead nodding to the other two. “Hey.”

  The girls regarded her uncertainly. None of the cheerleaders had ever spoken to Jodie. “Hey,” Brenda said.

  “Are you Jenny and Brenda?”

  Jenny did a double take. She was the dumbest of the three, and also the most prudish. “How did you know?”

  “It’s not a wild guess, if that’s what you’re wondering.” To Jodie’s surprise, the other two laughed. Feeling more confident, Jodie continued: “A couple of guys asked me for a favor. Do you know Rick and Chuck? On the basketball team?”

  Jenny and Brenda looked at each other. To Jodie’s satisfaction, she saw that Rebecca was growing irritated at being ignored. Jenny and Brenda turned back to Jodie.

  “Chuck Phillips?” Brenda asked. “I don’t know Rick’s last name.”

  “Yeah, I don’t know either. Anyway, you guys know who they are, right?”

  The girls nodded.

  “They wanted to know if they could talk to you. Do you guys like them, or something?”

  Brenda jumped in before Jenny could speak: “Chuck is really cute. Like, he’s kind of arrogant and everything, but he kind of backs it up, too.”

  “Okay, well, he likes you also,” Jodie said. She tried to remember if she had told Chuck that it was Brenda coming to him, or Jenny. Jodie decided it didn’t matter. Those guys don’t even know which one’s which, so who cares? What mattered was that Brenda liked Chuck. Jodie pointed at Brenda. “Chuck wants to meet you out by the pool.”

  “When?”

  “Right now. He said he’s been waiting a long time to talk to you, but he’s scared you’re going to reject him and not show up.”

  Brenda turned to Jenny. “Oh my God!”

  “And Rick is waiting for you, downstairs,” Jodie said to Jenny.

  Jenny looked skeptical. “What does he want to do downstairs?”

  Rebecca laughed, inserting herself into the conversation. “Take a guess!”

  Jenny and Brenda whispered intensely, for once ignoring Rebecca. They argued over whether they should go. Brenda wanted to, Jenny didn’t.

  “They also said to tell you something else,” Jodie said. The girls stopped talking and looked at her. “They said either both of you go, or neither of you go.”

  “What?” Brenda said.

  “No,” Jenny said.

  Brenda turned to her. “Come on! Let’s just go check it out. Why not? Come on. Please? Please, please, please?”

  Finally, Jenny agreed. The two girls said goodbye to Rebecca. Jenny went downstairs, and Brenda headed off to the pool.

  Rebecca scowled as she watched them leave. She’s like, even Jenny and Brenda are getting laid tonight, and I’m not, Jodie thought. Jodie casually moved next to Rebecca, leaning against the wall. Rebecca ignored her.

  Jodie kept thinking. Jenny might come back any minute. She’s not into Rick, and the little priss miss will probably run away screaming if that guy puts the moves on her. When he puts the moves on her. Jodie knew that this meant she didn’t have much time. She either needed to get Rebecca out of there on some pretext, so that she could work a slow seduction on the cheerleader captain, or just proposition her straight out. The direct approach.

  Jodie decided to postpone that decision, for now. She smiled. “My name’s Jodie,” she said.

  Rebecca’s head swiveled. She smirked. “Yeah, I know. You’re the lesbian.”

  Thunderstruck, Jodie tried to process. Then she decided to stop processing, and wing it. She gave Rebecca a sly smile. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  “Not at all.” Rebecca turned away again.

  End talk.

  Jodie’s brain raced. What to say? The blonde was c
learly not in the least interested in having a conversation with her. Rebecca’s eyes kept roaming over the room, searching for something. What? A guy? One of her friends? Did she even know what she was looking for? She had ingested quite a lot of alcohol. Rebecca held her plastic cup with two hands, tapping the bottom in a monotonous rhythm as she scanned the room: tap, tap, tap, tap.

  Fuck it, Jodie decided. A nice long, slow seduction was not in the cards. Jenny would probably return any second and spoil any chance of that happening, anyway. The direct approach it was. Jodie steeled herself with an acting technique one of her drama friends had once told her about: pretend you really are whatever you want to feel—happy, sad, scared—just focus on that emotion and be it. Jodie concentrated on total confidence.

  Smiling, she asked the back of Rebecca’s head: “Want to go upstairs?”

  Rebecca’s face turned back again. This is it, Jodie thought.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard.”

  Rebecca stared. “You’re kidding, right?”

  Jodie kept smiling.

  Rebecca started laughing, covering her mouth. She laughed a long time. Jodie remained the picture of confidence, smiling and staring.

  Finally, Rebecca’s laughter died down. “You’re for real, aren’t you?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Rebecca betrayed a moment of uncertainty, glancing around as if to see if anyone was listening in on the conversation. Then she looked down at her drink. Her eyebrows knitted in an expression that Jodie recognized from many years of Rebecca-watching: the blonde was thinking about something seriously. She didn’t do it often.

  Then she asked: “What would I have to do?”

  For a split-second, Jodie panicked. What does that mean? A thousand possibilities raced through her head. Maybe Rebecca was wondering if she would have to get naked. Maybe Rebecca was asking if she would have to go down on Jodie. Maybe Rebecca was so clueless, or drunk, that she didn’t even know what she was asking. All these, and more, were valid possibilities. What should Jodie answer? Everything was on the line.