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Or is it runneth over?
Oh who gives a shit, the cup fucking got knocked over and all her crazy came splashing out.
When I removed the hand from my eyes, Shirley was gone.
“And that was your plan?” I asked. “Jill, you’re out of your mind.”
“Look, if he’s straight he’ll find his way back up here. If he’s gay, he won’t.”
Right, because every straight hunk wants to fuck the psycho whore in 5-F.
And according to Jill’s assumption, the hunk was gay. He never made his way back to first class.
We exited the plane, retrieved our bags, and headed out to the curb to catch our hotel shuttle. We weren’t the only ones. The airport sidewalk was jam packed with horny recent high school grads and college summer escapees.
Highlights were in fashion. It was like a kaleidoscope of blondes and brunettes with black, blonde, red, green, purple, or blue highlights. And I had the feeling if I shook any of them I’d hear the grainy sound a kaleidoscope makes when shaken. These young chicks would all be getting fucked on this trip.
Sluts.
How hypocritical of me, right? Whatever.
Every young blonde reminds me of the young chick my ex cheated on me with. Anyone under the age of 20 is a slut.
We, who are older, are what I like to call…ravenous. We’re starved and just looking for our fill. The young chicks need to get in line!
And as they stood in line waiting for the shuttle, the guys all hovering around them already seemed drunk. Most wore flip flops and tank tops.
Tattoos told of each of their tribes. Some were religious enough to sport crosses while also wearing gangster-rap quotes like “ride or die” and “only God can judge me.”
“That’s our shuttle,” Ben said, as if we hadn’t already spotted the hotel logo on its side.
“Ride or die,” Jill said as she spotted the owner of that ingenious tattoo. “Sounds like a challenge.”
“No more challenges, Jill,” I said.
“Bitch, we’re in Cancun,” she reminded me. “It’s all challenges from here on out.”
“My Cancun conquest,” I said.
Maybe I’ll hook up with one of these guys in line. Maybe not. Maybe…maybe…maybe.
As I stared at the line of young guys in front of me and noticed the outlines of some of their big college cocks beneath their shorts, I felt the memory of Braden fading away. I remembered the power of MAYBE and was ready to finally kick this trip into high gear.
Act 2 – The Setting
I was a tigress on the hunt in a tight orange dress, maybe too tight for my figure, but I wanted to own it. I rocked a hot ass and killer boobs and the guys were going to notice tonight. The black bracelet snapped to my wrist was the perfect tiger stripe and its white letters told of which club we’d visit on our first night in town.
Jill’s dress was tighter than mine and she’d gone braless. Her perfect-handful tits with their forever-hard nipples were firm beneath the white fabric. I could even make out the round shape of her areolas.
I can’t lie. Jill was a turn on. My girl was definitely attractive and I know if I had a penis it would’ve been hard. But since I was able to think with my brain, and not my Johnson, I settled on simply admiring her beauty.
“You’re so getting taken advantage of tonight,” I warned.
“There’s no taking advantage of this bitch,” Jill replied. “I do the taking advantage of.”
“Bitches,” Ben called out as he entered our room, in a tight black suit with a tighter blue shirt visible through the unbuttoned jacket front.
Isn’t it amazing how only your friends can call you a bitch and get away with it?
