Erotica Harem

Please don’t ‘read between the lines’ with my comments. I say what I think free of insinuations. I am a retired martial artist and retired police officer, thus I look at things differently. This is one person’s opinion. Keep writing and always have fun!

Title: Yearbook Crew

Chapter: Part 1

Author: Tim

Plot: Main character and car driver Geri, tells us of a trip of college grads or near college grads to a 'cabin' at a lake. There are 3 girls in the car, all in the front seat. We hear of the bad commute traffic on the interstate and arrival at the cabin with HIGH temperatures, likely around 100 degrees. There's some very private girl talk where we find out Geri is a bit of a loner and hasn't dated and has only had sex twice w/ guys (no mention of girls--HEY! I think that way!) and those 2 times were dismal. Two guys of the original 4 that were to join them show up with the idea to produce a second, unauthorized yearbook.......they were the yearbook team. Geri is left out, sits alone as the two other girls take to the 2 guys.

Style & Voice: 1st person via Geri

Referencing: Seems ok.

Scene/Setting: Car on freeway, lake, cabin. Unk. era but late enough for cell phones. Unk. state, country, planet, but likely USA, Earth.

Characterization: Well, it's Tim, so, good as usual altho I had issues w/ the stereotypes early on. One girl is a ditz, another 1/2 of one and Geri, down-to-earth girl. The reasonable one in the crowd; conservative. Gosh, seems like overall a female version of me. That's as far as I'll go.

Grammar: Good, cute words. A comment or two, otherwise, quite good, of course.

Just My Personal Opinion: I'll wait to see how the story concludes. It's only keeping a mild hold on me.


Yearbook Crew

(About half of 6078 words total)

“Should I do a braid instead? A pony tail is kind of little girlish, Should that be hyphenated?? isn’t it?”

I took my eyes off the road long enough to glance at Connie, who had her fingers wrapped around her long black pony tail and was flipping it up and down with nervous energy. “Whatever,” I said, and focused once more on the traffic.

“Whatever what? I need an answer.”

“No. We all need to stay alive, so shut up and let me drive!” It came out in a snappier tone than I intended, and I almost apologized. Almost.

It was a typical Friday afternoon on the interstate. Cars were traveling seventy miles-per-hour I'm bad, but do u need a comma here? bumper-to-bumper. Every time I tried to back off to put some space between my car and the guy ahead, a jerk riding my tail would roar past me on the right, flip me the bird, and cut in front of me, forcing me to slam on the brakes.If the traffic is bumper to bumper, not really likely at 70 mph, how would jerks repeatedly pass the driver on the right? Were they using the shoulder? Can't be in another lane cuz of the heavy traffic. I've found very few drivers flip off others. Also, if our driver slammed on brakes and they were bumper to bumper our driver would be rear-ended. I suppose I could have simply driven in the right lane, but between the nuts forcing their way in from entry ramps every couple of miles, and the grannies afraid to take their old heaps past forty, I figured I was safer fighting it out with the speed freaks in the fast lane. Ok, sounds like only 2 lanes? If the old ones are at 40 or less and 2 lanes the others can't be doing 70. It seems you're really playing on stereotypes here, with 'nuts' entering the freeway (are any of them sane?) and the little old lady stereotype. Sorry. Old traffic cop here.

The pointless banter of my two friends didn’t help my mood. It was fun for a while, chatting with Connie and Britney, squeezed into the front seat of the used Caddy I’d gotten as a graduation present. We’d worked together on the college yearbook our senior year, along with four guys. Now that we’d graduated and were about to go our separate ways across the country, Connie had decided it would be fun to have the seven of us get together for an outing at her uncle’s Maryland cabin.

It sounded good at the time, but now I was having second thoughts. Other than spending a few hours a week with them doing layout and design, I hardly knew any of these people. The last fifty miles in the car had taught me a lot, though. Connie and Britney had two things on their mind: food and sex. Hearing about the luscious supplies they had stashed in the coolers that filled the back seat of the car, and the even more luscious guys they’d gone out with over their four years at CSU, made me sick. Did the driver get sick at the luscious foot, the luscious guys or both? Also, Caddy's have big trunks. How about putting the coolers in there? And the more they talked about sex, the more I wondered if it was wise spending the weekend in a remote cabin with four guys none of us knew all that well. A setup like that had too many possible endings, some of them not so pretty.

Connie pulled the pink elastic band out of her hair and set to rearranging it for the third time. She’d begun the trip with it hanging straight, a dark mane halfway down her back. Then she’d pulled it into a Veronica ponytail. Now she was struggling to do a single thick braid, not an easy feat when crammed elbow-to-elbow in a car. I'm assuming our yet-to-be-named driver is female but I saw no evidence of it.

Her cell phone sang its song and she let the braid fall apart as she fished the phone out of her purse. Her face fell after a few words. “Okay, see ya in a couple hours,” she said gloomily, and shoved it back in its cubby hole.

“Damn,” she grumbled. “Ted’s sick, and Phil’s girlfriend decided she doesn’t want him to go. So just Jerry and Curt are coming. They’re running late and won’t make it for a couple of hours yet.”

Britney’s jaw dropped. “Well, ain’t that a kicker. Just two guys. No snuggle bunnies for one of us tonight.”

“Shut up,” Connie snapped. “It’s not that kind of party, and it’s not funny. I was looking forward to getting to know Ted better. He’s going to grad school in Chicago, and I’ve got a job offer there I might take. I was going to make the decision after I saw how this weekend turned out.”

“Ooooh,” Britney cooed. “Not that kind of party, huh? Sounds like you had your plans made. Of course, I suppose we could share and share alike. Three of us and two of them. The guys ought to be happy, anyway.” hell, sounds good to me !!

Connie shoved her elbow in Britney’s ribs. “It’s not that kind of party, either, so knock it off. I’m seriously depressed, and I want some sympathy.”

“No problem. Next time you’ve got a dictionary, turn to S. You’ll find sympathy between shit and syphilis.” Britney slipped an index finger through the plastic loop that held the two halves of her halter top together, and jiggled until her quivering boobs settled more comfortably into their purple-striped prison. How she had the nerve to wear that obscene thing was beyond me. Enough bare cleavage hung out over the top for a robin to build a nest, with room left over for a front patio.

I glued my eyes to the road ahead and kept my mouth shut, trying to hide my relief at the news. Two guys was better than four, at least by my count. And I knew Jerry pretty well, mainly because we got mocked together a lot. Earlier you wrote: four guys none of us knew all that well My name is Geri, and the dimwits in the yearbook crew never got tired of making dumb Jerry and Geri jokes, like answering the phone, saying it’s for one of us, and laughing when we both stood up. Jerry and I had shared a lot of sheepish grins this last year. I had the feeling he was an okay guy. Foreshadow?

It was five o’clock before we pulled up to the cabin, sitting alone in an open area beside a gorgeous lake. Connie said her uncle owned fifty acres up here, and she had promised us that the cabin was decent. No kidding. What she called a cabin was bigger than some houses in my neighborhood. We sat in the car for a minute, taking in the view of trees reflecting in clear blue water. The sun, brilliant in the cloudless sky, made the surface of the lake sparkle. My mood picked up.

Unfortunately, the moment we opened the car door we practically fainted. The forecast had been for high nineties, but they must have lowballed it. Either that, or we’d become so accustomed to the Caddy’s fabulous air conditioning that we weren’t ready to walk into a furnace. Sweat was running down my forehead and stinging my eyes by the time I’d finished lugging the first of countless Countless? Ok, I guess since this is 1st person POV Geri can exagerate, right? And use stereotypes, like above. coolers to the cabin door. We stepped into the dim front room, but were chagrined again when we realized that it was even hotter inside than out. Connie and I ran around opening windows while Britney sat on the cooler fanning herself with a Cosmo she’d brought.

We were dying by the time we dragged the last cooler from the car and stashed it in a corner with the others. Britney pulled a box of cheap Lambrusco out of one of them, broke the seal, and found three beer mugs in a cupboard. The thought of drinking on an empty stomach set off a few alarm bells, but the condensation dripping down the side of the cold box made it look heavenly. I filled my mug and gulped half of it before collapsing in a chair.

I nursed the rest of my wine while Connie and Britney compared the virtues of cooking the steaks now, and heck with the late guys, versus waiting for them to show up, whenever that might be. Or we could save them for tomorrow. The way they went on about it, you’d think they were debating something that really mattered. I busied myself with more important tasks, like equipping the bathroom with toilet paper, and finding the only room that contained just one single bed. I claimed it for my own by putting my suitcase on the bed and hanging some of my clothes on wall hooks.

When I finished and returned to the main room, Connie was standing at the door. “Let’s go for a walk,” she said, and set a powder-blue Yankees baseball cap on her head. I think it was the NY Mets that had the powder blue caps. The Yankees have had dark blue for hundreds of years! She’d changed out of her traveling jeans and into a pair of spotless white shorts that did an incredible job of showing off her slim and perfectly tanned legs. I sighed and resolved to join a fitness club as soon as I got a job.

Britney looked aghast at the suggestion. “It’s boiling out there! No way.”

I needed to be outside, though. The wine was hitting me hard, and I realized that if I didn’t walk around, I’d probably fall asleep. So I followed her out the door.

Connie headed straight for the dock, a fancy wooden structure that extended a good fifty feet into the lake. An inflatable rubber raft about ten feet square was moored further out. We strolled to the end of the dock, and Connie sat down. She took off her sneakers and socks and dangled her feet in the water. It looked wonderful, so I did the same.

“What’s the problem?” she asked, after we’d been sitting for a minute.

I shook my head. “I don’t have a problem.”

“Bull. You’ve been uptight all day. I think it’s because Jerry and Curt are coming. You’re nervous about being stuck out here with a couple of guys you don’t really know. Am I right?”

I looked at her and laughed. “Maybe a little. They might, you know, take being invited out here the wrong way.”

“Britney doesn’t think that’s a problem. Neither do I. Nothing’s gonna happen if we don’t let it.”

“Right.”

Connie lay back and pulled her cap over her eyes. “You ever had a bad experience? With a guy, I mean.”

I wasn’t sure I was ready to get that personal with someone I hardly knew, so I pinched my lips together and didn’t answer. A little wave of dizziness from the wine passed through my head. Sitting up straight on the hard dock suddenly became more of an effort than my hot, tipsy body wanted to handle. I matched Connie’s move by lying back, taking off my sun hat, and placing it over my face. The darkness, a cool breeze that flowed over the water, and the feel of the lake chilling my feet were delightful. Calm settled over me for the first time that day.

“Well?” Connie brushed her fingers over my hand for a moment and then drew back.

Any other time, her question would have sounded like prying, but the way she said it sounded like she actually cared. “Bad experience? Not really,” I answered. “I mean, I wasn’t raped or anything.”

“That’s good.”

The sound of water lapping against the deck posts, punctuated by occasional squalls from a bird that circled overhead, filled my world until Connie spoke again. “How about good sex? Any hot lovers?”

She said it with a lilt in her voice, but with a serious undertone. I decided to tell the truth. It was easier than lying, or telling her to mind her own business. “No.”

“Oh.” Connie’s feet swished back and forth in the water a few times. “You a virgin?”

I adjusted my hat to block out the sun a little better, and tried to decide what to say. Again, the truth pushed to the front, and it felt right. I’d never told anybody about my awful first time, and a sudden urge to let it out took control. “Nope. I lost that the night of my senior prom.”

“Not good, though, huh?”

“Well, my date was so drunk that he never finished what he started. In fact, he passed out halfway through and just about squashed me to death. Good thing he didn’t finish, too, because when I rolled him off he didn’t have the rubber on any more. I had to dig it out with my finger.”

“Ew, bummer.”

“Yeah.”

“You ever have a boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Oh.” She was silent for a while. “You ever, uh, do it again?”

“Yeah. Once. Our dorm had a party. There was this really cute guy I’d had my eye on for a while. I talked to him, and somehow it came out that my roommate was away for the night. He asked if he could come back to my room. Idiot that I am, I told him he could. It...didn’t work out.” A distant woodpecker drummed on a tree, and I let the rhythm lull me into a half trance.

“What?” Connie smacked my leg. “Come on, girl, don’t leave me hanging. What happened?”

The memory had begun to suffocate my thoughts like a heavy black cloud, but her playful tone drove it away. I rubbed my eyes and pulled the hat tighter over my face. “You sure you want to hear this stuff? It’s kinda personal.”

“Course I want to hear it! Geri, I care. I really do. Besides...” She nudged me with her elbow. “I’m dying of curiosity. We girls gotta stick together. How about this? You tell me yours, and I tell you mine.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. The wine was making pleasant little swishes in my head, and talking to Connie felt good. Lying here on the dock, side by side under the late afternoon sun, hats pulled down, it occurred to me that I could tell Connie things that I’d blush telling a therapist. If I believed in those quacks enough to ever go to one, that is.

She nudged my foot with hers. “Come on.”

I took a deep breath. I’d never told this to anyone either, and thought I never would. “The second I closed the door he grabbed my top and tried to pull it over my head. I made him stop, and he got mad. He called me a stupid tease, though stupid wasn’t the word he really used. But then he calmed down and apologized. He took off his shirt, then his pants, and all the rest, while I just stood there watching, kind of numb. I don’t know why now, but I felt like if we’d gone that far, I owed him something. So I undressed and let him do it.”

“After he got mad and yelled at you? What a jerk! Him I mean, not you. Well, maybe you too, a little.”

“A lot.”

“Yeah. I wasn’t gonna say it, but you’re right. Honey, you didn’t owe him a thing except a boot out the door.”

“Lesson learned. It won’t happen again.” I thought about whether I should tell her the rest. It was the worst, most humiliating thing anyone had ever said to me, and I still woke up dreaming about it every now and then. I reached over and took Connie’s hand. “If I tell you something, will you promise never to tell anyone?”

She gave my hand a squeeze. “Of course.”

“After he got done, he climbed out of bed, put his clothes on, and left. Just before he closed the door, he said something I’ll never forget.”

“What?”

I turned my head to the side so I could whisper. “He said he felt like he just screwed a dead fish.”

“Oh man.” She squeezed my hand again and lay silent for a while. “You’ve got some real issues to work through, don’t you?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I’m in no hurry.”

The sound of tires crunching on gravel made me sit up and fix my hat. A cute little red car had just pulled up. I stood and might have teetered into the water if Connie hadn’t grabbed my arm to steady me. No more wine today, I thought.

Jerry and Curt hopped out, waved, and popped open the trunk. “Play time’s over,” Jerry shouted. “Time to get to work.”

They picked up a couple of massive cardboard boxes and hefted them to the cabin. We ran to get the door, and held it open while they squeezed inside. Britney was standing in front of a mirror she’d propped on the table against the wine box. She glanced at us over her shoulder and finished adjusting her bikini. “Hi,” she said, clearly not addressing Connie or me. “What’cha got there?”

Jerry put his hand on the flap of one of the boxes and announced, “Raw materials. For...” He opened the flap and pulled out a stack of photos. “Ta-Da! Yearbook Two, What They Don’t Want You To Know.” He put the photos back inside. “Catchy title, huh?”

Curt sat down and wiped his brow. “That’s why we’re late. Jerry told me he had all this stuff we didn’t use, so we stopped at his place and packed it up. We figure we can pick out the best of the best and make another yearbook. An unauthorized edition, of course. Featuring things like...” He reached into the other box and pulled out the photo on top.

“Aaahhh!” Connie put her hand over her mouth. “Jessica smoking a bong! I forgot about that one. We can’t put that in a yearbook, though.”

Jerry laughed. “Of course we can. We blur out enough of her face so nobody can tell for sure who it is. She’ll remember, though. And anyone else who was at the party. Listen, this is the real memories, right? Not the shit from football games and pictures of the sunset. When word gets out, we’ll sell a million copies, mostly to people who want to make sure there’s no incriminating pics of them in it. Like, say, the one Norm got of Andrea with her hand on Dave’s crotch at the Valentine’s day party. Besides, it’ll be a riot putting it together. What do you think?”

Curt walked over to a cooler and rummaged inside. “I think I need a beer, and then food. Somebody brought food, right? We got chips.”

That settled that. Jerry made a fire in the outside grill, Connie dug the steaks out of the coolers, I found tableware, Curt guzzled beer, and Britney alternated drinking swigs of wine and playing with the straps of her bikini, a satiny black thing that gave new meaning to the word minimalist. With the looks she and Curt were throwing at each other, I figured the yearbook crew would be down to three before long.

I started to help with the food prep, but Connie marched over to the grill with a plate of meat and took up her position next to Jerry. The two of them did the job like they’d cooked together for years. He threw a steak on the grill, she slobbered it with sauce, he flipped, she poked, he moved them about, and she organized the whole operation. Every now and then he glanced my way, as if he felt guilty that I was sitting alone. There wasn’t much I could do to help, though. Connie was staking out her claim, and I had no intention of getting in her way.

Meanwhile, Britney and Curt lounged in Adirondack chairs we dug out of the storage shed. I didn’t have anything better to occupy my time, so I entertained myself by counting their drinks. Britney had downed a beer mug of wine before the guys arrived. That’s about three regular glasses. After we found little plastic cups on a shelf, they put aside the mugs. Britney had drunk four of them since we came in the house, making a total of seven, plus any she might have had while Connie and I were lying on the dock. She showed it, too. On her last trip to the wine box she’d wandered a crooked path. I hoped she didn’t throw up in the cabin. I resolved to keep close watch and be ready to haul her outdoors if she turned green.

(End of Part 1)

Sincerely,
David