Simon/Joy: Crossing the Line

When Teddy revealed to me the secret bet between four of the guys at work to see who could screw me first, I went through a bunch of emotions: hurt, offended, annoyed, before settling on flattered. It was especially flattering that Teddy was making a concerted effort not to pursue me, not just because Stretch was in the "lead" but because he didn't want any part of the actual bet - even though he and I had a better connection than Stretch and I ever did.

So my first act after a bit of contemplation was to text Teddy and ask if he wanted to win a bet.

He was reluctant. Ever the gentleman, I've got to give him that. After a few weeks of hinting that I was eager to throw down with him, he still protested: why did there have to be a winner, he asked? And the answer was, because I wanted there to be one. Not only did I not want them to keep secretly plotting to get in my panties (to win a cool grand) but I also happened to want Teddy in said panties. I caught a bad case of thirst for him.

At first I thought I was too good to chase anyone - after all, at any random bar I walk into I can have my pick of dudes. But the results I was getting were starting to feel very bland, interchangeable and meh. As I've already said, anonymous guys don't really care to put much effort in. So while I was enjoying myself, I was really plateauing when I should be finding new peaks.

A rule that I have more important than "Don't chase" is "Always get what you want." I set my sights on Teddy and I was going to have him Even if just once (and something told me if I could get him once he would be mine as long as I wanted him.) So I formulated an ingenious plan. Step one: Invite myself over to his place under the pretext of work. Step two: Have a few drinks. Step three: Well, that's pretty much all I thought I would need.

So the next week, I found myself at his house, and we were going over some arcane real estate bylaws over a bottle of Merlot that I brought when my hand innocently grazed his. Our eyes met with that tempting flicker that I knew would cause him to wonder if it meant something.

I worked my body language. Pointed my knees toward him, Played with my hair. Put a sweet singsong in my voice. "You know... I really love your place. I'd like to see more of it." Hint, the bedroom.

He played dumb, going on about the square footage and the maintenance. I encountered a new problem... I've never had to work for it with a guy before. How do I go from playful flirtation to bumping uglies if he won't play ball? The wine wasn't working. I briefly considered just stripping down to my bra and panties to see how he'd react, but it's better to play the game. I made sure to touch his knee three times as we conversed.

Finally, he called me out on it. "Joy, I've told you before... I can't."

I pouted, "You don't find me attractive?"

"I... you're very attractive. But the bet... It taints the whole thing."

"Well, if that's the case," I said, fiddling with the buttons on my top, "Nobody needs to know."

"What are you suggesting?"

"A private fling," I said. "Our little secret. No bet. Just two adults having a good time."

His face went stony. "You... really want this?"

"More than I've ever wanted anything," I said, as sultry as I could.

He still seemed iffy. "There's just something about you... you seem to know exactly what a guy wants a woman to be."

I smirked, "Is that a problem?"

I guided his hand to my thigh. I felt the thrill of victory closing in as we neared the endgame.

"Not at all, I just... I've never had a woman throw herself at me this way. I can't believe it."

"Believe it," I said, leaning in to kiss him, caressing the stiffening rod between his legs over his slacks.

Before we knew it, I was on top of him, he was pawing at me, trying to get my bra unfastened. I moaned in pleasure as he teased my nipples with his tongue, as I knew all along he was fantasizing about doing. Our hot breath on each other's tongues, his fingers finding their way into my private crevices. I goaded him on with moans of pleasure, finding the more I played it up, the bolder he would get.


By the end of the night we had done it three times, and I had climaxed multiples of that.


The next day, he asked me out to lunch. I didn't see any reason to discuss what we had done, except to confirm that we would both want to do it again, preferably on a regular basis.


It turned out that wasn't the case.


"So, that can't happen again," he said with a stony face.


My eyes bulged out. "Uh, did you not have fun? Because it seemed like you enjoyed yourself."


He sighed. "I'm just not the casual type. I'm past that, I want something more real. If you want to try having a relationship, that's something we could consider, but... I feel like that was why you didn't keep going out with Stretch, so unless you feel differently for me..."


I rolled my eyes, "Sorry, I don't."


"I didn't think so."


Where was all this coming from? Isn't he supposed to be a guy? I thought he'd be thrilled at the prospect of no-strings-attached sex with a chick who looks like I do.


Whatever, I thought. I don't need this. I'm gonna be a guy again in a few months and this will all be behind me. I should probably cut myself off from my crazy sex life now so I don't get addicted.


Once I got "over" Teddy basically dumping me, I had an epiphany. Shayla, my hot friend, is totally into the relationship thing. I thought she would like a sophisticated older guy like Teddy. So I introduced them and they hit it off, and now they're dating. Which is awesome, because they're both super hot. Teddy's been a little coy on the details but I think they've been sleeping together for a few weeks. I've got to admit, I'm pretty jealous... I had halfway thought that when I got my body back I could get the new Joy to "introduce" me to Shayla. But there's plenty of fish in the sea.

Simon/Joy: Can't stop won't stop

Life since Stretch and I cut things off has been... okay. I mean, looking at the big picture, things oughtta be grand. The weather's gorgeous, I'm making tons of cash. I'm still a chick for now, but I've definitely learned to live with it a long time ago and never let that keep me from thriving.


It's a little lonely though. My hookups have become less frequent. Part of that is getting pickier, deciding what I like, saying "no" more when a loser approaches me at the bar. I had to stop seeing one guy because he really wanted to kiss a lot and I wasn't really into that. But I even found myself putting my best guys off when they texted, making excuses or just saying I wasn't in the mood. Eventually I got to the point where I had to wonder: did I really just turn down sex?


I guess there was a honeymoon period (so to speak) where all this sex was new and exciting and now none of these guys have really stepped up their game so it all feels repetitive and boring... I thought, it must be my body getting used to the feeling. How sad.


I was talking about this to Shayla about this, kind of rolling my eyes saying "How can people stand to be in relationships if the sex only takes this long to get bad?" and she basically spit out her drink in shock.


"I can't believe I'm hearing this from you!" she gasped, "You're like, Miss Relationship. I've never heard you act so obsessed with sex."


I sometimes forget that the person whose face I'm wearing did different things with it when she had it. "Well, uh, I've changed a bit. I'm trying to have more fun now."


I should note that I haven't hung out with Shayla much since the Holidays... I was "seeing" Stretch, I guess, so anytime I went out it was either with him, or by myself with the intention of getting picked up. And Shayla, I hate to admit it, is so much hotter than me that it's really hard to get a guy's attention when she's around. When I want to be invisible, I hang out with her.


"Of course you're sick of hook ups though," she laughed, "You want to be in a relationship. You want a guy to get to know your body, and care about your... you know, pleasure. If they don't have to do anything boyfriend-y, they're going to start taking you for granted."


That felt like a cold splash of water in the face. I was laughing to myself about how much fun it was to be "easy" and feel no shame about it I didn't realize that there's a downside to it anyway. I'd been trying to put my finger on why I'd been feeling lousy all month. I didn't realize that the problem might be with them, and not me. I just assumed that all these guys were doing their best to please me every time, but it dawned on me that they really weren't. They were only interested in being with me as long as it took them to ejaculate.


Still, I felt the need to debate the issue. "You can't tell me you'd rather have sex with the same guy for years than meet a new one every week," I huffed.


"Come on Joy, it's like you're forgetting everything you learned in college," Shayla scoffed.


I muttered, "It's been a while..." I guess that's when girls usually go through their trampy phase and come out looking for something more (ugh) "stable" or "deep."


She got this faraway look in her eyes, "I would love to be in a relationship right now... but the only guys I meet treat me like a piece of meat."


I'll admit that I still have a habit of staring at her tremendous breasts from time to time. It's weird knowing that, barring some crazy drunken lesbian experiment between us (fingers crossed, we've still got a few months) I'll never have a chance to get with her. But more than that, I miss having the biological urge to get with her. I just can't help staring because her body is like a work of art. I like the look of it, but I'm sad to say it doesn't turn me on exactly. (Okay, it does a little bit.)


But then I start to feel bad for thinking that way, because even though I still kinda like my newfound status of being objectified, she's had it her whole life and she's clearly a bit sick of it because it's getting in the way of what she wants.


Well, that's her problem if she can't appreciate a good thing. I'm only here for a little while longer so I intend to have my fun. I bet there's tons of chicks out there who would kill to look like Shayla. (And guys too, but they probably wouldn't realize how awesome it can be at first.)


I guess this is all a way of realizing I need to shake things up somehow, but it's not like I want something "relationshippy." In that way, my deal with Stretch was working for me because it was just casual enough to keep me interested, and then I didn't notice so much that my other hookups were bland. Some might say I was stringing him along, but it's still his fault for never making a move. And throwing a tantrum when he found out I was getting with other guys was also a big turnoff.


I don't know. It's a smarter play just to knock it off and stay on my own until it's time to get back to the Inn, but I look at myself in the mirror and think about how intoxicating it is to have a guy fawn over me, our hormones interplaying, hands on each other's bodies... and other parts... I can't quit that!


'Scuze me, I need to make a call...

Simon/Joy: Looking for a good time...

You're probably going to think I'm crazy for saying this, but right now, the biggest problem with my life isn't that I'm a chick. I think under the circumstances I'm making do pretty well with that. I've learned the ins and outs, I've gotten used to the quirks and qualities... and more than a few times a day I take am moment to look myself in the mirror and say "Damn, buddy, you're looking good!"


No, my real problem is... I'm bored!


Seriously. I never thought of myself as a workaholic, but looking at the facts... I've worked consistently since I was 18. I hardly ever take vacations. I don't do "time off" very well, it makes me restless. I just always need a project on the go. It's actually been a factor in some of my relationships ending, but not one I used to agree with.


When I got here, as Joy, I had a set of problems in front of me: I didn't know what was what as far as living life as a chick. I didn't know Joy's social circle. I didn't know San Diego. And of course, I didn't have a job. I had a set of tasks ahead of me, and now three months later I've made a lot of progress on them. I may not be a fashionista, but I can dress myself for any occasion. I am frequently seeing Joy's friends for drinks, to the point where I'm starting to see them as my friends too. And I have toured the city well enough to have a good sense of up and down in SD.


The lack of a job is driving me crazy, though. It's disheartening... I haven't gotten so much s a call back about my resume, except one or two personal rejections. There's not much I can do except keep applying, but the bank account is draining and I'm starting to expand my search beyond Real Estate groups (I was hoping to get into that racket but I can always keep applying while I work elsewhere.) It would be a total waste of my abilities to sell phones at the mall, though. I feel like I should include a photo on my resume - tacky, I know, but if people see this face, how could they resist??


So while I work on that, I'm focusing on the social aspect. Like I said, I'm getting really friendly with Shayla, Milena and Courtnee, among others. I am a total extrovert, outgoing person. I need to be active and meeting people, and sitting on my butt watching Netflix all night is not my idea of a good time seven days a week. Yeah, I know - if I meet people, they're going to be meeting "Joy," this pretty, available, dare I say charming and sexy blonde babe. And they think very differently about her than they would about me as Simon. I'm okay with that. Playing this part is my life now. It doesn't have to mean anything.


Having the girls around me as a kind of shield doesn't hurt. I know I'm not the hottest in the group (I could be second on a good night, but I can't top Shayla's body) and I use that as my defense. Guys notice the others first, and by the time they realize I might be the only single one in the group (depending on the night) they might be too drunk or worn out to make much of an effort. I get to mingle, then go home consequence-free.


That said... well, this is where it gets a bit tough to admit, but what the hell, we're all friends here right?


I miss sex.


Ooh, boy. That's a hell of a can of worms to open up, but it needs to be said. Just like I haven't been unemployed since I was 18, I haven't gone three months without at least one roll in the hay since I was 16. Believe me, if any girl held me up that long I had no trouble finding someone else who was willing.


It's not just the physical effects of sex that I miss. It's the pursuit, the drama, the chase, the game. My life is distinctly lacking in that glorious drama that comes with it. The messy stuff that makes life worth living. You can't tell me you disagree that sex and romance and dating, for all the drama and frustration it brings, is the best part of life, the reason to live. And I'm supposed to just sit it out for a year just because I lost my dick? It's not like I died!

I just sit around sometimes thinking... I could stand to be open-minded about it. I'm a chick. Would it be so wrong to find out what it's like to go out with a dude? I mean, from what I understand, a guy would treat a girl like Joy like a princess, and hey, that sounds pretty good to me. Free meals, drinks, gifts...


Am I ready to give up what I have to give up in exchange for that? I stand to gain a lot just by giving a little. What am I afraid of... liking it? That's so stupid!


Looking at my phone, I've already got one solid candidate. Joey... He amuses me, but probably not intentionally, because he's a bit of a cocky bro and fancies himself quite a player. I don't think of myself as interested in him, but I can't help but keep egging him on. And if he goes a day without texting me to see what's up, I feel a little neglected. That could be a sign, right? The problem is, it feels so easy it's almost cheap. Like "break glass in case of emergency." I don't know if I'm at that point yet, but I also feel guilty looking elsewhere. And it while it does seem like I could throw a rock in a crowd and find a better guy... maybe he's put in so much time he deserves a chance?


I mean, I'm climbing up the walls here, otherwise. Getting a job would totally take my mind off of it but that doesn't seem to be happening anytime soon!


Well... whatever I end up doing, nobody needs to know. We can keep it between you all and me. What happens in San Diego stays in San Diego.

Simon/Joy: Girl Talk

Dunno if anyone felt like I left a bit of a cliffhanger in my last post, but after that I had a few things to figure out for myself and I didn't want to check in again until I at least tried to deal with them. It also didn't help that a few days later I got a period so bad I didn't feel like doing anything at all. I cramped up so bad all I could do was lie in bed and moan about my cursed fate. Seriously, I really want to see the upsides of being magically transformed but that's a pretty massive bringdown, having a few days like that. I wonder, do women have pissing contests about who has the worst periods? They can't all be 100% supportive, right? you just know if men got em we'd constantly be one-upping each other. "Bro, I bled so much yesterday it was like frickin' Game of Thrones over here. Total Freddy Kreuger action here."

Also we wouldn't have to pay so much for tampons. Looking into one of those re-usable cups, but I dunno if I'm gonna be around long enough for it to matter...? Hmm. Seems like a practical solution, though.

Anyway, amidst the sexual confusion and the bloody mess that was my second-ever period, I decided the best way to find answers was to meet up one-on-one with Shayla. I felt like if I was ever going to find a test-case for whether I could still consider myself into girls, it would be this absolutely gorgeous creature.

I can't even over-emphasize her hotness. She is a few inches taller than me, with long dark hair, a whole Kardashian thing going on, honey-brown eyes and a golden complexion, and of course, that glorious rack and nice round ass. I Facebooked her the day after the party to see if she wanted to arrange an outing - like it was no big thing - and it took us over a week for her schedule to clear up enough.

Honestly, I've read enough of this blog to know that I was against the wall here. Guys become women and succumb all the time to their hetero lady desires for men. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but if there's any part of Joy that could be into girls... I would like to find it. Even if most of her is into guys. I can deal with that later.

So she told me she'd like to meet at her favourite lunch spot. I told her I needed a reminder where that was, and she already seemed to think I had gone cuckoo, but complied. It wasn't that far of a walk, and it was a nice day, so I set out on foot...

Big mistake. In my eagerness to look like a bombshell for Shayla, I had worn strappy three-inch stilettos that looked real fancy, but chafed at all the straps, pinched my toes into blisters and hurt my ankles to walk in. I was exhausted by time we sat down, sweating my make-up off. My back was also achy from lugging too much stuff around in my perch, whose fell right between my breasts and bounced and rubbed against them. My hair was pulled back in a clip, messily. I felt like a mess already. Not an ideal impression. She arrived after me by car, looking gorgeous, in a tight black dress with her cleavage on display. And I immediately got excited: was this for me?

I'm not stupid enough to think that Shayla secretly harbors feelings for Joy. She has a boyfriend she's obviously very into - watching them at the BBQ really made me want to gag - but I thought at this point maybe I could get some privileges. Say we go to the gym and shower together, or try on outfits for one another. Just while I figure out exactly which side of the equation I want to fall on.

But I soon found out it really wasn't anything to get excited about, despite the view. We sat down to eat and she yammered on and on about all the stuff she had been up to in the past year: trips she and her guy had been on, her job, her catty co-workers, and people Joy is supposed to know. I found myself glancing over at her breasts hopping to feel that ping of excitement a man gets, but the experience was tainted - which I should have expected. If I was losing interest while I had her in a bikini, why would it hold my attention in everyday clothes (albeit ones that were sexy in their own way.) My impulses felt like they were traffic jammed. I felt so neutered and detached from that male feeling. I wanted to urge my body to have a reaction but I couldn't.

I found a few thoughts flickering in my head. One: I felt way less attractive than I normally do. I felt invisible to the waiter, even though I, too, was done up as best I could be. I felt I had a lot yet to learn about style and fashion, if I wanted to become a superwoman of Shayla's stripe. I felt like, as a mere Pharma Rep, she was underselling herself, that with a body like that, if she applied herself, she cold make any man do anything. Suddenly I felt it unfair that I hadn't ended up as Shayla - with wicked curves and big bouncy tits. I'm just slender, petite, pretty-in-her-on-way Joy. What I could do with that bod.

To top it all off, I felt annoyed at every mention of her boyfriend. I felt like I - as Simon - was as good a man or better, but never landed a chick as hot as her. Sure my looks were not in her league, but I had plenty in the bank, and great prospects. I would'a treated her right, and now I didn't even feel that interested.

Everything felt gray and cold. Like, I've defined my life for so long by the pursuit of success in business and with women, and now I was basically disqualified from the latter and feeling like I was going to have to work harder - not less - at the former.

Then something weird happened. Shayla noticed I was seeming a bit down and asked "Honey, what's wrong?" I whipped up some story about feeling insecure about the future, not mentioning my looks or hers, and she leaned over the table and gave me a big hug and said she was sure I was gonna be fine, and suggested we treat ourselves to mani-pedis. I almost didn't, thinking That's too girly, but I wondered if I could call anything "too girly" these days. It would be a new experience.

While we sat and had Korean ladies painting our fingers and toes, Shayla admitted she noticed something seemed off about me - I didn't seem to have the zest I usually did, based on my behavior and how I was not putting as much effort into my look, and told me if I ever wanted to open up about what happened, she would be there for me. I felt both warmed, and actually a little judged... I was dong my best, and somehow it's not enough? If only Shayla knew I was new to all this!

I got home later than planned and found Treena on the couch watching Netflix. She asked how it had been and I told her it was mixed reviews. I didn't get the results I wanted... in fact, I'm very soured on dating girls overall. Does this mean I'm "into" guys? No. Not actively, I'll tell you that. I think it will take a lot of convincing to give up that particular aspect of my man card.

Besides, I'm real busy these days. I'm going to start applying for jobs soon, and I've still got to spend my days in contemplation of lacy thong underwear, A-line skirts and 3" heels, determining exactly what kind of Joy I am.

Treena muttered something under her breath and left the room. I swear it's like she looks for reasons not to like me, and is trying to make me not like her either.

-S/J

Simon/Joy: Fireworks

So, as I alluded in my last post, I was invited (or should I say, Joy was invited) to a Fourth of July BBQ with a bunch of her old friends. I had a few weeks' notice about this and my initial response was "of course not!" I couldn't ready to be out in the world, to be seen like this, to wear this woman's face around people she's known for years!

But in the time between, a few things happened. I was taking walks around the neighborhood just about every day, mostly for coffee (coffee places are a ripoff, of course, but it's a good excuse to get out of the house.) At first I was just throwing on whatever fit - yoga pants or leggings, a loose tank or tee. I would walk the three blocks, keep to myself, get my tall coffee and walk back a different route. Then after a few weeks I got bored of that, started putting together my OOTD (outfit of the day, of course) and walking to the coffee place six blocks away, walking a little taller, taking note of the eyes that looked up at me as I passed. You know, it's not just about looking good, it's about confidence. And I can't sell anything if my natural posture is slouched down, looking at my own feet, shuffling down the street. Nobody is going to see me or listen to anything I have to say. I need to walk tall, keep my head up and smile that knowing smirk at anyone who crosses my path. I have to work it, own it, be about it.

And how am I supposed to do any of that if I don't know who I really am?

So those people on the street were my test audience. And the baristas too, with every visit I would talk a bit more with them, as they would get used to seeing me, clearly excited to see me, feel they were building a connection. It means nothing on my end but if you can fake someone else into feeling it you know you've done it right.

Then came the Father's Day convo with Joy's parents, and while that was not the most comfortable I've ever felt, I e-mailed afterwards to feel out whether they sensed anything "off" about me, as subtly as I could. No issues on their end. I felt this strange relief. If I could fool this girl's parents into thinking I was her, I was in. Whatever I'm doing is working.

Then I did a bit of recon on who had replied yes to this party. I was particularly on the lookout for Joy's exes: Lucas, Steve, Marco and Ramon. No matter where they are in life there was always a possibility that seeing her might stir up some feelings and that was not something I wanted to deal with. Not that I'm opposed to checking in with any of them to let them know I'm/Joy is doing okay, but it has to be on my terms.

None of them would be coming. Then I scrolled through everyone who RSVP'd on Facebook. Many of those were in relationships, which is good because I was looking to meet people, not hook up. I also took notice several of the girls, Joy's closest friends: Shayla with the big boobs, Milena the black girl with the fuck-me eyes, Courtnee with the sexy smile. All sexy bitches. I know I'm a female right now so the odds of me sexually conquering any of these women is decreased, but I felt this strange stirring of emotions when I looked at each of their photos. Attraction? Appreciation for their looks? Wishing I still had my dick? It was like this happy-sad, bittersweet-excited-yearning feeling I couldn't put my finger on. As hot as these women were, and as much as I felt I wanted to meet them, there was something inside me tainting it.

The last piece of the puzzle, actually, was Treena. Treena and I have a frosty relationship, but I would say a positive one. I stay out of her way, and she stays out of mine, and while I've tried to make a few olive branch moves, she doesn't seem to have taken them well. But I had to ask: "Treena, would you come to this thing with me?"

She gave me that "You can't be serious" eyebrow and sighed, "I have a lot of work to do."

"Come on," I pleaded, pouring as much honey in my voice as possible, "I know it's probably not your scene, but I could really use the support. This is me facing my biggest challenge yet as Joy. And it's for them, you know... like you said, letting them know I'm alive and well."

She rolled her eyes. "I was just talking about posting some Instagrams, pfft. This is... Simon, this is serious. This other is people's lives you're about to enter. Impose yourself on. Feelings could get hurt."

"You think I'll hurt them? You're trying to protect them?"

"Them, you... everyone. It's probably for the best that you just live your own life and... don't worry about Joy's too much."

"I can't do that," I said, "I'll go crazy." I couldn't reveal just how badly I wanted to get a close-up look at Shayla's rack, too.

"You'll go with or without me, won't you?"

"Most likely."

"So have fun," she said, and turned back to her computer.

"Treena, I..." I sighed, "I consider you a friend. My only real friend right now. Please."

She rubbed her temples like she had a headache. Like I was a headache. "We're not friends, we're just stuck in a situation together. I'm helping you not to screw up Joy's life, until we find her and get her back where she belongs."

That actually hurt to hear a little bit, but I didn't let it show. "Don't you want to make friends with the person you're stuck with? It's better than being enemies." I reasoned, "If I go alone, I'll probably just screw her life up more, right? And I'm going to go. You coming would be the smart thing, and the nice thing."

She pursed her lips - it was actually quite cute. "Fine. I'll drive."

"Yes!" I pumped my fist. "Don't forget to bring a swimsuit and towel." Never underestimate the power of a hard sell.

She muttered something under her breath, probably sarcastic, and left.

I spent two hours getting ready - I tried doing my make-up in a serious way for the first time, and, well, it didn't come out right. Twice. So I went with a less-is-more look, figuring I would be in the pool so much that the effort wouldn't be worth it. I'm hoping to get my prep time down to under 20 minutes so that I don't become one of those cliché girls who spends hours in front of he vanity. For my outfit, it was a choice between a light yellow sundress and a lacy crop top with low-rise jean shorts that are smaller than the boxers I wore s a man. I went with the shorts - less flashy but easier to get in and out of - with strappy flat sandals on my feet. Underneath I wore a tiny light blue bikini whose bottom clung tightly to my buttcheeks and a tube top that squished my teeny boobs pretty tight but wouldn't come off easy or let my nips slip. The benefits of a petite chest. It has a little window in the middle to reveal a hint of cleavage that I hoped would be a little mesmerizing, considering my assets aren't exactly bountiful.

We arrived around 8. It was nice and hot out, the sun was still shining but setting over the ocean. Lots of beautiful people were splashing in the pool while a small group of guys congregated by the grill. Treena said to me, in her quiet anti-social grumble, "Don't abandon me, okay?" I told her I'd try, but even so I decided to dive in and mingle. I saw Shayla and Courtnee sitting poolside with their legs dangling in the water. I decided to just yell out a friendly "What's up!!" to the general group and see who reacted. As I thought, they rushed over to hug me. "Joy girl!" Shayla cried as she pressed her body into mine (full frontal contact, nice!) "It's you!! Baby girl, we need to talk! Omigad, you look so gorgeous, stunning really, you haven't changed a bit!"

"Thanks!" I blushed. I am still not used to having people remark on my looks (most people I meet probably are thinking it but don't see fit to come right out and say so!) and even though they're not mine from birth exactly, I take a certain amount of pride in how I keep it up. "You look super sexy, like always!"

She smiled, "Oh, stop. You know how I feel about compliments." I don't, and still don't get what that remark meant, but she moved on. "Where have you been all winter? SD has been a bore without you!"

"Oh, here and there. Top secret missions..." - my cute way of saying "Can't tell you but I wish I could." I bristled at that remark about the city not being the same without me, it felt like a lot of pressure to be fun and outgoing, even if she was just being flattering. "What about you? How's the boyfriend?"

"Pfft," she scoffed, "The boys all went to the park to play some football and ignore us ladies. And the men are ignoring us by cooking our food. But that suits us fine! It's girl time and we need to talk."

"You remember my roommate Treena, right?" I remembered my promise not to abandon her. Not right off the bat anyway.

"Oh yes, vaguely," Courtnee said as she sized her up. Treena, stretched out in a cabana chair, gave a courtesy wave that basically said "I don't care about you." Courtnee concluded, "I didn't think she would be interested in hanging out with us..."

They continued to ply me for information but I continued to play coy and say that what I had been up to was really not that interesting. My claim was that I was doing property management for this firm that has a big government contract and that I had to sign a non-disclosure agreement. Never mind that that sort of work isn't really under the purview of Joy's actual job as a realtor, it makes me sound really interesting.

They probed for the really juicy stuff: How long have I been back in town, am I seeing anyone, have I talked to you-know-who? I do know who they meant (Lucas, who Joy was dating when she "disappeared") but I told them I hadn't had time to hit him up. In reality I am not interested in deliberately stirring up any drama with Joy's exes. I assume it might come up by and by but it's definitely not my goal.

"He was so crushed by the way you ended things..." Shayla said, "But we stuck up for you, babe."

"Aw, thanks!" I said and took the chance to hug her again. The thanks wasn't really for me, but I'm sure Joy would appreciate the gesture. I also have a feeling it hurt her very much to have to end a seemingly healthy relationship abruptly.

I left my bag by Treena and slipped out of my outerwear. Shayla, Courtnee and I frolicked in the pool with the other five or six girls, and I was sure to keep splashing near Shayla... I know she wasn't going to read anything into it but friendly horseplay, but it was how I felt like acting around her: goofy, charming, flirty. I just felt drawn to her. Maybe it was some residual friendship baked into Joy's DNA or a sisterhood bond that all women feel. Or maybe, like I said, she had huge tits and I wanted to be near them.

Then before long, the boys came back and started wrecking things. They mobbed the pool, diving and cannonballing in en mass and throwing anybody who wasn't already in, in. Milena was with them, which made her the only girl in the crew of sweaty, active guys. That made me feel... strange to see. They must have been fawning over her during the whole game. The way they acted around her, even though she wasn't  the very hottest girl at the party, showed a real connection. The single ones were all vying for her attention. Shayla had her boyfriend, and Courtnee seemed to bounce between a few different guys.

It was then that I started to feel  strange pang of jealousy. Jealous of the guys for having the chance to get with these girls. Bitter at the girls for not seeing me among them. Annoyed with the whole situation because I didn't feel like I stood out anymore, that even though the energy was more sexual than I would have known what to do with, they didn't have to do anything to get attention and I was stuck feeling like a wallflower. I told myself it was good just to observe but I wanted to be in the mix. I really thought Joy's return would make her/me a bigger deal than I was.

I could see Treena getting disenfranchised, too. The group was obviously more superficial than she would prefer, and probably lacking for stimulating conversation. I don't want you to get the idea that I don't think Treena is attractive but she was the only girl at the party that looked, well, like her. And me, I was something of an outcast beside her. we had a few drinks and I tried to use the time to bond with her, but she and I haven't really found any common ground yet... and I think she was still irritated that I had dragged her out.

I decided that if I wanted to make the most of this story, I would have to play a part. After all, here I was attracted by sexy young people - while looking like a sexy young person. I waited until I saw a guy - any guy - sitting unattached and I sat next to him. "So, what's your story?"

"Oh, I'm Joey," he said. He had some chin fuzz, a necklace, and I guess it's okay for me to say a decent build. No reason to be as embarrassed to have his shirt off as I used to be

"That's funny," I said, "My name's Joy. Joy, Joey, it's almost the same." Did I mention that I had had a few glasses of Sangria? And also that I have a theory that anything sounds charming and insightful coming out of a pretty girl. "Are you also in real estate?"

"No, I'm a lifeguard," he said, "I think we've met before at a party last year."

"Oh really?" I forced a giggle, "I feel bad for forgetting. Maybe this time I won't." I congratulated myself for acting like a total tease.

I got him wrapped nice and tightly around my finger. I didn't plan on doing anything with it, but I could feel myself being pushed in a certain direction by my body. It was different from my desire to be close to Shayla or my jealousy at seeing the boys treating the other girls well. I want to deny it but I can kind of see myself appreciating the look of a handsome guy at this point. And as much as my body might have a mind of its own, wanting me to do something about it, I also felt nauseous and nervous the longer it went.

Feeling awkward about how far it had gone, I ditched him and decided to injecting myself into other conversations. I still didn't feel included, mostly because I didn't have great context for anything or anybody being discussed, but I played along as best I could.

I guess my flirty act must have been successful because Joey ended up following me around throughout the night. He tried to get close to me, put his arms around me, beckon me away from the group, steal a kiss a few times. I let him have a few just to keep him interested, once I realized that turning away as soon as he got his lips near me was probably turning him off. If you let yourself go, it's pretty much the same as kissing a girl. But I think even in my drunk, confused state, I knew just where to draw the line. But the poor kid couldn't sense my disinterest so I just went along with it. Harmless, I think.

It's not really something I'm interested in pursuing at this point in time. But it's useful to know what it feels like so I can watch out for it in the future. But it's nice to be desired, fawned over, pursued.

Once the night chill set in, we moved to the hot tub, others got dried off and went inside. I was personally pretty satisfied with my experience and told Treena we could go if she wanted to. She was all too happy to, but something had put her in a huff. I felt bad if I was responsible, if she felt I had neglected her, but she knew I was there to mingle. So I didn't ask what her problem was and decided to enjoy my nice little buzz the whole ride home, as fireworks burst behind us over water.

I flopped into my cushy, cozy, Queen sized bed (does that mean I can think of myself as a Queen?) and drifted to sleep. But the story doesn't end there. I feel into a deep dream state but my mind was still active. I remember dreams that reflected what I had just been through, but like a funhouse mirror... twisted, with more hands, more touching, warming my whole body. I felt this sudden, deep, irresistible sensation growing inside me before I bolted awake.

I was in shock. I knew, before knowing exactly, just what had happened, but I didn't quite believe it. I felt down to my lower area and confirmed the gushing dampness. I thought maybe I had already gotten my period again, but no that wasn't it.

It was an orgasm. My first female orgasm. And it happened while I was asleep, totally vulnerable, unable to even control or guard myself. I had to Google "Female wet dream" to make sure it was even possible! (It is but rarely that intense apparently!) I felt a little robbed that it didn't even occur while I was fully conscious so I could experience the full scope of it. Just... wham, right? I wasn't even entirely sure what brought it on except my humming hormones being worked up into a frenzy by everyone at the pool. I couldn't even get back to sleep for hours. I felt equal parts embarrassed and excited, and even days later I'm still trying to get over the feeling. I kept wondering if I should pursue another one or leave well enough alone... by the time I decided to try again the moment seemed to have passed and I just exhausted myself getting nowhere.

Curious. But this is clearly just the beginning.