Jen Goes on Spring Break

1. Introduction

My name is Jennifer. My two best friends are Nikki and Angel. “Let us go somewhere nice to celebrate Spring Break,” I say. “Good idea,” they agree.

So I borrow Angel’s white sombrero hat. We all make ourselves beautiful, using face paint. “I’m excited to find some attractive gentlemen,” says Nikki. “So are we,” Angel and I agree.

Discussing our taste in men while packing for our trip, we strike upon the following maxim: “A gentleman’s desirability is determined by the cut of his suit.” We drive a bus to our destination.

2. Hangin’ at the Beach

We arrive at the beach. We stand on the beach. All three of us are young and healthy. The gentlemen gaze upon us with interest.

“You’re dazzling,” says a certain man of business; “what’s your name?”

“My name is Jennifer,” I say; “and these are my two best friends, Angel and Nikki.” We all shake hands. Then I remove my white sombrero to show off my locks. I shake my golden curls in slow motion.

“Whoa, your hair is pretty,” remarks another man of business. “Is that a perm?”

I answer smiling: “My hair is naturally beautiful.”

All the gentlemen at the beach now pace around me slowly, admiring my figure. I note, as well, that the cut of their business suits is superb. This is good: We all like what we see.

3. Enjoying Snow Cones

After that session at the beach, I, Jennifer, the star of this show, begin to feel thirsty. I want something ice-cold and sweet. “How about a snow cone?” says my friend Angel, pointing to a kiosk. “Sounds great,” I say, licking my lips in anticipation. Then Nikki says: “You two wait here — I’ll fetch the refreshments.”

Thrice now Nikki dashes off, and she returns each time holding a paper cup filled with crushed ice.

“One is never too comely to bask at the beach in springtime,” I reflect while consuming my treat.

Ring-a-ding-ding! — Suddenly we hear the jingling of a bell.

“What was that?” say Nikki and Angel.

Now we see a gentleman approaching upon a bicycle that is towing a wheeled icebox. “Aha,” says Angel, “it’s the mobile ice-cream vendor.”

“Sir,” I address this gentleman, “we would like to order three more of these—” then I lift what remains of my snow cone and give a slight nod.

The man fulfills our order and also throws in, free of charge, one cherry popsicle.

After we finish our second snow cones, Angel and Nikki urge me to eat the bonus treat. So I enjoy the cherry popsicle using my lips and tongue in a manner that is playfully seductive. My two girlfriends keep giggling and saying “Ooh.”

4. A Raffle

“Hey, Angel, look at this sign,” I say, tapping my glossy red fingernail on the paper that is nailed to a telephone pole. “It says that a raffle is set to occur.”

“Where and when is this raffle taking place?” Angel asks.

“Why, right here on the beach, within the next few moments,” I say, pointing to a sentence on the sign. “Oh, I sure hope that I win!”

“What is the grand prize?” asks Nikki.

I point to the largest text on the sign: “The grand prize is one pair of businessmen wearing fine Italian suits.”

“Oh, I’d like to win those handsome businessmen,” says Nikki.

“Same here,” says Angel.

“I would like to seize fast to them,” I say, “and pass my hand over their bodies.”

So we three women each pay a coin and enter our names in the raffle.

Now the ceremony begins, and a name is drawn:

“Jen, you won! you won!” my best friends chant while hopping and clapping.

I hurry up onstage and say into the microphone: “Oh, I am so, so, so, so happy! Now I own this pair of businessmen. Too bad there’s not one more, to make a trio: for then I could share with my two girlfriends. As it is, I’ll have to keep both men for myself.” Then I laugh and wave to Nikki and Angel, who both laugh and wave back.

I immediately begin to admire the cut and fabric of the businessmen’s business suits.

5. Drinkin’ & Dancin’

When evening comes, we go to drink and dance at a club. I’m still wearing my white sombrero that I borrowed from Angel. The music is loud. We throw away all our cares and indulge in risky sensual predicaments. I, Jennifer, the main attraction, begin dancing with seven other ladies, and we start pushing the envelope about how close to get: What starts as a lighthearted, suggestive pantomime ends up as genuinely hot and heavy caressing, right there on the dance floor. From the corner of my eye, I notice the gentlemen in the finest suits are intrigued by our display. When the song ends, we all return to our tables to sip wine and smoke cigarettes.

6. Finding Spirituality

Spring Break is not only about uninhibited partying; it’s also for getting in touch with your spiritual side. So I say to my friend Angel:

“Let us visit the local shaman.”

“What for?” asks Angel.

“To neutralize our bad karma and pacify Brahma,” I explain.

“But we have not sinned at all during this vacation. And both of us, in our daily lives at home, have always maintained an upright existence.”

“That is true,” I say, “but, by cleansing what is already clean, I hope to preempt the possibility of future wrongdoing.”

“Good idea,” says Angel; “let’s go.”

§

So we seek, find, and gently wake up our friend Nikki, who was asleep at the bar, and then we all go visit the local shaman.

“Hello,” says the shaman, “how can I help you?”

“My name is Jennifer, and these are my two best friends, Angel and Nikki,” I say, gesturing to my companions while they genuflect. “We’re on Spring Break. We came here to see you, in hopes that you could enlighten us. To be precise: We’d like to know how many more handsome gentlemen we can expect to encounter during our vacation here. We favor well-dressed executives.”

The shaman answers: “Well I’m not exactly a fortune teller—”

“I already won a pair of businessmen in a raffle,” I interject; “I think they’re twins.”

So we get our blessing from the shaman. He teaches us how to pierce the veil of illusion so as to make menfolk manifest upon our life path. We then tip the shaman generously, and, right after walking out the front door of his studio, we espy a gentleman wearing an Italian suit.

Nikki nudges me: “That guy’s not looking at us, Jen — he’s looking at you.”

7. Meeting Some Executives

So I hit it off with this gentleman whom we met outside the shaman’s office. The two of us flirted innocently for a spell; and, when I introduced him to Nikki and Angel, he said: “Ms. Jen, do you think that your friends would care to meet my friends?”

So we followed him into a nearby skyscraper, and he led us to a whole team of executive officers, who he called “the pantheon of my successful corporation”. These gentlemen let us feel their muscles thru their suits, which were expertly tailored. Then someone opened up the mini-bar in the corner of the boardroom, and we all enjoyed cocktails. The rest of the day was spent in stimulating conversation about business and pleasure.

8. Catfight

For anyone who might be tuning in late to this story, let me reintroduce the main and supporting actresses. First, there’s me: Jennifer; I’m the focal point, the heroine. And these are my best friends, Angel and Nikki. Together, we form the Devil’s Triangle of semi-eligible ladies gallivanting the beach during the Spring Break season. Today, we descend upon Key West.

“Nikki, Angel, mind that gentleman over yonder,” I remark to my companions.

There is a handsome man in a fine Italian suit pacing leisurely near the shoreline.

“Ooh, good eye, Jen,” remarks Angel. “Yeah,” adds Nikki, “you always find the most alluring individuals.”

“Wait here,” I say, “I’ll go capture his attention.”

I approach the gentleman and whistle like a songbird. He looks up. Now that his eyes are upon me, I slide aside the material of my bikini top and briefly bare my bosom; then I cover back up and announce: “My name is Jennifer; what’s yourn?”

We shake hands and exchange contact info. I flirt with this gentleman for a great while. It turns out that he is a wealthy entrepreneur, living the American Dream.

At a certain point in our chat, when the mood is right, we embrace each other and ease down onto the sand, where we recline in each other’s arms while the ocean’s waves wash over us. However, just when we are about to remove our clothes and begin to fornicate in earnest, a trio of swimsuit models approaches from the west.

“What are you doing here on the shoreline with my boyfriend?” says the meanest of these models, who happens to look exactly like me, except she’s brunette instead of blonde.

Now my own friends, Nikki and Angel, who had been vicariously enjoying my conquest from a distance, leap up and jog over and pose menacingly before the other two models, while I myself get to my feet and stand right in front of their leader. I put up my dukes, and the brunette model takes a step towards me, very deliberately — it’s like a choreographed ballet — she then grips each of my wrists and moves her face so close to mine that our noses touch. For a moment, I wonder if this is going to turn into a super hot orgy, but the look on the model’s face is hateful and threatening. Nevertheless, I decide that it’s worth at least attempting détente, so I push my lips out and give my rival a smooch. For an instant, her eyes widen. Then she flies into a rage. An all-out catfight ensues: her trinity verses mine.

Angel is immediately knocked off her feet by Lili’s uppercut. Charlotte pounces upon and proceeds to pummel Nikki. I myself feel my hair being tugged at by the fist of Noémie. “Noémie, stop! Make love, not war!” I cry, while my forearm is bitten by the cute white teeth of my adversary.

Minced oaths are voiced with passion, as the six of us struggle in the sand. All our appendages are flailing madly. The air is filled with the sound of sweet moans and flesh-on-flesh slapping.

When the catfight concludes, the losers hang their heads in shame, and the victors stride away to rewrite history. A slow pan from east to west reveals a beach landscape that is riddled with bikini tops and bottoms.

9. What Our Boyfriends Did
While We Ladies Were Vacationing

During the span of time that I, Jennifer, and my two best friends, Nikki and Angel, spent touring the south­eastern U.S. during the Spring Break holidays, all of our boyfriends stayed at home in boring Minnesota. This final chapter of our report tells what they did.

These respective boyfriends of ours do not deserve to be identified more specifically, so I won’t give their names here. They’re good guys, but they’re not important enough to commemorate in a work of literature. All they did while we were partying was fall asleep on the sofa watching game shows and sporting events. They also tinkered around with their half-broken cars, and they played some video games. That’s it.

[Here ends “Jen Goes on Spring Break.”]