Vacation: Rawrbug

This is an erotic piece of fiction established in the real world.

*****

Houses in the sleepy neighborhood of Brookdale bathed in morning fog; Trees mingling with lofty cloudscapes hung overhead, extending past civilization to create a vexing tapestry of flora and fauna. Twilight lingered, dripping starlight onto riverbanks still blanketed in the chill of night. Insects skittered throughout dew-laden grass, instilled with an initiative long abandoned by most at the week’s climax. Soothing gradients crested over treetops, painting clarity for anyone weary eyed. With once muffled chirps now penetrating hours of solitude to create auditory splendor; the night was finally vanquished.

While many weren’t at all eager to finish the week’s remaining hours of servitude, one particular individual snuck himself in between the layers of sunlight and moonlight in pursuit of peace. With his shoes nearly falling apart, the twenty-seven year old soldiered onward to meet with his street’s entrance. Not one house in the entirety of Brookdale gave off a light, still in denial of responsibility. Zach’s presence wasn’t required anywhere today, so he couldn’t begrudge them for feeling pensive; after all, work was dissipated from his day in preparation for a vacation. A three-day vacation but an escape from the mundane goings on that reality offered him for the better part of his twenties.

With nothing but an iPod in tow and heavy eyes, the sleep deprived youth meandered toward his house as though he was returning from war. Fortunately, in a couple of hours, his clamor for a change of scenery would present itself. Unfortunately, Alabama would maintain its grasp on him for just a while longer as he trudged home with the melancholy realization that his father would gravitate into his cone of vision for at least a few seconds. The three-second malaise of trudging past alcohol-fueled insults, though brief, dominated every other negative aspect of most days in Zach’s life.

Anticipating an unwarranted tongue lashing, the volume was cranked up until his own thoughts were inaudible. With one swift motion, Zach pushed the front door open, spun around, and closed it without glancing at his dad even slightly. Noise blared over anything else within proximity, maintaining the illusion that nobody was home. Turning to dart toward the hall, this illusion was broken as his father sat slumped over on a messy couch peppered with cigarette burns. The slightest glance triggered an onslaught of incendiary threats, paramount to a caveman’s hunt being encroached upon.

His mass couldn’t be mistaken for muscle, even on rare occasions when Tommy chose to wear a shirt, it clamored to escape. Short unwashed hair as black as his lungs paralleled the glutton’s facial hair, though far more alcohol and snot happened to be layered into his hideously uneven mustache. As infrequently as Tommy chose to bathe, even less so did he brush his few remaining teeth. Nary a moment passed when he wasn’t sat at home increasing the size of the dent created on his couch long ago. This picture had been burned into Zach’s brain as a representation of what he didn’t want to become.

A powerful thud could be felt resonating throughout the house as Zach’s bedroom door was shut behind him. A black suitcase drowned in a sea of discarded clothes and damp towels. Various other objects were scattered throughout the room in the form of water bottles and cables of various size and shape. Zach walked an hour to work and back, eroding any effort potentially aimed at cleaning up whenever some free time came out of hiding. Taking a moment to assess the situation, the road weary traveler collapsed on his bed and reveled in the solace of relaxing in Portland for the weekend.

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In a suspiciously conniving effort expended by a wave of toddlers, Zach’s initial plan of sleeping for the duration of his flight wasn’t successful. Accompanying this common nuisance was a more updated version in the form of inconsiderate adults tapping away at unnecessarily loud mobile games. Obnoxious though it was, the possibility that they were unknowingly racking up charges through microtransactions somewhat put the dreary-eyed vacationer at ease. Unfortunately, this was intercepted by the fact that the hours of audible abuse encountered here deterred even the slightest possibility of achieving a refreshed composure. Filled to the brim with regret, Zach opted to combat one questionable motive with another and loaded up on caffeine, occasionally making death laced eye contact with certain passengers that were seemingly transplanted from the ninth circle of hell.

Boundless energy clashed with grogginess as Flight 541 completed its journey. A welcoming breeze painted itself against Zach’s beanie, barely making an impact as the overly caffeinated adult stormed out of Portland International Airport. A mixture of mental degradation and hyperactivity affected his ability to access the Uber app, though he eventually figured it out, his discourse with the unlucky driver was paramount to sidling along a steep mountainside whilst carrying a belligerent goat in tow. The fish out of water hadn’t a propensity for forced conversation, not at all valuing whatever score his chauffeur was concocting for the duration of their short trip. Attention was more-so fixated on the urban layout of high rise buildings, spewing out of them crowds Zach hadn’t witnessed in the rural tapestries of Southern Alabama.

At the mouth of the Hotel Marriot stood Zach, rummaging through various pockets in search of his phone to assist with checking in. As loose change spilled onto Portland’s streets, a litany of hotel patrons swept by. A great deal of them were outfitted in garb representative of video games, comic books, and even wrestling; giving the impression that they had flown in for Wizard World as well. Worriment was plastered across the face of several hotel employees, parallel to Simba anticipating the stampede. Suitcases banged against buckling knees, causing the sleep deprived to merge with concrete as though they were taking their hobbies a bit too seriously by trying to meld with stone.

Puzzled and in many ways impressed by how quickly this escalated into the train wreck laid out before him, Zach shambled over body parts, nearly getting tripped up as though souls in the River Styx were trying to escape. The rebel of Brookdale felt a sense of accomplishment after having experienced the juxtaposition of sidestep clamor outside to now being enveloped by an overwhelming rush of relaxation inside. Certain circles preparing an excursion to Wizard World congregated at various points throughout the lobby. The less awkward individuals amidst the hysteria could be heard voicing their excitement in barely distinguishable patches as Zach cruised toward his room. Eyeing many of the female figures that darted past him, the libertine viciously rubbed his eyes, now treating said women as inspiration for barreling through the rest of the day instead of passing out where he stood.

Illuminated fixtures showered his weariness in nagging fluorescence, eyes which were normally devoid of color carried with them a faint brown glow. Cold water splashed so vigorously against Zach’s pale complexion that for a moment his skin gave way to bare bone. Tufts of dark brown hair swam in this very same chill, now stuck firmly against the spacious billboard of epidermis that was his forehead. Brushing back his bangs to sit firmly underneath his beanie, Zach let out an exasperated sigh, as though he would shortly be contending against a behemoth to gain entry into heaven. Further plying his exhausted state, a quick slap plastered a relic of red across his cheek; the young adult carried an intense fervor which drove him to enjoy his first ever expenditure out of the bible belt, even if this was heavily impacted by younger sleep siphoning souls.

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Countless stalls, kiosks, and booths were nestled closely together creating a perimeter for hordes of fanatics to peruse. Celebrities were treated with sycophantic splendor, hearing marriage proposals stacked on mounds of autograph requests. Sandwiched in between these groups were a cacophony of cosplayers-some more scantily clad than others. Appeasing both themselves and others, many parroted the very characters they were portraying; some with catch phrases, others with elaborate performances. A fair few were mercurial in their approach, slipping into the skin of a different character for each day of the convention.

Select cosplayers carried with them sizeable followings, their presence was nary unheard of or unnoticed at most public events. Though Zach had rarely interfaced with this portal into the glitz and glamor of everyday Halloween enthusiasts, the sight of crowds surrounding such individuals as Jessica Nigri and Yaya Han alerted him to such. Should he have wanted any of their merchandise, the wait for either would have whittled down what little time Zach planned on staying for the day into essentially nothing due to the initial stages of his ongoing caffeine crash. Traipsing through the jungles of body spray and snapback hats carried with it a stormcloud of coughing fits and pretentious conversation – though a surprisingly scarce visual of Monster shirts. Devaluing the entirety of Wizard World based on the past few minutes, Zach tore himself away from surroundings at a quicker pace; however, the faster he moved, the tighter the spaces around him became.

While not claustrophobic, Zach found it progressively harder to breathe the further he walked. This labyrinth of warm bodies budged only slightly upon contact, not at all willing to give up their respective positions. Any slight resistance was met with scoffing, swearing, and or disgusted glances. Unwilling to assimilate, Zach initiated a bumrush in the least populated direction visible from his distorted perspective. A shoving match ensued shortly thereafter, eventually dissipating the sea of body spray into such thin numbers that the only person standing in between Zach and an unfortunate date with the floor was an unlucky cosplayer.

Shock circulated throughout every fiber of this raven haired beauty. Her eyes, golden in their radiance, displayed a sobering inability to assess what was transpiring. Outfitted in a rather revealing top with her midsection and a sizeable amount of cleavage on display, the shaken cosplayer already felt vulnerable without the visual of a stranger thundering toward her. She hadn’t much time to react to the situation beyond slightly angling herself away from him. However, the distressed damsel absorbed the entirety of Zach’s person as he crashed into her, his face buried deep in the middle of her now exposed breasts.

Onlookers were torn between laughing and gasping; phones materialized into existence out of nowhere, fixated on the collision that answered every nearby pervert’s prayers. As though the horrors of Pandora’s Box had just been revealed to the world, the cosplayer tucked firmly underneath Zach used all of her strength to push him away. He understood her embarrassment, sharing a large portion of it himself, so as he assisted her feat of strength, Zach then stood up and extended his hand down to her.

“Mmmm relly sorr, are ya ok?” Zach inquired, his delivery paramount to an insomniac on a strict energy drink diet. Beads of sweat rolled down his face, his words carrying with them a weight he rarely felt. The flustered soul reached out almost reflexively, yet he now simmered in distress to the near-point of walking away and pretending as though this never happened. This pollution of guilt and dread reverberated throughout Zach’s entire being, visible by the shaken state of his arm still laid out before him. The crowd gathered around this awkward stage play did their part in perpetuating a sense of discomfort in either party, all the while jeering and cat calling – some even suggesting that Zach’s badge be confiscated.

Time stood still as they gazed upon one another, mouths agape, struggling to find words or even actions to resolve this catastrophe. Their eyes served as mirrors for those nearby to further examine the despair and tension each individual shared. Loathsome though this mob had become, a fraction of them grew sympathetic to Zach’s plight, misappropriating their initial derision while now beckoning the estranged cosplayer to grasp his hand. However, as though a spell had just been broken, she tore herself away from her assailant’s stare to quantify the sheer size of the crowd surrounding them. Rather than yielding the response Zach wanted, she stood up -her movements implying a severe sensation of anxiety.

“I..I have to go!” She exclaimed in a somewhat inaudible fashion before dispersing, parting the crowd as she jolted. In response, Zach’s expression melted into a somber daze-his arm now stretched out to meet with nothing. What was once jeering devolved into antagonistic laughing – the more heinous attendees mimicking him by holding their arms outward. The words to properly describe the situation weren’t coming to him, and should they have, he was in no state to act as their proxy. Using his other arm, he clasped his own hand and initiated a shaking motion, softening the once ruckus crowd and instilling within it a sense of comradery.

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The first day of Wizard World was a blur – a hyperactive, painful, cleavage-filled blur. Though Zach was still reeling from having undressed someone by force, he was fortunate in that his sleep went uninterrupted. However, his guilt bled over into the second day with the lack of an appetite, burying any motivation for truly enjoying the day’s events. Two options lay before him: should he retreat to his hotel room, or try his best to locate the cosplayer he embarrassed? Letting out a huge sigh, Zach stepped into the convention center with the swagger of an inmate walking to their execution.

Some were dismissive, others alerted Zach to the pictures they took of the once-topless cosplayer – regardless, a large knot formed in his throat whenever he encountered either sort. Using his newfound popularity, he inquired as to the woman’s location – unfortunately, nobody appeared to have any leads. Supposed eyewitnesses that swore they shared the same hotel room claimed to have seen her leaving in the middle of the night, whereas others recanted dubious tales of sexual escapades involving themselves.

“Highly unlikely…and selfish.” Zach retorted. Common sense alerted him to the possibility that if she hadn’t left, she wouldn’t be dressed in the same outfit. Taking this into consideration, she would probably blend in, muddying Zach’s search even further. To counter this, he then thought perhaps viewing the convention from higher up would eventually bring her into view. Checking any relevant tweets for Wizard World on Twitter could also shed light on her whereabouts; with his newfound optimism, Zach marched toward the escalators.

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Two hours with no leads or information molded optimism into pessimism. Zach, with a wide grimace painted across his face, stood with his arms slung over a banister. The fleeting possibility of her having left Portland distorted his view on the remainder of the weekend, having never gotten the chance to explain himself. Frustration slowly built into a rage as Zach lifted his phone in the air, to then make a downward motion with the same arm.

“Son of a bitch!” Zach muttered under his breath. His arm banged against the top of the banister, though his anger instantly alleviated whatever pain he would have felt. To some degree, the furious twenty-seven-year-old felt insulted that such a person would deny him the opportunity to properly apologize. But he also understood that whether or not it was done with intent, he exposed a woman’s breasts to a busy convention floor. Unfortunately, Zach couldn’t tarry much longer debating the duality of what had transpired, as his attention was broken by a noise; a noise which revealed to him that his phone was no longer in his hand.

Further examining the ground below brought a shocking revelation to Zach’s already distraught state; his phone had not only fallen, but it appeared to be broken as well. His grimace grew wider, with any and all hope being washed away by the second. As though this wasn’t enough, his phone attracted attention, but not necessarily the attention he was seeking.

“Hey, yo! The dude that motorboated that chick yesterday! Hey, I think your phone’s broke, man!” A random voice could be heard shouting upward, attracting even more unwanted attention. Zach simply lay his head on the banister, vaguely waving one arm at the crowd gathering below.

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So far Wizard World paralleled that of a thunderstorm, layer upon layer of unfortunate circumstances ramped up to create one large, disastrous scenario. Had Zach been born in the middle ages, he would have been run out of town, but at the very least he would have gotten a bard song out of it. Given his bad luck streak, however, bard colleges everywhere would have embellished his infamy, eventually pegging him as a bestiality advocate. This melancholy disposition saw Zach sat on a bench, far removed from the goings on of the convention. The only company he kept was that of a drink machine, which refused to judge him or misconstrue his actions – instead, opting to provide the avatar of misfortune with a cold beverage.

Occasionally convention staff would wander over and inquire whether or not Zach was okay, which would result in a long, unwarranted diatribe concerning his second life as a court jester. This would have acted as an interesting concept were he cosplaying and not outfitted in a Zelda shirt, blue jeans, and haggard Converses but the latter caused the story to nosedive. With no phone to occupy his solitude and a fair few staffers confused by his state of mind, Zach regaled the nearby Coke machine with multiple stories – one which had nothing to do with him, rather, about how all Pixar movies are connected. With no feedback or even the ability to walk away, the lifeless machine endured said speech for a good hour, then another voice rang through the air; something familiar.

“You know that can’t talk back, right?” Upon hearing someone conflict with his one-sided discussion, Zach immediately tilted his head in that direction to see this voice belonged to the very cosplayer he was seeking.

“You’re…her, yeah? I mean, your hair’s different and your tits aren’t out but..” His choice of words evoked laughter on her part, implying she wasn’t entirely cross with his actions.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m Jessica, by the way.” Her hand reached out, complemented by a sly smirk. Zach reluctantly met his hand with her own, expecting to be slapped at some point – luckily, she did nothing of the sort.

“Oh, so you do know how to shake hands.” his voice elevated an octave as he spoke, exuding elation. Her mood matched his own as she sat next to him, dawning everyday clothing as he initially suspected.

“Zach.” He chortled, shifting his position to give her more room. Their smiles drifted away from one another to scan their surroundings, unsure of how to progress with the conversation.

“So…I really want to apologize..” His words somberly crawled into existence. Jessica cut him off.

“You already did, remember?” Zach playfully scoffed at her response.

“Well, properly apologize…and why did you run away?” His eyes locked with hers once more.

“I…was scared. I had never posed nude for multiple people before…and there I was, giving everyone a show.”

Jessica’s voice dampened, resurfacing memories she wouldn’t ever be able to hide. Zach picked up on this, chiming in as soon as possible.

“I understand. Hopefully, you didn’t think I was doing that on purpose, I was actually…” Zach’s tone became inferior.

“I know. Someone that was there filled me in on everything, they also told me you were going crazy – something about telling the staff you own a castle?” Zach rolled his eyes, flashing an embarrassing smile.

“No…I said, actually…it doesn’t matter. Regardless, I assume we’re cool?” His question lingered as he shrugged his shoulders, presenting a playful grin.

“Not quite.” She assessed, mocking his inflection. Zach raised an eyebrow in response, clamoring for any plausible reason why she would willingly seek him out if she was still upset.

“But if that’s the case, why did you…” Her voice interrupted his for the third time.

“I want revenge.” Jessica stated sharply. Zach studied her eyes, searching for a hint of sarcasm, but none could be found.

“What…kind of revenge?” His voice cracked, slightly intimidated by whatever she had in mind.

“I want you to walk around in the same outfit I had on yesterday.” With his mouth agape, Zach receded into the bench, sliding down until his beanie fell to the floor. Tufts of Dark Brown hair now covered his eyes, blinding his view of Jessica’s blindingly white grin. Slightly regaining his composure, Zach reached for his discarded beanie, then began dusting it off.

“And where exactly do I have to be when I wear it?” He asked, hoping with naivete that a simple picture would suffice.

Jessica’s legs crossed as she vaguely pointed further down the convention hall. “Right in the middle of the show floor.” The idea of parading through a crowd of unknown faces nettled Zach’s anxiety. As though she had confiscated his brief optimism, the crestfallen soul merely slouched back once more, lowered his beanie down until all vision was lost, then spoke.

“Yeah, sure…” Jessica laughed at his words, still ringing from the sounds of an anvil chorus.

“So, should we get started?” She inquired, preparing to stand. Zach, still taking refuge under the shelter of his beanie, awkwardly rose to follow Jessica’s lead.

“Beats talking to inanimate objects, I guess…” His voice trailed from despair as he began walking listlessly behind Jessica.

“Only slightly” She retorted, adjusting his beanie to reveal two brown eyes so dark her reflection was captured in them. Discarded from the convention chatter, they swam in silence, drenched in an aura the two now shared.

“So yeah, I have it in my room..we, uh…we can go there now.” Managing to tear herself away from this trance, Jessica strung enough words together to create a sentence, then rallied Zach in her direction.

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“It’s one thing to feel uncomfortable, but I don’t even know what character I am.” Zach pouted, staring himself down in the mirror like a disappointed father. Jessica stood behind him, adjusting the headpiece while fighting back laughter.

“It’s from Magic The Gathering.” The seamstress pointed out.

“Great, I know nothing about that. I’m a sham.” His dour demeanor encouraged Jessica to pat his head.

“Aww. Luckily, you’re just going out there to make me some money, sweetie.” She joked, stepping away to study the outfit. “Looks good. I mean, as good as it’s gonna get, anyway.” A venomous grimace was thrown her way, but as he nodded a tentative smile peered through his cynicism.

The last vestiges of daylight finally surrendered, awakening Portland’s nightlife. Many a passerby lobbed their attention toward Zach’s flesh exhibit, complete with catcalling and vicious laughter. Jessica was convinced their expedience would limit the number of eyes focused on their presence, however, the Uber driver’s dilatory state argued otherwise. Zach expected such a reaction, but Jessica’s inability to breathe properly slowly infected him as well. Their driver asserted himself by asking rather serious questions, which his clients considered to be out of place and further contributed to the overall absurdity of the situation.

Now stood at the entrance to Wizard World, Zach immediately crossed his arms to limit the public’s vision of his chest piece. Jessica caught glimpse of this and chimed in, rolling her eyes in the process.

“Dude, you don’t even have anything to hide.” Her voice now stricken with coarse strain from having laughed at the visual of Zach wearing a skirt.

“It just feels weird…” He blared, while adjusting his boxers underneath the purple folds of her outfit.

“I’m surprised you have purple boxers to match. That’s…too perfect.” She bawdily pushed the regretful crossdresser into the venue as she spoke, being met with a great deal of resistance.

“The faster you walk through the show floor, the faster you can take that off.” She serenaded him with hope, patting him on his exposed, neon-white shoulders. Feeling the warmth from her touch, Zach’s embarrassment vanished for a moment, casting a shadow on nearby pedestrians. While partially alleviated from mortification, he made a beeline toward the middle of the convention. In his mind’s eye, Zach pictured a runway wherein he was to be featured as a glamor model while Jessica looked on with a smile from a distance. Onlookers drank in this performance, amongst them were select Malfoy cosplayers wishing they possessed such swagger.

Though a smile was written across Jessica’s face, the longer Zach carried on, the more crooked it became. Her quest for vengeance didn’t yield the treasure hoard she had hoped for, watching her creation flaunt around Wizard World untouched by embarrassment. The urge to see Zach swimming in the same pool of misery she experienced felt overwhelming. Suddenly, a wicked idea bellowed throughout the caverns of Jessica’s mind, one so vile it sketched upon her an evil smirk. Once the distance between herself and Zach was closed, she ramped up the festivities by yanking down the unknowing jester’s boxers.

Videos were now being shot for a different reason, though many people dispersed as soon as Zach’s penis debuted. Children’s eyes were shielded, but their ears were left open to a cacophony of screams blended with uncontrollable laughter. Out of everyone laughing, none cackled as loud as Jessica. His skivvies now raised once more, he turned to meet with his aggressor, awestruck by her actions. Zach could barely form words, rather, only mustering to speak in barely audible onomatopoeia.

Unfortunately, before Jessica could react, she caught sight of two security guards making their way toward her. Shortsighted though her actions were, judging by the lack of their presence the day prior, she assumed security at the convention was rather scarce. The faster of the two had his arm extended, demanding that she hand over her badge, further emphasizing his point by shouting. Jessica broke out in a cold sweat as she nervously reached into her pocket to retrieve her badge, but this was curtailed by a warm touch which resonated throughout her body. Zach gently held onto her arm, derailing the scene to initiate his own; his eyes were locked onto both guards as he stepped forward.

Jessica couldn’t quite make out either party’s chatter, but she felt locked in place. A small part of her felt like running, or sneaking away, but she ultimately decided against it. Time slowed to a screeching halt during their deliberation, though this at least caused the crowd around them to thin even further. But she could only take so much enjoyment from this upon seeing Zach relinquish his badge, her eyes widened as though she had seen a ghost. Once the two guards exited, she rushed over confused by what had just transpired.

“What did you say?!” Her eyes were still as wide as before. Zach gave a cheesy smile but was rather poor at hiding anguish.

“I told them it was my idea, and that I put you up to it for a Youtube video. With everyone around us holding their phones out, it seemed like a good idea at the time…” His voice sounded more frail by the second. Accompanying Zach’s gloom, Jessica sounded off once more.

“So…they took your badge in place of mine? That doesn’t make any sense…” A hint of laughter was dashed onto her last statement, drawing a more sincere smile out of Zach.

“I know, right?” Zach chortled. “That’s probably in a shitty romantic comedy, yeah?” His eyes locked with hers once more, as if to imply he didn’t care for the answer, rather, he just wanted to hear her speak.

“Heh…yeah, but…why did you do that? Especially for someone you just met..” She cautiously inquired.

“I started all this by being an impatient little shit. Didn’t seem right to take away your trip because of that.” He sent his gaze elsewhere mid-sentence, eventually landing once more on her eyes. “Also, I look much too good in this to not be in a night club.” Zach joked, sticking one of his legs out with his lips puckered.

“You’re more fit for a street corner, but seriously, what are you gonna do now?” Her tone slowly shifted to something more funereal.

“It’s pretty late, so I’ll probably just get some sleep. May sleep in tomorrow since my flight doesn’t leave until later in the day.” Zach stated as though he was buried in deep thought, now gazing elsewhere once more.

“You should probably change first. I think you’re getting too comfortable in that.” Zach eyed himself up and down, then nodded in agreement.

“I need to be saved from myself.”

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On their way back to Jessica’s hotel room, Zach had fended off a few odd looks, several unwarranted comments, and one date request. While it was flattering to have gotten that much attention, he was happy to finally be in something that protected against the odd breeze now and again. A sigh of relief was heard from within the bathroom when Zach was finished, so loud Jessica’s head tilted up from her phone. She was sat on the bed, scrolling through Twitter for pictures of the less than reputable events she experienced, fortunately, she hadn’t come across any yet. An abrupt clanking sound signified the bathroom door opening, revealing a much happier Zach behind it.

“Pants..” He exhaled, finally warm again. Amused, Jessica smiled back and rested her phone on the nightstand to stand up.

“Now you know how cosplayers feel.” Stilted laughter filled the room; their body language mirrored that of a child with stage fright, complete with the inability to refrain from fidgeting. The deviation in scope created a setting far more intimate than the two experienced before with eye contact being broken constantly. An overwhelming sense of calm lowered itself onto the hotel, catering to the solitude they shared.

“Oh, um…I never thanked you for what you did.” Jessica broke the silence, briefly lending a glance to his person only to tear it away seconds later.

“Oh yeah, no problem.” Zach caught sight of the lone bed every few seconds when he didn’t drift over to the cosplayer’s figure. Realizing the correlation between the two, he then shook his head while waving both hands in protest. “Oh god, I…uh, I wasn’t trying to imply that we should…”Jessica playfully chuckled in response.

“It’s fine.” She stated softly, peering at the bed just as he did.

“I mean, I’m not saying I wouldn’t want to, either…or that nobody else would want to, cuz you look…” Zach’s cycle of maladroitness was once again interrupted, but he was too busy to realize Jessica was moving in to kiss him. He flinched slightly, assuming she was trying to move past him. “Oh, I thought you were…” She then playfully pushed him against a nearby wall, unaware of his now confounded expression. Ensuring he couldn’t talk any further, she firmly kissed him on the lips. While her eyes closed, Zach maintained a bewildered expression with his eyes wide open, unable to comment on what was ensuing.

Jessica was now stood in place with her body tightly pressed against his, as though the two were trying to fuse. Zach could hardly collect enough thoughts to generate movement or reciprocation for Jessica’s, rather, he simply rested in place dumbfounded. Her lips lingered for just a bit longer, then slowly pulled back with her arms still rested on his shoulders. Words remained absent between the two as they studied each other’s reactions, Zach then began blinking once more, showing signs of life.

“So…am I supposed to throw you on the bed now, or…” Jessica’s mouth hung open, clamoring for what to say in response while shaking her head at Zach’s inability to progress with the situation.

“Just…” She cut herself off from becoming expository and lunged forward once more, this time with far more urgency. Zach knew better than to ask another question, so he decided to go with the flow by leaning down, placing his hands on Jessica’s thighs, and lifting her off her feet. Caught off guard, she only responded by squealing as her lothario marched toward the lone hotel bed. She was daintily placed on the white sheets, taking no time to rest her head, instead, pecking away at Zach’s neck. The urge to immediately undress her felt overwhelming, staring at her wide-eyed to gauge her reaction with his hands hovering over her shirt; Jessica beat him to the punch by lifting her shirt up, then tossing it on top of Zach’s head.

Viciously yanking the shirt off, Zach snatched his own away in time to notice Jessica exposed her ample breasts, prompting an even wider smile on his part.The twenty-seven-year-old was incapable of bottling his glee as he sandwiched his face in between her breasts. She couldn’t help but laugh while Zach alternated been massaging one and vigorously tongue-lashing the other. Jessica compressed herself deeper into the bed, as though her soul was trying to escape, further evidenced by the dulcet tones she let fly.

“Aha! Mmm…reunited, huh?” Narrowing her eyes down to his vague position, the two shared a moment of reminiscence. Zach was caught off guard, jerking his head up to meet closely with hers. He began to speak, then noticed a swathe of drool built up around his mouth, eliciting laughter opposite him.

“Fine, I’ll take off your pants!” Zach declared, fumbling with buttons and fabric paramount to a dog deciphering a safe combination. This sexual energy clung to him like the remnants in a tube of toothpaste, increasingly frustrating the Southerner by the second. Valuing his sanity, Zach took a deep breath while he slowly slid her pants down toward him. Exhaling, he basked in victory until Jessica cleared her throat.

“You still have to do the…” Before she could finish, Zach raised his voice while tossing a snarky glance her way.

“Panties, I know!” The laughter this evoked from her gave off the impression that she was prodding for these kinds of responses at this point. This behavior was shrugged off, as Zach didn’t want his first time fueled by frustration, instead, serenity took hold and her underwear met with the floor. Maintaining his assertive position, he separated Jessica’s thighs to insert his head between them. Upon doing so, she clenched her legs together.

“You won’t die, I promise.” She joked. Zach’s ambition didn’t falter, with his tongue eagerly lapping away as though the intent was to drain her. The louder she became in response, the tighter Jessica clamped her thighs, slowly depriving Zach of oxygen.

“Fuck! Are…you used..to this..?” Her inquiry seemingly floated off into nothingness, unaddressed for what seemed like ages. Amidst his constant sloshing, Zach finally retorted.

“No, I just watch a lot of…” Before he could finish, his voice was cut off as Jessica began squeezing even tighter.

“Shut up and keep going!” She wailed as though she had gone feral, writhing on the brink of pleasure and pain. Making claws with her hands, Jessica scrunched the sheets she lay on until they started to tear from the bed. A modicum of worry burrowed into Zach’s mind due to how loud the noises originating from their room were; expecting a knock at their door, he decided to call an audible. Though it was difficult, his head found its way through Jessica’s vice grip with enough room to speak.

“Wanna fuck now?” His face was barely visible, but his message carried all the same. Exasperated, Jessica met this request with hushed excitement.

“Yes, hurry!” As she commanded him, Zach rose to attention with all the speed of a meerkat scouting for predators. Boxers met with the floor as quickly as they appeared, revealing a representation of his excitement. The slightest chill colored Zach’s perception of his current state, clouding the man’s mind and luring a glance.

“Oh, ok; it’s fine! I mean, it’s…nevermind.” Nervous but elated, Zach thought out loud but tarried no further, as he inseMusclesrted himself into Jessica.

“Wait, are you not wearing a condom?” Confusion coated her voice, prompting a mystified expression which Zach hadn’t seen yet.

“I mean, no…I didn’t think I’d…” His voice shrunk by the syllable, only to be cut off once more.

“Whatever, just let me know when you’re about to finish.” Jessica acknowledged, bluntly. Giving a soldier’s salute, Zach proceeded to enforce himself on her gently, with each thrust gradually gaining momentum. Beads of sweat began to build up on his brow with his desire to accelerate at a potentially harmful rate becoming feverish, but he couldn’t let his inexperience show. The fear of her mood tainting further, Zach lessened his grip on Jessica’s thighs and, instead, began massaging. Her warmth resonated with his ambition to pacify the woman he embarrassed earlier in the weekend, unable to forgive himself should anything go wrong.

Muscles were tightening and his willpower to continue was minimizing; as much as Jessica was panting, unable to formulate speech – the urge to climax drew near. Frustration mounted, slowly deteriorating any chance of prolonging this encounter. As Zach watched the few remaining specks of salt abseil into abject darkness; his eyes squinted then widened, as though the defeatist in him would dissipate revealing this cracked parallel as nothing more than the culmination of his fears fabricating this juncture to reveal that, in actuality, everything worked out.

“Oh God…y…you came!?” An erratic shriek snapped Zach out of the delusional space in which he dwelled for what seemed like ages but persisted for mere minutes. Alarmingly, Jessica shoved away from his lanky stature while engulfing herself in bedsheets. A wealth of noise traveling from her person was inaudible but would convey anger even to the deaf. The consequences of his actions rushed all at once, eliminating the faintest glimmer of hope. Unable to respond with even minuscule optimism, Zach shut down – nothing but black populated his view now, sound died out along with every other sense.

Thoughts weren’t traveling at this point; his conscience heavily sedated. But suddenly, semblances of motion not dissimilar to the rhythmic pulsations of one’s heart ebbed into existence. Not long after, the tiniest fleck of light flourished to the size and scale of a spotlight. The hotel room which previously housed Jessica, who may or may not have eventually resorted to murderous tendencies was now gone. The light which glared so brightly on Zach’s retina denied the visualization of what stood before him – but a definite presence could be felt.