Lisa and Friend - Part 6

It’s mid-afternoon when Max finally awakens, fuzzy-headed and hungover from the night before. Face down and spread eagle across the bare mattress, all of the knotted-up and sticky linens having been kicked onto the floor, Max squints at the brilliant sunlight coming in from the room's balcony. The hound blinks, looking around the room. Everything stinks of sex and stale beer.

Was last night a dream? His recollection is rather hazy, but…did they actually party all night with Lisa and her friend? Max’s eyes try to focus on PJ’s camcorder, half askew on its tripod and pointed at the bed. Visions of last night's marathon foursome come flooding back to him… PJ and he spit roasting the blonde out on the balcony, dp-ing the redhead into a shivering heap, jacking onto the tanlined pair as they sixty-nine’d.

…and it was all caught on camera.

Max rolls off the bed and stumbles straight toward the bathroom. Over the toilet he confirms that last night wasn’t a product of his imagination…dancing around as his stream splits into two directions, the head of his manhood stopped up with dried come. A little persuasion and the floodgates open…

Max: Ohhh, thank the maker.

It’s at this point that Max recalls his conversation with PJ the previous day. Ignoring his friend’s know-it-all remarks about model agreements and contractual gobbledegook, he was dead set on getting…and, more importantly, selling…a ‘girls gone wild’ style video of the young woman as they frolicked around their hotel room. Now, however, he had the real goods…gorilla-style camera work, banging two honest-to-gawd coed hotties on spring break.

His Johnson still hanging in the breeze, and Max goes straight to the camcorder. Just as he reaches out to hit the power button and review some footage, he notices…

Max: Shit.

The camera’s video cassette door is open…and there’s nothing inside. Wide-eyed and frantic, the young hound looks around the room. On the nightstand is a cassette holder…empty. Another one on the TV stand…also empty. Max spots the camera bag on a beer can-strewn coffee table and makes a B-line for it.

Max: No, no, no. Please, no!

Dumping out its contents reveals a half dozen clear plastic holders…all empty.

Max: Fuuuuck!

Having slept on a deck chair out on the balcony and wearing only a pair of heart-covered boxer shorts…one hand holding his pounding head, the other clutching his sore privates…PJ growls at his panic-stricken friend as he stands in the glass doorway.

PJ: Could you pleeease stop with all the yelling? My head is fucking killing me.

Max: They… They took the tapes!

PJ’s eyes focus on the pile of empty video cassette holders littering the table as he enters the room.

PJ: Huh. I thought I dreamt that part. Umm…

PJ squints, having noticed something that Max had overlooked in his frantic haste. Sitting on the bar of the room's kitchenette is a disposable camera...the cheap kind you’d find on the table at a wedding reception…with a handwritten note beneath it. PJ meanders over, kicking the odd beer can out of his way. Picking up the note, he reads it aloud…

PJ: “Here’s something to remember us by. Kisses! Lisa and Ginger“ “PS, we’re keeping the tapes.” …and she dots all of her I’s with little hearts.

PJ picks up the camera, flipping it to look at its shot-count window…there’s a single picture on it. PJ abruptly underhand chucks the camera at Max, the skinny hound bobbling the catch and nearly dropping it. PJ turns and unceremoniously trudges towards the bathroom, his sore crotch still in hand.

PJ: There’s a one-hour photo-mat across the street. I’m gonna take a shower and… (gestures at his body as a whole) …wash off all of this.

PJ gently shuts the door behind him to avoid jarring his brain any more than necessary, leaving a still-nude Max to stare at the plastic camera.

PJ: …and get me a coffee while you’re out.

Thirty thousand feet in the air, somewhere over central Tennessee, Ginger sneaks a hand beneath the airline blanket covering Lisa’s lap…they’re halfway home to Spoonerville when Max and PJ discover their memento. Lisa lets out a purr of a response, her redhead bestie unbuttoning her capri pants and going straight for her ‘button’.

Lisa: (whispering) Mmmm, right there. Think they liked our little gift?

Ginger: You know they’re gonna show it to -all- of their nerdy friends back on campus, right?

Lisa’s eyes roll back into her head, only a tiny sliver of her iris visible as Ginger dives a finger between the blonde's puffy labia.

Lisa: Mmmm… Mmm-hmm.  Th-that's the p-plan, isn't it.

Ginger: I still think we should’ve drawn on ‘em with a sharpie and taken pictures while they were asleep.

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Original Art by Markkleanup

Commissioned and Colors by Phillipthe2