Chapter 5: The JRG

Author's note: The first part of this chapter is written from Kyle's perspective. Some of it is based on later conversations; the rest is me guessing what thoughts were going through his dirty mind.

When you stop and think about it, you never totally know someone. You might learn their likes and dislikes, their pet peeves and guilty pleasures. You might be able to read their body language like a book and knowing what they're thinking before they say a word. But even your oldest friend is capable of doing something completely unexpected, something that you would've never dreamed that they'd do.

On the other hand, sometimes you deduce something about someone before they admit it to you, or even before they discover it about themselves.

I wasn't really surprised when Sherry admitted that she'd had a dream about fooling around with that secretary at work. Well, it was surprising that she actually told me about the dream, and I hadn't expected the whole exhibitionist vibe. But I wasn't surprised that she'd dreamt about messing around with another girl, and I'm sure it wasn't the first time she'd fantasized about it.

It wasn't long after we'd first met that I noticed Sherry's habit of checking out other women. I know; many ladies habitually evaluate other females to compare themselves or to pass judgment on their appropriateness or whatever. But this was different – Sherry stared a little too long, and I noticed that a really sexy girl could fire up a striking predatory gleam in her eye.

Let me go back to the beginning. Sherry and I met in a freshman biology class at the University of Florida when we were randomly paired as lab partners. We hit it off immediately, and before the end of the first class period, we'd discovered that we'd grown up within a couple miles of each other back in St. Petersburg. We met in the library to study, and we went out for lunch, and then we met again for dinner, and we generally kept finding excuses to hang out. We weren't officially "dating" right away, but it was a friendship with potential.

A couple days later, we made the big step of going out for dinner and a movie: the new version of Zorro starring Antonio Banderas and Catherine Zeta-Jones. I must admit, I had a little thing for Ms. Z-J at the time and thoroughly enjoyed the scene in which Zorro (played by Antonio B) corners Elena (played by Catherine Z-J) in a stable and ends up slowly slicing off her clothes with some skillful swordsmanship. She doesn't really show anything, but sometimes wearing a little is sexier than wearing nothing at all.

Anyway, Sherry was leaning against me during this scene and I was surprised to feel her breath quicken along with mine. I peeked over and, by the light of Ms. Z-J's glowing tanned skin, it seemed to me that Sherry was practically drooling at the screen. I attributed it to the sexual tension of the moment plus the presence of Señor Banderas, but it made me wonder, so I started to discreetly observe Sherry when we were out.

We officially became a "thing", and it soon became obvious that she really did have a wandering eye for cute chicks. UF has its fair share of hotties, and Sherry regularly took them all in. She would usually save her longest stares for girls with an exotic look, like Latinas or Asians or creamy Irish-looking lassies. She also took note of alternative "grrrls" or cute goth chicks with tattoos and piercings; anybody a little different seemed to catch her eye. And if any long-legged girl walked by wearing short shorts or a miniskirt (especially denim ones), I'd practically have to wave my hand in front of Sherry's face to get her attention. Of course, I didn't let on that I'd noticed her obvious intense interest. I just filed it away as an interesting facet of my new girlfriend's personality.

Later on in the semester, I scored two passes to Busch Gardens from a friend who wasn't going to be able to use them before they expired. Naturally, I asked my new best buddy Sherry to come along. She happily accepted, and we headed down to Tampa right after our Friday morning class to avoid the big weekend crowds.

We had a good time riding the roller coasters and winning a big stuffed tiger and making faces at the gorillas; the usual touristy stuff. Later in the afternoon, a big thunderhead rolled in out of nowhere, sending the sunburned masses scurrying for the front gate before the sky opened up.

We thought about leaving but decided to wait out the storm and enjoy the shorter ride lines after the rain had passed. Big juicy drops began to fall just as we passed a little theater, so we ran inside for cover.

As luck would have it, a show was about to start. I usually avoid these attraction shows like the plague because they're usually pretty awful. This one seemed to be no exception. It began with a bunch of mediocre clowns falling over each other and doing ancient pie-in-the-face type stuff. They did their pratfalls; I tried to maneuver into a comfortable napping position on the hard bench. Next, a rag-tag group of acrobats joined the clowns. I was unimpressed with the new group as well – that is, until I noticed the performer who will be forever known as the Jump Rope Girl, or JRG.

The JRG really stood out from the rest on the group, and not only because the clowns and most of the jump ropers were guys. In fact, the only other female member of the whole troupe was a middle-aged woman who looked so much like an older version of the JRG that she had to be her mom. But even if she had been among a pack of other girls, the JRG would have caught my attention right away.

The JRG was tall and slender and in great physical condition, with the long, tone muscles characteristic of a gymnast or dancer. The MC had said the group was from Russia or Slovenia or somewhere (I hadn't been paying much attention) and her pixie-like face held a hint of foreign lands.

If she was from a colder clime, though, she'd either been spending time in the Florida sun or laying in a Florida tanning bed, because she had more color in her cheeks than her rather pale mom and the male performers. Her dark straight hair was gathered into pigtails that hung down just past her shoulders. I guessed she was 17 or 18 or so and cute as a button.

Her outfit was also nice. The JRG wore a tight white bodysuit with outdated 80s-style colorful splashes and a little white skirt. The suit was long sleeved and long legged, clinging like a second skin all the way from her graceful wrists to her ankles, her feet bare. The front of her costume had a relatively modest U-neck with just enough cleavage to draw attention to her perky breasts. They were lovely – pert, perfectly shaped, and exactly the right size for her athletically slender body, with absolutely no sag.

Her attractive body got my attention, but it was the way she moved which held it. As the other performers went through their short routines, she bided her time smiling and wiggling her hips, playfully dancing to the canned music. It wasn't much, but she moved her nubile body with such effortless sexiness that I couldn't turn away. She seemed to be in her own special world, and I wanted to go there on vacation.

When the JRG took her turn at center stage and began to skip rope, I knew that I was no longer alone in my desire. It quickly became obvious that there wasn't wearing any kind of support under that tight bodysuit because her beautiful breasts bounced freely with each hop. They were supple and firm at the same time; rising majestically then quickly snapping back into position, only to boing! up again with her next jump. The amount of cleavage visible above her costume varied widely through the up and down cycle. Her boobs threatened to escape the confines of her outfit again and again but came up tantalizingly short each time.

All too quickly, she stepped back to let another performer have a turn and resumed her subtle dancing. Only now, two hard little nubs pushed proudly against her costume from the magical mounds on her chest.

Suddenly, I was hit by a pang of guilt; I'd been ogling this foreign beauty with my brand new girlfriend sitting right beside me. I glanced sheepishly at Sherry, expecting an evil eye or a smack on the arm, but she wasn't paying attention to me at all; she was staring right at the JRG with the same expression of desire that I'd probably worn a moment before.

Sherry must have felt my gaze because she looked back at me for a moment before guiltily averted her eyes. "She's having fun," she mumbled by way of explanation, obviously talking about the JRG. I didn't know how to respond, but figured that if it was ok for her to appreciate the lovely acrobat, it was ok for me to do so as well. I smiled cautiously, waiting for Sherry to direct her attention back to the stage so I could do the same.

The JRG didn't disappoint either one of us. After a few more lame tricks by other members of the troupe, she joined a group of performers doing complicated steps inside two long jump ropes, slowly rotating so that the whole theater would get another good look at her bounding beauties. It was nice, and she got some appreciative applause.

Then she did something even better; she flipped upside-down and skipped a single spinning rope in a handstand. This made her breasts descend and almost slip out of her top until I swear I could see the very edge of her areolas peeking out, her pointy nipples only centimeters away from making their own eagerly-awaited debuts in the bright spotlight.

Also, being upside down flipped her skirt up. I guess I expected her to be wearing some kind of auxiliary bottoms under there because my heart almost stopped when I saw she wasn't – all that covered her nether regions was that amazing spandex bodysuit. Her costume was so tight on her nimble body that it almost seemed painted on. It emphasized and accentuated every slender muscle of her shapely ass and legs and even revealed the distinct outline of the lovely mound between her athletic thighs. When the JRG finally flipped back onto her feet, the small crowd cheered much more loudly that you'd expect for a simple little trick. And she was excited, too, as her jutting nipples again made clear.

I glanced over at Sherry. She stared at the nimble girl with an expression of pure longing, her face slightly flushed, her attention so taken that, this time, she didn't notice me looking at her.

Soon afterwards, the show came to a close and each performer took a final bow. The JRG made sure to bounce her assets one last time when it was her turn, even doing a couple of high kicks to flip up her skirt, her stiff little nips more pronounced than ever.

I got the strong impression that she knew exactly what she was doing and enjoyed teasing the crowd. Perhaps the fact that her traveling company consisted of her mother and a bunch of mostly gay men (well, they looked gay) made semi-exposing herself to strangers exciting. Or maybe her mother encouraged her daughter's displays to generate more gigs for the otherwise dull troupe. Whatever the reason, her performance was certainly popular, and the audience (including Sherry and me) applauded with enthusiastic approval.

The storm was already clearing when we left the theater, but Sherry said that she was "tired" and suggested that we head for the park exit. When we got to the car, she asked if we could stop by her parents' house (which was almost 20 miles out of the way) to pick up some stuff she'd forgotten, casually mentioning that no one would be home for a couple of hours. It was obvious what she was really suggesting. My anticipation made it hard to focus on the road.

We'd been a sorta-couple for a couple of months at that point and hadn't gone beyond some chaste kissing. Sherry had always been a little shy, a little repressed. Being that I really liked her and tended to be a little shy myself, I didn't want to push her into anything she didn't want to do. But right after letting ourselves into her parents' house that afternoon, we basically tore off each other's clothes and made crazy monkey love on Sherry's childhood bed, releasing all the sexual tension that had built up over the previous weeks, especially that afternoon.

By the time her parents got home, we'd finished, cleaned up, and cooled off enough to be presentable. Sherry's mother eyed me with some suspicion, but we pretended like we'd just arrived ourselves, and she was gracious enough to treat us to a great home-cooked dinner. If she only knew.

We didn't get back to Gainesville until after dark. Jen was home studying at the apartment she shared with Sherry, so Sherry made some lame excuse to come over to my place, where we repeated our earlier activities, this time in my bed. And this time, we were able to slow our frenzied pace and really enjoy exploring each other's bodies for the first time. I guess she hadn't been so tired after all.