I like to read romance novels. In my mind, I become the woman in the story. My favorite plot places me in a port city. A mysterious stranger seduces me, abducts me, and ravishes me after his ship is at sea.

In real life, my husband and I live a normal middle class life on Green Acres Drive, in Athens, Georgia. I have been married to Jerry for four years. We have no children. Jerry, who works in the family owned insurance business, of “Garmon, and Son,” makes plenty of money, so I do not work, and have a lot of time on my hands. I’m Penny Garmon.

My sister, Jean, is a student at the University of Georgia, right here in Athens, so I see her often. We have always been as thick as thieves, so my home is a favorite stopping place for Jean. At twenty-five, I am four years older than Jean, but we appear to be twins. We both stand five feet five, and weigh one hundred and twenty-seven pounds. Our breasts are a large B cup. Jean is forever borrowing my clothes, but that is okay because she returns them, clean, right away.

It was Tuesday, February twenty-third, at ten-thirty AM that I heard my door bell ring. I smiled to myself. It surely was Jean. Jean was all smiles when I opened the door to let her in.

“What’s going on? You have the look of the cat that just caught the mouse,” I inquired.

“My roommate, Sandy, has a boyfriend that goes to Georgia Tech. He has invited Sandy and three of her friends to come down to his parent’s condo in Clearwater, Florida for spring break. Mom said that it was okay to go. Now, if we can find a fourth girl, and a ride, we can go bask in the sun, and party, party, party!”

“Why do you need a total of four girls?”

Giving me an impish grin, Jean said, “There will be four guys at the condo. One for each guy.”

“Oh, I see. I’ll bet you didn’t tell Mom that? What is the problem finding the fourth girl?”

With a flustered look, and a little hemming, and hawing, Jean finally said, “Penny, they made it very clear that we will each sleep with the guys. Can I use your phone?”

Laughing, I said, “Sure.”

I could hear Jean discussing with Sandy who they had each spoken to about getting a ride, and who knew of a girl that would commit to the arrangement. They had not made any progress. When Jean got off the phone, and returned to the den, I said, “You know what I’m thinking? I would be interested in being your fourth girl. We could ride down in my van. It would be fun to party, flirt, and get some sun. Of course, we would not tell anyone around here anything, other then we have a place to stay for the two weeks. Right?”

Jean stood looking at me. “Are you sure that you know what the girls did last year? Wet tee shirt contests. Chug-a-lug beer drinking. Strip poker. Ten guys feeling your breasts. Are you up for that? I don’t want you to spoil what will be a wild time by being a wet blanket.”

“Jeannie, Jeannie, Jeannie, before I met Jerry, I went to Fort Lauderdale for two spring breaks. I don’t remember much of the first one, except that the number of guys that I slept with was into double digits. The second time that I went, I woke up to find that someone had written “Sweet” on one breast, and “Sour,” on the other, and just above my pussy, it was written, “Insert it here.” So, I think that I have an idea what the boys have in mind. One request. You and Sandy are not to tell anyone that I am married.”

“Wow, Great. I’ll call Sandy right now. We leave in ten days.”

For me, the next nine day went by as slow as molasses. Jerry was surprised to have me come on to him for sex four days in a row. Little did he know that I had masturbated with my “Venice Butterfly” several times, too. Jerry thought that it was very nice of me to volunteer to be a chaperone for three wild college girls. “What a pain in the ass that would be?” he told me. “I sure am glad that I have to work, so I will not be dragged along to be with those crazies.”

I was on my period for the last four days before we left. Perfect. Friday morning at 6:30 AM, we started our drive. It was going to take ten hours to drive the 493 miles to Clearwater. The directions in our maps app were great, so we pulled right to the front of the condo building, without any problems finding the place.

Sandy disappeared into the six story building. In a few minutes, four, eager boys came rushing out to the car to take in the bags, and, of course, to get a first look at the chicks that were going to be staying with them.

I thought, ’Things have sure changed in the last five years. When I was down here, the girls stayed with the girls, and the boys stayed with the boys. If you got together for anything more than dancing, feeling, or kissing, you had to go to the beach, a van, or some other place. These guys, three of whom had never seen me, Jean, or the other girl, Gail, were going to have four women in their condo for two weeks. This will be different?’

It was midnight when our stuff was unpacked. The boys fixed hot dogs, beans, and cokes for us. Each of us got into a different bed. Each were joined by one guy. Not one made any move to do anything except to go to sleep.

As I drifted off to sleep, I mused, “No one would believe this... ”

The next morning, I stretched and looked at the clock radio. Was it really 8:30 AM? “I slept like a log,” I thought to herself, as I rolled out of bed to go pee. When I returned to the room, the tall boy, Rob, that had slept with me, was standing in the room, with a breakfast tray.

“Breakfast in bed?” I said to Rob.

“Yes, we aim to please.”

Rob had taken a shower, and was clean shaven. ’This will turn out to be an interesting two weeks, with these guys. I am glad that I came,’ I thought.

Pancakes, with Maple syrup, an egg, two strips of bacon, coffee, and orange juice. The guys had thought of everything. I was on top of the world. The stereo played songs in the living room. “This is like I am a Queen,” I told Rob. He just smiled.

After we all got dressed, we jumped into two cars, and drove to the beach. A block away from the “Beach Madness” lounge, they could hear the beat of the “Caribbean Sounds,” one of the best singing groups in the area.

“Wow, there must be a thousand kids milling around. They filled the club, parking lot, and the beach right down to the water’s edge. On the beach side, there was a stage. At least twenty girls were shaking their breasts, contained in wet tee shirts, for this round of the competition.” All this went through my mind, as I took it all in.

The featured drink at the “Beach Madness,” was called the “Nymphomaniac.” Bobby, who was Sandy’s boyfriend, brought over a tray with two of them for each of us. “Oh, these are good,” I whispered in Rob’s ear. “What is in them?”

Rob replied, “1 oz Captain Morgan’s Spiced Rum, 1/4 oz Peach Schnapps, 1/4 oz Malibu Rum. Shake and strain into a Rock’s glass.”

“You have had them before? Easy to get drunk on this stuff...”

With a laugh, he said, “Well, lets just say that they have earned their name!” As he said that, he ran his eyes up and down my body. It was the first time that my body was telling me that I was receptive to having this guy, and others take and use my body. I was wet. I gave him a smile, and told him, “I will have to get started.” I drank my first drink down with seven gulps.

Rob kissed the side of my face, as he said, “That’s the spirit.”

Over the loudspeaker, there was a call for more wet tee shirt contestants.

“C’mon girls, let’s go strut our stuff,” I said.

Giggling, all four of us went out the rear door to the stage. We each were given a free “Nymphomaniac” to chug-a-lug. Jean and I had taken dance lessons together. We had a routine that we performed to “Thriller.” Damn, if they did not play that song. We looked at each other, and went right into it. Part of it, we shake our shoulders. With out tee shirts wet, and two drinks in us, we bounced our “Puppies,” in grand style. Three hundred boys begin to cheer, “More, More, More!”

I looked at Jean, and we both took off our tee shirts, and did the routine over again. The DJ was on the ball, as he caught the spirit, and played “Thriller” over again. When we came to the part where we do two 360 degree turns while shaking out shoulders, our breasts were flopping about, like crazy. You could hardly hear the music, above the cheering.

The DJ, interviewed us. When I told him my name was Penny, he said, as he bowed towards me, “Gentlemen, here she is, ‘A Penny for your Thoughts!’”

Jean just laughed, as she also pointed at me. The crown begin to chant: “Penny, Penny, Penny.”

I said to the DJ, “Do you have Big, Bad, Leroy Brown?”

“Coming right up.”

Jean had a stunned look on her face. She knew that I did a “Bump and Grind” number to that song. I had a minuscule bikini on under my shorts. As the music started, I dropped my pants, and stood in front of that crown with a patch covering my pussy that was smaller than my hand. The Nymphomaniacs had done their work, as I went into a world of my own, and began to dance with my arms clasped over my head, and my legs opening and closing, as I thrust my pussy at the crowd below me.

The crowd became silent. We connected. Each guy knew that I was the real thing. A woman that would fuck. That really liked to fuck. No pretending. When I finished, all of the people not standing got to their feet, and clapped, and whistled. The DJ spoke up again. “Wow, Ladies, and Gentlemen, You saw it at the ‘Beach Madness’ I think we can all agree about our thoughts.”

The manager came over and told us that our group could have all the Nymphomaniacs that we wanted, on the house. I drank another in seven gulps. I was having a great time.

Jean and I went to the ladies room. When we came back out, there were two other girls sitting with Rob and Danny, Jean’s date. Rob was looking our way with a flustered look. I took Jean’s hand and steered her to the bar, where we found two stools.