The Ex-Mermaid

The Ex-Mermaid: Maria's story.

Author's Note, this is a retelling of the events of the first two chapters of "The Halloween Party" from the female protagonist's side. It has a ton of back-story because, like Maria, I'm an over-thinker. And she's nervous about getting to the sex part. Hang in there, I hope to make it worth your while. The naughty bits will be more intense and frequent as things continue, as so often happens. But Maria has a very busy internal monologue. If that turns you off, sorry. If that turns you on, good. And if it makes you think Maria needs a shrink, well, probably.

Continuity purists: I tried to make the sequence of events the same. There's one change i made deliberately, for narrative reasons. if you find something jarringly distracting, that might be it. Any other continuity lapses can be chalked up to memories being variable.

Writing a different perspective, but making the dialog and events match up, was a fun challenge. Maria is a pretty interesting character.

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Gawd, they were at it again. I could hear the moans and groans all the way down the hall and through two closed doors. Bill and Abby seemed to have a ton of loud sex. Most of the time, I'd just put on some headphones and watch Netflix on my laptop. Tonight, though, there wasn't anything I was interested in watching so I just sat up in bed, streamed some music, and picked up my book.

After trying to read a few pages, I found I wasn't listening to the music so much as trying to listen around it. I took off the headphones (I can't stand earbuds, they just feel icky to me) and opened my laptop again - but this time, instead of Netflix, I went to a site that publishes racy stories. Most of them were way more hardcore or just weird than I wanted, but the site had a category called "Exhibitionism and Voyeurs" that seemed right for the moment. I slid a hand into my pajama t-shirt and traced gently around a nipple. I was already getting excited from the x-rated sounds, and the story of a girl playing with herself while spying on people screwing seemed to fit my mood.

The story was pretty good, and gave me some mental images to go with Abby's cries. I slid my hand down into my panties and began to stroke myself. Sometimes I wished I could trade places with the people in these stories. More rarely I fantasized about watching my roommates, who were having a pretty good time from the sound of things. I had tried watching porno. Sometimes it got me going, but it was mostly too degrading to women to get me turned on. The videos seemed to be mainly aimed at men, and the girls in them were made up like Barbie dolls.

I could feel my vagina getting more wet and slippery, so I dipped a finger in and started massaging around my clit, with more sliding now that I was lubricated. I was getting going pretty well, imagining I was the woman in my story. She was on her apartment balcony in the dark, and across the courtyard a couple was making love with the lights on and the curtain open. The description in the story and the sounds from Abby and Bill's room meshed together, and I found my peak pretty quickly.

The next morning I was microwaving some oatmeal when Abby came down. "Good morning, Maria. How's it going?"

"Abby, you two were a little loud-"

"Oh my god I'm so sorry! I hope we didn't bother you too much."

"Ummm... actually, no. Usually I just put on my headphones and ignore it."

"What do you mean, 'usually'?", asked Abby with a grin that was immediately replaced by a blush.

"Last night, listening to you guys, I got kind of worked up and - "

"Whoa! Stop right there. It's fine, it's normal when you are alone and horny. But we need to get you a boyfriend."

"Fat chance. I have size-A tits, barely more hips than a boy, and I'm shy. Plus I'm a virgin anyway. I'm going to be twenty-five in a couple months and it feels like I might never have a boyfriend."

"Oh, Maria, you will. You're smart and funny and sweet, and your hair is so adorable. Somebody will come along who cares more about brains than boobs."

"Maybe. But I don't ever go out on dates and I don't get to meet many guys at work."

"I know a few pretty nice guys. A couple from work but more from school. Some of them are Bill's good friends from Adamson. All nice guys. So would you like me to introduce you?"

"That seems like the Matchmaker from 'Fiddler on the Roof'", I said. I'd been a peasant girl in a high school production, which had gotten me my first boyfriend, Brandon, another peasant in the ensemble choir. Unfortunately, after six months of hanging out and holding hands, we hadn't even gotten to first base. As it turns out, he was gay and closeted. He came out during college and is now happily partnered.

"'Find me a find, catch me a catch'", Abby sang. "Look, everybody gets introduced somehow. I'm so grateful to my friend Cathy for setting me up with Bill. If you're interested, I can try to organize something."

"Oh, god, I'd be mortified if you just said 'here, you two, you should date'. I'd feel... too chosen, sort of?" The last thing I wanted was a pity date, or to be displayed like a sales sample.

"Okay, okay, I'll back off. But there are nice guys out there, and if you want to meet my single guy friends I can help you out." Abby patted my hand comfortingly. "And it's not a big deal if you are still a virgin. Sex is great with the right person, and Bill is that person for me."

"Maybe I'll find out someday. But how can you be so lucky, with millions of single men in the world, to find The One already?"

"Look, that's the wrong attitude Maria. You don't just find the one man in the whole world destined for you. There are lots of guys you might find attractive, there are lots of guys who will find you attractive. Take the overlap of those groups. Within that, there will be people you like to talk to and people you don't. And further on, you can begin to see if sexual desire begins to work its magic."

"That makes some sense. Hearts are for pumping blood, brains are what matters." I was, I guess, willing to talk to a few guys if Abby knew and trusted them.

"Well, brains important but they aren't the only thing. Bill is caring and kind, plus he has a really big-"

"Shut up! I do not need to know any more about my housemates' sex life than I already do." With that slip I blushed hard.

Abby just looked at me blankly, then smiled guiltily. "Again, sorry for disturbing you last night. Hope we didn't keep you awake."

"Umm, no, I... I kind of... liked listening." My blood was rushing to my face until I thought I'd burst into flames.

"Wow. I don't know whether to be complimented or offended. I guess I will go with complimented. But if we ever do bother you too much, it's OK to say something later, or even come knock if we're too annoying."

I had no idea how to respond and I was mortified, so I finished my oatmeal and got ready to go to my boring office job. But all day, Abby's take on meeting a partner percolated in the back of my mind. And so did the thought that the ecstatic cries she made would certainly be more fun if I was feeling what she was, not just hearing it. Like that would ever happen, I told myself.

--------

A few days later, I sat down with Abby and a bottle of wine. Bill was off watching some dumb superhero movie with his man friends, so we'd be alone for at least another couple hours, longer if they went for beers afterwards. I had made a decision.

"Abby, I've been thinking about what you said. You're right, there has to be more than one man, among the four billion male humans on this planet, who might be right for me. And I want to meet some men who can at least check the attractive and fun-to-talk-to boxes. But I don't want a blind date or something - that seems like artificial pressure."

"Bill's been talking about a Halloween party. Knowing him, his plan would be a case of beer and a couple bags of chips, plus a few of his friends, watching slasher movies on TV. That's a good start but we can do better with some feminine organizing. Would you be up for it?"

"I guess so, Abby, but if you want to invite guys I might like please do me a favor and don't point them out to me, or me to them. I need it to be almost natural."

"Done. We have three weeks to plan. Can you come up with a list of people you want to invite?" That idea worked for me. I knew my old theater pal Brandon would be game for a costume party, so he and his boyfriend were first on my list. There were only boring older married people at my job, no co-workers were going to be in the picture. Anyway, they'd mostly be taking their kids out for trick-or-treats, or staying home to dish out candy. I could probably think of a few more people, though.

--

A week and a half before the party, I still had two problems. The first, and simpler, was a costume. I wanted to be a little more risqué than usual, but I wasn't about to pay good money for a crappy polyester "Slutty Whatever" costume.

The big problem was that I was going to be a quarter of a century old in exactly one month, and I was determined that I'd have sex before then. The thought excited me and terrified me in almost equal proportions. My childhood and adolescence had not raised me sex-positive. When I got my period, Mom called it "the Curse of Eve" and told me that I needed to keep my legs together at all times. I had no idea what she was talking about until a few years later, when I began hanging around with Brandon from theater. After our second "date", Mom told me we needed to have The Talk. I didn't know much beyond the basic biology and what I learned in "Girl's Health" class in fifth grade. What she said about how miserable she was during her pregnancy, and the thirty hours of labor she had before the C-section that produced me, was scary as hell. And there was no discussion of the emotions or the physical sensations that accompanied sex.

The physical sensations I more or less figured out in my own teenage way, as I explored the newly growing hair at my crotch and the new sensitivity of my not-very-developing breasts. It wasn't until I got out of the house and went off to the university that I ever even saw my first live penis, and that was on a passed-out-drunk fraternity pledge who had been stripped naked and left in a lawn chair outside the Phi Rho house. Not exactly lust-inducing. I had few dates, which mostly were duds, and only two of which even led to a kiss.

It was Judy Blume and the like who had first given words to the hormonal and social turmoil I felt in adolescence. Later, romance novels hinted to me that wary indifference was not the only appropriate response to the male sex. I realized after a year of reading one or two a week that (a) you could guess how explicit the books were by the amount of skin on the cover, and (b) the emotions in them were almost as cartoonish as the sex part was in pornography. Yeah, of course I knew about porn. You can't be on the internet in the 21st century without at least a possibility of seeing porn, especially if your parents won't explain certain things that you then have to find online.

My previous housemates had been an engaged couple that hung all over each other in the sappiest way. It looked like they were conjoined twins half the time, and the only time I saw either of them alone was when the other was at class or in the bathroom. I assume they had sex, the way they were constantly touching, but they were very discreet. When they married last summer, they invited me, and it was a nice wedding Mass. I skipped the communion, being an ex- Catholic, and went home before the reception since I had no "plus-one" and didn't feel like discussing the matter.

-------------

Bill was my cousin's stepbrother, or some shirttail connection like that. I'd met him a couple times at family reunions, so when I heard he was graduating and moving to the city I offered the vacant space to him. Of course Abby was part of the deal, and I'd grown to be friends with her. She really opened my eyes to what a healthy relationship, and a healthy sex life, could be like. If I was ever going to break out of my shell I'd need her encouragement.

"Abby. I've made up my mind. I'm going to have a good time and try to be as open as possible to guys - maybe even get sexy with them."

"That's brave. I will do what I can to make things happen for you." I was appreciative, though I had no clue just how far she'd go toward that task. "You know my college friend Cathy?"

"Sure, she's a lot of fun. I bet she can get a date whenever she wants, with that body and that personality."

"Probably, but she's not seeing anyone now and hasn't for a while. I'm going to have her over for a glass or three of wine Friday, and we're going to plan the party. It would be great if you wanted to join us."

"I hope she won't be trolling for guys too - no way can I compete with that rack and that butt."

"We'll discuss it. I'm sure she will be on your team for this, if you're game."

"Only one problem." Abby looked at me quizzically. "I'm gonna have to buy more wine," I smiled.

----

The next evening, we got a large pizza and cracked the first of what would turn out to be three bottles of wine. Bill had a couple of glasses with dinner but then excused himself to go shoot virtual terrorists or orcs or something with his online gamer buddies. With his headset on and his attention glued to the screen, he wouldn't be back. Abby, Cathy, and I retreated to the living room with the second bottle.

"Abby's filled me in that you really want to meet a guy at the party this weekend. I'm down to help however I can."

I shot Abby a look. "How much did you spill?"

Abby's hands flew up, defensively. "I just said you were interested in finding somebody and needed encouragement."

"And she told me to back off if I saw you talking to somebody, and not poach on your turf."

"Well, thank you, Abby. Yeah. I ... I'm not good at approaching men and I want to come off as being open to anything." As conciliation, I poured some more wine for Abby and topped up Cathy's and my glasses.

"Anything, huh? Okay. I'll pick a costume that doesn't show off my body, I'll stay away if it looks like you are having some luck, and I'll help if you need it. And that goes for encouragement, or playing defense if it looks like the guy is making you uncomfortable. Sisters gotta stick together, right?"

"Right! Now, what are we going to do for costumes?" Abby wrung her hands together and got a wicked smile like a cartoon villain.

"I have no idea. My mom always took me to church on Halloween instead of letting us go out. She was sure we would get murdered, or worse, tempted into satanism."

"Oh you poor thing. What would you have been, if you could have gone trick-or-treating?"

"I liked the Disney princesses as a kid. Maybe Belle from Beauty and the Beast, or Snow White, or something."

Cathy said, "Stand up." I did. "Turn around." I did that, too. "How much skin are you comfortable showing off?"

That one took me by surprise. "Umm... I guess maybe bikini-level, if it's not too cold."

"How about that mermaid, Ariel? You have the build and almost the hair color."

"I loved Ariel. That could work, if we can figure out a costume." I whipped out my phone and started looking up Little Mermaid Halloween costumes. The official Disney licensed ones were out of stock and only sized for kids. Then I found a Pinterest page full of Disney cosplay. I showed it to the others. "Do you think we can do this?"

"Wow, how does she keep those shells in place?" said Cathy.

"We'll figure it out. Cathy, we need to go to the craft store right now!"

"No way Abby, you are too drunk to be driving and besides, they'll all be closed. There will be time for a try-on on Wednesday or Thursday, if we can get to the craft store tomorrow. Maria, have you got a tight skirt in a blue or green? Preferably one that you are OK if it gets damaged?"

I rarely wore skirts, so I didn't have one. But I figured I could find one at a thrift store. "I'll find one."

---

A couple days later, we gathered again. I had found a calf-length skirt in stretchy aqua knit that would be perfect, and didn't clash too badly with my hair. And it was only five bucks, because it was slimmer than most women could wear.

Abby approved. "Oh, perfect! Can you put it on?" Since Bill was gone, I took off my jeans right there in the living room and slid into it. "Turn around, slowly. Show her what we got, Cathy."

Slowly was the only way I could turn around in that skirt. It kept my thighs together tight enough that even my mom would approve, though she would not have liked the way it hugged my butt. When I had made a complete circle, and was standing in front of them, I saw that they had a shopping bag from the craft store. Cathy pulled out a couple of good-size scallop shells, which had had a few holes around the edges. "I had to buy a couple replacements, before I got the hang of drilling without cracking the shell." She also produced a small ball of gold-colored string and a jar of oversized sequins to serve as fish scales.

Cathy looked at me, having me turn slowly again. "Maria, do you have any thong underwear? We gotta hide that panty line." I shook my head. Of course not. Thongs are for showing off your ass, which until this week I didn't have any interest in doing. "Well, that could be a problem. Mermaids shouldn't have lines across their butts. How daring do you want to be?"

I made up my mind to dress as sexy as I could stand. "If panty lines are a problem, I might have to deal with it by not wearing any."

Abby's eyes widened a bit. "That's more daring than I expected! Good for you. How about the top? Have you got a bikini or a strapless bra, something we can glue these shells on?"

"I won't need a bikini. We'll do something with the shells, but I'm going to need both of you to help." I unbuttoned my shirt and tossed it to the floor, followed by a plain white bra.

"Wow. OK, let's get started. Maria, you hold these in place. Abby, can you find some scissors." Cathy handed me the two scallop shells, which I held over my chest. They felt colder than the room air and my nipples puckered at the sensation. Cathy threaded the string through the holes and quickly tied off a string between the seashell cups and a double string around my back. "There." She stepped back to admire her handiwork, which immediately fell to what passed for my hips.

"I guess we might need shoulder straps" I chuckled. Abby cut some more of the gold lamé string and made a pair of straps as I held the shells back over my boobs. I felt no more self-conscious than I had been in high school PE showers. Which meant Normal Maria wanted to be mortified, but this time Horny Maria had pushed Brave Maria into it. With the mermaid bra stabilized, I gave another slow twirl. It stayed up OK, but didn't seem very secure.

"Much better. Can you dance in that, or is it too risky?"

"It doesn't matter, I can't dance much in this tight skirt anyway." I bounced up and down on my toes a little bit, to see what would happen. I'm too small to be very jiggly, but even that motion was too much. One of the shells slipped up as my breast went down, then decided it was going to get hung up on my nipple instead of covering me back up.

It took a lot of adjusting and a lot of jiggling, which led to a lot of nip-slips, before we got the shells to stay more or less in place and even with each other. I was having a little fun seeing how much I could shake my boobs to try and dislodge the shells. And it became clear that Cathy and Abby were enjoying the game, too. But I wasn't ready to wear this to a party with men I barely knew.

"That's just not going to work. We'll have to do it Hollywood style." Cathy explained whar she meant. "You don't think those gowns women wear to the Oscars hold themselves up, do you? We need boob glue."