"Unfortunately, the size of Grant's hands and feet is not a good indication of how well he is otherwise equipped," Alexa said.
"That bad?" I said.
"Yeah, the people who say size doesn't matter clearly haven't slept with Grant."
I smiled and said sarcastically, "Right, but you know, it's not what you've got, it's how you use it that counts!"
Alexa laughed. "Well, he doesn't know how to use it either. And as for the rest of it, forget it. I've been more satisfied with my pillow than with his hands."
Ouch. It's a good thing I wasn't good friends with Grant. Alexa could pretty much orgasm at the slightest touch. This description of Grant's sexual prowess pretty much damned him to dating virgins who don't know any better, or those who were anorgasmic and didn't ever expect to have one.
I rolled over on the bed onto my back and stared at the ceiling. Alexa was sitting at the desk across from me with her feet up on the side of the bed, painting her toenails a deep red. The fumes of nail polish and the accompanying remover made me slightly dizzy.
"Well, fuck me," I said disgustedly. "That's pretty much every boy in our school who looks even remotely doable."
"Even Brandon?" said Alexa. "I thought you were hot for him."
"Nope," I said. "I heard from Celine that his kisses are wetter than my dog's."
"What about the rest, after the kissing?" asked Alexa.
"I didn't have the heart to ask. He's just not cute enough anyway, not with those lips," I said.
"Monique, you are too damn picky!" Alexa rolled her eyes. "I swear, the way you're talking, you'll never be satisfied with anyone."
I stretched out on the bed, pointing my toes and reaching my arms up above my head as far as they could go. "I don't want to break boys in anymore. That's tired." I turned my head and looked at Alexa. "You know what I mean?"
Alexa raised her head a little, pausing in her toenail painting to look at me. "I think you need something else these boys aren't giving you."
"Yeah? Like what?"
"I could tell you, but you're not going to find it with those boys."
I turned my head and contemplated the ceiling again. She had a point. I was too much for these boys, too confident. They couldn't handle me in high-school, and they certainly couldn't handle me now that I was headed for USC. And who wants to teach a boy the ropes? I had to face facts: there was simply no one I knew I wanted to fuck.
"I'll get in trouble," I said.
"So what, Monique? What if you do? What are your parents going to do about it?"
I thought about that for a second, but the answer was obvious. They wouldn't do anything. My parents were hardly ever around, and when they were, they were distantly affectionate but too busy to be bothered. I'd mostly raised myself.
"Not much, I guess. Maybe take away my car?"
"I promise if that happens, I'll give you a ride wherever you want."
What a friend. As if I would ever let her drive me around in her Jeep Grand Cherokee. Everyone in the Hills would be laughing their asses off.
"Promise me that if they take my car away, we'll drive Brian's car, not yours," I said. Her older brother Brian had a sweet silver Porche Panamera that he'd bought on his music producer's salary.
"Right, as long as you are in charge of convincing him to let us borrow it," Alexa said.
I had no idea how to convince her brother of anything, let alone make him loan us his $80,000 car. But Alexa was looking at me with a sarcastic tilt to her mouth, daring me to say no.
"Done," I said. I'd never have to do anything about it, anyway. "So...what does one do to catch real men in this town?"
Alexa smiled. "I thought you would never ask."
****
I looked like the best kind of whore. Alexa chose my entire outfit for the evening, and she was a genius for making me look like the sexpot I wasn't.
I wore my hair down, tossed and curled as if I had just come out of a bedroom filled with exhausted men. My top was made of a shimmering black silk jersey; its draping clung to my breasts and dipped low on my back. The V neckline was so scanty that it showed my bra, a black and cream lace pushup number that did wonders for my cleavage. My skirt was short, silver and sequined; it fit like a second skin, and ended right at mid-thigh. 4' stiletto heels in black patent completed the outfit, forcing my hips to sway with every step.
That evening, Alexa took me to a party being thrown by a friend of her brother's, someone from the studio who knew everyone in the business. It was at Brian's house in the hills, with plenty of recessed lighting and a huge outdoor pool with a landscaped waterfall. Alcohol and women were everywhere, and the men flocked around both like flies.