I wasn’t just fucked, I was screwed.
So Screwed!
“Whether you’re lusting or in love, crave boys or girls, desire monogamy or openness, sex for the first time can be a beautiful, scary, and an unforgettable experience. Why? Because it only happens once! For my VBF her Atlantic Ocean sexscapade wasn’t the beginning to an end. No, boo. Leon Lartigue had opened Taddy’s mind with fresh thoughts and desires. And if you know anything about Taddy, she’s a curious girl.” — Blake Morgan III, husband hunter, future father, and undecided college major.
TMI Moments
Eden Island
Unfrickin’ believable!
Giving the boys my best catwalk possible, I strutted my twice-fucked, unfed, sunburned bum toward the resort.
Too much for me to handle, I pressed my palm against my forehead.
Nope. My head hadn’t exploded. Not yet. One might say I’d seen and experienced too much in my eighteen years. Well duh!
I recapped the TMI moments of my life. In chronological order they are…
#1. Living on the Upper West Side in an apartment building that everyone knew my name and who my parents had swung with. Looking back on it now, the Brillfords must’ve been the laughingstock of the entire block. No wonder I was sent away.
#2. Having a mother that reeked booze, and I mean twenty-four-seven. At Avon Porter, kids would come back from the holidays with a bottle of their mother’s perfume. They told me that smelling the fragrance in their room, especially on their pillows, helped them to not get homesick. I sure as fudge wasn’t going to sniff a flask of bourbon. Yuk.
#3. Not knowing the identity of my birth-father isn’t that big of a deal. But having a man I loved, correction—still love—as a father who wants nothing to do with me, is a living nightmare. I’ve called, written letters, and tried to visit. I’m always sent away. Blood relations and matching DNA shouldn’t define who one’s father is or is not, right? Joseph Graf Brillford will always be dad to me.
#4. Dropped off at thirteen for boarding school and never picked back up. It’s criminal. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wonder how my parents can sleep at night, throwing me away as if I were a dog. Hell, people in Manhattan treat their pets better.
#5. Sick with mono, those two months were worse than the plane crash. The abdominal pain was torture. All I ever wanted was to have my mom give me a cold compress, and sit with me, even if only for an hour.
#6. Juvi! Yup, six months wearing an orange jumper in a room with Lex and Vive would make anyone go cray-cray. (They’d kept Blake in another building.) I don’t regret standing up for Vive, I’d do again. The night her boyfriend Sanderloo started gay bashing Blake and she hit him with a shovel to try and get him to stop was the worst night of our lives. He’d died right there.
My regret was burying him. We didn’t call the police.
I should have never told my besties to act as though nothing had happened. I’m the one who suggested we all go on with our studies the next day. Utter selfishness got the worst of me. How? The courts would never approve of my separation hearing from my parents if they knew I was being tried for murder. Vive’s parents would’ve made her have an abortion when they found out she was pregnant. Blake would’ve been sent to the military academy down the street and tortured some more.
#7. Alone on my graduation with no one but my friends and their families to acknowledge my good grades was beyond craperific. In my cap and gown, I was the class valedictorian who’d emancipated from my folks the year before. Would I be spending the rest of my adult life with no family to call my own?
#8. Learning that the college fund I’d received as a settlement in my emancipation and lawsuit against my parents, that I’d banked on to set-up my life as an adult, was empty. Zilch! Not a penny to my name. Who knew my parents would take the trust given to me and transfer those funds into some offshore bank account.
#9. Thinking my besties had died. My flight to hell and the plane crash that followed weren’t as bad as allowing myself to believe that my friends were gone. Heck, I thought about them non-stop, except for maybe those seven minutes that I was with Leon, which leads me on to my finale of number ten.
#10. Giving in to temptation and having sex with a beautiful man. A man I’d wanted since the first day I met him. A man who might’ve only fucked me because he probably thought we’d die out there. I know I did. A man that loves other men!
They turned me the freak on. That shook me to a core I hadn’t thought about since I’d learned my parents were swingers. No thank you!
Shit. SHIT. SHIT!
Vive glared at me. “What’s wrong? Are you cold?” Her worried voice snapped me out of my TMI thoughts.
“No.” I folded my arms over my breasts. The towel kept me warm.
“You’re shaking.” She pulled me close, wrapping her arms around me. “Maybe you got diphtheria from being in the water for so long.”
She always made me laugh. I chuckled. I didn’t want to but I did. “No. My nerves are shot. I’m hungry too.”
Squeezing Vive’s hand, I didn’t want to let her go.
We walked from the beach toward the stone castle ahead. Gaelic and feudal in structure, the resort was about half a mile from the shore. Stiff and sore from kicking in the water, I wondered if my legs could manage even another step. “What is this place?”
“Magical paradise,” Vive replied, all giddy and pointing to a bronze sign.
“Welcome to Eden, where reality is whatever you want it to be…”
My reality was that I’d been screwed. What I wanted was for this trip to be o-v-e-r. I’m done with modeling. “F” the French, and dagnabbit I wanted my bedazzled Swarovski crystal flip-flops back.
Vive seemed happy though, which was a far cry from the suicidal face she had on the plane. I humored her and asked, “Like Club Med?”
“Kinkier.” Vive selected a pink orchid off the ground and handed it to me.
Succulent smells filled my nostrils, causing hunger pains to ache in my empty stomach. The aroma made me ravenous.
“Meaning?”
“Clothing optional, BDSM dungeons, marijuana and LSD are legal here. We can drink too. Daddy should get Farnworth Firewater an account at this place.” Vive was a picture of debauchery.
Oh brother! My eyes narrowed, noticing the acres of nature. Tropical trees, white sand, and green ferns were at our feet. It was breathtaking.