Ian reminisces about the beginning of Senior year

OCTOBER, SENIOR YEAR

“We’ve got fifteen minutes of sun left, people, let’s see some hustle!”

Damn, that girl was loud. My ears had grown accustomed to the gale-**** winds blowing in from the ocean, and her voice still made me flinch.

There were five of us on that beach, all told. Nick was bitching about his werewolf costume, Dan was fumbling with the camera, Andy had given up trying to record usable sound over the unexpected wind, I was doing my absolute best to concentrate on directing the upcoming scene (and not the big-breasted girl changing her clothes in my parents’ minivan)—

And then, there was Rachel.

Our producer, and tyrannical leader of the school’s AV Club. Four feet and ten inches of undiluted, badass motherfucker. No makeup (“Fuck that, do you realize how long it takes to put on makeup? I’m adding years onto my lifespan!”), neon blue hair in a high-pony, size 5 steel-toed boots, and razor-sharp glasses.

I guess I sort of had a crush on her for a while. Not sure if it was because I was still really insecure around women back then and her super aggressive personality kind of thrilled me, or if it was just because she never wore a bra.

Another gust of salty wind blasted us, practically toppling our petite little producer into the sand. “Fuck! Fuck this fucking wind!”

I could see that her little tantrum was having an adverse effect on everyone’s morale, so I quietly suggested she tone it down a notch. Rachel didn’t like that—

“Listen, Ian, you guys can be happy, or you guys can be miserable, but it doesn’t change the fact that, if we don’t get this shot off in the next fifteen minutes, we will be filming a daytime scene in the dark!”

“Okay, okay! I’ll go see if our leading lady is ready yet.”

I hurried across the miserable grey beach, cold sand hopping down inside my shoes with each step. The beat-up minivan my parents had recently bequeathed me on my eighteenth birthday was parked not far off, covered with a tarp to protect the modesty of the young lady inside—

That tarp blew off as I approached. For a fraction of a second, I caught a glimpse through the windshield of an unbelievably gorgeous body: the nude back of a perfect, hourglass figure, the side of a magnificent breast, hidden teasingly behind a curtain of long blonde hair…

With a shriek, Corrine ducked down and covered herself up.

“Sorry!” I shouted, averting my eyes and chasing after the damn tarp. “The wind got it, hang on!”

By the time I had retrieved that fucking tarp and returned to the van, my beautiful “actress” was already dressed, the brief costume I had picked out from her closet a day earlier hidden beneath a bathrobe to protect her from the wind.

“Sorry, Corrine! Sorry! I didn’t see anything!”

“Then why apologize?” She smirked knowingly at me and hurried over to where we were shooting on the beach. She was so damn tall, the bathrobe looked almost miniature on her—long, smooth legs exposed up to her ass as she trotted across the sand.

I quickly ran my two actors through the scene—a pretty simple “monster chases girl” affair, and then quietly asked Corrine to hand me her robe.

Ever the tease, she made a show of fumbling with the knot. I glanced over my shoulder to see Rachel impatiently tapping her watch.

Corrine suddenly took my hand and drew it to the belt of her robe, mere inches below the enormous curve of her breasts. “I can’t get it undone, could you do it for me?”

I knew she was just playing with me, but we were on a deadline and I didn’t want to listen to any more of Rachel’s bitching, so I said nothing and quickly untied Corrine’s robe. I had to remind my hands to stop shaking like some scared little kid’s as I loosed the knot and watched her robe fall open before my eyes.

She was NOT wearing the outfit I had picked out for her. I had picked out the sexiest thing I could find in Corrine’s closet: a low-cut cotton top with bikini panties. She had modeled the outfit for me briefly, and I had been fantasizing about seeing her in it again ever since. I had spent the entirety of last night jerking off to visions of Corrine’s ridiculously large bosom bouncing away in that little cotton top.

But I wasn’t exactly disappointed by the surprise. The costume Corrine had decided to wear instead was about a thousand times hotter than anything I could have imagined.