"You may call me BigJohn31"

In the battle of the two heads, Andy's lower head won out this time. He's always wanted to explore the darker side of sex, and this felt like the perfect opportunity. Thinking back to all the porn he's watched, he channels his inner over the top testosterone pornstar. He types up the following response:

"You can call me BigJohn31, slut. I'm going to show up in a mask, because I'll be damned if you get to see who's fucking you. What's your address, I'll be there in half an hour."

Soon he gets the reply: "Villa 315 at the resort, I'm waiting baby."

Well shit, it was on. Getting creative, Andy went into his room, where Kevin was already passed out, and grabbed a spare shirt out of his luggage. He quickly wrapped and tied it around his head and face, then tore two holes in it so he could see. Ugly, but it would serve the purpose. Sneaking out of the suite, he quickly ran down the path and to Trish's villa. Once again, he found the front door unlocked and slightly ajar. This time, however, he confidently strode in through the front door.

The first thing he saw was Trish, spread out on the bed wearing a sexy lacy set of lingerie, complete with garter belt and stockings. She'd put on makeup and done her hair, and Andy barely recognized her. Gone was the sweet, creative childhood friend: instead there was a hot, voluptuous sexpot waiting. In a corner of the bedroom sat David, with his arms tied behind his back to a chair, and a gag tied around his mouth. Both of them looked over at Andy, with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty.

"Well, Big John, how do you want me?" Trish asks seductively, running a hand down her legs.