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Sizzling Shifter Tales

    "So! Tell me what it's like. You're enjoying the slower pace of small town Americana?" Sandy tells me. She's grinning at me, almost mockingly, but I know she's just one of those girls with bitchy faces no matter how they actually feel. Then again, she's gorgeous, so she can pull off any bitchy look with ease.
    "It's not so bad," I say, not daring to point out how mean she's been to me all through our dinner. She's a waitress, so I picked her up in my car and drove to the next closest diner -- as if it made a difference, because it really seems like every Kansas diner looks just the same as the next. "I'm starting to get the hang of it."
    "Met anybody yet?"
    "Hmm?" I ask, lifting my head to look at her properly.
    "You know... anybody new in your life? Anyone cute? Sexy? Any luck on the Tinder front?" Sandy says, eyes glittering. I know all about her romantic misadventures: they're pretty much the reason we hang out so much. But still, I confess I've been pretty reserved about my own.
    "No, not really..." I murmur, lowering my gaze back to my coffee cup. I don't know why, but I've just not been lucky in that field. As much as I want to blame it on guys desiring Kim Kardashian types with giant oiled up breasts instead of petite, average-chested, white girl butt me (although I do look amazing in yoga pants, might I add), I know my singlehood can be blamed more on my lack of romantic initiative.
    That, and my secret niggling fear that all men are pigs, anyway! But Sandy? No, she just wouldn't stand for that. Besides, I don't want to get into it, but...
    I'm a virgin. At 24, my virginity has become something of a noose around my neck. It's like there's some invisible marker on me thanks to my untouched status that makes guys just not want to go after me. ("It's because being 24 and a virgin is weird," my mother hissed at me in one of our last unpleasant encounters before I left New York.)
    "No, yeah, there's nothing," I repeat. Sandy nods idly.
    "That's such a shame. You should go with me to Club S7 this weekend. I've been spending some quality time with this guy, Adam, who's totally hot and is absolutely banging in bed. If you know what I mean."
    I don't know what you mean, actually, Sandy, and besides -- "absolutely banging in bed" is perfectly obvious. There's no way I couldn't know what you meant.
    So... this week she's on a break with her boyfriend, I figure. "Does Chad know?"
    "Fuck, no," Sandy grins. "We're... on the rocks, you know how it goes."
    "But Chad's coming to pick you up later."
    "Yeah. That's what boyfriends do," Sandy says. "C'mon, girl, you know how the game is played."
    "Does it count as cheating if you're playing around with Adam then?"
    "I didn't say I fucked him or anything," Sandy gasps, mock-shock barely disguised given the shining eyes. She loves the attention, the drama, the scandal.
    "I mean, actually, you did," I retort sarcastically. "'Absolutely banging in bed'?"
    "Doesn't mean we slept together!" Sandy answers.
    Sigh. I know where this is going. Bad enough I'm horny as hell, but now Sandy is going to relate every lurid detail about her hot and absolutely banging sex life. Me? I'll have to sidle up in bed with my three vibrators and thank the universe for 1080p porn for ladies.
    "I've never like, seen his dick yet, but I've felt him grind it against me at the club... and okay, I've given him a drunken handjob, it's really hot how his cock's like... the size of my forearm. That's seriously, seriously massive, you know. You probably don't, but let me tell you now, girl: if you ever meet a guy with a cock the size of your forearm, you fuck him and you fuck him good, because he's going to be too goddamn lazy to fuck you good instead."
    "Mmhmmm," I say, nodding.
    "But yeah, I really haven't fucked him. I'm not sure if I should, you know. I mean, I've got a boyfriend and all. He's got incredible self-control, though. Like... he doesn't mind at all that I haven't given it up to him