1. Teenage Exploitation Sex Comedy: Chapter Twelve


    Date: 10/25/2023, Categories: Humor, Author: sexobjex 

    Makennah took a sharp breath and sized up Jane’s appearance before replying. Jane herself looked like she’d just gotten done with a shower after sex, especially as she too, appeared to be a guest of The Sleepy Inn.

“Who amI doing?” Makennah finally said, looking Jane up and down. “Who areyou doing?”

Jane looked to the side and cleared her throat.

“Alright, looks like we have a standoff, then,” Jane said.

“That’s right,” Makennah said, nodding warily. Jane might have been her journalism school mentor back at U.S.C. but she was ready to kick her ass if she got too nosy.

“So how about we didn’t see each other here, never were here, don’t know or care who was here with us,” Makennah said.

“Deal,” Jane said. The two continued to hold their stares mistrustfully. Finally, Jane gestured at the ice machine; Makennah stepped aside to let Jane fill a bucket, eyes still fixed on her. Jane was a grade-A snoop, it’s why she was a newspaper reporter after all. So Makennah was going to watch her go all the way back to her room and go inside before she went anywhere near room 319 and Allen.

Jane fished through her robe’s front pocket for a couple of quarters, plugged them into the generic drink machine, and whacked the Diet Shasta button, which instead dispensed cans of The Club Diet Gin & Tonic (without a liquor license, of course). Jane cracked the pop top nonchalantly and took a long pull on the watered-down cocktail like it was an actual soft drink.

“This is ...
    ... good stuff,” Jane said rhetorically.

Makennah scoffed, still eyeballing Jane like a threat. “Yeah, I bet it is.”

“When did you get home from S.C.?” Jane asked.

“Wednesday,” Makennah replied.

“What happened with the Register?” Jane asked, meaning an internship in Orange County.

“Didn’t happen,” Makennah said. “Those fucking libertarians took some dipshit from Arizona State instead.”

“Typical,” Jane said. She noticed that Makennah was wearing a man’s tank top which she had to clutch and reposition to cover her tits. The tank top also said BAKERSFIELD BASEBALL CAMP 1988. A hunch started to form.

Makennah’s body language suggested she was going to break off the conversation. Jane, like any good interviewer, jumped back in to extend it with an open-ended remark. “I could have gotten you an interview at the L.A. Weekly,” she said.

“Thanks,” Makennah said, loosening a little. “But I’m a little over the edgy stuff for now. It’s like all they want to read about is sex workers from the Valley, and I had enough of that with my magazine writing project.”

“So you’re back in town just … lifeguarding?” Jane asked.

“That’s right,” Makennah said. “Nice mindless summer before I go back down to L.A. for Song Girl practice. How’s the Sentinel? I thought you were going to Ventura or Riverside.”

“Yeah that didn’t happen either,” Jane said. “So I’m back home. It pays the rent. Maybe not in Calloway Meadows, but at least I’m not living with Mom.”

“So you’re husband ...
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