Altered Ch. 01

"Hey everyone, nice to meet y'all," I announced, faking a southern accent. "I'm Nate."

"OK country boy, prepare to be trounced!" my mystery dream girl teased.

"Shucks," I smiled, half-sarcastically.

There were three girls and one really tall lanky guy on the "dream team" side and on my side, was 2 semi-drunk guys (who looked more like frat bros than athletes), and 2 girls in bikinis whom seemed to be casual players at best.

A short red-head on their side started off the set by a war cry of, "HA!" right before she did a strong under hand high serve.

The ball had a high arch over the net and although I could have blocked it I didn't want to explain how I could jump that high so I let it go, especially since underhand serves are easy to bump... unless you are my team apparently because one of the frat dudes got nailed in the face.

"Dude, use your forearms! Who taught you to pass with your face?" I clowned.

"Fuck you bro!"

"Come on man, I was just pulling your leg, chill out."

His buddy saved me from a fight by joining in, "Yeah Brian, I know you like getting head but since when do you give it?"

And so, the fight started with two frat bros rolling around in the sand, too drunk to do much more than wrestle. The fight didn't last long, as entertaining as it was, but the two bros left. The girl I swapped out with swapped back in making the game 4 on 4.

"Now we're talkin, we have a chance now," I declared with a grin causing all the girls to giggle.

After the laughter subsided the action started back up.

"HA!" resounded once again.

Once again, a high arching serve set right to the middle, "Got it!" I cried bumping the ball to the girl in the red bikini she set it up for me recognizing that I was quick to recover. I jumped up high and caught the ball at its apex and smacked it hard to the left where it bounces off one of my opponent's shoulders.

The dream team's attitude quickly changed from boredom to 'uh oh we got competition.' Quickly they realized I could play as I was an effective blocker, spiker and server. I had a mean floating jump serve that was hard to return, however it wasn't 100% accurate as at times it would curve into the net. We were pretty evenly matched and after a half hour of play we realized that we wouldn't finish a match before it got dark. People were getting tired and losing interest in continuing so I proposed a sudden death best out of three games to determine the winner.

During the course of the game I was able to find out that dream girl's name was Isabella and the tall lanky guy was her brother Tom. The other girls were friends of Isabella's, named Ashley and Julie (and yes, they did play in college). On my team, there was Anya (red bikini, brunette great body), Tanya (green one-piece athletic caramel colored African-American), Gina (black one-piece). Anya and Gina were twins, both with raven black hair, olive skin (they might be Greek), small but noticeable B-cupped breasts, strikingly beautiful faces and asses to die for. I found out later that all the girls on my team knew each other and originally hailed from Nevada but Tanya went to college in California and the twins back east. The 'dream team' weren't part of the conjoined bonfire party but were interested in joining in the festivities later.

The first game Isabella served up a nasty floater that our front row failed to pass; it bounced off of Gina's forearm and seemed to go into orbit. The second game I rushed forward and surprised her team by blocking her second floater, the game seemed to go back and forth with no one getting a point until I faked a spike and performed a block-abuse where I hit the ball off of Tom's block where it was deflected out of bounds.

Tanya was serving, so I whispered into her ear, "Can you do a sky ball serve?"

"What's that?"

"It's an underhand serve where you serve the ball up as high as you can so that it comes down almost straight and fast. It can be really hard to return if you aren't prepared for it, and since it's getting dark out they might not see it against the darkened sky and hopefully where it's going to land until it's too late."

"I'll try," she grinned, "Game point!"

Sure enough, the ball being spiked high in the darkness confused them long enough for it to come down right in the middle of the court and although Ashley and Isabella lunged at it, they were too late as it hit the sand before they could reach it.

"You dirty cheat!" Isabella laughed, "You win I guess, yay," she cheered unenthusiastically.

"Why don't you guys join the bonfire later, everyone will be drinking and 'whooping it up,'" I begged.

"Did you just say whooping it up?" she grinned, "I'm surprised you didn't do the Arsenio dog pound pump too." To which I faked pumping my fist in the air and she laughed.

"Isn't Arsenio a little old for you?"

"Haha, maybe, my mother used to let me stay up late at night and watch him with her, she loved watching old reruns, I guess it made her kind of nostalgic. Aren't you a bit young yourself? You are younger than me..."

"I have trouble sleeping, so I often watched old movies late at night, it's the only thing they play at 2 in the morning," I grinned.

I helped Isabella take down the net and disassemble the poles.

"You were great out there, what college did you play in?" she probed.

"I have never been on a team and I have never physically attended college yet."

"What? You don't go to college yet? How old are you?"

"I have taken enough courses where I'll be a junior when I start in the fall but I have never physically attended college yet, and ... eighteen," I replied.

"How does that work? The not attending physically I mean."

I finished putting all the gear in its sack and walked it back to her car with her so she could stow it in her trunk.

"Well I am a certified Mensa member and I skipped three grades. I started high school when I was 12. I completed all my credits by the time I was 15 but my father refused to allow me to leave high school until I turned 18," I related matter-of-factly.

"Why would he do that?"

"He had it out for me since I beat him unconscious earlier that year after he tried beating my mom. He convinced a judge that it was in my best interest to stay in high school. I even tried to emancipate myself but I lost because I was on probation, which I got beating him in the first place. You see, they tried me as an adult when I assaulted my father. My mother refused to testify against him and the prosecutor used the fact that he was unconscious while I was beating him and my 3 black belts in three different martial arts and my high IQ against me.

"The ironic thing was that the court was able to try me as an adult and then later used that against me to say I wasn't ready to be an adult. The only good thing is that I got a judge to agree to expunge my record when I turned eighteen if I didn't get into any more trouble. But my probation kept me from getting accepted into a lot of great schools despite my academic record."

"What about 'the not physically attending' bit, how did you manage that? I've heard of kids taking a few college prep classes but not actually enough to be a junior in college."

"I found a loophole. My father could prevent me from physically going to college and he could force me to stay in high school but he couldn't prevent me from attending via the internet. The only problem is that most online courses are only available for popular and easy classes and some still required you to attend school once in awhile.

"I found out that their robotics department was partnering up with a company that made internet controlled robots that you could move from class to class and you could talk via 2 way streaming connection. The robots kind of looked like those bomb disposal robots you see the police use on tv except these have a monitor to display your face, speakers, a microphone, about 10 cameras all around and sensors," I said a mouthful, stopped to see that she was paying attention then continued.

"I worked out a deal with Cal State Long Beach that if they allowed me to use one of these robots to attend school while in high-school that I would write a report on it and finish my schooling there. They were eager to get a Mensa member to attend so they agreed, it was a win-win."

"So, you're an ex-ex-felon Mensa member who just finished high school and will probably finish college before me despite us being 4 years apart?" she recounted, with a 'wise owl' look on her face.

"Well when you say it like that it sounds so simple," I grinned, and we both laughed. "Want to help me get some cases of beer out of my jeep for the party?"

"Yes, let's shall," she mused.

"Ah, Heckle and Jeckle, I knew there was something I liked about you" I tried saying the last few words in a 'Brooklyn' accent.

She linked arms with me and we skipped over to my jeep. I handed her a case of beer and I grabbed 2 more, one under each arm. We schlepped them over to the bonfire to the cheers of all.

"Wahoo, more beer!" they cried.

We quickly dumped 2 of the cases into a huge bucket of ice, the remaining case was set off to the side.

Someone set up an iPod and some speakers and started up some music. Everyone was having a good time as I was chatting with Isabella about her life.

"I'm a fifth-year college student at Stanford; I changed majors midway through and thus the fifth year," she said, with a little regret behind her eyes.

"What's wrong with that?" I asked sympathetically.

"I only have a partial scholarship which only covered me for 4 years" she related matter of factly. "I have been working 2 part-time jobs up to now and I'm finally forced to take out loans to cover my last year, so it's a bit depressing when I think about it. I just wish I would have been more decisive about my major to begin with."

"I see. What are you doing in Ensenada? You are 22 so you aren't here to drink and all of your friends look to be 21 plus."

"I'm here to find someone, but right now I'm enjoying myself," she said, smiling. She then looked at me frowning and asked, "Why aren't you drinking? It's kind of creeping me out." Then she whispered, "You know you'll get lucky tonight either way, there are a lot of horny women giving you the once-over."

"Ha! I'm no 'Leisure Suit Larry', and no I'm not trying to rape anyone," I paused as I considered how trustworthy she was. "I can't get drunk."

"Why are you having a procedure done tomorrow? You're not doing reassignment surgery or anything; you don't look like you've been taking hormones; you look hard as a rock," she said gazing lustily at the bulge in my shorts.

"Ha, ha, ha, no I mean that I CAN'T get drunk."

She looked confused.

"Even if I tried I wouldn't get drunk."

Her confusion turned to disbelieve, "Yeah right!"

A couple of noisy revelers were listening in to our conversation (I guess it got interesting when she mentioned reassignment surgery) and they chimed in their support of disbelief in a move of solidarity which led Brian (one of the frat guys) to instigate, "You hear that everyone, this bozo claims that he can't ever get drunk." Which led the crowd to chorus, "No way," "Yeah right," as well as a few insults etc.

Then a girl chimed in a semi-knowledgeable kind of way, "I heard there is a one in like 100 million chance that some people have an enzyme in their bodies that fight the effects of alcohol."

I knew that wasn't true and especially wasn't the reason for me if it was true but it was a plausible lie that I could simply not shoot down.

"Okay, okay," Brian snarled, "prove it!"

"What do you have in mind?"

"Let's have a drinking contest and then we'll perform a sobriety test on you."

"Fine but that's going to be a big waste of beer."

"There's plenty of beer here for everyone and most people are drunk already, besides I have a bottle of Jameson over there that I have never seen anyone finish and not get drunk."

I shrugged as the frat boys set up a drinking contest. They cleared off one of the folding tables and lined up 12 beers along the edges of both sides cracking open each one. Isabella looked a little miffed and somewhat excited at the same time.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"You owe me one," I grinned winking at her.

"Big John!" Brian called to one of his brothers and out popped a massive mountain of a man to compete against me. "No one has ever been able to out drink Big John."

Big John towered over me by about 5 inches to my 6'3 and looked like he had a hundred pounds on me too; he reminded me of Ogre from 'Revenge of the Nerds' and grunted and snorted like him too.

We lined up on our respective sides to the chanting of "Drink, drink, drink," repeatedly by the gathered crowd.

Ogre (John) lunged at the first beer on his side and started chugging and I raced to catch up. We kept a pretty good pace and I matched him beer for beer. We both finished our 12^th beer in less than 5 minutes and Ogre being more practiced at beer guzzling finished a few seconds ahead of me. Brian approached me waving his hands and snapping his fingers, from which I got annoyed and told him to stop and that I was fine. John was still standing tall but he was swaying slightly.

"Shots!" Out came the shot glasses and the Jameson and shot after shot was traded until Ogre stumbled back three feet and fell into the crowd bowling over a couple of girls to the delight of the crowd.

"You've got to be drunk by now!" Brian exclaimed.

"Nope, go ahead and test me," I said, from which I performed my ABC's backwards, walked in a straight line as well as some other made-up agility tests, all of which I performed to their satisfaction.

"Oh, I have a portable breathalyzer test in my car that someone bought me as a gag gift, let's try it on him!" someone shouted.

When they came back they tested it on Ogre and the test indicated a .25 BAL (blood alcohol level) which surprised me that he was still conscious. When they tested me, it ran at .02 BAL and they tested again a few minutes later and it dropped to .01 BAL (I'm guessing from the residue in my mouth), just to be sure it was still working they tested it once more on Ogre and verified that it still functioned.

"No way!" some exclaimed and others cheered, (I suspected gambling might have been involved with the cheering) but most were just left shocked.

"Alright, you all satisfied?" I shrugged.

Isabella tugged on my hand pulling me towards her into a surprising kiss I didn't expect. I pulled back a little and looked down at the lust in her eyes and drove in for round two and inserted more passion this time. I opened my mouth slightly and licked between her lips which she responded opening her mouth with a moan. My left hand felt up her back almost to her neck pressing her closer and my right hand reached into the hair on the back of her head clawing it desperately. Our tongues did a dance exploring each other and my hormones kicked into overdrive.

Luckily, Isabella seemed just as eager as me and suggested we go to her tent. I told her to give me a minute while I went and grabbed something and I would meet her there. She pointed out which tent was hers and stated that she needed a minute to get ready anyway.

I looked around for George and he came up from behind me and surprised me, "Dude, that was freaking awesome!" Then he came in close for a whispered, "You mean to tell me all those times we snuck out drinking along the riverbed [concrete sided canal in the city] you weren't even tipsy?"

"Nope, I was faking it like Sally [When Harry Met Sally]," I ribbed. I pulled him in close, "Hey do you have any condoms, I forgot to bring some."

"How many do you need?" he asked to which I replied, "How many do you got?"

"I have an extra box of 12 but you are going to have to get me some more tomorrow."

He went to his tent and came back and discreetly handed me a box of trojans saying, "I have a hot babe ready to go so I'll see you in the morning... or afternoon depending... don't wake me."

"Thanks homie," I thanked, going through our parting fist bump ritual.

I took the string of condoms out of the box and put them in my bottom pocket of my cargo shorts. Then, I took out my phone and noticed I got a new message from IreneAdler which contained a phone number. I then sent her an email for her to be in Ensenada in 2 days and I would call her at noon with where she could meet me.

As I approached Isabella's tent there wasn't anything to knock on or indicate I was there so I cleared my throat, "Hey Iz, you there?"

Her tent quickly unzipped, "Enter," she waved.

I left my beach sandals outside, careful not to track sand in as I leaned down and crawled into her tent. The tent was barely large enough for 2 sleeping bags to fit side by side but she had her one sleeping bag completely opened up like a big comforter. She had changed out of her bikini into a skimpy 2-piece flannel pajama set. Her top covered her chest but she had the bottom portion tied up so that her midriff was exposed. I could tell right away she took off her bra as her hardened nipples were poking holes through the flannel. She smelled intoxicating; I am pretty sure she must have dabbed on a bit of perfume but at that point the smell of her sweat would have been enough to make me senseless. She had only one pillow for sleeping so there wasn't much to work with as we couldn't stand up nor did we have anything to lean on or against.

I wasn't sure if she needed me to say anything at that point, and she wasn't exactly naked so I was afraid I might be overstepping my bounds. So, I started off safe, and crawled close to her and began kissing her. The kiss started off a bit tame but as it heated up we started grappling each other with her legs around my waist and my hands all over her back. I grabbed her by both ass cheeks and lifted her up a bit so that I could set her down comfortably beneath me. I broke our kiss and moved down her face and she tilted her head to the side so I could kiss, suck, and nibble her neck and earlobes.

"Baby, from the moment I laid eyes on you, I haven't been able to get you out of my head," I whispered into her ear. "Everything about you I find intoxicating."

Isabella pressed her hand against my chest pushing me back a bit so she could stop my ministrations.

"I didn't come here to meet anyone Nate and I didn't come to get laid. I usually don't have a problem with one-night stands. But with you I know I want more; I feel a pull toward you that I have never felt with anyone before," she declared in a low tone. "I just got out of a long-term relationship and I don't know how this is going to work but I don't care right now. Can we take this slow? I don't want this to be a one-night stand. I could stand that with a guy I barely liked but I know in my heart that if we have sex and you leave me the next day it will hurt worse than my break-up with Mike—my ex."

"OK, Izzy, just so you know, I brought condoms just in case," I declared, pulling one out of my pocket and stuffing it back in. "And water," pointing to the gallon jug of water I set down in the corner as I came in.

She started laughing a bit but ended with a face of concern.

"Don't worry baby, I feel like I have found the woman of my dreams. I'll take it as slow as you need, just let me know when I go too far ok?"

"You can get to second base tonight, if you are really good third but that's it... OK?"

"Jawohl" I spouted with a fake German accent.

I attacked her neck with earnest and moved my hand between us shimmying up her smooth tight abs until I reached the knot underneath her breasts and tugged to loosen its grip. With her knot undone I worked my hand underneath her top and felt her smooth rounded orbs soft and firm; her breasts were perfect. My hands barely contained them. I moved my fingers up her breasts in a scissoring fashion trapping her nipples between the middle and index fingers. I then moved my thumb up to my fingers so that I could pinch and pull her nipples.