Vickie was for me that one friend you've had since early childhood, with whom you stay friends even though, as you grow up, you discover you have little in common. She was a 'normie', a stereotypical good girl, religious and shy, whereas I was the weirdo (which to be fair at that time meant little more than changing hair colour every month), against the system, and striving to attract romantic interest.
Still, we remained close through the years. She liked having what she viewed as a more daring friend, and I liked the stability and an occasional metaphorical slap in the face. I also simply liked her. It wasn't a giant crush or anything, but when I first realised I liked girls too, she was the obvious choice for my fantasies. In time, these were enriched, but in time Vickie's boobs also got much bigger, so I still thought of her now and then when touching myself.
That's not to say I had set any plan in motion (come on, you know where this story is going); in fact, that summer before the last year of school there was supposed to be a third girl coming with us on vacation, but she cancelled on the last minute. So we ended up going to the island alone. I extracted a promise from her that we would go out every night, and in turn, I promised not to leave her alone in some beach bar to go fuck strangers (this wasn't something I really did - but I might have been exaggerating my promiscuousness in my tales to scandalise my timid friend).
The first three days were normal enough. The sea, food, walking the narrow island streets, the sea again, and an evening out. I did notice that when I took my top off to sunbathe at the beach Vickie would look over at me with envy - not envy of my chest, nowhere near as impressive as hers, but probably of my willingness to flaunt it. I challenged her to do the same, even telling her that the stares she would get would make her wet, but it was a lost cause. She didn't want to hear about it, but would still steal a glance when she thought I was asleep.
The nights were also uneventful. I would flirt a little at the establishments we visited, but wouldn't leave her alone. In truth, as much as I was momentarily tempted to follow some of these guys in a dark alley and suck a dick or five, I was aware it would be a rather dangerous thing to do, and in any case, I was going through a 'guys suck, only girls from now on' phase.
Of course, that's not what I told Vickie. I would half-jokingly complain that she was going to once again deprive me of dick, and tell her she could easily bag a guy too. On the fourth night, before going out, I even told her we could share one if she was too intimidated. At that point she snapped, which I had not seen coming.
"You know what? Take that swaying ass of yours and go find yourself some dick then! I'll stay here and read a book or something. Enough already with your shit! Jesus Christ!"
She had never shouted at me before. "What is your problem?" I asked earnestly, though in retrospect it was a poor turn of phrase.
"What's my problem? I guess my problem is that I don't think about sex all day long. Your problem is not that you are a slut, but that you want to rub all the attention you get in my face, to make me feel bad about myself."
"Seriously? That's what you think is happening here?"
"What else? Why else have you been bragging about all your sexual exploits these past few months if not to show how popular you are?"
"Because you're the only one I trust, you stupid piece of shit!" I screamed at her. "Because I know you won't judge me, or at least you will try not to. Besides...well, I made a lot of those exploits up." I wasn't sure I should have admitted that I had been vastly exaggerating my sex life to Vickie. At first, I had done it to see if she would get shocked, and then to see how much she would believe of the increasingly taller tales I would throw at her. As it turned out, most of it.
"What? Why?" The surprise had calmed her nerves, so I explained my "reasoning" to her. I thought she might get furious again at me for mocking her all this time, but I think she was relieved to find out we hadn't drifted quite that far apart.
"So which parts are true?" She sounded earnestly curious. There was a third reason I had kept telling her all these steamy stories, and that was that I thought she got off on them. This I kept to myself.
"You know what? Screw the bar, let's go for a walk at the beach and I will tell you the truth of them."
The beach was rather rocky, so there were no couples looking for privacy at that hour. We were alone with the sound of the waves and the light of the stars and the waning moon.
"Go ahead. Ask away," I prompted her.
"Did you give a handjob to every member of that volleyball team?"
"Lol, no. All I did was flash them as I was passing through the gym."
She bulged her eyes. Even though it was so much less, the fact that she now knew it was fact was still a bit shocking to her prude mind.
"Ok. Did you have a threesome with Alex and Leo?" Leo had been my boyfriend till a couple of months earlier.
"No; But Leo once let Alex in to watch us have sex. I wasn't happy with Leo thinking he could take such an initiative, so the next day I went and sucked Alex's dick." That was pretty much how that relationship ended. My reasoning of cause and effect seemed perfectly rational back then.
"Okay, okay. Did you have sex with Helen?" she continued. Now that she had accepted I only told her these things because she was my friend, she was getting excited.
"Not really, we just made out and we fingered each other a little."
"I see. So none of the stories so far are entirely fictitious."
"Every legend has a grain of truth, right? So does the legend of the great slut, me." I gave a short bow.