"They're having a figurative pissing contest," I said grumpily.

Melinda laughed. "Better than an actual one."

"I don't know about that. There's only so much actual urine in a human bladder, but the macho bullshit can go on forever."

"Don't tell me, let me guess," said Bernice. "Charlie was trying to get an inside tour of the bathing suit?"

I crossed my arms. "What is it with him all of a sudden? I mean, I could understand a little wink, wink, nudge, nudge--he does that all the time. I don't think he could breathe if he didn't flirt every few minutes, but he's never bothered all that much about me. He didn't even try to slip me tongue when he caught me under the mistletoe at the Christmas office party."

Melinda smirked. "Ah, but he didn't know The Secret then."

I groaned. "Don't you guys start on me, too! So I've never slept with a guy."

"Well, it's kind of unusual. Most women your age have at least a little experience."

"If I'd just said that it had been a few years since I'd gotten laid there would have been some blinks and some teasing, but I serious doubt Charlie would be panting after me. He'd probably figure that if it got left alone that long, there'd have to be a reason. Why is this so different?"

Melinda was grinning, shaking her head. "It's pretty natural. After all, if you found out that a really good looking guy was still a virgin, wouldn't you be tempted?"

"No. I don't molest junior high students."

Bernice leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, and propping her chin in her hands. "So, you're not interested in Charlie. I can see that. He's gorgeous, and he has a certain smarmy charm, but he is something of a male slut. What about Lawrence, though?"

"What about him?"

They exchanged looks. "Oh, come on," said Melinda.

"He's a baby."

"Correction--he's a babe. If you're going to tell me you haven't noticed, I'm throwing your ass in the car and dragging you in to have your hormones checked."

"Well, yeah--I noticed. The Speedos? Wuff!"

"Exactly. Get in touch with your inner bitch, girlfriend, and go for it."

I sighed. "Look, this staff has swingers, straights, gays, bi-s, flashers, and peekers. Okay, so now you have a resident virgin, too."

Melinda shook her head. "You don't get it. Men take the existence of a hymen in a woman past the age of consent to be a personal challenge."

"Well, if they want challenges, let them take up bungee jumping, or hang gliding. Hell, let them run with the bulls in Madrid--a little more bullshit will never be noticed."

"Oo," said Melinda. "Tha girl has a spicy tongue." She cocked an eyebrow at me. "You one of the sisterhood, by any chance?"

Idiot me, I actually drew a blank. "I'm Southern Baptist--not Catholic."

Bernice collapsed with laughter, and Melinda said, "Not that sort of sisterhood, Scribe. Are you more interested in sliding into home plate than playing with the bat?"

I didn't have to wait for the sunburn to turn red--the blush did it just fine. "Oh. Uh, no--I'm not gay. Or bi. And I'm not frigid, either."

"Well, what are you?" demanded Bernice.

I'd had about enough. "Private, and picky." I walked away. I was beginning to think that there was a reason I had never socialized much with my co-workers.

I considered going back in the house, but I had a feeling that Lawrence would just track me down. Either the boy was part bloodhound, or I was a lot more predictable than I'd like to think I was. I didn't know what else to do, so I just started walking down the beach. I walked close to the water's edge, where it felt like the waves were trying to suck the sand right out from under my feet every time they washed over my toes.

"Hey, Scribe--you know that if you go walking along in the surf, looking all lonely and romantic, it's just going to inflame Charlie and Lawrence even more."

I glanced up at the amused tone. Dan and Phillip had spread their blanket a little way from the rest of the group, and it was Dan who had spoken--with Phillip looking on. I had the feeling that they were using this vacation as a sort of second honeymoon, and was a little surprised that they were offering to interact. "It's that bad?"

Phillip tipped his Ray Bans down and grinned at me. "All you need is a sunset, girlfriend, and they could plop you on the cover of a romance novel."

I started up toward them. "No, they couldn't. Too much thighs, not enough hair."

Dan said, "All right then, how about you could be posing for one of those 'I'm in my own fantasy world' posters? Then all you'd need was a unicorn following behind you, keeping watch over your blissful oblivion."

I paused near them. "Don't you guys start with the unicorn jokes."

Dan shrugged, nicely toned muscle rolling under smooth, lightly bronzed skin. Either both the boys waxed, or there was some Indian blood somewhere in their background. "Face it, Scribe--it's just too good a target to leave alone."

"Yeah, you don't want us to burst wide open from trying to restrain ourselves, do you?"

"I don't know, Phil," I said, a touch snidely. "I can't remember the last time I saw anyone actually try to restrain themselves about anything. Oh, wait--I lie. I did look in the mirror recently."

Dan nodded toward the open space between them. "Have a seat."

"Mmm--nah."

I started to back up, but I wasn't fast enough. Both guys moved (damned if it didn't look like they practiced to synchronize their movements), and caught opposite sides of the little skirt on my suit--and started to pull. "We insist," said Phillip.

"Wouldn't dream of letting you run off," chimed in Dan. "And may I just admire how very stretchy your suit is, but point out that your neckline is headed south?"

I had felt the straps tightening, beginning to pinch my shoulders. Now I looked down and, sure enough, the suit was stretching in the direction of their tugging--which meant that my cleavage was deepening by the second. If it got much lower I was going to be wearing a topless bathing suit, whether I wanted to or not. "Stop it, you snots!" I slapped at their hands, but it didn't do much good.

"Sit, or flash," said Dan cheerfully, "and I do believe that Charlie has re-emerged, camera in hand."

"Fuck!" I dropped abruptly, kicking my feet forward so that I ended up sitting between them, facing them. They didn't lose their grip, but my neckline sprang back into place, so that I was no longer in danger of an indecency charge. I looked back and forth. It was sort of like being between bookends. Dan and Phil were both in their late twenties, both had light brown hair (though maybe Phil's was a little more maple-sugarish than Dan's, and Dan's was a little longer than Phil's--Early Beatle instead of Brutus), both had blue eyes (smoky and sapphire, respectively), both had bodies that spoke well of Bowflex, and both were more than moderately handsome. Both were also gayer than an Easter Parade, and proud of it. "Okay, now un-glom me."

The grips didn't loosen. "Promise not to run away?" insisted Phil.

"Look, Bobbsey Twins, I haven't been importuned like this since... since... *Can't count Charlie last night--he was being horny-grabby* "junior high, when the boy's soccer team raided the girl's locker room. Chester O'Reilly tried to snatch my bra then, and he couldn't deny participation later--not with those stripes I left on his face."

"Oo, she's a hidden hellcat," said Dan approvingly. They let go. "Please don't run off. Better?"

"Infinitely. Is Charlie really on his way over?"

"He was thinking about it," drawled Phil, "but Lawrence put the voodoo-eye on him. He's doing much the same to us right now. I do believe the boy is jealous. Sadly, I don't think he's jealous that you're taking up our attention, but rather that he believes we're taking up yours."

I crossed my legs and scratched my chin. "I don't know what's gotten into him."

"Dear," said Dan, "it's not what's gotten into him--it's what he hasn't gotten into." He bumped his shoulder against me.

"Oh, Christ!" I flopped backward limply, glaring up at the sky. "Now the gay guys are teasing me about my physical purity. Doesn't having a dirty mind count for anything?"

"Well, yes--quite a deal." Phillip turned to face in my direction, laying down on his belly, elbows bent and chin propped in his hands. Dan adopted the same pose, and I had to wonder if it just came naturally, or if they practiced at it. The fact that they both bent their knees to lazily wave their feet in the air like a couple of 1960s Beach Movie Bunnies made me suspicious. "However, do you have a dirty mind?"

"I write for a freakin' 'adult' magazine!"

"You write a literary/criticism/review/historical column and articles," countered Dan. "While it has dirty elements, it does not qualify as erotica, per se."

"Semantics, semantics. I challenge you to find anything like my 'Tribute to the Peepshow' piece in any learning institution at less than college level."

Dan shivered. "Oo, lovely images of the good old days of private booths, with doors that closed instead of curtains so short a person can't give themselves a private hand job, much less have a friend in."

"I find it hard to believe that either of you two are old enough to remember that," I said tartly.

"Perhaps, dear," said Phillip, "but we have heard legends."

"So why did you two snag me?"

Dan shrugged. "Well, you were spending time first with that pretty pair of men, then with the Dykie Duo, so we thought it should be our turn."

"If I'd been this damn popular in high school, the whole virginity thing would not be an issue now."

"I can see you turning down Charlie the other night," said Phil. "I mean--he's cute, but it's not much of a compliment when they're drunk on their ass, is it? What I can't understand is why you're keeping Lawrence the Luscious at arm's length."

"Arm's length? The man dragged me out of here this morning and... and... bought me a swimsuit." They both tipped their sunglasses down and looked at me over the rims. "Oh, okay. I didn't drag him into the fitting room."

"Too bad," Phil continued. "You could have worked it up into a nice article on Sex in the Semi-public with Isaac and Belinda. Honestly, dear, why not? You seem to have your hormones at an appropriate level, judging from the way I've seen you gazing at Lawrence's butt occasionally."

"Why do I have to have a reason for remaining celibate? It's a choice, okay? Gah, I haven't had this much grief since I tuned the office radio to a disco station."

"Well, there's a simple solution," offered Dan. "Just rid yourself of the little scrap of tissue, and the level of male hormones around you will drop back to normal. No one's ever really ambitious to be the second explorer through fresh territory. Choose someone, have a quickie, and spend the rest of the vacation relaxing."

"Dan," I said slowly, "while I don't attach the mythical, cosmos-shaking importance to a hymen that, say, mystics in the dark ages, or natives living under an active volcano might, I still don't think of it as a throw-away nuisance."

"Oooh," said Phil wisely. "She wants meaningful." He and his lover exchanged glances, smiling.

Call me cynical--I was immediately suspicious. "What?"

"If you want your deflowering to mean something, you might want to, er, donate your virginity to a good cause," said Dan.

This made me blink. "Auction it off and donate the money to charity? Possibly a home for wayward girls?"

"No, silly. I don't think I've heard the term 'wayward girls' since the last time I watched 'That Touch of Mink'. How very Doris-Dayish of you."

"Then what?"

"You know that Dan and I are gay," said Phil.

"Duh?"

"Smarty. Well, we're slightly rare birds in that neither one of us has ever had an encounter with the opposite sex that went farther than, say, a quick tongue in the mouth and a hand on the booby."

"I thought that was pretty much the idea of being homosexual."

"Yes, but very few men reach sexual maturity without at least walking a COUPLE of paces on the other side--neither of us have," continued Dan. I was beginning to get neck strain from looking back and forth. "We've been talking, and we thought it might be interesting to at least give it a chance. Who knows? We might turn out to be bi."

The sky didn't exactly drop on me, but I suddenly felt like I was trapped in an art house film. "You two cannot possibly be saying what I'm hearing."

Phil smiled. "You have to admit it would be interesting--three virgins..."

"Please!"

Dan shrugged good-naturedly. "I told him not to say that, but he insists that a lot of people would consider us virgins since no female has ever been involved."

I scrambled to my feet. "I will now proceed to kick sand at you two." I did. They yelped and tried to snatch the blanket up to keep sand out of their hair, but they were laughing, yelling that it had been a joke. "All right. That's the only reason I'm still going to contribute to the collection for your anniversary party."

They lowered the blanket and grinned at me. "You're too easy, darling," said Phil. "We just couldn't resist. But you were seriously steamed there for a moment, weren't you?"

"I was. I don't know many real couples in my life--you two are one of them. I wouldn't have been so pissed if, say, Charlie and Lawrence had made a truce and tried to proposition me, but when an old married couple..."

Dan wiggled his eyebrows. "Now we have some advice to give them," he teased.

I threw up my hands. "I give up."

"No, dear, you don't," said Phil quietly. "And that's part of what makes you so fascinating to the local male beasts."