Hey

Do you want to have some fun?

Read this story and try to figure out the song that I used as inspiration. There are hints throughout (names of songwriter, lyrical clues, hints to the song title -- all kinds of stuff!), but I must warn you that the song I used is hidden pretty well!! BUT it IS a song that was a big hit by a big artist. Of course, with billions of songs, you may have heard it or you may not have heard it. But you can still enjoy the stories and the game!!

At the end of each story, I have a page with some hints. And then after the hints, I give you the song and artist I used for the story.

No peeking!!

Give it a try and be sure to let me know how you did!!

Love, Frey

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"I don't know what your problem with having some fun is. It's a party. Besides, last week you agreed that you would go with me."

"That was last week," Andy replied. "Tonight, I just don't want to go."

"So... now I have to go all alone? Is that what you're telling me?"

"Every time you drag me to one of these parties, you try to set me up with some loser and every single time it ends in disaster!"

"No. Not always," Alison protested, but it didn't come out sounding very convincing.

"Connor? Remember him? From three weeks ago?"

"He was nice... but... weird."

Andy crossed her arms and stared at Alison.

"Not every guy can be as great as your long-lost love, James, you know."

"There we are!" Andy threw her hands up in disgust. "You just need to drag James back into every conversation, don't you? Throw that right in my face, huh?"

"Evelynn, help me out, here," Alison pleaded, realizing her mistake and desperately hoping for an ally in this discussion that had quickly turned into a confrontation.

"Don't you dare get me involved! You brought him up, Alison. This is your problem. I have to head out anyway."

Alison turned back to Andy and smiled sweetly, hoping to defuse the escalating situation. "It's just a fun little party, anyway."

"I really just don't want to go." Andy's face still looked angry, but at least her voice sounded calmer.

"But Evelynn can't go and I need someone to go with me," Alison pleaded. "Tim's gonna be there and I don't want to go alone."

"Ugh. Tim," Andy moaned with a grimace.

"He's hot," Alison replied with a dreamy look in her eyes.

"He's a tool."

Alison grinned. "I've heard that he has quite a large tool. Hopefully he'll be drilling me later tonight!"

"You're disgusting!" Andy exclaimed.

"Why? Because I enjoy sex?"

"Because you're obsessed with sex."

"And you're obsessed with imaginary true love."

Andy's face clouded over at that comment. "I'm a romantic," she pouted.

Realizing that Andy was about to sink into her pity pit about how James was supposed to be the one, Alison grabbed her hand. "Come on. The party'll be fun."

Resignedly, Andy muttered, "Fine." She had discovered long ago that resisting Alison was almost always a complete waste of time.

A half-hour later they were slowly driving down a side street two towns over.

"It's 13 West Reading Ave.," Andy said, peering at the address scrawled on the back of a torn envelope.

"Okay. Here's West Reading." Alison put her turn signal on and steered the car down the dark street. "And I'm guessing that the house with all of the lights on and all of the cars in front of it is 13."

Still unconvinced that she even wanted to be there at all, Andy shrugged. "Yeah. Must be."

Parking the car behind a small yellow convertible, Alison proclaimed, "We're here! Let the hunt for Tim's cock begin!"

"Disgusting," Andy muttered as she unbuckled herself and opened the car door.

The party was loud and bright and utterly annoying to Andy, so she quickly found a quiet corner to occupy and observe the throng of people. Alison had already scurried off to court Tim and his giant tool, so Andy just stood by a large potted plant and nibbled on a couple of stale crackers. She watched Alison across the room fawning all over the fabled Tim. "Gross," she mumbled, biting down on a cracker.

Andy spent the next fifteen minutes just watching the people at the party interact. She was always amazed at how easily people could force laughter and fake smiles like they do. She grabbed another cracker while she lamented the fact that she was never able to be so at ease with the pretend social graces that someone like Alison always seemed to be.

And then she froze as she looked up and her view was almost entirely blocked by the most gorgeous man she had ever laid her eyes on.

He smiled and somehow he became even more gorgeous. "Hi."

He said a few other words -- probably his name and stuff -- but Andy just stood there, half a cracker soggifying in her gaping open mouth, the other half held in mid-air, mere millimeters away from her completely immobile lips. She could feel her eyes drying out, but was unable to blink for fear of missing a split second of this vision before her.

"Uh, sorry," this vision said. "I didn't mean to interrupt your Triscuit time."

Barely able to speak with the mush in her mouth, Andy still felt the need to reply. To say something. Anything. "It's not a Triscuit," she babbled, trying not to spit wet cracker at this man, and instantly regretted her unbelievably stupid remark.

"Well, I'm not much of a cracker connoisseur," he admitted.

Hastily swallowing the mess in her mouth, Andy, for some reason unbeknownst to her, doubled down on her idiotic comment with a lame attempt at a joke. "Oh, I am."

He arched his eyebrows in intrigue.

Deciding to try to dig herself out of this verbal hellhole, Andy continued. "If it has anything to do with crackers, I'm the expert." She started to gain steam, feeling that she was back on her game. "In fact, some people argue that a Triscuit is not even a true cracker -- I'm not one of those heathens, though. I believe that a Triscuit squarely falls into the cracker family."

"'Squarely,' huh?" He smiled at the joke.

Andy smiled back at him and at the immediate ease of their playful conversation. "Squarely," she confirmed, happy that this joke landed.

He nodded.

"And don't even get me started on animal crackers," Andy spat that last word out as if the letters themselves had a foul taste.

"Oh, I won't. I won't." He held up his hands in preemptive surrender. "Hey, can I get you anything? A drink?"

"Ginger ale would be nice."

"Sure."

Andy nodded and smiled.

"I'll be right back."

And then he was gone.

Andy blinked, nourishing her long-forgotten eyeballs and put the other half of the cracker into her mouth. She replayed the short scene in her head trying to make sense of it all -- everything had happened so quickly -- but before she could even begin thinking it all through, Alison rushed up to her.

"Come on, let's go. Tim's an asshole."

"No. I --"

"Now." Alison grabbed Andy's arm and started dragging her towards the door. Andy desperately looked around but couldn't see her mystery man through all faces, and she knew that it would be futile to resist the hand wrapped around her wrist. When Alison had that look in her eyes and that tone in her voice -- well, there just was no resisting.

In the car, Alison turned the ignition and the old engine stumbled to life. She grumbled to herself as she shifted the car into gear, stepped on the accelerator, and they sped off down the road and away from the party.

But Andy was equally angry. Angry at Alison and angry at herself for allowing Alison to drag her out of the party. The party that she hadn't even wanted to attend. The party that she, from Alison's standpoint, had spent just standing in a corner, alone and bored.

Too late, Andy said, "I wanted to stay. You know that I was talking to a guy when you dragged me out?"

"No you weren't."

"I was. He went to get me a drink and then you interrupted."

Completely ignoring Andy's despair, Alison crooned, "Ooooo, really? So, against your vehement desire to self-sabotage every single potential relationship before they can even begin, you actually allowed yourself to meet someone new?"

"I was in the process of meeting someone... until you dragged me away." Andy frowned in the dark of the passenger seat. "I didn't even get his name."

"Oh, don't worry. I'll ask Abby. She'll know who it was. What did he look like?"

Andy's frown became a smile remembering his face. "He was kind of tall. Dark hair. Dark brown eyes. Gorgeous."

"Tall, dark, and handsome?" Alison questioned. "You're making that up."

For a fraction of a second, Andy doubted herself. She wondered if she actually had imagined the guy. "No. He was real," she stated with a slight nod, confirming the truth to herself.

"And he was interested in you?"

"Why do you say it like that?"

"You're scrawny and gangly. Stringy blonde hair. Squinty eyes. And they're that weird blue color. Kind of... intense. In a kind of scary way. And you got small tits. And no ass."

Offended, Andy replied, "Some people think I'm pretty."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Totally. Not that -- I mean... I didn't mean it to sound like that. You're... you're very pretty." And then in classic Alison fashion, she tempered the tiny complement with a very thinly-veiled insult. "You're just not every guy's cup of tea. Your beauty is... different." She then added, "But in a good way."

Andy crossed her arms. "Um-hmm."

Trying to cheer her friend up, Alison said, "I'll ask Abby. She'll know." She then changed the subject back to her. "You wanna know what Tim said to me?"

"Not really," Andy muttered, but Alison told her anyway. In long-winded and excruciating detail, Alison recounted the entire boring story and only stopped three long minutes after they had already pulled into the driveway. And that was only because Alison had to go inside to pee.

Yelling from behind the half-open bathroom door, Alison told Andy that she had just texted Abby. "I told her to find the guy and tell him that you thought he was hot and to give him your number."

"What?" Andy shrieked, charging towards the bathroom. As she smashed the door open, she yelled, "Why did you do that?"

With her skirt up around her waist, her phone in one hand, and a small wad of toilet paper in the other, Alison looked at her friend and blinked. In slow, measured tones, like she was talking to a toddler, Alison told Andy, "Because you want to know who the guy is and you thought he was hot and you want him to call you."

Mouth agape, Andy shook her head in alarm. "What if he has a girlfriend?"

"And what if he doesn't?" Alison wiped herself and stood up.

Andy scoffed, turned, and stalked out of the bathroom. Alison called after her, "I'm just trying to help you."

Andy ignored her and climbed the stairs to the second floor. She went into her bedroom, closed the door, and turned the small lock on the doorknob. She wanted to be alone.

She sat on the bed and sighed.

She knew that Alison was just trying to help.

She looked down at her phone.

She knew that she was going to spend quite a long time staring at that little black screen, waiting -- hoping -- fearing -- that a text notification was going to pop up.

Andy sighed again.

She knew nothing about the man at the party.

But her heart had felt something.

Her heart had felt a connection.

'But what if he's in love with someone else?' her mind asked.

'What if he's not?' something even deeper countered, echoing Alison's comment.

Andy wasn't sure how long she sat on the edge of her bed looking at her phone but not really seeing it. All she saw was her recollection of the beautiful mystery man.

Her heart had definitely felt something.

As did a lower part of her anatomy.

Andy took a deep breath, then exhaled with a slow hiss from her nostrils.

"Well, it'll pass some time, I guess," she mumbled to the empty room as she got up and went to the door.

All washed up, teeth flossed and brushed, hair pulled back in a scrunchie, Andy came back into her room and again locked the door behind her. But for a different reason this time. Her heart may have felt the same as it did a few minutes ago, but another part of her was feeling a growing gnaw.

Something else was tingling, getting wetter, and was insisting on her attention.

Andy knew that she was as powerless against this as she was powerless against Alison when Alison was in one of her moods. So she kicked off her shoes, slid out of her skirt and panties, pulled off her shirt and bra, carefully placed her phone on the nightstand, clicked off the light, and eagerly slipped into bed.

For a moment, she simply laid there staring at the dark ceiling, conjuring up the image of her mystery man from the party.

Then the long fingers of her left hand crept up to her right breast. As Alison had said, they may have been small, but as the saying goes, anything more than a handful was a waste, right? And besides, her nipples were cute, tight, and incredibly sensitive. More than a few times, she had climaxed simply from nipple play.

And not always with a partner.

But that took a while and she needed to be in a certain headspace for it to work. That wasn't Andy's plan this time, as her other hand snaked the familiar path down between her slender thighs.

Even before her fingers made contact, Andy could feel the heat. Her fingers hovered for a delicious moment, toying with the almost tangible sultry passion radiating from the center of her focus before dipping down into herself. She closed her eyes as the tip of one finger lightly danced across the quivering petals that were alive with desire and desperate with longing.

The mystery man smiled at her from the very surface of her memory. So fresh. So new. So handsome.

She gently pinched her nipple just as the finger, now acting with a mind of its own, pressed further inside her. Andy could sense her aching clitoris throb fiercely, demanding its share of attention.

Feeling the soft and slippery nub squirm under her now-soaked fingers, Andy couldn't help but writhe under the thin bed sheet. Silently moaning, eyes clamped shut, she imagined that it was her mystery man pushing against her naked body with that amazing ability that the best of male lovers possessed. Hard and forceful but somehow still soft and gentle.

Andy hadn't realized just how turned on she had been.

She was already very close.

Rubbing.

Just a few more seconds.

A finger gently flicking her nipple.

Very close.

Very close.

And then that wonderfully helpless feeling.

That awesomely intense moment when the entire world pauses and nothing else exists outside of this feeling.

Andy stopped breathing.

Her heart stopped beating.

Brainwaves flatlined.

Everything froze.

Time stood still.

And then everything exploded in a gushing rainbow of emotions, feelings, memories... Everything all at once.

A million lifetimes in a single moment too infinitely small to measure.

It seemed as if nothing else mattered.

But something did matter.

At the very edge of Andy's consciousness and simultaneously at the very center of her being, she heard her phone ding.

A text!

She quickly wiped her right hand on her bare tummy while her left hand frantically scrambled for the phone.

Holding it in front of her face, she stared at the screen.

'Hey. You still up?'

Then the three dots that mean someone's typing.

Then the ding.

'It's Chris. From the party.'

With buoyant thumbs trembling with excitement, Andy typed back 'Hey, Chris.'

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Hints:

Andy's ex-boyfriend is named James. The singer of this song was named after James Taylor.

The party guy's name is Chris. The singer of the song has very fond memories of growing up on a Christmas tree farm.

Chris says "hey" just like in the song.

The description of the main character (Scrawny and gangly. Stringy blonde hair. Squinty weird blue eyes. Small tits. No ass.) is a COMPLETELY farcical way to describe the singer of the song. Personally, I think the songstress is beautiful.

Alison is the singer's middle name.

The boy that Alison is interested in is named Tim. This references the singer's first single.

The address of the party is 13 West Reading Avenue. The singer's favorite number is 13.

Also, the singer grew up in West Reading, PA.

The party was thrown by Abby. The singer's best childhood friend is named Abigail.

And if you still need a hint as to what the song is, take a look at the first letter of the first 12 paragraphs and see what they spell out.

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The song is "Enchanted" by Taylor Swift.

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I would like to thank:

AlexFourways for his never-ending support.

Figjamkiss for making sure that what I write makes sense to others.

a_horse_with_no_name for helping me to navigate the scary world of online publishing.