I had just turned eighteen and was planning to spend the weekend in Tijuana, Mexico with a few friends, Damien, Louis, and Raymond. I was the last of the group to be legal and since we couldn’t drink at home, we crossed the border. It was the mutual understanding that there would be no girlfriends on the trip, they were to be left at home. All the ass we needed would be found in Mexico—little did I know whose ass it would be.

So, the Thursday after my birthday we drove down to San Diego to my families second house, to throw a party that the girls could come to. It was the typical high school party, minus the alcohol, because the girls weren’t going to have.

Friday morning we cleaned the house and went about the plan. I was afraid that my new car would be stolen in Tijuana, so I parked in San Diego and walked to the border. We got in fine, and then proceeded to get smashed. Man, did I get smashed. All four of us were wasted. At the strip club I got my first lap dance by a butt-ugly, buck toothed stripper, but was too far-gone to care. By the time we were sober enough to know north from south, it was late. We took a taxi to the border only to be turned back. We had to sober up before they would let us cross. We pissed and moaned, but there was nothing we could do, but to find a motel for the night.

The only motel we could find was busted. It was like a crime scene waiting to happen. The windows had bars on them and the lounge had the smell of urine and smoke. The receptionist didn’t speak English, so Louis did the translation. There were only two rooms left—with one bed each. We had to take what we had. Raymond and I were in one room, Damien and Louis in the other. When we got our room, we realized why it was vacant. It was completely isolated from the others in the back of the complex. The outside was dimly lit. We begged to trade rooms, but it wasn’t going to happen. Biting our lips, we went in.

The inside wasn’t as bad as the exterior. It was clean and absent of the odor of the lounge. There was a king sized bed in the center of the adjacent wall. It was round and had a coin slot attached. Really cheesy. It was the honeymoon suit. This explained why it was detached from the complex. I could feel the tension between Ray and I as we tried to laugh it off. Anyway, we decided that we should take a dip in the pool. We took some towels and headed for the pool where we meet Damien and Louis -- skinny-dipping.

“How’s the room?” asked Louis in a smart assed tone.

“Not as bad as it looks. Kinda… romantic.” I said jokingly. I then explained what we saw. They laugh hysterically.

“Oh, how sweet! Hope some one gets some action.” Damien said with a wink, and then followed with catcalls.

I was embarrassed and tensed up, because I actually had thought about doing it with Raymond. I had, had a crush on Raymond since sophomore year. He was a fucking gorgeous Filipino with kissable lips. Raymond had many female admirers, and a few male. He seemed to like the attention, and flaunted his tight bod any