Miranda and her family attend a destination wedding where she meets an intriguing young man and goes into 'heat'.

Miranda followed her brother into the resort room. Two queen sized beds and a bathroom.

“Thanks for bringing that up.” She nodded towards her large suitcase offsetting the weight of his own in his other hand. She carried his suit and her dress in a garment bag along with her duffle with all of her makeup.

“Role reversal.” He stated. “Sometimes guys get the short end of the stick.”

“You said, that I shouldn’t ruin my nails.” She waved baby blue fingernails at him.

Peyton rolled his eyes. “Which one do you want?” he asked.

“Closest to the bathroom.” She directed over her shoulder as she hung the garment bag in the closet. She unzipped the bag and freed the clothes smoothing them with her hands to work out any wrinkles that might be starting to set. She stopped and held her hand next to the dress. her polish matched nearly perfect with the blue dress.

She heard Peyton land heavily on the bed near the balcony. She set down her duffle and crossed to the sliding glass door. It was a bit heavy to open, then it gave way letting warm, humid, salt-tinged air into the room.

Large palms and floral shrubs nearly hid the large pool in the center of the humongous courtyard. She inhaled the fresh air and sighed.

“You’re letting the heat in.” Peyton complained.

Miranda took another quick look at the people walking by, swimming in the pool or lounging in the sun eight stories below before stepping back in and closing the door. “It’s not that much warmer than home.” She scoffed.

“Still.” I rather enjoy air conditioning.” Peyton stretched.

Miranda scooped up her duffle and took it into the bathroom. “Oh hell.” She commented at herself in the mirror. “You let me walk around looking like this?”

Peyton’s answer was turning on the tele.

Miranda sighed as she dug out and positioned all of her makeup and hair products on the bathroom counter. She leaned in for a closer look at her makeup to decide whether or not to start over. Grabbing a tissue, she cleaned up the smudged mascara and eye-liner. She lightly dusted her face with powder hoping that it would take away the sheen. She studied herself again before applying another coat of mascara and then touched up her lips.

She straightened and looked at herself again. “I am Miranda.” She told the mirror. Just then a knock came from a door. Miranda exited the bathroom to see Peyton opening a door that connected their room to their parents.

“Your Aunt Shelby wants us to meet up at the bar for drinks before dinner.” Her mother gushed. She was so excited to see her little sister again.

“Us too?” Miranda raised an eyebrow. She had been practicing that look in the mirror all week and it was becoming natural.

“Of course.” Her mother smiled. “Minors are allowed in the bars here until eight.”

Miranda looked down at what she was wearing. “Is this alright?”

Her mother did a split-second scan of her royal blue camisole and white shorts. “We are in a resort, you’re fine.”

The white shorts were tighter and shorter than guys shorts, and had taken a while to get used too. The cami was light weight and very cool in this warm weather.

“You coming Peyton?”

“Can I meet up with you in a bit?” He asked. “I am jet lagged.

“Plug your phone in and make sure your ringer volume is on.” Her mother ordered. “In case you fall asleep.”

Peyton waved half-heartedly.

“What shall I bring?” She asked her mother.

Her mom looked her up and down. “You look very pretty.” She smiled.

Miranda was still getting used to these kinds of compliments. Part of it pleased her part of it felt weird. After all no one went around telling Michael that he looked handsome all the time.

“Bring you sunglasses. I think we’ll be on or near the beach.”

Miranda grabbed the from her purse and slid them over her forehead hair band style, pushing her brown hair away from her face and followed her mother through the connecting door.

“Don’t forget your key.” Peyton called out sleepily.

Miranda checked her back pocket for her key as well as for her phone.

“Your Aunt Shelby is so excited to meet you.” Her mother gushed.

“She’s known me all of my life.” Miranda reminded.

“You know what I mean.” Her mother checked herself in the mirror and sighed. “It’ll have to do.”

“Mom.” Miranda hissed, “Slow down.” Miranda’s ankle twisted slightly.

Her mother turned towards her, looking at her questioningly.

“I’m new at these.” She glanced down at her wedged sandals. She had been doing really well at wearing heels, especially the wedges, but her mother seemed to be sprinting down the halls, across the lobby and out into the courtyard. Even her father was walking behind her mom, and he usually was a few paces ahead of her.

She paused for Miranda to catch up, “I’m so excited.” She told them for the thirtieth time since leaving their rooms.

“You want me to break my ankle?” Miranda muttered. “I’m happy that you are excited, but I would rather not spend the evening in the emergency room.”

“Why are you wearing such high sandals?” her mother sounded frustrated.

“You and Peyton told me that I needed to get used to wearing them for the wedding.” She reminded.

Her mother nodded with a sigh.

Once again at a manageable pace, Miranda was able to focus on her surroundings rather than her feet. A young man in his twenties strolled by with amazing pecs and a washboard stomach. He flashed Miranda a smile which made her heart skip a beat as she smiled warmly back. She watched him out of her peripheral vision as he passed, then nearly jumped as she caught a whiff of his aroma.

Nearly stumbling, she looked back over her shoulder and found herself admiring his back side. What was she thinking? She liked women. Why had he caught her eye? God, he smelled amazing. Was that cologne he was wearing? She shook her head to clear it. Guys? Really?

Her mother was waving franticly across an outdoor bar that bordered the sand. Miranda nearly stopped, she definitely slowed as she took in the view of the blue waters and white breakers along the light-colored sand. Thank goodness she didn’t have to cross the sand in these sandals or else she would look like baby calf.

Miranda wound through the tables following her mother. The bar keeper flashed her a smile and she felt warm inside. He had a beautiful smile. She needed a guy to smile at her like that…… what was she thinking? What was wrong with her?

“Oh my God. Miranda?” her Aunt Shelby called out breaking her thoughts on guys.

Miranda smiled at her Aunt Shelby “Hi Aunt Shelby.” She ventured as the woman embraced her.

“You are beautiful, holy crap, girl.” Her Aunt said into her ear. Aunt Shelby took a step back, her hands taking Miranda’s and gave her a very long scan. Miranda could feel her face heating. “Wow. Just wow.”

Okay things were starting to get awkward. Miranda gently pulled her hands back.

“Carlos, This, is my niece, Miranda.” Aunt Shelby shot a look over her shoulder.

Miranda’s eyes darted from her Aunt to Carlos. She had met Carlos only once before. The older, olive skinned man had a pearly white smile that accentuated the gray hair at his temples.

“Ah, Miranda.” He rolled the ‘R’ in her name as he approached. Miranda was uncertain of what to do. Was this a hugging situation, or a handshake? She definitely felt awkward.

Carlos embraced her; his large hands warm on her back. Oh, God, he smells divine. Miranda no longer was uncertain about his hug, she just wanted to inhale his…. Was it cologne? Or perhaps his hair product. Wait, no hair product smelled like that. She inhaled his scent once more as he pulled away.

“Uncle Carlos.” She greeted. What was wrong with her? Why was she smelling men? Why was she smelling old men, smelling her Aunt’s fiancé?

“Come, come.” He gestured to the large table of people. “Here.” He pulled out a seat for her. Come sit next to my God-son, Miguel.” Miguel, hearing his name, looked up at Miranda. “Miguel, this is Shelby’s niece, Miranda.” She loved how her name rolled off of his tongue.

The startled young man’s gaze darted from Carlos’ to Miranda. A shy smile slid across his face and caused a sparkle in piercing blue eyes. Miranda felt her heart flutter looking into those pools of blue. Trying not to be anymore awkward, she took her seat next to Miguel.

“Good evening, Miranda.” Miguel greeted with a smile; Miranda noticed him nervously wadding up his napkin in his lap. ‘Oh Lord, he’s rolling my ‘R’ too.’

“Hi.” She gave him what she hoped was a pleasant smile. She then greeted the others around the table. All of them somewhere around her mother’s age. Miguel, she guessed to be close to Peyton’s year. Miranda glanced around the table again and then back to Miguel. He was a pretty good-looking guy, his nose was a bit dominant, and sharp for his face, but it added to his attractiveness, a masculinity that otherwise would have made him too soft looking. And his eyes, those blue eyes were like magnets, they kept drawing hers to his.

“So, you’re Shelby’s niece?” he seemed nervous.

Why should he be nervous, she was the one who felt like a fish out of water, and why was she so enamored with his eyes?”

Miranda nodded. “My mother’s sister. And you?”

“Carlos was my father’s best friend.” Miguel explained.

“Was?” Miranda questioned.

“My father passed away a few years ago.” Miguel explained.

“I’m sorry.” Miranda touched his bicep. She almost jerked her hand away but that would surely upset him. Why did she feel obligated to touch his arm? “I lost my big brother a couple of years ago.”

She cast her glance down as she withdrew her hand then back up and looked back into his eyes. “Are you here with your mother then?”

Miguel nodded. “The pretty blonde over there.” He looked down to the far end of the table.

Miranda followed and saw a very pretty woman who didn’t look old enough to be Miguel’s mother. Her long blonde hair fell in large waves over her shoulders. She raised a wine glass and took a sip. Miranda envied her grace in that simple move.

“She can’t be old enough to be your mom.” Miranda protested.

Miguel smiled. “Yeah, I get that a lot. It can be kind of embarrassing when she is mistaken for my girlfriend.”

Miranda let out a slight giggle. “I’m sure it would be.”

“Champagne?” a server enquired.

“I’m a minor.” Miranda explained.

“It is a private party.” Miguel told her. “If your parents are okay with it, you are allowed.”

Miranda gave a small nod of her head, her chin length hair coming loose from her eyeglass headband. “I guess I’ll have some then.” She smiled at the server as she tucked her hair behind her ear. The server leaned in obscuring Miguel from her for a moment. The scent from the server tickled her nose. ‘Oh my, he smells good too. What was it with the men here? They all smelled wonderful. Was it the tropical warm breezes? Do they wear the same cologne? That couldn’t be it. They all smelled different.’

Miranda tasted the bubbly and smiled. She might enjoy this evening after all. “Do you live around here?” She asked Miguel.

He nodded. “Yeah, just about twenty minutes away. How about you?”

“Let’s see…… about ten hours by car.” She bit her lower lip. “We flew instead.”

“When are you flying home?” Miguel took a sip of his champagne.

“I think we leave the second day after the wedding.” Miranda took a bit larger swallow of her bubbly. His skin was so beautiful. It was color of a latte. She wanted to touch it, but made a fist instead, her new, longer fingernails dug into the palm of her hand reminding her of their new length.

Miguel was funny and intelligent. They talked about their favorite video games and there plans for the rest of summer.

For some strange reason, Miranda was never able to finish her champagne. There was never any less than half a glass. She found herself finding reasons to touch Miguel’s arm from time to time and leaned in close to share secrets just so that she could inhale his aroma better. ‘God, am I going crazy?’

“You know?” She stated. “I’m tired of just sitting here. I’d like to go walk along the beach.” She looked at Miguel. “Will you walk with me?” Miranda stood up and took a bit longer to find her balance than normal.

Miguel darted a look down the table and then smiled up at her. “Si, Sure.” He said simply.

“I should inform my mom.” She found she was looking slightly down at him. It wasn’t that he was short, well not really. It was her heels. “I’ll be right back.” She made her way to her mom’s side.

“Mom, Miguel and I are going to take a walk along the beach.” She leaned closer and in a loud whisper. “Too many old people for us here.”

Her mother looked at her quizzically for a moment. “Might be good to clear your head.” She stifled a chuckle. “You should probably take off your sandals. You wouldn’t want to ruin them before the wedding.”

Miranda nodded. “They make me taller than him.” Again, in a loud whisper.

This time her mom did laugh. “Definitely, Then. Oh, have you seen your brother?”

Miranda shook her head then squeezed her eyes tight to keep her head from spinning. “I think I drank too much champagne.”

“I think so too.” Her mom smiled. “Peyton. Do you know where he is?”

“Last I saw him was in our room. He said he’d be joining us later.”

“Listo? Uh, are you ready?” Miguel asked at her side.

Miranda looked over and down at him. “Just a moment. I’ve got to get rid of these. The sand will ruin them.” She looked down at her feet.

She found a nearby seat and sat a little heavier than normal and carefully began to take off one of her sandals.

“Can I help you with that?” Miguel kneeled down.

“Ooh, a gentleman.” She cooed. Why was this so flattering? She knew how to take off her own shoes. She didn’t need to be treated like some bimbo, but he was so cute as he unfastened the buckle. His fingers caressing her heel as he slipped the sandal off sent sparks of excitement up her leg and caused her to take a sharp breath. ‘What the hell?’

She wiggled her toes and flexed her feet, freed from the heels. “Thank you.” Was all she could manage. She took her sandals to her mom and asked if she could keep them before padding from the concrete and onto the sun warmed sand. The sun was still a bit from setting turning the sky gold. She slid her sunglasses down to her their proper position and checked to make sure Miguel was with her as she made her way across the sand towards the water.

“You surf?” She asked.

“Its okay.” Miguel looked up from the sand to look at her. “I don’t get down to the beach much, when I do, It’s usually volleyball.”

“Volleyball? Seriously?” Did she see a blush on his cheeks? He was kind a short for a volleyball player.

He nodded. “You play?”

Miranda thought back to her days as Michael. “Only in like gym class.” She shrugged. The sand became packed and cool under her feet as she neared the tide mark. “Are there any shells or things on this beach?”

“Rarely and usually only in the morning.”

Miranda veered off and let the water splash over her feet as it rushed up the sand. It was cool and kind of woke her up. She smiled and looked to see Miguel watching her, smiling. She knew that look. He was admiring her. Slightly embarrassed at knowing what he was thinking, but also excited that she could cause those feelings, she gave a half wave with her hand.

She continued walking along the beach, in the water, using her toes to kick sprays of the ocean up into the air, its droplets catching the sun and causing them to look like molten gold as they fell back to the sand.

Miguel walked parallel of her keeping his shoes out of the water. Those eyes. Even in the sunset through the sunglasses, those eyes kept drawing her. She left the water and walked along beside him. The ocean breeze kept blowing her hair in her face. She tucked it behind her ear and caught Miguel watching her.

“What?” She asked.

“Nada.” He shrugged. “Just enjoying the fresh air.”

Gently she bumped her shoulder into his. She liked Miguel. He bumped her back. His fingers found hers and laced them between his. Miranda had to concentrate on not jumping or pulling her hand away. She looked down at their hands and then out to the sunset, her heart racing. Pulses of energy shot from her fingers up her arm and through her body. How was this possible? Was it the champagne? How could she be feeling these things for a guy?

She could feel his strength behind that gentle grasp. The calluses of someone who works with their hands. Once, what seemed like eons ago, Miguel had wanted hands like that. Miranda only wanted them touching her body. Her blood was boiling with anticipation, her groin aching with desire. ‘What is wrong with me? ‘she thought.

She stopped and anchored herself in the sand which pulled Miguel around to face her. Without thinking, thinking was beyond her now, she reached up with her free hand, and pulled his head down to her. Her lips parted as she felt his lips against hers. Explosions shot throughout her body. ‘Yes!’ it screamed. ‘Yes, yes, yes!’.

Pulling her other hand free, she wrapped it around his shoulder and held him there, not allowing him to pull back as she continued kissing him. Then she felt his hands on her hips. It was as if fire was consuming her from the inside. She wanted him. She couldn’t fight with her brain asking why, or should. Her body was on fire and the only thing that could quench it was him.

She wasn’t aware of how they exactly they got to the resort elevator. She remembered feeling cement under her feet rather than sand. She remembered giggling as they made their way across the lobby to the elevator bank and then him pressing her against the wall with his tongue probing for hers.

They had the elevator to themselves. She pushed him into the corner and grabbed the bulge in his crotch. Vague memories of what that might have felt like were fuzzy, on the peripheral. Knowing that he wanted her excited her more. She nearly dragged him down the hall to her room.

Miranda fumbled for her key card as her lips sucked on Miguel’s lower lip. Once in the room, she dragged him over to the bed and wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his lips tighter, her breasts pressed into his chest as she pushed her pelvis against his.

“Are….. you…… sure…… we’ll be….. alone?” Miguel asked between her sucking on his lips.

In answer, Miranda dropped her hands to the button on his shorts and nearly tore it open. She grabbed ahold of the waistband and gave them a sharp tug. Her vagina felt so hot, and wet, she wanted him inside her, needed him inside her. With a twist and a pull, she sent Miguel flopping on to the bed and giggled. She kicked off her removed her sorts and wet panties and fell on top of him, kissing him even harder.

“I need this so bad.” She told him. How could she be saying this? How could she need him so bad? everything was out of control. She was out of control. She straddled him and grabbed a hold of his penis and guided it to her new genitalia. She lowered her self and stifled a scream of extasy as it filled her. This was what her body had been screaming for to be complete. She fell forward catching herself on his chest as she ground down against him forcing him deeper. She worked up and down sliding on his shaft, working it in her vagina.

Pressure. Pressure and need build up in her groin, then flooded her entire being as she undulated, ground, thrust. It was as if her whole body had become numb with tingling except for that need. More and more, until she felt the dam break. She cried out, over and over, her voice raising in pitch, with each outburst.

Bright swirling colors then darkness filled her vision. She felt something tickle and brush against her shoulders, her back as she cried out. Then feeling him release inside of her, she collapsed onto his chest her body, numb. She rolled off of him and onto the bed, her heart raced as she gulped air.

“What the fuck?” Miguel’s voice exclaimed. “What happened to you?”

Startled, Miranda opened her eyes and looked into the fearful, confused beautiful eyes of Miguel. She sat up, long dark hair fell across her face, brushing not only her shoulders but her forearm as well.

“What the hell?” She exclaimed. “Oh my God!” her voice. Was that her voice? A hand went to her throat. “Holy shit.” That couldn’t be her voice could it? Miranda jumped up and ran into the bathroom. A high-pitched sound escaped from her throat. Dark hair hung down curtaining her breasts, falling in length to her knees. “What? Oh my….. my voice.” She tried to clear it as if there was something stuck. Nothing.

“What’s going on?” Miguel asked from the doorway. “are you alright?” what’s happening?”

With tears in her eyes, Miranda looked through the mirror at Miguel. “I…. I’m a Betty.” “She wailed, not only at the admittance, but at the sound of her airy soprano voice.

Miguel shrugged. “Yes.”

“You knew?” She looked astonished.

Miguel nodded. “Your Aunt had mentioned it. What does that have to do with your hair growing to your knees and voice?”

“I was told that a small percentage of those with G.A.S.S. go through something called ‘heat’.” She tried to clear her throat again, trying to figure out why she sounded so squeaky. “We……we get an uncontrollable sexual drive” She turned beat red as she explained what had just occurred. “My friend said that she went from an ‘A’ cup to her ‘DD’s the when she went through ‘heat’.”

Miguel winced. “Wouldn’t that hurt?”

Miranda told Miguel what Sierra had told her. “My voice.” She still said in disbelief.

“It’s kinda sexy.” Miguel admitted.

“You knew I was a Betty?” Miranda accused, “And you still had sex with me?”

“I like you,” Miguel smiled. “besides, I don’t think I really had much of a choice.”

Miranda blushed and let out a high-pitched giggle. Then clapped a hand over her mouth.

A noise came at the door. Miranda looked startled at Miguel who looked surprised.

“Excuse me.” Peyton glanced at Miguel, still pant less. “Am I in the wrong…..”

“Peyton.” Miranda exclaimed.

Peyton stepped in allowing the door to close behind him and peered into the bathroom. “Who the hell are……. Miranda?” he scanned her. “What the……” he had forgotten Miguel. “Your hair.”

Miranda nodded. “Oh Peyton.” She said again startled at the sound coming from her mouth. “My voice.”

“What happened?” he stepped into the bathroom. His eyes kept kept dropping to the ends of her hair brushing the backs of her knees.

“I went into heat.” She said, her eyes darting all over the place. Unsure of how her brother would react.

“You predicted that you’d be the one to go through it.” He stared at her in disbelief.

“Perhaps I should leave.” Miguel was slipping into his shorts.

“Who are you?” Peyton inquired.

“That’s Miguel.” Miranda introduced. “Miguel, my brother, Peyton. Miguel is God-son to Carlos.”

Peyton eyed him as Miguel approached the door.

“See you later.” Miguel smiled at Miranda and gave a nod to Peyton before exiting the resort room.

“He’s cute.” Peyton said then looked back at Miranda. “how are you feeling?”

“Scared.” Miranda felt tears welling in her eyes. “I want mom.”

Peyton nodded. He pulled his phone out and called.

“Mom.” Peyton said. “I’m with Miranda in our room. We need your help.” He told her. “Yes, I think this is an emergency.” Peyton hung up. “You should get dressed.” He stepped out of the bathroom.