I finished rinsing off, and I reached out of the shower for the towel I had left on the rack from this morning. Drawing in it to me, I dried off quickly and then wrapped the towel around myself before stepping out of the shower. I fell odd at doing so, suddenly modest in front of my best friend who had seen me a zillion times in the nude.
"Yvette, are you going to continue you story?" I asked
"When you're ready to go. Hurry up! And, here, I want you to eat this..."
...and with that, she drew out a banana and handed it to me. I looked at it carefully and then suddenly I got a vision, an intense daydream. Of fucking it, shoving it deep inside me, Him watching me closely as I did it for Him -- perhaps because He insisted, or perhaps because I wanted to tease Him by doing it. Or both... and then I visibly trembled with the naughtiness of it. I suddenly realized that Yvette was watching me closely.
"Karri, the A/C must be set to cold -- you were shivering. Now please eat the banana for me while I go change the setting on the air conditioner." She rose and strolled out towards the living room.
Suddenly I felt suspicious. Why was it so important that I eat the damn banana? I started examining it for signs of tampering (as if I could tell!), then my suspicion made me ask her about it, trying to keep my voice from breaking as my perverted vision seized me again.
"Why is it so important that I eat this banana?" I kind of yelled out to the other room.
"Because you've been drinking and it will replace the potassium, keeping you from getting a headache and a hangover later."
She smiled wide as she strolled back in, and continued, "It's odd the number of things you learn in a big college that have an impact on your every day life."
Satisfied, I peeled the banana and ate it. Yvette had picked up a brush and was brushing my hair out... just like we used to when we were younger. It was reassuring and I let the naughty thoughts slip away as I suddenly felt real happy to be here, back with my friend. God, I had missed her while she was away! While I was away, I reminded myself.
I finished the banana and set the peel on the bathroom sink. Among other things, I still needed trash cans for my bathroom and bedroom. I checked myself in the mirror as Yvette walked over to my closet and picked out a pair of loose shorts and a zippered blouse out for me to wear. My make-up was pretty much all gone, except for a little bit that remained at the corner of my eyes, which I wiped away with a bit of toilet paper... something else I still needed to get -- thank God that Yvette had some I could borrow when I arrived.
"Yve, should I do my make-up again?"
"Get your ass in here and get dressed. We need to go before it gets too late in the day. Anyway, with your skin, you know you don't need any make-up. Maybe some sun, but... Now get in here... We have a mission now, one given to us for our sins -- shopping!"
We both giggled at the old joke. I walked in and grabbed the clothes, and was about to go back in the bathroom to change when I realized how silly I was being. I hung the towel on the bathroom door and grabbed a pair of panties from the dresser, the ones that were on top, not really caring which ones I chose. I snuggled them up my hips and then put on the shorts and blouse. A pair of sandals later, I was ready to go.
"Ready, mission control."
"Roger. Let's do it."
We both smiled and arm in arm passed back out of the apartment. I was feeling good and happy and just plain alive!
"Yvette, I forgot my purse. Hang on second."
"No you didn't. It's still in the car."
"Oh... yeah." I blushed again, thinking of what happened when we forget them in the Greenery.
As we climbed in, she started the engine up and smiled at me.
"Karri, I've been wanting to take you shopping here since I heard that you had decided on USF. Clothes first or food or the rest? The rest first. Hang on..."
"So, what about the rest of the tale -- did you ever meet Him? How long ago is this all taking place?" I tried not to sound to anxious, but I knew I had failed.
"Um... Not so fast... you have no patience!"
She knew she had me hook, line and sinker with the story. I was entranced by the whole tale (as if that wasn't obvious already). I sat back and tried to act disinterested. My curious eyes betrayed me!
"Ok, I'll continue... I had thrown everything back into the hamper and had headed back to the apartment to read through the other messages I had forwarded to myself. I grabbed another shower, getting the California potato chips off me."
I interrupted. "Yve, what are California potato chips?"
She laughed. "It's an expression for men's cum when it dries... especially on something like vinyl, where it can flake off -- those flakes are called 'California potato chips' around here. I guess there's a whole bunch of words that you'll get used to when you've been here for a while."
I thought about it and started laughing really hard, imagining collecting a bunch in a pringles can. She continued. "his/His cum had dried on my skin by the time I got home, so I showered to get it off.
"In the shower, I decided not to compromise myself by going back to Derrick's again; that I would simply get up the nerve to write Him."
My heart sank. Yvette was the type who would be able to bring herself to do something like that. I wouldn't have the nerve to write to a stranger -- what could I possibly say to explain how I knew anything about him?
We pulled into the parking lot at Target and she handed me my purse, and then she grabbed her purse out of the backseat. We walked into the store and she grabbed a shopping cart and guided me towards household goods towards the back of the store.
"Having gotten the California potato chips off," we both giggled at this, "I sat down and reread what I had already read again. It was obvious that He would represent something different than anyone I had known before. I tried to get up the nerve to write, but after 15 minutes of trying to start the letter, I gave up and started to read another of the messages."
I grabbed a small trash can for the bathroom, and a bigger one for the bedroom. The one for the bathroom was really cute, steel wires meshed in a modern art-deco arrangement; the big one just a typical tall kitchen garbage can. Yvette took them and put them both in the cart, then with her hand at the small of my back, guided me forward.
"The next message was just as charming as the last, and I melted in my chair. I decided to stop and search for anything I could find out about Him beyond what He had written Andreas, beyond what was in His home page. I tried google and dogpile, but I couldn't tell which hits were about Him and which were about other cyberpoets. I spent the rest of the day delving down into whatever I could find and trying to build a profile of this mystery man, almost as if I were an operative working for an intelligence agency. But we'll go into that later... now it's time to devote our attention to shopping."
I huffed. I wanted more... always greedy once my mind got set on something, I wanted more. We continued about the store, picking up and examining everything from pans to pillows. By the time we left, we had gotten a floor lamp, a desk lamp, some plates and glasses, a frying pan, a pot, some silverware, an alarm-clock radio, a cheap telephone, a wall clock, four towels and two wash clothes.
Yvette had insisted that she knew the perfect place to get the sheets and comforter, and another for the perfect shower curtain -- not to bother looking here for them... After all, this was our mission, and missions are important work that require just the right amount of attention to detail.
We rang out, loaded the car and headed off to another store I had never heard of, Fine Linens. Maybe they were unique to the southeast. Yvette showed me directly to the damsk sheets...
"What are damsk sheets?" I asked.
"The best sleep you can ever get in a hot climate... or anywhere for that matter. Ever want to feel what a princess sleeps on? This is it, Karri... This is the only place I've found with 400 thread-count damsk sheets."
"Thread count?" My eyebrows arched inquisitively.
"Oh, the number of threads used in each square inch -- the more threads, the finer the weave. Generic department stores carry 150 to 230 thread-count sheets. Places like Linens & Things carry up to 320 count, which is very nice and used by the swanky rich folks in town. But this place carries 400 count, fit for kings and royalty. It's normally impossible to find anymore, and I really think that they are selling old stock that was made fifty to eighty years ago and hidden somewhere like a buried treasure..."
I felt repulsed. "Fifty year old sheets?"
"They're still brand new, and I don't know of any place that still makes 400 count damsk sheets anymore, so they could easily be 50 years old. Hell, some of mine are older than that -- handed down from my great grandmother when she died. Then I stumbled across this place and sent great grandma's to my mother. Among other things, you can virtually boil these, which means no stains and they just get softer with each washing. But you should iron them when you wash them," Yvette explained.
"Sheets that I have to iron? What century are you living in, Yvette?"