"This is a cute store, but the prices are outrageous!" said Christina.
"Well, it only sells the really expensive brands; they're expensive everywhere." said Susan.
"It's insane. Look at this! $150, for three little triangles of cloth and a little string. It's about, oh, $30 per square inch of cloth!" Christina's accounting background was showing, as she held up a tiny yellow thong bikini, barely visible thin strings with decorative hoops in the middle, and minuscule tops that probably wouldn't cover everything on women who happened to have larger nipples. "And this one with sequins, $180!"
"No, no, look! It has hoops on the side. And it comes with this see-through cover-up for the bottom. That makes it TOTALLY worth the price!" Susan joked. Both women were belittling the concept of the string bikinis and the prices at the same time. Still, the thought of them holding thongs in their hand and talking about them got my imagination going. And although neither of them seemed like the thong wearing types in their normal home element, perhaps the summer vacation mode we were all in was having an effect? I could only daydream. "The fabric is amazing, though." Susan slid her fingertip across the sequined fabric.
"Better be, for that price!"
Christina is my brother in law's sister, no relation to me, and Susan is her best friend. The three of us had separated from the pack of a large group of people at a weeklong beach house getaway, a trip that I had coordinated. The group was mostly my family, all adult siblings, aunts, uncles, and spouses, plus a few friends of family members, which is how Christina and Susan entered the picture. It was a huge six-bedroom house plus sleeper sofas, sleeping bags, a guesthouse with two more bedrooms, and an over-the-garage pair of rooms, large enough for a very big group of people. The crowd had peaked at 26 people at one point, but was quickly dwindling down as the week approached its end. It was also almost the end of summer, and definitely the end of this small town's tourist season. People were vanishing everywhere, at the beach house, and all over this adorable seaside town too.
For whatever reason, I had formed a tight bond with Christina, and by proxy, Susan also. I got the impression they viewed me as some harmless old man (compared to them, since I was about 8 or 9 years older than they were, but they seemed to find me entertaining, and we ended up inseparable for most of the week, in a harmless sort of way.
"Excuse me, do you have banana hammocks in this fabric?" I pretend shouted to the clerk at the far end of the store, holding up the sequined thong. I knew she couldn't hear, so the joke was safe enough. The girls laughed, and I was thrilled. When you try to be funny (and usually fail), there's nothing quite like eliciting a little laughter. Make that laughter from two beautiful women, it's a spectacular feeling.
"At $30 per square inch, that man bikini should cost you what, $60?" Susan kidded. Christina burst out laughing at the insult, which was also interesting because for all the kidding around we had done all week, this was the most sexually charged comment so far. If you consider a girl making a joke about the prospect of your penis being small, that is. The girls were a blast to be around.
"Ouch!" I joked. They laughed again. "Actually, the bigger concern is how strong the fabric is. I can see where the sequins might just pop off. You know, under extreme pressure?" I was alluding to a bulging erection.
They got the joke, but both rolled their eyes in mock disregard. Then they chuckled, but the thread of joking came to an end as the employee shouted, "Let me know if you need any help! And everything is half off, starting tomorrow!"
The girls looked at one another. I could tell they were doing the math in their head. At least, Susan was, I knew Christina had the math all figured out already. "Naah, STILL too expensive." She said.
We meandered out of the store, and spent about an hour walking down the street, into and out of each of the touristy stores on town's main street. We continued our kidding around, and looked at and mocked every set of thongs we came across in every store we went into. Most were less expensive than the first stores, and to be fair, not one was made of the same unique fabric. A couple stores had man-thongs as well, which the girls delighted in joking about. I was getting a little worked up, imagining the two of them in thongs since they were both so lovely, Christina the voluptuous and busty type, and Susan tall and slender with perky breasts. They would both look amazing in thongs.
Eventually, we reached the end of the main strip, meaning we started meandering back the way we came. As we got within eyeshot of the store we had been in, we saw the employee putting a sign in the window, everything 50 percent off.
"Ok, I'll make a deal with you. I'll buy you the swimsuits, but you have to wear them all day tomorrow." I said, thinking it was a brilliant idea.
"I am NOT wearing these in front of your mother and all your brothers and sisters." Christina snapped, with a twinge of humor in her voice. Susan nodded.
"But that's the thing. Everybody is leaving today. Tomorrow, it's just us stragglers staying until the end."
"Hmm." Christina furled her eyebrow.