Panties and propositions
Phoenix
After saying goodbye to Tanner, I learn I’ve got a very tipsy Jordie on my hands. Somehow, she seems to walk better in her heels in her current state than she did before she had a single drink. Nevertheless, I offer her my arm for balance. Yep, strictly for balance and not because I like feeling her hand looped in the crook of my elbow.
“Did you have a good time tonight?”
“So much fun,” she gushes. “I love those girls.”
When I guide her toward the elevator, she resists, tugging at my arm. “What’s wrong?”
She leans forward and whispers right in my face, “I need to go to the store.”
Shit, I’d forgotten about that. “If you want, I can take you up to the room and then go to the store for you.”
Jordie shakes her head, turning her hair into a blonde tornado around her face. “Nope. Gotta get them myself.”
Hmm, probably tampons or something, though that wouldn’t bother me. When my sister got her period for the first time, Dad and Rebecca were out of town, and I took her to the store to get the products she needed. But I don’t want to embarrass Jordie, so I lead her outside and to the mall next door.
“Is this okay?” I ask when we enter. “I think there’s a Walgreen’s at the other end.”
“There,” she says, pointing to a familiar pink-and-black storefront. “That’s where I need to go.”
I gulp down the golf ball in my throat. “You need to go to… Victoria’s Secret?”
“Uh-huh. I forgot to pack my panties.” She gets in my space again, and I can smell cherries on her breath as her big aqua eyes meet mine. “I didn’t even have any clean ones to wear tonight, so I had to go without.”
Holy fucking shit. This can’t be happening. She wants to shop for panties? And she’s going commando right now? My eyes shoot down to her crotch, as if I have X-ray vision and can personally check the veracity of her statement. If I survive this night, I’m going to need therapy.
“Okay, let’s go,” I tell her, resigned to getting this over with as quickly as possible.
We’re greeted by a clerk named Morgan who leads us to the panty section, and god help me, I’m in literal hell. Morgan, who I’ve decided is Lucifer herself, holds up a scrap of baby-pink lace masquerading as underwear.
“What about something like this?”
“Oh,” Jordie says, tilting her head to the side. “They’re pretty, but that’s not what I usually wear. I’m an athlete, so I normally buy for comfort. I just had a packing mishap and forgot to bring any.”
“Are you in town for a game?” the devil woman asks.
“No,” Jordie admits. “I’m just here for some meetings.”
“Hmm, we have some lovely cotton ones you might like, but no one said you have to wear those when you’re not playing, right?” Lucifer smiles wickedly and, for some reason, holds out the panties to me. My hands are firmly ensconced in my pants pockets, but like it’s compelled to do so, one of them escapes and takes the lacy thong. “Feel how soft they are?” she asks.
The lace is like butter between my fingers, and I’m picturing how these would look on Jordie’s tight little body. How the pale pink wouldbe set off by her tanned skin. How the lace would feel against my tongue when I was on my knees for her.
I become uncomfortably aware that I’ve been fondling these panties for way longer than necessary, so I practically throw them back. “They’re very nice, but it’s whatever Jordie wants.” I’m surprised my tongue even works since all my blood flow has migrated quite a bit south.
Jordie dips her head but glances up at me from beneath the fringe of her eyelashes before focusing on Lucifer again. “Okay, I’ll take those, but I would also like to get another couple pairs as backup.”
“Certainly. It’s always better to be safe than sorry. And we have a buy two, get one free sale right now.” She flourishes a hand like a demonic game show hostess. “We have a beautiful variety of colors. What’s your boyfriend’s favorite?” Morgan flashes me a grin forged from pure evil in the depths of Hades.
What the…I open my mouth to speak, but Jordie beats me to it, her words coming out in a rush. “He’s not my boyfriend. We’re just friends.”
“Oh, I apologize,” Morgan the Malevolent says, her face falling. “I just assumed because you seemed… never mind. Do you see any you like, Jordie?”
Jordie walks around the round table, and I follow like a panty-starved puppy. My eyes scan the selection, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from yelling out, “Get the fucking red ones, you beautiful siren.”
Jordie hums for a few seconds before saying, “I think I’ll take the purple ones and… the red ones.”
