Somehow, you did it. You found all the out of print editions and read them. And then you picked the right character from among a virtual circus of choices. Some of the strangest folk you've ever met in print, but you guessed my favorite, and now Vixen has to pay up.
You had stewed and dithered, reading two of the books a second time, looking for clues. You had it narrowed down to three, and finally decided to take a shot.
We were ICQing one night when you typed a name on the screen, followed by "Is that it?" My icq chat screen went silent. Then a halting message appeared "get your day book." You laughed when you realized what had happened. You'd WON.
We negotiated the date. I sent you my itinerary. You sent back the name of the hotel.
I can't believe I'm doing this. In fact, I can't believe I made this ridiculous bet in the first place. I'm flying across the country to perform fellatio on a man I've never seen, because he was able to pick my favorite character in a series of books. I must be out of my mind. Completely wacko.
The most bizarre part of this is that I could have lied so easily, and told you it was someone else. I like any number of the Mongo characters, and maybe you wouldn't have known if I'd picked another one after the name flashed on your screen. Maybe. But I've never lied to you, and I think you might have known. If you knew enough to pick that one, you obviously know me well enough to spot a lie. And the whole truth is that I do want to meet you, so here we are.
I couldn't tell anyone what I was up to. They'd have had me committed. The man next to me asks innocently, "Are you traveling for business?" Yeah, right, monkey business of the first order.
Plane lands safely, and I grab a cab to the hotel. I wish I could take a shower. In addition to a terminal case of nerves, I've been in airports and planes for 5 hours, and I would really like to be clean when we finally do meet. Whatever possessed me to do this?
Deal's a deal, and I'm here now. I go to the front desk.
"I believe you have a package for Vixen."
The clerk smiles and hands me a beautifully wrapped box from behind the counter. There's an envelope attached. I move toward the elevators and open the envelope. Inside are 2 room keys and a note.
"I knew you would want to clean up. Use key #1 first. When you're ready, use key #2 on the connecting door. Take your time. Wear the gift. Phil"
What a nice man. He reads my mind. I go to the room, crawl out of my travel clothes and head for the shower. OH, wait -- the box -- what's in the box? Ribbons and wrapping paper fly. Ohmigosh. It's lovely. I'm so glad I will be clean when I put this on. It's wonderful. I love it.
To the shower. Hot, hot water washing away all the travel. I tidy up the shaved places, wash my hair, get clean inside and out. I stand in the shower with the water running down my back, using a soothing body wash. Its herbal formula smells wonderful, it's so relaxing, and the texture is so smooth.
As I run the washcloth under my breasts, I notice the white against my tan and think of your shirt. Of wearing your white shirt over nothing at all. And I think of what it will be like to have you in the shower with me, later. I finish the "cleaning" part of my shower and set the washcloth aside.