Anarkali and I regularly daytripped to New York, and one day we found ourselves in a shop where moderately expensive, custom made new wave clothes and accessories could be had. She bought a modest yet well concieved camisole, and then we talked to the gay owner about some custom hats.
We had decided to bring something special back to Margaret's. Since our circle gathered in her Orientale room, we thought it would be fun to have some hats made up for all those present to wear. I pulled a picture from my jacket of the painting with the nude and the fierce souave, and we ordered up five hats in the style on the souave's head, brocade fabrics, a big tassle, etc. Then, just for fun, we ordered up a hat that looked more like something a chubby Turk in an Aubrey Beardsley drawing would wear. More of a big flat pillow that could be worn on the head, and very funny. Anarkali picked up the tab after I negotiated the price, and a few weeks later, they arrived at her dorm room, UPS.
Bringing something special to Margaret's was something that we expected of each other, all the time. That something special was often an unusual food item or exotic drink of some kind. It was a suggestion of something nutty or deviant to do, a new game to play or song to learn. We gathered at Margaret's every week, Jo, Annie, Anarkali, Margaret, and myself, and cooked and drank and studied... and studied... and studied. At some point we would tire of studying (unless a paper or project was due) and we would light an endless number of candles and settle into the Orientale room to drink and share...
We'd share a story, read a passage, sing a song, confess a debauch, lay out a complicated proposal, etc., all the while drinking, wearing a selection of Margaret's collection of exotic robes, open, and naked underneath. Anarkali and I presented the hats to the group with much ceremony, amid comically girlie claps and squeals of delight from the girls. The hats went on immediately and the Satrap's Hat went into the center of the gargantuan coffee table. We decided that whoever's turn it was to share or tell or recite or perform or demand would wear the satrap's hat to indicate their command of that moment.
That night, Jo told the story of being a lesbian jock at Penn. I remember it as clearly as if it was told last night. Jo was either on every possible women's sports team or, more often, served in some sort of assistant team manager's position. She stood at one point, her robe open and the silly Satrap's Hat on her head, and described entering the shower room, eyes on fire and nostrals flared, and extending her arms like an Indian chief speaking to the Great Spirit, she would turn slowly in the hot shower, hands clenched into fists. It was a power that roared through her body like slow lightning. As she would slowly open her eyes, she would see one or two freshman team mates who couldn't take their eyes off of her. She would approach one, slowly, steadily, extend one arm and slowly slip it around her waist. The girl would be frightened of her own sexuality, breathing in short panting breaths. Jo would bring her face up to the girl's, cheek to cheek, and then pull back slowly till their lips were touching, and let the girl kiss her, which she always did. It was an animal dance, very romantic, and Jo shivered as she told the tale.
Annie broke the spell by shreiking and jumping up onto the coffee table and pushing Jo over onto the cushy divan, then pounced on her and drank her kisses. They rubbed pussies and came amazingly fast, then panted and laughed and came back to the circle.
"Well", said Anarkali, in a sort of Jack Benny style. She took the Satrap's Hat and told a tale of our lovemaking, which I admit that I loved to hear. Anarkali wasn't a virgin when we met, but had never had good sex until our first night together. When she told a tale of our passions, it became an epic story, incredibly romantic. We really did plan some beautiful times together, but in her tales I was almost a prince and she certainly sounded like a princess. To hear this proper Indian lass put words and all the details to the actual sex acts was always funny.
