I could have bought my own vibrator, I know-I walked past a sex shop every day on my way to work-but I didn't. The fact that it was Laura's toy made it twice as hot for me. It was part of her, I liked to picture her with it, and twice I'd burst into the bathroom accidentally on purpose while she showered, hoping for a glimpse of her naked body to fuel my fantasies. The secrecy was an added thrill. Okay, I'll admit it. I was getting a little addicted. I'd have been happy for things to carry on like this forever.
But two weeks rolled around, and it was my turn to do the laundry again. I brought the bag of Laura's clean clothes to her room.
"Sit with me while I unpack," she said.
Then she laid out those girl boxers on the bed in front of me.
"I don't remember wearing these for ages," she said.
"Oh," I said, gulping, my pulse racing between my legs as well as in my cheeks. Just looking at the panties took me back to the way it had felt that first time. Oh God, I was getting wet again.
"I'd been looking for them for a while. Kim, did you borrow them?"
"I might have," I said, resorting to the feeble child's denial that always means "Yes, guilty as charged."
"Because we don't usually borrow each other's underwear, do we?"
I couldn't meet Laura's eye, so I shrugged.
"That means that you've been rooting around in my underwear drawer, doesn't it? Have you seen anything? Anything you want to tell me about? Anything wrapped in a red silk scarf, for example?"