scutepink

[Hi.  I missed you too.]

The other night Robbie emailed me to tell me that for my next visit, I should plan to bring–sorry, I was required to bring–white cotton schoolgirl panties and hair ribbons.  (“Colors (in priority in case they cost too much to buy all at once): pink, white, red, black and green.”  He is nothing if not precise.)

The requirement that I provide things for Robbie’s increasing interest in costumes (one that I share) was super-hot to me.  The prospect of trying to find ribbons in my new and urban environment, on the other hand, was surprisingly daunting and inspired a fit of hysteria out of all proportion to the task.  (As I’ve noted before, tasks, no matter how small they are, really don’t seem to work well for us at distance; I go into insta-meltdown, and he ends up wondering why something intended to be sexy and fun turns into emotional crisis.)

I still don’t know where I’ll get the ribbon, since I’m thinking that the corner Starbucks and 24-hour CVS, my go-to sources for all that is essential, won’t be of use.  But I’m determined to try to find something for whatever nefarious purposes Robbie has in mind.  I have every intention of being the most irresistible schoolgirl he’s seen in some time.  And I’m hoping if I’m good enough, he might even use a few of the ribbons elsewhere on me (wrists, ankles . . . ).

pink-pantsu