FOY inc -5- Shower (Patreon)

Albert’s head rested on my knee, and I scratched the hard knobs on his skull with my long nails. Looking out the windows at blurry objects speeding by made me dizzy, so I watched Gordon. In profile, he looked sort of dramatic, like a movie hero.

“Did you remember any more?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Just being in the water and being cold.”

He looked sideways at me. “Someone must know you’re missing. They’re probably looking for you. And,” he paused. “Well, any description of you is going to be pretty memorable.”

I glanced down at my chest and giggled. “Short blonde with huge tits and purple eyes?”

“Uh, well,” he murmured. “You know what color eyes you have?”

I pointed at the outside mirror on the passenger side. “Uh, huh.”

He reached a hand over and flipped down the sun visor, showing the vanity mirror there. “Huh?” I said. Why hadn’t I thought of that? I peered into the mirror, turning my face this way and that. As I had seen before, my face was an oval with a soft round chin, big amethyst-colored eyes, and full pouty red lips.

I kind of just missed being beautiful because I was just so darn cute. With my two ponytails, I looked like an anime heroine. Anime? I had images of cartoon characters in my mind and some cultural connection to—Japan? Okay. But just because I was cute didn’t mean I wasn’t also sexy. I opened my mouth and looked at the silvery balls lined up on my tongue. I sighed.

“Did a name come to you?” Gordon asked.

“No,” I said. “Wait a minute.” I stared into my face, my eyes, looked at my hands with my painted nails and the ring on my pinkie. “Amethyst,” I said. It fit. “It might even be part of my name?” Definitely a girl’s name, but I was definitely a girl.

“Amethyst,” he said. “Can I call you Amy for short?”

I pretended to measure how tall I was with a hand over my head. He laughed, and I shrugged. “Sure,” I agreed. Amy. It felt right in one way and horribly wrong in another. I should be named Bob or Jake or Harold. Something male. But there was nothing male about me.

Sighing, I folded the mirror up and put the sunshade back. Then couldn’t resist unfolding it all again to look at myself. I pulled on my hair, looking at my roots. Blonde to the bone, apparently. I stared some more, looking at my eyes. The color still looked preposterous, too dark for someone so blonde.

Was I wearing eye makeup? How could I be, after what must have been a long time in the ocean? I got the hand mirror out to get a closer look, but I still couldn’t tell. It looked like I was wearing some—the kind where a line is drawn on the eyelid, right next to the eyelashes. I blinked several times, but I just couldn’t tell for sure. When I got really close for a good look, it got all blurry.

“You keep squinting,” Gordon observed.

“Everything is a little bit blurry,” I complained. “Especially if it’s far away or really up close.”

“Do you usually wear glasses?” he asked.

“I dunno,” I said. “Squinting is bad?”

“You shouldn’t squint,” he said. “Maybe we can get you some glasses.”

I tried to summon up the memory I had had before of a male face. Had it been wearing glasses? But I couldn’t get a clear image in mind, and even what I could summon up seemed less than real. Was I forgetting my male self? Or just giving up on my delusion?

I took out the hand mirror and looked at my girl face. How would I look with glasses? Maybe a pair with big circular lenses like an anime character? That would look cute. Why did I care if I looked cute? And why did I glance over at Gordon?

The truck made a sudden turn, and it’s a good thing I was buckled in, or I would have ended up sitting on Albert. We bounced a couple of times and made another turn before stopping. It was still raining but not heavy or anything, just a light pattering that made things seen through the windows even more blurry.

Gordon hopped out of the truck and came around to my side. I tried to get the door open, but it wasn’t happening. Gordon was laughing as he pulled out his key and unlocked the door. “You keep locking the door then trying to open it,” he said.

“I do?” I said. “How do I work it then?” I asked.

He showed me how to unlock the door from inside then work the door latch. It really wasn’t that hard. “I’m just stupid,” I said, and he laughed again. I giggled because he had a nice laugh, and I liked hearing it.

“Can you work the seat belt with those nails?” he asked. “Let me do it. You wouldn’t want to break a nail. Those are so beautiful.”

Albert had scrambled out as soon as the door was opened, knocking the flip-flops out onto the ground. Gordon picked them up and slipped them on my feet. I held my arms out to him, and he picked me up off the truck seat. He gave me another unexpected kiss before setting me down beside the truck.

Unexpected but not unwelcome. It was so brief that I felt as if I had been left leaning, like some poorly planned architecture. Off-balance, I took a step to get my feet under me and just gawped up at him. Did I want him to do that again? I could feel my nipples crinkling. Apparently, I did.

“Let’s get out of the rain,” he said, grabbing the bag of small items and the zipper sweatshirt off the seat.

I was too bemused by the kiss to react and just stood there, not really looking around, but kind of staring, first one way then another. As a guess, we were behind a house somewhere near the edge of town. Scraggly shrubs grew close to the building with taller and heavier trees a little further away. No neighbors that I could see, but I didn’t see much. Tired-looking grass grew in a wide yard, and Albert had begun a patrol of the fenced boundaries.

Gordon took my hand, and we walked through the side yard to some steps where he used his keys to let us into a sort of utility porch.

“Is this your house?” I asked. I was trying not to think about the kiss and maybe how I could get him to do it again. You know, just for comparison.

“My father actually owns the house,” he said. “But I live here.”

Through another door and we emerged in a bright kitchen with yellow-enameled appliances and a wooden table. It looked clean but lived in.

“Let me show you to the bathroom, so you can clean up,” he said.

I followed him through the house. “Do you have, uh, shampoo and—and—the other stuff?” I pulled at my hair. It was really beginning to bug me, how dirty it was.

“Conditioner?” he guessed. “Sure, maybe not the kind you’re used to using, but it’ll do until we can do some more shopping.” He grinned back at me. “We’ll have to get you some proper girl soaps and things,” he said, sending tingles through me. Why? I dunno.

We went through a bedroom, a very masculine place with pale gray walls, dark blue bed cover, and heavy wood furnishings. “This is the master bath,” he said, leading me into another room. “It’s got a tub and a shower. The other bath has only a shower, and it isn’t as nice.”

“Okay,” I said. As far as I remembered, this was the only bathroom I’d ever seen, but that couldn’t be right. It seemed nice enough, but what did I know?

“Probably easier to wash your hair in the shower,” he said, reaching into that space and turning a tap. “This one is the hot water,” he said. “We’ll let it get warm, but it won’t take long.”

He showed me where towels and washcloths were and filled the shower caddy with soap, shampoo and conditioner before hanging it from the little hook inside. He left the bag of combs and brushes by the sink and got out of the room, calling back through the door, “If you throw your clothes out here, I’ll get the sand out of them if I can. Then we can go out shopping for you again.”

I quickly shed the clothing I had worn for less than half an hour and tossed it out through the door before closing it again. I’m naked, I thought, it’s like I’ve spent half my life naked. So far. That made me giggle again.

I resisted running out into the hallway to look for Gordon. He’d already seen me naked, lying on the beach. I looked at myself in the long mirror on the back of the door. Cute blonde with big tits and purple eyes. Yep, that’s me. I turned this way and that for a moment, posing.

I am sexy, I thought, even if I’m almost too cute. Did Gordon think I was sexy? Or just slutty? I knew he was interested, and I was, too, but I really needed to get rid of all the sand. And the water was already running.

I undid my ponytails and jumped in the shower, letting the clean water sluice off all the dirty sand I could. There was one of those handheld attachments so you can make the spray go right where you want, and I used that in the places I didn’t use to have places.

“Oop!” That was kind of exciting and embarrassing at the same time. How can I be embarrassed if no one can see me? Still, way too exciting. I decided that I might be right about how much fun being slutty could be. Don’t giggle in the shower with your mouth open, you could drown, I warned myself.

Soaking my hair took some time, there was so much of it. With it wet in a rope hanging down my back, it reached all the way down to mid-thigh. And it weighed a ton! I struggled with it to get shampoo worked into the mass and then to get the shampoo rinsed out. Twice!

At least the rest of me got pretty clean in the struggle. All I had to do was get the conditioner applied, let it work and then rinse that out. Next time, I decided, I would have someone else to help me with all this hair.

And how was I ever going to get all of it dry?