And now, San Francisco. Amazing how streets ran right up and down such steep hills. McMasters and his assistants had gotten there the night before, and were staying with his friend, Regina Wickelshaus. From what Tami gathered, she owned some kind of sex toy store. Tami had never been in a sex toy store, though she had seen them. They seemed sleazy, like dirty old men would go in there to jerk off under their coats. Ughh! Yet Dr. Wickelshaus (she was also a psychologist or something like that) had a manner like a high school health teacher, smiling gently at Tami, looking only occasionally at her naked body, as they settled in on her couch and chatted. And the house, modest and clean, was not at all sleazy. Regina (she made Tami call her that, even though Tami still felt like she should be calling her “Dr. Wickelshaus”) had referred briefly to Tami’s “religion” but didn’t ask her about it. Which was good. Dr. Wickelshaus was the kind of person it would be very hard to lie to.
The nicest thing about the visit was Regina’s daughter Sunny, who like Tami had also just finished her first year of college. Sunny was tall and dark-skinned -- her father, apparently divorced from her mother but still present in photographs in her room, was Mexican. In Sunny’s room the two girls played with her new computer and listened to radio stations from around the world, while looking up websites from their favorite stars. Sunny liked Leonardo DiCaprio, Tami was fond of Enrique Iglesias. Just two teenage girls acting like teenage girls, oohing and aahing at the pictures on the monitor, criticizing or praising the clothes. Sitting next to the sweatshirt-and-pants-clad Sunny, Tami totally forgot that she was naked as she hung out with her new friend.
What reminded her of her nudity was a photo of Sunny on her desk. Sunny was standing on the beach with a couple of her friends in bikinis -- and Sunny and one of her friends were topless! Tami admired Sunny for being so brave; she herself wouldn’t have taken off her top, way back when. And to have a picture like this out, it being apparently o.k. with her mom -- this open, tolerant, liberal house was worlds away from the conservative atmosphere back home. Tami retreated once again into thinking of her nakedness, and how she would give anything to wear just that little bikini bottom that Sunny had on in the photo.
Back to being a normal teenage girl. On a whim Tami clicked onto a picture of Carmen Electra in a thong. Sunny straightened up. Then Tami clicked onto a picture of President Bush. Sunny slouched. Click onto Tyra Banks. Up. Click onto an ad for Kotex. Down.
They both giggled as they realized they both knew this game. Penis man! “Pamela Anderson!” Sunny said. Tami hopped up, breasts bouncing, and stood straight up, arms at her side. “Pamela Anderson naked!” Tami stood up straighter, stretching toward the ceiling, eyes wide open. “Social studies homework.” Tami slouching a bit. “Studying with Alyssa Milano!” Back up straight.
Tami’s turn. By turns she got Sunny to stand, slouch, act pained, put on a wide lascivious grin. With “Alyssa Milano kissing Pamela Anderson on top of you!” Sunny reached the ultimate in upright stretching. Time for the kill. Tami went over and rubbed Sunny’s sweatshirt up and down. Sunny shook all over, then said, “Spurt! Spurt! Spurt! Spurt! Thhhbbb!!”
In a moment Sunny was lying the floor, limp. “Pamela Anderson!” Tami whispered into her ear. No response. “Naked!” No response. “I’m sticking you with a pin! Doink, doink!” she said, jabbing her finger into Sunny’s shoulder. No response. Then Sunny giggled and both girls fell into a pile on the floor.
As they sat cross-legged, Sunny said, “Stop me if you’ve heard this. There are three women waiting to see the obstetrician, all about twelve months pregnant. One says, ‘The doctor says I’m going to have a boy, because my husband and I did it, he was on top.’ The second one says, ‘I’m going to have a girl, because I was the one on top.’ The third one starts crying. The other two say, ‘What’s wrong’. She says” -- Sunny in a tearful voice -- “‘Oh no, I’m going to have a puppy!’“
Tami was puzzled, then got the joke. Riotous giggling. And now back to the internet.
“So, my naked friend,” Sunny said with a sly twinkle, both girls getting bored now that they couldn’t find any naked photos of Leonardo or Enrique, “I see you . . . shave.” The winked down toward Tami’s bare pussy.
Tami could not believe herself, but she stood up right in front of Sunny to give her a clear view of her bare, shaven pussy lips. Both girls looked down at it as Tami rubbed her fingers over the little cleft. “Go ahead,” she said, seeing Sunny’s curiosity. As Sunny ran a timid finger on one side she said, “It’s as smooth as it looks. I try that once in a while but it scrapes like hell when it starts to grow back.”
Still looking down, Tami said, “You have to use cream. Every day.”
Sunny recoiled. “Ewww . . .Doesn’t it sting?”
Tami nodded ruefully. “No getting away from it.”
Sunny went up to close the door, then stood in front of Tami. “I suppose someone like you wouldn’t mind,” she said with a smile. Then she pulled down her sweatpants and her flowered white panties. A ring pierced into one pussy lip, which she showed with a mixture of pride and shyness.
Tami immediately doubled over, covering her pussy, and started jumping around. “Akkk! Godd! Ouch!! Oooo!!” She squinted back at the ring again, a gold-colored thing with a little blue jewel. “Doesn’t it hurt?”
“At first it did,” Sunny said, hands on her hips as she turned to and fro to display her labial ring. “A lot of my girlfriends have them. There’s lots of stores in the Castro that do it. They dip everything in alcohol, it’s safe.”
“The where?” Tami had a fleeting image of Cuba.
“The Castro. The coolest place -- especially if you’re a gay guy,” she whispered. “I wish there was time to take you there.”
Hopefully someday, Tami told herself. On another visit, when I’m back in clothes. She made up her mind to write down Sunny’s address and phone for future reference.