Chapter 6

I had to send Sally back to the bathroom for her missing bra. I hated doing it, but the blouses I had purchased for her the day before were simply not adequate to the task of containing her breasts — not without some help from undergarments within.

I explained to her that we could shop that day with an eye toward outfits that might allow her to lose the bra. But not this particular blouse. Not without some protection against being attacked on the streets of Honolulu.

I called the law firm in San Francisco and spoke to the attorney who was guardian of the Gervais family assets. I let him know that Sally was indeed an orphan. I asked him to make available $3,000 from her family's funds for Sally's use in outfitting herself. He readily agreed and promised an immediate transfer to my account, but he suggested we wait until we returned to San Francisco before doing too much shopping.

"That's good advice," I agreed, "but remember, this young woman has nothing. No shoes, no clothes, no underwear, no suitcase — nothing!"

"So, OK, fine. Get her some basic stuff. But bring her around when you get home. I got a wife. I got two daughters. They can probably help her a lot better than you can with stuff like that."

Well, he was right about that. But we went shopping anyway.

Breakfast had been a busy affair, with the hotel dining room crowded and shockingly noisy, even to me. I guess I was becoming more sensitive to such things. I could tell that Sally was a bundle of nerves, out here in The World with no protection except for Brian Connor, Rescue Boy.

"You'll get used to it," I kept telling her. "It's new to you now, and weird, but it'll start feeling natural after awhile."

The food was good. That helped. This young woman was trim and fit, but, boy, she could put it away! Maybe pancakes had a calming influence.

I explained to Sally that she would do best to wait until we reached California to make major clothing purchases. The women she would meet there would be better able to advise her. There were matters of fashion about which I could offer no useful assistance.

For the moment we would rely upon Honolulu sales girls, and I would do my best to make initial good choices about appropriate women's clothing stores in which she would shop.

Everything went smoothly until Sally saw the swimsuit.

It was a tiny red bikini. It was very attractive, and it must have been well-made, because it cost $125. If it wasn't well-made, it must have had a hell of a designer's label attached. But where could one attach a label to such a tiny bathing suit?

Then it occurred to me. That suit wouldn't do.

"I don't think that's the suit for you," I told Sally.

"But why? It's beautiful!"

"It is beautiful, and you'd look wonderful in it," I agreed. "But it's too ... brief."

"At home, for swimming I wore nothing!" Sally said.

I gave that a moment of silent contemplation. "Yes, I know. But we both know that out here in the World, you cannot wear -- nothing."

"This is what I want to wear!" she said.

"There's a problem," I said.

"What?"

"Women who wear this kind of bathing suit -- they must be

shaved."

"Shaved?"

"Yes. Your -- you would need to shave, to trim back your hair -- on your -- on your..."

"Oh! On my pussy! Yes! It is far too hairy for such a suit!"

I looked around, nervously. "Keep your voice down, Sally!"

"But -- I could shave!" she said.

"Yes."

"I have never."

"Yes, I noticed," I said.

"I would need -- help," Sally said.

"Help?" I said. I think my voice quavered a little.

"Yes! From you. Help to do the shave. To shave me. I would need your help."

"Umm. I don't know about that, Sally. Maybe we'd better, y'know, go see somebody at a beauty shop or something."

"But. We only have today! Tomorrow, we must fly back to California," she said.

"Yes. But. I don't know anything about -- shaving. Let's find a beauty parlor. There must be somebody who does this sort of thing. A professional."

"I would rather have you, to do it."

"Sally. You know that it's too -- personal. It's the kind of thing we still need to talk about. We need to talk about it a lot. I don't think, with all the swimming you've done for the past twelve years, that you need to go swimming here in Honolulu. I think you could wait until we get back to California. There are beaches there. I'll take you to one. You can buy the suit — but not to wear here in Hawaii!"

"I will try it on!" she said. "I must see that it fits properly. And I must see how much I will need -- to shave."

"All right," I said. I was glad it was going to be Sally's own $125 buying that thing.

I wondered if I had spent $125 on bathing suits, collectively, in my lifetime.

I waited outside the dressing room while Sally went in to try on the suit. I didn't expect her to come out and model it for me, but she did. Sally kept surprising me.

She looked sensational in the suit. Her breasts were magnificent, and the tiny suit accented them to the point of near-indecency.

The bottom, however, was grossly inadequate to the task of containing her ample, hyper-hairy vaginal area. There was curly black hair in evidence everywhere.

My pants were getting tight again.

"If you get it, you'll have to trim away an awful lot of your hair," I reminded her. I wasn't at all certain that I wanted that to happen. I was becoming inordinately fond of Sally's Sixties-style decoration.