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I followed her inside and headed right to my room. Even though my t-shirt was going to be too large for her, at least it would be clean. Finding one that wasn’t wrinkled or stained from work was another story. Opening my closet, I found a t-shirt I’d purchased from a ZZ Top concert years ago. It still had the tags on it. Taking it off the hanger, I pulled off the tags and headed back downstairs.
Knocking on the bathroom door, I said, “Randi, I have a clean t-shirt for you.”
The door opened slightly, and her tiny hand reached out for the shirt. I handed it to her, and she closed the door again.
“Damn it,” I heard her mutter through the door.
“Does it fit?” I asked.
She sighed. “It’s big but…”
“But what?” I asked.
The door opened and she stepped out. “My shirt had a built-in bra and this…doesn’t.”
Fuck!
Even though the t-shirt was loose, it clung to her breast, and I could see her hard nipples pressed against the cloth. My jeans became uncomfortably tight as the need in me grew.
“Sorry, I…I don’t have one of those,” I said, forcing myself to look away.
“At least you had a shirt for me. That’s better than nothing,” she said.
I’d love to see you wearing nothing.
She added, “I love ZZ Top. I went to see their 25-year anniversary tour.”
“Really? That’s where I got that t-shirt,” I said. Wonder if we were at the same concert?
Randi smiled. “I had one but lost it years ago.”
“I’m sure yours was a different size, but you’re welcome to keep this one,” I said.
“I can’t do that. This is a…treasure. I mean I remember that concert like it was yesterday. I went with my sister and we had VIP tickets. When they said we could go backstage and meet the band, I was ecstatic.”
“You must’ve loved that. Did they sign your shirt?” I asked.
“Nope. My sister got us kicked out even before we got backstage,” she sighed.
“You’re kidding me, right?”
She shook her head. “No. She decided to take off her shirt and throw it on stage while they were still playing.”
“Can’t be the first time someone has done that to them,” I replied.
“Her bra followed the shirt, and it got caught in the bass guitar while he was playing. Security escorted her topless self out and as the big sister, I felt obliged to go with her. Mostly just to keep her from getting in any more trouble,” she said. “You’d think that after all these years things would’ve changed, but they haven’t. She still goes wild at concerts.”
“And you’re still babysitting her?” I asked. Just like I do when I’m with Bob.
“No.”
“How did you get out of that?” I questioned, thinking maybe I could learn a trick to use with Bob.
“I stopped going,” I said.
“That doesn’t seem fair. I mean, if you enjoy concerts, you should still go,” I said.
“She was my concert buddy. No one else I know enjoys them like I do,” she stated.
