Kiss and Tell 3 by Faith Winslow Read Free Book Online Page B

exhausted, and my body ached a little. But, I knew there was no way I’d be getting any sleep. I felt like a child on Christmas Eve. I couldn’t wait for tomorrow and what it could hold for me. I had the possibility of a job and a relationship—of some sort—on the horizon.
    Try as I might, I couldn’t fall asleep. Sure, I drifted off a few times, but I’d wake up just as quickly, and I couldn’t maintain anything solid or steady. After tossing and turning in bed for a couple hours, I decided to do something more useful with my time, and started sorting through other things in my room.
    I ended up collecting another bag of things for donation. This one was filled with stuffed animals, knickknacks, and home décor items. I set it with the others, near my bedroom door, around 7 a.m., which is when I finally felt like I’d be able to catch a few Z’s.
    I laid down, and, like a lightbulb hit with a baseball bat, in an instant, I was out. It felt like I’d only been sleeping a matter of moments when the alarm on my phone rang, alerting me that it was 9:45 in the morning… It was 9:45 on Wednesday morning!
    As exhausted as I still was, I jumped out of bed and headed straight for the bathroom. I wasn’t going to shower yet, since I didn’t want to start my day too much ahead of time, but I had to pee—and, then I was going to refill my bladder with a tall glass of orange juice.
    I took my time in the kitchen and sipped my orange juice, rather than chugging it. The schedule I’d laid out for myself already gave me some wiggle room, and I didn’t want to add to it by rushing myself. If anything, I wanted to take away from it—and, I guess that’s what I tried to do when I forced myself to try and eat one of Mom’s multi-grain protein bars for breakfast. (I gave up on it a few bites in, by the way.)
    When I got back up to the bathroom, it was probably around 10:15 or so, and I let the bathroom collect plenty of steam before I stepped into the shower. I took a nice, slow shower after that—the kind where I washed and rubbed every part of my body, including, and especially, those parts of our bodies we too frequently ignore.
    I also took the time to make sure that select portions of my body were clean and hairless. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you which ones, but I will anyway—my armpits, legs, and pussy. Though, I didn’t remove all the hair from that last part. I left a little tuft near the top, a tiny little marker. I was pleased with how it looked and felt from my perspective, and I hoped that Anthony would appreciate and enjoy it as much as I did.
    I went about the rest of my song and dance and got ready for the day ahead of me. It was 12:11 when I started lugging the donation bags out to my car, and I was happy that I was running behind my loose schedule.
    I ended up loading seven bags into my car, then ended up unloading them about 35 minutes later. That’s how long it took me to get from my house to the thrift store, which was in the same district as my other destinations.
    The staff at the thrift store seemed glad to receive my donations, though they could have been a little more helpful. I don’t know why, but I thought that if I was donating stuff, the people at the store were supposed to take care of my donation—and, by “take care of,” I mean carry.
    But, as it turns out, I was expected to take care of my donation. I told the worker at the dock door that I had several bags, and he gestured toward a donation bin at the other end of the garage.
    “Drop them in there,” he instructed as he turned away. He went over and sat on a plastic chair and took a clipboard into his hands, and I went back to my car and went on to carry the seven bags to the receptacle.
    After that unexpected delay, I found myself staring at a clock that read 1:38, with a growling stomach that demanded food. The first place I saw that seemed like it would have a decent menu was a little Mediterranean establishment that