Dear Couple,

Sorry about that. I was drunk, not that I think that makes it OK or anything. I did think I would grab the panties as I left, rather than leave them under the tree like that. I hope you can understand that we were in a hurry, having only the amount of time one would reasonably assume it would take us to go around the block on a bicycle. I guess that would be about 10 minutes, which really isn’t enough time at all, even when you skip the kissing, which we did. Anyway, people were waiting for us, and for the bike, so there wasn’t time for cleaning things up afterward. Also, even if I’d found the underwear in the dark (and I would have liked to, because they fit well and didn’t dig into my fleshy parts, making me feel fat), my skirt didn’t have any pockets. I couldn’t very well show up back at the barbecue with a fistful of Jockey, could I? That would have been suspicious. Of course, I did regret it, leaving the panties behind. Regretted it almost immediately, actually, and not just for fear of my skirt flying up into my face as I balanced on the handlebars and he stood on the pedals pumping and panting us up the hill. I realized, clinging and swaying on the cold metal loop as I was, with face flushed, stray bark stuck to the back of my shoulder, and naughtiness erupting from my pores, that I hadn’t ridden on handlebars like this or even ridden a bike without a helmet like this since I was a little kid. That made me think that maybe you had a kid. I thought about your kid and how, after breakfast tomorrow, he would be sent out in the yard to play with your dog that bounds about, smelling things. And I saw a floppy golden pup named Lad, wagging and sniffing and whining on our spot under the tree. Then, of course, the boy is there, too, poking at my delicately flowered underwear with a stick, bringing it to you, asking questions. So, anyway, I’ve been meaning to write you and let you know that I did regret it, and I am sorry if, you know, explaining my underwear to your son was a bad moment for you, parenting-wise.

Sarah Johnson
New York, NY