Get some breakfast and an explanation

The buzzer of a dryer -- your dryer this time -- shakes you out of your shock. You stuff the strange woman's panties into the pocket of your sweatpants before loading up your own clothes and heading back to your car with every intention of going straight home. By the time you get the engine started, though, your stomach growls and reminds you that you haven't eaten all day.

You might as well salvage some of your lazy Saturday morning, so you stop at a small local diner for a proper breakfast, too hungry to bother worrying about how you're dressed. You suddenly regret your decision, though, when the waitress sees you and her customer service smile turns to a sneer.

"John? You look like shit!"

It's Ashley, an old friend from high school. You've mostly kept in touch through text, but between your job and her college work you haven't actually seen each other in a few years. You can't help but notice how good she looks in the simple uniform and apron.

"It's been a long day," you blush, trying not to stare.

"It's barely even 9am!"

You just roll your eyes and groan, your headache coming back as she points you to an open table and brings over a menu.

"You clearly need this," she laughs, pouring you a cup of coffee. "It's on the house if you tell me what's up."

You sigh and let it out, bitching about work and your alarm and your car and the headache, but you hesitate when you get to the laundromat, not sure how exactly to explain what happened.

"Ashley, you're a girl..."

"About time you noticed," she winks.

"Har, har," you lower your voice and wave her in closer, not wanting anyone to overhear. "Let's say, hypothetically, some stranger at the laundromat took your... underwear... out of the dryer. How would you react?"

Ashley squints suspiciously, "I'd probably slap him, scream, and call the cops. Why?"

"Because..." you sigh, hiding your face in your hands, "I might've -- completely on accident! -- done... that? Only she didn't slap me, or scream, or even freak out at all! She actually let me keep them???"

You're so worked up that you pull the panties out of your pocket and hold them up, before realizing that you're waving women's underwear around in public and hiding them again. Ashley, to her credit, just laughs in a casual way that almost uncoils the nerves in your gut.

"You never said it was you, John! Of course she let you keep them! You wanna jerk off with them, don't you?"

"N-no!" you insist, "Of course not!"

Her smile immediately fades. "Then what the fuck did you take them for? If you just wanted them to get off, that's no big deal. They're just... things... but why else would you want women's underwear?"

You stare at Ashley for a long time, taking a sip of the black coffee to wake yourself up a little more before trying to make sense of this conversation.

"You really think that's just normal?" you ask, speaking slowly and clearly. "A guy can steal a girl's clothes just to masturbate with them?"

"Not any guy," her nose wrinkles, "but if you want them? Why not? We get too caught up in our possessions anyway. I say she should thank you for lightening her load a little -- but only if you're gonna blow your load in them."

A gruff voice coughs from the back room, and Ashley jumps to attention.

"The manager doesn't like us chatting too long with customers," she shrugs, pulling out a pencil and paper. "What can I bring you?"