Shasta sends you to the drugstore to buy her condoms

Shasta says, "Trade you a kiss if, before we go back, you drive down to the drugstore. I ran out of supplies, and, you know, it's a small town, and people talk, so could you go in and get it for me?"

You smile. "I accept," you say.

Your town isn't that small, but Mary Forbes' place is out down a country road and the little business district nearby is small enough that people probably know all the regulars and might well gossip about them. Particularly pretty young women.

Shasta leans forward hesitantly. You meet her lips. It's a real kiss. She holds it firmly for a while, then breaks it. Not too hard, not too long, but real. You could go for some more of that, Cuervo or no Cuervo on her lips.

"What kind of supplies?" you ask.

She scribbles down a note. Two twelve-packs of lubricated condoms. A tube of lubricant. A box of tampons. She folds up a couple bills into the note.

You stop yourself before offering to pay. A bridge too far. Way too far.

"They really give you a hard time over stuff like this?" you ask Shasta.

"It's happened before," she says sourly.

You shake your head and shrug. "Sure, no problem then," you say. "You have plans?"

"Hopes," she says. It doesn't sound like you figure in them. Maybe you can turn her round on that. Of course if Mary catches you with her daughter...daughters?...well, cross that bridge when you come to it.

You park a block from the drugstore and take Shasta's note and money.

Use Get out of trouble (roll +cool) to do Shasta's favor without embarrassing Shasta or yourself.