Like Warm Sun on Nekkid Bottoms - Charles Austen [40]
“You remember my young friend, Wilhamina Morgenfraugen? She and I met in the office showers. We were both naked. She asked to borrow a tampon. And yet we’ve been friends ever since. In spite of the fact that her boobs are much nicer than mine. It’s all about context, Corky. Context and how much elasticity you’ve left in your skin.”
“But elasticity, tampons, and impressive breasts aside,” I said, “that’s far more socially acceptable than Ms. Nuckeby’s willingness to undress in a closet with a complete stranger. Two complete strangers if you count Woodruff.”
“Woodruff is two complete strangers all on his own,” she said, shuddering herself. “You never know, Corky. Maybe nudity and being open about her sexuality doesn’t mean to her what it does to you. After all, she does bare all in her profession on a regular basis, and clearly she’s more comfortable with it than you are.”
She waited—noticed I wasn’t quite buying it—then leaned in and kissed my cheek.
“Well,” she said. “It’s your life. But honestly, I’m convinced that unreleased semen interferes chemically with brain activity in males. So don’t make any rash decisions you’ll regret later until after you’ve masturbated and given it some additional thought.”
I laughed. She laughed. Then she got up to leave. I missed her comforting arm the instant she removed it.
“I will give your grandfather credit for one thing,” she said. “He’s right—it would help if you knew her better. Help you. The rest of us don’t matter. If you spent more time with her, you might find there were good reasons for her behavior that have nothing to do with being a gold-digger. In fact, the simple answer might be that she’s…”
She stopped. Her eyes widened. She seemed to think of something or remember something, and slowly smiled a rather grand and affecting smile.
“I have to go,” she said hurriedly, and raced for the door before I could ask her what she was going to say. She bumped into Mindie on the way out, and they bounced off one another repeatedly as each tried to squeeze through first.
“I’m coming in!” Mindie snarled.
“And I’m going out!” Helena responded, equally churlishly.
They struggled momentarily—Helena partially pinned by trying to avoid contact with Mindie’s rather massive breasts—until Mindie finally managed to shove past and into the room. Collecting herself and breathing hard, she glared a moment at Helena, eyes visibly red from crying, then turned with a huff and strode toward me, supported by Grandfather, who had followed her in past Helena.
“Where are you going?” Grandfather asked his sister pointedly. “We’re going to talk to Corky, now.”
“I have to see to something,” Helena said and then paused, looking at Mindie nervously. “Something urgent.”
Mindie was sniffing dramatically and leaking fluids from various facial orifices. Why was she so distraught?
“Corky,” Helena said to me, her smile vanished and she didn’t seem at all pleased. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret until you know more about your model.”
Mindie shot Helena a look of withering death at the mention of ‘your model’, as did Grandfather. Helena sneered back at them, then quickly darted out the door and disappeared.
I scowled, not getting any of this. It was a very confusing, and uncomfortable night.
I wanted to go back to thinking about sheep.
“Are you all right?” I asked Mindie.
“I will be,” she said, sniffling sadly. “And I forgive you. After all, a man needs to get a certain amount of wildness out