Like Warm Sun on Nekkid Bottoms - Charles Austen [73]
Then I saw the sign indicating the city limits. I could just make it out in the distance. We were close. All I needed was to reach that town, find a toilet, put my head inside, repeatedly slam the lid and this would all be over.
“I’ve made more than his breathing—hard—plenty of times,” Mindie said, returning to kneeling backward in her seat and facing Ms. Waboombas, yet again tempting fate in oh-so-many ways. “I just pretended not to notice.”
“Breathe hard like that?” asked Waboombas. “Like he wanted to fuck you so bad he…”
“MISTER WIGGEN!” The pastor yelled. “HAVEN’T SEEN YOU IN CHURCH LATELY!”
“AND YOU NEVER WILL!” replied Morgan.
Between the approaching sign and us was a woman wearing a pretty, violet sunhat walking away from us along the edge of the road. I’ll bet she was calm and demure, and obeyed seatbelt laws.
“He wants to—as you so eloquently put it—fuck me very badly,” Mindie said, losing some of the ‘in-your-faceness’ by lowering her voice at the dirty parts. “I mean, really. What do you think you’ve got that I haven’t?” Mindie asked, glancing down at her own fleshy adornments.
“Oh, please,” Ms. Waboombas said, spreading herself out on display. “Look at me.” She paused as if it should be self-evident. Mindie’s expression said otherwise. “I’m long, lean, and hot. You’re tubby, saggy, and pale!”
“I am NOT!” Mindie shrieked.
Near the sign, I could see that the woman in the sunhat was heading towards some old, wooden stairs near the sign that led down to the beach. Would that I could be there beside her that I might throw myself down them.
“I am young, and firm,” Mindie howled. “And naturally so because I am in the prime of my life, unlike you! You’re old! You’re plastic. You’re fake. From your eyelashes to those phlegms on your chest…”
“Pflemmels. And they’re nicer than your droopy boopies.”
As we drew closer to the woman on the side of the road, I began to imagine myself walking beside her, sharing the tranquility of the ocean scenery. Maybe holding her hand and not throwing myself down the stairs.
“I doubt that,” Mindie sneered. “Phony is no substitute for real. You said so yourself.”
“I was lying to make you feel better,” said Ms. Waboombas, lifting her shirt and exposing her truffles. “I mean, come on! Look at these!”
I could see the pastor do so, slyly out of the corner of his eye in my rear-view mirror. Morgan had never stopped. Personally, I had seen enough of them. I refocused on the woman in the sunhat and let myself get lost in the calmness of her. We were very close to her now, and I could see she had a lovely walk—a beautiful figure—
—And she was naked.
NAKED? Oh, dear God, what ELSE could go wrong this day?
“I’ve seen them,” Mindie said, becoming irrational. “Most of the western hemisphere has, undoubtedly, seen your boobs. It’s not like you hide them or anything.”
“Because they’re worth seeing!” Ms. Waboombas said. “Why do you hide yours?”
“I don’t hide them! I simply show some personal restraint! Unlike YOU!”
“You’re afraid to show them! Afraid people wouldn’t be as impressed if they knew how saggy-baggy and pasty they were.”
“They are NOT saggy-baggy and pasty!”
I could no longer hear them. I was riveted in every way by the nude woman on the side of the road. I studied her intently—her gentle curves, her delicate features, her tight, naked ass (Hey, I’m a man not a poet). I watched, unblinking, as she turned and began to descend the stairs, completely unaware of how desperately I needed her to stop where she was and just continue being lovely.
“Even Corky likes mine better than your saggy-ass tits,” Waboombas shouted.
“He does NOT!” Mindie yelled.
“He does TOO.”
“Does NOT!”
“Does TOO!”
“CORKY?”
The woman in the hat was magnificent. A haven in my personal storm. I wanted to walk naked beside her, down to the shore, into the ocean, and swim to Korea.
“Tell her she’s WRONG, Corky!” Mindie called.
“He’s AFRAID to!”
“CORKY?”
“CORKY?”
“Hard, and fake!”
“Saggy, and pale!”
“Better than yours.”
“In your dreams!”
“These are real!”
“Oh, come on! LOOK AT THESE!”
Waboombas