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I tried hard not to show any sense of guilt. But she caught something in my eye and studied me like a lioness stalking a tasty gazelle with a limp. “It was mine you were reaching for, wasn’t it? Or were you going for that slut’s?”

Which slut’s? Had she seen Ms. Nuckeby? Not that Ms. Nuckeby was a slut—though she could be, I do hardly know her—but to Mindie’s mind, any woman who didn’t button her collar all the way to the top should be marked with the scarlet letter ‘S’.

“I…uh…” I stopped short, coming to the obvious realization that staying in port was likely the best course of action given the coming storm.

“As disgusting as it was,” Mindie continued when I didn’t, “you’d better have been going for mine, because the last thing I want is a husband who loses control like that over another woman’s…” she paused, “…you know.”

“I…uh…”

“Maybe that kind of thing happened before we got engaged, but I won’t allow it, now that we’re to be married. It would be highly disrespectful of me, you know, for you to be interested in other women’s…stuff. Especially some slutty, African prostitute.”

Aaah, I finally realized. NOT Ms. Nuckeby.

“Particularly if you were to become—aroused—like that again,” Mindie continued. “I don’t want a husband who can become— aroused—by other women’s boobs. Or any other body parts for that matter.”

She wanted a husband who was gay? Given her level of sexual interest, maybe she did.

Wait. What did that say about me?

“I wasn’t looking at either of you,” I said. “I was looking at the road actually.”

“Really? And how was it ‘the road’ made your…thingie…swell up like that? Hmmm?”

I paused, thinking fast, or rather, fast for me, which meant we might be here all day. What could I say had caused it? Trees? Nature’s beauty? Two gophers humping by the side of the road?

“I, uh…that is…uh…” I glanced down at The One-Eyed Thing With A Mind Of Its Own, and realized Odysseus’ escape from the harbor had been blocked by the Cyclops. Soon, Poseidon would be involved. I saw no other course of action except to change tack, quickly, before my boat was swamped by Mindie’s boulders.

“I’m sorry, Mindie. I just…I couldn’t help myself. Your…em…your…tits…are so magnificent. They overwhelmed me. Took me completely by surprise. Unlike that woman…” I nodded toward Ms. Waboombas, who was digging a finger in her ear with one hand, while the other hand was shoved down the back of her shorts and scratching her ass like it had five-pound fleas.

Wow. Who would have thought that could be sexually attractive?

I hitched, a bit; as little Corky visibly reared his ugly head yet again, damn him.

Mindie gasped. “Stop that!”

“It…uh…can’t be helped…my…eh…my darling.” I glanced at her chest area, now covered in mud, leaves, and rumpled Corky-shirt, and she tightened her grip on it as if she feared I were a closet candy connoisseur who might suddenly feel the need to sample her white chocolates. “They’re just…your boobs, that is, as opposed to her boobs—they’re just soooooo nice, and…”

“Eeeww,” she scrunched up her face in disgust. “I mean, yes, they are. But, oh, my God, you say it like you’re thinking about licking them or something.”

And that’s revolting, why?

Before last night, Ms. Nuckeby wouldn’t mind my thinking about licking hers. Or actually licking them for that matter, I’d bet.

Bloop.

Mindie gasped again at my expanding crotch, then looked around to see if anyone else had noticed. They were all too busy recovering from the impact with the ditch to care what my penis was doing.

“Can’t you control that?” she asked.

“I keep telling you…”

“What do I have to do, Corky? Stab you with a letter opener?”

“Um. No,” I said, surprised, and wondering how often she’d considered that. “It’s just a natural reaction, Mindie. An unconscious one. All I have to do is think of…nakedbreasts…your…nakedbreasts—that is, as opposed to…”

She winced and turned her head as if I were trying to feed her cough medicine.

I sighed. “You just don’t understand.”

“No, I’m afraid