Like Warm Sun on Nekkid Bottoms - Charles Austen [78]
Come on! You don’t even have to look! He married her because she looked great in a swimsuit! And based on the swimsuits she wore, clearly out of one as well.
Now, it is conceivable that Mindie herself might look somewhat fetching in fashionable swimwear, if you discounted her refusal to be seen in the sun, her aversion to the two-piece, and her permanent Pillsbury Dough Boy complexion that is.
Ms. Nuckeby, on the other hand, would undoubtedly look amazing in a swimsuit. If she ever wore one, which I was beginning to doubt. And that only lent credence to the idea that she was in it for the money. She was hot!
And yet, some nagging niggling little something was still trying desperately to tell me I was wrong. Not that Ms. Nuckeby wasn’t hot, but that she was truly loveable, and more genuinely interested in me than Mindie ever could be. It was an insistent thought that kept scratching away at the back of my mind like an irritating little Chihuahua that wants to be let in, even though nobody’s home.
It must be my libido. You can’t trust the libido, you know. On some level, the libido wants to be poor so that it never has to wear clothes.
As I turned to follow Mindie, I looked at her very full and exceedingly well rounded behind and tried to picture it naked. But the image wouldn’t come, even though it was barely covered in thin, matronly underwear, and already fairly well exposed. Probably because all I could think of was Ms. Nuckeby’s entire nude body from all sides—touching me—rubbing against me…
Gloop.
DAMN YOU, LIBIDO!
As if she had a sense for it, Mindie turned around, right on cue, and caught the rising of my tides.
“Dammit, Corky, stop that!”
Irritated, she covered her rear end with her hands, picked up speed and hurried away from me as though I were giving off radiation.
“Just don’t look at me if that’s going to keep happening,” she said.
I watched her storm up the rise toward the car; absorbed in the way her panties quickly rode up the crack of her muddy, wiggling ass, and found myself not the least bit aroused by the image.
In fact, just the opposite happened.
Well. At least I might have found a way to prevent erections, and thereby keep us from being ostracized by decent society.
All I had to do was look at my wife.
We returned to the Duesenberg, which was fairly well smunched in front, and rather deeply embedded in the tree trunk and muddy ditch. It was leaking coolant and spewing steam, and I couldn’t be less interested. Unable to control my feelings and desires, I kept looking away to see if Ms. Nuckeby might have heard the accident and come running. The thought of her sprinting, naked, invigorated me like Mindie’s bunched undies and Ms. Waboombas endlessly exposed breasts could never do, and little Corky sprang forth again, rather overenthusiastically.
If I ever did want to have children with Mindie, I would clearly have to spend a lot of time reminiscing about Ms. Nuckeby beforehand.
“You were right,” Ms. Waboombas said to me, eyeing the evidence. “It ain’t dinky.”
“CORKY!” Mindie snarled. “What did I just say to you?”
With the pastor’s, Ms. Waboombas’, and Morgan’s help, we got the car out of the ditch and back onto the road, while Mindie sat in the moist grass shredding leaves and offering guidance. Safely back on the edge of the highway, I left the others and walked the few hundred feet back to read the road sign I’d missed moments earlier due to Ms. Nuckeby’s gloriousness.
Before even glancing at whatever was written on the marker, I checked the wooden stairs for any signs of life, naked or otherwise. The wooden planks twisted and turned their way downhill through the various shrubs, stones, and bushes for maybe a hundred yards until they reached bottom, disappearing into a grove of trees that blocked any view of the beach.
Ms. Nuckeby was nowhere to be seen.
The temptation to race down there and find her was near to overwhelming. The need to look at her, to be near her, to smell the purified air around her, ran like hot razor blades through the soft meat of my heart.