#ItDoesn’tChafe
Part XI
‘Looks like we’re going to have a thunderstorm tonight.’ Gail was nowhere to be found. She was deathly afraid of thunderstorms. She’d been rehomed to Max and Ronnies and now lived with their pack permanently. ‘Poor girl is probably hiding under the bed already.’ They went and looked and found a pair of anxious eyes staring back at them, though inviting them to join her under the bed. There’s enough room. It gets lonely here.
‘Gail? Want ball?’ She thumped her tail, but didn’t move out from underneath the bed. There were no balls in sight. And she felt the oppressive barometric pressure. When Ronnie conjured up a tennis ball, she did launch herself from under the bed. Ball is Life! Ronnie lured her to the kitchen and living room, where the rest of the pack were.
‘Come on. Let’s go outside. We’re going to play!’ She opened the garden doors and went outside, as she was, in the nude. Ronnie secretly signalled Max to close the door behind her, after the whole pack and the two of them were outside. That way Gail couldn’t dodge back inside when the first crack of thunder would hit.
The yard was enclosed. The hedges were hiding metal fencing inside them. Ronnie got a basket of tennis balls and started throwing them willy nilly. A tornado of black and white floofs dove after them, making it look like they were doing acrobatics. Thunder cracked. Ronnie didn’t even see the lightning yet. ‘Here Gail! Ball! Good girl!’ Gail caught the ball and had forgotten about her fear of thunder.
Max walked up behind Ronnie and felt her up whilst her hands were busy holding the basket and chucking balls. ‘Does the legal definition of insanity also include standing outside in a thunderstorm chucking balls naked with your handsy girlfriend?’ ‘The handsy girlfriend is optional. It’s a plus.’ She kissed Max’s face by turning her head. Rain started falling. ‘You’re getting wet!’ ‘Uhm yeah, who’d have thought. .. do people get wet when standing outside in a thunderstorm?’ ‘Go inside, you’ll get sick.’
Max started disrobing herself. Each piece of clothing getting wetter as the downpour was getting serious. Ronnie walked to another basket of tennisballs, but not before she slipped a finger inside and then tasted her girlfriends’ juices, watered down by the rain. ‘Tastes like acid rain.’ She quipped. Max looked at her mock offended. ‘I’ll show you acid rain!’ ‘No! Really! No! If you pee on me, I’m telling your mom!’ ‘You wouldn’t!’ ‘I will!’ ‘Spoilsport.’ ‘Freak.’
A dearth of tennisballs had collected at their feet by now, and when Max tried to step closer to tickle Ronnie, she slipped and nearly fell over, if Ronnie hadn’t caught her hand. ‘These dogs will be the end of me.’ ‘Or pneumonia.’ Ronnie’s teeth chattered. The rain was cold. She’d hoped it’d be a warm summer shower. It wasn’t. ‘Come on floofs. Mommy’s wet. And not just because of the rain. We’re going inside.’ The pack followed. They used the kitchen towels to dry off the worst and then had to go to the bathroom to get regular bath towels to dry off their hair.
The two of them now wore a towel turban to let their hair steam dry and were busying themselves in the kitchen. Whilst Ronnie took care of the dog’s dinner, making sure she was distracting Gail from the thundercracks, Max prepared their own dinner. She uncorked a bottle of wine. And poured two glasses. When Ronnie saw that, her eyes grew large. ‘I’d forgotten! I’m allowed to drink!’ She said excitedly. ‘Within moderation of course, but yeah. You’re officially cured.’ Max replied and toasted her as she gave Ronnie the other glass.
Dinner for the humans was fingerfood that they took to the fireplace. They turned it on with a button press and turned on the TV. The dogs were wiping their snouts on the couch and the blanket that the two of them sat on, expressing their appreciation for the dinner. Ronnie and Max cuddled into each other, sipped their wine and quietly fondled each other. Just enough to keep the blood there. Not enough to distract from the plot. Life was good. Shame about having to wear clothes again though. .
(continued in part XII)