The Secret of the Drinking Camel
Title: The Secret of the Drinking Camel
Author: bugs
Word Count: 463
Rating: T (but a naughty subject!)
A/N: After my pathetic attempt and Take Charge!Bill, back to the normal programming. Inspired by kastari on several counts.
~*~
When he entered his quarters, he expected to find her reclined on the couch, a cool cloth on her forehead. Instead he found her with his collection of Heperian erotic woodcut prints spread across the cushions and she was avidly examining them.
She didn’t even bother to look guilty as he shut the hatch with a loud clang.
He tried humor to diffuse the situation. “You know, I thought one of the rules of living together was to not snoop. You might not be comfortable with what you find.”
She turned the print of the Backward Turtle position, furrowing her brow in confusion. “Who told you that?”
“My ex-wife.”
“There you go.” She placed the print carefully on the coffee table and picked up one with the Flying Squirrel position. “I wasn’t snooping like some nosy wife. I was putting away my clothes like you told me to.”
“I had cleared out three drawers. I didn’t realize you would need more room.” He gathered up the prints from the table, looking around for their leather portfolio.
“I prefer the lowest drawer. I was just moving some things around. I didn’t think you’d mind.”
For some reason, he felt defensive as he tucked away the prints he could rescue. “Of course not.”
She held up the Sleeping Cats print. “How do you think they do that? My lower back never bent in that direction, not even when I was twenty-one and did yoga every day.”
“I guess there’s only one way to find out.” He couldn’t believe his daring and waited for her reaction breathlessly.
She tossed aside the print. “Bill, don’t be silly.”
Twisting his neck, he examined the position. He supposed she was right. He was as far from cat-like lithe as a man could be.
“I’m just so surprised you’d have something like this.”
She leaned back. “I had you pegged as a few well-kept issues of Nymph sort of guy.” She swept her hand over the prints. “Not a historical pornography collector.”
“These are art prints with an erotic subject! I’m not getting off to them!”
“So that’s why they were at the bottom of your bottom drawer?” She quirked her eyebrow at him and he could only press his lips together in an obstinate line.
She sighed. “More the shame then. Perfectly good naughty pictures going to waste.” Peering at him over her glasses, she said, “A wise woman once told me, erotica is a feather; pornography is the whole chicken.”
He blinked.
She tossed aside her glasses. “You won’t have a chicken, but I don’t suppose you have a feather?” she asked in a tired voice.
He blinked again. He carefully flipped through his portfolio. “No, but I know the secret of getting into the Drinking Camel position.”
~*end
Author: bugs
Word Count: 463
Rating: T (but a naughty subject!)
A/N: After my pathetic attempt and Take Charge!Bill, back to the normal programming. Inspired by kastari on several counts.
~*~
When he entered his quarters, he expected to find her reclined on the couch, a cool cloth on her forehead. Instead he found her with his collection of Heperian erotic woodcut prints spread across the cushions and she was avidly examining them.
She didn’t even bother to look guilty as he shut the hatch with a loud clang.
He tried humor to diffuse the situation. “You know, I thought one of the rules of living together was to not snoop. You might not be comfortable with what you find.”
She turned the print of the Backward Turtle position, furrowing her brow in confusion. “Who told you that?”
“My ex-wife.”
“There you go.” She placed the print carefully on the coffee table and picked up one with the Flying Squirrel position. “I wasn’t snooping like some nosy wife. I was putting away my clothes like you told me to.”
“I had cleared out three drawers. I didn’t realize you would need more room.” He gathered up the prints from the table, looking around for their leather portfolio.
“I prefer the lowest drawer. I was just moving some things around. I didn’t think you’d mind.”
For some reason, he felt defensive as he tucked away the prints he could rescue. “Of course not.”
She held up the Sleeping Cats print. “How do you think they do that? My lower back never bent in that direction, not even when I was twenty-one and did yoga every day.”
“I guess there’s only one way to find out.” He couldn’t believe his daring and waited for her reaction breathlessly.
She tossed aside the print. “Bill, don’t be silly.”
Twisting his neck, he examined the position. He supposed she was right. He was as far from cat-like lithe as a man could be.
“I’m just so surprised you’d have something like this.”
She leaned back. “I had you pegged as a few well-kept issues of Nymph sort of guy.” She swept her hand over the prints. “Not a historical pornography collector.”
“These are art prints with an erotic subject! I’m not getting off to them!”
“So that’s why they were at the bottom of your bottom drawer?” She quirked her eyebrow at him and he could only press his lips together in an obstinate line.
She sighed. “More the shame then. Perfectly good naughty pictures going to waste.” Peering at him over her glasses, she said, “A wise woman once told me, erotica is a feather; pornography is the whole chicken.”
He blinked.
She tossed aside her glasses. “You won’t have a chicken, but I don’t suppose you have a feather?” she asked in a tired voice.
He blinked again. He carefully flipped through his portfolio. “No, but I know the secret of getting into the Drinking Camel position.”
~*end