So, who wants to see Aurie in the nude?
Well, you’re not going to here. This is a written story, not ecchi manga, you pervs.
I know that the Thinking Machines do not plan, certainly not in our sense, as they think too fast; while we open the fridge to wonder about dinner they’ve completed a schedule to terraform Mars. I think there is something a little similar with demi-humans. Not speed… just some difference I do not fully get, yet. I’ve seen a little of that with Faustina both in combat and with her sons. So when Aurie nonchalantly says, “I’m hoping to get laid,” it is apparent she’s given this some thought.
But about fifteen hundred feet on, Hartmann spied a small lake to their right. Even in late spring, there was still about five feet of ice around the water’s edge. Walking off the road, Jansen followed.
“Should I ask?”
“Sure,” she replied, threading around the thick but short pines.
“Then,” Colour said in exasperation, “what are we doing here? Catching our own fish?”
“Nope.” She stopped at a pebbly section that was nearly ice-free and dropped her pack and immediately began to strip.
“A bath?” the human asked, staring at the ice water.
“Yep. We don’t really smell too bad but inside an inn or tavern? Not a good first impression, Friend,” Aurelia concluded by taking her boots and socks off and pulling a bar of soap and straight razor from her rucksack. “You did bring soap?”
“Yes…” she removed her clothes much slower. Used to cold showers at home, an icy lake was something else again. “Er… why the razor?”
The demi-human lifted her right arm and pointed at her crotch with her left.
“I’m hoping to get laid,” she said in a plain tone. “Should look a little cute, right? Not some furball.”
She was, Colour saw, in amazing shape. Not over-muscled but very lean and toned. Aurelia carefully made her way over the slippery stones until about hip deep. She looked back.
“It… looks cold,” Colour admitted.
“Very,” Aurelia smiled. “I just override the nerve signals. You humans can do that, too, with training.”
By the time Colour made it in to her knees, shaking, her young friend had lathered up from her head down and plunged under to rinse off. A little more soap under her arms and to her crotch and she started shaving.
“Isn’t that a little dangerous?” Colour asked, quickly rubbing her soap on and trying to splash it off. I am not diving under!
“What I am, Friend Colour? Forgotten already?” Aurelia laughed before dropping under the water one more time. “Better! Hurry up! We’ll be getting in at dusk, now, and do not want to startle anyone.”
“I do not think you cannot do that, f… fr… friend,” Colour chattered, wading out. Aurelia handed her her towel before she got her own. The older woman again felt a bit like a jerk for thinking poorly of her odd friend. Fifteen minutes later had them back on the road.
“Didn’t you, with the Archbishop,” Colour began, “that is, aren’t you Catholic?”
“I try to be,” was her easy reply, looking at what appeared to be some kind of naval memorial off to their left.
“But you just said you wanted to, ahem, get laid,” Colour managed. “I’m not even Christian but am pretty sure that’s a sin, right?”
“Mortal sin. Yep.” Some of the houses around them seemed occupied. “Made worse by my willful intent to sin. Anyone can get drunk, well, not me, and anyone can lose themselves to passion. There are times I just want a man.”
“The Empress did much the same with her first husband. And he was Mayor of Huntsville and ten years older! Quite the political alliance.” They saw another cart coming toward them. “I’ll go to Confession. I’ll be fine.”
“But,” the princess’ hand touched hers, “thank you for your concern.”