The Tick Incident Ch. 10

"Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh, Texas is flooding!" Lucy joked, as the class shouted, pointed and cheered with tremendous satisfaction.

The entire map was drenched, and Sam kept on trying to extract a few more dribbles out of Dick's penis, put through a variety of exercises on this glorious afternoon.

Each huge deposit pelted its target, Samantha as much impressed with Dick's copious cock as she was her own creative, coaxing abilities.

"Can you do any more?" Cecilia laughed, seeing a few more dribbles spurt out from Dick's penis and fall to the floor.

Like the last bullet squeezed out of a Colt Paterson revolver, Dick's ammunition was all used up.

For the moment.

The class soon turned their attention back to Carrie, and thanked her for the lesson - and show - she put on that day.

"Car-rie! Car-rie!" they cheered. "You're the best teacher ever!"

"This was the most fun sex education class I could ever imagine," Amanda gushed, already making up her mind she would go right back to the disco that night, to celebrate.

Carrie stood humbly in front of the gathered young ladies.

"Oh, I just wanted to get you familiar with the male organ, in a fun-spirited way. After all, sex should be fun," she expressed humbly, almost feeling it was necessary to take a bow, given the amount of adoration her students bestowed upon her. "And you certainly learned a thing or two today."

Carrie was also sure to extend the credit to her lovely, dedicated assistant.

"And bravo to my darling T.A. How 'bout it, everybody? How 'bout a round of applause for Dick," she urged. "And last but not least, how 'bout a rousing ovation for his massively-talented schlong - give it up everybody!"

Dick playfully took a bow, his aforementioned big penis flopping around between his legs.

Even the final few minutes of the class were memorable and fun spirited. Several of the ladies posed for pictures with the T.A., who was still completely nude and more than eager to give them a memento to remember the class they took at Temple J.C.

After the final few ladies spilled out of the classroom and Dick got dressed, he and Carrie chatted for a bit.

"Wasn't so bad, was it, hon?" Carrie asked with a sweet smile.

"That was...amazing," he marveled.

"You really knocked it out of the park, hon," she was quick to say.

"I went the distance," he added.

"You...went the distance, absolutely," Carrie answered him, with that lovely, rich laugh of hers. "Well, you ready for lunch, hon?"

******************

"Desert Winds" was a newly-opened restaurant on the edge of town, great for a quick drink, an affordable, tasty meal or in this case, an impromptu celebration.

The sunlight danced through the huge, ceiling-high windows, glistening off the silverware as Carrie and Dick made their way over to the table of four to meet Phyllis Dorshten.

"Well it's my treat," Phyllis announced with a big smile.

"Does this mean...?" Carrie asked with anticipation.

Phyllis paused briefly, for effect, but simply couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Yep. I got it. I got the advance," she told her two lunch mates.

"Oh, Phyll, that's wonderful. Here, gimme a hug," Carrie said, again embracing her pal from high school.

"Dick, Phyllis is writing an all-encompassing history book on all things Temple, back to the days of it being nicknamed Tanglefoot," Carrie told him.

"Cool," Dick answered her, with a sincere tone.

"Trying to put Temple on the map," Phyllis reasoned. "It's a town with a rich history and a story to tell so..."

As Dick studied Phyllis more, he began to realize she was sort of the exact opposite of what you would expect a history professor to be.

She had feathered brown hair, a Pink Floyd shirt, and - something Richard noticed right away - a nice ass, tightly hugged in a pair of bell bottom jeans. She used words like "fab" and "jiggy." She was a pretty hip chick.

She also had a cute little overbite, something that two years of braces never quite fixed completely.

Life is full of little imperfections that make each person wonderfully unique.

"Well, enough about me," Phyllis said as the three finally sat down at the table. "So...how was it? How was your return to teaching, Carr?"

"Oh, Phyll," Carrie began, with a wonderful grin. "I...loved it."

"Yeah?" Phyllis answered, as she began to peruse the Desert Winds lunch menu.

"The command I felt in that classroom," Carrie went on. "It really is a rush there's no substitute for."

"Like what the Apollo XVII astronauts maintained after they came down from the moon," Phyllis described.

A young waiter took their drink orders. Sweet red wine, the house specialty, was the drink of choice. Dick ordered a nice, tall glass of orange juice.

"Do you think it's something you would pursue?" Phyllis asked as she munched on a breadstick. "Maybe even coach a little swimming as well?"

"I...just don't see how I'm gonna find the time. Once Dick leaves for Baylor, we're gonna go to work on really trying to get the B&B going, plus we have that computer room to consider, whether or not we're gonna convert that into another room for guests..."

"Your plate is full," Phyllis sympathized. "Speaking of which..."

"What's good here?" Carrie asked, taking off her shoes, getting more comfortable.

"The real question is what's not good here," Phyllis laughed, considering a club sandwich or possibly chicken salad, but decided to roll the dice with something heartier. "Everything is phenomenal. I'm going with the veal parm."

Dick scanned the restaurant, noticing the party of three had almost the entire section to themselves.

"Hey, look, a salad bar in Texas. It does exist after all," he laughed.

"And the salad's really good, hon," Phyllis followed up. "A lot of different dressings."

They ordered their food, they sipped their drinks, while further talk of Phyllis' book ensued. But the up-and-coming author felt she neglected one aspect of this lunchtime conversation.

"Oh, goodness, I forgot to ask, hon, how was your experience today?" she offered, looking right at Dick.

Carrie giggled softly, knowing it had been quite a day for him.

"It was...It kinda rocked," he revealed with pride.

"Well there ya go," Phyllis encouraged. "I mean, you must have been pretty comfortable..."

She took an enjoyable bite of her Caesar salad.

"Given you're a nudist," she finished easily.

Dick didn't respond at first, a confused look on his young face.

"You're NOT a nudist?" Phyllis asked, surprised.

Dick stammered, trying to produce an answer.

"Phyll, I had asked Richard if he would help out and and he came through with flying colors," Carrie explained.

"Oh-oh-oh, that's right. I'm sorry," she expressed, laughing at her own brain cramp. "I've been so buried in my book lately. You'll have to forgive me. More than one of the Parker men are mentioned in my book and, believe me, they were big-time nudists."

She delivered that piece of information in such sweeping, resounding fashion.

"I mean, I've been thinking about it," Dick offered.

"By all means," Phyllis began, crunching away on a particularly large, rigid crouton, "lemme know if you ever want to read up on the topic. I have five or six books on nudism that I used for research. Please, take 'em off my hands."

******************

Their entrees were delicious. Carrie enjoyed the "Baked Flounder with Parmesan Crumbs" while Dick went out on a limb and ordered the "Seven-Spice Shark Steak," eliciting chuckles from Phyll and Carr.

Also, a second bottle of wine was ordered in haste.

"Do you remember, when we were in the basement at U Parker's, and we were afraid - "

"Afraid the entire basement was gonna collapse?" Phyllis recalled, as the two now began to finish each other sentences.

Dick loved the leg show he was now being treated to, with Carrie's skirt hiking up higher and higher, a little bit of thigh now on display.

"That place wasn't an estate. It was termites holding hands," Phyllis laughed. "I can see why they would want to tear it down, but Old Man Custard's..."

"Well I got 31 more signatures," Carrie stated, for what it was worth.

"They're tearin' it down, Carr. They're tearin' it down," Phyllis had to admit, trying to accept the inevitable.

"I know. It's gonna be a skating rink," Carrie had to admit.

"But as much as I love history, Carr, life is about pushing forward," Phyllis countered, her buzz causing her to be a bit more philosophical.

"And besides, maybe Krendy Krafts will finally get off the ground," Phyllis laughed.

Carrie followed suit, having a good laugh along with her friend.

"What's so funny?" Dick had to ask.

"Sweetie, we love Deb. We really do. But she's thinking about opening up a craft store. Dick, she's been procrastinating for years so we tease her about it," Carrie explained.

"Can you imagine how that would go down? Krendy Krafts opening up alongside Nancy Calhoun's Texas Totes?" Phyllis could hardly get out, referring to Nancy's store, which specialized in a warehouse-sized selection of tote bags.

The laughter intensified.

"Who is...Nancy Calhoun?" Dick pondered aloud.

"Dick, Nancy and Deb were rivals in high school. They pursued the same - " Carrie began.

"They pursued the same guy. Well, moreover, Deb stole him from Nancy," Phyllis spelled out.

"Saucy," Dick replied.

He enjoyed the talk about lovely Deborah Krendall, how much of a flirt she was in her high school days and how she had the attention of several young men.

"Nancy gave Deb her nickname," Phyllis laughed.

"Oh, 'Creepy Krendy,' right?" Dick asked.

"No, no," Phyllis countered, then looked around to make sure they still had the section to themselves. "The ditz with big tits."

Richard fell back in his seat laughing.

"But Deb's smart as a whip. She went to an Ivy League school?!" Dick argued.

"Well when you're angry with someone, your words don't always make sense," Phyllis laughed.

"The other part of it, I mean, yeah..." Dick mumbled, trailing off.

"She does have quite a rack," Phyllis laughed, causing the other two to join in. "Deb's a very well-endowed woman."

"As is her daughter," was Richard's natural follow-up.

"Oh I'm sure," Phyllis confirmed. "Lots of those kinds of things are in fact hereditary..."

Phyllis, rockin' a sleek frame with nice, perky breasts, always found it sort of humorous to speak of a woman - or man - with a larger-than-average build. It's these little oddities or special tidbits that added spice. As a writer herself, she savored details.

"I don't think Nancy has ever forgiven her," Carrie laughed.

"No, she hasn't. And I think if Deb ever tried to open a craft store, Nancy would do everything she could to block it," Phyllis carried on.

Dick got a kick out of the fact Deb had an enemy of any kind. But it shows there are several layers to every person.

"God, the Krendalls and Calhouns...It's like the Hatfields and the McCoys...Or Bobby Ewing vs. J.R.," he waxed poetically.

The three continued to chuckle about Temple's biggest rivalry. They moved onto dessert and coffee, and without wasting any more time, Phyllis reached down onto the seat next to her, lifted up a stack of records and files, and plopped them down onto the table.

"Oh, Phyll, is that what we have to go through?" Carrie asked, crossing her legs, with Dick sneaking a peak at her lovely, white stockings.

"It is. But we should be able to rifle through it," Phyllis replied. "I just need you to help me sort out which of these businesses and so forth was part of the historic Temple Mile."

Doing so meant looking at the dates on each record, and seeing which matched up with the particular time frame they were zeroing in on. It was pretty easy, but time consuming. Dick volunteered to pitch in.

******************

"Did the Rangers beat the Red Sox?" Phyllis asked disbelievingly as she glanced up at the 6 o'clock sports update.

This lunch gathering was pushing into the evening hours.

"They did. Comers pitched a beauty," Dick celebrated.

"He was able to watch the game," Carrie smiled. "Dick found a television set all the way in the back of the Temple Junior College cafeteria. Somehow, he found it..."

"Like a moth to a flame," Phyllis smiled. "Are you more of a baseball fan or football?"

"Oh, football all the way," Dick gushed. "If the Cowboys don't win it all this year, I'll be pissed."

The three continued to rifle through the stack of documents, enduring a few mild paper cuts along the way.

Phyllis began to put it all together, like a puzzle, filling in all the blanks, from Wickstein's Haberdashers to U Parker's Rusty Nail to the old, rickety Belton Jail.

"Phyll, what I can't wrap my head around...why did U sell the Rusty Nail?" Carrie posed.

Phyllis began to chuckle, taking a sip of her coffee.

"That's a whole other chapter in my book," she laughed. "Did you ever hear of the Lake Ghost of Tanglefoot?"

"Nooooo," Carrie responded, long and drawn out, the thought amusing her.

"Well, U and his staff were convinced the lake ghost had basically moved into the Rusty Nail. Haunting it from dusk til dawn," Phyllis went on, taking a bite of her caramel-swirled cheese cake.

"You're pulling my leg," Carrie gushed, slapping her knee as she fell back into her chair, having a good laugh.

"There were incidents, apparently. Chairs moving about, bottles falling from the shelves. Weird howls late at night," the writer went on. "It bothered U enough for him to just close up shop...I think it's wonderful because, after all, every book can use a good ghost story."

Carrie and Richard looked at each other and cracked up.

"I'm...flabbergasted," Carrie laughed.

"Do you not believe it could have been a ghost?" Phyllis offered.

"I...I believe in the afterlife, don't get me wrong. I just, can't believe someone would sell a thriving business just because they heard a few weird noises in the middle of the night," Carrie reasoned.

"Well it was more than just a few loud noises. Besides, he sold it to the wholesaler, Cleve Murphy, who had been in business with U for quite some time. It was a win-win."

The thought of these disturbances caused Richard to think of one of his favorite shows.

"I'm imagining it being like a 'Scooby Doo' mystery. The lake ghost is actually...Old Man Weatherby?!" Dick shouted, getting a good reaction from Carrie and Phyllis. "Rut-row..."

Once the dinner rush began to fill Desert Winds to the brim, Carrie felt it was time to move their work elsewhere.

"Phyll, there is no way on God's green earth we're getting all this done here," she stated, surrendering. "Why don't you come home with us and we can finish it up?"

"Sounds like a plan," Phyllis agreed.

******************

Janet was there to greet Carrie, Phyllis and Dick when they came in through the front door of the house.

Janet and Phyllis caught up on things, dishing about cheerleading and writing historical books.

But Janet was most curious about Richard's day.

"How was he?" she asked her mom.

"Dick was wonderful. He really was," Carrie asserted, praising him. "Sex education of any kind can be a tough topic to tackle. And Dick helped make it fun for the girls."

"Do you think it's something you would do again, hon?" Phyllis chimed in.

"I'd love to," he conveyed.

"And it's good money, hon. Nude modeling? You could make some extra dough here and there," Phyllis encouraged. "Just keep your eye out for work - colleges, art classes..."

It all seemed plenty reasonable. But like Phyllis alluded to earlier when speaking to Carrie about her teaching, Dick felt like an astronaut who had just come down from the moon.

He didn't want the buzz to end. Plus being nude freed him to an extent. It was beautiful release.

Phyllis further enhanced his appreciation of the subject.

"Nudists are some of the most easygoing and accepting people you will ever encounter," she disclosed, sharing knowledge gained from her research. "They're inquisitive, they're genuine...A lot of people enjoy nudism because they enjoy being around the same kind of people, folks who express these attributes and who enjoy the simple pleasures of swimming, sunbathing, playing games..."

"His two buddies - "

"The Three Musketeers," Janet laughed.

"His two buddies, Barney and Craigers, are also budding nudists," Carrie shared with a warm, genuine smile. "Like Three Rivers running together..."

"Well there ya go," Phyllis replied gladly.

With all of this encouragement, and with the situation gaining so much momentum, Dick went ahead and asked what he had been thinking about for some time.

"Even though the class is in the rearview mirror...Could I...still go nude?" he asked, looking in Carrie's direction.

There was a pause.

"You're asking me, hon? Dick, it's completely up to you," she told him. "It's totally your choice."

Over the last few weeks, Carrie had offered Richard an avenue to pursue. Whether or not he wanted to take that path was completely up to him. It seemed he had made his choice, in a very decisive fashion.

"Yeah I think...I wanna...I wanna be a nudist," he announced, his voice showing more conviction with every measured word.

"Dynamite," Janet delivered with a wide smile.

"Dick, if you want, you could take those books off my hands now, clear up space in my car," Phyllis laughed.

"Perfect," Carrie jumped in. "And, Dick, when you guys come back in, Phyllis is gonna reveal some rather interesting information she found out about Temple Tea Time."

"Did I ever," Phyllis gushed.

"Oh that's right, we were gonna do some sleuthing - " Richard began.

"Well, Phyllis did all the leg work, so we're off the hook. But she's gonna tell us - well, you'll hear when you guys come back in."

******************

Phyllis and Dick walked out to Phyllis' 1976 canary-yellow Oldsmobile Omega, retrieving from it five books on the subject of nudism. The names of the books danced upon the covers: "The Happy Nudist," "The Nature Path," "A Life in Nudism," "Naked and Happy"...

"Happy Trails" was a book of maps and reviews, detailing every nudist camp, lake and beach in the southwest.

Phyllis kept stacking the books into Richard's outstretched arms, with a chuckle.

Dick was able to glance into Phyllis' back seat and notice that she was as much an avid reader as she was an accomplished writer. Paperback copies of "Roll of Thunder, Hear my Cry," "Dragonsong," "The Great Santini," and last but not least, "Even Cowgirls Get the Blues," had found a home in the back of Phyllis' car. There were also a couple books on Russia, one of Phyllis' other subjects of interest.

"Watch your step, hon," the teacher and writer instructed Richard, the stack of books piled so high in his arms, they hindered his line of vision.

When the two got back inside, Richard naturally got undressed.

Phyllis, trying to be discreet, still couldn't avoid watching closely, as he peeled off every layer of clothes and discarded each garment neatly into a pile.

Whether it was the wine or maybe even the caffeine from her three cups of coffee with dessert, Phyllis Dorshten couldn't contain her tickled surprise with the size of Richard's penis.

And who could blame her? Even soft, Richard's penis resembled a grain silo hanging upside down.

"Oof. Show that to the Russians and this Cold War would be over in one frantic heartbeat," she gushed, causing Carrie and Janet to smile. "That is a secret weapon, young man."

"Eh, not so secret to us," Janet teased but also stating plain fact. "We've seen it a ga-zillion times."

"I imagine so, well with the class and the training Carrie had for him - which sounds like it was brilliantly effective by the way," Phyllis stated.