Rather than argue with her, Caitlin popped her snaps open and gave me a nudge. I took off my shirt, too, and we sat in a little circle. “You don’t... like, go completely naked, do you?” she asked a little uncertainly.“Not outside,” Caitlin reassured her. “When you talk to us on Skype, we don’t usually have anything on. But we’re on a nice comfy bed then.”I found it a little distracting. I was becoming more and more aware of both Caitlin and Mandy as women and had discovered how to relieve myself. I wondered idly if they'd hoped for an outdoor frolic in the snow to celebrate their wedding only to find they'd mistimed it. If so they didn't seem overly concerned about it, there was lots of touchy-feely byplay across the table as they ordered their own breakfast and they seemed happy as clams.Now where did that phrase come from, I wondered. Were clams really happy? Whether they were or not, how would anybody know? Why not happy as, oh, say a meadowlark? I didn't know anything about the. More

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