of natural cures, but it took them both a while to regain their confidence after the flu.
But the outburst of libidinous behaviour that happened after the flu took them all by surprise. Sean eventually figured it was the biological imperative to reproduce in the face of a threat to the species. Heâd read once about a horrified group of US Peace Corps workers who arrived in the aftermath of an earthquake in South America. The locals werenât interested in their clean-cut saviours. They were busy bonking.
Everywhere the young middle-class Americans looked, they were aghast to find bonking couples, and not just under bushes or behind buildings, but in the middle of the road and the village square, in full view, amid the rubble and devastation, with the finer things like decorum and discretion tossed to the wind.
Sean laughed, until he found out how they felt. One night he was in the kitchen describing to Doug how heâd tripped over a couple copulating in a doorway.
âThey didnât care where they were,â he was saying to Doug when Robyn came in, wearing a predatory look that had an amazingly sexy effect when combined with her usual long skirt and high-buttoned blouse. She gave a little wiggle and lifted an eyebrow at Sean. As he got to his feet, the conversation with Doug forgotten, a flood of testosterone burst the dam he wasnât even aware of.
âYour place or mine, girl?â he managed to joke before they were rushing for the nearest classroom, tearing their clothes off as they went.
Robyn left him limp and exhausted. He lay on the floor for an hour, his head under a desk, but when he regained enough strength to get to his feet all he could think was that he wanted to go again. He was hopping through the door, no particular person in mind, when he was knocked over by Robyn returning. She was towing young Mark by the hand. She didnât even see him.
The only person not affected by the lust that gripped everyone was Edgar. But he was certainly amused. He told Sean it was like Auckland after he was finally demobbed. He could have rooted himself silly, he said, except after two years in a POW camp he didnât have the strength and now he simply couldnât be bothered. He told Sean a joke.
âThey offered me super sex,â he said. âI told them if it was all the same to them, Iâd rather have the soup.â
But for two or three weeks nobody was thinking about soup. All they could think about was how desirable was the person next to them. They didnât even wonder if the attraction was mutual. It was, for a while at least, and they went at it like there was no tomorrow â indeed, there might not have been, although that sort of philosophical gem was far from Seanâs mind as he grunted and bonked along with everyone else.
Eventually everyone calmed down, and Sean was able to relate to people on a less carnal level. He especially liked spending time around Patrick. The man was discreet and near-invisible, but with an earthy presence, like the smell of a horse blanket or manuka in the rain. Patrick had grown up on a South Island high-country sheep station and had gone adventuring when he was sixteen. He looked like a mountain goat with his shaggy hair and satyr eyes and he was deceptively tough and strong. In his twenties, he and a friend had run overland treks in Africa, driving an old quad, a four-wheel-drive ex-Rhodesian Army truck, the length of the continent, braving the most amazing hazards from land mines to tsetse flies. Patrick laughed when he heard of Seanâs equine intentions.
âIâll come with you,â he said. âJust in case you pick yourself a failed pacer that trots like a water-filled balloon.â
Kevin, Patrick and Sean walked to the riding school together. They found half a dozen horses in an eaten-down paddock near a shed containing all the gear Patrick said theyâd need â saddles, bridles, halters, reins,
But the outburst of libidinous behaviour that happened after the flu took them all by surprise. Sean eventually figured it was the biological imperative to reproduce in the face of a threat to the species. Heâd read once about a horrified group of US Peace Corps workers who arrived in the aftermath of an earthquake in South America. The locals werenât interested in their clean-cut saviours. They were busy bonking.
Everywhere the young middle-class Americans looked, they were aghast to find bonking couples, and not just under bushes or behind buildings, but in the middle of the road and the village square, in full view, amid the rubble and devastation, with the finer things like decorum and discretion tossed to the wind.
Sean laughed, until he found out how they felt. One night he was in the kitchen describing to Doug how heâd tripped over a couple copulating in a doorway.
âThey didnât care where they were,â he was saying to Doug when Robyn came in, wearing a predatory look that had an amazingly sexy effect when combined with her usual long skirt and high-buttoned blouse. She gave a little wiggle and lifted an eyebrow at Sean. As he got to his feet, the conversation with Doug forgotten, a flood of testosterone burst the dam he wasnât even aware of.
âYour place or mine, girl?â he managed to joke before they were rushing for the nearest classroom, tearing their clothes off as they went.
Robyn left him limp and exhausted. He lay on the floor for an hour, his head under a desk, but when he regained enough strength to get to his feet all he could think was that he wanted to go again. He was hopping through the door, no particular person in mind, when he was knocked over by Robyn returning. She was towing young Mark by the hand. She didnât even see him.
The only person not affected by the lust that gripped everyone was Edgar. But he was certainly amused. He told Sean it was like Auckland after he was finally demobbed. He could have rooted himself silly, he said, except after two years in a POW camp he didnât have the strength and now he simply couldnât be bothered. He told Sean a joke.
âThey offered me super sex,â he said. âI told them if it was all the same to them, Iâd rather have the soup.â
But for two or three weeks nobody was thinking about soup. All they could think about was how desirable was the person next to them. They didnât even wonder if the attraction was mutual. It was, for a while at least, and they went at it like there was no tomorrow â indeed, there might not have been, although that sort of philosophical gem was far from Seanâs mind as he grunted and bonked along with everyone else.
Eventually everyone calmed down, and Sean was able to relate to people on a less carnal level. He especially liked spending time around Patrick. The man was discreet and near-invisible, but with an earthy presence, like the smell of a horse blanket or manuka in the rain. Patrick had grown up on a South Island high-country sheep station and had gone adventuring when he was sixteen. He looked like a mountain goat with his shaggy hair and satyr eyes and he was deceptively tough and strong. In his twenties, he and a friend had run overland treks in Africa, driving an old quad, a four-wheel-drive ex-Rhodesian Army truck, the length of the continent, braving the most amazing hazards from land mines to tsetse flies. Patrick laughed when he heard of Seanâs equine intentions.
âIâll come with you,â he said. âJust in case you pick yourself a failed pacer that trots like a water-filled balloon.â
Kevin, Patrick and Sean walked to the riding school together. They found half a dozen horses in an eaten-down paddock near a shed containing all the gear Patrick said theyâd need â saddles, bridles, halters, reins,
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