Horni Soit: Week 7

It was three days since last Sunday and four days until the next. Paul was impatiently fiddling with a sausage. Most foul-minded students, including the author of Horni Soit, would immediately think of something crude and unsavoury when they read that phrase, but Paul wouldn’t. He was holier than thou, actually. He was a member of the most financially viable EU in the world, Sydney Uni’s Evangelical Union, and he was giving out sausages to students too lazy to buy their own lunches in a bid to convince them of God’s existence and benevolence. It was erotic, but only if erotic means something entirely different to what you think it means, involving more chastity and devotion.
Mary was there. It was no coincidence that she was called Mary and he was called Paul, because these were suitably biblical names for a piece of erotic fiction set in a religious group, and also their parents were avid fans of the Good Book and had named their children after leading characters. Still, it gave him a little buzz imagining her not as the holy mother of the Messiah, but rather as the slightly looser Mary Magdalene. It was erotic, more along the lines of what erotic usually means.
Paul approached Mary and offered her his sausage. She accepted, chastely. “Thank you,” she murmured. Paul’s social skills fled like Jews out of Egypt in Exodus. “Uh, well, uh, yes, it’s my pleasure,” he replied. He hoped she didn’t think pleasure bore any sexual undertones, his commitment to chastity frustratingly steadfast, despite his being the subject of erotic fiction. “Mine too,” she whispered. She extended her sausage-free hand and grabbed his. They gently held hands for a good twenty seconds. And then it finished, virginal and innocent, and so did this week’s edition of Horni Soit.

Richard Withers

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