Lenny wrings out the shirts

"I can't believe I'm doing this, but here, let's wring out the shirts, I don't know why I didn't try it before I put them on!" Amy pulled off the top shirt. "Don't look!"

Lenny turned away. "Okay, I won't look. You'll have to explain all of this sometime. I don't really understand!"

Neither do I, thought Amy. She tossed her shirt to Lenny, and he began to wring it out. He twisted the material around, a good deal of water cascading to the floor. He tossed the shirt back to Amy.

"Thanks!" she called out. "Wait ..." she said, as she tried to pull the shirt back on again. "Something is wrong."

"What?"

"Um ... the shirt is ripped. Like totally ripped through. Did you rip it while you were wringing it out?"

"I certainly didn't mean to," said Lenny. "But maybe I twisted to hard?"

Amy tried stretching the material over her body. But actually now, because it wasn't wet anymore, it wasn't sticking to her, and kept falling off. "It won't stay on!"

Lenny turned to look.

"I said don't look!" Amy shrieked.

"Sorry, but -- I'm just trying to help!" Lenny turned away, but then turned back. "I can't help you if I don't look at you."

Amy sighed. "Okay. Just don't get any crazy ideas!"

Lenny approached her slowly. "I'm just trying to think of how to keep you covered. Can we try to tie parts of the material together? Maybe kind of like a toga?"

Lenny reached his hands out, and Amy reluctantly let him work with the edges of the shirt, most of which was pretty destroyed. He tried tying parts of it together, but as he managed to cover up one part of Amy, another would pop free. Throughout all of this, he kept accidentally touching or grabbing her boobs.

"Hey, Lenny, you keep grabbing me."

"I know. I promise I'm not really trying to, but there's just not that much material, and you're inside it."

Amy realized that he wasn't trying to be fresh or anything, he was trying to help. She apologized. "No, I'm sorry, Lenny. I'm just all stressed out. I shouldn't get mad. Can you forgive me?"

"Of course, Amy. Besides, I'm taking time out of my day to try to help you out. The least you could do would be not get annoyed when I touch your body without permission."

Amy thought that sounded a little weird. "Without permission? Touch my body?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, we don't have the kind of relationship where I'm just allowed to freely touch your body -- but today, because I'm helping you, it's sort of part of the gig, you know? And if I accidentally graze your breast or your nipple, or if when I'm trying to tie this shirt together, I pull something out of place -- oops! -- and suddenly you're pretty much naked right here in front of me ... well, it's not my fault!"

Amy thought about it. "No, I guess it's not. I guess I'm just ... naked. And I got no one to blame but myself!"

Lenny laughed. "It's true!"

Amy looked at him. "Okay. Well, these shirts clearly aren't doing anything. And you've gotten a good look and even a good feel, so any hope of keeping myself private is kind of gone." She pulled what remained of the shirts off her, and just stood there completely naked. "So now what?"

Lenny looked at his watch. "You're not going to like this, Amy, but I have to go, actually. I came home for lunch, but all this time with you, and my break is over." He stepped back into his car. "I hope you manage to figure this out! Best of luck!"

... and with that, he drove away.

Amy stood there in the driveway, her hands hanging at her sides, her naked body on full display.

"Well now what?" she cried.