Jamie tried three times to catch the cat, but the clever creature invariably scampered off before Jamie could get close.

“You need to understand the way these Alabama cats walk,” Nils told her. “A stalking, skulking stride.”

Jamie studied the cat as it strolled about, and after an hour made another attempt. She got closer, but cat eluded her again.

“It’s your clothing,” Nils said.

“What’s wrong with my clothing?” Jamie wanted to know.

“Nothing, in and of itself,” Nils said. “But it’s not what cat’s wear.”

“So you suggest what? I wear a fur coat?”

“You could,” Nils replied. “But in this Alabama heat and humidity, I’m not sure that’s the best choice.”

“Naked?” Jamie asked.

Nils nodded sagely.

Jamie was game. Having shed her clothes, she crept after the cat. Indeed she drew close, but at the last instant the cat scampered out of reach.

“Oh Nils, it’s hopeless,” Jamie complained. “I’ll never catch that cat.”

“Possibly it’s the way you smell,” Nils said.

“What’s wrong with the way I smell?” Jamie asked.

“Nothing,” Nils said, “but it’s not a scent conducive to cat catching.”

Nils had a suggestion.

Now Jamie, naked, mimicking the Alabama cat walk, scented thoroughly of sex after an hour of rambunctious fucking, draws nearer and nearer the cat...

And then snatches it by the tail.

Twisting wildly, cat wails and howls and moans and shrieks until Jamie hugs it close and hard and then the cat purrs, nestling contentedly against Jamie’s breast. (Who wouldn’t?) Satisfied, Jamie lets it go.