Page 29 The Housekeeper

                                               THE HOUSEKEEPER.                                                     4-5-10

                                                                            ROY GARDE.

           Benjamin E.S. Quire’s mother, nee ‘Benjamin,’ had married a man named Quire and she’d gone one better than Harry S. Truman in that neither of her son’s middle initials stood for anything. She had a strange sense of humor and she also had far too much time on her hands.

        He, Benjamin, liked regular fishing and fly-fishing so much that he bought a cabin, and added to until it was impossibly over elaborate, that was near his favorite fishing spot in a river up north. The bend where the cabin was located was difficult to get to because its only approach road was unpaved and over the last few miles it was close to being a foot path. Added to that, the river, a little ways downstream from his house, was strewn with rocks and so not only ‘his’ bend but also most of the upper half of it were rarely visited by anyone else the year around.

       He had built his NYC company, which specialized in electrical design systems, up from scratch and he had hand picked every one of his staff. They were first class technicians to a man and were handsomely paid and were given generous bonuses at the beginning of every new year. Also, he rewarded the man who had won the, ‘Outstanding Worker Of The Year’ award, and the runner-up, with a week’s vacation  with him in his cabin so that they could fish all day and do some hard drinking at night.

       Up until the year in question all of the winners had necessarily been Caucasians because those were the only ones that he’d employed until he’d been forced to change his policy due to the City Hall rule changes of several years earlier.

           Well, that year, which was more than ten years after the big change in the rules, the two winners were two hyphenated Americans – Asian and African – and he’d been horrified when he’d found that out but he couldn’t think of a diplomatic way to take away the prize especially seeing that they’d both already eagerly accepted it.

Their names were Henry Wu Yeung and Matthew Jenkins and they were both eager to go fishing with him but not because they wanted to learn fly-fishing but because they both, understandably, liked the idea of being given an extra week of paid vacation and, also, they’d heard about the good food that got served up there and about how the beer and the first class liquor supply was seemingly inexhaustible.

        Ben Quire liked his creature comforts almost as much as he liked fishing and so he always sent up a girl named Brenda Hackle who was on the staff of his country house in New Jersey – Ben had married into an old family who had a mansion that was surrounded by lots of good land in the horse country of Somerset County and who had lots of old and new money to go with it – and who was a good cook and a competent housekeeper, to stay in the cabin from late spring through summer and for most of the fall. He went up there himself almost every weekend and all the members of his family had a permanent invitation to join him in the spring of each year but after their first visit they’d all trotted out excuses every year from then on and so he usually found himself up there either alone or with friends or business acquaintances. His wife didn’t object to his being isolated and alone so often with Brenda because although she was less than thirty years old she had a severely pock-marked face and straggly hair and she was five feet eight and weighed in at over two hundred pounds and concomitantly had a huge bottom and a prominent belly and formidable breasts.

       Brenda looked forward to her assignment every year because she didn’t much like being around people and she put up with the hard work that she had to do every weekend because she usually had the weekdays all to herself. There was no telephone service up there and no electricity supply and although there was always plenty of fuel for the generator, which was easy to start up, she used it during the week only for the two or three hours every evening that her favorite TV programs came on. The rest of time, a propane stove and two Kincaid lanterns served her needs adequately.


       The first day of the week’s vacation that was the prize for the two top employees of the year – as already stated they were the first non-Caucasians who’d ever been chosen – went as well as the following two days went badly.

       Ben had explained to them on the drive up that breakfast was served every day at eight o’clock and dinner was also at eight o’clock, for the logic of it and to keep things simple. Brenda always prepared and served both meals and also provided a packed lunch every day. He told them that she cleared up after breakfast and washed the dishes but when she had served dinner, and had put dessert on the side table, that was it for her for the day and she wasn’t to be bothered anymore by anyone. He went on to tell them that he could make up a roster for who would deal with the leftovers and with clearing the table and with doing the dishes after dinner if that was what they wanted but he’d found it best if they all worked together to get all of those chores done before they got down and into some serious drinking.

He went through the other house rules – everybody was responsible for making their own beds and that, if they needed to wash personal clothes in the washer and dryer, the times that the generator was started up during the day and the evening were posted on the laundry room door. Another one was that although the kitchen and pantry were open for everyone at all times whoever used them had to be sure to leave them as found.

        It was almost dark when they arrived there on the Friday and they ate at eight and then spent the rest of the night getting to know each other. They’d all drunk beer with their meal and, when they’d done the chores, Ben opened up the liquor cabinet and showed them that it contained a large variety of liquors and then he put a carafe of his special bourbon on the table and although Henry had thought that he preferred scotch and Matt had drunk only vodka for years the moment that they tasted the house bourbon they both opted to stay with bourbon with ice and branch water and then, later, bourbon with ice and then, later still, bourbon with bourbon. Ben told them that he kept three wooden kegs of it ‘to hand’ and so there was no danger of having it run out on them.

       The next morning none of them could so much as look at breakfast, as Brenda had guessed, and so she was able to skip the meal altogether. She fixed them a packaged lunch and they went off in the boat, hoping to catch dinner, at around eleven o‘clock.

       Ten minutes after they’d gotten underway they all felt a sense of apprehension and they saw that the water surface had suddenly gotten strangely smooth and that the air had taken on the peculiar trait of trying to make their hair stand up. Ben guessed what was happening and he got confirmation when he saw, and pointed out to the others, that way up to the north there were dark, ominous, purple-ish clouds coming towards them. He turned the boat around and headed back to the jetty.

          He got them to help him pull the boat up onto the boatshed slip and they’d barely done that before heavy drops of rain started to lash down on them.

       Ben felt foolish for having let his hangover interfere with his usual practice of checking-in with the weather forecast every morning but the others pretended that they weren’t aware of any lapse in judgment on his part.

       They ate their packaged lunch in the dining room with some cold beer and began to feel better but the constant rumbling and crashing and the noise of the rain hitting the roof interfered with conversation and so when they’d finished eating they all followed Ben’s example and went to their rooms to lie down for a while. After dinner they did some more heavy drinking in an attempt to keep cheerful as they, desultorily checked out the available amusements and pastimes.

       The storm didn’t let up until late on the Sunday night and by then they’d all done all of the card playing and the magazine reading and the story swapping that they could manage and they’d all felt their cabin fever build up to the bursting point. There was a large selection of games, electronic and conventional ones, but none of them were of an age to want to learn how to play the new ones nor were they keen to relearn the rules of the ones that they vaguely remembered as having bored them in their early teens.

       On the Monday morning the sun came out nicely and as they were eating breakfast together on the deck Ben apologized to them for their having had to spend a miserable weekend and promised that for the rest of the week they would get in some ‘real, bitchin’ good’ hunting and fishing.

           He was able to keep his promise and by the time that they were due to leave on the following Sunday afternoon they had almost forgotten about the horrendous first weekend.

       The two visitors consulted on what to leave Brenda as tips and they left them on the bedside tables in their rooms. They said goodbye to her on the porch and then went down and confidently got into the SUV who’s engine hadn’t been started up even once over the preceding nine days and it became evident that it had liked its respite overmuch because it wouldn’t start when Ben turned the ignition key.

They all thought of themselves as being semi-competent car mechanics but by the time it got dark they had all given up on finding the problem.

Individually and then collectively they all three fell back on what has become the standard, all embracing and convenient excuse – “It’s got to be an electronic card failure and you’d have to have a suitable computer to find out which one of the components is faulty.”

Ben used his cell phone to call for assistance from the AAA and was re-directed to the nearest town’s police station and was told that the heavy storm the week before had evidently undermined a large swath of hillside because, “There’s been a huge mud slide and the road is impassable and if there’s no emergency at your place and if you have enough food for about five days you can’t expect any attempts at rescue and please don’t call again unless your situation has worsened because clearly everyone down here is already way too busy to answer standard enquiries. So, you should expect us when you see us.”

They took their gear back into the house and they felt despondent and de-moralized and consequently, after eating dinner, they poured a whole lot of whisky down their throats and they only stopped drinking it when they physically couldn’t – or couldn’t remember how – get the contents of their glasses up and into their mouths.

In the morning Brenda found them all lying around, fully dressed, on the living room furniture or on the carpet and she had far too much sense to disturb them before it got to be lunchtime.

 They had a plentiful store of basic supplies and so there was no danger of their going hungry but Ben told them that from then on everything that they shot had to be butchered on the spot and the meat brought back to the house and that the ‘catch and release’ policy that they’d been following while fishing was no longer in force.


Ben was just over fifty years old and the other two were a few years over thirty and they’d all been married for at least ten years and although having constant access to a woman takes the intensity off a man’s needs being deprived of that access for a week or so adds to the depth of that need and it quickly gets to be several times more urgent than that of a single man who is used to getting only sporadic relief through one-night stands and the like.

That was the reason for them all feeling frustrated at dinner on that Sunday night because they were all well aware that they should have been back home by then and able to do some wallowing in familiar female flesh – safe in the bosom of their family, so to speak – and that was also the reason why they’d tried hard to subdue that need with alcohol. Their eagerness to get home after ten days away from its comforts was by no means because they all had big screen TV sets with cable service and access to the internet.

Henry had been joking when he’d said at that Sunday dinner, after Brenda had served dinner and had left their dessert on a side table and had taken herself off, that she was beginning to look more and more attractive but Ben was the one who felt the most frustration with his forced chastity and because of that he latched on to Henry’s remark and it came to him, the next day, that while Brenda could not and never would be called attractive, and that her body was formidably off-putting, it was nevertheless indubitably a woman’s body and therefore it was as capable as any other woman’s body of providing relief for a man. He tried to banish the thought but his body kept sending messages to his brain that urged it to get to work on a plan that would achieve the goal that was becoming increasingly necessary to it.


On the Monday afternoon the river was full and was running far too fast to venture out on it and so they fly fished from the banks until it started to get dark.

The plan that Ben’s libido had insisted that he come up with was hatched that night and when he woke up on the Tuesday morning he lat there and elaborated on it but doing so rewarded him with an erection that fully grabbed his attention, and that made him whimper from the pain and the need that it generated, and it soon forced him to accept the fact that the barely thought out plan would have to do – ready or not and to hell with the possibility, indeed the probability, of there being dire consequences because of it.

It called for having his two guests out on the river in the boat and so he told them, when they showed up for breakfast, that the water level was already much lower and that the current had lessened significantly – which happened to be true, fortunately – and so if they doubled up on the anchor ropes and used two of them for mooring anywhere but mid-stream they could safely go out on the boat again. When they’d manhandled it off the slip, and into the water, instead of joining them in the boat he told them that he had gotten a sudden hankering to do some more fly fishing from the jetty so they should go ahead on their own and he suggested that they go up to the widest part of the river, just around the bend – where, he said deadpan, they’d remember that he’d put a chalk mark on the side of the boat so that they’d know when they’d gotten back to the most promising spot – and try to catch some nice big fish so that they wouldn’t have to open too many of the stored cans of beef stew or corned beef.

His statement that he wanted to ‘do some more fly-fishing from the jetty’ lost it’s credibility quickly because they guessed what his real intent when they saw the look that was in his eyes as he cast them off and again from the awkward way that he moved along the slip after they’d gotten underway.


When they had gone up river and out of sight Ben went up to the cabin and into the kitchen and, as he’d hoped, he found Brenda in there dealing with the breakfast dishes.

As he walked on in he remembered how, years before, one of his supervisors, a guy named Bob Henderson, had gotten a divorce and had then married his secretary a week after it became official and how she’d then promptly quit work. At a board meeting a little later that same year one of his other supervisors told Bob that he’d ‘fucked himself out of a good secretary!’ He remembered how the raw remark had drawn first gasps and then hoots of laughter out of the other six guys around the table and also the look of embarrassed fury that came to Bob’s face. Ben sincerely hoped that he wasn’t about to fuck himself out of a good housekeeper but, by then, he was firmly in the grip of the most powerful force in the animal world and it kept him moving towards her, and his fate, inexorably.

He could have walked around the central preparing table to get to the refrigerator but he chose to pass it on the side where the sink was. That meant that he had to push past her and when he did so he purposely didn’t turn away so that only their rear-ends would touch each other.

She stiffened as he moved past her and became very aware of what was happening and she stopped scrubbing at one of the dishes and let it and the scrubber fall back into the water and then stood still and waited.

Ben noticed how he’d affected her so he stopped his pretence of wanting to get something out of the ‘fridge and he turned around and went back to brush past her again from the opposite direction.

That time he moved more slowly and he deliberately allowed his once-semi-now-fully erect penis to ride along the contours of her bottom like the valve lift rods did on the cams in the engines of the old cars that he’d once restored as a hobby. When it got to ride down into the valley between her buttocks he stopped moving and he knew that he had to wait for a signal that would let him proceed or one that would warn him to get the hell out of range.

The hoped for go-ahead signal came in the form of an almost imperceptible bottom wriggle and that was easily good enough for him so he reached around to cup a breast and instantly found that he’d have to settle for fondling some of the lower part of one of them. She pushed her head back and arched her spine and with that he knew for sure that it was safe for him – it was even expected of him at that point – to take her hand and lead her to his bedroom and he knew that no words were needed to seal the deal or even to be polite.

Brenda had had a thing for her boss for years. Ever since she’d started working for him she’d felt tingling across her shoulders and a nice void opening up at her center whenever she found herself in the same room with him but she’d always supposed that it was because of his power and his wealth rather than his presence.

When he’d rubbed against her he was touching her properly for the first time ever and so the usual void kept on opening up until it got to be a chasm and when he’d repeated the signal in earnest she’d had to hold onto the counter top to remain standing. She’d had to muster all of her strength to be able to stay calm when he caressed her breasts and when he took her hand and led her away in the direction of the master bedroom she felt warmth flood the void and then flow through her entire body.

She had been to bed with just three men in her whole life up to then and when each one of them had left her bed she’d determined to not let him back into it ever because they all turned out to be not lovers of her but of her body. It was clear to her that they got turned on by big women and they showed it through their insistence on having every light in the room switched on and by spending a long time looking and exploring with their hands and their mouths and by the way that they only mounted her when they were too close to ejaculation to be able to wait any longer.

She was pretty sure that Ben wasn’t a big-woman fetishist, although she wouldn’t have minded much what he was as long as he kept touching her, but she wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with her when they got into his room so she stood still and waited.

On his part, for his own piece of mind, he established that he was still in control by moving close to her from behind and then reaching up under her blouse to release the catch on her wide strapped brassiere and then to slip his hands up and then inside the loosened cups. When he’d done so the only thing that he could think of that might be anything like adequate treatment for the hugeness that he’d uncovered was to play with her nipples.

His erection got to be so hard that it was hurting him so to get the appeasement process going he kissed the back of her neck and whispered to her that she was to take her clothes off and then he hobbled around closing the curtains.

Knowing that he wanted to darken the room gave Brenda vast relief and helped her come out of her funk and she got on with taking her clothes off, as ordered.

When he’d finished with the curtains he got undressed himself and by that time she was sitting on the side of the bed and was waiting for further instructions.

He really only wanted to enter her as soon as was possible but he had enough sense to know that the situation called for at least some foreplay and so he got her to lie back and then he went to his knees and played with her breasts for a while and then bent down to kiss her belly and then continued on down.

‘Enough, already,’ he thought to himself and then was surprised to find that it wasn’t enough at all because he found that her bulk was so different from all of the women that he’d ever been with that it was intriguing. He decided to exploit the novelty of the situation and he took time to go exploring and as he progressed he thought up new ways to use the mass of her to give himself pleasure.

When the novelty had worn off he subtly signaled to her – by mounting her and then probing at her after he’d pushed her legs apart with his own – that he wanted to get better acquainted with her interior charms.

He was surprised to find that he didn’t need guidance because their bellies were compatible and so his angle of approach was exactly right and consequently he slipped smoothly right into her as nice as pie and he was even more surprised when he found that she was both wet and tight and the combination was so exciting that he came far too quickly but the intensity of it, boosted by his long detent, gave him as much pleasure as he could remember getting from any woman that he’d ever been with.

He lay on her and wallowed for a few minutes and when he got back down to earth enough to become fully aware of who was underneath him he was disconcerted to find that, as good as it had undoubtedly been, for some reason he had to get away from her and out of the bed right that second. He forced himself to whisper his thanks and that she was a wonderful woman and then he pulled out and got off her and went into the bathroom to wash up. When he came out he avoided looking at her and he got dressed and left her there in his bed and he was highly relieved with being allowed to leave so easily because he already knew that as much as he’d needed to get relief, and as much as he’d enjoyed doing it, it was the first and last time that he’d ever take her or any other large woman to his bed because the hugeness of her, the overwhelmingly generous body parts that she had, had become totally repugnant to him and he couldn’t fathom out why he’d earlier wanted to explore them or had wanted to touch them, no matter about mouthing away at them.


Henry and Matt had dropped the two anchors as soon as they’d fought their way up stream far enough so that they couldn’t be seen from the jetty. By then they were both bored with boating and with all kinds of fishing, including and especially fly-fishing, and both of them were tired of eating fish no matter how fresh it was. Without Ben’s immediate supervision they were able to simply sit in the boat and relax but they dutifully, just in case, held their fishing poles so that the lines were dangling in the water apparently with purpose even though neither of them had bothered to bait their hook.

They both saw, through the trees, the curtains get drawn in the master bedroom because, of course, all of its windows had a view of the river and, when that had been done to all of the curtains, they knew what was about to happen in the bedroom and they both squirmed with envy.

Both of them were thinking that they wanted some of what Ben was evidently getting but it was Henry who spoke up first and thus established his claim to be next.

“What’s good for the goose is good for the geese,” he said, which was doubly gender confused but which clearly stated his position. He started to work on a plan right then but nothing of much worth came to him because everytime that he got up to the point of having to state his case to Brenda the fact that she was huge and almost twice his weight made his mind falter in confusion and reel away from the confrontation.


His erection woke him up the next morning and it forced him to accept the fact that it was life-threateningly, health-shatteringly hard and because he now knew that the normal and natural method of appeasing it was not very far away from where he was lying after ten minutes or so of suffering he found that by being held in extremis for that length of time his mind had come up with a brilliant idea and it was that the best plan for him was the simplest one of all.

He simply had to stay in bed.

It wouldn’t get him to where he wanted to be on its own but it would certainly be a good start on the road to being allowed into Brenda’s bed.


When Henry didn’t show up for breakfast at eight o’clock – Brenda had already begun to pour their coffee – Ben went and knocked on his door and when they heard him shout that he didn’t feel well and that he was going to stay in bed all three of them knew at once exactly what was afoot.

The three of them were all careful to not meet each other’s eyes and nothing was said by the two guys as they ate breakfast, nor all through the rest of the day out on the water, that had any relevance to Henry’s sudden sickness.


Henry ventured out of his room, wearing only a robe and walking a little funny, when he’d at last heard the noise of the outboard motor fade away and, still without a concrete plan because he now had faith and hope in not having a real one because the strategy had worked well for him up to then, he went into the kitchen and found that Brenda was there and was standing at the sink with her back towards him.

He coughed and asked, in a strange voice, if there was any coffee and because she’d already made up her mind, a second after she’d heard him shout that he wasn’t going to get out of bed, to help out the poor, stricken little man – ‘in for a penny’ was her reasoning and her philosophical decision had been more than somewhat influenced by the restless night that she’d spent due to Ben’s having aroused her sensually the day before but hadn’t followed through sufficiently for her, and also because she found Henry to be very attractive in that he was nicely proportioned and lithe and graceful and his tanned face had intriguing Asian features – so she cast away precaution and told him that she had some coffee in her bedroom and that he was to follow her there “if you want some of it.”

She closed the door behind him when they were inside and she then drew the only curtain and got undressed without a word.

It wasn’t totally dark in the room so Henry could see her as she exposed, part by enormous part, more woman than he’d thought possible and he began to fear for his life because it was abundantly clear that, once in bed, she could crush him from benign carelessness and without any evil intent.

He realized that not having a plan was now no longer an option for him if he was going to survive the coming ordeal.

  He fought through his panic and came up with the conviction that he had best get to be in charge and then stay in charge from the very beginning and that, further, it was essential that she remain lying on her back from the beginning to the end – the way to do that was surely to make her want to do just that, he figured – and consequently she’d have to abandon all thought of mixing it up or deciding that she’d like to indulge in one or more of her favorite unconventional positions.

As he closed with her he decided that his best hope of staying in charge was to do what he did best.

Even when fully dressed he didn’t make an imposing figure so what she saw coming towards her when he’d gotten totally naked discouraged her and she decided that she would follow his lead as long as she could but that she couldn’t be held accountable for what might happen later on and with that in mind, when he made the signal that she was to lie on her back, she acquiesced meekly.

Seconds later she found that she was in the presence of a master, though perhaps just a tad too frantic to get started at it, of the art of cunnilingus.

Henry well knew that he had to stay constantly aware, so as to anticipate movements of hers that could injure him or drive the breath out of him, and sure enough, she showed what she was capable of when she was having her first orgasm. If he hadn’t been both nimble and lucky that first one might well have been the last one that she ever got from him and it could have meant that the biggest fear of all young, virile men – that is, to die with full testicles – would have become sadly true for him.

He stayed clear and her frenetic heaving and thrashing eventually slowed and then stopped altogether as she came down from ecstasy into a state of mere total contentment. He got encouragement from that because it told him that he would be able to mount her safely eventually if he made her have so many orgasms that she’d get to be exhausted and would then be content to lie still and let him indulge himself.

During the time that she took to return to near normal after her second one he was able to think up a practical method to limit the danger to himself and he needed one because he was very fearful – it was his life that was in jeopardy after all and no one can decry his timidity who hasn’t seen the uncontrollable frenzy of a large woman’s body when it is passion-driven and is heaving and writhing around. He figured that he could probably get to reach his goal, and keep his head and vital organs safe, if he experimented with using some of the safer methods of generating orgasms that he knew.

He already knew how Brenda reacted to his tongue and he wanted to find out how sensitive she was to G-spot manipulation and so he slipped a finger into her and searched it out and a second after he’d located it he got his answer as to how to best to reach his goal of satiating her.

His new plan called for him to put himself in danger by giving her two more orgasms with his tongue – he’d already learned that having them that way meant that they came at her slowly and from several levels and thus were all-encompassing and much more thorough which was, of course, necessary if she wasn’t to feel short changed, similar to what a woman would feel if she’d been promised a fancy meal and had been taken to a fast food joint – and another dozen, or so, of them with his finger. The G-spot ones could be administered safely and effortlessly and although they offered only ersatz results they were accumulative and, added to the others, were bound to take her over the top.

Sure enough, long before he’d had to give her the full dozen, she became a spent, melting, languid, placid, accepting mass.

He then safely mounted her and he pounded away at his chosen pace which was what he’d been yearning to do ever since Ben had demonstrated to the world that there was a real live woman in the offing who was also compliant.

His using her to completion didn’t made any noticeable difference to her from beginning to end as far as he could tell and she was still out of it long after he’d gotten off her, except for the emission of some deep moaning sounds which he found flattering. Because all of the women that he had ever been with had been as small, or  smaller, than he was he delighted in being able, purely for scientific research, to safely explore any and all parts of Brenda’s body as he wished, that is except for her impressive bottom because there was no way that he could turn her over. He found that the top of one of her thighs was as big around as his waist was and that he would have needed three hands to be able to get his thumbs and fingers to circle one of her breasts.

As he lifted and probed and pulled and weighed he marveled that he’d found anything the slightest bit erotic about her earlier on and also at the fact that, while the awe-inspiring whole couldn’t possibly be more than the sum of the massive parts, taken together they epitomized WOMAN, writ large, but, even so, the hole at her center was the only part that retained the slightest bit of attraction for him and that was partly because of its built in mystery and partly because of its status as the gateway to the world and partly because, by definition, it was intriguingly non-existent.

When he’d done all of the examining that he wanted to he came to the conclusion, as he threw a quilt over her, that if he had to stay in this accursed place for another week and his libido overpowered his judgment again the only way that he’d return to her bed would be if she was securely restrained and if he could put a sheet over her that had a utilizable hole in it.


Everybody knew that it was Matt’s turn next and even though he needed her as badly as the others had done he was wondering if he dared try to get it. He asked himself what if she couldn’t stand the idea of letting a black man come to her bed?

He was so affected by the thought of being rejected that he didn’t work on a plan at all and at breakfast the following morning he was looking so despondent that the others began to think that he was going to chicken out completely and were sure of it when he came down to the boat with them and made every appearance of joining them on that day’s river excursion.

At the very last minute, after he’d untied both lines had thrown them on board and had, as usual, pushed the bow out, he backed away instead of jumping into the boat and he looked down at the ground as he murmured something about wanting to try some fly fishing from a likely looking spot that he’d noticed the day before.

The others didn’t say anything ribald, or anything in the way of approval or of encouragement, because what had already happened for them, and what was presumably about to happen again for him, couldn’t, for a reason that they didn’t quite understand, be allowed to get to be formally registered as actual occurrences.


Matt screwed up his courage and when the boat had disappeared around the bend he walked up to the house and went in and made for the kitchen.

Brenda’s weight posed no problem for him because his wife was only about twenty pounds lighter than she was but what worried him was the fact that while he himself was dark brown she was not just white – she was chalk white. He had been with white women several times since he’d come north, but not since he’d gotten married, and they had all been pink or lightly tanned but this one was white, white, white. Even though the sun had been shining every day for several weeks by then her face was still the same color as the inside of her arms – like flour or long grain rice or statue marble. The fact that her hair was fair and her eyes were light blue didn’t help much either.

He was originally from Georgia and so nobody knew skin-color prejudice better than he did and if she’d been a little bit browner or if he’d been a little less dark he would have felt a whole lot better about requesting ‘some of her time’ as the sharp guys had put it when he was young.

His need for relief was, as far as he knew, every bit as urgent as that of the other two guys had been and the idea of not trying to get what might be available that could help him re-gain some stability was unacceptable for him and so, once inside the house, he doubted if he could have stopped his legs from carrying his body towards the siren that was calling to him as clear as day – ‘It’s your turn to get some, Matt baby. It’s sweet and soft and warm and it’s right here right now.’

He couldn’t know that Brenda would have been very unhappy if he hadn’t wanted to share what she had.

None of the three guys that she’d been to bed with in all of her life until two days before had given her much in the way of orgasms and while she had often given herself one she had never done it more than once and consequently had never known that having multiple ones, like Henry had given her the day before, gives pleasure that increases exponentially rather than being merely one more in a succession of equal ones. Because of that, although Henry had left her the previous morning before eleven o’clock it got to be perilously near to the time that she had to start preparing dinner for everybody before she had been able to get herself together enough to get up and get dressed and go to the kitchen.

Ben hadn’t needed to do anything special to get her to feel marvelous because just being touched by him was enough but Henry had really surprised her and had satisfied her down to her toes and so now she was determined to take advantage of the probably-never-to-be-repeated situation to get herself some more good loving. She also wanted to know if it was true what people said about black men, and to find out how they – uh – wielded it.


She felt a rush of relief and a spreading warmth at her center when she heard Matt start to say something about getting a glass of water and she immediately turned and brushed his words aside and she held out her hand to him and she said, “Come with me, Matt. Fair’s fair. It’s your turn.”

 She didn’t get to pull the curtain across in her room because a second after she’d closed the door behind them he was all over her. He never knew if his over-enthusiasm was due to fear of last minute rejection or to unbearable need but what they both knew was that, after a few kisses and some ‘Just so we know who’s in charge here’ handling he moved her by main force, as if she was a mere slip of a girl, over to her bed and got her to sit on it and then he raised her dress and pulled at her panties and when he’d disposed of them he made her lie back and because he was only wearing a shirt and pants and sneakers they all came off in seconds and when she saw what was in the offing for her she was appalled and she mentally girded her loins, so to speak, to get ready for the action.

When he’d climbed on top of her she opened up as best she knew and then she quickly learned how to open up some more and then even more but it still wasn’t enough and so she was reduced to praying that she wouldn’t get injured as she let him get on with it.

When he’d flooded her his relief, and the intensity of his pleasure, put his whole body into a kind of limbo of contentment and when he got to be aware of his surroundings again he found that she’d pushed him off her and was exploring his body.

Her center was sore, but not split in half as she’d feared, and as he was lolling on her she got to realize that, because they both weighed about the same, for the first time in her adult life she didn’t feel the need to be apologetic nor did she feel the least bit ungainly.

After ten minutes or so she rolled him off her because she’d never been with a colored guy before and she wanted to check his body out.

She got to be fascinated by the contrast between his skin and hers when in juxtaposition.  Also, the hair on his chest and on his belly, and on down, was tightly curled, as was the hair on his head, and on his upper thighs it was close to being black fur. Touching it was exciting in its own right but being able to see her white fingers comb its blackness was mesmerizing for her.

When he showed some signs of life – by doing some strategic grabbing – she got off the bed and he feared that the session was over but she’d done so only to be able to take the rest of her clothes off. She’d realized from the his automatic reaction that he wasn’t the slightest bit intimidated by her, nor was he repulsed by her body after using it, and that meant that he was going to stick around for a while.

She re-joined him on the bed and she let him have a turn at intimate exploration and it became immediately obvious that he knew his way around a big girl’s equipment.

Once again, watching his black hands caress her body, the contrast gave her a great deal of pleasure and seeing his curly topped head as he nuzzled at her center was such an exotically unaccustomed sight for her that she enjoyed it almost as much as what his tongue was doing for her.

 Much later she got up when she felt hungry and she brought some lunch to bed for them both and after she’d taken the tray of dirty dishes back to the kitchen, to clear the decks for action, she had the good sense to set her alarm clock for four o’clock because the fishing trips usually ended at around five.


The following Friday morning Ben got a call on his cell phone from the town police chief and was told that the majority of the mud slide had been bull-dozed away and that a patrolman was going to leave for his place soon, along with a mechanic, and he’d be driving a big Suburban – in case some towing was needed – and that Ben was to expect them at around lunch time.

After telling them all what he’d been told Brenda asked him to please call the Chief back and ask him if he’d be kind enough to have the policeman who was coming up to bring some eggs and milk and bread with him but Ben said that a cop couldn’t be asked any such thing. He did, however, call an acquaintance of his in town and asked him to please buy the items that she’d mentioned and take them to the Police Station right away and ask if he could put them in the Suburban.

 After Matt’s turn with Brenda, on the Wednesday, none of the men had made any moves on her for the rest of the week – Ben and Henry because the very thought of touching her again made their stomachs queasy and although Matt would have liked nothing better than to take her to bed every afternoon he didn’t because of a sense of solidarity with the other two in that he figured that they thought that having to do it once was understandable and was due to the force of nature but doing it again would border on exploitation, besides inviting possible repercussions.

Brenda didn’t mind that much because she was used to having to be self-sufficient and she was grateful for what they’d already given her, Henry and Matt especially, and she knew that she could call on her memories through the rest of the time that she was up there. She was sure of another thing too and that was that when she got home she would have an entirely different attitude about men, and about commitment, and would try to find herself either a Chinese man who had black skin or a big black man who had slanted eyes. Or both.


The following year, on a weekday afternoon, when Henry and Matt – who had become good friends – came back from lunch the security guard at the main gate told them that the boss man wanted to see them at once.

When they walked into his office Ben, who was wearing a grin from here to here, closed the door behind them and said that he’d just had a phone call from Brenda’s sister and she’d told him that no one had known that Brenda, being a really big girl all around, was pregnant until her water had broken at ten thirty that morning and she wasn’t sure if Brenda had known about it either!

“Anyway, she told me that her sister gave birth to a beautiful baby boy just after noon at their local hospital in Englewood and it was really big – eight pounds and six ounces – but even so it had slithered most of the way out, unaided, about two seconds after she’d put her feet up into the stirrups in the delivery room.

“I told her to tell Brenda,” Ben went on to say after he’d handed out glasses and was opening a bottle of champagne, “that we are all going to finish work early and we’ll get there at around four o’clock. Man! I’m really looking forward to seeing my son for the first time.”

“What do you mean, ‘your son’?” asked Henry as he put one hand over his glass to stop Ben from pouring. “Brenda’s sister told you that the baby was beautiful, didn’t she? Well then, everybody knows that Asian babies are the most beautiful ones in the world. So, we’ll be going to see my son.”

Matt put his glass down and said, “I don’t know what’s wrong with you guys. How come you didn’t pick up on the truth of it already? Didn’t her sister say that the baby is BIG and beautiful? Big, you hear, but even so it slid right out with no trouble. Well, both of my wives gave birth very easily too after I’d reamed them out so right there is more evidence that I’m this one’s father and when we go up there it’ll be to see my son.”

Ben was well used to making on-his-feet on-the-spot decisions but that time nothing came to his mind and so he walked back behind his desk and sat down to give himself a little thinking time. He gestured that the other two should sit down too and, after a few minutes of silence, he looked at them and said, “All right, here’s what I think we should do. Seeing that we can never know for certain who the actual father is – that is unless we check all of our DNA’s against the baby’s and I don’t think that any of us will want to do that, true? . . . . Yes, I thought you’d agree. It wouldn’t be right, would it? Not when you remember that our semen was in her at the same time and so it was a combined effort that got the job done. Am I correct? . . . Of course I am. So what do you say to our being joint fathers? The kid will have three fathers and think of the advantages that that’ll give him? Hey? . . .

“So. It’s agreed? . . . Good. Well now, hold out your glasses and let me fill them . . . . there.

“So. Here’s to our son – health and happiness . . . . . ”

“Yeah, health and happiness.”

“Right on. Health and happiness.”

“Good. Now, what say I call back and tell her that we’re coming to see the kid right away – as soon as we’ve emptied this bottle? . . . Uh Huh. Uh, here, have one of these cigars. The matches are on the . . . . . OK. Uh, d’you think we’ll be able to come up with a name for him on the drive up there?”

His question prompted all three of them to think about it right there and then and they all came up with a name before they even got into the limo.

Ben thought that ‘Benjamin Hackle’ had a nice ring to it and Henry knew that Henry, or Hank, was the best possible first name for a boy especially seeing that it would add alliteration to the mix, viz – ‘Henry Hackle’ and Matt was quite sure that a boy named ‘Matt Hackle’ was bound to go far in whatever sport he chose to follow.

 The Gynecologist who was on duty when Brenda had been wheeled into the delivery room was the one who’d inadvertently influenced the choice of a name for the boy because when she found out that Brenda hadn’t known that she was pregnant until an hour or two earlier, when her waters had broken, and that the child had just about delivered itself, she said that it was, “A miracle baby.”

Brenda had latched on to the last part of ‘miracle’ because it sounded close to her surname and then it came to her that it could be made the anchor of what she knew was the perfect name for him so she took a little time to come up with the first three initials and was surprised at how easy it was for her.

 ‘Michael’ was the name of the boy who’d ignored her all through High School and it was his face that had shown up in all of her vaguely erotic dreams until she’d been introduced to the real thing nine months earlier and after that she had solidly erotic dreams and Matt’s face, and his main attribute, was the one that was always present.

‘Irving’ was her father’s name and she’d only found that out when she was twelve years old – her mother had always refused to talk about it or to answer her questions about him and still did to the present day – and was at a Fourth of July family party when a second cousin of hers who had drunk away his common sense had shown her some much appreciated attention which had made it easy for him to persuade her to go ‘for a little walk’ with him into the woods behind the house.

In her younger years she’d played the usual amount of ‘doctors’ with her siblings and her young relatives so she wasn’t too apprehensive about what was sure to come at her even though he was an adult. When they were well out of anyone’s sight he’d led her to a stump and after sitting on it he’d insisted that she was to come and sit next to him. She was proud of her already nicely formed breasts and so – when she’d seen that not only were his hands clean but so were his finger-nails and that was something that was very new to her – she  gave him full access to them but then, much too soon, his hands started wandering in a way that was far too authoritative for her taste and so she pushed his hands away and tried to stand up.

By then he was fully aroused and so, to get her to stay, he promised to tell her all about her father if she’d do so.

That got her attention all right and so she sat back down and then, to keep him interested seeing that he’d evidently had enough of touching and kissing her breasts, she put his hand on her upper thigh but she held it still as she waited for some details.

“His name was ‘Irving Hurzoff’ and he was an itinerant salesman. That means that he traveled around and had no fixed store. He had a big van with ‘Irving Hurzoff – DRAPERIES AND FINE GOODS’ written on both sides and at the rear and he came to town twice a year just before the Easter and Labor Day holidays and the town-fairs were – uh – in full cry. The vendors’ stalls formed a half circle on the common and they all stayed there for ten days so that they could encompass two weekends. Like most of them, Irving parked his van behind his spot and then he pulled out a side awning and rigged an enclosure and he put out tables and benches and he sold curtain and dress material and, well, things like that, by the yard, you know? Well,”  – here he took advantage of the fact that she was enthralled, and was hanging on his every word, to free up his hand and then he eased it back to the same place but this time underneath her dress and then, after getting no protests nor exclamations, further on up into what was never-seen-the-light-of-day territory as he continued with the story – “one day your mother,” here he had to pause to catch a breath because his fingers had touched the warm edge of her panties – “who was around seventeen or eighteen at the time, was sent into town to buy some – uh – some lace, or whatever. Well now, this Irving, who evidently liked well-built young women, chatted her up and then asked her for a date that night and he took her to the movies and then to a café.”

At that point Brenda opened her legs a little: partly to reward him for telling the story in the first place and partly to keep him interested and partly because to her, after all those years of knowing nothing about her father, getting felt up was small-cheese indeed compared to what she was hearing.

In response he immediately moved his hand in and around until his middle finger could reach its goal and he was careful about easing it passed her intact, horseshoe shaped hymen.

“Well,” he went on when he was delightedly sure of his ground, “I don’t know what he promised her or how he did it but I do know that just after lunchtime the next day she was seen going around the back of his van, where she left her bike, and then she opened the passenger side door and climbed over the seat to get into the back where he had one of those camp-bed things. The guy who ran the stall next to his covered for him for the hour or so that they needed. Well, she went there to see him every afternoon until the last day of the fair when all the vendors, including Irving, packed up and pulled out and went on to their next location.”

By this time her story teller needed relief so badly that he had to uncover himself and when he’d done so he put Brenda’s hand on it and showed her what he wanted her to do with it.

The only ones that she’d seen before were soft and finger-sized and so she was appalled at how big his was but, still fascinated with having her family history being unfolded for her and eager for more, she complied but she went very slowly as she pleaded with him to go on.

“Well,” he said, as he was trying to persuade himself that it would be all right to force her in a few minutes seeing that, although she was only twelve, she was big enough and so surely she was old enough too, “nothing happened until the time for the next town fair came around and when Irving had parked his van behind his spot and was about to get out he was delighted to see your mother standing right there. He probably hoped that that meant that they could continue where they’d left off six months earlier but then she stepped back and he wasn’t a bit delighted to see that her belly was swollen out to here.”

He made the spell-bound girl speed her hand up until she’d reached the rhythm that he liked best and then he went on, “Neither did he like the fact that the grim faced man who was standing next to her turned out to be her father.

“Again I don’t know how Irving did it but somehow he got them to agree to going with him to get a coffee and, ‘talk about it.’ Well, by agreeing to their every stipulation and by making many promises, he was able to sweet-talk them into giving him twenty four hours to arrange for a fast marriage certificate at the Borough Hall and to find a preacher who would ‘do the splicing.’ When he’d explained that he couldn’t move his van until all of the others did so too they reluctantly agreed to his terms and they went on home.”

He was about to go on but he got overcome at that point and he shouted out, “Oh, Jesus! Oh! Yes! . . . . Oh, Jesus H. Christ! Let go and get off me girl.”

He couldn’t go on and because he hadn’t assembled enough moral-circumventing material to outright force her to lie down for him – nor could he wait for her inept massaging to do the job for him – he got up and turned and fell to his knees and put his forehead on the stump and then he took on the task himself.

What followed wasn’t a pretty sight for her but it did leave her with a lasting impression as to the intensity of the force that was driving him and, because of that, she was careful to never be alone with an adult male again and she held to it until she was all grown up.

When he’d covered himself up and was resting on the stump again he bargained with her – he’d finish the story if she’d promise to not tell anyone what had happened – and when she’d readily agreed to his terms he went on, “Well, as you’d guess, that was the last time that Irving was ever seen and the guy who showed up the next day to open the stall for business told them, and, later on at her father’s insistence, to a policeman who took notes, that he’d received a telephone call from an acquaintance of his, Irving Hurzoff, the day before and he’d invited him to drive up if he wanted to buy his, Irving’s, van along with his complete stock that same day and he was to bring his checkbook with him. When they were face to face they’d bargained back and fore and he’d wound up paying him about a half of what it was all worth plus a half of the estimated take over the coming ten days – all in advance.

Without being asked he volunteered, having seen the young woman’s big belly, ‘I don’t know if Irving is married or not but I don’t think so. And no, I don’t know where he is now.’

 “There,” said her newly calmed and thoroughly relaxed second cousin, “now you know, right? That’s the whole story so what do you say about going back to the party so that I can get me another drink? Thanks a lot for – uh – for what you did for me Brenda but will you please remember your promise? Yes? It was only a bit of fun, right? No harm done. Good girl. Well now, maybe you’d better go ahead and I’ll come along in a few minutes from a different direction. So long, Brenda and thanks again. I really needed that.”

     So that was the reason why she’d picked ‘Michael’ and ‘Irving’ and the ‘R’ that she needed came from the nurse who’d helped her get back onto the bed from the gurney. Her name tag had read – “Roberta Martinez, RN.”

 She was feeding her baby for the first time, each of her breasts was twice the size of his head and she marveled at the juxtaposition and she guessed that that surely had to make him feel really content as far as his immediate future was concerned, when her sister was told that there was a phone call for her at the front desk. When she got back she said that it had been from, ‘The boss with the swinging dick,’ – so called by every member of the staff in the mansion to distinguish him from his wife and daughters who were prone to giving out orders peremptorily to all and sundry no matter what their actual jobs were. For example, one of them had told an upstairs maid who was scurrying along a corridor with her arms full of bed linen to go and get her an aspirin and a glass of water and another one had handed her baby to the Cook, who was waiting in the living room to consult Madam about that evening’s dinner menu, and had told her that it needed changing – and he’d said that he and Matt and Henry were coming to see the baby right away and they’d be there, “that is ‘here’,” in an hour or less.

Brenda needed time to absorb the message and to figure out its full import but when she’d done so a huge smile spread across her face and she lifted the baby free of her breast, which made him cry, of course, and when she’d soothed and burped him, also for the first time, she kissed and cradled him and – not having been given much notice of her coming motherhood – she sang the only lullaby that she could bring to mind:

“Your Pappies are RICH . . . and your Ma is good look-Kin . . . so hush . . little baby . . . clo-hose your ey-eyes.”

 When the three fathers had finished ‘Oooohing’ and chucking the baby’s cheeks and asking it stupid questions like, “Are these your toes then? Are these your little toes?” they all started in on trying to influence Brenda in the matter of naming the child and were disconcerted when she told them that she’d already done so. She pointed to the tag that was pinned to the side of his crib and they saw that the nurse had written on it, ‘Hackle, Boy – 8 lbs 6 ounces – 22 inches – 12-33 pm – 4-5-10,’ and that Brenda had written, “Michael Irving Robert” in front of the surname.

When Ben E.S. Quire read the tag it only took him a second or two to ‘get’ it and then he smiled and thought, “Whether or not it was one of my sperms that had reached her egg first there’s no doubt at all that my semen added ‘whimsy’ to her mental make-up.”