Chapter 43

   For Marian, the feel of his hands on her breasts was unlike anything she
had ever experienced.  He cupped them, and squeezed, moving his fingers to
splay across them, holding them like they were some precious egg he was
afraid to break.  Her reaction to his touch, so gentle, and yet so
insistent, was lessened only by the fact that his erection pressing into
her buttocks made her think of the last time Harvey had touched her there.
There had been no pleasure in that for her, and more pain than she had
thought she would be able to bear.  For that reason alone, she turned
again, to press her breasts against his chest.  She could still feel his
erection, but now it was something exciting, reminding her insistently that
she was, in fact, desirable.  Her hands rested on the front of his
shoulders.

   "Are you going to try to kiss me now?" she asked softly.

   He didn't ask.  He just kissed.  His kiss, like his touch, was soft, but
insistent.  She was surprised to feel his tongue pressing against her lips,
in a way she had never kissed before.  Her surprise made her lips open,
and, rather than being disgusted, she was delighted at the amazingly
intimate feel.  Tentatively she let her own tongue touch his, and suddenly
she couldn't breathe.  Her hands pushed at his shoulders gently, and he
stopped kissing her.  Her eyes were still closed, but she opened her mouth
and took in a deep breath.

   "How rude of me," he said.  "I didn't answer your question.  Yes, I'm
going to try to kiss you now."

   The next kiss made something happen to their bodies, which began rubbing
against each other as her hands slid over his shoulders and onto his back.
Marian had the fleeting thought that she was just going to have to throw
this pair of panties away.  Not even laundering would remove what she was
soaking them with right now.  Then she was lost in the kiss again.

   After that kiss, he held her, staring into her eyes.

   "Are we at the point yet where you ravish me?" he asked.  "Because I'm
really, REALLY ready to be ravished."

   "I can't understand any of this," Marian said softly, gazing into his
eyes.  "I'm just not the sort of woman who does these kinds of things with
a man she hardly knows.  I've only kissed one other man besides my late
husband, and that was when I was fifteen."

   "Well, then, I'd have to say your late husband was a pretty good
kisser."

   "My late husband rarely kissed me at all," she said.  "My late husband
was not one who used ...  romance ...  in our relationship."

   "My ex-wife accused me of being homosexual one time, because I prepared
a candle-lit dinner, and bought new sheets for the bed, and arranged
flowers and fixed up the house.  She said a real man wouldn't pussy-foot
around like that, and would take what he wanted." Bob didn't sound pleased
about that.

   "Your ex-wife would have loved my late husband," said Marian.  She
ground her mons against his erection gently.  "Any woman worth her salt
would be able to tell you're no homosexual."

   "I neglected to show you the house," said Bob, suddenly.  "I'm being
awfully rude tonight." He kissed the corner of her lips lightly.  "Of
course, all there is is the kitchen, bathroom and ...  bedroom.

   "I must admit, I wondered what a single man's bedroom might look like,"
she sighed.  "Just from the perspective of how it's decorated, of course."

   "Of course," he agreed, pushing his prick against her just as gently as
she had pressed against him.  "Would you like to see mine?  I'm a single
man, you know."

   Bob was finally beginning to understand the complex and highly
sophisticated psyche of this fascinating woman.  Her culture demanded that
certain proprieties be observed, at least in terms of being given lip
service.  At the same time, she was willing to actually DO things that
she'd never admit to doing.  She wasn't teasing, exactly, though there was
a bit of that in there.  Instead she was arriving at an unspoken consensus
with him about what to do.  "Are you going to try to kiss me?" had actually
meant "I want you to kiss me, please." He had never played this complicated
game, almost a sexual dance, but it was fun, and there were all sorts of
possibilities that would otherwise have not been possible.

   He already had an idea for his next gambit.

   He took her hand and led her to the bedroom, where he began to show it
to her in detail.  She had mentioned decoration, and he honored that, by
talking about his choice of colors, and where the furniture came from, and
why it was arranged the way it was.

   "I've tried very hard to make into the room where I want to be all the
time," he said.  "But something has always been missing."

   "What's that?" she asked, still holding his hand.

   "Would you be willing to try a little experiment in decorating with me?"
he asked.

   "Perhaps," she said.

   "Could I get you to lie artfully on the bed?" he suggested.  "Fully
clothed, of course."

   "Of course," she agreed.

   She crawled on the bed, being modest with her skirt, and he played at
arranging her on it, putting a pillow here, propping her up there.  Then he
stood back and looked.

   "It's close," he said, his chin in his hand.  "It's much better, but
it's still not quite there."

   "What do you think would help?" she asked.

   "Well, you know, in all those fancy magazines, the girl on the bed
usually has on only her underthings."

   "You want me to take off everything but my underthings?" she asked, one
eyebrow arched.

   "Just for the sake of experiment, of course," he said.

   "Of course," she agreed, smiling gently.

   She got off the bed gracefully, and stood, facing away from him.  With
practiced fingers, she unbuttoned her blouse.  She let it fall down her
shoulders, resisting the urge to look over her shoulder at him like a vamp.
She pushed down her skirt, and stepped out of it.  She felt foolish wearing
shoes, so she stepped out of them too, leaving her clad only in bra,
panties, and matching hose, held up by the garter belt.  She had never
dressed this way for Harvey.  No man alive had ever seen her dressed like
this.  She was suddenly glad her panties were black, and hoped they weren't
dripping.

   She turned around, resisting the urge to cover her breasts.  She knew
the bra was almost, if not completely transparent, and that her
honey-colored pubic hairs were light enough to show through the filmy black
panties, and yet, she felt completely clothed somehow.

   "Like this?" she almost whispered.

   The look on his face, one of raw hunger, was not communicated in his
voice.

   "Yes, I think that's more like what's in the magazines."

   "And you want me ...  on the bed?" Now the double entendre was all hers,
and he sucked in breath.

   "Ahhh ...  yes ...  please."

   She crawled back onto the bed, and settled herself back against the pile
of pillows, draping her arms over them.  Then she didn't know what to do
with her legs.  Just straight out seemed to stiff.  She couldn't spread
them.  She finally decided to turn her hips sideways, and bend the knees,
keeping her legs together.  She looked at Bob.  She almost giggled as she
saw that the front of his pants was tented almost obscenely.  She had never
felt so powerful, or so in control of a man in her entire life.

   "Is this better?"

   "Oh yes," he sighed.  "The room looks so much better than before." He
tilted his head, and held up his hands, with his thumbs touching and his
forefingers straight up, making a U shape and looking through it, like a
movie director.

   "It's very close now to what I had in mind.  It's not perfect, but very
close."

   "What seems to be the problem now?" she asked.  She stretched, as if she
was tired, and thrust her breasts out.  She felt like a slut, but not the
same kind of slut she'd felt like with Harvey.  This was a clean, sweet
slut, who just wanted to have fun, and didn't care whether it was naughty
to have that fun.

   "I'm not sure," he said, stepping closer.  "It may be that the black
you're wearing is clashing with the tan sheets, and the brown in the wood
of the headboard.

   "I thought black went with everything," she said.

   "Usually, yes.  But in this case, the two browns compliment each other.
Your skin tones are perfect, as it your hair color, but the black seems
jarring somehow."

   "And if I didn't have all this black on ...  it might look perfect?"

   "I'm convinced of it," he said, holding his breath.

   "Well, if you're convinced of it already, then I suppose the problem is
solved," she said brightly.  "All you have to do is find a woman with my
skin tones, and my hair color, without black underthings on, and your room
will look just the way you want it to."

   She almost laughed at the pained and disappointed look on his face.  He
did not give up, though.

   "Well, right now it's just a theory.  I really think we need to create
the actual look ...  you know ...  just so we'll know for sure."

   "You want me to take off these black underthings?" she asked, her voice
sounding surprised.

   "Ohhhh pleeease," he begged.  Then he wiped his face clear.  "I mean
yes, just to make sure.  Just as an experiment, of course."

   "Of course," she agreed.

   Part of Marian's mind could not believe what she was doing.  But the
rest of her mind was having so much fun being a vamp like this, that she
threw caution to the winds.  She knew quite clearly that if she got naked
in front of this man, that important, serious, and very intimate things
would follow.  It wasn't that she urgently wanted them to happen - not on a
conscious level, anyway.  She had no idea what it would be like.  She might
hate it afterwards.  On the other hand, she might not.  She knew she wanted
SOMETHING to happen.  This was just too much fun to stop now.

   She sat up, reached between the cups of the bra, and undid the front
catch.  She liked this front catch idea.  It made things so much more
graceful.  Knowing that if she waited she might chicken out, she shrugged
the bra straps off her shoulders, and pulled one arm out of them.  She had
no idea that would make her breasts jump and jiggle deliciously when she
did it.  She heard Bob's gasp, and simply thought he was amazed that she'd
actually done it.  She lay back against the pillows again.  She felt her
nipples tighten and crinkle and looked down to see them erect, standing
away from her breast flesh like little soldiers at attention.

   "Is this better?" she asked.

   "Oh yes!" he said immediately.  "Much better ...  but there's still some
black."

   "If this looks better already, I don't want to move and disturb the
pose. Would you consider assisting me?" she asked.

   "Nothing would please me more," he panted.

   He moved to the bed as she straightened her legs.  He tentatively
grasped the straps of the panties, where they went over her hips, and she
lifted her buttocks to let him pull them down.  They stuck to her pussy. 
She had to spread her legs, and he pulled them wetly away.  His hands slid
them down her legs as she lifted them and bent her knees, and then moved
immediately to the tops of her hose, which he freed from the garter belt.
He rolled each one down, until it was a ball on her toes and dropped each
one on the floor.  The closure for the garter belt was in the back, and she
rolled, cringing a little as she presented her buttocks to him.  His
fingers worked the catch, and then slid gently up her spine to her hair.

   He stepped back, and stared at her as she rolled back into position,
completely naked.  Again she was amazed at his self control.

   He said "Perfect," softly.  "If my room were always like this, I'd never
want to leave."

   "It looks pretty good from here too," she said.  "Except the you
standing there looks a little awkward.  And this bed is much too big for
just one person to be on, don't you think?"

   "Oh, well of course it's designed for two persons," he agreed.  "And if
I were in my room all the time, I'd spend a lot of time there."

   "Well I just don't see how you can say it's perfect if the bed is too
big, and you're standing there where you won't be.  And it also looks silly
for me to be naked, and you to have all your clothes on.  Any fifth grader
would tell you that.  Either I need to find something to put on that goes
with the sheets and the headboard, or you need to take your clothes off and
get on the bed too."

   He smiled.  "You are right, of course.  I'm afraid I have nothing else
for you to wear.  Perhaps we might find something suitable at some future
date.  For now, it's only fair that I take my clothes off too.  I should
have thought of that."

   "Yes, you should have," said Marian.

   He was as unashamed about it as she had been, but didn't tease her.  He
simply dropped his clothing and then stood to let her see what she did to
him.  She had only seen one penis in her life that was stiff like this. 
Harvey had not been circumcised.  Bob was.  It gave his penis an entirely
different appearance, with highs and lows and shape to it.  It looked like
a club.

   "I thought you said you didn't have a club," she said.

   He looked confused for a second, and then remembered their conversation
about the cave man.

   "This one is for decoration only.  Actually, it's for you to use, and
not me."

   "Oh," she said, moving over.  "I suppose that's all right then."

   She knew, as his weight came onto the bed, that the game was over. 
Somehow he knew that too.  He embraced her, as she rolled to face him.  His
tongue was insistent now, and his hands smoothed all over her back and
buttocks.  It was almost like a massage.  She rolled back to let him get to
her breasts, and shivered as he fondled them.  He didn't hesitate, and ran
his hand straight down her belly and between her legs, pressing and
rubbing. They had spent fully twenty minutes teasing each other without
touching, drawing the seduction out, but once he was against her she wanted
him immediately.  She no longer cared that she was acting like a slut.  He
was gentle and caring, and she desperately wanted to know what it felt like
to be made love to by a gentle and caring man.

   One result was that it was difficult to separate out what felt the best.
At the same time his lips sucked at her nipples, his fingers rubbed and
pulled at her clit.  As he rolled on top of her, his skin felt smooth and
soft at the same time his tongue felt slippery and hot in her mouth.  As
she spread her legs and he eased himself into her, his mouth went to her
nipples again and she thought she'd faint from the joy of her whole body
feeling wonderful all at the same time.

   He didn't pound her like Harvey had.  He didn't thrust rapidly, reaching
for his own release while forgetting hers.  Sometimes he stopped moving
altogether, holding himself deep inside her and crushing her clit.  He
rolled them over and pushed her up to sit, impaled upon him, another new
thing she'd never thought of before.  It put her in complete control, and
she had her first orgasm that way.  She was sad, lying down on him because
it was over so soon.  She'd never had more than one orgasm with Harvey, and
quite often she didn't even get one.

   She was therefore astounded when his hands on her buttocks moved her on
him, bringing back the thrill of anticipation.  She sat back up, her eyes
wide, and began to move on him again.  He played with her breasts, lifting
them, pulling gently at them, squeezing the nipples lightly, as she let
another orgasm flow through her astonished body.  She felt like a queen as
his adoring eyes drank in her naked form, and felt no shame at all.

   Then he rolled her over and, after twenty or thirty more languid
strokes, he gave her his seed.  He didn't ask, and she didn't care.

   Harvey had been fucking her for years, whenever he felt the need, or
whenever she did.  She had stopped worrying about getting pregnant when she
simply didn't any more.  She knew there was some change that came over
women when they got older, and just assumed that had happened to her, even
though she still bled each month.  Her knowledge of "the change" was very
sketchy.  It wasn't talked about by women in those days, at least not
between women of her age.  She had no way of knowing she was much too young
for menopause to rob her of fertility.  She had no way of knowing that
Harvey's weight, the whiskey he drank, and the tight banded underwear he
had used to hold his expanding gut in had sapped the virility of the few
sperm cells his balls produced.

   She also had no way of knowing that Bob suffered from none of these
maladies, and that when HE flushed her full of sperm, they were quite
viable and imminently capable of penetrating the eggs she was still
dropping monthly.

   All she cared about at that moment, was that she had been made love to,
by a man who found her attractive, and who liked her in spite of her flaws
...  a man who treated her like a lady.  That she liked this man was just
frosting on the cake.

   ========================

   She did stay the night, unable to resist cuddling in warm comfort and
sleeping with this man who had made her feel really alive for the first
time in years.  When he rolled against her in the night, she welcomed his
hands, and his lovely orgasm-producing penis, as it again bathed her womb
in hot seed.  The only thing that drove her out of his bed in the morning
was his job, and her need to appear at the farm before policemen everywhere
started looking for her.

   His request to see her again was met with a "Yes!" before he even
finished asking the question.

   ========================

   When Marian parked the station wagon, and got out, she knew she looked a
mess, and felt like she should be dragging her feet.  There had been much
less sleep the night before than she was used to.  He had wakened her
twice, in the darkness.  She knew that between her legs, where there were
no longer any panties, she was still slick with his spend.  But she somehow
had the energy of a teenager again as she almost skipped into the house. 
Nathan was sitting at the table, still in his uniform, reading a paper and
drinking a cup of coffee.  The remains of breakfast had been pushed off to
one side.

   He glanced up at her, and she saw a tiny smile start to form at the
corners of his lips.  That tiny smile, even though he obviously stopped it
from maturing, sent the thrill of acceptance through her again.

   "Good morning, Darling," she said, as if she was simply returning from
the market.

   "Morning, Mamma," he said.  "Guess you had a good time, huh?"

   "I'm a grown woman," she said, challenging him before he challenged her.

   "You are," he said simply.

   "Yes, I am," she said, not knowing what to do when he didn't challenge
her back.

   He stood, leaving the rest of his coffee.  "Guess I'll hit the sack.  It
was a long night.  I'm glad you had a good time.  We all are."

   She was overwhelmed at the acceptance he offered, without speaking a
word of it.  She didn't actually think about the fact that he might have
learned that from her, when she accepted his relationship with Flossie, or
that he might be having just as much trouble performing that act of
acceptance.  She just let the feeling of freedom flow through her body and
mind.  She went to him and hugged him.

   "Thank you," she said softly into his chest.

   "You're welcome, Mamma," he said, squeezing her briefly.  "I think I'll
sleep first, and shower later," he said as she heard him sniff.  "That will
leave the bathroom open for you."

   She blushed, realizing she must smell like a whore house.  His oblique
comment on that, though, so much like the oblique way she had let Bob
seduce her last night, didn't feel threatening.

   "I'll just get freshened up and go help the girls," she said, assuming
they were already out in the orchard.  She hadn't seen them in the garden.

   ========================

   Her daughters were nowhere near as easy-going about her night away from
home as her son had been.  They were, to their minds, properly scandalized,
and completely disregarded her former acceptance of their own scandalizing
behavior.  On the other hand, once they had chastised her for her obviously
loose behavior on her first date, they then demanded that she tell them all
the details.

   "Did he like the things I picked out for you?" asked Hilda Mae, her face
flushed.  The only "things" Hilda Mae had picked out were her
undergarments. Bernadette had helped her choose the rest of her outfit.

   "He liked them so well he kept part of the ...  ensemble," Marian said,
feeling completely and gloriously thrilled with the ease she felt talking
about something so intimate.

   Hilda Mae squealed and pushed her sister.  "I TOLD you it was perfect
for her!" she said, obviously winning an argument.  She turned back to her
mother.  "When are you going to see him again?" she asked excitedly.

   "Who says I am?" asked Marian, hiding her smile by turning away.

   "Mamma!" yelped her younger daughter.  "You can't just go off and spend
the night with a man ...  ESPECIALLY on your first date ...  and then just
act like it didn't happen!"

   "And you know this because of your own extensive ...  dating
experience?" said Marian, bending over to pick up a shovel.

   "I had dates," said her daughter, sounding wounded.  "We just didn't
KNOW they were dates, at the time!"

   "You ARE going to see him again ...  aren't you?" asked Bernadette,
sounding worried.

   "You just all but called me a tramp, and you want me to keep acting that
way?" asked Marian, standing up.

   "We want you to be happy," said Bernadette, also sounding defensive.

   "I'm very happy," said Marian.  "I'm exceedingly happy, and yes, I'm
going to see him again."

   Then it subsided into a hundred questions, about where they went, and
what they did, and what they saw, and before she knew it, Marian was
divulging very intimate details about the whole night.  At one point she
couldn't believe she was talking with her daughters about what it was like
for a strange man to see her naked.

   "Oh, we know all about that," said Hilda Mae in a matter-of-fact voice.

   That was when Marian learned about the skinny-dipping, and the fact that
all the men on the farm had seen her daughters naked for hours on end.  She
couldn't help but wish she'd known that when she walked in on Johnnie Sue
and her blood brothers.  It suddenly made a lot of things a lot more clear.

   It also made her feel a lot better about what she had been doing.  She
was quite aware that she had done things at an unbelievably rapid pace, but
she had never felt as alive, or as giddy, or as happy or a dozen other
emotions, as she did when she was with Bob.  It just felt right somehow.

   And her daughters' more or less calm acceptance of her decisions meant
as much to her, as hers had to them.

   ========================

   Marian did see Bob again.  And again and again and again, until she felt
like she'd known him all her life.  Still, she always met him in the city.
While he seemed unbiased about most things, she still wasn't comfortable
with him meeting the mixture of races that populated the place where she
lived.

   He never pushed that.  She talked about her children, even a little
about their spouses, but that was all it was - talk.  He sent her flowers,
and took her to dinner, and a time came when she was lying beside him, her
hand wrapped around his stiff penis.

   It was a Saturday morning after a Friday on which he'd had an evening
adult education class, and they hadn't been able to go out.  She could only
stay until noon, because, for once, all the men were off work on the same
day, and a party was planned that afternoon.

   She had awakened Bob by letting herself in with the key he'd given her,
stripping naked, and crawling into his bed.  They hadn't made love yet. 
They both loved to drag it out, almost like that first night, teasing each
other until they were panting with desire.  This morning, for whatever
reason, Marian thought again about that time she had walked in on Johnnie
Sue, and seeing her pale nose pressed against Jesse's dark loins.

   She looked at Bob, who was just lying there enjoying what she was doing
to him.

   "Can I ask you a question?  A personal question?" she asked.

   Bob lifted his head and stared at her hand, slowly stroking him.  "I
think we're comfortable enough to ask each other personal things." He
grinned as she squeezed him.

   "Have you ever heard of a woman using her mouth to love a man?" She
blushed, afraid that she was speaking perversion.

   "Yes," he said simply.  "I didn't think that was something you'd be
comfortable ...  talking about."

   "Do you think that's ...  perverted?" she asked.

   "I don't think anything is perverted if both people consent to it," he
replied.

   "If I wanted to ...  If I thought about that ...  you wouldn't think I
was perverted?"

   "If I wanted to do the same thing to you would you think it was
perverted?" he asked.

   It had never occurred to Marian that it could work both ways.

   "Um ...  well ...  I guess my first answer would be yes," she said,
feeling confused.  "But I think that's because I never heard of that
before."

   "Well," he said calmly.  "Perhaps we should experiment a little, and
then we could make up our minds." He smiled.  "So far, experimentation has
led us to some very nice things."

   ========================

   An hour later, when Marian felt like she could barely scrape up the
energy to just breathe, Bob flopped down beside her.

   "Well," he panted.  "Do you feel perverted?" He didn't let her answer.
"You can, if you want, but I don't."

   Her hand went and flopped on his stomach.

   "How unhappy would you be if I told you I might be falling in love with
you?" she asked.

   "That, my dear, is just hormones talking.  My father told me never to
tell a woman I loved her while I was making love TO her.  He said it's bad
form, and causes people to make decisions when they aren't clear headed."

   "We're not making love any more," she said.

   "Oh yes we are," he countered, rolling over, half on top of her and
reaching for a breast.

   She stopped him.  "If this is all just for fun ...  I think I can live
with that.  That's not how I'm built ...  at least I don't think I'm built
that way, but I can live with it.  I do need to know, though, if that's all
this is."

   He frowned.  "There are things you don't know about me ...  things I
haven't felt like would matter so far.  But if you're getting serious about
this - and I feel pretty serious too - then that changes things, and I have
to come clean with you."

   "Come clean with me about what?" asked Marian.  She knew he was
divorced, and had no children.  She knew there were no other women in his
life.  If there were, they had been seriously neglected recently and
weren't happy at all.  What else could there be?

   "Well," he said uncomfortably.  "You remember I said my Great Great
whatever Grandfather fought in the war?"

   "The Yankee?" she asked.

   "Yes."

   "What about him?  That was ages ago.  I know there are still strong
feelings about that, but not with me.  That's ancient history." Marian was
still puzzled.

   "Well, he was a member of the 54th Regiment of Massachusetts Volunteers.
He was an officer, and he was killed in the battle of Fort Wagner, in South
Carolina, in 1863."

   "All right," she said patiently.  "If he had to be a Yankee, at least he
was an officer.  I can forgive that."

   "He was also ...  um ...  a Negro."

   Marian blinked.  Her assumptions about his heritage made her speak
before she could actually process the information he had just given her. 
"I thought you were Greek or Spanish!"

   "No," he said uncomfortably.  "Things got kind of mixed up way back
when. He was the only colored member of our family.  I've always passed for
white since I left Massachusetts, because all I got from him, apparently,
was a little darkness to my skin."

   "And the eyes," thought Marian to herself.  "His beautiful, dark eyes."

   Then it hit her.  This man ...  this man with whom she was lying ... 
who had made love to her a dozen times ...  who she was falling in love
with ...  who was everything that Harvey had not been ...  had colored
blood running through his veins.  She had made love with a colored man ...
a mulatto, just like her grandbabies.

   It was the overwhelming irony of the situation that saved her, because
her proper Southern mind had not, despite the strides she had made, emptied
itself of bigotry.  She had made exceptions in her mind for Flossie, Curtis
Lee, and Moses, and even Jesse.  They had to be ...  different somehow ...
which made it all right.  But her mind rebelled at the thought that,
regardless of how diluted his blood was, Bob was black.  Her eyes, and the
irony of it all, told that part of her mind to shut up ...  that it was too
late anyway ...  that this didn't matter either, except that it was a good
thing Harvey was dead and buried.  The thought of Harvey, spinning in his
grave was what brought out the first unstoppable giggle.

   Then the thought that she had been thinking up reason after reason NOT
to introduce her family to this man made it even worse, and she started
laughing.  Her laughter was so hard that she rolled, trying to sit up, and
just kept rolling when she couldn't.  She landed hard on her hip when she
hit the floor and kept trying to get to her hands and knees, while belly
laughs robbed her body of the ability to function.  She saw Bob's dusky
face peering down at her from the bed, alarm in those beautiful dark eyes,
and it made her laugh even harder, until she couldn't breathe and thought
she would pass out.  When she was able to get to her knees, finally, her
hands on the bed by Bob, her stomach hurt from laughing.  Gasping for air,
she looked down to see that the muscles of her abdomen, while tensing over
and over, had forced a thick stream of semen out of her pussy.  It was
running down her inner thigh.  She almost started laughing again.  It was
so white ...  so pure looking.  Shouldn't it be brown, like him?

   He let her catch her breath.  She kept staring down, and he looked,
seeing what she was staring at.

   "I'm sorry," he said softly.  "I should have told you sooner.  I should
have told you that first night.  I guess I thought you'd never find out,
because you'd get bored with me eventually."

   She looked up then, a silly grin on her face.

   "How would you like to go to a party?" He looked confused, and she stood
up.  "Get dressed," she said firmly.  "It's time for you to meet my
children."

   ========================

   Chapter 44

   She didn't call ahead.  She knew they'd all be there, Johnnie Sue, Moses
and Luthor included.  That wouldn't add much shock to what she was going to
expose him to and she also wanted to make sure there were no surprises down
the line that might throw a wrench in the works.

   She also didn't tell him what was about to happen.  That he was curious
about this sudden impulse of hers to take him to her home, was obvious. 
But patience with this woman had yielded almost unimaginable happiness, so
he bit his tongue and just rode.  This time they were in her dusty old
station wagon.

   For those reasons, the populace of Whitworth Farm were as unprepared for
him as he was for them.  When Marian walked him between the houses, and
into the courtyard, there was already the smell of cooking meat on the
outdoor grill.  Nathan, Luthor and Curtis Lee were tossing a football back
and forth.  Jesse sat with Luthor's baby on his lap, rocking him on his
knees, while Johnnie Sue nursed Jesse's baby.  The bassinets had been lined
up outside in the shade, and Flossie, Bernadette and Hilda Mae were setting
a table.  It already had a big covered bowl of potato salad on it, and a
pot full of corn-on-the-cob, the lid on, keeping it warm.

   Flossie looked up in surprise that a man was with Marian.

   "There you are!" she said.  "We were beginning to think you'd be late."

   Marian smiled.  "I've brought someone for you to meet."

   It took a few minutes to get them all in one general place, during which
Bob looked around curiously.  Nathan, and his brothers in law enforcement,
displayed an almost disturbing reaction.  They looked Bob over like he was
going to get a pass or fail grade, and that was before they even knew who
he was.

   "Everyone ...  this is Bob." said Marian simply.

   "You're joking!" Flossie's breath exploded with the two words.

   Marian arched an eyebrow.  "And why would I be joking?" she asked.

   "Because he's color..." Flossie stopped.  She looked at Bob, then at
Marian, then at Curtis Lee, who was peering at Bob closely.  "He's so
different than you described him," Flossie amended her comment.

   Bob had a goofy look on his face, like he was very confused, and Marian
just let him have it.

   "Bob, this is Flossie, my daughter-in-law.  She's married to Nathan
there, and their children are Nathan Junior, here, and that's Abraham over
there." She didn't give him a chance to comment.  "And then we have
Bernadette and Hilda Mae, my daughters, who are married to Curtis Lee, over
there, and Moses, respectively.  Bernadette's daughters are over there
together, Juliet and Elizabeth.  Hilda Mae and Moses only have one child,
so far, Elijah, who is right next to Elizabeth."

   She turned to Johnnie Sue, who was still holding Jeremiah, who was still
suckling.

   "That's Johnnie Sue.  She's sort of an adopted daughter, close friends
with my children.  She's holding Jeremiah, who is Jesse's baby.  He's
standing next to her, but he's holding Thomas, the baby she had with
Luthor, who is standing over there by Nathan.  Their relationship is
complicated.  We can talk about that later if you like."

   Bob's mouth opened and closed several times.

   "It will take you a little time to remember all the names," said Marian,
waving a hand negligently.  "But maybe you can get started on that during
lunch."

   Bob turned to her, his eyes still wide.  "You're a very interesting
woman, Marian."

   "I hoped you'd think so," she said.  "But I swear to you I didn't know
what you told me this morning.  Not until you told me."

   ========================

   Nathan took Bob's elbow, and he and Curtis Lee showed him around the
place.  Flossie dragged Marian into a corner.

   "You know he's colored, don't you?" she whispered.

   "Not until he told me this morning.  How did YOU know?"

   "It's obvious!" said Flossie.  "I knew, the minute I saw him that he was
one of ...  us."

   "Well I didn't.  When I told him I was falling in love with him, he
confessed.  I thought he was going to cry.  I think he expected me to curse
at him and throw things.  I just brought him here instead."

   "What are the chances this could happen?" asked Flossie, amazed.

   "I can't do that kind of math," said Marian.  "You're the teacher.  You
tell me."

   ========================

   It was a good party.  Once everyone got used to Bob, and he to them,
they welcomed him with open arms.  On the way to take him back home he was
quiet at first.

   "You remember the question you asked me before you brought me over
here?" he asked.

   "Yes," she said simply.

   "Well, I can say honestly, now, that my answer is that it doesn't bother
me at all."

   ========================

   Marian told him the story of how things had happened, over the next
week, as she saw him, both at his house and in her newly-finished bungalow.
He thought it would make a great book.  He said that knowing she could use
new eyes to look at things, helped him feel like she might be able to use
those same new eyes when he did something stupid.

   "I have an announcement," he said, when he arrived to pick her up to
take her out for dinner one night.  "I need to make it before I get you
where I want you later."

   "Oh?" she asked.

   "I'm falling in love with you too," he said.  "Or I fell in love with
you.  I mean I love you." He looked confused.  "I had to tell you that
before I was making love to you.  It's a rule, you know."

   He was joking, but she didn't smile.

   "I have an announcement too," she said softly.  "I missed a period four
days ago."

   She said it clearly, and he heard her clearly as well.

   His face went through a rapid transformation, that started with raised
eyebrows, and then flickered, almost like suspended animation.  At one
point teeth showed, and at another there was a frown.  There were also
tightly closed eyes, and wide open ones.  His mouth was open and then
closed.  He didn't stand still while his face morphed from one look to
another.  His feet moved, and he did almost an Indian dance as he turned in
a circle and ended up with his arms in the air, his hands reaching toward
the sky.  Then he brought his elbows back to his sides with a snap, both
hands in a fist.

   "I'm going to be a Daddy?" he gasped.

   "If you want to," she said carefully.

   "What do you mean if I want to?" he asked, his voice cracking.  "I've
wanted to be a Daddy for twenty YEARS!" He blinked.  "You HAVE to marry
me!"

   "I most certainly do NOT have to marry you!" she said sharply.

   "What?" He stopped and looked troubled.

   "I'm a forty year old woman," she said.  "I don't HAVE to do anything."

   "But Marian ..." his eyes took on panic.  "It's MY baby ...  isn't it?"

   "It's OUR baby, Bob," she said.

   "OK, OK, but you know what I mean, right?  You can't keep me away from
him.  Please?  I have to be part of his life.  I couldn't stand it if I
knew I had a son and I didn't get to see him and help raise him.  Please,
I'm begging you.  I love you, and didn't you say you were falling in love
with me?  Why wouldn't you marry me?"

   "You haven't asked me to marry you," said Marian.

   "Huh?  Of course I did!" he yelped.

   "No, you said I HAD to marry you.  You didn't ask me ...  you TOLD me."

   He looked exasperated.  "But ...  you're pregnant."

   Marian took his hands.  "I was told to marry Harvey.  I did, and I was a
faithful wife, but I wasn't happy.  I didn't know it then, but I do now.  I
don't want to start another marriage like that."

   "Do you WANT to marry me?" he asked.

   "You have to ask me to marry you to find out," she said.

   "Now you're telling me what I have to do," he said, smiling.  He got a
crafty look on his face.  "If I asked you to marry me, what would you say?"

   "I'd give you the answer that is in my heart," she said, not to be
outdone.

   He liked to play the games they played, but this was too important to
leave to ...  play.  He dropped to one knee, feeling slightly foolish.

   "Marian Wilson, I love you.  You're going to have my baby ...  our baby
...  and I want to be in your life and in his life.  I want to grow old
with you.  Will you please marry me?"

   "It might be a girl," said Marian, trying not to smile.

   "You didn't answer my question," he said.  "Please, tell me what's in
your heart."

   "Yes," was all she said.

   He smiled with obvious relief.  "Of course, you understand that I can
only marry a good girl.  That means you have to be in bed by ten." He
looked at his watch.

   "Haven't you already done enough damage?" she whined theatrically.

   "I have my standards," he said, folding his arms.

   "Well, then," she said calmly.  "I'd better find a bed right now, then.
I've always tried to be a good girl.  We can eat later."

   They were standing in the door of her bungalow, so finding a bed wasn't
all that difficult.

   ========================

   Since Marian had missed the weddings of her daughters, which had not
included vows of any kind, she invited them to get re-married with her.

   The wedding was held in the orchard, under a tent, because they couldn't
find a church that would go along with one mixed marriage, let alone three.
The minister of the Ebenezer Baptist Church, oddly enough, was sympathetic
to their cause, and performed the triple wedding, even though it couldn't
be done in his church.  He mentioned that, if he had done this back home,
he probably would have been lynched, and that he felt extremely privileged
to be able to help these three couples.

   Seven months later, Marian, attended by her two daughters, went through
labor, and smiled as they lay a little brown boy, with kinky black hair, on
her bosom.  The unusualness of that was offset, oddly, by the very normal
inspection Marian made of her new son.  She counted his fingers and toes,
and settled him to her breast, smiling tiredly.

   ========================

   Flossie hummed, baking a cake to welcome home the new arrival.  She
reflected on the strange way things had played out in her life.  She'd just
tried to live life the best she could.  She hadn't set out to ruin
everything that Harvey Wilson stood for and believed.  His hate, had things
gone as he intended, would have been passed on to his offspring, and he
would have dominated his wife to her dying day.

   Sometimes, though, fate or some other power strokes the fabric of our
lives with fingers that change everything.

   Because of that, the revenge Flossie had never set out to accomplish,
was now complete.
   THE END 
