The Brass Statuettes

© Copyright 2007, 2009

Autumn Writer

Chapter 17  The Price of Our Vanities

Jim Sweeney was the last of the group to take his seat.  There were seven of them gathered around the table in Alvin’s office.  Sweeney was the Chairman; he called the meeting to order.

“I want it on the record that I don’t like calling this meeting behind Frank’s back,” he declared after completing the preliminaries.

“Alright, you are on ze record,” Herr Mueller snapped back.  “Unt now vee get on vit it, ja?”

“Get on with what?” Alvin asked.  “This was just to be a discussion session.”

“I dit not fly across ze ocean for dees-cussion,” Mueller retorted.  “I haf call for action.”

“What action is that, Detlef?” Lambert asked.

“Feerst, I vant it unterstood zat if ze Wertheim merger vas not lost, zis vood haf not bin necessary.”

“So, this is sour grapes over Wertheim?” Sweeney said with an exasperated sigh.  “It wasn’t the right time.  There’ll be other opportunities.  We have to be patient.”

“Patient?  I vas patient.  Ze deal vas set—un-teel Frank Bennett broke it apart.”

“You were patient to a fault, Detlef,” Lambert agreed.

“Now, just a minute,” Sweeney insisted.  He turned to Alvin.  “You approved the shelving of the registration.  It was for good reasons.” 

“Well, I did,” Alvin confirmed, “on Frank’s say-so.  It seemed like the logical thing to do at the time.  Hindsight is always twenty-twenty.”

“Look where we are now,” Lambert pointed out.  “I’m not saying that Frank was all wrong, but no one can say that we’re not at a standstill.  We can’t go on like this much longer.  We’ve got to think of the shareholders.”

“The major players are holding firm,” Sweeney said.  “I’ve spoken with Frank about this several times.  He has a plan; he’s putting it in place; he’ll have us back on track very soon once Al, here, gets the SEC off our back.”

“Plan!  Acch!” Mueller scoffed, waving his hand at Sweeney in disgust.

“We were supposed to have a hearing on Wednesday.  The judge postponed until Monday,” Al Crossman told them.  “The SEC lawyers couldn’t make it down until then.”

“That seems like a big favor to them from the judge,” Alvin said.

“Never mind zat!” Mueller thundered over them.  “I haf deef-rent plan.”

“Different plan?”  Alvin asked.  “What kind of plan?”

“I haf —how do you say?—consortium,” Mueller told them.  “My bank vill provide finance.  Vee haf four persons to buy surplus shares of Vestern in ze market.  Zee de-mand vill increase ze share price, ja.  Zen SEC can go to hell.”

“Just who are these four persons?” Sweeney demanded.

“We have to check the regulations on that,” Crossman warned.  “You can’t take control of a company without registering with the SEC.  It could be considered market manipulation.”

“Zeese peoples vill be known only to me—until ze proper moment,” Mueller replied.  “Let me assure all zat no one person vill own more zen five percent.  Vee haf checked dis.”

“It might be deemed a conspiracy,” Crossman insisted.  “The government could treat all four as a single person.

“Perhaps in America, but vee are in Germany.  Undt, as I said, ze problems of ze stock price vill be solved.”

Crossman looked at the others and shrugged.

“This is nothing but strong-arm through the back door,” Sweeney protested.  “I think we should adjourn this meeting right now.”  He crossed his arms and shot a glance Alvin’s way in search of support.

“I think we should, at least hear him out,” one of the directors said.  It was one of those who had been silent.  He was A. Bartlett Dodge, head of a large private foundation.  “We have to think of the shareholders and this would prop up the price and solve a lot of problems.”

“That could only be a temporary…” Sweeney began to say.

“Wait a minute,” Alvin interrupted.  “Where would we enter in the course of this scheme, Detlef?”

“A good question,” another Finance Committee Director added.  It was Randall Trainor, a retired insurance company chairman.  “I think we haven’t heard everything, yet.”

“So right, Herr Trainor,” Mueller confessed.  “Z’ere is no deal unless vee replace Frank Bennett.”

“This is blackmail!” Sweeney shouted.

“I repeat; Bennett is out,” Mueller said, ignoring Sweeney.  He sat back, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“But why?” Alvin asked. 

“It was Frank’s fault that we lost the stock issue,” Lambert reminded them.

“He was always against the Wertheim deal,” Dodge added.

“He was doing his job,” Sweeney retorted, “and doing it well, too.”

“Bennett is out,” Mueller confirmed, “undt zen vee move into ze EU.”

“We need a better presence in the EU,” Lambert argued.  “It was our strategy all along.”

The meeting began breaking down.  Several private conversations erupted. 

“Let’s have order,” Sweeney yelled out.  The room went silent.  “First of all, Al’s got something to say.”

Crossman cleared his throat.  “I have doubts about the legality of this whole thing. I have to advise everyone here to keep silent on this until the proper legal research can be done.  Any action taken now would be extremely risky.”

“We’d have to bring it to the whole Board,” Alvin cautioned.  “It would have to be explained to them.”

Legal research performed by your firm, no doubt,” Dodge said.

Crossman raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything. 

Sweeney seized the opportunity.  “Well then, we’ll adjourn; and let the record show that there was discussion only with no agreement, and no action was taken, on advice of counsel.”

“Let me state vone zing,” Mueller declared.  “Z’ere is little time.  Bennett must go, and zen we move into Urope!”

“Well, if you want Bennett gone, I suppose you want me out, too?” Sweeney said.

“Ja, ja”

“Come on, come on,” Alvin soothed.  “Let’s go have a few drinks and some lunch.  We’ll all feel better.”

“Nein,” answered Mueller.  “I have a flight.”

*************** 

After the meeting adjourned only Jim Sweeney, Al Crossman and Alvin remained seated at the conference table.  They decided to order lunch into the office instead of going up to the Executive Dining Room with Lambert, Trainor and Dodge.

“I don’t like this, not one bit,” Sweeney said.  “I don’t like going behind a man’s back and not give him a chance to defend himself.”

“I don’t like it either,” Alvin said, “but you have to admit that this SEC thing has this company tied in knots and this could be an easy way out.”

“I wouldn’t underestimate Mueller,” Crossman cautioned.  “There’s no doubt that it’s skirting the edges of legality., Herr Mueller’s smart enough to know that he’s got to keep his legal bases covered.  He’s probably hired a sharp law firm to help him.  He’s got the attention of Lambert and Dodge, and I think Trainor is on the fence.”

“Why are we pussy-footing around with him?” Sweeney asked.  “Why don’t we just cut it off now?”

“I just thought I’d advise you to keep options open,” Crossman said.  “Let’s see how far these guys are willing to go.  They seem very eager to put their money in—and that would be a big help to us right now.”

“It could develop a momentum all its own,” Alvin mused.  “If they think the door is still slightly open, they could get impatient and dump their money in without the Board’s backing.  What is there to stop them?”

“You might have to let Frank go, anyway,” Crossman reasoned.  “It would be crazy to turn this deal down and then dump him.  Let’s get some mileage out of it, if it comes to that.”

“I’m behind Frank on this,” Sweeney declared.

“Everyone is expendable,” Alvin grumbled. 

“Just think on this,” Sweeney countered. “If Mueller gets his way it won’t be long before you’re out and this company’s headquarters is in Frankfurt.”

“Not until they pay off big, so I don’t give a damn,” Alvin said.  “And that goes for all the shareholders, too.  That’s what we’re supposed to do, protect the interests of the shareholders.”

“Well, I still don’t like it,” Sweeney said.

“We should bring the key officers in on this.  That’d be Tyler Smith and Blake Hart,” Alvin said.  “The last thing we’d want is for rumors to start flying and have them jump to conclusions.  We’ll need them on our side—especially if Frank’s head goes on the chopping block.”

“Okay; just don’t let on about the Frank thing,” Crossman said.  “They don’t need to worry about something that doesn’t officially exist—at least not yet.”

************* 

Frank arrived at the office early the following day, determined to confront Alvin about the secret meeting.  He expected to see Floyd waiting for him at the entrance to the Executive Suite, but found a substitute in his place.  The morning had started out bad already and he didn’t expect it to get any better.

There was a note from Aaron on his desk saying he was ready to review the first draft of the forecast.   Frank nodded.  “That guy’s right on the bal, at leastl.”  He thought about going down to the employee cafeteria and getting a coffee to go.  Instead, he dialed Aaron’s number.

“Hey, Aaron; why don’t you come up to my office now and go over those numbers?  Stop and get us a couple of coffees on your way up.  Floyd isn’t in and Jeannette won’t be here for another hour.  I don’t think I can hold out that long.”

While he waited for Aaron he wrote a note to Jeannette and left it on her desk:  “Jeannette—please get me on Alvin’s calendar ASAP.”

He’d been pondering the reason for the secret meeting ever since Jeannette’s call the day before.  Someone wanted him excluded from whatever was going on, and that meant excluded from his job, too.  It would have had to have been someone at the highest level.  He ruled Jim Sweeney out.  He would have ruled Alvin out until recently.  Frank thought Alvin looked old and tired.  He could imagine Alvin going along with it in a weak moment, but just couldn’t bring himself to believe that it would be him who would get it started.  That left Detlef Mueller, and that made a lot of sense.

Aaron appeared in the doorway.  He was carrying two styrofoam coffee cups from the cafeteria fastened with plastic lids and several folders wedged under his arm.  “I’m ready when you are,” he said as he walked into the office.  He marched in and set the coffee and the folders on Frank’s conference table. 

“Ahh! Accountant’s blood transfusion,” Frank said as he opened the lid on a cup and then took a sip.  “What do I owe you?”

“On me today,” Aaron replied.

Frank took another sip from his steaming cup.  “What vitamins are in coffee, anyway?  When I was your age, I could live on it for days.”

“I don’t know,” Aaron said.  “I don’t think there are many, especially if you drink it black.  Maybe…”

“Never mind, Aaron.  It’s just one of my old jokes.”  Aaron failed to crack a smile.  “It looks like it’s older than I thought.”

Aaron opened one of the folders and handed Frank a draft of about ten pages stapled together. 

“Tell me the good news first,” Frank said.

“It’s like you said, the Euro-Pac divisions are coming in stronger after converting to US dollars.  It’s offsetting the bad news.”

“Which is…”

“The US units are going to be in for it, especially Adhesives and Sealants.  Consumer Products is flat.  The Industrial Polymers Division is holding up, but it isn’t big enough to offset the others.”

“No big mystery there.  What does Blake want to do?”

“He has a plan to shut down Texas City for maintenance and modernization and shift all production to Bayonne while the work is in process.”

“What if the downturn lasts longer than that?” Frank asked.

“He wants to do the same thing in reverse.”

The trouble is, we can’t be sure when the home-building industry might rebound.  It’s so open ended; and that maintenance program is going to cost a lot of money.  He’ll have to move some equipment up to Bayonne to pull it off.  And, when he’s done he’ll have to move it back again.”

“Unit costs go way down with the Bayonne Plant up to full capacity.  Margins go up and help offset the overall volume loss.”

“Pricing?” Frank asked.

“No pricing action assumed in the model,” Aaron said.  “Since the Bayonne plant is expected to run full out, there didn’t seem to be any sense in pricing cuts.”

“Good—good,” Frank said, “the sales force won’t like it, but it makes perfect sense.”

“Mr. Hart wants to know if he should build a contingency plan in case the downturn extends past the maintenance cycle,” Aaron reported.

“Definitely yes,” Frank said.  “It’ll have to be Bayonne.  We promised to maintain a certain number of jobs in Texas City according to our tax abatement deal with the State.  Any major layoffs there and we’ll lose more tax benefits than we’ll save costs.”

“The Texas City plant is more efficient than Bayonne, anyway,” Aaron added.

“Good thinking on that,” Frank commented.  “Get the details on the shutdown spending and make sure we know how much can be capitalized and what we’ll have to take as a current expense.  One last thing, be sure to get the tax provision right.  It gets tricky with changing exchange rates.  Get Charley White in the Tax Department to take a long look at it.  We could be dead nuts above the line and lose it all below.  It won’t matter to Wall Street.  To them, it’s just EPS.”

Jeannette knocked at the door.  “Two coffees?” she asked.

“I’m just leaving,” Aaron said.  “Thanks, just the same.”  He gathered up his papers into the folder. 

“Leave me with this,” Frank said, holding up his copy of the Draft Forecast.  “I’ll probably have more comments later.  I’ll call you.”  Aaron nodded and left the office.

“Mr. Warner isn’t in the office today, Frank,” Jeannette said.  “He’s in Austin at his lecture series at the University.”

“Lecture series?” Frank asked.

“It’s the ‘Distinguished Lecturer Series’,” Jeannette explained.  “UT invited him to give a series of lectures at the Business and Engineering Colleges.  They invite a half-dozen executives each year.”

“Great!” Frank exclaimed.  “I wanted to speak with him about the secret meeting yesterday.  He’s over there playing professor.”

“If it’s any help, Mr. Sweeney called and asked if you could clear some time for him.  He was calling from his car.  He should be here any minute.”

“That helps a lot,” Frank said.  “Hold all my calls when he gets here.” 

********** 

Jeannette brought the coffee into the office and set it on the table.  Jim Sweeney followed her in and sat in one of the stuffed chairs.  “Do you need anything else, Mr. Bennett?” she asked. 

Frank looked at Jim, who shook his head.  “No thanks, Jeannette.”  She left the office. 

Frank turned to Sweeney who was staring out the window.  “Jim, this must be serious.  It’s the first time you’ve been here that you didn’t have your eyes glued to my secretary’s backside.”

“That’s what happens when you get old, Frank.  You forget to enjoy things like that when you have your mind on something else.”

“You must be here about the secret meeting in Alvin’s office yesterday,” Frank said.

“Exactly!” Sweeney replied, stabbing the air with his finger in Frank’s direction.  “So you found out about it?”

“Sure, Jeannette called me while it was going on.”

“She’s one hell of a secretary, Frank.”

“So, you do have Jeannette on your mind, after all,” Frank laughed.

“Well, guilty, I suppose,” Sweeney confessed.  “Even more important, we have to talk about what went on in that meeting yesterday.”

“I wanted to speak to Alvin about it,” Frank said.  “He’s off on a trip to Austin.”

“I know,” Jim replied.  “I don’t think Alvin intended it that way, but it kind of shows you where you stand.  One of the Directors is on a mission to kick you out and Alvin is sitting on the fence with Crossman whispering in his ear.  He figures to offer you up as a sacrificial lamb at the right time.  I wouldn’t feel very good right now, if I were you.”

“It all adds up,” Frank said.  “I knew that Mueller was burned up about the Wertheim deal going south.  I’m disappointed by Alvin.  I thought he would support me.  At least, I think it was right for me to expect that.”

“So, you figured out it was Mueller.  He says he has four investors lined up to acquire Western stock to support the price.  His bank is going to do the financing.”

“Sure,” Frank said, “and take control of the company in the process.”

“He says it’s no-go unless you’re out,” Jim told him.

“We’ll have to see about that.  There’s something about Mueller’s deal that doesn’t make sense.  If they’re serious, why did Mueller come to the Finance Committee to ask permission?  They could merely buy up the stock, take control and then fire me?  Why impose the pre-condition?”

“Good point!” Jim said.  “Could be, it’s a bluff.” 

“We’ll have to call that bluff when it comes time,” Frank said.  “I know I’m repeating myself; what really disappoints me is Alvin.”

 Jim said.  “Don’t be too angry at Alvin.  He’s just looking for an easy way out of the mess we’re in.  In fact, if push comes to shove, he could line up on either side.”

“I understand,” Frank said.  “What’s wrong is that Alvin is supposed to be stronger than that.  He’s letting Al Crossman do his thinking for him.  If Mueller thought Alvin was in charge, he wouldn’t even try this.”

Sweeney shrugged.  “So, are you gonna stay and fight it out?  I wouldn’t blame you if you up and quit.”

“No quitting!” Frank declared.  “I can’t guarantee that I won’t get burned to a crisp.  They’ll have to beat me.  I won’t let them scare me out.”

“That’s what I was hoping you would say,” Sweeney said, slapping his knee in delight.  “How d’ya figure on handling it.”

Frank leaned back in his chair.  “I’ll need you behind me, Jim.”  Sweeney gave a swift nod of assent.  Frank paused again, turning options over in his mind.  “Someone has to go,” Frank said.  “It will be either Mueller or me.  And we can’t let any players sit on the fence.  Sooner or later, Alvin will have to support me or fire me.”

“Keep your eye on Crossman,” Sweeney advised.  “If he lets up, Alvin will jump on your bandwagon.  Don’t worry about the other directors.  Leave them to me.”

“A visit to some of the big shareholders seems like a good idea,” Frank said.  “Murray Shoreham owes me a lunch.”

“We’ll beat this thing,” Sweeney proclaimed.  “If we can keep the share price up as much as possible it will make it harder for Mueller’s people to acquire shares.  They’re gonna have to do it a little bit at a time if they want to accumulate the numbers that they need without drawing attention.  Doing it from Europe won’t make it any easier.”

“If there is such a thing as a ‘Mueller consortium’,” Frank reminded him.  “Let’s see what the market is doing now.”  Frank went to his desk and turned on the computer monitor.  He maneuvered the mouse for a few seconds.  “Very interesting, he mumbled.

“What gives?” Sweeney asked.

“Western stock is up a point and a half.  A big block traded a half hour ago.”

“Goddam!  Mueller’s started already,” Sweeney cursed.

“Maybe not, Jim,” Frank answered.  “I think something else is going on.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“I think someone is buying shares to cover their short-selling.  Remember—that’s what got this whole mess started.  Take a look.”

Sweeney jumped out of his chair and joined Frank at the monitor.  “You could be right,” he gasped.  “If you are, you know what that means.  Whoever…”

“That’s right,” Frank finished the thought.  “Whoever just bought that block of shares was in that meeting yesterday.  They’re covering their shorts now before Mueller’s people drive the price up.  Find the buyer and you’ll find the inside trader.”

“We’re gonna win, Frank,” Sweeney proclaimed.  “A final battle for an old warrior.  I’m grateful.”

****************** 

Brenda had on her exercise leotard and was sitting at Gloria’s kitchen table eating a half-grapefruit.  Juana served them coffee and Brenda sensed unease in the maid’s manner.  Gloria was dressed in her leotard, too.  After pouring the coffee, Juana left the room.

“Thanks for coming today, Bren,” Gloria said.  “I promised Raul.  It’s a sales lead for him.  He’ll want to sign you up.  It’s a consolation prize for not taking the Deluxe Workout in so long.  I hate to lose him.”

“Exercise boys are a dime-a-dozen, Gloria,” Brenda said.  “If he doesn’t like it the way things are you can find someone else.”

“No one’s like Raul,” Gloria countered.

“Do you mean with the Deluxe Workout or Regular?”    

“Either way; he seems to have a knack with me.”

“I thought you had something going on with Alvin.  Keeping Raul around can only put that in danger.”

“I knew you might say that,” Gloria snapped in anger.  “I hoped you wouldn’t.  I thought you knew the way things are; I thought you knew better.”

Gloria’s rebuke stung Brenda like a slap on her face.  Brenda regretted the comment.  It served to remind her that kindness was a cheap commodity, capable of gaining only the easy-to-come-by things.  “I was only telling you that as a friend, Gloria.  I’m sorry if I angered you.”

It occurred to Brenda that her apology was cheap, as well—just like kindness.  They were only good for soothing feelings, and experience taught that they were the commonest of easy-to-come-by things.  What irritated Brenda most was that she had forgotten the lesson.  “She can have it her way, if that’s what she wants,” she told herself in silence.”

“Oh Brenda, I’ve hurt your feelings again,” Gloria whined.  “I really don’t understand myself sometimes.  You’re the only true friend I’ve got and I always seem to ruffle your feathers more than anyone else’s.”

“It’s okay, Gloria.  I only thought…”

“Sure, it’s dangerous having Raul here.  I think that’s why I like it.  It feels like any moment I might lose control of myself and give into him; and then something exciting would happen to me—something that I can’t predict or control.  I could be swept away at any moment and not be able to stop.  I think that I like being on the narrow edge.”

“Perhaps you just want to make sure you have a backup in case Alvin disappoints you,” Brenda suggested.

“Well, Alvin’s been very preoccupied by work lately.”

“If I were you, I’d tell Alvin to retire and ride off into the sunset with him.  Forget all this; leave it behind—before Raul destroys it for you.”

“That means that I would have to retire, too,” Gloria shot back.  “I’m not ready for that big ride into the sunset—not yet, anyway.  Besides, I’ve had Raul around here for three years and Alvin’s still here, too.”

“So, you’re not afraid to play with fire.  Are you afraid to be lonely?” 

“I don’t know; I don’t know,” Gloria replied.  “Let’s not talk about it.  C’mon, we’ll go out and start stretching in the mini-gym.”

“And I don’t know, either, why I keep telling myself not to give a damn, but never listen,” Brenda thought as she walked with Gloria across the veranda to the gym.

Gloria and Brenda were loosening up when they heard a knock on the door.

“Señora Warner, it is Raul.”

He opened the door and stepped into the gym.  “Raul, I have a guest today—like I promised last time,” Gloria said as she opened the door to him.

“Si, Señora’ I remember.”

“This is my friend, Señora Hart.”

“Ees a pleasure, Señora Hart.  Raul plucked Brenda’s hand lightly in his fingers and kissed it as though he was a Spanish don.  He took a second longer than necessary before releasing it.  Out of the corner of her eye Brenda saw Gloria watching them and she could tell she wasn’t pleased.

“Close the door, Raul,” Gloria scolded.  “Let’s get started.”

“Si, Señora,” Raul said, “but I have a surprise, too.”  He stepped halfway out the door and whispered something.  He stepped back inside, followed by a youth who looked frightened.

“Ees my—how do you say—primo,” Raul told them.  “Ahh—Cousin!” he exclaimed, snapping his fingers.  “Ees my cousin, Miguel.”  He paused to give Brenda and Gloria a chance to look him over.

It was hard to tell how old the man-boy actually was.  He was taller than Raul, but less filled out.  He wore white trousers and a polo shirt, just as Raul, that were too short and too baggy.  His straight, black hair made his tan skin appear even darker than it was.  He kept looking down at the floor, stealing glances at the women and at Raul.

“Raul, why is he dressed that way?” Gloria asked.  “Did you loan him your clothes?”

“Si, Señora Warner.  Miguel ees een dees country only two days.  He ees from Chiapas; from a tiny village d’ere.  Hees madre say when he turns eighteen he can come to Estados Unidos.  So, ‘ere ‘e ees now.”

Miguel, why are you so shy?” Brenda asked.

“Miguel speak no Inglés,” Raul explained.

 “Well, why is he so shy, Raul?” Gloria asked.

“I teenk ees dee tight clothes of you an’ Señora Hart.  Miguel’s village ees very small.  He does not know woman.  Maybe he has—how you say—man-feelings dat ‘e does not know before now.”

Gloria’s eyes widened. 

“I hope ees okay to bring Miguel today,” Raul pleaded.

Gloria looked at Miguel, starting from the top of his head and ended at his shoes.  Brenda knew that look. 

“You mean to tell me that you brought this young virgin-boy to my gym?” she gasped.

Her eyes fixed on Miguel.  “Is he just for me?  Raul, this is too good to be true!”

Brenda noted the youth’s fearful look and rapid breath as Gloria’s eyes poured over him.  She took a step closer.  Her body touched his and he jumped back a half step.  She changed course and put a sweet smile on her face.  “Tell him not to worry, Raul.  Tell him to sit on the massage table.”

“No se anguste; asientarse aya,” Raul spoke in a stern voice to the youth.  He looked at Raul and hesitated.  Raul nodded when he looked at the massage table with the leather pads and the boy obediently hopped onto it.  Gloria slowly approached him.  She grasped his belt buckle and began to undo it.  He was afraid again; he cast a fearful look in Raul’s direction, but said nothing.

“Don’t worry, my little baby,” Gloria warbled.  “When it’s over, I’ll bring you some milk and cookies.”

“¿Que?” the boy muttered and turned to Raul for help.

“Va darle galletas y leche fria,” Raul told the boy.   

“First, the shirt has to go,” Gloria said as she ignored the Spanish banter.  She grasped the bottom and began to lift it over Miguel’s head.

“¡Raul!” the boy pleaded, barely above a whisper.

“¡Descansar y disfrute!” Raul commanded.  His voice had turned harsh.  He had lost his patience.  “Señora Warner, I can get dee condom for heem.”

“No need,” Gloria answered.  “After all, he’s a virgin.  I don’t need to worry about anything.”  She finished lifting the shirt off him and threw it aside.  “Raul, why don’t you take Brenda over to the sofa and keep her busy while I attend to this little boy?”

Brenda was already standing by the leather couch when she felt Raul behind her.  She didn’t turn around to look at him.  His hands were at the neckline of her leotard.  She could tell they were practiced hands.  The thin fabric was peeling away, down from her shoulders.  She felt coolness on her breasts and she knew that he had stripped her to the waist.

“Shall we sit on the sofa, Señora?” he asked.

“No, I want to watch,” Brenda replied.

She stood still, watching Gloria and the boy called Miguel on the massage table.  Brenda expected to feel Raul’s hands pulling the skin-tight leotard down over her hips and then down her legs.  She didn’t, and for an instant she nearly turned to see what he was doing, but stopped herself.  She didn’t care.  Then, she heard the clink of a belt buckle and realized she would have a few more seconds to watch Gloria work.  While she watched, she peeled the leotard the rest of the way and tossed aside.

Miguel was stripped of all his clothes.  He lay on his back on the massage table.  His erection stood straight up from his body.  Gloria caressed it from the root to the tip with a soft hand.  Miguel gasped. 

“I usually don’t do this—especially on the first date,” Gloria giggled.  She began to climb on the table with him.  “Oops, I mustn’t get anything messy on my leotard.”  She quickly peeled the garment away.  She was nude, just as Miguel, who remained flat on his back on the table, looking at Gloria like a patient watching a surgeon approaching. 

Brenda felt her breasts come to rest in Raul’s palms as he grasped her from behind.  His penis was hard like Miguel’s.  She felt it pressing against her.  Raul was about her height.  Most men were taller and pressed against the small of her back.  Raul pressed against her at a lower place.  It felt good.  She grasped his arms that he had wrapped around her as she watched Gloria, who was on the table, kneeling between Miguel’s spread thighs.

“Like I said,” Gloria sang in a lilting voice, “I don’t usually do this—hell, Raul’s still waiting—but this is special.”  She went to all fours, hovering over him.  Her palms lay flat on the table for support.  She lowered her torso to allow her breasts to play on the erection.  The youth hesitated and then grasped the flesh and sandwiched himself between them.  Gloria pulled away.  She knelt over him, staring down at what she desired.  She bent low again grasped him around the buttocks.  He moaned loudly as she took his whole length into her mouth and then her throat.

Raul released one of Brenda’s breasts and placed the freed hand on her vulva.  A digit began pressing her special spot.  “This guy really knows what he’s doing.”   It felt good—better than good.  Brenda thrust her pelvis into the pressure and she felt even better.  The sweet sensation was taking her over; she decided then that she would allow herself a release.  “You’ll need a condom,” she instructed without turning to speak to him.  She said it just in time, before passing the point of not giving a damn.  She would be there soon.    His hands released her and coolness spread over her back where warm skin had been.  It was just as well.  She wanted to see Gloria make Miguel come.  Then she would be ready.

By the time Raul rejoined her it had happened.  It hadn’t taken Gloria long, bobbing up and down, to bring the boy’s cry of pleasure and surprise.  His release was pouring down Gloria’s throat.  His first semen and his innocence belonged to her forever. 

“I’m ready,” Brenda informed Raul, who was pressing again from behind.  She moved back a step and took her place on the couch.  She figured Raul to be the kind who would last as long as she needed; he had done such a masterful job arousing her.  She knew that Gloria wasn’t done with her initiation, but it would be a while before she had the young novice ready again.  By that time she and Raul would be finished and she could watch Gloria mount him. 

Brenda looked up at Raul, who stood dutifully next to the couch waiting for a signal.  She gave it by spreading her legs and stretching her arms out to accept him.  He settled down on top of her.  She noted that he was lighter than most men, and that would be a welcome change.  Raul tried to kiss her, but she turned her face away.  He buried his face in her breast, instead.

“I wonder if he can tell the difference between Gloria’s and mine,” she asked herself as he suckled them.  To Brenda, it seemed that he liked them and didn’t tire of them, as some men did once she granted them access. 

“Put it in me.  I’m quite ready,” she commanded.

Raul lifted his head up and slid higher on her.  She could feel him probing, latex on skin.  Brenda lifted a leg over the back of the couch.  It helped Raul find his mark.  Just a little part of him went in at first.  He wasted no time.  He pushed forward and he entered her all the way.

Raul eased himself slowly out of her, and then a long journey back inside.  He raised himself up on his elbows, a real gentleman.

“Never mind that,” Brenda whispered in his ear.  She threw her arms around him and crushed him down to her.  “Hump me hard!”

Raul growled and she felt his hips thrust forward and his body advanced through her.  “Ahh, that’s it!” she moaned in exultation.  Her cries urged him on.  He exerted himself even harder.  Brenda tightened herself around him and thrust back.  Repeat!  Repeat!  Repeat!  The engine turned faster.  She felt orgasm speeding on its way, and then it crashed down on her.

She didn’t know how long it took Raul to bring her off.  It couldn’t have been very long—it had been so intense.  When it was done, they lay together panting, each covered in one’s own sheen of sweat.  She felt him oozing out of her.

“Get up,” she ordered, “before that thing comes off and you leak inside me.”  Raul obeyed.

After Raul got off her, Brenda stood just in time to see Gloria hovering over Miguel.  He was aroused again.

“My little baby,” Gloria purred in a sing-song voice.  “Gloria’s going to put you inside her now.”  The man-child was appearing less fearful than he had a short time ago.  He flexed his hips upward.

“No, no” Gloria chirped as if talking to a newborn.  “Let Gloria do it for you.”

She reached down and positioned him at the entrance of her vagina.  “Get ready,” she sang.  She had a sublime look on her face, as if she thought the impending pleasure could carry her soul to a far off place.  All at once she sank down on him, gasping in a portion of air and slowly released it.  She sat straight up, holding her breasts and gasped again as she impaled him even deeper. 

She was staring, but not looking at anything.  She began to move up and down—at a slow pace at first and then faster.  “Oh, my little boy,” she whispered, “put a baby inside Gloria.”  Her breasts bounced, even as she held them.  Miguel began to groan and thrust back at her.  It was apparent that his orgasm was close at hand.

“Yes, yes,” Gloria breathed, scarcely louder than a whisper.  Brenda heard her.  Miguel cried out, and Brenda knew that he was emptying himself inside her.  It was then that Gloria’s face lost all expression.  If her eyes had not been open, Brenda would have thought that she had passed out.  Then, in an instant, she opened her mouth wide, sat rigid and still.  She burst forth a single, loud cry of ecstasy.  Then, she collapsed on the young boy’s chest—breasts and all—panting as she awaited recovery.  In a few minutes, she dismounted and plodded wordlessly to the bathroom.

Brenda had watched it all.  She hadn’t yet bothered to put her leotard back on.  Movement off to the side got her attention and she spied Raul.  He was already dressed, just buckling his belt.  She made no move to cover herself.  However low she might have descended, she was already there.  Modesty offered scant absolution, if that was what she desired.

Gloria emerged from the bathroom.  Her leotard was back on.  “Raul, I think we’ll dispense with the workout today.  I find myself all tired out.”

“Si, Señora Warner.”  Miguel was getting dressed, too.  Soon all were dressed, except Brenda, who remained naked.

“Brenda, please don’t go.  Stay with me a while,” Gloria said as she approached Raul and fumbled in her wallet.  She handed Raul a roll of bills.

The odor of sex was all around.  Brenda remained nude until the two men shut the door behind them.

Raul and Miguel moved quickly through the house and out the front door where Raul’s car waited.  They didn’t see Juana watching them.

“Don’t say nothin’ until we are in dee car,” Raul whispered to his protégé.

As Raul put the car in gear, Miguel counted the bills that Gloria had given them.  “Seis cientos,” Miguel said before Raul had to ask the question.

“Oye!  What you say, niño?  No bad for an hour’s work, eh?”

The young man known as Miguel grinned broadly.  “Ees good, Raul.  D’ere ees only one question.”

Raul shrugged his shoulders.

“Where are dee cookies and milk?”

He handed Raul three of the six bills and the two roared with much laughter—at Miguel’s joke and other things—as they sped down the long driveway.

************** 

Brenda put on a terrycloth robe that Gloria kept in the mini-gym.  She sank into the sofa where she had just had sex with Raul.  She was worn out and had just used muscles that hadn’t had a good stretching in a long time.  She had her eye on Gloria, who was exhibiting signs of a brand new mood.  Her host finally came over and sat next to her.

“Did Raul please you?” Gloria sighed.  “I hope so; it was my treat.”

“He has a great set of hands,” Brenda replied, “and he finishes well, too.  Most of all, he’s good at doing what he ‘s told.” 

“I knew you’d like him,” Gloria said, and patted Brenda on the knee.

“To me, he was someone who was good at doing his job—a hired hand.  There’s nothing more than that—nothing else to like or not.”

Gloria grimaced.  “Yes, Brenda; you’re always the practical one—down to earth.  No matter what the fantasy, you keep us all grounded.  Sometimes I indulge myself and lift off the ground; sometimes I like to fly.”

“I like to think of myself as realistic,” Brenda answered.  “By the way, you don’t really think that young boy impregnated you?”

Gloria laughed.  “Good gracious, no; I’m on the pill.  It was just one of those fantasies I enjoy so much.  It’s fun to pretend.  Then everything is under control—even when it feels like I’m out of control.  And when I’m being bad, I can pretend it’s good, or that it’s not me.  It helps me keep my feelings just the way I want them.”

“But you don’t have to pretend…” Brenda began to say.

“It makes life better,” Gloria insisted.  “I can make it any way I want it to be.”

“I couldn’t do that, Gloria.  I need reality.  I can’t draw that fine line.”

“What line?” Gloria said, looking puzzled.  “It can be all make pretend, or part.  There’s no need for lines.”

Brenda threw her hands up in frustration.  “But you don’t need such things, Gloria.  You have the children at the school; you have Alvin; you have all this.  You don’t need to pretend.”

“But it gives me double the life I have,” Gloria argued.  “And tonight I can go to Alvin if I want to and what happened with that young boy just now won’t matter—because it was my fantasy.  Alvin wasn’t part of it, so it won’t matter.” 

“Gloria every time I think I know you, I find out that I really don’t,” Brenda said.

“Well I know you, Brenda, honey.  You have no fantasy.  There’s no reality for you, either.  All you have is practicality.  No conscience, no lines, no regrets or second thoughts; just what serves you in the moment.”

“Gloria, how would you know?”

“It’s the ultimate fantasy, honey, and you don’t even know it.”

***************** 

TO BE CONTINUED