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Archive name: cuckold.txt (MF, humor)
Authors name: Holly Rennick (jlrennick@yahoo.com)
Story title : Cuckold

--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 2004.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  You may post freely to non-commercial
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites.
Thank you for your consideration.
--------------------------------------------------------

Cuckold (MF, humor)
by Holly Rennick (jlrennick@yahoo.com)

***

A multidisciplinary essay. Hi there, Cindi!

***

CUCKOLD: A CO-AUTHORED ESSAY
by Holly Rennick and Cindi Barton
or CUCKOLD: A LINGUISTIC ASYMMETRY, by Holly Rennick

plus CUCKOLD: IF THE MILKMAN DELIVERS AT 9:30, WHY MAKE 
YOUR BED TWICE? by Cindi Barton

AUTHORS' NOTES

This literary contribution may seem a bit like ping-
pong if our co-authorship is new to you. Actually, this 
is our fourth publication. Visit Holly's ASSTR website 
for "Notebook", "Top Tips" and "Oneida" to get a sense 
of our literary partnership.

We offer our insights not as a final analysis, but 
merely as a point of embarkation for further multi-
disciplinary exploration of cuckoldry.

  [Hey, Cindi Barton, it's I, Holly Rennick here. How 
does it sound so far?]

  [Why are you using my last name, Holly? Like I can't 
see who you are? And why are we talking in brackets?]

  [It's how they know who's talking, Cindi, like sports 
commentators doing pre-game inanities. "Hey, Mike 
Ditka. I'd say that the Cowboy offense is going to have 
to move the ball if Dallas is going to win this 
showdown." "I'd simply add, John Madden, that the 
Bronco's big front line is hoping to stop them!" See 
how they do it? Plus, over-identifying each other helps 
our name recognition.]

  [We're just schoolteachers, Holly Rennick. Start 
typing.]

  [OK. Let's start with the dictionary.]

AN EXCELLENT START

A cuckold (as a noun) is the husband of an unfaithful 
wife. To cuckold (as a transitive verb) is to make a 
cuckold of. (If you're picky: imp. & p. p. "cuckolded"; 
p. pr. & vb. n. "cuckolding", as you would conjugate 
"fold", not "hold".)

  [And now Cindi, we grab their attention with a heavy-
duty quotation. I was just reading Shakespeare's 
Coriolanus after dinner and came upon this. Act IV, 
Scene 5, line 179, if I remember correctly.]

"As war, in some sort, may be said to be a ravisher, so 
it cannot be denied but peace is a great maker of 
cuckolds."

  ["Coriolanus", Holly? Shakespeare wrote some clunkers 
too? Rape the guy's wife in war, but seduce her in 
peacetime? We just deal with the problems of peace, 
then, OK?]

  [That was just to get their attention and use the 
word "cuckold", Cindi. Now we get a little 
schoolmarmish.]

CUCKOLD IN AMERICAN HERITAGE

We thank "American Heritage Dictionary of the English 
Language" for the following etymology,

  [Hey, Holly? Cindi Barton here again. Is this about 
insects?]

  ["E T Y", not "E N T O", Cindi. It means, "Word 
history".]

"The allusion to the cuckoo on which the word cuckold 
is based may not be appreciated by those unfamiliar 
with the nesting habits of certain varieties of this 
bird. The female of some Old World cuckoos lays its 
eggs in the nests of other birds, leaving them to be 
cared for by the resident nesters. This parasitic 
tendency has given the female bird a figurative 
reputation for unfaithfulness as well. Hence in Old 
French we find the word 'cucuault'... used to designate 
a husband whose wife has wandered afield like the 
female cuckoo... Middle English 'cokewold'... is first 
recorded in a work written around 1250."

  [That's really old, when they invented cockholding, 
Holly. So we're writing an essay about it?]

  [There's no "cock" in it, Cindi, and there's no "h". 
I have a degree in Secondary Education/Language Arts, 
you recall.]

  [Oh, I thought its entomology maybe related them 
together. "Cock" and "hold", like a compound word. You 
know, like, "I manhandled him."]

  [Sorry Cindi. The word's from a bird, is all. Just 
let me handle this, OK?]

WORD FORM

Shakespeare utilized the term "cuckold" on 43 
occasions.

As a noun -- "Now sir, who's a cuckold now?"

As an adjective -- "I mean not cuckold-mad; but, sure, 
he is stark mad."

As a transitive verb -- "The conclusion shall be 
crowned with your enjoying her: adieu. You shall have 
her, Master Brook; Master Brook, you shall cuckold 
Ford."

As an expletive -- "Fie, fie, fie! Cuckold, cuckold, 
cuckold!"

  [Hey, Holly? Holly Rennick, I mean. In "Shakespeare 
in Love" they did it under a blanket. Remember?]

  [The old play-within-a-play technique, we call it in 
creative writing, Cindi Barton. Now here's my thesis. 
Just read while I type and don't interrupt.]

ASYMMETRY

We have any number of gender-neutral adjectives for 
perpetuators of infidelity: "adulterous", "cheating", 
"unfaithful" and so on. For the unfortunate spouse we 
have "betrayed", "cheated-upon", again appropriate to 
husband or wife. But, apart from symmetric suffixes, 
e.g. "adulterer" and "adulteress", we have but one 
word, "cuckold" that is gender specific. If you've been 
cuckold, you're a guy and your wife's been in bed with 
somebody else. Shakespeare ordered it correctly in 
Henry the Eighth -- "He or she, cuckold or cuckold-
maker."

The Inuit have a word for every sort of caribou bone. 
We couldn't care less about elk species. But how many 
words do they have related to a computer? Language 
meets needs, that is to say. So why would we have a 
specific term for the fellow whose wife has carnal 
acquaintance with another?

Why, that is say, is the term "cuckold" asymmetric? Why 
doesn't the unfortunate wife of an unfaithful male 
titled in like manner? This is our question.

Because males secretly want it to happen to them? "Oh, 
Hi, Ralph. Glad you could stop by this evening. I've 
got a big job, so I'm going back to the office for a 
few hours. Maybe you and Helen can watch a little TV, 
or something. Hun, you can stay in your nightie. It's 
just Ralph." Statistics say that suspicious husbands 
are justified only half the time. Is there some 
psychological principal about seeing what they want to 
see?

Because women want to classify men according to their 
own independence? Perhaps. Being cuckold speaks of 
having a female spouse who's chosen to venture beyond 
the "and obey" bit. Let's burn them bras, babes!

Because a wife having a secret lover so often works 
out? My best guess. Maybe a social scientist would see 
cuckoldry as structurally stabilizing, that sort of 
gobbledygook. The activity's named it because it works. 
A cuckold spouse can still sell Toyotas, bowl, watch 
the NFL, etc. while his wife enjoys her orgasm. If she 
came when she should have been at the PTA meeting, she 
can still fake one back home.

  [Hey, Holly?]

  [Now what, Cindi?]

  [Is this some big thing to Gloria Steinem or Hillary 
Clinton or somebody? That we don't get a special word 
on our side? "Cuckild", I'm thinking. Monica cuckilded 
Hillary.]

  [It's about power, I think Good Housekeeping said. 
Noam Chomsky says that through linguistics we figure 
complicated stuff out.]

  [Like globalization, or whatever he was lecturing 
about on the college station? Just 'cause he's smart 
doesn't mean he knows everything. I'll bet his real 
name is "Norm", you think?]

  [It's all related, "cuckold" and "globalization" from 
the linguistic paradigm. Hold on, sister, I just have a 
little more to conclude.]

So then, armed with my deconstruction of "cuckold", 
consider these questions.

Guys. Given that, say, one out of five of you are going 
to be cuckolded, wouldn't you rather it be by a guy 
she's not going to move in with? Wouldn't you rather 
she chose a lover who'll treat her well? Well, if you 
want her to get beat up, you deserve to be a cuckold!

Gals. Some of you've done it. Some of you are doing it. 
Some of you will. We're probably talking about pretty 
great sex, right? Wouldn't you rather it be with 
somebody who understands you? Someone who'll always be 
around?

Both of you. If something happens with the birth 
control, you'd want a baby who genetically fits within 
the family.

So there we are. It happens. We've named it. We own it.

  [That's my bit. So what do you think, Cindi? How I 
contextualized it?]

  [I like that bit about genetics, her being with 
somebody she's known a long time. Can I write something 
now, since you promised I could? The readers may need 
some practical tips.]

  [Sure, though it's often counterproductive to reword 
a well-developed thesis. Go ahead.]

A FEW TIPS

So here's an idea for Army wives. Your hubby's off for 
six months searching for weapons of mass destruction. 
He comes home and six months later you have a baby. 
What you say is that the nurse said he's really a big 
strapping kid for being a preemie. Or you can say that 
she said that these ones that are longer term often 
turn out to be good football players. In science, you 
see, I teach that gestation (that's what we call it) is 
not an exact length. It depends.

Or a tip about when you go to the NEA Convention and 
your husband phones you at 2:00 AM and this Assistant 
Principal you met answers the phone. You say loudly, 
"Oh, thank you officer for responding so promptly. I 
thought 911 was how I set my phone to do a wake-up 
call."

Or maybe your spouse finds your pills and he's had the 
big V already. You say they're not what they're 
labeled; that's just to expedite them through customs. 
They're just meth.'

Or maybe your kid looks pretty much like the milkman. 
Your husband maybe wonders. Remind him that the termite 
exterminator guy is the milkman's brother, so he's 
probably wrong. Don't tell hubby about ordering "extra 
fresh cream".

Or husbands. Be suspicious if your wife goes to tennis 
lessons twice a week and always comes back showered and 
invigorated. Be very suspicious if she takes a squash 
racket.

And guys. So your wife Sylvia had this bridge game last 
night with her girlfriends. Today Sally makes a big 
point to you about having chatted with Sylvia. Nancy 
mentions how she and Sylvia had some good hands. Ruth 
remarks about how nice Sylvia looked. Marianne laughs 
about how she and Sylvia messed up a bid.

  [What you think, Holly? I need to tell the husband 
how many players sit at a bridge table?]

  [Probably, Cindi. But we can't just be Agatha 
Christie. So I got some data.]

CUCKOLD BY THE NUMBERS

Two German scientists wanted to know if hair color is 
hereditary determined. In three schools they took some 
blood of 300 children and examined the DNA. They also 
took blood from the children's parents. The outcome of 
the examination shook the scientists. For more than ten 
percent of the children, the nominal father was not the 
biological father.

  [Urban legend, Holly! Like the Germans wonder if hair 
color is hereditary? Let's just say that some dads may 
not have the full history. Go on.]

Reading USA Today, December 21, 1998 for my research, 
24 percent of married men and 14 percent of women have 
been unfaithful, 28 and 17 by another survey, and 60 
and 40 in what looks to be a less-scientific opinion. 
But always are there fewer promiscuous wives than 
promiscuous husbands. There are fewer betrayed men than 
women. So why does this minority get its own adjective?

  [Hey Holly, you never took statistics, right?]

 [Education majors have our special course. We have to 
do grade books and things. Plus, commentators like to 
report statistics. "Never before in 14 consecutive 
plays have the Cowboys run for 33 and passed for 13!" 
So what did you find out?]

GOOGLE

  [In science we call it our literature review. I 
Googled to "cuckold" and got total crap! A forum on 
watching your wife getting impregnated by a Mexican, 
for goodness sakes! It's racist and how'd you know that 
she was actually impregnated? It takes several weeks to 
be sure. Anyway, it's empty fantasy for lonely voyeurs. 
Those pallid writers haven't a clue what it's about.]

  ["Pallid? How'd you know that word?]

  ['Cause science majors still read, Holly. Bet you 
never dissect frogs when you don't have a date.]

  [Ugh! Well, I think maybe Steve, our new Phys Ed guy, 
might ask me out. So there!]

  [You'd like those books about the No 1 Ladies 
Detective Agency. Really good! Steve's a gay as a 
tulip, in case you missed his short beard. Anyway, I 
found some other stuff. Put this in our essay.]

Excerpt from Penthouse, August, 1997: "The most common 
letter we get is from husbands, describing how much 
they love watching their wives have sex with other men. 
We know right away we've received one of these letters 
too, because for all the hot-tub humping, steamy bar 
scenes and backseat blowjobs they involve, they all 
seem to start out with those three little words -- 'My 
beautiful wife'."

  [Reminds me, Cindi, of how all your date reports 
start with, "I really hadn't planned on anything, 
but..." Anyway so what were you discovering about 
"cuckold"?]

  [Nothing, really. Actually, I was thinking about 
writing a little story. Can you do that in an essay?]

  [It's frowned upon in the better journals. You'd just 
ramble and loose the reader, but maybe you could say it 
and I'll write it down. One of my readers said that I'm 
"laconic"]

  [Is that good?]

  [You forgot to add, "Holly Rennick. Is that good, 
Holly Rennick."  Well, he's a very nice fellow, so I'm 
sure he intended it to be. Just scoot over so I can use 
the keyboard, honey. You just dictate and I'll edit 
while I type.]

A CUCKOLD'S TALE

When Gary and Sondra first had sex, long after they'd 
started going out, she'd seemed so innocent. In the 
scope of what most college students did, they were 
squeaky clean until they couldn't wait any longer. 
She'd seemed to know what to do, but then they'd made 
out enough that she'd already made him shoot on her 
skirt, and, best as he could tell, maybe came a little 
when he rubbed her. (She'd not come close, she 
clarified long after; it was damn uncomfortable, him 
rooting around. They'd laughed.). Many girls break 
their hymens riding horses, he'd read. He was going to 
wear a condom, but she said she was already on the pill 
to make her periods lighter. The bloody bed sheet was 
an old wives' tale, he'd figured. In retrospect, he 
could have been more in tune when his betrothed 
suggested a better brand of condoms.

  [So, is this what you said so far, Cindi? Maybe a 
little more cuddly-wuddly to help us identify with the 
characters?]

  [Geesh! What I thought I said was that this guy was 
goo-goo over a broad who fooled him up front. I'll bet 
that most guys who get cuckolded have their eyes 
halfway closed. So let me keep going.]

For all these years they'd made sweet love. "Sweet" was 
the term Gary thought, not perhaps as a female might 
relate the term to something with daisies or childhood 
dolls, but more in a sense of union. Some weeks maybe 
they'd enjoy but a single copulation, but then some 
weekends they'd stay in bed all morning, him mounting 
her as often as she could make him ready. Gary had 
friends that casually talked about "fucking" a wife or 
girlfriend, but he never talked that way.

  [So what do you think, Holly? Her sleeping around's 
got to be secret? If she's doing a guy her husband 
knows about, like her relative where the husband knows 
about a family tradition, the husband isn't really a 
cuckold.]

  [Whatever, Cindi, but this guy's clueless. Let's keep 
going.]

Sondra worked closely with Paul.

  [Hold it, Cindi. You've made with whom too obvious. 
Readers like some tension.]

Sondra worked with Paul, John, George, Mick, Keith, 
Elton and many, many others. She worked very closely 
with Paul.

  [Just go on, Cindi. Maybe I can insert some filler 
later. Shouldn't we drop Elton, though?]

Once Gary had come home early and Paul's car was parked 
down the street. Gary had gone back to the office, 
mentioning nothing to his wife.

  [Hey, Holly, let me stop here a second. There's this 
great one about this guy who drives cement truck and he 
sees this new Corvette parked in his driveway and 
guesses why and...]

  [I got it on the Internet too. It's an urban legend.]

  {Who, us spread an urban legend, Holly? Here's one 
from Holland, but about Italy. How come urban legends 
are always about someplace else?]

A couple from Milan (he 35, she 30) went to a 
gynecologist while on vacation in Toscane, an Italian 
province. The woman had abdominal pains. After a brief 
physical, the doctor told the husband that the problem 
was not serious. "But next time, be careful." The pain 
was caused by a condom left in her vagina. The 
gynecologist removed the condom and the pain 
disappeared immediately. Too bad the husband couldn't 
remember ever having used a condom in his life.

  [Get it? It's about him being cuckolded -- right, 
Holly?]

  [Right. Keep dictating your story, girl.]

Once when Gary returned from working a week in Miami, 
sweet little Diana mentioned Paul coming over to help 
mommy stay warm. Once Diana went in to their room to 
tell mommy goodnight and mommy and Paul were playing 
bouncy-bouncy.

  [Er, Cindi. Who's Diana?]

  [Oh, yeah. Gary and Sondra's kid. Splitting image of 
Sondra. Work it in earlier, will you. So do say that 
Princess Di and her Royal Horse Trainer or whoever 
cuckolded Prince Charles and Charles and what's-her-
name cuckolded what's-her-name's husband who had but 
one wife to give for his country, but when that sheik 
got Di pregnant and then had her killed, that one 
didn't count because Di and Charles were already split? 
Can you believe that Charles told what's-her-name that 
he wanted to be her tampon?]

  [Probably. They speculate that House of Windsor is 
dull because of intermarriage, but it must be something 
else. But essays need to stay on the topic. So what 
happens next?]

Once when Sondra had been to a fashion show, the St. 
Louis hotel receipt Gary came across showed that it was 
booked in Paul's name.

  [Is Sondra a model or something?]

  [A designer. Models are too hung up staying anorexic 
to have good sex. Me, sure I've got small boobs, but I 
eat everything.]

It was the Thanksgiving when Paul stayed the night, due 
to the ice storm. They'd chatted till late and Gary had 
bid the two goodnight and gone to bed. Perhaps 30 
minutes later, the door opened and Sondra's silhouette 
looked in. She stepped back into the hall, pulling the 
door behind, holding the latch from clicking. Through 
the window, Gary could see the light from the living 
room reflected off the hedge. A few minutes later, that 
room grew dark. Gary waited for Sondra to return from 
whatever task she'd remembered, but knew that she was 
in the guest room.

Was she already naked, playing a game so long 
practiced? Was Paul knelt between her legs, one hand 
guiding, the other already on her breast? Were their 
hips rising and falling together? She would climax the 
way that was hers, with little gasps and then bite her 
lower lip.

  [Nice, Cindi. Much better than I'd put it.]

  [It's all in the details. So here's the rest.]

The thought of Sondra in orgasm made Gary erect, alone 
in their bed. It shouldn't, but it did. Replaying in 
his mind his own response to foreplay, he stroked 
himself as if he were she. He stroked again. And, lost 
in the wonder of it, again. Gary masturbated to the 
squeak of guest room bedsprings only imagined. When he 
came, he almost thought he was in his wife.

  [Hey, Holly? My little ideas plus how you use that 
thesaurus -dot-com! Umm, maybe I'll take a break and 
slip out for a few minutes. Won't take long.]

  [Cindi, you got a date this weekend and Aaron staying 
after school to work on his science fair model volcano. 
You can wait. Just keep telling.]

When Sondra slipped into bed some half-hour later, Gary 
feigned sleep. What could he say? He lay stiffly as she 
snuggled against him, not realizing until it was too 
late her knee over his thighs felt the wet sloppiness 
on his pajamas. She too froze.

When she saw that his eyes were open, she pulled back. 
"Oh, God, Gary! You were awake!" He didn't answer.

She moved toward him, but he'd turned his back. "With 
you here..." She didn't need to finish, but she did, 
"And you were alone." He didn't reply. "It was because 
of me, not Paul. You know that."

  [Hey, Holly, here I am getting all blubbery over a 
story I'm just making up!]

She cradled him and he could feel the sobs against his 
back. She told all. It was Paul who'd taken her 
virginity. What could she do after so many years, so 
many times, but to continue? Maybe that's why Paul had 
never married. Like Gary, he'd been captured.

"I've never been with Paul on this bed, never where I 
sleep with you." she'd stated, as if to say that their 
marital relation was special. She phrased her intimacy 
with Paul as "being with." Gary knew that it was love 
too, but perhaps somewhat of a different intensity.

She knew that Gary could divorce her, end up with Diana 
for what she'd done. She deserved it. It wasn't a play 
for sympathy; it was just her reality. Gary bathed her 
and made the sweetest love he could. She'd clung.

Sondra had been discreet, not wantonly deceitful. She'd 
slipped up. She probably just needed more sex, Gary 
admitted. Women often do, he'd read. Not a few of his 
friends knew their wives cheated with near strangers, 
"a fling". Their husbands fucked around on them too, so 
maybe it was even. They, some of them anyway, stayed 
together. Maybe just for a regular partner, Gary 
wondered, but maybe they too still shared love.

  [Great, Cindi. We got a winner! See where I put 
"discreet"? I could have used "discrete"... I didn't 
think you'd get it; you have to be a writer. So just 
tell me how it ends up.]

Gary and Sondra loved each other, had a child to raise 
together. Gary knew that Sondra shared nothing but her 
best with him. Even the Thanksgiving she'd had sex with 
Paul where he could have crept and listened, he'd loved 
her.

And about Diana? Some test done to see if their baby 
was his. Sondra said she was. But he never asked for 
Diana to be checked. Even if Sondra were wrong, Diana 
was his daughter. And Sondra needed the extra love.

  [Hold it, Cindi. We need to end this thing with a 
little wallop.]

  [No problemo, Holly.]

It wasn't so much that Gary was sharing his wife with 
Paul; it was perhaps more as if he'd been invited into 
something that had started long before. He'd never 
confronted Paul. What good would that do? Paul's being 
unaware that Gary knew made it easier for Gary relate 
to him as just his brother-in-law.

  [Hey, Holly? Get it? Paul was Sondra's brother! Like 
when they were kids, they'd been at grandma's and it 
was really cold up where they were sleeping. I can add 
a chapter at the front of my story.]

  [Too much work, Cindi. Just Google to "incest" and 
"grandma's house" and copy the text and I'll 
Edit/Replace the names to Sondra and Paul. We call 
throwing in new information at the end, "deus ex 
machina". It's a pretty cheap literary trick.]

  [Or, Holly, you could Edit/Replace Paul to Pablo and 
send our essay to that Mexican forum to discuss. But 
they probably wouldn't want your linguistic bit unless 
you make is Spanish.]

  [Maybe not. Anyway, for your kind of story, 
Shakespeare sort of covered why it's all's well that 
ends well.]

If I be his cuckold, he's my drudge. He that comforts 
my wife is the cherisher of my flesh and blood; he that 
cherishes my flesh and blood loves my flesh and blood; 
he that loves my flesh and blood is my friend: ergo, he 
that kisses my wife is my friend. (Act I, Scene 3, Line 
21)

  [Deep stuff there, Holly!]

SING ALONG

  [So Holly! Maybe we could sing that song, the one we 
like to do on road trips. We'll append an MP3 to our 
essay. I love the last verse.]

Now I came home the other night, drunk as I could be. 
Found a head on the pillow where my head ought to be.

Oh, come my wife, my pretty little wife, explain this 
thing to me. Why's that head on the pillow where my 
head ought to be?

You blind fool, you drunken fool, can't you plainly 
see? That is just a melon my granny sent to me.

I've traveled this wide world over, a hundred miles or 
more. But a mustache on a melon I never did see before.

  [Actually, Cindi, the last verse is about a head on a 
carrot. But we'd be breaking the copyright law. I took 
"Professionalism in Education".]

JOKES OVER THE AGES

  [Oops, I think I forgot to tell them, Cindi, this 
really old joke from "Tales and Quick Answers of the 
Jealous Man", 1535.]
A man that was right jealous on his wife, dreamed on a 
night as he lay abed with her & slept, that the Devil 
appeared unto him and said: Wouldst thou not be glad, 
that I should put thee in surety of thy wife? Yes, said 
he. Hold, said the Devil, as long as thou hast this 
ring upon thy finger, no man shall make thee cuckold. 
The man was glad thereof, and when he awaked, he found 
his finger in his wife's arse.

  [Maybe it's funnier if you wear a dress where your 
boobs about fall out like the girls back then, Holly. 
Here's something that's more up to data.]

The gigolo was brought to the stand, accused of 
sleeping with the plaintiff's wife.

The judge asked, "This man claims that you seduced his 
wife. Are you guilty?"

To which the accused replied, "I don't know, I haven't 
heard all the evidence yet."

  [From the Internet, Cindi, right? In almost 500 
years, you'd think that they'd have gotten better.]

  [Maybe there's a joke about cuckolds changing a light 
bulb, I wonder?]

HORNS

  [Well Cindi, here's something you didn't know.]

In a group photograph, some wag always holds V's two 
fingers behind somebody's head. This is based on an 
old, old tradition having to do with the horned one 
being a cuckold. As Shakespeare put it, "Like an old 
cuckold, with horns on his head."

  [Boy, Holly. That guy wrote so many things!  "West 
Side Story" and "Love Story" I really liked.]

  [Those were remakes.]

  [Same difference. It was so sad how Ali MacGraw died 
at the end, didn't you think? They should have changed 
the ending to make it more modern.]

A BIG PROBLEM

  [Wait! We've got a big problem, it just occurred to 
me, Holly berry. We have no knowledge here!]

  [American Heritage is really a good dictionary. And 
you're really good at Googling.]

  [Sure, but let's face it. We're two single females. 
We can't be in a cuckold story 'cause it's a married 
couple plus another male. We'd do better with the word 
for seducing mid-school boys, so the reader doesn't 
catch that we're just providing filler. Like those 
sports commentators.]

  [Older young males, we should call our students. In 
British schools, maybe they'd call it giving their 
"practicals". We could still write about cuckolding 
from the perspective of voyeurs, though.]

  [Like being on a voyage on a cruise ship? Might work. 
Hey, Holly, dibs on the first mate! Get it?]

  [Rats! Publishing an essay is extremely important in 
the career of an emerging author. Especially an essay 
about Shakespeare.]

  [Like a science graduate maybe inventing a great 
chemical. I did have this idea a new kina of Viagra, 
but District won't let us have mercury in the chem lab. 
We have to test things in science.]

SOLUTION

  [So Cindi, I was thinking. We change our essay to 
contextualize why District watches the male faculty 
like hawks. The guys darn near can't have doors on 
their classrooms any more. And little old us? I'm 
showing Jeremy Zimmerman how to work the stage lights 
for our "Peter Rabbit" production and already I've got 
him to touch my bra.]

  [You can use my science supply room. There's a cot in 
case somebody faints from messing up the sulfur 
experiment. The you-know-whats are where the shelf's 
labeled "R".]

  [So there's no way, even, that anybody's getting 
cuckold with us, right? Linguistic impossibility!]

  [If your dictionary is right about the cuckoo bird, 
anyway, we can't do it. If cuckold's somehow a compound 
word like I said, though, maybe you do it to Jeremy 
Zimmerman while he's figuring out your hooks, Holly.]

  [Possibly. Winning really depends on strategy these 
days, don't you think, Cindi Barton?

  [Yes, Holly Rennick. I'd only want to add that in the 
game's final minutes, execution's so very important.]

THE END

Holly on the Web

Wherever you found this story on the web, thank you to 
the server. My problem is that I've no systematic way 
to update the various servers. As literary errors (or 
just poor word usages) are made known to me, I'll 
repair that which is salvageable on 
http://www.asstr.org/~Holly_Rennick/. My website's not 
much graphically, I admit, but HTML isn't my native 
language.

You can contact me via the site's message form, that 
HTML code by the smart people at ASSTR.

I won't be changing the story significantly, so if you 
didn't like it before, that much will remain the same. 
But if you did like it, an update may read a bit more 
cleanly.

Holly

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Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 27