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   Date: Sat, 10 May 1997 14:36:31 +0200

   From: Michael Suelmann <suelmann@forwiss.uni-passau.de>

   Subject: 203

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   MRWADE.203 BY MASTER WADE



   Pots and Kettles



   I drove the first four of the nine miles to Harry's house

   considerably above the speed limit.  It took me about that long to

   calm down after the argument with Jenny.

   "Why do you always have to go see Harry?", she asked, when I

   told her of my plans.

   "I like Harry.  He loves to shoot pool and he's lousy at it,

   for one thing.  And he never runs out of beer.  Everyone should have

   a friend like that."

   "Right.  Those two whores don't have anything to do with it,

   I'm sure," she said, chopping an onion into far too many pieces.

   "Jenny, the girls aren't whores.  They've lived with Harry

   longer than we've been married."

   "Then why doesn't he marry one of them and send the other one

   packing?  They don't even work anywhere.  Don't tell me they're not

   whores."

   "And how long did we live together before we got married?  Just

   because someone decides not to get married doesn't make her a

   whore, Jenny.  And Harry doesn't want them to work anywhere else.

   They both help him with his business, you know."

   "You'll never convince me, Mark.  They stay with him because

   he pays all their bills.  They play for pay, in other words, and

   that makes them whores in my book.  But go ahead, go see your

   whores.  I don't care." She slammed the knife down flat on the

   countertop.

   I counted to fifteen before I said anything further.  Ten just

   wasn't far enough, under the circumstances.

   "You don't like all my friends, and I'm not crazy about all of

   yours, Jenny.  But Harry has been my friend for a long time, and

   I'm going to see him to shoot pool and drink beer.  You can think

   whatever you like." I was shaking all over when I walked out the

   back door of the house.

   By the time I turned into the long driveway that wound its way

   through the tall pines to Harry's old country home I had calmed

   down quite a bit.  I didn't like to argue with Jenny, but she was

   being very unfair where Harry and his girls were concerned.

   Harry met me at the door even before I could ring the bell, as

   usual.  I never knew for sure if he had a sixth sense about

   approaching visitors or if he could hear a car coming up the

   driveway.  He detested air-conditioning and his windows were

   usually open, so I generally believed the latter to be true,

   although with Harry you could never be quite sure.

   "Well, shit...you been fighting one of those married couple

   battles again, I see," he said, holding the door open for me.

   "And what makes you say that, you nosey old fart?  You reading

   tea leaves today?" I walked on ahead of him into the room he

   called his office, which was actually more of a library, with all

   four walls lined with books.

   "Only have to read your face to see it.  Jenny doesn't care

   much for you coming out here, does she?"

   "There are a lot of things that Jenny doesn't like much these

   days, Harry.  Nothing personal."

   "Uh huh," he said, sitting in the over-stuffed leather wingchair next to
the window.  "I like Jenny, and I'm sorry she feels

   that way.  Be willing to bet it's the girls that bother her though,

   isn't it?"

   "I guess she's a bit old-fashioned, Harry.  One live-in

   girlfriend to a man is about the most she can handle, I guess."

   Harry laughed that deep rich laugh that is so endearing and

   disarming.  "I've heard it before, Mark.  Most of the time they say

   that only whores would be willing to put up with a situation like

   mine."

   "Well, the word did get tossed about a bit.  I guess that's

   what made me so angry.  Alice and Beth are anything but whores."

   "They'd appreciate that, old friend, but I guess there is a

   bit of truth there, when you come right down to it.  I'm no fool.

   I know how long they'd stay if I didn't take good care of them

   financially."

   "Shit, Harry," I said, "how long do you think Jenny would stay

   if I didn't take good care of her financially?  I'm not sure that

   makes them whores."

   "Well, it's all just words anyway, right?", he asked.  I was

   struck by the sudden realization that Jenny might well be more

   influenced by money than Alice and Beth were.  They certainly

   seemed happier than Jenny.

   "Yeah, just words, but words can carry a lot of pain with them

   sometimes, Harry.  Especially lately.  Jenny's been charging nearly

   a thousand a month to charge cards and I can't seem to get her to

   stop.  It's really making it tough, but we can't talk about it

   without both of us getting angry."

   "Whew, I guess that does make it tough.  What does she buy?",

   he asked.

   "You name it.  Clothes, presents for house-warmings, new

   towels and sheets, cosmetics, pet supplies...there's no end to it,

   and she claims it's all things we need.  Damn...we may need it, but

   we can't afford it, for cryin out loud!"

   "I know that's gotta be tough.  Sorry things are going badly."

   "I bet Alice and Beth together don't spend that kind of money

   on things like that, do they?" I asked.

   "They seem to have most everything they need, I guess, Mark.

   But you didn't come here to talk about all that, did you?  Let's

   shoot some pool."

   We moved into the "rec room" as he called it.  Alice and Beth

   had beat us to the punch and were finishing up a game of eight

   ball.

   The two girls were no relation to each other, but they got

   along like sisters.  If they'd ever had a cross word with each

   other I surely hadn't heard about it.  It amazed me that Jenny

   could be more jealous of them than they were of each other.  I had

   known for a long time that Harry had sex with both of them.  He

   didn't like to talk about it, but he didn't deny it when asked,

   either.  I wondered if the girls were also involved with each

   other, but I had never worked up enough nerve to ask about that.

   "Hiya Mark," Alice said, smiling warmly.  "I guess you two

   guys want us to show you how to shoot pool, huh?" Beth chuckled

   and smiled at us.  They'd beat us on more than one occasion, mainly

   thanks to Harry's pathetic play.

   "Sure, as long as we don't play for money.  My partner is

   severely handicapped, you know," I said, tipping my head in Harry's

   direction.

   "Handicapped my ass," he snorted, chalking his favorite cue.

   "I just didn't waste away my youth in the local pool hall like you

   did," he said, with some degree of truthfulness.

   We shot pool for the next couple of hours.  Harry and I lost

   more than we won, but that really didn't matter.  It was great

   therapy for me and I left in much better spirits than I was in when

   I arrived.

   Jenny was already in bed asleep when I got home, which I

   suppose was just as well.  We resolved arguments best by trying to

   forget we'd ever had them.

   Over the next several days, however, I found it hard to forget

   the ugly things Jenny had said about Harry and the two girls who

   lived with him.  They were friends of mine, really good friends,

   and it hurt to have her talk about them that way.

   The more I thought about it the more I began to seriously

   wonder if Alice and Beth spent anywhere near as much of Harry's

   money as Jenny did mine.  I also found myself wondering if he

   didn't get a much more satisfying return on his investment than I

   did, both sexually and otherwise.  I didn't enjoy such thoughts,

   but neither did I have to work at having them.

   It was on Friday, a week to the day after having been to see

   Harry, that I noticed the ring laying on Jenny's night-table.

   Jenny loved jewelry and was forever buying something new.  I

   generally didn't even bother to try to keep up with her purchases,

   but this was no ordinary ring.  It was diamonds and emeralds and it

   must have cost a fortune.  I could hardly believe my eyes.  I

   didn't trust myself to ask her about it, at least not before I had

   some idea how much it really had cost.  Maybe it wasn't real

   diamonds or something.  I decided to wait until the next round of

   charge card bills arrived.

   I didn't have long to wait.  When they came there was nothing

   on any of them that reflected a purchase as large as I would have

   expected the ring to be.  There was a reciept from just one jewelry

   store and it was only a couple of hundred dollars.  Obviously I was

   wrong about the value of the ring.  I was relieved, but still a bit

   suspicious.  It wasn't like Jenny to buy anything that wasn't

   genuine.

   I usually try to get in a round of golf on Saturdays, weather

   permitting.  The Saturday following the arrival of the charge card

   bills started out with high skies and bright sunshine, so I jumped

   at the chance to chase the little ball around.  My favorite course

   is nearly an hour away, but I don't mind the drive.  It gives me

   time to prepare myself mentally for the game, and to get over my

   frustration at not playing well on the way back home.

   On this Saturday I returned home earlier than I had

   anticipated.  The skies clouded over and the rain began just after

   lunch and I headed on back.  You'd never have known it was raining

   at the golf course by the weather at home which was still as bright

   and sunny as it was when I left that morning.

   There was a car in the driveway that I wasn't familiar with.

   I assumed Jenny had a friend visiting and set my golf-clubs in the

   garage.  As soon as I walked into the house I knew something was

   wrong.  There was a man's sportcoat draped over the back of the

   couch in the den and no one was within sight.  I closed the door

   quietly and then heard the sounds that husbands hear in their

   nightmares.  I didn't have to go into the bedroom to know what was

   happening.  I sat down in the recliner and shook my head sadly.

   It occurred to me that the man might be someone I knew, and I

   wasn't sure whether to stay or leave.  I got up and went through

   his jacket, looking for some indentification.  There was a reciept

   in one pocket from a local jewelery.  One diamond and emerald ring.

   Thirty-five hundred dollars.

   That was all a little over a year ago, and my divorce from

   Jenny was final yesterday.  Luckily I was able to keep the house

   and the furniture and my lawyer even managed to see to it that

   Jenny got stuck with the charge card bills.  It helped, I think,

   that her husband just happened to be the one who bought the ring

   for Jenny.

   I spent quite a lot of time out at Harry's for a while, and

   quite pleasantly discovered that Alice and Beth both had younger

   sisters.  They get along beautifully and never mind when I want to

   go see Harry.  And believe me, nobody, ever, at least not in my

   presence, calls them whores.

   The End

   The entire Master Wade series of erotica may be found on Wade's

   World BBS, (703) 694-5460, ansi terminal emulation, 8,N,1, 12009600
baud.