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Harry Pt. 01

By: EgmontGrigor2011



* Set in New Zealand

*

Gradually friends and family left the house following the post-funeral function until only Harry's youngest daughter Anita remained.

"Dad I'll stay the night. You can't be in this house alone, not tonight of all nights.

"Off you go love. I won't shoot myself. I'll have a few quiet drinks and think about some of the times I had with your mother."

"Dad you scare me when you say you won't shoot yourself. Give me the gun; I'm taking it with me."

"Nah you'll only end up accidentally putting a bullet through that useless jerk you live with."

"Dad I know your father hated lawyers and you grew up with that prejudice. Arnold is rather nice otherwise I wouldn't be with him."

"Does he fuck you stupid?"

"Dad!"

"It's okay, I can talk rough. Your mom's not around."

The attractive blonde burst into tears and Harry hugged her and said yeah, he missed Amy too.

Anita left ten minutes later after more tears and kisses and without the gun. She'd been told if she wished to take it she'd have to fight her father to get it out the door.

She sniffed, "You always were a tough bastard. Why on earth I've always loved you I have no idea. You and your ways would make some of my girlfriends vomit."

Harry grinned, well used to Anita's stretching of the truth.

"Tell you what Anita," he said, patting her ass. "Drop that chiseling lawyer and get yourself a tough-ass man and marry him and live happy ever after. You have a pathetic streak in you and need a guy around you who's rough diamond and will stimulate you." 

"God you are an asshole. Well let's say you're right, and I'm not saying you are. How do I make your grand ideal happen?"

"Keep telling the lawyer his breath stinks and he's getting fat and he'll soon leave you, guaranteed. And then you phone Steve Young who has a daughter and ask can you meet him for a drink. Say you wish to talk about moving in with him. You've always wanted a family. You haven't managed to get pregnant so the next best thing is to marry into a family unit that's without a wife/mother."

"Dad!"

"Listen baby, just because he was the first guy to get into your pants that's no reason to vilify him. And he's possibly the best fuck you're ever had."

"How could you possibly know that?" she shouted.

"Father's know these things," he said inventively and watched her face turn crimson.

"Just do it baby."

She was crying again. She kissed him, called him an asshole and hugged him tightly, and when they reached her vehicle she sniffed as he opened the door of her SUV. She climbed in and said she'd think about what he'd said.

"You've been a marvelous dad to me and knew how to fill the hole for me emotionally when I learned how mom thought the sun shone out of Lynette's butt."

"You now control your own life Anita. Line up the life you want for yourself, no backing off. Lynette's less than happy in marriage and you must work to avoid making similar bad decisions. Take the chance to mother a girl who needs a mother."

"Bye dad, and thanks. Oh don't be mad if I take no action."

The women had cleaned up for Harry and someone, probably Lynette, had even left him a ham salad with two slices of buttered bread under a tea towel with a big slice of apple and apricot tart for a light evening meal. He thought weren't women great and poured a whisky and thought about his dear deceased Amy.

* * *

It was a long time ago, mid November 1967, a time when small town evening newspapers were flourishing although the threat to their existence from TV was already biting into economic viability through competition for advertising and luring away readership. It was a time of social liberalization of people though improved pay, growing ownership of motor vehicles and an improved national economy as time pushed beyond the recovery years that followed the destructive period of World War 11.

Harold Boone, now calling himself Harry, had just turned eighteen and been promoted from a cadet grade three reporter to a J1 (a first year junior grade) reporter on the Rutherford Times in the small North Island city of Rutherford.

The short, fat and balding managing-editor Mr Bassett stood in the doorway of his office and shouted, "Boone to my office, briskly now."

Not another grading lift already, Harry thought optimistically.

He trotted through the newsroom, ignoring the curious stares and nodded to Mr Bassett as he went past him into the dingy and very untidy office. He stood and looked down at the seated girl and checked if she had breasts. Something appeared to be there.

"This is my niece Amy Wiseman, youngest daughter of Major Wiseman, DSO."

"Good morning Amy."

She nodded without replying.

"You are making wonderful progress in learning the ropes here Boone. I'm attaching Amy to you and want you to teach my youngest niece everything you know to accelerate her progress. My sister, Amy's mother, expects this of me."

"Are you sure females are suitable to become newspaper reporters sir?"

"How dare you question my judgment."

Harry was up to this debate. "No one is perfect sir and judgment can become clouded when dealing with relatives."

The face of the unpopular editor turned purple and he was shaking in anger and his glasses were fogging.

"The boy is right Uncle Toby. "It's mother who wants me to become a journalist and she pressured you. Do you want me here?"

Uncle Toby pulled out a handkerchief, pulled off his glasses and mopped his face.

"How old are you Amy?" Harry asked and she said was going on seventeen.

"Why don't you finish high school?"

"I have completed. I'm what is known as being academically advanced."

Harry nodded and said that equated to being very bright.

"Have you ever cleaned toilets?"

Amy was nonplussed and said, "Of course."

"Been in fights with girls?"

She nodded, not looking at her uncle.

"Been in the homes of very poor people?"

"Yes and I've nursed the sick. Is this you assessing me if it's possible I would stand up to the rigors of being a gatherer of news?"

"Yes she's very bright Mr Bassett and appears capable of standing up for herself. I think we should give her a trial."

"I have already decided to sign her on Boone. Stop attempting to do my job for me. Amy will start in the morning as a first-year cadet and will remain at your side during all your working hours and I want you to pass on your knowledge, holding nothing back."

"Certainly sir."

The editor looked suspiciously at his junior reporter. "So Boone, what has changed to produce this new attitude?"

"In my opinion, after due deliberation in assessment, I believe Amy has the potential to knock the spots of some of the younger reporters you currently employ."

"Oh do you think that, backed by your wide knowledge and great experience. Just watch that you don't get too big for your boots Boone."

"Yes sir."

"That's better. Now that you have seen and heard from this arrogant young chap Amy, are you prepared to work in tandem with him?"

"Yes Uncle Toby. He has the potential to succeed with me."

The two males stared at seemingly meek Amy.

"I'll get her motor going and then there will be no holding her back Mr Bassett. Then I'd expect a fat bonus to come my way."

"Back to your desk Boone and work hard and the only thing fat around here is your smart alec lip."

"Whatever you say sir. Until tomorrow then Amy. For god sake wear a shorter dress and lipstick."

"Boone!"

The shout rattled the flyspecked window that gave a dreary view out to a moss encrusted brick wall of the pressroom.

Boone left the room hastily, taking care not to slam the door.

This relationship between Boone and his editor would have appeared strange to Amy if she'd been aware the relationship socially was very friendly with her uncle calling Boone Harry and Boone calling his editor Toby.

Everyone in the long newsroom looked at Harry, having being distracted by the editor's angry shout.

"Back to your desk and finish that article Boone," called Mr Spencer the chief reporter. "You have been sacked have you?"

"No stir. I was called in to receive my usual commendation and to meet your new reporter."

"A commendation for what and what new reporter?"

"You will be advised in due course sir. As you know I have a growing reputation for being first with the news."

"Boone you tell me now or I'll screw off one of your ears and kick your ass."

"Please be gentle with me sir. I believe Mr Bassett shared this information with me about the new reporter in confidence. You told us in training sessions as reporters we must never breach a confidence."

"Yes you fool but that does apply when I need to know something."

"Well you won't have long to wait sir. She starts in the morning."

"She!" Mr Spencer almost yelped.

A buzz raced around the room. Even Jack Smith the racing editor, who was having a nap having been at the racecourse that morning at 5 a.m. to observe time trials of horses being prepared for races on Saturday, sat up straight to listen to discussion on this startling revelation.

Harry bashed away with two fingers on the black battered Imperial typewriter, finishing his article based on his interview that had began at 8:20 of the new Chief Postmaster on his first day on the job.

Mr Archibald had predicted that within a few years practically all mail would be delivered at centers around the country by airplanes.

Asked if that would make the mail trains obsolete he'd replied, "I don't believe so. The Railways is a Government department and Governments don't declare their unionized employers redundant. The mail trains will be given another name and people who staff them will have their duties redefined. For example perhaps they will be called flower trains because they take flowers to markets or butter trains because that take butter to ports for shipment to markets overseas."

The Chief Postmaster was asked couldn't airplanes also take flowers to markets and he replied, "I daresay that could happen. I hadn't thought of that. Perhaps there will be redundancies."

The young reporter took his article, typed double-spaced on to one side of A5 sized paper, the article being submitted now called 'copy', and dropped it into the wire basket called 'the copy box' on the chief reporter's desk and a carbon copy into another box in case it was deemed good enough to be edited and taken to the Post Office to be telegraphed to the national news agency in Wellington that supplied subscribing newspapers in New Zealand and also subscribing foreign news agencies.

Mr Spencer took the ten pages held together with a paperclip and said quietly, "What's her name Harry?"

"I don't have a girlfriend sir."

"No you fool. This new female reporter."

"It's starts with 'A' sir." Harry whispered and turned away.

"Boone get your butt out of this office and go and find us a front page lead story. Leads don't have to be always written by senior reporters. Earn your wages."

Scowling and playing with his pencil moustache, the chief reporter looked at the story in his hand about the new Chief Postmaster predicting the demise of mail trains. Mr Spencer realized he was holding that day's lead story providing nothing of greater moment turned up.

"How did that insolent young jerk manage to screw something like this out of a senior civil servant like a Chief Postmaster who traditionally are as tight-lipped as the Queen's portrait on a postage stamp," he muttered.

Harry went to the illustrations department and asked for a photographer.

"What's the assignment?" asked the surly illustrations editor Nick Smith, working on a crossword puzzle.

"Roving."

"What?"

"I've been asked by the chief reporter to go out and find today's lead story."

"You poor sod, that's his method of getting you out of the newsroom because it embarrasses him seeing you sitting on your bum and not knowing what to do."

"I've already written the new Chief Postmaster story."

"Oh you did that? Frank said that was a great interview."

"Thanks Mr Smith."

"You cheeky prick. I wasn't complimenting you. I don't compliment reporters; in fact I don't give reporters the time of day. Now piss off."

"I want a photographer."

"Well you're not getting one, savvy?"

"In that case I'll have to report your refusal to Mr Spencer. I understand Mr Spencer was your sergeant during the Korean War?"

Nick gave Harry a murderous look and yelled, "Jack out here with a camera and go with Boone on roving assignment."

The cadet photographer Jack Reynolds walked off with Harry very excited, saying he'd never been on a roving assignment.

"What do we do?"

"We keep our eyes open for the slightest lead."

"What a woman's dress falling down?"

Harry sighed and said it was unlikely Jack would ever become an ace photographer if he thought flippantly like that.

"Sorry Harry. I wasn't aware you could be serious."

They walked the streets without the slightest sniff of anything unusual and Harry noticed no woman's skirts were falling down.

They were almost back to the office when it happened.

A guy rode along slowly on an old Indian motorcycle and stopped just up from Ben and Jack, pulled a revolver out of the pocket of his ex-Army trench coat and fired four shots into the Penny Arcade across the road. He'd remained standing still astride his idling motorcycle.

One bullet hit a woman in a white dress in the chest and she screamed and fell, blood appearing. She lay still and silent.

People shouted and screamed.

"Oh shit," Jack said.

"Take a shot of the gunman, do it now," Harry ordered.

Jack reacted well and did that.

"No get much closer... take a full frame (35mm) shot.

Jack did that, getting quite close. 

The gunman saw Jack and aimed and shot him.

"Jesus," cried Harry, darting forward to the fallen Jack who was groaning.

Two guys aged about forty, were grappling with the guy.

Two women were bent over Jack and Harry thought they had a chance of helping Jack more than he could. He picked up Jack's dropped camera and went in real close and took one exposure as the gunman in the struggle fired two more shots into the air. 

He saw Harry who was only a little over six feet away, aimed and pulled the trigger.

Harry froze and heard the gun click and then saw the two men finally pulled the big guy off his motorcycle and leap on him.

Harry turned and rushed back to Jack who'd taken a bullet in the chest.

His eyes were glazed and he said softly, "I'm done for Harry. Please tell mom and dad and Jill I love them and always will."

"Hold on Harry, and ambulance will be come."

"Let me at him son," said Mr Livingston the chemist. 

"I'm an ex-Army nurse. Let me help," said a woman who crouched down beside Mr Livingston.

Harry, feeling terrible, took that photo. He then took a photo of the exterior of the Penny Arcade, amazed how clearly he was thinking.

He then rushed over to the arcade and photographed people around the dead woman, at least she looked dead and women bystanders were weeping. Jack went inside a little way. People were still screaming and he photographed a woman with a scarf trying to stem blood from a guy's ear. He'd been shot along the side of the head.

Jack entered the cashier's booth that was empty, grabbed the phone and called the chief reporter.

"Bert (Mr Spencer) it's Harry. There's been a big shoot up at the Penny Arcade. I had Jack with me and he's dying. The maniac shot him while Jack was taking his photo. One woman is dead. Get photographers and reporters down here fast. I grabbed Jack's camera and took half a dozen photos so alert Nick (Mr Smith) I'm coming in."

Harry slammed the phone down before the chief reporter had uttered a word and rushed outside where a huge crowd had gathered. With relief he saw Jack was being lifted into one of the two ambulances. Well it was now over to the medics.

Running back to the office around a corner two streets away Jack saw two Times photographers running flat out down the street and two reporters not far behind them. They just waved and he didn't shout out in fear of diverting them.

Harry was still amazed how calm he was and in his mind he saw the first minute of that dreadful shooing flicking over in his mind time and time again.

He raced up the stairs and into the newsroom and shouted, "Jack could be done for... bullet in the chest... very close range."

Nick Smith raced up, hands outstretched. "Give me the camera buddy. You did brilliantly Harry. Guys like you saved our butts during the war."

Bert Spencer came up and held out his coat. "Put this on Harry and keep calm. Shock could hit you any time soon. Terry just phoned to confirm what you said about the shoot-up. Drink this. It's milk with a slug of brandy. Sit down here and just quietly tell me what you saw and I'll write the story, your story. It's best we do it this way."

Harry was almost through when shock hit him. He shook and his voice quavered badly.

"Sorry boss," he said and began sobbing.

"Harry it's fine. You're young and learning. Nothing like this has ever happened to you before. Just sit quietly for a couple of minutes and led my assistant Brenda hug you."

"What about Jack?"

"No news but let's think no news is good news. Police confirm the assailant is in custody. He was dismissed from working at the arcade yesterday after being drunk and sexually assaulting the cashier. Sergeant Rowland said it's thought the guy was a sniper during the war. Thank god he wasn't armed with a rifle."

Harry said, "Continued holding me Brenda. I think you are helping to calm me. Let's continue with my story boss. I can still see the images. God I hope they don't stay with me."

A photographer took a photo of Jack in Brenda's arms and dictating to Bert who had an old-fashion visor shading his eyes from the overhead lights as he typed. It was one of the photos that appeared in that afternoon's 'Home' edition and Final edition of the newspaper. The 'Country' edition missed the big event because its print-roll had finished half an hour before the shooting and the 'paper cars' were already delivering those newspapers to rural towns and individual rural subscribers.

Harry had been a member of the city's camera club for three years so his photos had come out fine. Jack's had too and amazingly Jack had taken a photo of the guy about to shoot him. 

The newspaper reported Jack had been badly wounded and was unconscious and his condition was critical.

As soon as Harry and Bert were clear, they took a cab to the hospital. Illustrations editor Nick Smith had gone on ahead of them.

Nick told Bert and Harry that there had been no change in Jack's condition but he'd spoken to Harry's mother and the chief surgeon had told her Jack had survived long enough to suggest he had a fighting chance of pulling through the trauma.

At that Harry remembered one think he'd forgotten when dictating the story.

He moved away from the group and followed the signs to the critical care unit.

A severe looking woman said only immediate family members were allowed beyond her station.

"Could you please ask Jack Reynolds family to come out here so I can talk to them."

The senior nurse took a close look at Harry and held up that afternoon's newspaper and said, "This is you isn't it, Harry Boone?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Wendy takeover please."

Another nurse came forward and the senior nurse took Harry to the room where Jack's family and their church clergyman were gathered, drinking tea.

"Omigod, it's Harry Boone," cried Jack's mother who had read the stories on the front page and all of page three about the shooting. "I really don't wish to hear sympathy or about this ghastly shooting," Mrs Reynolds said.

"Jack gave me a message for you before he fell unconscious."


Harry Pt. 01



Burly Mr Reynolds, a former coalminer, came forward and said menacingly, "Look son, if you have barged you way in here on some pretext to worm out a story for your newspaper then..."

"I urged Jack to go forward to get a better picture, hoping it could help him win a national award."

Everyone was stunned.

"It was the professional thing to do and I thought, and I guess Jack did too, that the two guys grappling with the gunman had him under control."

Mrs Reynolds said, "Well I suppose you were acting with best intentions Harry."

Her husband barked, "Like hell he was; he sent Jack in there to die."

"That's an outrageous, blustering accusation Mr Reynolds. No way would I do that if I thought the risks were that high. Here take a look at this. I brought this rough proof with me in case I met an unsympathetic hearing from you lot."

The bristling Mr Reynolds snatched the photo and said, "What the hell is this?"

"We didn't use that photo. After Jack fell I could see I couldn't assist, as the chemist and a former Army nurse were attending him, and we published that photo, I grabbed his camera and went right up to photograph the two guys attempting to restrain the big guy and he broke partly free. He saw me with the camera and pointed his gun right at the left hand side of my chest. I was as close as eight feet away. He pulled the trigger and I remembered saying aloud, "Bang you're dead." But miraculously I heard the gun click and no explosion. He'd run out of bullets."

"Omigod." Mrs Reynolds said. "How could you have coped with all of this high drama and huge danger? What are you, twenty?"

"Eighteen Mrs Reynolds."

Jack's sister who looked about twenty said, "You acted with incredible bravery Harry. Back off dad and allow Harry to relay Jack's message."

"Thanks Jill."

"How is it you know my name?"

Harry ignored that and said, "Please sit Mrs Reynolds and Jill you hug her."

They sat and Harry said, "Jack looked up at me and eyes glazed said, 'I'm done for Harry. Please tell mom and dad and Jill I love them and always will'."

Mrs Reynolds and Jill were crying and Mr Reynolds smiled at Jack and said, "Go on son." 

Harry sniffed, "I was aware I didn't have the skills to help Jack and then out of the blue came Mr Livingston the chemist and a former Army nurse who knelt beside him over Jack. I then rushed off to take more photographs and then raced back to the newspaper, knowing Jack was receiving aid and by then two ambulances had arrived."

"Oh Harry I'm very glad you gave me that message," Mrs Reynolds sobbed. "It brings me a little peace."

The clergyman said, "I think we should pray."

Harry used that interlude to slip away to rejoin Bert and Nick.

"Been chasing a nurse?" Nick joked.

"No I remembered something Jack said and thought his family might like to hear it."

"What Jack saying this was his first big news shoot?"

"No Nick. He wanted his family to know he loved them and always would."

"Jesus Harry, I'm sorry for teasing. You did a wonderful job today."

"Harry you certainly did," said editor Tony Bassett, walking up to join them. "It was a truly magnificent effort. You and Jack were ever so brave and we all are so proud of you. I phoned the chief surgeon; we have been pals since primary school. He told me infection if it takes hold or a blood clot could take Jack at any time but he's quite confident that Jack will pull through this. Jack being a competitive cyclist is superbly fit."

"Thank Christ for that," Nick sighed. "That kid put on a performance today that will lead to him becoming a great newspaper photographer if he survives this incident."

Bert said, "Amen." 

Harry's father and older brother arrived looking for him. They'd first learned about the shooting on the 3:00 pm radio news and when the afternoon newspaper arrived they learned about the incident in much greater detail and were astounded Harry had played such a major part in the news coverage when he was only a cub reporter.

Robert Boone said, "Come on son, you look tuckered out. A good feed and a big sleep is what you need."

"Yes dad," Harry yawned but then a reporter and photographer from the morning newspaper The Telegraph arrived and Harry was delayed twenty minutes for an interview.

"Why this interest in me? We guys are in competition with you," Harry said.

The reporter grinned, "We have obtained a great picture, better than the photo you guys ran of Jack photographing the gunman who shot him. A street photographer had raced to the scene and got a magnificent photo of the gunman taking a bead on you and you standing no more than six feet away from him. You must have just taken a photo because the camera was down neck high and you look startled rather than afraid and the gunman has his crazed look on his face. It's a cracker of a picture and we purchased the rights to it and it will probably be used around the world."

Harry just yawned.

Just before 4:00 next morning Harry's father shook him awake with the best news possible.

"Come on, get dressed. I'm taking you to the hospital. Mrs Reynolds called saying Jack is awake and says he wants to chat. He's scared you'll think he let you down."

"Bloody hell dad," Harry said, jumping out of bed. "What's that guy on about? He behaved heroically."

* * *

Harry, the post-death stress making him feel his sixty-three years, enjoyed thinking back to those early times. He yawned and thought he should eat the salad but then had another thought and poured another couple of finger of whisky and allowed his mind to drift back.

* * *

In the hospital waiting room the chief reporter had told Harry to take the rest of the week off but Harry told Bert no way, the new reporter was due in next day and would be expecting Harry to team with her.

When Harry had arrived at work next morning everyone warmly greeted him and Brenda, fussing, brushed toast crumbs off his jacket.

Bert had reminded him any arrangement with the new reporter was off. "We don't have teaming units. It's too expensive and we expect reporters to learn by observing while they do menial assignments. Who on earth suggested she team with you?"

The managing editor came in through his side door and said, "I did Bert. This is my niece Amy Wiseman and I want her to have the best possible start as a newspaper reporter and want her to work alongside Jack because he's just been through that process and has learned a great deal."

"Yes of course Toby," Bert said stiffly. "I think it's a great idea."

"Well get started with the induction. This is the head of your department Amy, chief reporter Bert Spencer, a fine journalist. He served in the war in Korea and was decorated. He will be in charge of your welfare and formal training although it will be our hero Harry Boone who will show you the ropes."

Bert muttered, "Jack knows nothing about teaching but he's great on the job Amy. Observe him closely and you won't go wrong."

"I read last night's paper about Jack's exploits Mr Spencer..."

The editor said, "Amy call him Bert, I'm the only one on staff you need to address formerly."

"I read about Jack's exploits in the paper yesterday Bert and was amazed that he still managed to emerge from that frightening chaos to come back to base with his photographs and contribute to writing a story."

"That's what a reporter is trained to do Amy but it also takes grit and determination on his and er her part. Please don't refer to our esteem publication as a paper; it's a newspaper."

"Sorry sir."

"And please don't call me sir. We're not in the army."

Having watched the editor depart, Bert stood and said in a loud voice reaching all the thirty-eight journalists spread about in the big room, "Attention everyone, this is Amy... what's your surname girl?"

Amy whispered, "Wiseman, Lionel and Jocelyn Wiseman's daughter."

"Amy Wiseman, Lionel and Jocelyn Wiseman's daughter. All of you will know Major Wiseman has announced his intention to run for the mayoralty at the elections in two months' time. Amy makes history here today in becoming the first female to enter general reporting on this newspaper since it's establishment in 1886."

Everyone clapped and the wiry racing reporter, an ex jockey, called out, "Yes indeed a historic moment BERT."

With the emphasis on Bert, honorific titles were virtually abandoned amongst all staff in all departments at the Rutherford Times that day although it would be sometime before managers began calling even juniors on their team by their first name.

Amy had bypassed the usual duties of first-year cadets such as running messages, running 'copy' to the chief reporter's desk to the call of 'copy' from reporters rushing to complete an article required urgently by the chief sub-editor including late-breaking stories, doing the early morning calls, drawing the weather map, pasting in 'clips' of senior reporter's work into their personal scrapbooks and finding the chief sub-editor's lost packet of cigarettes (usually found in the trash can) and filling paste pots. And doing everything with Harry except going to the toilet with him.

Three weeks later Harry began dictating his articles for Amy to type.

It didn't surprise him that Amy arrived being a touch-typist. Practically nothing about Amy surprised him. She even had her older cousin find a girlfriend for him.

In typing Harry's articles, usually called 'stories', Amy quickly picked up the 'form' of an article that adhered to the newspaper's general 'style' in respect of construction and all stories should have include 'how, when, where and why' in the introduction. She quickly observed that the preferred style makes all news stories sound roughly the same if read aloud.

"Yes," said Harry, who regarded her as his 'associate' rather than his assistant. "It's a style devised to make all news stories quick reads for busy people and people who read to absorb knowledge and to eliminate flowery language. It is possible to still develop a personal style. I can read most articles produced in this newsroom and tell you who wrote it, although admittedly if it's a shipping story I'd automatically assume the shipping roundsman wrote that."

"Bullshit."

Harry grinned. He'd interviewed her father a couple of times and he was a stickler for formality and her mother was very active in women's affairs and was rather aloof at the meetings he'd attended where she presided. So it had been rather endearing to find the youngest daughter had a more relaxed style about her with perhaps this touch of naughtiness. If toughness was also to emerge, this girl could have it all. She already had brains, flair and presence. People particularly women were already phoning in and asking to speak to Miss Wiseman.

It was happening for her.

Amy arrived with a newspaper two weeks old and handed it to him and she held the office's marked copy where each afternoon before leaving the office Bert would mark every office-produced article in that newspaper with the writer's or contributors initials.

"Look at the front page and tell me who wrote those articles," she said and he said why and was told she wished to determine if he were a liar.

"Fair go 'A' (as he often called her) don't waste your time. If I say I can do something or I did something then it's true. I only bullshit when I tease."

"Please."

"No."

"It's part of my training."

Harry looked at her and waited for a sound explanation.

"Um it will teach me one of the skills I need to pick up."

He sighed and picked up the newspaper and scanning the intro (introduction) and perhaps only the first couple of pars (paragraphs) went through the first five pages rapidly until Amy said almost in awe, "That's enough. You are simply amazing."

"Yeah well let's do this job. Bert wants me to interview your mother about what she thinks about possibly becoming mayoress of the city. We published your father's backgrounder last Saturday along with articles on the two other contenders who also are vying for the position with Mayor Jones not seeking re-election."

"My mother won't wish to talk to you with me sitting beside you."

"Okay I'll wait outside. I had decided to get you to do the interview anyway."

"Harry!"

"Shut up Amy. I don't like females who bitch."

"You asshole."

Even Amy appeared shocked she'd said that. Then she giggled and Harry's sternness dissolved and he punched her affectionately on the arm and she flushed as if interpreting that as a sexual advance.

"Your breasts are getting bigger."

Her face turned scarlet but she just turned away, not telling him to shut up.

"Well grab your stuff. I'm not taking a pad and pencil."

She sighed.

"That's the girl. We'll make an ace reporter out of you yet."

Harry took a camera. His new pal in illustrations, Nick Smith, had handed him a new Nikon F-series single lens reflex camera and said he was assessing it for purchase. He showed Harry how to use it and said with a huge smile, "Jack is coming in today to visit us. He expects to get a medical clearance to resume work by the end of the month."

Amy's mother Jocelyn greeted Harry more than politely, in fact warmly.

"Ah Mr Boone. How lovely to meet you. I have seen you at meetings I attend. Amy talks to us about you over dinner almost breathlessly almost every day."

"Mum," Amy wailed.

"Amy is coming along very well indeed Mrs Wiseman. In fact our other cadets are being left in her wake," Harry said smoothly and could see Amy gaping at him.

"Oh I am so pleased. I thought with her enquiring mind and love of reading Amy would be well suited for journalism, starting off by getting a thorough grounding in newspaper journalism."

Harry seized the opportunity. "Indeed Mrs Wiseman. So Amy steps up another rung today. You are to be her first interview."

"Me?"

"Yes Mrs Wiseman. I have faith. Do you?"

"B-but my husband's election prospects?"

"Have faith Mrs Wiseman. I'll photograph you during the interview and will also keep watch on Amy. Remember this is not surgery."

"Omigod, Amy says you are funny and irrelevant. I see what she means."

"Mum!"'

"What dear? If you tell me anything and wish it kept confidential then say so. Mr Boone is a smart young man. He will accept you are entitled to your opinion."

When Amy placed her article in the copy box, Harry strolled over to the hard-nosed chief sub-editor who everyone knew had been a sub-editor on the Times in London.

"Hi Reginald."

"What do you want?"

"Dad says you're a good companion to take out fishing."

"Yeah and I could listen to him all day. A good bloke is your dad."

"Amy's first 100% Amy article is coming through. It's a interview for Saturday on the wife of one of the mayoral hopefuls."

"Christ you didn't get her to interview her own mum did you?"

"Think about it Reginald. Who better?"

"There you go again, pushing boundaries you young pup. Okay I'll sub it myself."

"What I want Reginald is for you to use my caption and reinstate my wording that Bert will have crossed out. It reads 'Newly recruited cadet reporter Amy Wiseman interviews her mother etc...' Nick has agreed to use the photo I took of Amy interviewing her mother. He had no option because Amy is in all the frames. I made sure of that. Oh remember Reginald what I want used written in that form it's not actually a byline that are banned on this conservative newspaper and also remember our illustrious editor is Amy's fond uncle."

"Fuck off you whippersnapper."

"Oh is that an example of modern English? Thanks for your cooperation mate.'

"And good day to you Harry. Your dad would have still taken me fishing even if you had complained about me being uncooperative."

"Yes probably Reginald but it sometimes pays to play safe doesn't it?"

On Friday Reginald ambled over with a page proof from next day's magazine section.

"You two might want to see this. Read it and hand it back before Bert returns."

Amy gaped, "You took that photo?"

"Yes, I'm not entirely useless."

That was ignored. She gasped, and I'm in it and my name is in the caption. By-lines are banned."

"Well yes but that will change one day when we are the last newspaper in the country not to allow bylines on worthy articles."

"But everyone will know I wrote that feature on my own mother."

"Yes and they'll read and conclude it's totally objective and probably no worse and probably better written than the other two profiles."

"Omigod, you do have faith in me," she said, punching his arm.

Harry felt his dick stir. Jesus she was still only seventeen. He must wait.

"When's your birthday?"

"Ten months away. Might you give me something?"

"Yeah if you remain likeable."

"Oooh."

There was a huge stir and some shouts as Nick Smith came in proudly escorting his now famous young photographer. Harry hurried over and people already gathering stood aside to let him through."

"Welcome home buddy."

It was too much for Jack who was still in a chest restraint but no longer a plaster cast.

Jack wept.

Nick hugged him and Brenda was weeping and even some of the guys were sniffing.

It was a moment that people who were there would long remember. Jack looked so thin, so pale... so vulnerable.

He wiped his eyes with the cuff of his jacket and said, "I'm putting on weight at last. My surgeon thinks if I continue to make progress I could be back here on light duties by the end of this month. Luckily for me apart from the rushing around, photography is light duties. Where's this new girl Harry kept talking about when visiting me.

"Amy," Harry called and people stood aside to let her come through.

"Cor you're a great looker," Jack said. "But can you write?"

"Asshole," she said pleasantly.

There was a moment's stunned silence and then Brenda began giggling and everyone roared in laughter, bringing the editor out of his office and he growled, "What's this a fun day picnic?"

People turned to go back to their desks and then Toby saw Jack.

"Jesus Jack, it's great to see you back. Come on everyone, three cheers for Jack. Hip-hip..."

The din in the huge room was almost deafening.

That Friday ended up being a momentous day for Harry. Although Jack still appeared frail he actually did look a little improved from when he'd gone to be with Jack's family last Sunday to await Jack's arrival home by ambulance. Everyone had been amazed that after coming out of the ambulance in his wheelchair, Jack had stood and then walked to his mom and hugged her.

Then that evening when Harry took his girlfriend Diane to the pictures (as movies were called in those days) and they'd sat near the back row and hugged and kissed as usual, she'd pulled his hugging hand down the top of her dress. Realizing he'd been given license, Harry wormed his hand in and touched the breast. His hand rolled over the stiff nipple and Diane panted into his ear, "Oh that's so heavenly."

Eh?

Harry fiddled some more and was fascinated that her panting increased and then he found it necessary to stop because she was now groaning and then a woman behind them hissed, "Really young man."

Harry wanted to bolt out of there but Diane held on to his hand and he calmed.

Diane drove them in her father's car on to an empty building site in Harry's street and asked him earnestly, "Do you know anything about copulation?"

"Only what we were taught about animals during biology at school."

"Me too but I have been talking to some of my girlfriends and it appears little different."

"Yeah I'd heard that too."

"I'd like you to try it on me."

"Okay."

"Promise me you'll marry me if I get pregnant?" said the 19-year old.

"Okay."

"I was told if you withdraw before you begin to drip semen that occurs before you really discharge, the girl should be safe for pregnancy but there's always the risk that pulling out early was too late."




Harry Pt. 01



"I understand."

Diane, now breathing a bit heavier asked, "Do you masturbate?"

"Um."

"Come on Harry, I won't tell anyone."

"Well yeah. What about you?"

"Harry!"

"Don't lie to me Diane."

She hesitated and said, "Yes and I love doing it."

"Me too."

"But you've never masturbated me," she giggled.

"Jesus Diane, you're embarrassing me. Should we get on with it?"

They fiddle around and finally Diane said, "Omigod it's big."

"In comparison to what?"

"Oh I don't know."

"Surely you must."

She said wickedly, "My two fingers I push up my vagina. Now are you embarrassed?"

"No because I needed to understand what you were saying from your perspective."

"That's elaborate language for a girl who works in a dress shop Harry."

"Well what you work at has nothing to do with the rate you learn things Diane. You can still go to night school if you wish or widen your reading to further your education."

"Do you go to night school?"

"Yes I'm studying bookkeeping."

"Why are you going to change jobs?"

"No I'll be managing editor of the Times one day."

"God Harry you really are ambitious. All I want to do is to have babies." She giggled and said, "But not just yet. Um can I tell you something rather embarrassing?"

"Yes okay."

"One of my girlfriends, I'm not going to say who she is, pushed a sex thing for women into me too fast and too hard and it made me bleed. She called her mum in and her mother was so lovely about it. She said we ought not be playing around like that and what had happen was she'd breached my hymen."

"What's that?"

"If a girl has that she's considered to be a virgin."

"Well you still are a virgin as far as I am concerned."

"Oh thanks Harry. Could we get on with it?"

Harry got two fingers up her and Diane was enjoying that but he wanted the main course so they tried and in the cramped position in the front of the car couldn't manage.

"Guys talk about doing it in the back seat of the car," he said helpfully but Diane compounded the problem by saying she heard only sluts went into the backseat with a guy.

But she came through for them, using basic intelligence.

She got Harry go move over the gearshift to get away from the steering wheel and to move under her.

"I'll then sit on your lap, up a bit, and push you into me an then I'll bounce on you. Sex needs friction to happen."

They did that and groaning she worked Harry in and after undoing her bra said, "You are supposed to play with my breasts while we do it to excite me."

They got going pretty well and were both panting and then struck a problem. All too suddenly Harry's excitement went over the top and he felt his semen fly into Diane in great bursts.

She heard his groans, felt his heat and then felt oozing round the top of her thighs.

"Harry you idiot. You've put semen into me."

"Yeah sorry."

"Oh you idiot," she said lifting up and pulling his penis away.

"Omigod we are both soaking. Did you pee in me?"

"No of course not. Are you pregnant?"

"No of course not but if I miss my next period I'll know that I am."

"When is your next period?"

"God Harry, you don't ask girls that."

He sat back scowling.

As they drove off he asked, "When will I know?"

"Within three weeks."

"Will we have sex again?"

"Yes but let me talk to me mom first. We need to possess more information."

Those three weeks went by rather slowly for Harry and then came the great news. They met at lunchtime and Diane said happily, "I began my period last night."

Greatly relieved Harry managed to quip, "Are you supposed to talk to guys like that?"

A few days later when they went at it again Diane said he should fill her in semen if he wished. He mom had placed her on the pill. However her mom had said Diane might enjoy having her lover squirt on to her breasts and watch his face as she rubbed the discharge in.

"Discharge? Is that what it's called?"

"I think it has a variety of names. Semen is the proper name.

He said seamen had semen.

They laughed.

They drifted apart and less than eighteen months later Diane married a young clergyman. Harry and partner were invited to the wedding and he took Amy.

* * *

Unaccustomed to being alone in the house, missing Amy's presence, Harry went to the toilet to empty out processed whisky intake and then ate his salad and went to bed but was unable to sleep. His mind went back to those early days with dear Amy.

* * *

The chief sub-editor and chief reporter completed their lecture series and the five first-year cadets sat the exam. A poor result could mean dismissal from the newspaper if the cadet was also not performing well in daily routine. Cadets gaining 40% to 60% in marks automatically advanced to second-year grading and above 60% and if they were performing well in daily routines and showing good reporting skills, they could be advanced to year three in grade. Cadet fourth year was the senior cadet grading and no first-year cadet on the Times had ever jumped into that grade.

The two examiners met Editor Bassett to discuss recommendations.

He agreed to dismiss the one poor performer and to promote C1 cadets to C2 to grade and to make another C3.

Toby asked, "And what about my niece?"

Bert indicated Reginald should do the talking.

"Boss pairing Amy and she being such an intelligent and quick on the uptake young kid, has landed us with a big problem. We agreed to mark her hard to avoid showing favoritism, with her being so cute and being your niece."

"Yes well I think that was sensible of you. So what's the grading recommendation?"

"Junior second-year."

Toby looked at the two guys carefully. "We all know she's writing well and won a national award for a cadet reporter, all grades, for the best single interview, that one she did on my sister, but she's only been with us five minutes."

"Almost a year Toby," Bert said. "You better take a look at this."

Toby scanned through the five pages of the set examination and looked again at the mark on the front page.

"This is almost a perfect score, the highest mark ever awarded on this newspaper."

Bert stood and snapped, well if you don't have confidence in our ability to examine cadets then you set your own paper for Amy and have her re-sit."

"Sit down Bert. You're not dealing with an uppity underling. I have every confidence in you two. I'm thinking about those two. They are very close."

"Close? But Harry has a girlfriend and so does Amy," Bert said.

"You mean Amy is dating a girl?"

"No sorry, I meant boyfriend, Sid Yarrow's son Benny."

"Thank god for that. My sister would have killed me because she believes Amy is in my care. No my problem is Harry is due to advance to a J2."

They tree guys thought about that until Reginald said, "I know, ease the embarrassment by advancing Harry to J3. Everyone in the office knows he breaks more stories than any other reporter we have and he can always come up with an angle when sometimes his fellow reporters say there's no story."

"Well Reggie you and I know Harry's dad and you are pals so you would think kindly of Harry."

Reginald laughed. "Yeah boss and isn't it you when addressing our first-year cadets who says, 'It isn't only what you know in reporting, it's also who you know."

"That's taken out of context. I use that sentence when discussing the value of cultivating worthwhile news contacts."

"Newspapermen are always accused of taking things out of context," Bert said and Toby sighed and said his decision was Amy would advance to J2 and Harry would jump to J3.

"You're a good manager," Reginald said and Toby thanked them for their major contribution and said he'd post the memo of the grading changes after lunch.

Amy was among the first to read the notice and rushed back to Harry and hugged and kissed him soundly, ignoring the astonished stares around them.

"Congratulations you have been promoted to J3."

"Are you sure? I haven't received the pep talk that goes with a promotion?"

"You have advanced because of your huge ability young man."

"What is your re-grading?"

She giggled. "J2."

"Good."

"What is that all you have to say?"

"It's what I'd thought you merited but didn't think our chiefs would have the guts to do it. You are only seventeen."

"My 18th birthday is in two weeks. How may I reward you?"

Without thinking Harry looked at her breasts and look up to see her red-faced and she staring at him."

He looked away.

"Look at me," she said from her desk resting against his.

He looked and she whispered, "I'm a virgin."

"So?" he said, looking at her fearlessly.

"I say yes because I'd like it to be you. I have no intention growing into an old virgin."

"Well you just think carefully about it, do you hear?"

"Thank you Harry. I regard that at the most gallant comment I've ever received."

"Steady on Amy, don't get too carried away," he grinned. "Off you go, the other cadets and waiting to go with you to a celebratory afternoon tea. Poor Michael is in with your uncle being axed."

"Well he should have resigned at least six months ago. He knew he was struggling and found the competition too tough. Newspaper reporting is no place for weaklings."

Jesus, Harry though, watching her walk off and thinking she was putting waggle into her ass. Well she was prime meat for sex and he'd gained enough experience to make her first go at it memorable. After Diane had found someone else her older sister had latched on to him for almost a month and they'd had sex almost every night and she was a real goer and really taught him the ropes.

"Hey Boone, J3 reporters don't sit at their desks daydreaming."

"Sorry chief."

Bert smiled and said it was okay, that Harry Boone could never be called a slacker.

Next morning Harry was called to the editor's office. He found Mrs Wiseman was there, dressed to the nines.

"Good morning Mrs Wiseman."

"It's a very good morning Harry. I'm here to reward you."

Huh? He looked at the clutter on Toby's desk and then remembered Mrs Wiseman was Amy's mother and Mrs Wiseman was married and no way would he want to do it with Toby looking on. Then sanity returned and he warned himself to quit fantasizing; it would only lead him into trouble and anyway she was old.

Ooops she was talking to him.

"... you have been of tremendous assistance to Amy and not doubt she will also reward you but I wish to be first."

Holy cow and she was saying that in front of her brother!

"I have deposited a sum of money at Wilkinson The Tailors in your name and I've been assured the sum is sufficient for a good quality suit to be made for a man of your age."

"I don't know what to say," Harry said and that was the truth. He was rarely flabbergasted but this was one of those occasions. Cripes this would be costing her a packet.

Her brother butted in; that was so typical "Just saying I thank you for your generosity will be quite sufficient Boone."

"Mrs Wiseman it was a pleasure rather than a chore introducing your daughter into the mechanics of newspaper journalism but nevertheless I accept your generosity in the spirit in which it was given. Thank you."

"Oh my word Toby, we have a very couth young man here. You must treasure him."

"Boone back to your desk and earn your pay."

Harry winked at Mrs Wiseman and she smiled.

Amy said, "What did our grumpy editor want?"

"If you had any idea of what half the staff on this newspaper were like you might have some idea why he's act grumpy."

"Yes I guess you're right. Here's a little something for you. I'm showing appreciation for what you have done for me and also in recognition that I'll gain a fatter pay packet thanks to you."

Harry opened the package and examined it and told himself not to ask what it was.

"It's very nice."

"It's a silver friendship ring, and indication how much I admire and respect you."

"Jesus Amy don't go overboard on spending on me or with accolades."

She giggled. "Oh here's something from mom."

She's already given me something."

"What was that?"

"Oh nothing," Harry said and opened the envelope. "It's an invitation to your birthday party at the Orient Hotel on Saturday."

"Yes mom suggested you be added to the invitation list. She said I ought to be adding males of your caliber to my circle of friends."

"We should book a room in the hotel for that night," Harry joked.

"Okay."

"He croaked, "It's the top hotel in the city. Rooms cost a small fortune."

"I'll pay half."

"Oh no I can't let you do that."

"Well I'm paying the hotel for half a room whatever you decide Harry so please don't waste my money. It's not as if you are dating me. We are going there to fuck."

Harry was scandalized. "Amy you can't use that word."

"Why not between friends? I'm told when guys are together they use it all the time."

"Only guys with rough edges."

"Do you use the word Harry?"

He turned red and clamped his lips. 

Amy giggled and said she thought so.

Harry's mom Marion acted excitedly when he pulled out the invitation at dinner and handed it to her and she read it.

"Oh Harry, you are beginning to rub shoulders with high society. Well done."

She handed the card to her husband Ted. "Hmmm you're right. She went to a private girl's boarding school in England and Lionel is bound to win the mayoralty election on Saturday week. He's not very keen on fishing."

"Oh I wasn't aware of that," Marion said vaguely.

"I remember seeing the great knocker's on the Wiseman's older daughter," Harry's brother said.

"Kevin apologize instantly or else you'll be sent to your room," Marion gasped.

The guys grinned and Kevin said sorry mom and calm was restored.

Harry then told his parents he'd been promoted two grades to J3.

"Oh my darling, congratulations," said his mum. "Come around here and let me kiss you. For someone without a university education you are doing extremely well."

"I also received a letter today for night school advising I've passed Stage 1 in bookkeeping. I'm also advised if I go to university in Wellington or Auckland it would count fully as Stage I in accountancy for a BA degree."

"Oh Kevin you must reward Harry."

"How?"

Kevin smirked, "Take him out fishing."

"Dad my reward would be for you to say no to that."

Ted laughed and said, "You have great humor kid. I'll have a chat to one of my fishing pals and ask if he'll give you private flying lessons. He's ex-Air Force and owns a rebuilt Tiger Moth.

"Jesus dad..."

"Harry!"

"Sorry mom. Dad that would be wonderful; I can pay."

"No you won't, your mom said I was to reward you," said his father who was production manager at the region's farm fertilizer manufacturing plant.

"When do I get a reward dad?"

"When you gain your first mate's ticket," Ted told his 22-year old son who worked as a deckhand on one of the harbor board's tugboats. "I might get you off that old motorcycle and into a half-decent car."

"There you go Kevin," said his mom. "That's real incentive."

"Do you promise me that dad?"

Ted roared, "Roll your sleeves up and come outside you cheeky young pup."

"Ted, calm down. Yes your father promises you that car Kevin. If he doesn't I'll get the money off my parents."

"No you won't, I'm paying," Ted said, going red in the face.

"Ted I said calm down. There you go Kevin, you can see your father is absolutely committed."

Harry, who'd been sitting back enjoying seeing the sparks fly, had immense admiration for him mom's style. She could really handle men. She worked as day manageress at Kingfisher Restaurant, quite a high-class joint but as she said, some of the drunks become troublesome and they are almost always males. She would be probably the only woman in the entire city who could handle his dad who had a huge reputation for the way he handled his fists. He still went in unaccompanied and sorted out brawls at the fertilizer works and would come home still a little bloodied but he'd never hit a woman.

Harry also admired his dad's code. If he knocked guys down and they apologized for fighting afterwards he'd never dismiss them and if they were involved in further fights he'd just whacked them harder next time and put them on the foulest job at the works. That was cleaning out kilns Wearing a gasmask was necessary because of the fumes left as residue after the burning of sulfur to create sulfuric acid that is then used to dissolve rock sulfate. The completed product was marketed as superphosphate and used to top-dress pastures to improve grass growth.

Next day during his lunch break Harry went to the tailors to enquire about getting his suit made. Mr Wilkinson Snr was called to the counter and said, "Who opened this account for you young man?"

"Mrs Jocelyn Wiseman sir. I'm a reporter on the Times with her daughter Amy."

"Ah yes. I will look after you personally. Mrs Wiseman has deposited a considerable amount with me and so we will make a fine suit made for you."

"Would it be ready for Saturday night because I need a suit to wear to Amy's 18th birthday party at the Orient Hotel."

"Oh yes, that is suit territory. Unfortunately it takes us approximately three weeks from initial fitting to produce the finished article because they will be other suits in the production line ahead of your order."

"Oh dash."

"Hmmm. I can understand your anxiety. We hire suits but since you are becoming a valued customer I will hire you a suit and charge you only the dry-cleaning cost."

"Oh Mr Wilkinson, you've saved the day."

"Well Mrs Wiseman highly esteems you young man and I highly esteem Mrs Wiseman because she sends in her husband and his three brothers in here regularly for new suits and she gets her jacket and skirt suits made here as well. Do you see how it works?"

"I do sir, indeed I do. I am an elementary bookkeeping student so am gaining a fundamental understand about how business works."

"Good for you son, good for you. Now let me measure you up for the suit and those measurements will also apply to your fit for the hire suit or should I say the loan suit?"

At the office and without embarrassment, Harry asked Brenda to buy him a very attractive bra and panty set.

"Good gracious, buy you a lingerie set; are you undergoing a sex change?"

Harry tried to sink through the floor but the only movement was his knees bending.

"I-I-I don't think you u-u-nderstand."

"Of course I do. I was only teasing. You want the purchase as a birthday present for Amy, right?"

Harry pulled out a handkerchief and mopped his brow and dried his palms and muttered yes.

"A bad move Harry. Amy will say loudly in front of everyone including her parents, "Oooh, this is from Harry and will open it and flush and her parents will be shocked and her father may perhaps look murderous, wondering what you have been doing to his daughter."

"I've done nothing out of order Brenda."

"Ah but we only have your word about that. What if you are lying or exactly what is your definition of keeping within the bounds of decency?

"Oh Brenda, please help me."

"Yes darling. Auntie Brenda will help you. As it happens I saw her the other day looking in the window of Altman's Office Supplies at a portable typewriter that are very expensive."

"Brenda you sweetheart that's it. A grand present for her."

"Brenda looked around nervously and whispered hoarsely, "Harry I really don't think you ought to be openly address a married woman as darling."

"Now who's embarrassed," he grinned. "But thanks a million."

The purchase was expensive, far more than what Harry had intended to spend and but he had a feeling about Amy, he didn't really know what that feeling was except to think she deserved the gift and didn't believe it would be money down the drain. Also he'd had his friendship ring valued for insurance purposes and had been astounded at the valuation, so much so that he took it to another jeweler and the valuation came in at almost $20 above the first valuation.




Harry Pt. 01



* * *

It had been a big day for Harry that included the agony of being at Amy's burial service and talking all afternoon to people and drinking too much whisky and, he yawned, there were times when even old guys needed to have a good sleep.

Fuck breast cancer. Why did it have to kill damn fine women, in his case the woman he'd married and cherished for all those years?

Harry had a good sleep and after a pee decided to just sit quietly and reflect. Now where had he broken off last night? Oh yeah, the birthday party. That was the beginning of the black period in his life.

* * *

Although the Times published six days a week, when Harry finished high school he fortunately joined the Kingston Rugby Football Club based in the suburb of Kingston simply because two of his closest friends lived in Kingston, considered to be the wealthiest suburb in the city. He had to cycle quite a way to get there because his family lived in a poorer area, within half a mile from the noisy port and the fertilizer works was in the industrial area just to the south-west of the port.

Although the family was no longer scratching for money, his parents had no plans to move from the house built by Harry's grandfather and his father who'd just left primary school and didn't go on to high school. His mom and dad had purchased the house from his grandparents at the time his mom became pregnant for the first time. Harry considered the six and a half mile cycle to the football club was great for fitness. If he were injured there always was someone to drive him and his cycle home.

It was fortunate he chose Kingston because six months after he joined and was doing well, playing as a winger in the Seniors B team, Toby Alton Bassett was elected club president. Toby was rather unpopular while at the same time was hugely respected because of past services to the club. As a young guy Toby had become the best halfback in the club's history and began playing for the club's top senior team at the age of seventeen.

He went to university in Wellington to obtain a BA and played halfback for University A and in his final two years there gain a trial for selection to the national team but the competition edged him out on both occasions. He returned to Rutherford and the club accepted him back with open arms and he began working as a reporter at the Times, then owned by his family who later sold the publishing company to a group of investors. Toby returned to the Kingston club and was immediately selected as halfback for the Senior A and played there for the next eight years, during which time Kingston dominated the other city rugby clubs and twice won the provincial premier championship. By that time Toby was team captain and was brilliantly masterminding tactics on field.

Toby was senior club selector when young Harry joined the club and Toby recognized the winger's talents and picked him for a trial with the Senior B team. Harry was off to a good start and scored twice between the goalposts that day, cutting back in from the wing and jinking in through opposing players combining speed and his ability to step sideways off either foot to elude groping tacklers. 

A couple of months later Toby offered Harry a job as cadet report on the newspaper now owned by an investment company and Toby had been appointed editor. As a result of that rugby link, Toby make it quite clear that Harry had been recruited as a Monday to Friday reporter, leaving him free to play rugby in winter and to maintain his fitness level up through summer by being a volunteer surf lifesaver and competing in their constant training sessions and rugged competitions with other clubs at surf carnivals. 

On the morning of Amy's birthday party, Harry played rugby on the wing for the senior A team and within five minutes of the game starting dived for a loose ball and collided head-on with a big Maori defender. That player rubbed his head and went back to his position while play halted and medics attended vainly to stop the blood flow from at big cut on Harry's head. Harry was carted off the field on a stretcher and taken to a nearby medical center to have the cut stitched. Harry's father arrived to take him and his bike home and was told to watch his son for the effects of possible concussion and that meant checking him through the night.

On the drive home, Ted looked at the bandaging around his son's head.

"We'll stop to pick up your loan suit eh?"

"That doc said I need 48 hours in bed and to be watched for concussion."

"Look that's just being cautious. You've been looking forward to going to this party. What we must do is to say nothing about possible concussion to you mum and then you'll be free to go to the party. Just sleep till evening and if you feel okay then go to the bit bash at the Orient."

"Yeah dad, great idea."

Harry arrived at the party in a great suit but because he was wearing a head bandage was shunned by most people as if he had an infectious disease.

Amy's mom Jocelyn Wiseman came up to him mouthing sympathy and then flattened her breasts against his chest and mashed his lips with a wet kiss while murmuring, "Oh you beautiful sexy boy." 

Only then did Harry realize she was drunk.

"Hi Harry," greeted Amy, darting in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek and then stepping back and saying the obvious, "What did you do to your head?"

He said he cut himself shaving. She gave him a funny look and turned away to greet someone else. He put the wrapped typewriter on the table for birthday presents and grabbed a beer off a tray carried by a waitress and she asked, "What did you do to your head" and he replied, "Her husband came home unexpectedly and hit me with a hammer."

She hurried off, looking back at him nervously.

So that was the extent of conversation most people had with him.

Amy excitedly opened presents in front of onlookers and when she ripped the paper off the encased typewriter she shouted, "Omigod, a Swiss-made Hermes, the Rolls Royce of portable typewriters."

She scratched around and only then did Harry realize he'd not put in a card.

She called, "Who gave me this?"

The lush she called mother, being held up by Amy's father, said, "I saw Harry come in with that present."

"Oh Harry darling," Amy called sweetly. "Where are you?"

Someone pushed Harry forward and Amy dashed up to him but skidded to a halt and said, "Thanks a million. That is a very expensive present. You must really like me" and then turned back to the table to resume opening gifts.

A guy and a woman came up to Harry and both said hi.

"Hi."

The attractive and busty woman said, "I'm Amy's big sister Jo-May Curtis and this is my husband Russell. 

"Oh hi guys, Amy had mentioned she had a big sister."

"Yeah well we live in Wellington and so are more or less out of touch with the family."

"That's a shame. What do you do Russell?"

"I'm parliamentary secretary for the member of Parliament for Southern Lakes District."

"Oh that must be an important job."

"Some think so. If you'll excuse me I'll chase after another drink."

Jo-May stayed to chat and was swaying a little.

"God I wish there was somewhere I could freshen up. We had a family dinner before coming her and more drinks before that."

Harry became Gentleman Harry. "Look I've taken a room here tonight. I'll go and fetch the key. You wait at the elevators."

"That's very kind of you Harris."

"Harry."

"Oh whoopsie."

Harry wasn't sure if there were two keys for each room and didn't know the name Amy has used to book the room. He asked for the key for the room for Mr Harry Boone.

"Mr and Mrs Harry Boone, yes here we are. Do you wish to take Mrs Boone's key? She didn't take it when she registered."

"Um no thanks."

He went to the elevators and went to hand the key to Jo-May but she said he better accompany her because she wasn't a bona fide guest. Harry wasn't sure what that had to do going to a room to pee and wash her face.

During the next three or four minutes as they rode up one level and then walked to the room Jo-May led the conversation and chatted about everything except her family.

They entered the room and she headed straight for the bathroom and didn't close the door. Harry heard her twinkle and smiled, wondering if the other part of it was well used. He looked out of the window and saw nothing much and sat on the chair and wished Jo-May would give him a look at her breasts.

Five minutes later Jo-May wandered out totally nude and said she better lie down for a while.

Harry got his eyeballs back into their sockets, having really appreciated seeing the breasts, the best he'd ever seen uncovered.

"Join me on the bed after grabbing a towel Harry."

"What was that?"

"Grab a towel and join me on the bed and then dab my brow when I tell you."

Harry screwed up his nose and thought why hadn't she said dab her tits, er her breasts.

As he arrived back with the towel poor Harry was suckered. He'd had the occasional female at the rugby club come on to him but being seasoned camp followers they were right up front and say something like, 'Let's go outside and find somewhere where we can fuck' and he'd follow the female eagerly like a puppy. 

He'd never met anyone as devious as Jo-May.

"Harry don't get on the bed with that lovely suit jacket. You'll crease it."

That was good advice. He took the jacket off and placed it carefully over the back of the chair.

"Oh take your pants off while you there. You've wearing underpants aren't you?"

"Yeah," said Harry who by this time was becoming suspicious.

But that eased when Jo-May didn't say and remove his tie and shirt as well in case he creased them. And she wasn't feeling well and that's why she was taking a rest. His mom often took a rest if she had a headache. Everything appeared in order.

As he sat beside Amy's sister and eyed the breasts she said, "Do you like big tits Harris?"

He didn't say it's Harry because he was still dumfounded she'd called them tits.

"Yeah they are okay," he said, thinking it was best to throttle back.

"Oh," she said, sounding disappointed.

He decided to compliment her. "You have a very athletic body."

"Well I put a lot into it forming my body like that. I play in the forwards as a North Island field hockey rep."

"Fair go you must be good?"

"I'm really good Harry," she said huskily, getting his name right that time.

He mused yeah but really good only at hockey?

"Feel the development of my upper thigh muscle Harry."

He moved in a bit tentatively and eyeing her hairy vulva could see the protruding lips.

"Up more Harry."

"Not up here Harry," she said, taking his hand and dropping it right on to her vulva and she kept her hand over his, applying downward pressure.

"Play with it Harry," she said, pulling her hand away and he knew she wanted him to fuck her.

Christ she was married. Oh shit and she was Amy's sister. How the hell had he landed in this situation? He felt faint.

"What is it Harry."

"I feel faint."

"Oh that will be your head injury," she said rolling away.

"Here lie back on to the pillows."

Harry felt relieved. He could be out of this compromising situation within a couple of minutes.

He rested on the pillows and closed his eyes momentarily and opened them in shock, becoming aware Jo-May was struggling to pull down his underpants. Her lusty look had the immediate effect of springing his penis erect and he watched almost mesmerized as her mouth opened wide and with drool streaming she placed her wide-opened mouth over the turgidly erect penis and he felt it encased in warm, moving membrane and tongue and experienced exquisite pleasure.

Disappointment flared for him when she spat out his penis after thirty seconds. Oh given an hour of that sucking and tongue dabbing and scraping teeth and he'd adored her for ever, er for at least a couple of minutes while the after-glow diminished. 

Thump. She landed her full weight on him.

He looked up in alarm. How was he going to get away with her sitting astride him?

Eh?

Jesus she was pushing his penis into her vagina.

Harry was overcome in a hot flush. How could he get out of there while she was doing that?

She was facing away from him and she wobbled about drawing her knees back under her butt and then she began lifting and dropping, lifting and dropping...and suddenly he didn't want to go anywhere. He was being fucked!

Oh it wasn't very sexy with her facing away from him like that and not talking but his penis felt it was being clutched in a velvet glove. He felt his dick was where it was meant to be.

But that euphoria was blown asunder.

He heard the door open and, with his mouth open in lust as he tried to thrust upwards on Jo-May's downward drop, he saw framed in the doorway Amy and her mother. He watched stunned and their jaws dropped and then looked stunned.

"Jo-May," they shouted almost in unison.

He knew he didn't have a chance of remaining unidentified.

Amy, obviously getting her mouth closed again, opened it to scream, "Harry!" and begin wailing.

Jo-May had looked around at them but hadn't stopped.

Harry reached around and grabbed a big handful of breast and pulled it sideways and called, "Stop."

"Ejaculate," she called.

Huh?

The door slammed shut and their unexpected witnesses had gone. Jo-May tried to continue but it was no use; the erection was deflating fast.

Jo-May whined, "Why did those stupid women have to arrive right then?"

Harry said he didn't invite them.

"Now they know you were fucking me," she spat.

Huh?

"They are so stupid. I wanted you to try to impregnate me. My husband hasn't managed to do it."

"But I don't want a baby at my age."

"You fool, my only need for you is your semen."

"Oh. I really think you should have said."

"And what would have been your reply?"

"Possibly I might have said no way."

"Exactly."

"But if you had shown me your breasts I might have been consented to be seduced."

"Are you serious?"

"I think so. Tits like that can be a pretty powerful persuader."

Jo-May began dressing and Harry took the last lingering glance at those tits. If she could call them tits well so could he.

As he was pulling on his suit jacket she wrote something down.

"Here's my phone number in Wellington. Give me a call if you get down that way. I'll arrange it so there's no coitus interruptus. If someone other that me answers your call ask is that the fish shop. We get a lot of wrong calls with people wanting to order fish and chips; they transpose one of the digits."

"How interesting, thanks," said Harry who figured he knew what interruptus was but had no idea was coitus meant. A coil of something perhaps? His mum would know.

"Are you going back into the party?"

"No way."

"Yeah good idea as my husband Russell might suspect something. My mom and sister won't blabber because they are both a little scared of me. That's why I'm virtually the outcast of the family. I get drunk, smoke cigars sometimes and fuck indiscriminately. The family regards that behavior as unacceptable for some reason. I guess it's because we have different moral standards. I set my moral by what I think rather than what I'm told they should be."

"I can understand that," Harry said to indicate he understood what she was saying but it seemed a rather lax approach. "You did the right thing by moving to a larger city."

"Bloody oath."

He was amazed she could swear like that. He'd understood it just wasn't done for a female to speak like that. She should know; Amy had told him her sister was twenty-six. 

Harry walked into the office on Monday morning and Mr Bassett was waiting for him.

"Into my office Boone."

The tone told Harry this wouldn't be an unexpected grading promotion.

"You despicable rat. He's your termination money. Sign here and get out of my sight."

"What is the reason for this Bassett? Harry was riled so called the editor by his surname.

"Leading mayoral candidate Mr Wiseman has demanded you be dismissed and be told to leave the city. He wants no scandal associated with his family."

"Is this about what his wife saw on Saturday night?"

"Yes you corrupted asshole. Jo-May is my niece."

"Talk to me again like that you little jerk and I'll floor you."

Toby backtracked quickly. "Let's be reasonable about this. Please just go quietly. I'm under orders to make it happen."

"Under orders from whom?"

"My boss. Lionel Wiseman is chairman of the company that owns this publishing company."

"Oh Jesus. So you are not really putting the boot into me?"

"No I would have just ranted and told you to behave, that you simply cannot go around having sex with my married niece and other wives."

"No other wives have invited me to have sex with them unless some of those loose women at the club are married."

"Well if you wait to be asked you'll go without but enough of that. Now answer carefully; are you refusing to leave the city?"

Harry had no intention of leaving the city so said yes.

"Ah a good answer. Here is the portable typewriter I've been asked to return to you and Mr Wiseman said if you refuse to leave town then he asks would a thousand dollars be incentive enough to change your mind?"

"Crikey it sure would. I could buy a car."

"Well here's the money in cash. I suggest you find another newspaper. Here's my first-rate reference and is well deserved." 

Ten minutes later Harry had said goodbye to everyone (Amy had not come in to the office) and was out in the street, feeling he was a rich young man. He balanced the typewriter on the handlebars of his bike and rode home.

His mom cried when he told her the news. Harry slept all afternoon and when he was having a beer with his father and brother his mom told them about Harry's dismissal and the reason for it.

"Isn't that adultery?" asked his brother.

"Yeah."

"What was she like and did she have all her clothes off?"

Their dad cracked his knuckles and the brothers sat quietly and sipped beer.

A discussion on Harry's future continued during dinner and finally his mom said, "The sensible thing to do is to go to Wellington and attend university and take a part-time job to support yourself."

Harry had to agree that was better than anything he and his father and brother had come up with. He was going to mention the thousand dollars and give them each $100 but then thought he could skip buying a car and live on that money. 

To Be Continued...



Harry Pt. 02



Returning from the bathroom after shaving and noting his daughters had completely removed every trace of their mother from that room, Harry thoroughly read the morning newspaper of which he was now managing editor. He made a second cup of coffee and sat back and thought about that time he'd left the city all those years ago, virtually being tossed out by his girlfriend's influential father... 

After that successful 'What should I do now?' discussion with his family about his future, Harry Boone boarded a bus next morning and traveled for many hours to the southern North Island city of Wellington, the capital of New Zealand.

Spending the best part of two days searching, Harry found a sun-facing ground floor room in a rooming house and was glad to vacate the cheap hotel where he'd spent two nights amid fleas and a cacophony of outside noises of an indescribable nature.

Two days later he'd been accepted as a late enrolment at Victoria University as places were available in the BA course following early dropouts and no-shows. His Bookkeeping I pass was accepted as an Accountancy 1 credit and he was very happy about that, filling a little section of the deep hole he'd found himself in.

On Saturday local government elections were held throughout the country and watching TV that night Harry learned that Amy's father was the new mayor of Rutherford. The previous day he'd been called in for a second interview at the National Press Bureau as an editorial assistant to work the unpopular 4:00 pm to midnight shift and on Monday received a letter of appointment in the mail.

That fulltime job meant a hard grind for much of the year when he had daytime university lectures and tutorials but he had needed a job to survive and at least the work was journalism. 

The letter of appointment stated Harry had won the position in the close contest because he was the only applicant who indicated he would be happy to work Saturdays and Sundays as part of his 5-day working week. When ask about working weekends he'd said yes, every weekend if required, knowing that reply could swing selection his way but it would ruin his social life and mean he could no longer play rugby. 

It was impossible to have everything going his way and hadn't his ability to shine in social life landed him in the pits?

He sighed thinking after the shock discovery of finding him carrying on with her sister, Amy would now hate him forever.

It was a desk job. The bureau operated like a subscribers' cooperative. Stories arrived from individual newspapers throughout the country and were selected or dumped. The selected stories were quickly processed and distributed to all subscribers to the bureau's service including overseas members. Subscribers contributing stories selected received a credit against stories from their bureau they uplifted. 

Harry was soon bored by the unchallenging nature of the work but at least the pay was good and the hours slotted in nicely with his university commitments. 

Sub-editors did the selection/rejection and re-edited contributions to the bureau's standards. Any stories that required re-writing or substantial reduction or to have anything verified went to a small team of editorial assistants of which Harry was a member. 

With unspent wages beginning to mount up Harry decided it was prudent to open a bank account. The bank he chose was particularly careful about opening accounts for new clients and so he went it with his driver's license and university card to establish his identity and the bureau chief provided him with a letter providing confirmation Harry was of good character. Harry waited in the banking chamber until a side office door opened and the woman called, "Mr Boone please."

They looked at each other in astonishment. The bank officer was Amy's sister Jo-May Curtis.

Closing the door behind him she said, "How wonderful to see you again Harry." 

He turned and said yeah and when she put out a hand to be shaken he brushed it aside and placing his arms around Jo-May kissed her and she didn't back off.

"Wow," she said.

As she moved off to sit behind her desk he said, "Pregnant yet?"

"No," she said and with a sly smile added, "Have you thirty minutes to spare?"

"Yes of course, I moved down here three weeks ago. Your father got me sacked."

"Yes so I heard."

"Oh?"

"Mom is still talking to me, with difficulty at first but she was so fired up about the upcoming mayoralty election she was soon bubbling to me again. My father and sister wouldn't come to the phone when I asked mom to call them."

"That's the penalty of being a bad girl."

"That's not funny Harry."

"Oh so it's not the truth?"

She sighed and said yes she was a bad girl. 

"I have other people waiting. So let's open an account for you."

When those formalities were complete Jo-May said, "May I note your home phone number and call you sometime?"

"Yes sure it's a shared phone but you can call me at work. I'm afraid I'm pretty scant on social time with my job and university."

"But you have some weekend time off?"

"Not really. I work on my university studies from 9:00 Saturdays and Sundays until I leave for work at 3:30. Oh I often have Mondays and Tuesday evenings off work and sometimes they change to any two consecutive nights through to and including Friday."

"But you need sex don't you?"

He smiled and said he probably didn't need it but he would like regular sex.

"Then we'll arrange something," she said. "I like having sex with you. You have a big dick."

Harry walked out of the bank feeling very happy thinking he'd like to fuck Jo-May properly. What had happened previously she'd been in control and it ended in disaster with Amy and their mum walking in. He'd talk to the rooming house owner about having a woman in his room all night. It would be good if Jo-May could get free to allow that to happen. House rules were that visitors were required to leave by 10:00 pm.

For the next two days Harry's dick, as he was now calling it, was never less than being at half-mast. He was learning the real meaning of infatuation and rather liked the feeling that gripped him. An image of Jo-May's tits as he remembered them were never far from mind. He lost the half-plus erection after forty-eight hours when he began thinking negatively she'd never come... er would never visit him. The effect Jo-May was having on him was worrying. For fuck sake, he growled at himself, he should back away because she was married. 

Harry attempted to lecture himself on the morality of the situation but failed to be impressed by his inner good sense. He just wanted to fuck Jo-May and be fucked by her; end of story.

Harry's editorial performance came under the eye of the bureau chief who's noted Harry worked quickly and accurately. When a sub-editor resigned the chief talked to Harry.

"In the short time you've been here young man you've become a standout in the processing team."

"Thanks chief. Does that equate to a lift in pay?"

"That depends," he said and Harry pricked up his ears. But what came next was not what Harry wanted to hear.

"Phil Riley is leaving to return to England. I'm prepared to promote you to his position."

"But he works Monday to Saturdays, 3:00 to 11:00."

"Yes."

"Hmmm. I have one-hour university tutorials two afternoons a week."

"Harry the agency is a career-supportive employer. I will allow you to arrive late on two afternoons a week subject to you having to attend tutorials and I will amend your work hours to 4:00 to 11:00 and adjust your pay accordingly."

They discussed that and Harry accepted the position and terms and conditions and would start his new position in three weeks.

Harry had Jo-May's phone number but after securing the permission of the female owner of the rooming house to have a woman in his room occasionally, providing his visitor was gone by dawn, he hesitated and then decided not to call Jo-May to tell her the love nest awaited her. 

He reasoned by now she may have decided not to renew involvement. 

* * *

Harry was jolted out of thinking about yesteryear by the phone ringing.

"Hi dad. I'm glad to hear you sound a little chirpy today."

"You were calling to check I hadn't shot myself."

There was no reply from Anita.

"Well?"

"I think I knew you were too fond of life to do that. I'm the one who's down. My mind has been galloping about what you said about ending my current relationship."

"That shouldn't have worried you."

"We've been together seven years dad and I put a lot into the relationship."

"Well yes and would have got something out of it but you remain childless. You're thirty-seven and are in danger of missing the boat."

"I accept I'm probably too old to carry a child."

"We'll don't. Snuggle into bed with Steve and when his young daughter jumps into bed with you two your body may decide she needs a kid brother or sister."

"God how can you be so optimistic?"

"Because I'm made that way and I believe you are too but you've never learned to let go."

"That's hard to believe. Anyway are you letting mom go?"

"Yes the process has started but it will take a little time."

"God how can you do it? I suppose you might even marry again."

"Yes."

"Dad!"

"Just don't tell your sister about that little aside we just had because if you do she'll have a fit. Now don't mention this subject again. If I decided to take that step you'll be the first to know. Anita finish with your guy tonight and as soon as that is all cleaned up called Steve Young and invite him to a bar for a drink. Don't dress sexy and don't be too nice to him. The idea is to make him think about fucking you and then you can built from there."

"Dad I don't like you using that word."

"Tough. Goodbye Anita and you get tough, do you hear? Don't waste your life."

A day after being appointed the agency's most junior sub-editor, Harry received a call just as he was about to leave for work.

"Harry a phone call," Mrs Harrison said knocking on his door.

"She has a lovely voice. It must be her."

"Harry raced for the hallway phone that all twelve residents used.

"Harry Boone."

"Do you still get erections?"

He grinned knowing there was only one female who would speak to him like that. With new-found bravado he said, "Open your legs, wet it and you'll find out."

"Harry I approve of the way you speak to your ladies," Mrs Harrison murmured as she went past behind him.

He cringed slightly but didn't feel too badly about it and meanwhile heard Jo-May say, "You really are a great guy to know Harry." 

That sounded very promising.

Jo-May arrived after driving her husband to catch the 8:30 inter-island ferry to Picton across Cook Strait where he would spend some of the day playing his violin in a quartet prior to the start of a huge wedding, billed as Picton's 'social event of the year' and then play at the wedding reception. 

Harry met Jo-May as she arrived at his rooming house. She was rosy-cheeked and looked very happy and her greeting was, "Come in, inside and fuck. I'm dripping and I've waited for my optimum time of the month for conception."

Although restrained by clothing, Harry's dick snapped to attention and Jo-May said something that boosted Harry's desire to really perform, hopefully resulting in the best sex he'd experienced. She simpered, "God I do love sex; hammer me Harry."

As she undressed he looked at her vagina and asked, "Can I lick it?"

"Of course you can Harry. Doing that excites me. Now don't be so stuffy. Call it my pussy or even cunt if you wish but be aware it upsets some females and even men hearing it being called a cunt."

"What about you?"

"Mutually engaging in filthy language during the act of sex sends me over the top darling."

Harry later acknowledged to himself that Saturday morning, wallowing in sex like animals with Jo-May under her urgings, he became a man. That surprised him because he thought that change to how he saw himself would come in church when he married or when he saw their baby for the first time or perhaps when he received a job promotion that came with the tag 'salary' rather than 'wage'. 

It hadn't occurred to Harry that special feeling of manliness would ultimately come to him when he crashed on to his back, eyesight dimmed substantially, sweat running off him and feeling he didn't have sufficient energy to walk down the passage to the toilet. The triggering moment probably was when he was draining his balls, sinking his teeth into her shoulder and she yelling not to mark her and he screwing a finger up her back passage just as she'd instructed him to do.

They wallowed three more times that day and at the car when leaving to when go home for a bath before going to meet the inter-island ferry from Picton, Joy-May tiredly kissed him and sighed, "I've never felt so totally fucked. I can scarcely walk."

"Drive carefully," Harry said, that feeling of manliness was back. He credited that performance to the inter-action with Jo-May who seemed determined to make him perform to his potential. Also his fitness had improved since he'd started working out at a boxing gym.

"I'll call when I want you again," Jo-May said as she waved and drove off, leaving Harry disappointed by her callousness. Well the thing to do was to find a goodly woman to link to a regular source of sex and be free of the morality issue of adultery. 

He knew he seemed to prefer woman to guys in respect of friendship but didn't know why. Perhaps it was because conversation with females went beyond sport, beer, politics, work, headline news events, oh and sex scandals. He could put his finger on the difference: guys would ask where did he work and leave it at that whereas females would ask that did he do there and how did the bureau service work. Perhaps being trained as a journalist he was becoming focused on asking in-depth questions and engaging in in-depth analysis.

Well to find such a female. He assumed all the good ones were already with a guy. He'd been going to parties but for some reason he attracted the married women. It wasn't fair.

The bureau chief took Harry and two other fairly recent recruits to the press gallery to see how it operated and to meet some of the journalist. The bureau distributed a heavy flow of stories from the gallery of parliamentary proceedings and clashes between politicians plus human interest interviews of politicians and their wives or partners and of VIPs or interesting visitors journalists found visiting Parliament. Although individual newspapers employed the journalists, those stories earned bureau credits for their newspapers. The journalists would send fuller versions of those stories to their newspaper by teleprinter.

The journalists mostly greeted them warmly and Harry recognized their names from by-lines on copy flowing into the bureau. His comment that it was good to put a face to a name went down well. In the Auckland Star office occupied by two senior reporters and a J2 female, Harry and the other two journalists from the bureau were introduced to the two guys. After meeting them he walked over to the female and said, "Hi Claire."

"You know me?" she said in surprise.

"Read the small article about your appointment as female appointments to the gallery are rare. I was interested to see your dad had skippered crews in two international yacht racing circuits in Europe and you have sailed dinghies since you were six."

"Omigod you actually read the article and remember it and recognized me from my photo."

"Well we are supposed to be trained observers aren't we?"

She smiled and said thanks for that chat as the bureau chief called they were ready to move on.

A week later Harry took a call.

"Hi Harry, it's Claire Rundle. You might not remember me..."

"Five eight, long black hair, hazel eyes, a fuller figure, oldest child of Tony and Kay Rundle."

"Omigod."

"That's about the only way I can try to impress people Claire so don't get too carried away."

"You'll be busy and so I won't keep you. I have two tickets to a performance of famous opera excerpts being presented by a touring company from Boston here in Wellington on Saturday night and was wondering if you'd like to accompany me. I've only been in Wellington three weeks and appear to only know beer-swilling guys and..."

"I'd be delighted."

"Oh excellent. And so you are an opera fan?"

"Not really but ever since I can remember my mother puts on opera and turns up the volume. The music is very impressive and the singers have tremendous range and can really drip with emotion."

"Oooh you sound like an opera fan in the making."

They arranged to meet for early dinner before the show. He arranged to leave work early on Saturday in return for starting early.

Harry's mom had sent the suit delivered from the tailors although Harry couldn't recall ordering it although it had been his intention to do so before his carnal disgrace. He'd assumed Mrs Wiseman would have got to the tailor's and asked for her money back. He'd not worn it but going to the opera sounded just the right occasion. He was pleased Claire hadn't told him what to wear because he didn't like women telling him what to do.

Claire arrived at the restaurant looking swell. Her hair was in folds and pinned up high and she wore a long white satin dress with stuff around the waist and her earrings drooped and long way down. Harry thought she looked a real honey.

They said hello and Harry stared. Claire asked nervously, "What?"

"You have lovely tits I mean breasts."

She colored and looked greatly embarrassed and so he said, "Claire from me that's an immense compliment."

"Okay I accept that. It's just that the comment caught me on the hop. We don't know each other."

"Yeah well there's no reason to delay the immersion is there?"

They were lead to their table and both ordered wine.

"Immersion?"

Harry came straight out with it. "Friendship, companionship and sex."

She swallowed nervously. "Harry I have a boyfriend in Auckland."

"Yeah well I'd expected that as you are well-packaged, top shelf I'd say."

That pleased her and she became less defensive and said, "You have appeal also but I'm struggling to get used to your direct manner. Was it a result of that shooting?"

"What shooting?" he said without thinking.

"I had one of our newspaper's assistant librarians in Auckland search the reference files on you and she send me a file that included that huge story when that guy killed that woman, wounded two others in the Penny Arcade and almost killed your photographer and then would have killed you but fortunately for you he had run out of bullets. You'd grabbed your fallen photographer's camera, rushed around taking photos and then seeing your photographer being placed in an ambulance you raced back to your newspaper to begin dictating the story. That was an amazing performance and you were so brave. What I was thinking was you might now possess a direct approach to life after looking down the barrel of that revolver and thinking you your life was over."

"Well you might not be too far amiss with that theory."

"Oh Elaine said in her note that Jack Reynolds joined our newspaper as a photographer three weeks ago."

"Gee that's great news. Good for Jack. He's a very likeable guy."

"And so are you Harry, very likeable but mom would have a fit if she knew you called them tits."

"Er sorry. And you?"

"Claire screwed up her nose thinking. "Well I guess if it were you and no one could hear you I wouldn't mind you calling them that name."

"Use the word."

"No."

"Come on Claire, the sky won't fall in."

She took a deep breath and whispered tits. "Are you attempting to corrupt me?"

"Yes."

She giggled and didn't appear concerned.




Harry Pt. 02



They loved the show and she drove Harry home in her brother's car. He worked in Wellington in the head office of Shell Oil.

"Do you wish to come in?"

"No thanks Harry. Our relationship hasn't paved the way to get that far yet."

"Fair enough," he said. "So we have entered a relationship?"

He couldn't see in the dark but guessed she had colored and she said it would appear so.

"May I fondle them?"

"Yes but let me drop down the front of my dress. It marks so easily."

The bra was fairly stiff so he asked, "Undo your bra."

"Not this time Harry."

"How can I bite them through your bra?"

"God Harry ease off."

"I recall that article said you had a degree and were twenty-two Are you a virgin?"

"No and I'm sure you aren't either judging by your carnivorous comments."

They laughed easily and the kiss was deep and accomplished with mutual emotion.

"Omigod," she said. "Am I going to be a girl with romances in two cities?"

"It appears so," Harry said, kissing her goodnight.

Harry never got to see those breasts. Claire arranged to have lunch with him next day and said she'd decided to remain true to her boyfriend.

"The truth is Harry I'm rather the quiet type. You have so much energy and get rather intense at times that it, well, it frightens me a little."

"I wouldn't want to frighten you Claire."

"Thank you for saying that."

Harry thought well they didn't have to have sex. Masturbation was an option.

"What about this Claire. Can we continue on being friends who don't have sex, um although we kiss?"

"But not tongue down the throat kissing?"

"Well... well yes, I'm agreeable to that. Let's try it and see how it works out. As you know I have the restraints on my life of university studies and then working mid afternoon to late so perhaps it's just as well I'm not screwing you stupid."

"Harry!"

"Ooops sorry, I meant to just think that last bit."

To the surprise of them both, that formal change to their relationship didn't lead to a gradual dissolution of their friendship.

Claire often received invitation to weekend functions and she'd call Harry and he'd partner her.

Harry had purchased a two-year-old Volkswagen Beetle and occasionally Claire borrowed that and that was an indication of how friendly they were.

On Saturdays she'd arrive at Harry's room around 9:00 and stay until 4:00 or 5:00 and do his washing and take his pants and jackets to the nearby 'same day' drycleaners and collect them just before closing. They'd go out for a leisurely lunch. 

During the rest of the time she'd assist Harry with his studies, she having gained her BA and simultaneously a diploma in political studies. In comparison Harry was an academic plodder but Claire lifted his interest and motivated him to improve his study performance. Harry would resume study on Sunday mornings and then pick up Claire for late lunch and they'd find things to do while out and about. Harry's view was the sequence of his week meant Sunday afternoons would have been prime time for sex but he respected Claire's wish to maintain a platonic relationship.

A 30-year old married doctor from Whanganui moved into the rooming house for six months while she completed an advanced medical course and she and Harry sometimes were out on the terrace together on weekday mornings (she went home at weekends), both arriving with coffee to sit in the sun and listen to the birds in the trees.

On morning Kathy said, "Would you like to come to my room for a drink occasionally?"

Harry said bravely, "And?"

She wasn't flustered. "I was attempting not to push too fast. My motive is sex."

"I think that would be a great idea."

It wasn't great sex because Kathy liked it slow and soft without sweat and she practically had no tits. But Harry liked getting away in a pussy and she would sigh into her release and clutch him gratefully as her mild ardor faded. She'd then jerk him off after learning he preferred to ejaculate more than once.

Jo-May still visited Harry once a month when she was at the peak of her productive cycle. She's arrived at 7:30 on weekday mornings (her husband left for work at 7:00) and return for a repeat session the following morning. He looked forward to her visits because she still wanted full-on sex and she was smart enough not to remind Harry he was just being used as a semen donor.

Harry had no idea if Jo-May also used another guy or perhaps more as semen donors and one day when she phoned to say she wouldn't need to visit him any more because she was pregnant. He didn't have the heart to ask if he were the father. For all he knew she might be kidding herself her husband was the father and he had this funny feeling he would team up with Amy again one day. It was no used trying to rationalize that possibility because that would give him an answer he wouldn't want to contemplate.

Eighteen months rolled by and things happened all at once for Harry, as they sometimes do.

At the office he was promoted to senior grading when the senior in charge of the late shift left and Harry was his replacement. That gave his professional confidence a bit boost. Then Claire was recalled to her Auckland base.

They had early dinner and Harry then took Claire to the airport for her flight to Auckland. It was like seeing off a sister. She cried and hugged him and said she'd invite him to the wedding.

He mumbled thanks and when leaving the airport he wondered why she would invite him to her wedding. Then he worked it out: she'd considered they'd been best buddies.

The third thing that happened was momentous, almost bigger that the sinking of the passenger ferry Waihine in Wellington Harbor entrance in April during a wild storm and with the loss of fifty lives. It could have been much worse. That had been a huge day for the bureau.

No it was a call from Jo-May inviting Harry to dinner on Saturday night.

He almost didn't go thinking she wanted to announce to husband Russell that Harry was the father of her child. Then he thought no she would have to be insane to do it like that. Perhaps she'd told him gently and now they wanted to thank him. Yeah that was it. Russell would be thinking hey guy you fucked my wife and got her pregnant. Thanks.

Even so, he climbed with the feeling of trepidation up the thirty-five steps (the small notice stated 35 steps) up to the house perched on a curvaceous hillside along with perhaps 150 others.

He knocked.

Russell opened the door.

"Good evening Harry, I'm Russell. We met once in Rutherford. Please come in," he said taking the offered bottle and saying, "Oh man, this is a top drop."

"Yeah, I work near Parliament and there's a couple of quality wine shops in that neighborhood."

"Jo-May is fetching Tommy. He's not been asleep and so should be fine."

A woman entered the dimly lit room.

Russell said, "You remember my sister Amy?"

Bang. The shock was almost like being shot, er well Harry knew what he meant. God she had filled out and looked gorgeous.

"Good evening Harry."

"It's lovely seeing you again," he murmured.

"Don't I get a kiss?"

"What you want me to kiss you?"

"Of course if you are up to it. Harry you were just a naughty boy that's all. You let me down badly but I was over it quickly. I found out daddy had you dismissed and I berated him for that and when mom said she'd been in to reclaim the money she'd deposited with the tailor's for a suit for you I had her take it back and order the suit. You'd told me you had been measured up for it. Mom was left to choose the material. Have you worn it?"

"Yes. The first time was when I took a female journalist to the opera."

"Oooh you must have looked really dashing. Have you forgotten how to kiss?"

Harry went to Amy and kissed her tentatively. But she pulled him to her firmly and he put everything into it.

"God you remain the best kisser I know," she said, panting slightly.

Joy-May joined them. "Oh I see you two have made up. Amy will sleep with you here or at your place tonight Harry."

Harry looked at Amy and said Amy?"

She looked at him and read his expression or perhaps saw his tongue practically hanging out.

"Oh god," she said and giggled.

Jo-May came closer and said, "Harry this is Johnny."

Harry looked at the kid and saw he had his curly hair and looked a lot like him.

"Initially I thought he looked a lot like dad and Uncle Ruben in that photo we have a home of those two when they were small kids," Jo-May said but he's changing and Russell's mom says he's beginning to look more like Russell each time she sees him but says he has my hair."

Harry thought that was all bullshit. The kid looked like him.

"Here Harry, hold Johnny."

"Er no I might drop him."

Jo-May looked horrified and stepped back with Johnny and said, "His father has dropped him twice but managed to break the falls."

"I'm into the hang of it now," Russell said smiling and rubbing his hands asked what everyone wanted to drink.

As the sisters were talking Harry took a good look at Amy. She appeared taller, her breasts were bigger and looked almost as prominent and as well shaped as her sister's and she was becoming very attractive. Her mouth appeared wider, giving better balance to her face. She would turn twenty in a couple of months.

"Amy is here for an interview for a reporting job on the Dominion," Jo-May said. "She was interviewed this morning and was one of three recalled for interviews this afternoon. She will be contacted either way in the morning."

"That sound a good opening for you if it's general reporting."

"It is. No way will I go into the women's department or court reporting."

"Why couldn't the interviewing panel make the choice this afternoon?"

"I assume they wish to sleep on it and reconvene in the morning."

"Hold Tommy Amy while I go and help Russell with the drinks and check the roast."

When Jo-May left Harry said, "Come and stay with me tonight."

Amy said, "Isn't this rushing it?"

"Yes."

She giggled and said he hadn't changed. "It's been almost two years since that awful night. Um I'm no longer a virgin but have no regular boyfriend."

"Well you decide. When do you return?"

"I drive home sometime tomorrow afternoon."

"Well I won't attempt to pressure you. I'll accept a no. You need to make the decision that's right for you."

The others arrived with the drinks.

Later in the evening when Harry cleared the dinner plates from the table and found Jo-May out in the kitchen alone because Russell had gone through to check on Tommy. He decided to confront Jo-May.

"I have to ask you about Tommy," he whispered.

She looked him in the eye and said, "Well you are not the father if that's what you're thinking. Russell managed to come up with a lucky shot and he's the father. You can see Tommy doesn't look at all like you."

And that was the end of that. 

Later that evening when Amy was doing a strip tease in Harry's room she asked, "Have you had sex with my sister since you've been here?"

"Yeah for a while when I first arrived and knew no one. I went into a bank to open an account and lo, she was the new accounts officer."

"Yes she told me how she'd met you."

"But then I met people and made friends and Jo-May and I drifted apart."

"Then you are not Tommy's father?"

"I think that's unlikely, what with a pregnancy term being around thirty-eight weeks. Why don't you ask Jo-May who the father was?"

"I have and she said Russell came up with a lucky shot."

"Do you think Tommy looks like me?"

"I can't say that he does."

And that was that. Harry had no way of knowing whether she was being honest with her final comment.

"You tits have developed and look great."

"Why thank you sir," she smiled, looking and sounding relaxed.

She tossed him a packet of condoms.

"Thanks I have some or do you prefer this brand?"

"I'm easy. I'm on the pill as well. They are in case... well you know."

That rather shook Harry. Fancy Amy taking it up the butt and she wasn't yet twenty.

When she finished her strip he got up and clapped and undressed. She looked at his erection and gasped, "God that's not going up my butt."

He wondered if she'd been dating boys.

Harry licked her until she was writhing crazily and yelling for him to put it in. It slipped in without significant difficulty and then he went at it softly and smoothly.

"Harry don't be offended but I'd like you to go at it harder and talk dirty to me."

Huh? "Oh thanks for the coaching baby. I didn't have any idea of how you like it."

She pulled his hand on to a tit and cooed, "Bite it Harry, gently now. You know when I recovered from the shock of your insulting behavior I never stopped thinking about you and in bed whenever I fingered myself I'd think of you doing this to me, and only you. Never any other guy who dated me."

Those words activated Harry. He gripped Amy by the shoulders and pulled her tight each time he thrust forward and said, "I've constantly dreamed of fucking you legless you cunt-sucking bitch."

"Omigod Harry," she yelled and her faced turned the color of beetroot and she convulsed into a succession of releases and he could feel the leakage dripping over his balls.

"Finished," she panted. "Oh that was glorious."

"Well get ready for more you tight-cunt little whore. Here comes Torpedo Charlie attempting to burst into your stomach and fill it with... fill it with..."

"Spunk, thick gooey spunk you cry baby motherfucker who won't give a slut what she wants."

Huh?

Harry banged on wondering where the hell had she learned to talk like that. What did she want?

Amy, who'd left before dawn leaving Harry asleep, called him later to say she hadn't won the job, the opinion being she was too young.

He said kindly, "You never know if that's the reason or there's something else."

"Yes but does it doesn't matter. Would you like to meet us at the Albion Restaurant just down by you at 11:30 and I'll depart for home from there."

"Okay but I'll sorry you didn't make it this time. Keep trying."

They both chose a mixed grill and only drank grape juice.

They chatted easily and Harry asked, "Have your parents ever mentioned me?"

"I phoned them earlier to tell them I'd failed to win the position and mom said they thought I would have been in contact with you. Mom said she'd rather you had sex with me than you quote, sniffing after Jo-May again, unquote."

"God the mayoress sounds to have become worldly."

"Mum always has been a practical thinker."

"What else did she say?"

"No I don't with to repeat it."

"Come on Amy, you can't fuck me and then close up on me."

"Well you've asked for it. She said she welcome you as a son, that actually you are quite okay and would make a wonderful father."

"Well that's nice. I might marry you when you butt grows wide enough with maturity to take me up it."

"Gee what a great husband you'd make thinking like that. No thanks but you'll be okay to fuck for the next couple of years I suppose if we meet again and about then I'll begin to look around for a guy who'll suit me long term."

"What will he be like?" Harry smiled as he slid his shoe up between Amy's legs, moving slowly to try to avoid snagging her stockings.

She allowed his foot to pass her knees and then snapped her thighs together, trapping his foot.

"Well he won't be at all like you," she giggled. "God you are over-sexed. I bet if I weren't heading off you'd want to be at me again."

Harry just grinned.

On Friday three weeks later Harry was walking from the Cable Car and heading to work along Lampton Quay, one of the main shopping and business streets in Wellington, when a warn almost fruity female voice called, "Oh goodness, it's you Harry."

The voice sounded a little familiar. He looked to his right and saw an older version of Amy and realized he was looking at her mother.

"Oh hi Mrs Wiseman. It's lovely to see you again. God you've lost weight and are all dolled up. You look terrific."

"Why thank you Harry," she said, eyeing him closer as he walked to her. She said to call her Jocelyn.

"You even smell a million dollars," he said, sniffing just below an ear.

"It's a sample of a French perfume I tried and purchased. All your compliments are making me feel flirty Harry?"

"Sorry. It's obvious becoming mayoress has given you a boost in life."

"Don't be sorry darling," she said, stroking a hand down the side of his face gently. "I rather enjoy compliments."

"You've knocked ten years off your body," Harry enthused. "Your teenager curves are back."

"That's going overboard Harry," she giggled, "But it's a gross exaggeration I can accept. I'm down here to see how my grandson is progressing, oh of course and his parents."

"Oh they will welcome that. I had dinner with them and saw the wee chap. They all were very happy."

"I'm only down for the weekend. Perhaps we could meet."

"So is the hatchet buried?"

"Well and truly darling. I can understand you going for the sexy sister when she was on heat."

"Um well that's good," Harry said rather surprised Jocelyn would speak so frankly.

"Well?"

"I have to be at university till at least 3:00 and then I work till midnight and that only leaves weekends for study time and exams are coming up. But I could manage coffee tomorrow at a time to suit you."

Jocelyn opened her handbag and pulled out a small notebook and slid the pencil from the holder. "Give me your address and I'll bring lunch tomorrow. Joy-May and friend are going to a christening of one of her girlfriend's baby and they will go to lunch after that."

"What an excellent idea. I usually eat while I study or write but a break will be most welcome."

"Great. I look forward to chatting leisurely."

They separated and Harry thought what a thoroughly nice woman. Her warmness made him think it was about time he went home on a visit. Perhaps he'd go as soon as exams were over.

Jocelyn arrived just before 1:00 with food and a bottle of German Riesling. He hair was clipped back, her cheeks were flushed and although she was almost fifty Harry could help thinking she looked sexy. The top two buttons of her front-buttoned dress were open and because the dress was relatively low-cut a fair amount of cleavage was on display.

Harry licked his lips and was shocked to find her staring at him although still pulling items out of the shopping bag.

"I'll get wine glasses," he muttered and she said "Thanks darling" in a honeyed voice. God was she coming on to him? What was it with women in the Wiseman family?

Harry then decided such thinking was stupid. She'd know he was half her age.

"You haven't kissed me yet," she said, handing him the bottle to uncork.

"Oh sorry."

"And I don't mean just a peck on the cheek young man."

So Harry went in keenly, ignoring the offered bottle. He swung his left arm around her back, placed a wide-open hand over her left breast and kissed her on the lips sweetly and felt her mouth open.

They separated, breathing a little heavily.

He said, "I hope that wasn't too much over the top?"

"No it was fine. Uncork the wine Harry."

Huh? Oh yes. He was aware his cock was at half-mast.

Jesus.

As he opened the bottle Harry wondered if he'd really like to fuck a woman as old as Jocelyn. His cock thought so and hardened and he walked back to her knowing if she decided to look there she'd notice the boner. She certainly had a secret smile when he arrived at the table in the very small room.

"Why have you developed an erection Harry?"

That caught him unexpectedly but he didn't drop the bottle. His face wore the color of deep embarrassment and he didn't care for her domination.

"I breathed in your perfume and was thinking about your tits. I guess an erection arise out of such thinking."




Harry Pt. 02



"God I was expecting you to duck for cover."

"I'd thought about it," he grinned, he hoped boyishly, and noticed her gaze was on his smile.

He poured the wine and handed her a glass and their clinked glasses and said, "Cheers."

"I'm sad it's raining otherwise we could have lunched in the garden."

She smiled and said, "It's fine in here although a little warm."

"Then remove your dress."

She looked slightly rattled, he thought. But after a slight delay she said, "Do you really mean that?"

"Only if it means you being more comfortable. The wind is sweeping the rain against the windows of this room so I can't open them."

"Very well then. Would you like to remove my dress and that will tell me you really approve of such behavior."

"You make take my word for it that I approve."

"Don't be a spoilsport darling."

He began unbuttoning the dress tentatively.

"I'm surprised we are doing this."

Pushing a hand through his thick thatch of hair she said, "I am too. I had thought about it but really didn't come here expecting to be seduced."

"Will that happen?"

She smiled and said yes and she was very pleased because she wasn't getting much sex these days and that was rather a shame.

He removed the dress and she eyed him fearlessly. "I hope I don't took too bad for a 48-year old."

"You look great."

"Thanks for not saying great for my age. You are expected to think it of course."

"Just relax Jocelyn. I believe older women deserved to be fucked by younger guys. Someone has to teach young guys some of the finer points. You may guide me."

"I'd like it up the butt Harry. I'm a virgin in that department."

Rather than reply, Harry picked up their glasses and went to the sofa, she following, dressed in a white lace bra with silk inserts, a similar style suspender belt and white panties and the stockings where darker blue than the blue patterned dress Harry had just removed.

They sipped wine, put down their glass and kissed long and with growing intensity.

As for the sex, it was a little disappointing, leaving Harry thinking both her daughters fucked much better because they really got into it. Twice Jocelyn asked him to slow down and three times he was told to be a little less vigorous. So they went at it like two people on a rowboat going downstream. The butt fuck didn't progress far because she yelled he was impossibly big and was hurting her. However when he was fingering the anus to work it wider he had her scream into her third climax and that really was something to watch because she gushed over her fingers. Harry learned only then she'd been fingering while he was attempting to re-engineer the other opening.

They ate totally nude, both feeling very comfortable about that and then went at it a couple of more times at the languid pace she appeared to prefer. The last one had been doggy and she was apprehensive about that saying neither of them would be in great contact and that meant their emotions would not be unleashed. With her tits being squeezed she got off into an impressive release and as she left, kissing him, Jocelyn said, "If we ever have sex again please remember I like doggy." 

Had it been a waste of time?

No Harry decided. She was not sexually in tune with him as a sex partner but she'd kissed well and loved having her tits receive plenty of attention and had even told him to squeeze them harder when she'd been about to come. The only negatives were she didn't like being pounded and she didn't put a lot of energy into fucking. He was satisfied she'd enjoyed their time-out for sex and had left tired and very happy.

Harry had given her his phone number in case she visited Wellington again. Jocelyn called him that night and said, "I still feel as if your cock is in me. I really enjoyed the attention you gave to me and never in my life have I had so many climaxes in a sex session. I love it and you're a lovely man. Please Harry look us up when you visit Rutherford."

The following week a fellow university student who lived in Wellington asked if Harry would escort her to a dinner dance with some of her friends and he agreed. Brenda was a little dull as a companion and wasn't pretty and was a bit overweight but oh boy, as he soon found out, she became wild in bed and only got off if she were pounded and half crushed.

Harry decided he had no need to look for anyone else.

When his exams finished he went home to Rutherford, taking three days of his annual leave from work and his family were really pleased to see him and his mother said they regretted not having been to Wellington to enjoy his environment and catch up. She didn't say why they hadn't visited and Harry didn't ask. He learned that Mayor Wiseman and wife Jocelyn were in Melbourne, Australia, at an international local government convention. 

* * *

Recently widowed Harry yawned and listened and yes, it was someone knocking. He'd not unlocked the door that day.

"Good morning Harry although it's right on lunchtime."

"Yes it is, his Faye."

Faye was the mother of one of his older daughter's friends.

"Lynette was around last night as Susan was home for a couple of nights. She said she'd called you a couple of times and you appeared to be bright but said you were boxing along on your own. Pete's at work and your daughter and my Susan have gone out for lunch. I have some casserole over from last night so brought it to share with you."

"That is very generous of you Faye."

"A couple of red wines would wash it down nicely."

"Oh yes, I'll fetch a bottle of Shiraz."

Later as they were at the kitchen bench washing and drying the few dishes Faye said, "Are you sensitive or may I speak frankly Harry," asked the 60-year old. "We used to talk frankly when we were together in our late teens."

"Yeah shoot, I'm almost back to my normal self but have been mired in reflection."

"That's understandable. Look with Amy being so sick in the month to her passing on, you can't have had sex?"

"Actually it's been closer to three months."

"I'm available if you want me Harry?"

"What right now?"

"Yes or in a week's time or in a month. It's your choice and you can also reject the offer without me fussing."

"Well I haven't really thought about it."

"But you like the thought?"

"Yes Faye but just a straight fuck, none of the lovey-dovey stuff. It's too early, far too early for me to release emotions like that."

"Understood so let's do it. It will help get you refocused on living. I only take it in the vagina these days Harry."

He grinned and said he understood. "Okay get your panties off and bend over the sofa."

It was over inside ten minutes but Faye came with lunch weekdays every day for more than a month and before long Harry was back riding well in the saddle and Faye would be pounded for an hour or more and would leave complaining that her body couldn't take much more of this. But she'd return the next day.

Harry's older daughter Lynette called one afternoon with a prepared roast dinner and filled up the cookie tins. She stayed for dinner with him and when they were in the lounge said, "Dad do you want me to help give you sexual relief. I'm willing to jerk your off and even suck but that's the limit."

"No it's fine," he smiled, pleased she'd made the offer. Obviously she had no knowledge that Susan's mother was providing him with more than enough sex.

"Well you are looking well dad. You won't have seen much of Anita because she's been so busy and I've been helping her. She's dumped that lazy lawyer and was on the phone last night for two hours with Steve Young, one of her old boy friends. She called this morning to say she's moving in with him."

"Steve who? Oh yes, what a surprise."

"Dad you fucking liar. Anita told me you told her to dump the asshole she's living with and try to link with Steve again."

"Oh did I? My mind must be in neutral. Are you sure your are supposed to call your father a fucking liar?"

"Oh sorry."

"Your punishment is to strip off and finger yourself and I'll jerk off. I haven't seen your body since you were about eighteen."

"God dad, as mom always said, you are over-sexed," Lynette said, reaching to unzip the back of her dress.

After she left Harry, guilt-free, went back to thinking about his past.

* * *

With only thirty-three days before the start of Harry's final exams, Amy called him just before 9:00 to say she'd received a call from the chief of staff on the Evening Post in Wellington.

Amy had visited Harry every couple of months or so to keep in touch and usually stayed at least one night with him.

"The Post has a reporting vacancy and the chief of staff was told by someone on his staff that I'd tried unsuccessfully to land a job in Wellington. The informant would have been a senior female reporter I'd knocked around with when we covered a three-day dairy industry seminar in Hamilton. I said yes and I start in four weeks. Do you want to look for a shared flat for just the two of us?"

"I suppose I could but what would we do, all that time together?"

"God you'd never make it as a comedian. You finish your degree very soon don't you?"

"Yes."

"And then what?"

"I will look for a newspaper job."

"Then try the Post and we can remain together and work similar hours."

"That's a great idea. I'm known to most of them on the Post, particularly by their news editor Peter Vaughan through drinking with Wellington jurnos on Friday nights. Peter could open a door for me."

Two weeks later Harry had found a sunny although dingy flat now far from where he lived but at least it was roomy. He called Amy and she said it was in a great location and sounded in pretty typical condition for a Wellington flat.

"Sign up for three months and by then we might find something better. We also might find we are not compatible long-term."

"Oh yeah, that's you dreaming. We are well-suited."

"Actually I think we are too. You better watch out, I might marry you."

He laughed and said she'd be lucky and the quiet reply, "Yes I think I would be" made Harry think.

Two days later he went for an interview at the Evening Post, expecting to be offered a reporting position. The interview by the editor and chief sub-editor continued for almost an hour and before too long Harry knew it wasn't a reporting job they had in mind. Editorial writer? Features writer?

Harry walked out having accepted the position of features editor and was rather excited about that because it was his first specific title in newspaper journalism and placed him on a salary, almost double what he was being paid at the bureau. Further he was told there would be a salary and grading review after three months in the position. He'd have his own office but no reporting staff, just a clerical assistant. He was in charge of all the feature pages that covered backgrounders, special investigations, unsolicited contributed articles, women's pages, features from agencies supplied on subscription, motoring and almost anything else that wasn't considered 'news' or advertising.

He called Amy and she was hugely excited and wished she could jump into a car and come to him and they could party and then have wild sex until they dropped but alas it was almost 5:00 and she had two important assignments to cover next day.

Amy really was his kind of girl, Harry thought and called a hospital nurse he dated occasionally. She was three years his junior.

Helen Marshall giggled at the invitation but was hesitant. "Go drinking and then wild sex? Harry this is a bit sudden and remember I haven't quite rolled over for you yet."

"I've won a new job and need to celebrate," he cajoled.

"Well I am on two days' leave. Drinks and dinner would be fine and if you promise to wear a condom I guess I can engage in the other."

Good sweet Helen, he decided after the call ended. She was from a conservative farming family and had the guy picked out at home she intended to marry. She really was a good sort and he must buy her a decent present. Oh shit, he was scheduled to work as it was Friday night.

Harry called the bureau chief.

"Stan I'll be straight with you. I was thinking of calling in sick because I wish to go celebrating tonight. I've just been appointed features editor at the Post, replacing the poorly performing acting editor who is returning to general subbing. But I though Stan has been upfront and kind to me all the way through and..."

"Hold it Harry. I understand. I'd be highly excited too at your age getting that position. Charlie has asked for extra hours so I'll ask him to cover for you. You have a good night and don't forget to resign on Monday. You have my warmest congratulations. Many people who have worked here have go on to accomplished bigger things."

"That's mighty kind of you Stan and thanks."

Helen came out of the nurse's hostel beautifully dressed in a white knee-length dress, boots and a black Bolero jacket and her hair in a ponytail.

Harry had the great desire to hump right as soon as she got into the car. To date he'd only managed to finger Helen, surprisingly in each orifice. Clearly being conservative didn't mean she was also timid. She'd sucked him once but he'd lost concentration and blew into her mouth. She spat out semen and told him, "That's it; never again."

They had a corner table in the restaurant and Harry knew that meant no one could walk up behind them and catch them by surprise. After consuming a couple of drinks Helen found it quite acceptable for Harry to thrust a paw under the tablecloth and run it up between her thighs, fingers twitching to get wet. He almost ejaculated in surprise to find Miss Conservative wasn't wearing panties.

"Surprised?" she asked, her hazel eyes appearing bright and large.

"Yeah did you forget?"

She laughed and pushed her groin against his fingers and rode up and down slightly.

"Omigod that's s-o-o-o good," she sighed, as Harry turned his fingers over and pushed them in deep reaching for the spot, a technique that Jo-May had taught him.

Helen's cheeks puffed up, her coloring change to red and she streamed all over Harry's hand.

"Gee-whiz that's better than I can do it," she confessed to her companion who'd until then had no idea that Miss Conservative masturbated. Obviously he still had things to learn about women.

Later on the bed Helen said, "Work that thing into my anus."

"I-I'll be too big."

"I don't think so. You ought to see the size some of the dildos fellow nurses push up me in the early hours when we are on night duty and everything in the ward is quiet."

Harry repeated an earlier thought: there were still things to learn about women.

Helen produced condoms and lube and provided some useful instructions and comments. Although she said it was the first time she was having a real penis push into her like he was doing, she seemed to know more about the act that he did.

"It's wrong for you to think you are too big for most women Harry," she said. "You will be too big for a minority, yes, and for the vagina as well. But you really should think you'll pleasure most women if you work the opening properly, get her really relaxed, take everything slow with plenty of comforting dialogue because she needs to hear a confident and sympathetic tone in your voice, that you sound as if you know what you're doing and than you open her up wide and splash lube everything and push in very slowly and stay in tune with her. If you really wish to know the experience from the female's perspective, get a date to wear a strap-on and push up your butt."

Harry almost vomited in horror.

Well yes, he thought, that sure was giving a guy a different perspective.

Thereafter, at Helen's request at first, they met twice a week for sex. She knew that Harry's girl would soon be living with him and the night before Amy arrived Helen drew Harry into several hours of unrestrained lust.

"Thanks for grooming me to allow me to give my boyfriend the kind of work-out he's entitled to receive," Helen said, kissing him goodbye.

Everything worked out well for Harry.

Helen was conveniently out of his life, Jo-May hadn't come looking for sex from him and nor had her mother and, thank goodness and, ha-ha, neither had her father. He'd completed his exams and had three days between jobs and that allowed him to paint the entire interior of the new flat and so it was looking pretty good when Amy arrived.

He'd also had three days working as features editor and so had escaped that busy and demanding time coinciding with the arrival of his girlfriend from Rutherford. Well if he were about to start living with Amy he felt entitled to think of her as his girlfriend. It wasn't as if a guy should call every female he fucked his girlfriend. He'd fucked Joy-May and her mother and would never think of them as being a girlfriend in the romantic sense. Those two had just been someone to fuck although he had to concede both had given him significant pleasure. He couldn't think of an acceptable and descriptive name to give them. In all probability the name their husband's would bestow would be unfaithful bitches.

It didn't seem fair such names appeared to censure females more harshly than males. For instance men who played the field weren't called whores so what were they? Good guys who were expected to fuck if they felt the need? Oh yeah? It was a wonder women hadn't come up with a distinctive and universal name for males who acted like whores.

Harry had been invited to lunch at Joy-May and Russell's home and to await Amy's arrival.

Joy-May answered the door and stared at him and gasped, "You have slimmed down and are looking better than ever."

"You're not too bad yourself," he said without lying and she kissed him, taking the opportunity to sticking her tongue into her mouth. He did the descent thing and sucked it and she broke away looked pleased.

"I'm got my figure back... I've had a baby girl since I last saw you."

What? He hadn't been near her.

A little kid ran out, looked at the visitor shyly and got half behind her. Harry was tremendously relieved to see the youngster didn't really look like him.

"Hi Johnny."

The kid hung his head as if ashamed of the name but Jo-May looked impressed.

"You've remembered our son's name."

"Of course. I tend to remember names. You husband's name is Russell."

"And you only met him once, no twice. I'm impressed."

Russell greeted him warmly and offered to help with shifting Amy's things in when they were delivered. He could take time off work."

"Thanks that's a very kind offer but I expect Amy will get the delivery guys to do that," Harry said. 

"Well there will be lots of stuff... you know what women are like."

Harry knew he hadn't known that in that context but the flat was unfurnished. He'd waited till Amy arrived to help choose what suited them. They would eat out in the meantime.

"Amy said you have taken a job at the Post as features editor," Jo-May said. "She says that was a big promotion?"

"Yes a bit of a jump up but I won't see much of her at work because she'll be in the newsroom while I have my own office."

"With staff?" Russell asked, handing Harry a beer.

"No just a clerical assistant to deal with all the incoming stuff and sort it for me."

"It can't be such an important job if you have no team of journalists."

"It's the responsibilities rather than the manpower that makes the job important," Harry explained. "All feature pages in the newspaper come under my control."

Jo-May said, "Omigod that's half of the total content of the newspaper." 

"No about a quarter to a third of editorial pages," Harry said truthfully. "But I choose and quickly check everything and decide where it goes in the features section contained in the 'book' of blank pages of that issue of the newspaper with adverts placed in it that we call the dummy. I give that material plus the appropriate page or pages from the dummy to the chief sub-editor and he allocates that work to a sub-editor. The proofs of completed pages comes back to me and I cut material if there is an over-flow of text or have that continued on another page or use feature type fillers for any editorial space needed to be filled."




Harry Pt. 02



"That sounds labor intensive," Jo-May said. "You'll be rushed off your feet."

"Many of my pages can be completed well in advance and so as I fall into rhythm through gaining experience everything will become more or less routine. There's an experience sub-editor who acts for me if I'm on leave or become unavailable for any other reason."

"Well, well," Russell said. "I thought stuff was just thrown into the pages and that was virtually?"

Joy-May said she had too. "Oh there's the toot. Amy has arrived. Our parents have given us new VW Beetles. Mine is red and Amy's is green, an indication of the level of our flamboyancy don't you think?"

"It could appear that way," Harry said diplomatically.

"Johnny, come with me to meet Auntie Amy," Harry said, holding out his hand.

The youngster hesitated but when Russell said go on, it's okay, he took Harry's hand and they went out and stood on the front porch, his parents arriving behind them.

Harry didn't know why but he felt almost shy meeting Amy again.

"Hi," he called and she waved, coming up the steps quickly.

They kissed and she said, "Oh I'm so, so glad to be with you again. I've been so excited for days."

"Here's someone who wishes to meet you again," Harry said, holding up Johnny who reached out and Amy took him, slipping her handbag to Harry.

As they walked into the house Amy said, "Where's Hannah?"

Jo-May said, "She went to sleep late this morning because Johnny and I had her out shopping with us. She should be awake. Put Johnny down and go to her."

Harry and Amy settled into their flat and they doted on each other and life was bliss. The sex was great, Amy was a great cook and Harry pulled his weight around the home although he never did anything more than what Amy expected of him. They were really enjoying their jobs and were doing well.

And then came a hiccup to their bliss. Amy learned she was pregnant. That made them think uncertainly about their future but then the assistant editor of the Post retired and Harry was invited to apply for the position and won it. 

Amy was happy because the salary was big enough to mean with the coming of their baby they'd not be scratching for money while she was off work on maternity leave. With Amy happy Harry was happy.

But with ten weeks to go Amy hit complications and was advised to cease work immediately. The chief reporter advised he could not hold her job open for longer than two months and so she accepted she must resign and at that became depressed.

Harry knew she was not thriving living in their flat. It had been great when they were both working but now he realized she felt marooned especially when her newspaper friends began fading away socially.

Slowly Amy adapted to day loneliness thanks to some support from pregnant mothers she met at prenatal classes. And then three weeks before her baby was due her mother called and said Toby Bassett was retiring and was it possible Harry would be interest in the position.

"Oh god yes," Amy said, without thinking whether or not Harry would like returning to a much smaller newspaper. She then burst into tears and sobbed, "Mom I want to come home; I want you to share in the birth and immediate post-birth of my baby."

"Omigod darling, you are still depressed. I understood you were cured. Hold tight, I'll work on the chairman of the newspaper board and will succeed in bringing you both home."

"Oh mom, you are so awesome."

"Darling I don't really take to these new phrases. I prefer you saying I'm so lovely to you."

"Mother you are so lovely to me. Please make it work." 

And work it did.

Once Harry and Amy were settled back in their hometown they married and enjoyed a rewarding life, becoming the parents of two children along the way.

They often marveled how long it had taken them to really get together and the solid marriage lasted until broken by Amy's death.

* * *

Widower Harry Boone, pulling the tab on another can of light-alcohol beer, sighed and wondered where his years as the youngest editor of the Rutherford Times had gone. He'd just arrived home from a combined meeting of the boards of the Rutherford Times and the city's morning newspaper The Telegraph, where he'd be appointed executive editor and to the temporary position of change manager to head and planning and merger of the two newspapers with a morning publication continuing and renamed The Rutherford Telegraph.

The Times was dying due to falling subscriptions and advertising and The Telegraph had gone through four lean years in a row. Both boards of directors had recommended the two companies merge operations and stockholders had accepted that move as being essential for the financial well being of just the one newspaper. Outside business consultants with assistance of financial appraisers were appointed to value the assets of both companies to work out a fair and equitable way for stock in the two companies to valued for the issuing of shares in the new business entity.

The directors had decided the Times newspaper would fold and The Telegraph would operate from the newer offices of the Times and continue to use The Telegraph's presses installed only five years earlier when new printing works were built in a new industrial subdivision. 

Harry was dressed in an old sweater and jeans when a TV news team arrived unannounced to interview him for that night's news.

"I'll talk provided you allow me to change into my suit otherwise it's no comment and no filming."

"You can't stop me filming," said the fat and balding cameraman.

"Lester you turn on that camera and point it at me and see what happens."

They knew each other from the Press Club recently renamed the News Media Club, yet another sign of the times.

"Aw come of Harry that will only get you into a punch-up."

"Fancy your chances do you Lester? Well I'll have a surprise for you."

"Come on boys, cool it," said the female reporter. "Go and get changed Harry but please hurry."

"Get yourself a beer from the fridge Lester and get this babe whatever she wants from the bar."

Harry returned and the women went tut-tut and jerked up his fly and redid his tie.

"You're handy to have around miss."

"Its Mrs Lucas but you can call me Sharon. I married two months ago and have been in Rutherford. I haven't had the opportunity to say hi because everything here is new to me and my job is full on. Mom asked me to look you up."

"Oh yeah. And who is mom?"

"Helen Raymond, former wife of Dr Mark Raymond. You would have known mom as Helen Marshall."

"Jesus Christ," Harry said. "I really had some great times with Nurse Marshall in Wellington, a lovely young woman. Then she returned to the Wairarapa."

"Yes to get married but the guy she'd targeted had found someone else. And then one day the local hospital was short of nurses after an outbreak of 'flu and responding to the call for help from former nurses, mom met the handsome young doctor Mark Raymond. He and mom began dating and he said he was going into a group private practice and would require his own nurse and would mom consider joining him. My older brother and I were the products of that union. Mom and dad divorced three years ago after she found he was playing around."

"Yeah your mom wouldn't have stood for that kind of nonsense. Is she still beautiful?"

"Well I think so. Look we must talk at the club. We must get this interview done now because it's required for tonight's TV news. We were sure you'd refuse to talk, wanting The Telegraph to break the story but I said I would still try to get the story."

"The public has the right to know, time being of the essence darling. It will also wet the appetite of the public to read all about it in The Telegraph."

"Why did you call me darling?"

"Whoops. Well because you must be a lovely young woman to be the daughter of Helen nee Marshall."

Straightening his tie after guiding Harry into position, Sharon giggled and said, "God you're a smoothie for an older guy."

"Think what you like. Just invited me to dinner when your mom visits you guys. I'd like to see her again."

A few days later when Harry was lunching with his daughters in the city he told them about the possibility of meeting an old flame.

"The mother of Sharon Lucas?" Anita said. "I see Sharon most week nights on TV news. She's a real goer."

Harry pulled out an old photograph from his inside jacket pocket. "This is what her mom looked like about the same age."

"Omigod dad, she's beautiful and looked as if she would have been too classy for you," Lynette said. "I bet she married well."

"You cheeky bitch. Actually she married a doctor but is now divorced."

"Omigod dad, am I looking at my new stepmother?"

Lynette and Harry looked at Anita with different reactions.

"Don't be so disgusting Anita, dad doesn't need to marry. He's always dating women."

"I asked Sharon Lucas to call me when her mom visits her."

Harry's daughters looked at their father, mouths open.

"Well dad that's a good idea," Lynette said.

"Yes dad, meet her. Wear your best suit and take chocolates and flowers."

"It will only be a reunion and then she'll be gone home until her next infrequent visit."

"Yeah," Lynette nodded but Anita said, "Omigod, Sharon's mother will now have another reason for coming to live here dad... you."

Lynette shook her head and said, "You are such a romantic Anita. You ought to be writing romance paperbacks."

Three weeks later Harry was drinking at the News Media Club at 7:00 when Sharon came in. He waved and she came straight over.

"May I buy you a drink?"

"Sure Mr Boone. A gin and tonic thanks, no ice."

When Harry returned with the drink Sharon thanked him and he told her to call her Harry. "It's rare for anyone to address me as Mr Boone. I don't go for formality."

"Very well Harry but I still think mister is an appropriate form of address for a young journalist speaking to the doyen of the news media in this city."

"Who fed you that crap?"

"My editor, Alison Crowe."

"Oh well it's unusual for Allie to be wrong about anything. She'd a fine operator sweetheart. Model yourself on here to learn the basics and you won't go wrong. I nominated her the year she won her gong as the Best Provincial TV News Editor."

"Yes she told me. I've dropped in to tell you mom arrives Friday. Cliff and I would like you to have dinner with us on Friday evening. Um Cliff will serve wine but he's the son of a clergyman and is a bit up tight about people who drink too much. Could I please ask, without giving offence, that you consider Cliff's feelings on Friday evening?"

"God that's the considerate thing you mother would have said to me in all those years ago in Wellington had she taken me home to meet the folk. But I think she thought I was too radical to take home."

"Radical? Or do you mean a hard drinker and womanizer?"

"I suggest your check with your mother about that. She liked me enough to go out with me repeatedly."

"Did you two have sex?"

Eyeing Sharon straight-faced, Harry said he didn't think sex was invented in those days.

Sharon burst out laughing, spraying Harry's face with some of her drink.

"Oh Harry, I am so sorry."

"Thanks but it's okay. I've been sprayed by women who are experts."

"Omigod Harry that's disgusting; you terrible man," Sharon giggled and looked at him almost affectionately.

Sharon called him early Friday afternoon.

"It's Sharon Harry. I've taken today off and am dithering. I had decided to cook lamb shanks but I've been to three butchers and the supermarket and all I could find was two scrawny shanks that just won't do. Mom rarely eats beef and never eats pork or venison and you men..."

"Whoa Sharon, you'd be wetting your pants at this rate. I was thinking the night many years ago when I wowed your mother cooking her a birthday dinner. Now you cook this meal as I tell you, leave nothing out, and we'll see if she has memory recall."

"Oh Harry what a wonderful idea. Mum is pretty sharp, she may well recognize the set-up if you sit facing her with a stupid look on your face."

"Thank you darling."

"Oh god, I've insulted the doyen."

"I've been insulted by experts darling. I was thanking you for agreeing to participate in this set-up."

"Oh sorry." 

Well this is the menu, write it down: Cream of Crayfish (lobster) soup. You have to make it and serve it immediately. Get the recipe off the web. Then Chicken Maryland with boiled potatoes sprinkled with parsley and mash together boiled carrots and parsnips and quickly steam fresh spinach. For desert layer tinned peaches in parfait glasses with double cream in between and topped with a meringue with a blob of cream on that to hold a preserved cherry... you buy them at the supermarket."

"Omigod you have always cooked?"

"Since living alone, yes. It was either that or eat out or die."

Harry tried on two suits, not knowing which one was his best suit, and then decided to wear black trousers, black shoes and socks and a white long-sleeved business shirt with the top unbuttoned. Once he would have worn a cravat but no one seemed to wear them these days apart from old gay men with gold rings on both hands. 

Harry, wearing the gold watch presented years ago when he won a national major award for excellence in newspaper journalism, arrived with a bouquets of flowers for both women and two bottles of gold medal pinot noir. He'd tell the host to cellar one of the bottles.

Harry punched the doorbell button and waited for Sharon to arrive, hopefully with a plunging neckline and no bra so he could assess her tits.

An older Sharon look-alike opened the door. Her brown hair was streaked with gray and in a French roll and she was elegantly dressed in a full-length blue grown with a plunging neckline but he could see a blue bra.

"Hello Harry, long-time-no-see. You look mod and distinguished."

"Hi Helen, good to see you again. You haven't changed a bit."

"You can cut that out Harry Boone; you're not seducing me on the front doorstep."

"Sex began boring me thirty years ago and I put it aside."

"Once a liar always a liar Harry. You were too good at sex to give it up. Oooh is the wine for me?"

"No the flowers. Um you haven't kissed me."

"Well let's remedy that."

They kissed unhurriedly. Harry decided not to risk squeezing a breast. He squeezed her left butt instead and she made no comment and when she broke away she was smiling like someone who'd been teased.

Sharon looked quite disappointed when he mom finished her soup and all she said was, "Lovely soup darling. I'll clear."

Sharon's husband, pouring red wine and not offering Harry any said, "Is it true you and Sharon's mother used to have sex in the olden days?"

"It's true I dated Helen occasionally, yes. Can't you reach this far or is the bottle too heavy for you?"

"What you drink wine? Sharon said she thought you were a teetotaler?"

"No I drink wine in moderation, half a bottle minimum with dinner."

"God you must be an alcoholic."

"Not that I've noticed. What do you do?"

"I work for the tax department."

"Oh so you don't have a real job?"

He laughed and said Sharon warned him their visitor could be quite humorous. 

Harry thought the guy had handled that well.

"Well it's nice meeting you Cliff. I must say I reckon Sharon is a rising star."

"What in bed?"

Eh? "Are you joking Cliff?"

"Yes oh did I forget to smile."

Noise arrived; the women were back. Harry was so relieved about that.

Helen complimented the cook on the main course and said the presentation looked perfect.

"Why aren't we having real meat instead of this..."

"Shut up Cliff," Sharon admonished calmly.

Harry helped Sharon clear and in the kitchen patted her butt and all she said was, "Oooh Harry."

"You husband is a bit dry for you isn't he?"

"Actually our level of compatibility is excellent," she replied. "He's non-competitive and that suits me fine. Oh is case you were worried, he's really excellent in bed."

"Well that's a plus."

""He has a big plus Harry," Sharon giggled and Harry knew he now adored her. It was like gaining a third daughter.

He carried two of the deserts out and Sharon teamed up beside him once he was through the door carrying the other two.

Helen looked at the parfaits, gaped and cried, "Omigod. I was thinking the first two dishes were a sheer coincidence but this proves my suspicion was on track. Oh very good Harry."

Cliff asked what had Harry done towards the preparation of the meal.

"Harry presented this meal for my twenty-second birthday," Helen said, looking quite flushed.

"The food had kept well," Cliff said dryly, and was ignored.

"Mom did you and Harry have sex when you occasionally dated all those years ago?"

"That's why we dated darling. We were both lusty young people and probably hadn't heard of platonic friendships."

Sharon, Harry and Helen laughed and Cliff looked like someone who's just missed the bus. Harry spotted that and felt sorry for Cliff but felt powerless to help the guy get a real life. They weren't on the same highway, so to speak.

Sharon and Cliff cleared away, Sharon telling Harry and Helen to catch up.

Harry decided there was nothing to loose by telling it like it was.

"I lost my wife a couple of years back; she was too young to die."

"Yes so I was told. That was so tragic. I was aware she was a fine journalist and had worked as news editor of your newspaper. I suppose my motor-mouth daughter told you I dumped my husband."

"Yeah but she didn't elaborate."

"I caught him in bed with my supposedly best girlfiend, use of that word is intentional. Both were going fully at it."

"How tragic."

Helen said, "That was lovely of you saying that so simply. It was all that needed to be said."

"Yeah well we go a long way back. Do you still fuck?"

"I might."

Harry grinned and said, "That was lovely of you saying that so simply. It was all that needed to be said."

She laughed and said her daughter said she regarded Harry as quite a character with a touch of roguishness. "I gather she rather likes you."

"Well she's a great personality and you should be very proud of her."

Helen said yes, very proud.

She straightened the back of her hair. "Why did you ask was I sexually active?"

"I was thinking of asking you for a date. Sex used to be a focal point of our dates, but not entirely, and I would hope little has really changed."

Helen said, "I believe I have changed considerably since those days. I was neither a wife nor a mother then."

"Agreed but I was talking about fundamentals. Irrespective of what we did we met to enjoy each other's company."

"Well yes."

"Thanks. I was only attempting to make a point. The fact is sex won't be the same because we've slowed down and our performance levels have probably wilted."

She smiled disarmingly. "But I take it you can still get it up and keep it up?"

"Of course," Harry said somewhat stiffly.

"I'm sorry."

"No it's okay. You just caught me flat-footed. You were simply seeking clarification, that's all."

"Thanks."

"Hi you two, what are you two so engrossed about?" Sharon said easily, arriving with coffee for four.

"We were talking about music," said her mother, while Harry said they'd been talking about sex.

Sharon giggled, "Well which one was it?"

Helen said sex and Harry said music.

They fell about laughing.

Sharon said, "I've been at mom to come here and live. She's promised to consider that request seriously."

"Oh excellent," Harry said. "My two daughters are hoping that will happen. While one is only lukewarm about the possibility of your mother and I revitalizing an old romance, the youngest daughter is practically agog about the possibility. She's an incurable romantic."




Harry Pt. 02



"I'm surprised you even mentioned a possible association between us at this early stage," Helen said a little sternly, making Sharon look quite worried.

"I communicate closely with my two daughters," Harry said. "They're all I have and I don't want them drifting away from me should I display a declining interest in them and not wanting them to relate closely with me."

"Oh god Harry, I'm sorry. I must have sounded so selfish."

He smiled at Helen and said it was fine. He just wanted her to know just how close he was to his children. "Perhaps we could arrange a social meeting this weekend or perhaps sometime later."

"This weekend would be fine," Helen said. "Should I appear before them dressed or undressed?"

"I'd prefer them to see is coupling," Harry chuckled and Helen giggled.

Sharon said, "God you two, I can't keep up with you. You had me really going then, thinking you were about to exchange insults."

"Never fear darling. Harry and I always were on the same wavelength even though I was the more conservative one in those days."

EPILOGUE

Harry's daughters Lynette and Anita met Helen as Helen's guests for lunch and they reported back to Harry. Lynette worried that Helen appeared rather too classy for Harry while Anita thought it was just the way Helen projected herself. That left Harry thinking it was a score of 1-1 in approval.

But Sharon made the difference. After her mother went home she look Harry to lunch and persuaded him to go after her mom and nail her, that Helen was excited about the possibility of having a hot romance. 

Harry learned that Helen was going to London to attend her bridesmaid's 60th birthday at a country hotel in Surrey. He persuaded Sharon to arrange for him to be invited to the celebrations and to be booked into the hotel, explaining to Kathleen that Harry was an old boyfriend of Helen's and wished to reconnect positively. 

Kathleen did better than requested, she had Harry booked into Helen's room. Harry and Helen returned to New Zealand engaged and every happy and announced the wedding date.

Apparently this display of passion ignited something in Harry's daughters because Lynette, although forty-one became pregnant for the second time and younger Anita became pregnant for the first time and she and Steve Young set their wedding date.

Harry's management of the merger of the two newspapers was hailed as a great success and he was appointed to replace a retiring director of the board. Six months after he began that role he was elected at the annual meeting of the board to replace the deputy chairman and a year later her replaced his retiring former father Lionel Wiseman as executive chairman of the company. 

These days Harry's wealthy wife Helen is a leading patron on the arts in the City of Rutherford, is a city councilor and deputy chairman of the Mid-North Island Regional Hospital Board. 

Harry is the most popular mayor in Rutherford's history because of his irrelevant approach to authority and traditions and his passion to maintain Rutherford as a desirable city in which to live. Crime is among the lowest of any city in the country, tourism numbers have gone through the roof and Harry has just been to Wellington where he convinced his old university to establish a satellite adult education center in Rutherford to operate from the vacant library. The new library is part of Rutherford's impressive huge new Regional Arts Center.

THE END