1 comments/ 23555 views/ 0 favorites The Acquisitive Lady By: Moondrift "It's time we got rid of this antique plumbing; get some modern stuff; you'd like that, wouldn't you sweetheart?" "Another bribe to keep me quiet," I thought. Ben was always coming up with something to shut me up. "I could get all the stuff we need, new bath, hand basin, sink and pipes. All we need to do is get the plumber in to install it." "Yes, I bet he could 'get all the stuff'," I mused. Ben always knew someone who knew someone who had an uncle who…. Ben who was as in "Import - Export," which really meant he had a lot of shonky mates with whom he did shady deals he called "business." You know, deals out of sight of the taxman and police – stuff that just happened to fall off the back of a lorry or someone happened to be selling in the pub. Still, it was a good idea. The existing plumbing had been put in the cottage on the cheap some time back in the nineteen thirties and the iron pipes were choked up with some alkaline stuff and the water only dribbled out of the taps. I say "cottage" because that is what the place is called, "The Cottage." If that conjures up in your mind a quaint thatched place, forget it; it's more like a mini mansion that I was supposed to keep clean and tidy while Ben was off making his deals, and other things I suspected. You might be getting the impression I didn't like Ben very much, and you'd be right. Why had I married him and why did I stay married to him? I'll tell you in one word, "Money". Where I come from money is scarce and a good looking girl wants the best deal she can get, and that means financial security. I had the looks and I wanted the best deal, so in a way I suppose that makes me no better than Ben. I'd better give a description of myself and Ben. I'm five feet eight; long darkish blonde hair; big blue eyes, nicely chiselled nose, wide mouth with full lips. Breasts? Yes, you guessed it, 38DD; narrow waist; hips to match the bosom and lovely long legs that guys always wanted to get to the top of. I had plenty of female assets and I was going to sell them to the highest bidder. Ben turned out to be that highest bidder. He's five feet four, balding, plump and his breath always smells fishy. In addition he is twenty years older than me. But he had the main asset I was looking for at that time, the moolah. He had a warehouse underneath the railway arches near our place where he kept his "Stock," as he called it. I used to pass it on my way to and from the shop I worked in. One day we got talking and one thing led to another. Of course, he didn't have marriage in mind, and in the phony American accent he sometimes affected he put the proposition to me, "Hey babe, you and me could have a great time together." "Nothing doing," I told him. I was hanging out for marriage and nothing less. He was so horny looking at my bosom he finally surrendered and asked me to marry him. Security was won! My mum and dad didn't like him, but when he started to bring them things he just "happened to have got" his hands on, they relented and told me what a lucky girl I was. So that was it. We got married and came to live in The Cottage on the outskirts of a village miles out of town. For a while he fucked me like a pig. Come to think of it, I don't really know how a pig fucks and perhaps I'm insulting pigs. Let's just say he had a nasty way with him in bed. One of the things I discovered was, that however good looking you are, if a guy marries you just for bedtime, the icing can go off the cake fairly quickly. A couple of years after we were married Ben's bed performances dropped off remarkably and his need to be away "on business" kept pace with the decline in sexual activity with me. So why did he stay with me? Well, there was something of an unspoken deal between us. Even if he didn't fuck me very often, he was business man enough to realise he had an asset in me. "You keep your looks and I'll come up with the money," was the deal. You see, beyond that he expected me to "be nice to" his "colleagues" as he called them. This included letting them ogle my tits and let them fumble me a bit. To put it another way, I was part of his business assets, and when he couldn't close a lucrative deal I was supposed to do it for him. Don't get me wrong. It was never bed time with any of his grotty colleagues, just the promise of delights to come if the deal was struck – a promise I made sure I never kept. Perhaps you think that we were a pair well matched, and you're probably right up to a point. There I was, twenty five years old, undoubtedly sexy and well looked after financially. All I had to do was be a "good girl," not enquire too deeply about what Ben got up to on his so-called business trips – not that I cared very much – and I got the goodies, including new plumbing. On the down side I was bloody bored. Ben was as usual as good as his word, as he always was when it came to giving me the things he could do deals over. Consequently various items of plumbing began to arrive at The Cottage over the course of a couple of weeks, mainly delivered after dark. These were followed a week later by several plumbers who came to look the situation over and make their offer for the work. The one chosen was a dismal middle aged man who always looked as if he'd just received bad news. His name was "Arry" (Harry), and he was accompanied by a young man around nineteen years old who was introduced as, "Me apprentice Morrie" (Maurice). In female fashion I noted that Maurice was a nice looking well set up young bloke, but beyond that I let them get on with the job. "The job" seemed at first to consist of hammering, chiselling and sundry other noises interspersed with, "Push it to me," "Just lift that end," and similar communications. Added to this was the inconvenience of various items of existing plumbing going out of service from time to time as the old was removed and the new installed. I bore this with patience since at least it broke the monotony of the rural silence that usually prevailed, except when such exciting events as a farm tractor passing The Cottage took place. What an awful woman I must sound to you! You might say that I could have involved myself in village affairs, done charitable work, gone to church and so forth. I suppose I could have, but my city upbringing had never prepared me for that sort of life. Since my personal Saab sat in the garage I could also have taken trips to the city, but I rarely did. Why was this? I think the trouble was I was depressed. I'd got the money and The Cottage, a fancy car, but there was something missing. I just didn't seem to be able to get off my butt and do things. I even had wistful thoughts about the shop I used to work in and the manager with his wandering hands and five kids. I began to get some entertainment when I decided to offer the plumbers tea and coffee during their breaks. 'Arry' regaled me with stories of gloom and doom and informed me that the end of the world was arriving soon with "The Second Coming." Maurice on the other hand told of games of rugby he played and who he was dating "next weekend." His talk of dating sent a pang of nostalgia through me, recalling my teenage years holding sweaty hands in cinemas, bodies pressed close while dancing and fighting off fumbling hands on a park seat late at night. Maurice was no different from other males I met. I saw him looking at me with big brown contemplative eyes. He was a nice looking boy, strong and healthy but with a pensive look about him. He was not a bit like the ominous 'Arry, or for that matter any sort of plumber I had ever imagined. I must admit I hadn't often dwelt imaginatively on plumbers. The work went on a lot longer than I expected, with things being dragged out and new things being installed. This had the inconvenience of not being able to use some appliances, but in addition, the fact that the more I saw of Maurice the more I liked him. This I thought was not good. I had been relieved when Ben's sexual interest in me declined and I didn't have to listen to his groaning and snuffling as he fucked me, but I was young, healthy and fertile. Ben didn't want kids because, as he put it, "It'll spoil your tits." When it came to sex with me he was a "belt and braces man." He insisted that I be on the pill and at the same time he used a condom on the grounds that, "Nothing is a hundred percent safe." Just like him to think in percentages! If I'd had a kid or two I might have been more content with my situation, but on the other hand I wasn't sure I wanted to breed with Ben. The thought of a couple of little Bens around the place I found abhorrent. I'd never had an orgasm with Ben from day one of our marriage, and to meet my female needs in this respect I gratified myself with a dildo or a vibrator, neither item having been acquired through Ben's "connections." These gave some relief for my female urges, but since Ben had been the only man I had ever had sex with, I did begin to wonder what it would be like with really potent lover who did not stink of fish. That was where young Maurice came over my horizon. I imagined him with his dates and the things they got up to; perhaps in the back of his car or, if they were more fortunate, in the comfortable circumstances of a real bed. The more I thought about this the more I wondered what it would be like with him. I tried to imagine this when I gratified myself and I found that his fantasy image rose up before me with no difficulty. Since the only time I saw Maurice was in company with 'Arry, nothing was likely to occur, besides, what would the lady of a mini-manor be doing bedding a young plumber? No, for all Maurice's yearning glances, I could hardly put my somewhat luxurious situation in jeopardy. In any case the job would eventually be finished and Maurice would depart. Nature has a curious way of overtaking us at times. On the one hand there is the instinct for acquisition of this world's goods, and on the other there are our basic sexual desires, or at least, that was the case with me. Where the two can be brought together in one relationship, fine, but that wasn't my situation. Thus there was a battle raging inside me as these two elements fought each other. Despite the battle all might have passed with Maurice's departure and in time dreams of him would have faded. Then fate or whatever it is intervened. One morning Maurice turned up for work alone. "Where's 'Arry?" I asked. "Gone down with the flue," Maurice replied. Ben was off on one of his business trips that probably meant with some tart he was currently fucking, and who got some of the monetary spin-off from his wheeling and dealing. I was alone with Maurice! That day the kitchen appliances were due to be finished and walking into the kitchen to boil some water to make coffee for us, I discovered Maurice, head under the sink, legs stretched out on the floor, struggling with something under the sink. Muffled curses emanated from under the sink as he struggled with whatever it was. Had 'Arry been there the job would no doubt have been easier, so I asked, "Can I help?" Maurice's head emerged from under the sink. "Would you really help? It'd make things a lot easier. I'm trying to tighten this nut, but the thing keeps turning around." "What do you want me to do?" He stood up and taking a sort of two-pronged gadget from his tool kits he put the prongs into that grating thing in the sink and said, "If you could hold that I can tighten the rotten thing." His head disappeared under the sink again and as his legs stuck out right in front of the sink so I had to straddle them. The tightening process was re-commenced and completed with my aid. Maurice slid out from under the sink, but I hadn't moved away, so his head ended up between my legs. I heard him give a gasp. I had on only a short skirt and I realised that he must have had an excellent view right to the top of my thighs since my legs were still straddling him, and the panties I was wearing would have left little to the imagination. He lay as if transfixed, so I moved back, and it was my turn to gasp. The lump I saw in his jeans made Ben's sex organ look like a gherkin alongside a cucumber. It was a magnificent if muffled display of manhood. I felt a delightful twinge in my vagina and an almost unbearable ticking sensation in my clitoris. My vagina felt hot and swollen. It was one of those moments when a decision has to be made but also a moment when it is most difficult to think logically. The mind is saying one thing and the body screaming out another. I wanted that big slice of manhood inside me, I wanted to feel its length and breadth plunging into me, deep, thrusting to reach my cervix. I wanted this boy like I'd never wanted anyone before. Slowly Maurice rose to his feet, his faced was flushed and his eyes bright, the pupils dilated. We were both breathing very heavily as we stood, our eyes looking into each other. Maurice leaned back against the sink as if in need of support. I could see he was trembling and my own legs seemed barely able to support me. The tip of my tongue was flickering over my lips like some predatory animal about to enjoy its prey. I who had always been the hunted; who had never allowed my self to be caught unless I was willing, was now the stalking huntress, hungry for my victim. My body had won the struggle and would have its due. My quarry stood before and I sprang, pressing my body against him. My moist lips touched his to swirl over them as I pushed my belly against him, my hips rotating. I could feel his hardness against me. "You want me, don't you Maurice? I know you do, I can feel it." My voice was hoarse with choking lust. He was thrusting against me as he gasped, "Oh God, yes." I broke the kiss and said, "Then fuck me, you beautiful brute, fuck me hard." I pulled him towards the lounge and the big divan and dropped down on it. He came on top of me and I said, "Take my panties off and fuck me Maurice." He rose and drew down the garment, and then unzipped his jeans to expose his shaft. It was even more superb than I had thought. A long, thick light brown ramrod surmounted by a light purple crown already dripping pre-cum. We had no time for love play; I wanted him in me and could feel the urgency of his need. I spread my legs wide to receive him and his crown probed for my entrance. With my hand I guided him in and as he entered he gave a loud groan of ecstasy that accompanied my squeal of hot rapture. God it was beautiful. He was steel hard and his penis was a tight fit against the walls of my vagina, the deep penetration reaching as I had wished to the very end of my tunnel; I gripped him with my vagina and this drew another groan from him. He drew back then plunged into me again. I was in a hell of a state, thrusting up against him gasping, "Deeper, deeper". Then rapidly my orgasm began; that moment when the first signals of its approach engender both dread and delight in a woman; a desire for it not to happen for fear of the exquisite pain, and eagerness for it to continue to a climax of delight and fulfilment. This was to be my first ever orgasm with a man. "I'm coming…I'm coming," I wept, "Come with me…come now." He needed no command from me as he was clearly on the edge himself and the next moment he was thrusting into me more rapidly and intensely than ever. We suddenly became a weeping howling tangle of arms and legs as we thrashed together. The first explosion of his sperm shot into me, the first time I had actually felt this sensation since Ben's ejaculations had been no more of a dribble and dulled by a condom. Now it was hot flesh against hot flesh and seed seeking its goal. He pumped ejection after ejection of his semen into me as my cries rose to a scream as I reached the pinnacle of my orgasm. God how I was elated…how I wanted him never to stop. I felt the last of his sperm enter me and I clung to him. "Don't withdraw…don't leave me…" Even though he had finished his ejaculation he continued to move in me as if he understood my need and was determined to satisfy me. As my orgasm diminished in its intensity he began to speak. "That was fantastic…wonderful…I've never…it was out of this world." I silently agreed with him, but with the temporary cooling of my lust some degree of rationality returned. What had I done? How had I allowed myself to virtually seduce this boy? Suppose Ben ever found out, would he allow me the same sexual latitude he expected for himself? I conjectured not. He was too much the business man, the buyer and seller. He had bought me and I was as much one of his possessions as anything else in his life. He might not want to copulate with me, but he certainly wouldn't accept my copulating with anyone else. I was like an expensive picture hung on the wall that once he had got it, he never bothered to look at it. It was there to satisfy his ego and to be admired and coveted by visitors, but not to be possessed by them. But I wasn't a picture on the wall or any other of his possessions. I was flesh and blood woman with a woman's needs that, as I had found out, went beyond the comfortable life my present status gave me. What did I need? Perhaps I found one corner of it in Maurice, but what more did I want? Maurice had withdrawn from me and was sitting beside me on the divan looking at me, his penis now modestly tucked away. I on the other hand had not moved and was lying on my back, my legs still spread and the juices of our love making oozing out of my vagina. In a very gentlemanly manner he pulled down my skirt to cover my genitals, and we sat not really knowing what to say. It was Maurice who finally broke the silence. "You're very beautifully er…er…" He had only called me Mrs. Stanhope up to that point, but the formality seemed ridiculous after what had passed between us. "Madeline," I said. "Madeline" he murmured as if savouring the name. "Madeline, you're lovely." Another silence ensued until Maurice rose and said, "I'd better finish the work in the kitchen or 'Arry will kill me when he gets back to work." He made to move off to the kitchen but I grabbed his hand and said, "Couldn't it wait for a while?" Men do not often understand that a woman, even when her orgasm is complete, wants the loving embrace of her partner. That said, I must admit I had not understood this myself since I had always been more than happy for snuffling Ben to turn over and go to sleep after he had dribble his sperm. Now I did understand and need that hugging that says, "It wasn't just momentary lust, I do love you." "Love?" What the hell was I thinking? How could there be love between Maurice and me? A momentary surrender to one's carnal appetite does not signify love, and yet in that moment somewhere deep inside me I wanted to be loved. The immediate passion past, I wanted to feel loved. "You want me to stay here with you?" "Yes, do you want to?" "I could, if I worked late this evening to get the job done." "Do you have to get home at a certain time?" "Well, no. I share a house with a couple of guys in the village and they don't care what time I get home, or whether I get home at all," he grinned. "Then stay with me, just for a while." I took the gamble and said, "Stay all night, if you like." "But Mr. Stanhope he…" "He's away on business; he won't be back for days." "Oh, then…" "We won't be disturbed, just stay and talk, it gets bloody lonely here. Look, we're in a bit of a mess, perhaps we ought to clean up. Why not have a shower…if it's working." I looked at him half seriously and he laughed. "It's working all right, but I think you'd better go first because you've got all…all my…" "Your sperm in me? Yes, and some of my own juice as well." The Acquisitive Lady I stood up and felt the glutinous mixture begin to dribble down my thighs. Maurice glanced at the divan seat where the action had taken place and seeing that some of our joint fluids had dropped on to it said, "I'll try and clean this up while you shower." I thought, "I didn't know plumbers were so gentlemanly," then smiling at him I left for the shower. Finishing my shower I slipped on the flimsiest bathrobe I owned and went to the lounge room door and called out, "Its okay now Maurice", and then hurried to my bedroom. Here I checked myself in the mirror and brushed my hair. I wanted to be at my best for the second seduction. Happy that all was well with me I went back to the lounge. Inspecting the divan it seemed that Maurice had managed to remove the sexual residue although there was now a big wet water stain. "It'll dry," I decided, and plonked myself down away from the water patch. Maurice did not take long to shower and he came into the room looking very pleased with him self. I had thought that all the moves would be mine, but I was wrong. Maurice came over to me and lifting me to my feet he kissed me deep and passionately. "I want you again," he said, and made as if to lay me on the divan. "Not here, Maurice, in the bedroom." I led him to the bedroom. My heart was thumping with anticipation for what was to come. What did come was not quite what I anticipated. I did the seductive thing and standing beside the bed I let my bathrobe slip to the floor, to stand naked before Maurice. I heard the sound of Maurice's indrawn breath as he stood looking at me. Quietly in an awe filled voice he said, "Your lovely, Madeline; your more lovely than any…" He stopped short no doubt realising that this was not the moment to make open comparisons between me and his other female partners. He stripped himself never taking his eyes from me, and then he lifted me to sit on the edge of the bed. I didn't know what he wanted to do to me so it came as a surprise, not to say shock, when he parted my legs, raised my feet to rest on the edge of the bed, and knelt before me. He knelt gazing at my genitals for a while, and then I felt his fingers gently part the lips of my vulva. I knew he must have exposed the inner lips and felt embarrassed. I wanted to protest in case the sight of my female organ turned him off, but before I could say or do anything I felt a finger touching the inner lips and probing into my vaginal tunnel. I felt a shiver of pleasure pass through me, but it was nothing to the shuddering delight when, a moment later I felt him lift the hood over my clitoris and touch that little nub of nerve centres. I gave a whimpering cry; I had never been made love to like this by Ben. Maurice was surely a real lover, one who cared for and sought to give maximum pleasure to a woman. His stimulation of my clitoris continued for some time, causing me to cry out continually with ecstasy and also begin to flood with my female fluid. Then I saw his head go down between my legs and felt something soft probing into me. For a moment I was at a loss to know what he was doing to me, then I realised, it was his tongue. He was tasting me…he would smell my woman smell…how could he especially as I was pouring out my lubricant…how could he enjoy it? I tried to stop him, struggling to move away from him calling out, "No Maurice…no…don't do that to me…" He was too strong for me and he held me tight to him. Unable to free myself I surrendered letting him have his way with me. That did not last for long, for however I imagined he felt, I soon began to respond to his ministrations. The sheer thought of his tongue in me, probing into my tunnel and then circling my clitoris…that he obviously wanted to do this to me…was enjoying it…and beyond that the effect it was having on me was beyond anything I had ever experienced in sex. I felt it starting, the first quivers that presage the approaching orgasm, the dread of being stretched on its rack of exquisite torment had me begging him to stop, yet still he went on relentlessly, unyielding to my pitiful pleas. Then it was upon me holding me in bondage to its delicious agony, and I was arching my body towards him as he held my thighs tightly, thrusting with his tongue more avidly than ever as my fluids poured out of me. I was screaming and weeping like a child in pain and still it went on until finally the climax was passed and I was a moaning sobbing creature. He swung me round on the bed and came to lie beside me. It was then I experienced his tenderness as he held me in his arms and gently stroked my face. His own face glistened with my lubricant and as he bent to kiss me I could smell my fragrance and then taste myself. Maurice was unhurried in his love making now, not like the urgency of our first coupling. It was as if he was bent on giving maximum pleasure to me, and as I was to learn, the man, in doing this, is on the road to his own sensual delight. I placed a hand under my breast and raised it to extend a nipple saying, "Suck me…suck me my darling." I felt waves of love engulf me as he complied, sucking and tenderly nibbling on the nipple. Despite my orgasm of a few minutes before I felt the build up of another simply from the stimulation of my nipples, and I was experiencing a whole new realm of sexual love. "Come into me now, darling, let me feel you inside me." I spread my legs for him and he came over me and entered. I almost felt I was on another planet, or perhaps a new Garden of Eden where all is innocence and joy; Maurice was my Adam and I his Eve, united as man and woman were intended to be. Foolish and stupidly romantic? Perhaps, but I pity anyone who has not known this bliss, the deep satisfaction of a fulfilling coupling. No wonder some people describe sexual intercourse as a spiritual experience. What we were doing as Maurice slowly moved up and down in me did not seem like "fucking" as I understood it. For the first time I felt it as an act of loving procreation, the beginning of new life in my womb. It was in that moment I deeply regretted the barrier of the pill that stood between me and this outcome. I wanted to be impregnated by Maurice, to carry our child, and I could have wept for its impossibility. Indeed I did weep, but once more it was the weeping of a wonderful orgasm. I wanted to consume him and be consumed by him; I wanted us to meld together, to become one. Long after we had ended our orgasms he stayed in me and held me, telling me how lovely I was. I somehow felt that he meant more than my external appearance, that he was seeing something deeper in me, something I could not see in myself. I had felt love for him, but how was this possible? True we had copulated but I hardly knew him, and yet felt as if I'd always known him. Was I mistaking lust for love, but if so, why did I feel so tenderly towards him after the edge of passion had been blunted? Why was he caressing me so tenderly when he could have got up and commenced his work? I didn't know and all my old values seemed to be tumbling down. I have heard that prisoners long held in custody begin to look forward to the day of their release with dread. I had been imprisoned within my own values, the rapacious desire for money and grasping at what I thought was security. Now a new world seemed to have opened before me, and I was hesitating at the door of my prison. For the time being Maurice and I were sated, and after eating lunch he went back to work as we didn't want 'Arry killing him. He worked furiously, obviously wanting to return to our love making, which by early evening and after a meal, we did. That night I now always think of as our honeymoon night. The next day we anticipated the arrival of 'Arry, but about eight o'clock the telephone rang it was the man himself. "I been tryin' to ring Morrie but they say he ain't there. Tell 'im I'm still feelin' lousy and won't be in for a couple of days. Tell 'im he can finish off the work in the laundry. I 'ope 'es been puttin' 'is back into it." I was able to tell 'Arry quite truthfully that Maurice had been "putting his back into it." For the next few days Maurice continued to put his back into it and I came to realise that a monster had been let loose in both of us. Maurice rang the house he shared and let it be known that he was staying with a friend for a few days, which again was the truth. Each of us in the power of our monster, we could not leave each other alone. Between periods of plumbing work we engaged in the work of trying to satisfy each other. The problem was we didn't seem to be able to manage it. The more I had of Maurice the more I wanted and he seemed to be in the same situation with me. As the week drew to a close I began to dread the return of 'Arry and Ben. How would things go on from there? Or perhaps they would not go on. Perhaps Maurice would have had enough of me by then? As the ominous time drew near I was to discover that Maurice was experiencing the same dread as me. "What are we going to do, Madeline?" he asked one night after we had finished making love – at least temporarily. "We can't not see each other; we can't just stop…can we?" I said "Yes we can, if you want to." "I don't bloody well want to and you know it," he replied with unusual irritability. I understood how he felt, but was still not sure just how far things would go between us. From what I have seen of other couples in similar situations the relationship either fades out, or one of the partners starts to ask for more than the other can give, you know, like "Leave him/her and come and live with me." I was reticent to make any commitment beyond the present. This was partly because I had to be sure of my and Maurice's ongoing feelings. The other part was that I was not sure I could give up the materially blessed life I had with Ben. I was at least smart enough to know that what one decides to do in the midst of infatuation can harbour future disaster. So, were Maurice and I merely infatuated with each other and could I let go of my material security? I had to have time to test both Maurice and myself. We in fact decided that we would see as much of each other as much as possible. Ben was often away and Maurice and I could be together over night and weekends when Ben was away. Apart from that we managed the odd hour or so. I think it went on like that for about eight months. We were still totally enamoured of each other, but then the "something more" started to emerge. The "something more" happened to coincide with something I had felt and wanted from the very beginning. Perhaps it is a crazy instinct in some women, but I wanted Maurice to make me pregnant. I had reached the point where I felt sure of Maurice's love for me and mine for him, so when one night as he was about to ejaculate into me he said, "I want to make you pregnant," he struck a powerful and responsive chord in me. This was crisis point. To become pregnant with Maurice would surely end my marriage with Ben. His possession would have been defiled and no longer be fit to be his possession. Could I…would I… be willing to give up that status of being in his possession? The old money hunger was still there. What to do about it? I assured Maurice that I would dearly love to have a child with him, and asked if he could accept the responsibility that went with having a child. He was no idiot and could see quite well that he would be totally unable to provide me and a child with the sort of life style I then had. He was desperately miserable about this but could see no way that he could do anything about it. I continued to give the matter much thought, and finally I saw a light at the end of the tunnel. The upshot was I took myself off the pill. I said nothing to Maurice about stopping taking the pill and it took some time, but eventually I became pregnant. I still said nothing to Maurice, but I did tell Ben. That was a night to remember. After dinner one evening I announced quite baldly, "Ben, I'm going to have a baby." He sat staring at me for a moment wondering if he'd heard aright. "Did you say you're going to have a baby?" "Yes." "You must be mistaken, how could you when we take precau…" Another pause, longer this time. "But you can't be we haven't…" "No, we haven't, have we Ben!" "Then…my God, you've been screwing with someone else." "That's right Ben." His face went red and seemed to swell up. "You fucking whore…you…slut…after all I've done…you're not foisting your bastard on me…you'll get of this house…you'll get nothing from me…who the bloody hell is it? Who's been fucking you?" "Not telling, Ben." "I'll have him killed…I know guys…I'll take a contract out on him…" "I don't think you will, Ben." "Oh, and what's to stop me." "Because you'd have to have me killed as well." "How do you make that out?" "I know too much, Ben." "What d'yer mean?" "Look Ben, when you've calmed down I think you'll see that it would be best if you were very nice to me. After all you've got your other women; one of them could easily step into my shoes…" "How do you know about…?" "Because I'm not stupid. You don't think I've been fooled by all this 'Going away on business' stuff, do you?" "You've no cause for complaint. I dragged you out of a slum and given you a good life." "That's true, at least, in part, Ben. And I think you'll want to go on giving me an easy life." "Like fucking hell I will. You're out of here." "Yes, I'm out of here, when I'm ready to get out." "You said you knew too much, what does that mean?" "Ben dear, you don't think I'm a complete fool, do you? I've kept my eyes and ears open; I've listened to you and your shonky mates talking." "So what?" "So I know where all the money is hidden away from the tax man and I know a lot about your less than legal dealings. Mr. Tax Man and the constabulary would be very interested in some things I could tell them. Now you don't want that to happen, do you?" "You bitch…you wouldn't…I'll have you…" "I would and I don't think you'll have me killed. You see, the information is all documented and in a safe place. Think it over, Ben, and we'll talk about it tomorrow." His plump frame seemed to have diminished, like a balloon that been stuck with a pin, but he said nothing, but stomped out of the room. I decided it would not be diplomatic to share the bed with him that night – or any other night thereafter. Ben was right though, I am a bitch – a conniving woman making the best deal she could. As I have said, in that respect Ben and I were well matched. Maybe you can forgive me a little, because as I saw it I was doing this for the man I loved and the child that was on its way, as well as for myself. I have finished except to note what happened and where things are several years later. Ben stumped up with an allowance for me. I had the baby – a daughter. Maurice finished his apprenticeship but did not continue as a plumber, and with my urging we opened a plumbing supplies shop. I've had two more babies since then, and after learning something about the plumbing supply business, I took on the buying. I do quite a bit of business with The Ben Stanhope Export/Import Enterprises, and very profitable it is. Oh dear, they do say a leopard never changes its spots. I suppose I'm still acquisitive but I've got love and the fruits of love to go with it now.