Harry Pt. 02byEgmontGrigor2011©
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."
"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."
"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.
"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."
"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.
"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."
"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.
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."
"Come on Claire, the sky won't fall in."
She took a deep breath and whispered tits. "Are you attempting to corrupt me?"
She giggled and didn't appear concerned.