Her Beautiful Man

Chapter 1

When Maisie Lott was in her late teens, her mother Emily sat her down, looking serious.

Maisie braced herself for a lecture about the birds and bees and wondered if her somewhat out-of-date mother would then invite her front-running daughter, in terms of reading knowledge, to be informed about how the modern woman behaves in bed or on the kitchen floor or even spread over the dining table.

But not to be.

Emily said, "There now, I have given you a glimpse of the window of life that you will begin to experience in your twenties, and not too early I would hope, this being the latest mother-to-daughter talk as approved by Pastor James.

Maisie was left wondering just how lacking in enlightenment was her mother.

There had been no mention of self-generated sexual gratification, back-door sex, cutting loose at a sex-driven party of just females, the essential list of joy-toys for girls in their late teens, and how to roll on a condom with one's teeth.

Also not covered were other essentials to educate what lay ahead for a daughter entering the age when hair around her pussy was turning into a fucking jungle while worrying when the day would arrive when she'd have to shave her top lip practically daily.

How stupid.

Her mother should have just tossed her a sex education video and said something like 'get your teeth into that, my darling' and waited outside the door for her sensitive little darling to come running to her screaming that she wanted to start living in a convent,

"Oh yeah," giggled very well-read Maisie.

Maisie' long trend of bringing home new girlfriends began changing with her age development.

She remembered how that subtle change occurred.

Pete followed her into the house and Maisie's had called out, "Hi mum, I'm home from school with a friend. We are ready for food and juice."

Emily came into the kitchen in her Sunday Best as she wore every late afternoon in the hope one of the church ladies would phone and suggest she'd drop in for a cuppa.

Taking one look at the new friend, Emily had yelled, "What are you doing in MY house with MY daughter?"

Peter just reacted like any normal young guy; he just shrugged.

"Get out of my house before I sweep you out with a broom."

"Mum, stop cavorting in a brainless mind over-flow. Pete just happens to be the first boy I've ever brought home for an afternoon bite. No, stay Pete, and stop looking terrorised as that will only provoke my mother."

"What language are you using?" Emily said, looking agog. "I've never heard you speak like that before."

"It's nothing really mum, it's just that I'm 6-months into being at a State school after all those years after being at a convent-run school until I was expelled for proclaiming to the class that it was impossible for a virgin birth to have had occurred, that the Scripture writers must have been smoking pot when they wrote that bit. I now attend a real-world school where modern education really means that."

"Omigod."

"Yes mum, and He probably exists at State-run schools too. Sit Pete and mum, may we have the food and drink we are hanging out for, please."

"Oh, of course," Emily said and walked in a trance-like state to the cake tins.

Maisie clearly remembers Pete, these days a Med School graduate, looking at her in awe and saying, 'F-fucking shit, Maisie, you handled your out-of-her-tree mother like an a-accomplished lion-tamer'.

It was also Pete who suggested, in apparent total sincerity, that her name Maisie was adorable.

"Adorable name, really?" Maisie can remember saying and thinking she could hear Angels chorusing 'Hallelujah'.

Maisie shudders whenever dialling up the memory at the end of her first day at university, taking Freddie Holmes home with her for dinner. Freddie had ungroomed red hair down to his shoulders, red stubble as he was attempting to grow a beard, a dirty white shirt and his zip had been jammed opened and there were embarrassing tell-tale stains on his pants around the dysfunctional zip.

Her father Owen, gaped at Freddie as if he were the Second Coming while Emily just fell straight to the floor and broke her nose.

Freddie just left without being asked to leave, as if his awesome intellect told him that the welcome mat had been pulled indoors and he was forever a banned visitor to that home.

Four years went by.

Maisie remembers it was, for her parents, as if Auckland had frozen in time as their lovely daughter and her lovely gay friend Madeline, who they adored without knowing the girls were actually consummate lovers, walked together on-stage together as joint winners to receive the Fellows Award for graduating top of their class with honours in studying for their Master's Degree in Education.

Maisie spent the next day in bed in grief over the loss of her best-ever friend. Madeline had left late the previous evening, flying to England with her parents where she was soon begin up-grading her qualification there to permit her to begin teaching at the girl's boarding school where her mother and grandmother had both been pupils and then returned to teach.

During that day, Emily had come into the bedroom to comfort her daughter and said, "Maisie, I can't understand why you are grieving so hard over the loss of Madeline. I know that you lived your last three years at university in shared accommodation and did practically everything together, but we all know as we grow up that friends come and go."

"But mum, we were closer than close," Maisie sobbed.

Emily asked what did that mean.

"For almost every day for three years, Madeline and I copulated."

Amid her shock and sobbing, Emily pondered and finally said, "I was aware that you two were called gay but it assumed that merely meant happily compatible. Um, now can I say this but to come right out with it, "Where you two in a lesbian relationship?

"Yes, and heavily," Maisie sobbed, tears running.

"Oh, my darling, now I understand; you have lost a dear lover," said Emily, unaware that she'd just jumped into the 21st Century of General Knowledge.

"Yes mother," Maisie wailed and Emily began patting her, shedding tears also.

Next evening, mother and daughter were sipping gin and tonics together while Owen cooked dinner on the outdoor barbecue, Emily said, "You know Maisie, you young devil. You began shocking me from an early age and yet yesterday, when I learned what your total relationship with Madeline really was, I was little more than mildly shocked. It appears you have finally worn me down until I'm almost conditioned to expect anything from you."

"Um, will it be difficult to find a replacement err, girlfriend lover?"

Maisie sniffed, "Not particularly difficult. Opportunities are practically everywhere."

"That can't be so, darling."

"Oh yes, mother. Even within your church."

"That definitely can't be so," Emily blurted, spilling gin and tonic over her dress front in shock at hearing such an allegation.

"Mum, I suggest you carefully ask your pastor's wife what is her relationship with Mrs Bennett."

"Oh, for goodness sake, Maisie. Don't be so absurd."

"Fine mother, you are entitled to your beliefs even if at times they may blind you."

They sipped in silence until Eve said shakily, "I believe you Maisie. You have rarely lied to me and I finally accept you are telling the truth over Matilda and Irene. Omigod, how the world in changing."

"In some ways, perhaps it could be changing for the better," Maisie said.

They giggled.

"Ho-ho, what's the joke?" Owen said, coming in to say dinner was ready, with his wife eyeing gravy spills on his apron.

"You would be disgusted, dad."

"Oh no," he said, backing out of the doorway fast. "Keep me away from discussion about periods."

The women laughed and Emily said, "We'll both miss you terribly darling, when you decide to leave home."

"Is that a hint, mother?"

"Oh goodness no, Maisie," her mother said earnestly. "Who else could I have conversations with about topics such as periods."

They both spilled their drinks, laughing so much.

"Mum, do you remember the day when I brought home Pete, who is now Dr Peter Joll?"

They were cackling again and finally went to the dining table to join Owen who was waiting patiently for them to start eating, but both women noticed gravy on his chin and his steak looked decidedly small.

Chapter 2

Maisie Lott began work as an assistant staff training officer for a multi-national insurance corporation.

From day one, she wore tight skirts to show off her cute and tight arse and her bra of the day was always two sizes too small for real comfort, but that meant by looking sexy, she had required such assistance to wean herself on to males-only sex as there were males galore on the company's workforce.

Within a few days of her arrival, Maisie was being asked by female co-workers, "How do you manage to attract guys to hang around you like you do?"

"Set yourself up as bait, by looking smart, spraying on top perfume and give more than a hint of what you have up top. Great looking ones, aren't they." She'd say to her wide-eyed listeners, cupping one of her partly exposed breasts. "This ploy that I have explained, works more successfully than leaping up and tongue-kissing guys while sliding an aphrodisiac held in your mouth down to drop into their gullet."

Her listeners would practically stand agape and inevitably female workers began spreading word that Maisie was the best fuck in the building.

That rumour was picked up by males and Maisie had even more males hovering around in her vicinity, waiting for their chance to pitch her a line.

A year later, the head trainer Rose Eastman, announced she was leaving to have a baby.

Maisie immediately swung into action and set out to seduce the director in charge of recruitment and training.

Bruce was not good looking and somewhat effeminate and Maisie knew instinctively how to manage him.

She stopped him in a corridor and didn't bother with preliminaries.

"Bruce, how is it that you never asked me out to a drink after work like other executive who also are married. Are you gay?"

The poor chap looked lung-punctured.

"Gay?" he asked, practically shaking in his shoes.

"Are you staring at my boobs."

"No," he said, not having been doing that but now looking at the top of her head.

"I like real men eyeing my boobs. I didn't call them tits in case you reported me for being sexist."

"Sexist?" he said, sounding puzzled.

"Do you actually have sex with your wife Bruce, or do you limited yourself to sucking her toes."

"Toes?" he said in shock.

"Yes, the sexiest part of their body for some females," Maisie said with authority and walked off.

Bruce called "Maisie?" and ran after her.

"Why are you now looking sexy, Bruce?" she asked the poor guy whose face was screwed up and pink in embarrassment.

"I-I w-w-was wondering..."

"Sure, Bruce, after work at 5.00 today at Marlo's Bar."

"Oh, s-so s-s-soon, I w-was just about to ask w-would you consider having a drink w-with me s-sometime."

"Exactly, anyone women could have guessed that just by looking at your expression, Bruce. Is today at 5.30 soon enough for you Bruce?"

"I-l'll s-see you there."

"It's just for a drink Bruce, so tell no one, including your wife, otherwise they'll guess you're out to fuck me."

"I-I h-have..."

Bruce stopped, as Maisie had turned and was walking away and was holding a thumb and forefinger behind her swinging arse to signal a 'Big O'.

Poor Bruce was horrified, feeling he was getting an erection. In the office, for fuck sake!

Maisie was sitting on a bar stool facing the mirror behind the bar and looked at Bruce approaching, pleased that he was gazing at the back of her shoes and that would indicate to him that she was sitting with her legs apart.

"Hi Bruce," she said, patting a stool beside her. "I'll have another G&T.

"Do I kiss you; I mean just a dab on the cheek?"

"No Bruce, I'm into the full Monty, never just a dab, if you know what I mean."

"Yes, I get what you mean."

"What did I mean, Bruce?"

"I didn't get it."

"Really?"

"Well, don't kiss me in a bar as everyone will assume we're fucking regularly, and that just could get back to your wife."

"But we are not fucking."

"Hmm and is that about to change, Bruce?"

He hesitated and said that he liked the thought.

She snapped, "Bruce!"

He said yes, if she was willing to open her legs for him, he would be in.

"Can you keep your mouth shut about this."

"Yes, absolutely."

"Then set it up for you to fuck me, Bruce. And make it soon."

He smiled and said he never realized it could be so easy to line up a woman to fuck other than his wife.

He smiled and Maisie dropped a hand softly on his upper thigh.

"I'm not a hooker Bruce, but I respect you, being my topmost boss and I just wish to ensure that I teach you really how to fuck to avoid all other women thinking you might be gay."

"Right, I'll book us a room for tomorrow night and tell Jane I have an urgent late management meeting."

"Leave it to me to book the room, Bruce, but you pay for it for the privilege of fucking me. Only four men in the office have fucked me," she lied.

"Rumour has it you've fucked almost all 240 men of the 358 people on our staff. I had guessed it would be my turn eventually."

"They are fucking rumours, Bruce. You have it from the horse's mouth, I say four. I like having sex but I don't make a pig of myself and over-indulge to have my pussy losing its tightness and having my butt being squashed out of shape."

Unworldly Bruce gaped.

Bruce proved to be pathetic in bed but after four assignations with Maisie, he was showing major improvement.

"Don't dump all of your new upskilling on Jane all at once Bruce, otherwise she'll know you've been with a learned woman. I suggest you buy a couple of porn DVD and place them partly hidden, I suggest in your underpants drawer, where she'll place your washed undies and she'll guess that's where your new-found experience has originated."

"Oh, great idea. You have an amazing depth of knowledge and exhibit a huge range of skills, I mean just look at how you brought me to heel and have been fucking me."

"Yes Bruce, and that's why I've been looking around for a better level of employment to use my skills to my employer's advantage. Well, I'm convinced you are not gay, so that's the end of our balling. Take your tired cock home and rest in peace. Fuck another couple of females in the office and they will spread the rumour that you are clearly a manly man."

"Thanks for everything, Bruce said, shaking Maisie's hand before taking his tired cock home.

* * *

No vacancy notice was posted for the replacement of Rose, the head trainer.

Bruce's PA placed his short statement on the company's website pages that Maisie Lott, B. Ed (Hon.) had been appointed the new head of corporate training, taking effect from Rose Gardiner's farewell on March 14.

Maisie hadn't applied for the position or even been requested to be interviewed for it, but had planned sneakily for such huge promotion by making Bruce so appreciative of her skills and sensitivity for the benefit if his manhood that he felt obliged to reward her somehow.

There was no objection to the appointment. Everyone in the know was aware that in just one year, Maisie had become a star trainer and everyone who believed they were in the know assumed Maisie had been fucking Bruce to grab the position.

That's really how things in big business work, as the reality is everyone employed in big business has the talent to progress.

The appointment was published in a single sentence in the pages of business section of next morning's newspapers Maisie father called her excitedly and said her mother required her home for dinner on Saturday night at 7.00.

"Okay," Maisie told Owen dutifully.

She arrived home for the first time in five months and Owen looked virtually the same but her mother, fucking wow!

"Wow, mum"

"What?" asked her mother, as if she didn't know.

"You have a stylish hair shape with blonde highlight colouring, you have lost weight for your betterment, your breasts are, um, more projected and alive and..."

"You mother is in a women-have-sex group, no men."

For a moment, the two women looked at Owen stonily.

"Oh mum, you really have modernized. Do I know any of the women?"

"I think not, they are all regulars at my church."

Maisie kissed her mother and hugging her said she was so excited about her mother's progress in life.

"Progress," Owen snorted.

"Yes dad, your wife has jumped in with open arms into something that's making her happy. She's found deep affinity with a bunch of like-minded women that is unbelievable, even to me. And what do you do for sex?"

"I still get it from you mother whenever I hit her on the hip in bed."

"Well, at least that's something. Have you tried it on the table among the dirty dinner plates?"

"Don't be such a pig, Maisie. I guess you are responsible for this new-found madness in your mother."

"Who's mom's best friend at church dad?"

"The pastor's wife."

"Ah."

"What does 'ah' mean."

"You know what it means dad, ah is just a verbal expression of surprise. allowing one to figure out carefully whatever preceded it."

"Is that so. Well, I'm off to bed."

"Dad, we haven't had dinner yet," Maisie said, pulling two bottles of chilled French Champagne from her cooler bag.

"Yummy," his now bi-sexual wife cried. "Let's party and you can tell us how your managed to swing this big promotion after just 13 months on the job, darling."

Later, after Maisie and Owen put Emily to bed, she led Owen to the TV room and turned up the sound to eliminate any risk of being overheard.

"Dad, I need to talk to your seriously. Mum's outlook and actions towards life have changed and you haven't changed with her, which obviously is bugging you and you're at risk of turning into a grumpy ageing man."

"How do you suggest I change, begin putting sailing ship scaled models in glass bottles?"

"My suggestion is getting yourself a girlfriend, not necessarily to fuck but someone to go out with and have fun and company with when mum with out with the girls."

"Christ Maisie, you have no idea. How the fuck can a guy like me get an alternative woman?"

"I didn't suggest an alternative woman, I'm suggesting a new female very close friend."

"But I don't know any potential such women."

"Bullshit, you have lived in this neighbourhood all your married life. They will be heaps of likely women to start up a friendship with."

"And that's bullshit, Maisie and you know it. Name me one."

"Mrs Stewart,"

"What, your old babysitter?"

"Yes, I still used to meet her occasionally at Meg's teashop until I left home."

Owen rubbed a hand over his chin and that told Maisie she'd rung his bell but there was a problem.

"She's not my type."

"What is your type, dad?"

"I have no idea. Who are you calling?"

"Mrs Stewart."

"But it's almost midnight."

Maisie sighed and told Owen to get a life, it was only 8.50 p.m.

"Hi Liz, it's Maisie, home for dinner to celebrate my promotion at work. Have you seen mum, lately?"

"Yes, that'd correct. She's had a make-over and yes, she has become a bit of a glad-fly, and as a result dad has become a bit lonely as the women's group she's in at church meet three afternoons a week. I've suggested to dad that he asks you to meet him at Meg's Tearooms for a chat but he's too shy to ask. What say you?"

"Oh, that's great, dad is here with me now. Dad, Mrs Stewart invites you to join her for tea tomorrow at 2.30 at Meg's, is that okay with you?"

"He's nodded yes, quite vigorously Liz, which suggests he's very pleased. Thanks for being so kind and he'll be fine once he's touched base with you. He feels a little wounded. What's that, you won't mind him touching you? Oh Liz, that's the kind of cheer-up treatment that he'd enjoy hearing. He likes jokes. Oh, you weren't joking. Liz, I can see a good friendship coming between you two. He's aware that you are also married. Bye luv."