The (Fat and) Happy Hooker Ch. 16

Epilogue

Benjamin waited his 30 days before he became, you should pardon the expression, a motherfucker. On that 31st day, well, on the night of the 31st day, Jacob and Marta, and Benjamin and I went on a double date. It was dinner and dancing and we laughed a lot. During our month we had all become comfortable with our new relationship. By tonight we were four adults who understood that we would be sharing different beds than we had been.

Dinner was good and none of us were what you'd call weight watchers. but there was just a hint of, well, awkwardness. The little double-entendre jokes fell a little flat. Things like that.

At the nightclub later, when we got out of the car, I moved quickly and took Jacob's arm, doing that two-hands-on-the-arm thing to show my possession. Marta did the same thing with her son and we went in for what turned out to be one of the nicest nights of my life.

We found a table and I took Marta's hand and said, "Be right back boys."

In the bathroom, I said, "Are you sure about this?"

Marta didn't hesitate. "Yes," she said, "God help me, yes. I haven't thought about anything else all week."

"Okay," I said, and reached under the skirt I was wearing and started squirming out of my panties.

"Well?" I said, looking at her as I bent in that way we've all done to push them down and step out of them.

She giggled then and started taking hers off. I watched her squirm and liked that her panties were bright blue and sheer.

"Now," I said, touching my face, and checking my lipstick in the mirror, "When we get back to the table ask Benjamin to dance and give them to him. Don't make a production of it, but don't try to hide what you're doing." I giggled and added, "It's a rush."

Back at the table I held out my hand to Jacob, my panties hanging from my fingers, and said, "Dance with me."

He grinned, accepted my panties, stood, carefully folded them, he actually did make a production of it, put them in his pocket, and then walked me onto the dance floor. I didn't want to be too obvious, but I watched as Benjamin accepted his mother's panties, smiled, stood, and led her onto the dance floor. For the rest of the night, it was about half and half, which man I danced with. And that set the tone for our life together.

For the next five years we lived as, well, a group marriage is a good way to describe it. In our marriage, Marta and I were the wives and a good wife never says "no." Clothes, around the house, were considered optional and like as not, one or both of us would greet our men with a smile and a beer, dressed in nothing but skin when they got home, Jacob from work, and Benjamin from school.

I was pleased and proud that Benjamin chose me most nights. About three-quarters of the time it would be me he took to bed as we said good night. There were, however, obviously some severe mommy issues at work. He would take his mother to bed on weekends often, after the beer and marijuana and sometimes other stimulants, Jacob seemed to have a connection to a cocaine dealer.

Not always, but often enough that it wasn't rare, Jacob and I would hear the unmistakable sounds of rough sex after Benjamin and Marta had gone to bed for the night. In fact, the only real cruelty I saw from Benjamin was with Marta. He seemed to truly enjoy spanking her as Jacob and I watched. But, then again, she seemed to enjoy it too.

As always happens, though, the good thing came to an end.

Benjamin finished his last year of high school and then four years of college. He opted to stay in town and attend the local campus of the State College system. He was majoring in computer science, often saying things like he intended to make Mark Zuckerburg look like the brainless fop he was. I couldn't help him with that stuff, but I flatter myself that his 4.0 grade point average was helped, at least in part, by my tutoring in English and History.

But when he graduated, Magna Cum Laude I'm proud to say, missing the chance to be class Valedictorian by a weird formula understood only by education administrators, I knew it was time to move on. Benjamin needed to be able to live his own life and Jacob and Marta had certainly learned everything I could teach them.

So I left. Jacob had been good for his word in our original deal and had carefully invested my "salary" along with his matching, and I was left, if not "wealthy," very comfortable. I paid cash for my little house here in south Alabama, far enough away from the beaches I love to avoid the outrageously high prices associated with being nearer the water and live comfortably on the income my tidy nest egg provides.

As my parting gift, among many tears, Jacob gave me the keys to a two-year-old Cadillac CTS, Marta gave me a String of Hearts plant and said to think of them whenever I saw one of the hearts, and Benjamin gave me a gold necklace featuring the word "Teacher." I gave them tears and orgasms before loading into my new car and heading south to catch up with my small "Pod" container that contained my few belongings, mostly clothes, that were being delivered to my new house.

Yes, I was crying as I left.

I didn't return to The Profession. I date sometimes and somewhere deep in my heart, I like to think "Mr. Right" will come into my life. But so far, he hasn't so I date and still never say "no."

I had been in my new house for a little over three years when I got an invitation to Benjamin's wedding, something that surprised me.

I flew and was met by Jacob and Marta and when we got to their house we spent the afternoon in a tangle of bodies.

That evening we went to the rehearsal dinner to which I had been invited much to my surprise. Benjamin greeted me and introduced me to Rachel, his bride-to-be. She was a butterball of a Jewish girl with her black, curly hair, round face, cupid bow mouth, and wonderful smile. They were making the rounds though and so I talked with Jacob and Marta and a few of Benjamin's friends that I had met over time.

I was surprised when I went to the bathroom and Rachel followed me.

She touched my arm and I turned, not sure what to expect.

"You're the one, right?" she asked.

I smiled. It was obvious what she meant and, well, it's not like I was ashamed of what Benjamin and I had.

"Yes," I said, showing my best smile.

She smiled then and threw her arms around me.

"Thank you," she said and I couldn't stop the laugh.

"You're quite welcome, dear," I said.

She pushed me to arm's length, held my eyes for a few seconds, and asked, "Would you teach me?"

I smiled and said, "No, Rachel, I won't."

There was one of those times when a word you see written but have never said in your normal conversation fits, and this was one. She looked "crestfallen."

I touched her arm lightly and said, "No, Rachel, I won't teach you because you don't need it. You love Benjamin, and he knows everything I do. Well, he knows most of what I do. Just listen to him and remember this - good sex is often messy but never dirty."

She giggled and said, "He says that. Now I know where he learned it."

"Oh," I said, "I will give you one little tip."

"What's that?" she asked, making me chuckle.

"Tomorrow, leave your panties in the drawer, and when he does the garter removal thing, make sure to keep your dress up and give the world a peek," I said.

Her eyes got big, she giggled, and she left.

Jacob, Marta, and I had a return match that night. Well, mostly Marta and I had a return match, giving each other orgasms until we were exhausted, while Jacob watched. We finished with me sitting on his face, Marta riding him cowgirl fashion, and both of us kissing as we shared a final three-way orgasm that was excellent.

The wedding itself was as incomprehensible as weddings always are in a culture that is not your own. They did the smash-the-glass thing and the carried-around-on-chairs thing. I did notice that when he knelt before her to get the garter off of her she pulled her long bridal dress higher than was strictly necessary and she showed a very black, very thick thatch of pubic hair longer than many thought appropriate. I smiled and winked and she winked back.

Final Note

Well, there it is. I'm still the fat and happy hooker, but now I add "retired." I've been living quietly for almost a decade. I bought a little travel trailer and a pickup truck, and I'm working on visiting all 48 of the lower states. I don't particularly diet, but I have trimmed down, holding my weight around 290. I guess I look okay. I manage to get laid regularly although that elusive "Mr. Right" remains, well, elusive.

I hope you enjoyed my story as much as I enjoyed sharing it.

And, as we say down south - - y'all have a real good day now, y'hear.