The Unexpected
Copyright© 2025 by Technocracy
Chapter 11
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 11 - "If you do not expect the unexpected, you will not find it; for it is hard to be sought out, and difficult." -- Heraclitus of Ephesus
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction
Needham, Ma - 12 August 2002
Benny was not arguing with Andrea. He was listening to Andrea argue with herself. Her soliloquy ranged from intense to whimsical. Benny sat back on Andrea’s couch, listening, waiting, not certain what statements would require a response.
“ ... I guess not ... No, this will not happen, Benny. A sixteen year-old girl should not live in a college dorm.”
Andrea paused, expecting to Benny to pick a side to her self-answering, essentially recursive, argument. Benny acquiesced with a shrug, voicing a non-opinion.
“Andy, I do not believe it to be an issue. Lizzy will be on the other side of the metro area, not in a different state. There are two things favoring her safety, Lizzy will be seventeen shortly, and she will enter BU as a third-year student, so can be housed in upper-classmen dorms.”
“My love, please, be with me on this. I’ve seen and heard too much about campus life.”
Benny, never having been a part of any side to this ‘argument’, stated as devil’s advocate.
“What you have seen is ‘Animal House’ hyperbole. I never experienced anything close to that during my undergraduate years.”
Andrea placed her hand on Benny’s left cheek, gently caressing his short beard.
“We may be wrong about this. What if this is not right for my little girl?”
Benny softened at Andrea’s touch. Benny’s gaze into her dark-brown eyes blanked his mind of any countering to her pseudo-argument, but he did remain the devil’s advocate.
“As you wish, Andy. But we still have yet to determine how Lizzy will commute to BU. Public rail is time-consumptive, and perhaps unsafe. She could use my truck, but it would require a significant period for her to prepare and test for a driver’s license.”
“I guess that I just don’t want my girl to leave, Benny. I’ll be so lonely.”
“You have me, Andy.”
“Whenever you are not chest deep in electrical equipment or computers, or are not out running circles around Massachusetts, or are not reading a hundred books a week, or...”
“What if I move in here?”
“Benny!? You would move in and live with me?”
“I would, Andy.”
Andrea dropped onto Benny’s lap, facing him and wrapping her arms and legs around his torso. Her reaction was not expected. When a similar memory of Charlotte Beckman flashed, Benny’s arms tightened around Andrea after convincing himself that Andrea was not Charlotte, and had never indicated a moral lapse.
“I love you, Doctor Benson James Harrison.”
Benny was wondering how Andrea had come to know his middle name, but only for the time it took to carry her into the bedroom.
Needham, Ma - 28 Sept 2002
The previous weeks of living in the same apartment with Andrea had been an education in the varied types and methodologies of intimacy. Benny was becoming increasingly fascinated with the mundane daily activities of life with Andrea. Unlike Benny’s previous attempt, he stood at the edge of understanding human relationships, and how the commonality and simplicity of daily routine can charge life with meaning. Such as washing the dishes the previous evening. He and Andrea stood side by side, frequently touching as they washed and dried and stacked dishes, talking softly, under the ionized glow of the store’s neon sign lights.
Benny’s realization was that anything before this was but a simple dalliance. Benny was experiencing the beauty of being human. It was another experience with sublime, not as an adjective, but as a noun. He was also beginning to understand the relationship’s crux he had observed, that makes the fabric of Doris and Harry.
“You are burning daylight...”
“I’ll have to ask Doris about Harry’s video rentals; he needs to rent something other than John Wayne cowboy movies.”
Benny watched Andrea methodically apply clothes to her body. He had found that watching a woman getting dressed had the same level of intrigue and erotica as watching a woman undress. It did not bother Benny that this was not logical, because it was a truth.
Benny was particularly fascinated by her sports bra. It was the only brassier she owned, that did not seem to be designed by a sadistic engineer. Benny further posited why women tolerated so many fantastically baroque and inefficent clothing modes and designs.
Andrea was always aware of Benny’s eyes. She treasured his blue eyes on her self. Andrea knew that Benny was a creature of logic, his mind a self-built problem-solving machine. More than a month of life together provided Andrea with a deeper glimpse into Benny’s human elementals. She had come to appreciate his sincere and to-the-point communications; he did not mince words, and he did not take great issue with the implied or the nuanced.
“Andy, you are a beautiful woman. But I will assume that you are aware of that.”
“Thank you. Why would you assume that?”
“You have a mirror. You do not need me to state the obvious.”
“But I do, my love.”
“A woman needs serial notifications of such?”
“Only from the man she loves.”
“Interesting.”
“You and Harry watch too many Star Trek re-runs. You sound like Spock.”
“We probably do ... We are five minutes late. Henry will be waiting. How is the new bicycle seat?”
“Much better. Let’s go”
Benny’s morning runs had morphed into a group logistics project. Andrea followed Benny and Henry on her bike until they reached 60 Dedham Street, where she opened up the building, inspected the current state of the premises, and waited for the contractor foremen to give status reports, then phone-conference with Doris on any construction issues. By that time, Henry and Benny had looped back. The return route was variously determined by the trio.
Benny watched Andrea undress, an exhibition that never failed to impress Benny. Andrea smiled at Benny’s rapt gaze.
“Are you going to shower in your clothes?”
Benny was broken out of his mindless focus. He quickly shed his clothes as he watched Andrea slowly walk into the bathroom.
Of all the various modes and methods of intimacy, the simple act of shared showering was one of his two most favored. Turning Andrea away from the shower nozzle, Benny gently spread and massaged the shampoo into Andrea’s hair. After some time working her scalp and hair, Benny pushed his woman under the nozzle, using his hands to thoroughly rinse the shampoo.
Andrea opened her eyes to look for the soap bar, then begin to wash Benny. Benny mirrored the act on Andrea’s body. The morning shower was also an appropiate venue for a particular category of discussions.
“Harry is moving into the other bakery apartment today. It makes no sense for him and his wife to sell their house at this time. Harry’s models have real estate going exponential for the next two to four years.”
“You didn’t know? Harry is getting divorced.”
“Oh? I do hope that his SIG employment did not cause it.”
“Maybe a little. Doris was talking to Michelle. She said that they haven’t had a good relationship for some time. And Michelle said that his wife is an alcoholic mess.”
“I hope that Doris gave Henry good rental terms.”
“She did. Did you know that Brandon and Michelle are going to move in together?”
“That is not unexpected. They seem well-suited for each other. They are both intensely focused and very professional.”
“Did you know that Michelle went to the army parachutist school?”
“Interesting. I will guess that is unusual for females. Army people appear to be different in that way.”
“They are different. Benny, have you heard how they talk among themselves?”
“Yes. Their private discourse can be interesting. And difficult to discern meaning at times. They do seem to value efficient communications.”
“Benny, I should be clean by now. You have washed me several times.”
“I could wash you a million times, Andy.”
Andrea smiled at Benny’s unusual, but welcome, hyperbole.
Needham, Ma - 25 December 2002
A light snow, appropriate for the date, was dusting the northeast coast. Benny refused to emerge from beneath the blankets, into the cold, until Lizzy and Andrea dragged his body out of bed.
The two G4-based computers glistened under the flashing Christmas tree lighting, half unwrapped, as Lizzy fiercely hugged Benny. Benny explained the rationale of Lizzy’s gifts.
“The PowerBook is the titanium model. I want you to take it everywhere; give me a report in about two or three weeks, and a follow-up in a month or two. I am thinking of standardizing on Apple machines for our company desktop use, assuming they are able to keep their BSD true to Unix.”
“Thanks so much, Benny they’re so beautiful. My roomie is going to totally freak with envy. It’s so bling. All my peep will worship at my feet.”
“What language are you speaking?”
“Huh? English. Why?”
“Does that sound like English to you, Andy?”
“Not to worry, my love. It is to be expected.”
“No, mom. Not you. Don’t say it.”
“Yes, sweety. I will say ‘it’. We will expect the unexpected from you.”
Needham, Ma -- 01 January 2003
After a quiet New Year’s eve celebration with Harry and Doris, Benny had poured his woman into his little Toyota truck, then drove across town, accompanied by Andrea’s serenade of Portuguese folk songs. Andrea was not a total sot, but she was tipsy and feeling good.
Benny had briefly considered a very early morning horizontal romp, but after dropping her clothes at her side of the bed, Andrea plopped onto the bed, wrapping herself around Benny, then immediately went unconscious. Benny re-adjusted Andrea to remove pressure from his neck, pulled the covers over the both of them, then entered unconscious bliss while listening to the soft snores of Andrea, feeling her warm breathe on his chest.
Benny watched the day begin, content to remain in bed with Andrea’s body draped over his.
“Mom, Henry wants to know if...”
Lizzy stopped her question as she entered the bedroom, looking at the singular mound under the blankets, formed by Andrea being draped over Benny. Benny pursed his lips to silence Lizzy. Lizzy whispered to Benny.
“Guess that you’re not going to run. I’ll let Henry know ... Did mom nuke her brain last night?”
Andrea stirred, annoyed with her daughter’s noise.
“I did not ‘nuke my brain’ last night ... what does that mean? Benny is paying thousands of dollars so that you can talk strangely?”
“You are ... are both of you naked under that? That’s gross, mom. I’ll tell Henry that you’re both nude and still in bed.
Needham, Ma - 24 April 2003
The four Goldman Sachs executives were of differing opinions per the ad-hoc conference room in Andrea’s store. Two of the executives thought it quaint, and the mark of an efficient organization. One executive thought it to be manipulative. And the senior executive believed the venue to be disgusting and quite below his station.
Doris and Harry were disappointed that all four of the Goldman execs were not pissed about the location of the formal standing brief. Doris delivered a short statement as an intro to Harry’s detailed briefing.
“First the good news. The Bulge Brackets are interested in our IP; such that you people at Goldman Sachs have assigned a group to market our intellectual wares. As you know, Scientific Investments Group reached 240% of Goldman Sachs goals for 2002, and we are already into another bonus period for this quarter.
Andrea pushed a laptop key to progress to the next slide.
“Now the bad news. The world insists on returning to global-level war, and the WTO trade talks have failed. So we will continue to rake in the dirty money from western and east Asian defense-aerospace. We will continue to focus on India, Indonesia, and South Korea defense industries. We also recommend a Goldman shadow. Harry has the specific background statement. Once more, this is company-sensitive. Any leaks external to assigned Goldman Sachs groups will put you in breach and at the mercy of our lawyer.”
Harry grimaced at the ‘dirty’ money qualifier and the lawyer statement, but began his status statement with equanimity.
“The back-drop influencing this is the rapid growth of broadband; that is, trading by the general public will no longer be dependent on dial-up. The other factors will be the fed continuing low rates, and the conflicts in the mid-east, east Europe, north Africa. Our models indicate a recovery limited to the U.S., Japan, Canada, and parts of Latin America. We project a poor recovery for European industry and associated infrastructure. Let’s get to the specifics...”
The following 40 minutes were a rapid-fire presentation of equations, line-charts, org charts, and mind-numbing tables of numbers.
Harry enjoyed the discomfort of the four executives. The executives were beginning to understand that Goldman Sachs, while doing better than most market-makers, had failed to capitalize on the actions of SIG. The senior executive did the arithmetic, realizing that Goldman Sachs had lost out on a market cap differential to represent a lost opportunity of almost one billion dollars for the previous 14 months of possible gross. The resultant bitter taste in the executive’s mouth was not from the, surprisingly, decent coffee.
Needham, Ma -- 26 April 2003
The patrons of Andrea’s store had slowly accumulated an audience of a dozen, listening to the grim stance that Harry had on a future economic reality.
“There’s not gonna be a gold watch and pension waiting for you if you invest all of yourself in a job. Companies are no longer made of people. Corporate America will no longer build things in the future, they will become complicated manipulators of the stock market. So, you, the employee, are not considered an added value to your employer.”
Harry paused for effect, loving the rapt attentions of the neighboring community audience, and the security team. Harry was spreading his gospel of fiscal reality, another of his series of sermons on the mount. He did note, however, that Benny remained behind the counter, playing handsies with Andrea.
“Companies consider employees to be a liability, not an asset. Employees are an inconvenience to be replaced, removed, reduced, optimized, automated, and simplified at the earliest convenience. So if ya believe that you’re important to your boss, this is ‘bout the same as believing that dancing can bring the rain.”
“But things are getting better. Don’t you think so?”
“In economic terms, things are much better. Once the rates start returning to normal, companies will be careful to control expansion. They will always stay beneath capacity to keep costs down.”
Harry continued his evangelical fiscal reality. Harry’s economic truth mode was the most close to spiritualism that Benny has seen him be. And Benny liked this mode. He projected his dim visions without shame.
“When the bubble burst last year, people were thinking 1987, and wondering if the feds were gonna do the same dance to help the big industrialists keep capacity high. Think about it, boys and girls. Greenspan burst the bubble on purpose by choking off the money supply in 2000, then after everybody was doing their best to survive among the burnt cinders of the attacks, and then Enron, Worldcom, and all the other market weirdness, he conned Bush into playing games with tax rates. So the big corporation will always have their cap protected.”
“What does that mean?”
“Capacity? ... Think of it as how much stuff a factory can build in a day. Few businesses want to operate much above 80 per cent capacity. When they get to that point, they find some place to expand where it’s cheaper to build stuff, or they automate at a break-even price-point to control the number of human bodies in the plant.”
“What can be automated?”
“Anything and everything. But it’s not cost-effective to automate most stuff. At least not now. Benny, how long ya think before us human servants will be bowing to our robot masters?”
When the peanut gallery turned to look at Benny, he batted Andrea’s hand away from his butt.
“Uh ... Cannot really predict it with accuracy. Moore’s law. Foreign labor costs. Internal capex. And the other things that you have talked about.”
“How ‘bout a rough time period, assuming existing tech is not yet terminal.”
“Ten years, at optimum adaption rates and funding of basic R&D. But Doris said that there are societal limits to adapting this stuff, so maybe thirty to forty years.”
“There ya have it, folks. Our engineering wizard has rolled the twelve-sided dice; and considering Benny’s experience and wisdom points, I’m gonna have to agree. Within two generations, we’re road-kill on the highway to a global-supply chain ... What’s for dinner, babe?”
Andrea, saw movement from the side of the main check-out counter.
“Miguel! Put that down!”
Miguel Sanchez, with an arm-load of canned meat, ran through the storage area and out the back of the store, with Benny in pursuit. Henry followed Benny out the store and down the alley.
With a sudden burst of speed, once into the straight alley, Benny was in front of the young thief. Benny shoved Miguel to a stop, causing him to drop the stolen wares. Henry caught up to the static stand-off a second later, securing Miguel with his arms twisted behind his back.
“What the heck is your problem, Miguel? You are already in trouble with the cops. Are you trying to go to jail?”
“I don’t care. Call the cops. Let go my arms!”
“Release him, Henry ... I will talk to your brother about this, Miguel.”
“Fuck off!”
Miguel stomped down the alley as Benny collected the heisted merchandise.
Dedham Juvenile Court, Ma -- 01 May 2003
Robert Northrup addressed the Judge.
“Your honor, Miguel Sanchez is seventeen, both parents are deceased, and is in the guardianship of his older brother, Jose Sanchez. He has no history of violence, and was forced out of a public school system that was unwilling to work with a child having dyslexia. We believe that the best interests of the state would be under the recognizance of Mrs Andrea Paucho, the victim of his latest crime.”
“And this will be under a work-release program?”
“Yes, your honor.”
“And what of his education? Is that possible?”
“As I am not an professional educator, sir, I am uncertain what would be possible. But it should be noted that Miguel would be under the direct educational supervision of two men having PhDs from MIT.”
“PhDs? MIT? Why would these men be at this local store?”
“One has a romantic interest with Mrs Paucho. Uh, she’s a widow. The other man is a good friend of Mrs Paucho’s suitor, and is in a business with him.”
The judge saw no use in continuing this case, as he was convinced that a criminal court would have to deal with the boy in the near future.
“I will so order the release of Miguel Sanchez, into the the recognizance of Mrs Andrea Paucho, as per the guardianship of Mister Jose Sanchez, it shall remain. It is further noted that this court will direct a DCF visit within the next 45 days.”
“Thank you, your honor.”
“Mrs Hortstein, what is next?”
The lawyer, Andrea, Jose, and the juvenile defendant where ushered away from the judge as the over-loaded court hurried into the next case.
Jose yanked his younger brother’s arm, expediting the exit from the court room. Jose was more than disappointed in his brother; his anger had been stirred by his brother’s lack of gratitude. He did his best to not lapse into Spanish.
“You do not mess this up. You work for Andrea. You listen to Benny. They are wise and good people. Remember this, and know that I will be at the bakery next door.”
“I’m not nobody’s slave.”
Jose jerked the boy around to face him.
“You are a lousy thief. You could not out-run Doctor Harrison. You could not hide anything from Mrs Paucho. If you want to be a criminal, you had better find someone to teach you the profession. And if you do, you will not live in my home.”
SIG, Needham, Ma -- 22 November 2003
The new center of operations for Scientific Investment Group, LLC, at 60 Dedham Avenue, was not ostentatious. It was functional, and devoid of any airs of affluence. The front entrance was re-built from glass to a solid door, simply labeled with the block-lettered ‘Scientific Investments Group, LLC’. The first-level windows that had not been covered were now behind metal grids that were curtained from within, with the exception of the large pane of thick polycarbonate, replacing the glass of the front-facing office. This front office would have been the space for a receptionist, if the company had such a billet.
Furnishings were not sparse, but it was obvious that style and decorative were not considerations for the build-out of 60 Dedham Avenue. Twenty five grey steel desks, all military issue, had been purchased at the Fort Meade DRMO in Maryland, along with Vietnam-era issues of filing cabinets, credenzas, and desk chairs.
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