Chapter 3: Frieda and the Manshon

I guess this be a good time to tell you about Frieda G. Johnson, housekeeper and a whole lot more. Few don’t know her call her Misses Frieda. Rest us just call her Frieda. Her last name now Reegans, same as me even though all her kids, including mine got her name. I never found what “G” stand for and don’t really care.

I met her for first time when Bertram and Kershaw, those two lawyahs brought me here way back in April 2124 about week after Katrina and I got marry. Everyone looking at the big black car them lawyahs drive to my house on that nice warm morning. They must been real rich cause only few people got car and gas. After crossing the Causeway and going through Covington we drove up a two lane road that wound through green rolling hills and piney woods near Folsom, Louseeana. God help you find town on a map. After turning on several small roads seemed like we in eternal void of piney woods. Finally approached a big iron gate. The lawyer riding shotgun got out, opened the gate, waited for us to drive through then locked gate and got back in car. What should have been a long driveway with pretty flowers be nothing but scraggly crepe myrtle trees and weedy flowers. Then I saw biggest finest house ... manshon ever dreamed. When one them lawyahs said your house got 40 rooms inside I sat there quiet and amazed for few minutes. This manshon was bigger than every grand house on Saint Charles Avenue combine. Inside everything was covered with tarps. Both lawyahs said the tarps protected furniture from sunlight and dust.

While walking through manshon both lawyahs was looking at notebooks while reading about furniture, art and other stuff in each room. Every time I removed a tarp my eyes bugged out. Ain’t never seen or sat on anything that pretty or comftable. Every time they said it was all mine had to pinch the back of my hand prove wasn’t dreaming. Damn! I could see being a servant ... slave here, but no way poor boy like me own this!

We been there about an hour and was getting warm. All that dust make me sneeze. I was feeling closed in, like I really needing fresh air. When I saw those two lawyahs with a sneaky smile and weird eyes I got angry and worry. Oh shit! Was this a set-up? Was they going to kill me? I got real worry and frighten.

Moment see a real fine woman was coming our way with long blond hair and huge breasts gently swaying man monster got riled. Didn’t think it possible for wiman have tits bigger than Katrina’s. Hers stuck out like biggest ripe honeydew melons capped by a dark pink palm-sized circle and almost thumb-size nippies. At time didn’t know why Frieda bother wearing a skirt like that cause so easy seeing her bald cunny under there she look nekid. Damn! Down boy.

Even up close this wiman was not shy or worry three strange men see her nekid. Wiman real quick made our rude eyes look away by talking loud and clear. “I am Frieda G. Johnson, the housekeeper.”

We shook hands and say our names then follow her fine ass to patio.

Didn’t take many words to prove she knew the manshon, my Uncle Charlie and all people live here before the war. Assume three girls was sitting under large umbrella at picnic table on patio was hers. Moment we sat down baked chicken and sweet potatoes was on our plates. Organic celery, carrot and pepper sticks added a healthy touch to the meal. Fresh squeezed lemon-aide and honey cakes topped with fresh fruit for desert made meal real nice. I know Frieda special when she say everything homemade and home grown. Angelle, her baby, look about one year sitting in highchair. Poor baby was ‘spooked’ and didn’t eat much. One she call Zelda, looked somewhere near 4 because she had all her baby teeth and ate rather well. The oldest, Lenora, looked 8 maybe 9 was willowy not yet a wiman or tall as Mommy. Knew best let her tell me why none her three kids had same face, hair, eyes or skin.

While lawyahs and I sat letting food settle older girls play on lawn. Frieda picked up her baby then settle on what lawyahs call chaise lounge. A few moment later Angelle, her baby was happy sucking on a huge milk-filled tit. Seem like baby got full and momma happy her big breasts got empty because both sleeping. Oh shit! Frieda wasn’t sleeping but had head tilt back and eyes glaze over. The only other time I saw a wiman’s eyes do that was ... I run to her side and gently pull baby as Frieda go total limp off somewhere with sex happiness she probably never describe or admit.

Lawyahs say something about meeting other clients in area and left. Damn! I was holding a sleeping baby and watching her kids play while momma gone off dreaming in sex happiness. For minute felt funny then sort of pride and happy like real daddy even though none these girls mine. Watching Frieda sleep give me questions. Her blond hair, blue eyes and nicely tan fair skin meant she white. Baby I holding, Angelle got dark skin, brown eyes and black curly kinky hair had to come from black guy. Zelda, her four-year-old had sort of almond shaped brown eyes, long straight black hair and golden skin meaning her daddy got some China, Japan, Veetmeese or something like. With blue eyes, reddish brown hair and nice tan skin assume Lenora’s father be white. Had to keep all them sort of questions to self until Frieda tell me different.

Seeing an empty chaise lounge and wonder where she gone. When see Frieda squatting by tree know she took comfort before joining us. After she take baby from me and say few stern words both girls stop playing and bring dirty dishes into kitchen. Frieda asked me carry Angelle from big manshon patio to small cottage ways away. Real surprise baby cuddle to me. Inside Frieda gave Angelle a simple sponge bath and fresh diaper. Older girls didn’t blush or care momma tell them to remove they raggedy dress and sponge off. Even Frieda get nekid and wash. All four now laying quiet for nap. Frieda and Angelle on one bed; older girls on bunk beds in other room.

I got hint and slip away. Then remember I left small bag with clothes in car. Was a good hike to front of manshon. Oh shit! Car was gone. Wasn’t much to do but walk around. Saw bunch scraggly trees with bad fruit. Fields was worse, probably ain’t been ploughed for years. Did see few scrawny cattle ain’t ready for dinner table out there. Wonder where chickens was cause know eggs was in honey cakes we ate at lunch. Thought about going in my manshon but didn’t have key. Also remember Frieda and lawyahs say house closed and furniture stay covered until got money for restoring.

About time I wander back to her cabin all were awake. This time see Frieda and older girls wearing two rags hanging from hips. Baby Angelle just got a diaper. As afternoon move on Frieda and I talk. Frieda said they been living in small two-bedroom cottage since war began over five year past. As sky get colors Frieda bring out leftovers from lunch. If I hadn’t been there the leftovers from lunch would have been a nice meal for them. Four pieces of chicken between five people meant somebody got less than wanted. I bucked up, ate more celery, carrot and pepper sticks.

After dinner Frieda get nekid, step into bathroom and sponge off three girls then send them to bed. Older girls soon sleeping with nothing but sheet covering them. Frieda sitting on bed with Angelle sucking her titties again. Soon Angelle asleep and house quiet. Look around and see Frieda sitting at the kitchen table with two bowls in front of her. On nice night no need for ceiling fan above be on but know really needed come summer. Poor Frieda got pain look on her face. Before I ask she look straight at me and ask, “Would you do me a favor?”

“Sure. What you need done?”

“Good. Take your shirt off then thoroughly wash your hands, arms and body. When you’re clean stand behind me.”

Seemed easy enough. A few minute later I standing back her while she tugging me closer. When she pull my hands to her melon-size tits I thinking she wants some lovey-dovey. Wrong! She getting sort of angry and moving my hands harsh until her big fat thumb-size nipples be between my middle and ring fingers. When she say squeeze, I know she want some lovey-dovey. Wrong again. A quick reach of her hands brung those bowls close to her tits. Then her hands squeeze mine. “That’s it! Now squeeze harder and faster.”

The first time I hear the splat-spalt of milk coming from her thumb-size nippies into them bowls my jaw drops.

Frieda get all uppity and firmly say, “Don’t stop! Keep squeezing!”

Damn! I was milking a cow ... wiman.

Frieda was breathing a little harder, deeper and seem happier off somewhere like wiman getting little bit of lovey-dovey. I wanted to say something but just kept silent and squeezing milk from her tits. Every squeeze now squirting milk into them bowls making more like hiss sound. Two three time I had to stop and stretch arm and fingers. Each time Frieda get upset then smile when my hands squeezing her tits again. Got feeling Frieda want more milk squeeze out even though both bowls almost full. When she put her hands on mine and smile knew was stopping time. Moment later she take my hands away, stand up and start filling four clean bottles. Two bottles milk went into freezer and two into fridge. Meanwhile Frieda looked pleased but not totally relieved. “Thank you. I feel much better.”