Chapter 12

That morning, when Bobby appeared at breakfast, Mavis took him aside.

"Bobby, what you do with us in bed ... do you like that?"

Bobby looked at her like she was crazy, and nodded, smiling.

"You do that with Prudence too, don't you ... at her house?" she asked.

Months earlier Bobby would probably have tried to avoid answering. But his relationships with all the women had convinced him that what they ... and he did was acceptable, so he nodded again.

"I'm going to send you over to Prudence's house this morning," said Mavis. "She doesn't know about the rest of us. But if we're all going to share you then she needs to have a place in the schedule too. Are you sure this is all all right with you?" Mavis couldn't believe she was having this conversation.

Bobby nodded again, smiling, and Mavis snorted.

"Why I thought a man might balk is beyond me," she said, half to herself.

Prudence was home, wondering if she could finagle a way to get with Bobby again when he appeared at her door suddenly, with a note from Mavis that said "Saturday is your day with Bobby." She didn't understand at first, but when she looked up from the note to see Bobby undressing, she blushed bright red.

"They know about us?" she asked, aghast.

He smiled and nodded.

"And she sent you here?!" asked Prudence again, unbelieving.

Bobby was naked now, his prick straining toward her. He held out his arms for a hug.

Prudence decided not to ask any more questions. Dropping her housedress was simple. Getting to the bed without stopping to kiss him took more self control.

Life in Milleson House went on, much as it had in the past, but vastly different too. Though times were hard, and the war pulled at everyone's spirits, for Mavis, Meg, Sally and Prudence, life now had hope, and joy and love that made each day something to look forward to. While all of the women wanted to make love with Bobby much more frequently than once a week, all four women treated that experience like chocolate, or sugar, or any of the other treats that were rationed at that time in American life. They accepted the ache of anticipation they endured each time they looked at Bobby, or worked beside him, letting the anticipation build until it was their turn to lie with him and submerge themselves in his hot embrace and spurting penis.

That one planning session notwithstanding, the women were too inhibited by the rules of polite discourse to discuss their relationships with Bobby in the open. While all of the participants knew the schedule, and made accommodations for that schedule, there was no public discussion about what went on behind the doors that the women pulled Bobby through.

Only Donna had no idea of the underlying relationships that were going on. Meg or Sally continued to give him his bath, when it became apparent that changing the routine would alert Donna that something had happened. But now, other than perhaps a quick blow job, they controlled what happened in the bathroom, saving their lust for a time when they could welcome it with open arms.

The women took what they could get ... gratefully and with vigor.

Bobby ate more, took more naps, and looked forward to the nights. His body strengthened as his testosterone levels were raised by his amorous activities. He was eminently qualified for the role he was asked to play.

The cabinet maker was elated with the quality of work that Bobby did for him in the afternoons. The fact that the teacher still wanted to work with him two days a week bothered him only because that meant Bobby couldn't produce quite as much of his detailed and gorgeous carvings. Bobby grasped the importance of riffle files immediately, and his carvings soon took on the professional appearance of a master craftsman. His work began to be requested, and a bank account was opened in his name. It took three weeks for Bobby to understand (and accept, really) what a bank was, and that he actually had money in that facility that was his, and which he could access for his own wants.

In short, all was well in Bobby's little microcosm of human relationships for the first time in his life. If he hadn't reached level five of Mister Maslow's pyramid, he wasn't far from it.

As was stated at the beginning of this tale, however, life is a struggle. The good fortune that had descended on Milleson house couldn't last forever.

And it did not.

On the seventh of May, 1945, which just happened to be Sally's scheduled day for hot sex with Bobby, Germany surrendered unconditionally to the Allied forces. The next day was declared Victory in Europe day and the whole country celebrated.

America, including those few Americans in Hampstead Nebraska, went nuts.

What Americans in general did, that day, is well documented. What happened in Hampstead Nebraska, a mere footnote compared to larger events, was that Sally Winston, an unmarried woman of age twenty-three, lay with her lover, Bobby Martin, a supposedly mute orphan boy, and got thoroughly pregnant. The euphoria of Germany's surrender could be argued to have, in some part, been responsible. For one thing, she was joyous to her very core when she let Bobby spurt her belly full of his virile sperm. Some doctors claim that a woman who is relaxed and happy is more fertile than one who is not. For another, she did not think about where she was in her monthly cycle, which had never been regular, but which she still tried to guess at before she took Bobby's sperm into her womb. On those days when she thought it might be dangerous, she simply sucked down his delicious treat in her throat. But on this day, she was so happy that she just wanted to celebrate ... and celebrate she did, getting with child in the process.

Germany's surrender had other consequences as well. Fresh troops being sent there to fight, ended up relieving weary combat troops, who were pulled out for badly needed rest and relaxation before being shifted to the Pacific Theater, where the war was decidedly not over. The fresh troops, and those who managed to stay in Germany and France, took up occupation duties.

That created two situations that would, in time, change everything in Milleson House.

The first was that Prudence received official notification that her husband was seeking a divorce. She had known this would happen, and had not sought it herself only because she still depended on his income, at least to some extent. Still she was both hurt and angry. She assuaged her anger and hurt in Bobby's arms ... extensively. She missed her very next period, which was supposed to have arrived the middle of June.

The second was that, in early June, Donna got a letter from her son, Wally, that said he was being given leave to come home. He knew he would only be able to stay for thirty days, and that he would have to go somewhere after that, but didn't know where that was. He made oblique mention that his two best friends, one of whom had saved his life, were coming with him because they had nowhere else, really, to go.

The celebrations carried into bed with Bobby. For Rachel, who now knew she was pregnant, and Prudence, who suspected she was in the same situation, Their angst about that was more easily subdued as they joined in the national feeling that things were looking up. For the rest, the euphoria about the war's end, at least in Europe, made their time with Bobby just that much sweeter. Of them all, only Donna had no outlet for her intense joy - that her son was coming home.

It was on a Saturday, mid morning, when the excitement and strain got to Donna as she paced in her lonely farm house. She thought of things that needed to be done around the house, but couldn't get motivated to do any of them. Instead, on impulse, she decided to go visit Pru.

That, in itself, wasn't so strange. She had a close bond with Pru because she knew what it was like to lose a husband, even though Pru had lost hers in a totally different way than Donna had. She had visited Prudence many times in the past, but it had slacked off during the cold winter months. She hurried toward's Pru's house, anticipating taking her mind off the anguish of waiting for her son's homecoming by filling the morning with idle chat.

It also wasn't unusual for her to just open the door and walk into Pru's tiny house. She simply called out merrily as she did so.

She was completely and utterly unprepared to find Pru, naked, flat on her back, legs spread, with a man lunging between those legs as Pru moaned her pleasure. And as her numb mind recognized who that man was, with his cock obviously buried deep in Pru's belly, her mind struggled to make sense of it all.

Two faces turned to look at her as she stood in the open doorway. Pru's expression flashed to one of horror. Bobby simply smiled his usual welcoming smile.

"What are you doing?!" Donna screeched.

Prudence's face thawed and she pushed Bobby off of her. She looked at her friend, who stood frozen, gasping for air like she had run as fast as she could, for as long as she could.

"What are you doing?" Donna croaked, this time, her voice taking on a whine.

Prudence had no idea what to say, so she said nothing. She put her dressing gown on and belted it to cover her nakedness. Then she went to Donna and pulled her gently into the house and closed the door.

"You're married!" yipped Donna.

This was something Prudence could talk about. "You know good and well that I'm not married any longer, or won't be soon. Don't try to make me feel bad," she said, defensive now.

"But ... but ... that's Bobby!" squeaked Donna, staring at Bobby, who sat, still naked, Indian style on the bed, watching the two women with interest. He was unashamed of his nakedness, and the ease with which he sat there made the situation seem all the more odd to Donna.

"Yes, that's Bobby," agreed Pru. "Now come in and sit down."

"What?" asked Donna, looking at Pru for the first time since she'd put on her dressing gown.

"Come in and sit down," said Pru, like she was talking to a child.

Donna's mind was beginning to adapt. What her eyes had told her was going on was so bizarre that she had tried to deny them. But, as she looked at Bobby her mind began to realize that what she had seen was real.

"You can't do that," she said, her voice a whisper.

"I already have, so you may as well not take that attitude," said Prudence. Her attitude about this was beginning to change too. Instead of shame, which she knew she should feel, the only thing she was feeling was fear and anger that it might be taken away from her.

"You could get pregnant," said Donna, reaching with her mind for something pragmatic to talk about.

"I already am ... I think," said Prudence.

"What?!" gasped Donna.

"We've been ... doing this ... for some time now," said Prudence. "And you know my husband has abandoned me. I'll be divorced soon. If I get nothing else out of this damned war, I'll at least get the baby that that bastard couldn't give me before he went away and found another woman." She felt hot with anger now. "And it serves him right that I'm going to have Bobby's baby instead of his!" she said firmly.

"But what will Mavis say?" asked Donna. This was too strange, and her mind flitted about, going from one concept to another.

Prudence thought it might be too much for Donna to grasp if she admitted that all the rest of the women were doing the same thing with Bobby. "I don't know," said Pru quietly. "I haven't told her yet." That was, technically true. Pru had not confided in anyone that she thought she might be pregnant.

"I don't understand any of this," moaned Donna, sitting down in a chair.

For lack of anything else to say, Prudence spilled her guts about that first time with Bobby had come about, and how she had gotten so excited in the bathroom, and was so upset about her husband's abandonment, that she had brought Bobby home and their relationship had started.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked wounded.

"I didn't know how you'd react," admitted Prudence. "You might have complained, or forbidden us, or even told others."

"How should I react?" asked Donna heatedly. "Sneaking around behind my back like that! Having sex with a boy! What were you thinking?!" she shouted.

Prudence expected this from her friend. But her desire to maintain the pleasure she shared with Bobby made her fight to keep that.

"He makes me happy, Donna!" she said back forcefully. "He makes me feel loved! Is that such a terrible thing?" she asked earnestly.

"But ... you can't just ... have sex with him!" said Donna, her voice lower.

"Why not?" asked Pru, yearning in her voice. "Bobby certainly doesn't mind." She swiveled her head to him. "Do you Bobby?"

Bobby shook his head and smiled.

Donna looked at him in disbelief. "But he's just a boy!" she said.

Prudence straightened her shoulders. "No he's not," she said. "He's as much a man as your son is. He'll be seventeen in just months. He's all man when he's with me."

Prudence's response made Donna think again about what she'd seen when she opened the door. She remembered something now that she hadn't realized or thought about. When Prudence had pushed Bobby off of her and he'd gotten to his knees, his penis had been long and straight and hard, shiny with the moisture they had created. He had looked like a man right then! She felt something twist in her loins as she remembered how long and hard he had looked. Her husband had been short, and never that ... hard looking. That was the kind of penis that could easily make babies ... had made one in Prudence, in fact.

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