Chapter 1
Wilson McRae had come to the city to find a good-paying job because his parents had financially assisted his brother, eight years his senior, into taking over the family beef rearing and cropping farm.
They agreed it was unfair but said their decision was based on ensuring a retirement income from the farming profits, shared 50-50 between his parents and his brother.
Brother Malcolm, the tight-arse, had only offered Wilson a reduction in weekly wage to the local average level paid to farm workers plus loss of seniority as foreman with its premium payment of 100 bucks a week.
"Sorry Bro," Malcolm said, hard-eyed. "I'm heavily into debt and need to run on a tight budget."
Wilson said defensively, "Cut out smoking weed (marijuana) and you could afford to keep me on at my present status and with the $100 premium."
"Fuck off, you complaining weasel," growled big brother.
Wilson walked away sullenly and after midnight, loaded his desired possessions into the pickup his parents had given him four years earlier for his 21st birthday and doing what had been suggested, he fucked off.
It was Saturday and he headed from the southern hills of Hawkes Bay straight for Auckland, 280 miles to the north without saying goodbye to anyone including his parents who he felt had disinherited him by signing over the farm to Malcolm at a heavily reduced price.
Five and a half hours later, he arrived in the Auckland suburb of Ponsonby just before 9.00 and the office of the real estate office he looked across the street opened its doors at the start of its business day. A babe in a pencil-black skirt and long legs, wearing a white shirt with stiff collar and black curled hair, some of it almost reaching down to the side of her boobs, looked across at him.
He continued staring, she waved and turned quickly and disappeared inside.
Wilson entered the office. The young woman he'd glimpsed earlier was sitting behind the reception desk, smiled and said hi.
"Good morning. I'm looking for a room to rent."
"What, here in Ponsonby?"
"Yeah, and fairly cheap as I've trundled up from inland of Napier overnight to settle here. I used to visit my maternal grandma here in Ponsonby most summers but she'd dead now."
"Shouldn't you have used the term she's passed on?"
"I'm from cattle country and we call a spade a spade, not a pussy-footing alternative."
She laughed.
He stared and said she had great teeth and she said he needed a shave and a hair-cut.
"Ouch."
She laughed and said he was funny.
"Coffee Nicole?" he asked, reading her name-tag.
Without hesitation, she called to another woman who'd just arrived at her desk and said that she was ducking out for 10 (going out for ten minutes) for coffee with a rental prospect.
"Um, I'll go with him for coffee while you look after callers."
"Naughty lady Kim, you're the mother of two."
"Oh, bugger. Okay, why not take twenty and in that time, you might land a date."
As the couple walked out of the agency, he said to Nicole, "My name is Wilson. You babes are interestingly chatty and informal."
"How can Kim be a babe, she's thirty-eight?"
"I've never put an arbitrary age limit on when babes ceased being babes and I rather think no one ever has. I believe the term means sexually attractive and therefore Kim can be called a babe as she looks great for her age and has a beaut pair of 36's."
"Oh, does she. What size are mine?"
Nicole cupped her boobs briefly and Wilson took his time staring at them.
"Well?"
"I'd rather not say to avoid the risk of having my nose swatted by you. No guy looks good with a bloodied nose."
"Skilfully answered," she smiled as they entered a cafe four shops along from the real estate agency office.
Nicole wanted only a short black coffee and he said, "Ah, you're controlling your diet. Perhaps you are scared of your 34B's becoming C-size."
"Omigod, you can read my mind as well as my body," she said, faking a laugh.
"You are closely the size of my girlfriend I've left behind in coming to Auckland. She was dieting and then I found an article on the Internet stating a very active sex life can hugely assist young women to control their weight and oh, boy, did I benefit."
Nicole slapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her burst of huge giggling.
Gaining control, she said, "Omigod, you're not funny; you're hilarious."
Smiling, Wilson suggested that Nicole go to an empty table and he went to the counter and ordered two coffees and two slices of cake.
He placed the two plates on the table and Nicole said carefully, "And what is this?"
"A slice of every low-calorie spiced apple-cardamom coffee cake, especially made for people dieting, according to the notice beside it. The apple and the ginger largely cancel out the calories. Do not be afraid. Please eat when our coffee arrives."
"Okay, I will. But if I find even the tiniest weight gain on my breasts, I'll come after you in vengeance."
"Oh good, you are almost guaranteed to find me in bed from 9.30."
"That's uncalled for," Nicole said scowling. "I have a new boyfriend."
"It was only meant as a helpful suggestion. I mean, you can flagellate me in my bed without feeling its necessary to have sex with me"
She largely managed to supress her smile.
Nicole pulled out her phone and made a call.
"Mrs Westmore, is John still in the UK?"
"Oh good, and I hope he's doing well in his advance studies. Look, I have a young man off a farm who is looking for a room to rent and wonder if you and your husband would like to rent John's room to him if he measures up to your inspection."
"You would consider that and you are both home this morning. Well, I'll send Wilson to you and if he appears fine to you, you set the rental terms and there will be no fee payable to the firm I work for as I'm doing this because the young chap has driven through the night from Napier and needs sleep, I should think."
"Oh good, we are just having coffee at present and I'll then send him to you. Thanks Mrs Westmore and yes, I agree, having company in the house again will be welcomed by your both. No, I'm sorry, I don't know if he drinks alcohol or smokes. Just ask him what you wish to know. He's very friendly, typical of a country boy. Bye."
She turned to Wilson smiling.
"The Westmore's are bound to provide you with a bedroom and meals if you wish. I know them rather well as Mrs Westmore is very friendly with mum and both females were raised on farms. They live directly opposite our family home."
"Oh great, I hope it pans out for me. I can then check your boobs each day to ensure they are not fattening."
Nicole made no reply to that comment but eyed Wilson thoughtfully.
He observed that and thought with country boy simplicity that she may have been thinking he could be a great fuck.
He smiled.
She asked what was he thinking and coloured when he said airily, "Oh, nothing."
Chapter 2
Wilson settled into the Westmore's comfortable home virtually seamlessly as the couple were friendly and made no attempt to saddle him with house rules. Grateful to be living in a place that he could regard as 'home', Wilson kept his room tidy and helped around the house and soon was regularly filling and emptying the dish-washer.
On the morning after he moved in, Wilson knocked on Joan and Stan's slightly open bedroom door just after 9.00 and announced, "I have the delivered Sunday newspaper, would you like it?"
"Yes, please Wilson, bring it in," Stan said and they both said tea when offered a cuppa of their choice.
He arrived with tea and toast, butter and jam and peanut butter on a tray and Joan said, "Wilson, already you are showing signs of being very helpful and considerate. We will love having your staying here."
"And you two are already making me feel very comfortable here," Wilson said. "I'll be happy to mow your lawns and keep the hedges trimmed."
"Thanks for the offer but we have a firm on contract that attends to the exterior upkeep of the property, making it one of the best-maintained properties in the street," Stan said.
