The Truth

Women Study

Part V

The Truth

Norma, here!

I've gone through Cowboy Bowen's little memoir and I think it is interesting but it is neither complete--nor entirely true!

Remember Bowen's Female Rule #1? It goes: Never Tell A Man Everything? O.K., here's the real story. I mean, if you bear in mind that Female Rule#1 is always in play,: Don't Always Tell Him Everything, But Make Him Think You Have! I can't talk for Bowen.

I'm going to start at in the middle, though you already know from Bowen some of the part about our success in the big city and my business and my lesbian relationships.

When we hit town in "The Big City", we were pretty much out of cash. After the wedding, my father sent me off--to be truthful, cut me loose--without a cent. It sounds cruel, but his philosophy was that man takes care of his wife or someone else will. It was up to Bowen to do for me and, of course as it turned out, I got to do for us. The farm belonged to him and later to my two brothers, though only one of them stuck with the family business. And I'm sure that if my marriage to Bowen had "Come a Cropper", as the farmers say, my dad would have taken me back with open arms.

Cowboy Bowen a little bit of money but that went fast, prices being what they are in "The Big City ". In any event, we did get into this two-bedroom apartment that worked for Bowen, Mona, and me but Bowen's recollection of the "handyman" thing is way off.

Now, I was--and am still--good with tools. I can do lots of carpentry, painting, and plumbing work and I'm pretty good at it, if I say so myself. But that was only part of what I had to do to get a break on our rent. The building "Super" who just wanted to make his job easier enlisted my skills in more ways than one. I think you get it--I traded blow jobs and repair work for rent reduction. He wanted me to throw in some actual fucking but...well...I blew him off on that, so to speak. But he was content with semi-weekly blow jobs and that kept us in that apartment until financial conditions improved.

That lecherous "Super" also had eyes on Mona. I disabused him of that idea in ten seconds. Hammer in hand, I explained to him that Mona, had no interest in men and I would use my carpentry skills on his head if he made any moves on her. He got the point or, rather the peen.

I did get a job at the building contractor's company. And, yes, I was very good at being an office manager. But what Bowen didn't know was that part of my value to the company was helping the contractor acquire jobs. Yes, the way I did that was to "sweeten" the contractor's bid by fucking the potential client--and throwing a blow job or two long the way. My boss didn't expect this on every deal but he knew the ones where it would, to coin a phrase, "turn the trick". He wasn't beyond expecting a little "nob polishing" himself and I helped him maintain his sexual "serenity", too.

When I got my own contractor's license, and started up my own company, I found that judiciously employing my sexual talents went a long way in securing new projects and smoothing out complications in the ongoing ones. I wasn't blatant about it but it did occupy a place in my sales pitches when necessary.

Many of my clients were women, especially in the re-modeling area. Remember, we are talking about a lot of rich women who are accustomed to getting what they want and what they are exceedingly plain on what they want, single or married. It often took more than one week end at a spa in their company to swing the deal but, I have to admit, I had as much fun having sex with these women as I did enjoying getting the contracts. I much preferred it to fucking and blowing the male clients.

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Let me take you back, now to even earlier times and the application of the Female Rule#1. Always Make Them Think You've Told Them Everything.

I must admit now that I was less than candid and truthful with Bowen back when we did our pre-engagement confession and commitment. If you recall, I reeled off 27 sexual encounters that I had since I hit the age of consent. That wasn't a lie; there were 27 but, there were more, too, that I didn't list because I felt they were, in a way...errr...business and not pleasure. Now, I'm not saying I was a prostitute but it these encounters were more in the spirit of...well...the apartment "Super", or the contracting contacts, or....well, I'll tell you.

When I did my list to Bowen, I mentioned that a gave a couple of guys blow jobs for favors, like the guy in the school office that got me Bowen's address and phone number. Somehow, in my mind, I really didn't think those were transgressions...it was just sex...and it was just part of "doing business", quid pro quo, you know.

Let me give you an example. My mother's primary doctor who was good enough to make weekly house calls--I was giving him pretty regular blow jobs, once a week, for most of that time. Hey! He's a nice guy and he deserved some loving for caring for my mom. So, yeah, maybe I should have added him to the list.

And, getting back in school after my two-year hiatus? The school board was made up of seven people, school principals and assistants: two from the elementary school, middle school, and high school. Each team was make up of one man and one woman. The seventh member of the school board was the chairman of the local Chamber of Commerce, such as it was. When I made my application for re-admission to high school, I was told that the board was intending to disapprove my application. Now, I needed a 4 to 3, or better decision, to get back in school. Separately, one by one, I approached the four male members when each was alone and, you guessed it, gave each one of them a blowjob in exchange for a favorable vote. Would they have plausible deniability if there were to take the blowjob an then vote against me? Not a chance! My girlfriend, Phyllis, got still shots on her telephoto lens camera of each of those encounters. (I still have the negatives!) In exchange for that, Phyllis and I had a couple of--literally--rolls in the hay. As it turned out, I had faulty intel and the vote wound up being unanimous.

It wasn't until much later, much, much later, that I found out that my brother, the jock, McKinley had something to do with it, too. He wound up taking the three women to an out-of-town motel and fucking their brains out--only he did them all at once. And, yes, he still has the hidden camera VHS tape.

So, "business transactions" done because of what I can justify as being necessary.

I also lied about the redoubtable Ms. Bloomfield. Well, I didn't lie because I did count her as one of the women with I whom I sex. I could hardly not count her since Bowen already knew about her. What I didn't tell him was that she and I did get it on when I turned 18. Remember, I had the advantage, perhaps the disadvantage of bing an "of age" freshman--given the fact that I started school late. because of my 3 year hiatus taking care of my mother. In fact, we had kind of a "thing" of intermittently having sex but then I was able to count on her to euchre my grades in the computerized system. Not always, though; I'd only ask her to do it when I need an "F" to go to a "D", or a "D" to a "C". She didn't mind doing it all and I didn't mind sex with her at all. Her contention with Bowen, when she took him aside to lecture him on propriety of student/teacher was more because she was jealous and didn't want Bowen to steal me away from her.

Anyway, having regular sex with Ms. Bloomfield made it a lot easier to get the previously mentioned coup de grâce "Girls Night Out" video tape to ensure her silence. I did enjoy Ms.B, though; she had a marvelous tongue. Again, this was almost mostly business, sorta.

Now, if you thought I gave blowjobs that I didn't like to give just out of necessity, you'd be wrong. I love giving blowjobs! That's what made things so easy. All these guys thought I was sacrificing my young sexuality as a bargain to comply with my wishes. Well, partly the truth, but the real truth is that I've never given a blowjob that I didn't want to give and always enjoyed every blowjob I've given. Well, there was one exception. That's the time I told the rodeo bronco rider that I'd suck his cock if he rode the bronco, Diabolo, successfully. Well, he did and I did suck his cock. But it wasn't any fun for two reasons; his crotch smelled like horse sweat and his balls were so bruised that he could do nothing but complain during the procedure. Other than that, blowjobs were "yum" to me.

I think you get my point. There was, and is, a big difference in my mind about sex for a purpose, sex for sex's sake, and sex out of love. To be honest,

Bowen/Cowboy was out of infatuation, at first, but--as I told him--it was BANG! love in no time. There's been nothing to match that since

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Female Rule#1---Present Day!

Bowen was intent on creating a place for himself in academia. He did eventually catch the brass ring in his quest. He was the right man at the right time partly because he appealed to the women with whom he was working. And it was NOT because he was a "hunk"; that would hardly describe Bowen. He is a moderately good looking man, yes, but he is not beefcake good looking. In fact, it was probably because he was not buff that he appealed to his female colleagues. They wanted credibility in a man who would be involved in a female field. On top of that, Bowen is not assertive; in fact, I would characterize him as being generally passive. He did not present a "challenge" to his female principals. Exactly right for them!

Bowen's focus was passionately academic, assiduous in his research, rigorous in his honesty, and brilliant in his presentation. The women he worked with largely respected his goal which, he emphasized, was to discover the truth from facts. The loved it when his conclusions coincided with theirs and, mostly--with some exceptions, which I will cover--accepting when his findings didn't agree with their positions.

This brings us to "Gladys/Deborah". I'm not a scholar, I don't understand all of what happens in the academic world, but I do know that it is a business, there's competition, and powerful egos are in play to achieve a result. One of these egos was Bowen's department "head" Ms. Deborah X______. (Don't look her up, I've changed her name.) Now, if there were a Mount Rushmore (politically incorrect as that monument has become) of Women's advocates, Deborah would be on it. There aren't many women who have had a greater influence in her field than she has. I need to say it, her ego IS the size of Mount Rushmore. While right virtually all the time, she can occasionally be wrong but never would she--or in my view, could she--admit when she was wrong. A character flaw? Absolutely! But, being a woman myself, I understand it entirely. The problem is that, when one party is dead set in being right, compromise is impossible and the deadlock can lead to disastrous results. Bowen got caught in one of those.

Again, I am not a scholar and I don't even pretend to under the elements of the contention between the two, Bowen and Deborah. Even if I did have an opinion, it wouldn't matter. My goal was to smooth the way to resolving the impasse. Bowen said I was a planner and a schemer? He has no idea!

I did some research on Deborah X______. There is one whole hell of a lot of information out there. Being famous will create that. Finding the right clues is the trick. So, Deborah is a lesbian, there is no question about that and nothing wrong about that. She is conspicuously "out" lesbian as one might expect, given her field of endeavor. In fact, Deborah is now applauded and admired for her honesty about her sexuality.

What I discovered is that Deborah, for all of her openness about her sexuality, did not have a partner. It was not that she had never had a partner she did not currently have a partner and her last partner was far in the rearview mirror. Clearly, it would be difficult to call oneself a lesbian without ever having experienced a lesbian relationship. I suppose one could identify with and support the lesbian movement and not be a lesbian herself; but that's not what I got from my research. I detected failed relationships in her past. What I was looking at was a sexually isolated icon. I had no doubt this was true, in part, because she felt she needed to be--and factually did need to be--discreet in her sexual liaisons.

I found a lot of dating websites. You name it, you can find it. Pick whatever sexual combination you can imagine, there's a website specializing in locating a suitable partner, or partners. I reasoned that someone like Deborah wouldn't be frequenting the low end sites; someone of her stature would only be looking for the best. I came up with a couple of "Platinum" sites, paid my money--not cheap--and put myself up as a prospect.

"Tanya", that sounded good, 5'10" (1.8)--that's true, 140lbs (66kg) --I fudged a little but what woman doesn't, 36D cup (80D Euro),--that's on the money, Blonde--yep, Blue eyes--yep, age, "Mature"--sounds better than "older", Occupation: Professional--the truth. Just looking at that, I'd think that I would get a lot of hits--who wouldn't want a dish like that, modesty aside. I gave my location and a radius of 25 miles, I'm in a "Big City", you know. The bait: Interest-- seeks an unattached, mature, refined, professional, academic, committed lesbian, for--a discreet, sexual liaison, which may, or may not, develop into an ongoing relationship. I am open minded and expect my prospective partner to be likewise..the watchword for me is DISCREET. The website specifically barred photos from being linked with the "requests" Their care for anonymity extended to the concept seeing each other face at the first physical meeting.

I wasn't exactly peppered with hits--this was a pretty exclusive website, not one that the generally populace would look to first, because of the cost and second, because a lot of women aren't looking for "snooty " women. But there were several hits that I combed through. Three of them caught my attention:

"Debra": I thought, that couldn't be it. Too close to DEBORAH, but who knows? One might think that misspelling would throw off any suspicion that it would be the same name as my de facto "celebrity". Still, her particulars, 5'5" (1.65m), 130lbs(59kg), 36DD, Blonde, Blue,, were intriguing and fairly matched my requirements. I wasn't sure of Deborah's stature and attributes. I had only seen her once and she had been pointed out to me as Bowen's "Boss". I found out later she knew who I was.

"Livinia": Ah! A classic name. If an academic, I guessed it could be in history or archeology. Her description was interesting, as well. 5'8" (1.7m), 125lbs ( 56.7kg). 36C, Brown hair, Brown eyes, She sounded like an exotic creature and a maybe a match for Deborah, though it looked like she might be a little too tall. It was worth a shot any way.

"Gladys": 5'3" (1.6m), 110lbs (50kg), 34B, Brown, Brown Her particulars looked good. In her interests, she repeated my watchword "Discreet".

Well, at the time I had no idea which one it might be so...well what do you expect...I started at the top. The worst that might happen was that I would wind up having some sex with some sexy sounding women.

Debra knocked my socks off. She wasn't the DEBORAH I was looking for but...WOW! She was bouncy (36DD's you know) and lively and smart. Debra was only 35 years old. She was the archeologist I thought Livinia might be. Debra excavated Native American sites upstate, had a PhD, and had published a number of books on the subject. She also did her own photography. It wasn't just the photos of her artifacts that were good, There was much art in her landscapes and she was very creative in reconstructing what different dig sites might have looked like originally. Oh, yes, and we did have sex--I mean, it seemed almost obligatory. It was full a 10:00PM to 4:00AM non-stop session. Those 35 year-olds sure have a lot of energy. I gave as good as I got. I've got her number in my phone, should I ever need it again...and I probably will.

Livinia, mysterious Livinia! She makes my mouth water just writing about her. Livinia was a 41 year-old African-American woman best described as "willowy". She is stunningly beautiful, fashion model beautiful, but is actually a attorney and researcher/advocate for women who have immigrated to the USA. Aside from being beautiful, she is beyond graceful, on top of being articulate. She spent a goodly amount of time telling me about her field and how important it was to her. We hit it off on more than one level. And, yes, we also spent the night together. What can I say? She was delicious! And, yes...I've got my number in my phone should the urge arise...and, trust me, I'm pretty sure it will.

So, that left "Gladys" who, as you already know, turned out to be The Deborah! Arranging our met was something of a CIA vs MI6 affair. She and I swapped a number of messages though the dating site. She wanted to know a little more about me and, although I was pretty sure I knew one whole hell of a lot about her, I played dumb. The closest I got to identifying myself was to disclose that I was the owner and principal executive in a prominent contracting enterprise. That may have been stretching things a bit but it was it was true in principle. She was likewise careful. Just looking at her text I would know that she characterized herself as a mature, dedicated academic who is also an activist in women's issues. But, of course, I knew who I was dealing with. Finally, Deborah took the lead in setting up the meeting. Here's the text:

"Tanya, I'm expect you will understand that I have a need for discretion, as I you yourself also have, so please follow this plan so we can finally meet face to face, a meeting that I am highly anticipating.

"On Wednesday, the 8th, at 7:00PM, please come up to the 14th floor of the "Big City Grand Palace East Hotel", the one at 24th and Gordon. Tell the desk clerk your name, Tanya will do, and tell them that you are being expected in room #1414. The desk clerk has instructions to call me and tell me you are on the way up. I know this sounds strange but make sure you are the only one in the elevator. Take it to the 6th floor, and then change elevators up to the 14th floor, again making sure you are the only one in the car. I have a particular need for secrecy and security. I hope you understand and, from what I know of you now, I think you do. Please be prompt. I can hardly wait to see you; I hope you feel the same way."

I sent her an, "O.K., See you there/then."

Wednesday was only two days away.

I followed her directions to the latter and wound up in front of her door at 6:58PM. I knocked. The door opened.

There was a look of shock on her face and I, though I was actually not surprised in the least, I produced a similar look of shock on my face.

My hand went to my mouth, "Do you know who you are?" I was purposely sounding surprised and intentionally muffed the sentence.

"I mean, I'm sorry, so sorry," I put on the sputtering, "so sorry. I had no idea....I mean...Oh, I am so sorry!"

Simultaneously, Deborah was saying, "I know YOU...I recognize YOU. What is THIS all about?"

I turned away from the door and acted as if I were going to start to run toward the elevators.

"No! Wait! Just stop right there. I want to know what the hell is happening!" Deborah's command voice would have stopped me even if I hadn't intended to stop anyway.

I managed to get some tears to well up in my eyes, "Oh, no, Deborah. I had no idea! I am so embarrassed...Honestly! Oh, this is so stupid....I'm so sorry!"