Mary and the Milkman

The Bates family was large but, not unusually so for the early years of the Twentieth Century.  All the males worked for the Biltmore Estate, George Vanderbilt's large dairy farm in Asheville, North Carolina. A free elementary school education through the eighth grade was guaranteed by the state but most boys looked for work during their eleventh summer, quitting at that point. The Bates boys, all seven of them, followed the custom and went to work for the Estate. The boys, most of them, looked for suitable wives and moved to their own homes at about their sixteenth birthday but they all came home for Sunday lunch followed by playing music on the front porch in the summer or in the dining room if it was cold.
         The company provided a free house, water, electricity, milk, and firewood for the family. The earnings of the boys were theirs to keep. There was little to spend it on. After a hard days work, there was little energy left to walk the three miles to the Isis Theater in West Asheville.  In the 1890's Mr. Vanderbilt had donated the land and built  two one-room schools on Brevard Road. As a means of recovery from the Great Depression, the Works Progress Administration (WPA) had built Venable School, a pair of brick buildings to replace them and add two additional years. The old wooden buildings now functioned as community centers for secular dances and meetings. In addition, Mr. Vanderbilt had furnished the land, and constructed churches for his workers on all roads going through or around his land. If one wanted something to do, there were plenty of activities.
         Tom's first job was to make kindling for the stoves and fireplaces in the Biltmore House. The Estate sawmill sent sections of small pine logs – mostly the top wood of trees -- to the wood shed to dry. After distributing previously prepared kindling to the inside storage bins, Tom selected the best pieces, set them on a stump, and split them by hammering a hatchet down through them with a wooden mallett. The  split pieces were split again and again until they were about an inch square.  The resulting pieces were stacked in square piles called pig pens to continue drying for a couple of days. Tom loved the smell of the fresh-split pine and missed it when he was promoted to being a dairy worker.
         The dairy had recently changed from horse-drawn carts to trucks for home delivery. Tom made friends with the drivers, talked them into giving him driving lessons, and one of them took him to get his license, loaning Tom his car for the road test.
         An opening for a deliveryman occurred soon after his sixteenth birthday. Tom applied for the position, and was quickly hired. The company bought him a new uniform including a hat, jacket, two shirts, and two pairs of pants. Tom beamed with pride as he dressed for his first day on the job.
         The supervisor had a final warning as he got ready to leave the dairy for his route: “Remember, drivers are allowed a five gallon a week spillage. Any more than that, and you will have to pay for it.
         “Oh, Don't worry. I will be careful and not spill anything.” Tom promised sincerely.
         The super smirked, and added “Just bring back the bottles. Them cows work for free but those bottles cost money.”
         The customers received daily deliveries but the day to collect payment was staggered so that the milkman would not have to spend a full day collecting. Most homes left their payment in a piece of paper stuffed in one of their returning bottles, however, some did not. These required Tom to knock and wait, talk to the customer, collect the payment, and, return any change needed.
         As he neared the end of his route, there was another house with no note in the single bottle. Tom knocked and the door opened quickly. A beautiful woman dressed in a bathrobe said “Come in.”          
         “I'm collecting for the milk.”
         “Then come in. I need to show you something.”
         Puzzled,  Tom stepped inside and the customer said to  him “I ain't got any money but maybe we can work something out.” She dropped her robe on the floor and was nude.
         “See anything you want?” Her bravado covered her anxiety. If he refused her, she would have no milk until she could pay for this week, and future deliveries.
         Tom was stunned. The girls in his community wore dresses that covered their bodies from neck to the floor.  He had kissed most of them and some would allow a quick feel through the cloth but here before him stood a mature, well developed woman with no clothes who seemed to be inviting – he wasn't sure what.
         She stepped close, put her arm behind him, and kissed him on the lips. Then she started unbuttoning his pants and reached inside. “Oh – you're so big. I don't know if I can take it all.” she purred. He didn't pull away – He is going for it. she relaxed her worry. 
         She kept her hand on his manhood as she guided him over to the couch. “You know what to do.” she said then, seeing the stunned look on his face, “Is this your first time? – Oh it is! This is going to be delicious!” She took his pants down, pulled him down, guided him in, and he began to thrust for about thirty seconds. “Don't stop.” she commanded as he pulsed and he resumed moving.
         This felt wonderful to him and her. He kept moving for another minute or so until he was struck with pain as his kidneys released their sugar. He had no choice but to collapse. She hugged him close for a moment then rolled over so that she could catch her breath.
         “Don't worry,  you will last longer next time.” she murmured to him.
         “That was good.” he gasped  “I hope you are short of money again next week.”
         “I had an arrangement with Bud, my last milkman.” she explained. “He made me his last stop so he could spend more time with me.”
         “I could do that.” reasoned Tom. Skip her, make his few remaining stops and double back.
         “I want you to know, I am not this kind of a girl. I am a good Christian but I have to eat and there is no work. If I could ever find a good man to take care of me...” her voice trailed off with a note of despair flavored with a faint hope – Maybe this would be the one man she needed.
         Tom understood but the mention of work reminded him of his remaining stops. He stood up and adjusted his clothing. “Gotta go … Thank you.” he said.
         She rubbed his arm as she said “You are so handsome and strong. – I wouldn't mind if you stopped by on days when you weren't collecting.” They kissed good bye with both offering thanks.
         Tom felt like a million bucks as he finished his route and drove back to the dairy. After filling up the gas tank and parking the truck, he went to the office to check out.
         “Spill any milk?” the supervisor inquired.
         “Yea, a gallon.” Tom replied with some trepidation.
         “Yea, you met Polly. She's good. –  Just remember: after five gallons in a week, any extra will come out of your pay. I have had several drivers who had to quit because they were using up all their earnings.”
         Tom felt life was good. He had a job he loved and easy access to women. It couldn't get better than this.          
         But it could.   
         Music was a large part of the lives of the Bates family members. The girls shared a piano, but the boys favored string instruments, mostly locally made guitars or banjos.  In the late 1920's, the older boys had purchased a Westinghouse radio with a dozen knobs and dials, and a large arching silver horn speaker set on top so the family could enjoy the latest country music. A long wire stretched from the oak tree in front of the house to one in the back so that the family could hear radio station WSM in Nashville, TN at night.  Of the two youngest boys, the only ones still living at home, Fred had a ukulele, and a mandolin but Tom had several instruments, and was the master of all, including the fiddle, once he had earned enough to buy one. He also bought higher quality musical instruments for himself when he could afford them. The people at the music store suggested that he try out for the band at the Casa Loma, a nightclub in Biltmore, on the hill above the entrance to the Estate. He passed the audition and found himself working every Saturday night, surrounded by a sea of slightly intoxicated, adoring women.
         It wasn't just his music that charmed them. He had the sort of drop-dead good looks that drove women wild, plus his need to complete his route in time for his daily dalliances had developed his physique. All those encounters had taught him how to please during sex. Whether he had his clothes on or off, females were attracted to his ass.  Girl-talk enhanced his reputation around the club. Tom did not disappoint any of the women.