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Over the next few months, Mrs. Lucinda Grey sent the other boys away. She wanted young Zachary all to herself; she wanted young Zachary’s tongue all to herself. She didn’t want to be burdened with arranging ‘dates” for the other boys.

You know that Marcus was with Mrs. Allsop, and Harry with Mrs. Conover. Now, Mrs. Lucinda Grey made arrangements for the others. It was just her in Zachary in the big mansion.

It didn’t take more than a month for her colored maids, Mathilda and Gladys to discover why Mrs. Grey had dismissed those young men, and why she kept Zachary around. That would be the Zachary who did not appear to have anything between his legs.

Like the bathrooms, Mrs. Grey’s bedroom had a door with a keyhole. Those maids made it their business to spy on her whenever Zachary went to her room.

It didn’t take long to figure out why she kept him around. “Mathilda, that boy has a cunny habit. Just like Cousin Elmer has a spirits habit.”

“No doubt. He just can’t get enough of that old cunny.”

“When I was young, I had a cock habit, but that was long ago.”

Their husbands pleased them like Zachary pleased Mrs. Grey, but not nearly as frequently or as enthusiastically. It was just a prelude to the main event. Today, we call it foreplay.

For Zachary, it was the main event. For Mrs. Grey, if he had a cunny habit; that is if Zachary had a cunny habit, she had a tongue habit. Lucinda could not get enough of his tongue. “Oooooooh, ooooooooh, Zachary, keep giving Mrs. Grey’s cunny more of your tongue.”

When she had another orgasm (not what she called it) and Zachary had spurted in his pants. “You’re such a good boy. Tell Mrs. Grey how sweet my cunny is.”

This was almost a daily occurrence.

Lucinda still met her friends for tea, and periodically spirits. One day, Mrs. Katherine McGuire Norton pulled her aside, “Mrs. Grey, the gossip is that you have a stable full of boys who can provide a woman like me what her husband no longer can, or in my case, as a widow, who has no husband.”

Mrs. Grey smiled to herself, “so, she’s just like I thought, a tart.”

“Mrs. Norton, I am afraid those rumors are wrong. I’m sorry I can’t help you.”

Later that day she thought about the woman. There was still a great prejudice against the Irish, and the tea ladies looked down upon Kate McGuire Norton, whom they assumed did something very un-lady-like to get Malcolm Norton to marry her.

That would be Mr. Norton who owned a majority of the freighters that plied the Great Lakes.

Why would a man of his means and stature get involved with an uncouth Irish trollop unless she spread her legs for him? Disgusting, Mrs. Grey thought. Or perhaps she was one of those women who used their mouths to please their man. It was reprehensible that this Irish wench entrapped a man like Mr. Norton.

Then she thought how she might put her in her place.

Lucinda Grey confronted her maids, Matilda and Gladys. “Do you know why your brother is called Big Tom?”

The women giggled.

Mrs. Grey blushed. “Say no more. I think I know. Thank you, ladies.”

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