Money or the Fat Woman

Thank you to “ChancesAre” for reading and making suggestions on this story. His comments were helpful.

Nelson Quinn was a lazy genius of 22 who spent his free time playing video games or reading. He knew he was because his high school IQ test came back at 163, so high they made him take the test again. That test resulted in a higher score by two points.

He hated television and movies; they were too predictable and had too much violence. He loved puzzles but soon most crosswords, sudoku, and other individual games got too boring for him. He was smarter than almost all the composers and makers of such games and rarely found something he couldn’t solve if he spent enough time at it. He was enough of an introvert and loner that group games didn’t appeal much, even via the internet.

Because he was lazy, he didn’t eat well and was overweight, not much, but definitely out of shape. Walking up the 16 steps to his second-floor apartment caused him to wheeze and he’d have to stop and rest before he walked down the platform to his room. Certainly, no dating and not much interest in even masturbating. Someone once called him asexual, and he supposed he was because he seldom found himself attracted to anyone else and had few friends.

Two years ago, his parents had died in an automobile accident and left him the 15-20-unit motel he now lived in. It caused him to leave college and return home. It brought in enough income for him to survive, if he did some of the simpler repairs himself like replacing wall sockets, fixing clogged drains, and the like.

He simply didn’t have enough income to get a professional except in a few rare cases. He only had one employee, Beatrice, who cleaned the rooms, including his, and sometimes fixed meals for him. In return, he helped clean some of the rooms despite his dislike of work. He thought of her as his mother more than anything else. He paid her as well as he could, but he knew other motels paid more and he sometimes wondered why she stayed.

One day he asked her.

“You help me when I get stuck with puzzles. I’m addicted to the stupid things. I’ve been trying to write a few myself, but I ain’t as smart as you. Can you help me?”

Yes, he could, anything for Beatrice. She was the one constant in his life over the past few years. Without her, he’d be lost.

They sent some of her puzzles to publishing sites and soon she became a popular composer of a certain type of crossword, a type that made him blush when he read them.

The number of units fluctuated because he had to put some out of commission until he had enough money to get a professional. One example was when someone had punched a hole in the wall of a unit. He tried to patch it himself, but the result looked so horrible people wouldn’t stay there despite reduced rates.

He never had an overabundance of money, but he always had enough to treat himself to breakfast several times a week. For the first time, he became attracted to one waitress at the diner where he ate.

Molly Barton was only a few inches shorter than he, cute, flat-chested and narrow hipped. He heard her laughingly say one morning that she could use band-aids for bras for years. That sort of weird humor appealed to him. She was always pleasant to him where the other waitresses treated him brusquely or ignored him. If the diner wasn’t busy, she chatted with him and that’s how he found out she was a puzzle freak too.

When his night clerk-manager quit, he took that job himself. It was nothing more than talking to a few people and during most of the year, he was full by 10 p.m. The office had a small room behind it where he put a single bed and a recliner, and he could sleep most of the night anyway. He installed an outside bell in case someone needed something and posted instructions for people to drop their keys in a chute when they left in the morning.

All in all, he was quite happy with his life.

One day one of the few friends he had, a computer geek, introvert and puzzle enthusiast like him, texted him about a new puzzle contest that was running. The puzzle at first looked easy, Scooter said, but after three days he hadn’t found a solution that worked right, and he didn’t think there was a solution.

Nelson hemmed and hawed a bit until Scooter said the deadline was less than 24 hours away. The prize of $5,000 and the challenge of solving a puzzle that his friend couldn’t got him to look at the puzzle. Yes, it did look easy but there were several things about the puzzle that perplexed him. He agreed with his friend. He didn’t think there was a correct answer. He’d run into that several times, so he did his best. His entry had to be faxed, so at the last second, he faxed it to the number given and waited hours for a return receipt. If he didn’t have a fax machine in the motel, he wouldn’t have been able to enter.

Nothing happened for several weeks except that he learned the cute waitress at the diner had entered also. They compared entries and, while they were similar, they had reached different solutions.

Exactly one month later a letter arrived in an unmarked red envelope. Something stopped him from opening it on the spot, maybe he needed to share this rare event with someone. Rushing to the diner, Nelson found Molly waiting for him, a similar red envelope in her hand. They traded envelopes, smiles wide on their faces as they read the other’s letter.

Soon they were hugging and dancing around the diner, shouting “We’re finalists, we’re finalists.” Applause sounded and eventually they stopped, looked at each other and she kissed him right on the lips, another first for him.

Two weeks later, they were dating and when the time came, she showed him how to dress and taught him how to act among people he didn’t know.

The eventual winner would be announced at a banquet which the three finalists had to attend. She helped him rent a tux and even assisted him to get ready. By this time, they’d had oral sex a few times and she had aided him to get on a better diet and develop a workout routine at a local gym. He wasn’t fit enough to have good intercourse and they both wanted that.

They both knew they were falling in love with each other. She didn’t care if he was overweight, although she preferred him to be in better shape. He didn’t care that she was narrow-hipped and had breasts that barely fit a B cup. He liked it when she didn’t wear a bra because her nipples stuck out and looked so lick-able. For the first time in his life, he got turned on enough to masturbate thinking of the few times he’d seen her naked. She told him that she did the same when they weren’t together. While he had nothing to compare her pussy with, he thought it exquisite.

The night of the banquet, he almost backed out. He was scared, shaking, and wondered if he might throw up. But she held his hand and reassured him throughout the evening. When the final winners were named, he did nearly pass out and she did too. There was no correct answer on purpose, but he and Molly had come the closest. Instead of splitting the prize, they each would get $5,000. The third-place person would get $3,500.

Everyone there said they’d never seen a contest like that.

Time went by. Molly wasn’t interested in getting married and neither was Nelson. She was an orphan, didn’t know who her mother was, but among her adopted parents, had seen constant infidelity in her family.

As a motel owner, he’d seen plenty of instances of two or more people, who he knew were married to other partners, check into his motel overnight, most of them older than him. Some he recognized from his high school days and some he knew from church meetings he attended when his parents were alive, so he knew who was married and who wasn’t.

They lived together in his apartment, and both were happy. He encouraged her to go back to school and over several years she got a two-year bookkeeping degree and a good job with a local accountant. With her income, they had enough money Nelson could afford to hire professional help for repairs and a full-time night manager. He even worked outside the motel from time to time as an under-the-table handyman. His body had changed. He was fit and happy, especially that Molly was happy with him.

She was adventuresome and experienced and loved to teach him new things. His inexperience had attracted her after many of her former dates showed a reluctance to try new things or let her lead. Both of their favorites soon became shower and oral sex.

It started one night when they were in the shower. They loved to wash each other’s bodies and use the slippery closeness as the focal point of their sex. He was now strong enough he could hold her against the wall and fuck her hard.

He was washing her back and as he got to her hips, she whispered, “Eat my ass tonight, baby.” That made him stand up and drop the body wash he was holding.

“I’ve never heard of such a thing. Have you done that before?”

“No, I’ve watched many instructional videos online and asked other people to try it. I’m all clean so we can just proceed, or I can show you the videos.”

He wanted to see. He had a difficult time believing people would put their mouth on someone’s rear end like that. He’d had a hard time believing people would put their mouths on each other genitals too and he loved oral sex once he had tried it.

After they dried off and watched several videos, he understood. “I don’t want to get wet again and we’re already near the bed?”

He ate out her pussy to one orgasm first because he still didn’t believe he should go the other way. Besides, even though she hadn’t asked for it, he knew he was going to put his prick in her ass before the night was done. She was tight, but he wanted tighter. They followed the instructions to the second. She directed him when she wasn’t happy and he complied.

He loved it and so did she.

“I want you to fuck my ass now, babe,” she said after a bit.

“Already in my plans. Ready now?”

“There’s lube in the bedside table. Never can have too much lube, I’m told.” He poured more than he thought necessary on her ass, and she did the same to his cock, giving the tip a good once over with her mouth “just in case.” They always had to be quiet when they had sex because of downstairs visitors, but tonight they were loud and vocal.

“That’s it, baby, tease me a little,” she said as he ran the head of his cock up and down her ass crack. He tucked his cock in the valley of her checks and pushed them together and fucked her ass that way for a while.

“Enough. Let’s get to the good stuff.”

As he entered, she directed him verbally. “That’s it. Nice and slow. The video said push slowly until you get past the muscle band.”

“Does it hurt?”

“A little, but not bad. The video said I’d feel the urge to expel. I love those euphemisms because yes, I do feel like I need to poop, so move a little faster.”

They kept talking to each other until he was in as far as he could go and since he had an above-average length cock, they both liked that.

“The video said to go slowly now until you’re used to it. Fuck, baby, you’re tight. I love feeling your ass.”

“I love the feel of your cock in my ass. I can feel every bump, every vein, the stretching as my ass muscles relax. Ohhhh. That’s where your cock curves. Remember, babe, how we decided to have you rotate your hips while fucking? Let’s try that.”

Soon she was hollering. “More. Faster. Harder. Crap that feels so good.” And he was shouting. “Yes, so tight, baby that’s so tight in your ass.”

When he reached for her clit to help her along, he found both of her hands already there, and while it was a little awkward, he managed to get one finger in her pussy for a time until he was pounding her so hard he needed both of his hands on the bed to keep his balance.

She came first and when she clenched on his cock, he filled her ass full of his cum, more than he had expelled in the past, he thought. She was screaming unintelligibly, and he was grunting and screaming when they climaxed.

As they lay in each other’s arms, they could hear people fucking below them. Bam. Bam. Bam. He knew the headboard and the wall in the downstairs unit needed checking tomorrow morning. Maybe it was time to replace free-standing units with ones that had wall-attached headboards.

In the morning when the older couple below them checked out, they looked at each other with red, but knowing faces. The wife motioned Molly over and whispered in her ear for a minute. It was more than an hour before they had time to talk about what she said.

“She said they’d been talking about trying that. He had the lube ready, but she was hesitant. When they heard us, well, let’s just say, I wasn’t the only one to lose my anal cherry last night.”

Because she was experienced and he was not, he asked if they could add additional people to their sex. “Sorry, honey, but no way. I love having you all to myself. Besides, I’ve done that a few times, and to make it enjoyable takes a lot of work. There’s too much that can go wrong.”

One of the conditions of winning the contest was that the entrants had the option of continuing to solve puzzles weekly for this unknown company on a year-by-year basis. Sometimes the prizes were almost non-existent, sometimes they were as high as $5,000.

By now, the company had evolved, and puzzles were posted online, entries could be sent in through multiple means and notifications were emails or texts, whichever the entrant wanted. Both entered every single weekly contest and, although they didn’t always win, they earned enough money to supplement their incomes and build a nice nest egg and talk about finding their own house and having children.

When a contest year ended, they talked about whether they wanted to continue for another year. Molly was in favor; Nelson was not. Eventually, that led to other arguments, and she disappeared without a word. He was stunned and kicked himself. With his skills, entering a contest every week took up little of his time. Like many arguments, the issue was who was in control, not the subject.

His damaged heart stopped him for several months, but he eventually needed to move forward. After all, he had gotten a girlfriend once and he was in better shape now. There was this girl in the diner, Molly’s replacement, who loved puzzles too. He was thinking of asking Cherise for a date but didn’t have the courage.

Nothing happened for about six months, but then bad luck set in.

The older part of his motel caught on fire, and he lost ten units. Fire officials said the fire was caused by faulty wiring in one of the units, a unit where he had done some illegal electrical work. They said they wanted to inspect the entire motel and when they were done, they closed him down until he had extensive electrical, plumbing, and remodeling work done. Without Molly, he didn’t have the money to do that, so he sold the property for less than it was worth so he could have some capital.

When the motel burned, he had no alternative but to let his cleaning lady go. “Don’t you worry about me none, Nelson. I’ll go live with my daughter in Texas. I can survive. The only reason I’ve hung around here is that you’re alone.”

Then in a low voice, like she didn’t want anyone to hear, she added, “I’ve been able to retire for years. I just hung around because I like taking care of you.”

He still saw Molly, both as a prize winner and as a person from time to time. He had tried to enter the competition, but his entries were rejected because it was mid-year in the contests so he never tried again. He attempted several things, such as day trading, entering other contests, and working odd jobs, but his lack of education prevented him from getting a job that paid what he needed.

He tried composing puzzles that he thought were great, but they kept getting rejected. The reasons for the rejections were mundane and unhelpful and he wondered if all the puzzles and the responses to entries these days were done by computers. The few that were accepted were among his worst and provided very little income.

His carpentry jobs were under the table which meant sporadic income. No one would hire him as a full-time carpenter. He missed opportunity after opportunity because he didn’t have enough money to invest. As an example, he had purchased bitcoin in its early days, rode it up to where he thought it would peak, sold it, and saw the decline for a time to where he thought it would stay and eventually go out of existence. He was shocked to see it zoom to 100 times the price he had originally purchased his bitcoin. It rose too fast and he didn’t have enough money to re-enter the market.

He had learned that venture capitalists never loaned money unless they thought there was an excellent chance of at least getting their loan amount back and that stock market traders shouldn’t buy more than they could afford to lose. He had so little spare money that he knew if he lost his funds, he’d be broke and homeless.

Eventually, he took a job washing dishes and bussing tables at the diner where he once ate. He lived rent-free in a small room above the diner and always smelled the various dishes, the garbage and the greasy smells that exist in a diner. They let him eat two meals a day for free as part of his benefits. But now the foods he once ate with pleasure never tasted good and he often ate only once a day and snacked on foods like grapes and lettuce in the evening. He no longer could afford to go to a gym, but he started running and learned how to use stretch bands someone gave him to keep in shape.

From time to time, Molly would eat there, always arriving in a fancy limousine with some guy or another, never the same one twice in a row, always handsome.

The first time she came in and asked for him, he wasn’t there, and he worked out a standard response for his fellow employees. “He’s not available right now.” The statement covered everything without lying.

He never let her see him because he doubted that she cared for him anymore. He had nearly nothing and she had everything, it appeared, including good-looking and rich boyfriends. Why would she want to be with him other than to rub her newfound riches in his face?

One day, he looked for Cherise when he went to work. His boss, who barely tolerated him, sneeringly told him she had quit and found a new boyfriend because he hadn’t asked for a date. But his boss made up stories like that all the time and he didn’t have the heart to call her and see. Seemed like his bad luck kept hitting him in the face.

A few days later, his fellow workers urged him to see the limousine that had pulled up. “Hey, it’s your old girlfriend and she’s asking for you.” He was reluctant, especially because his boss was glaring at him. “Go,” the boss said. “We’re caught up. If we get behind, you will have to work overtime to finish what’s on hand.”

He still hesitated. The cook, who towered over him and barely fit in the aisles, pushed him towards the swing doors of the entrance. Problem was, one of the waitresses came in at the same time and crashed into each other, everything littered the floor, especially since he had to clean up. Another bit of bad luck. But she pushed him off her. “Shithead. I’ll take care of this mess. Go see your ex-girlfriend.”

When he got out into the diner, he watched Molly and the chauffer help an old woman out of the limo, into a wheelchair, and inside. There was no other way to describe her except fat and ugly.

He couldn’t help himself. He still loved Molly and when she motioned for him to come over to him, he did. She cupped her breasts which was another dagger in his soul. They had talked about breast augmentation surgery but couldn’t afford it. Now she had a good-sized bosom.

“Is this the ass fucker?” the old lady growled at Molly in a tobacco strained voice.

“Yes, Grandma, this is Nelson, the man I still love, the man I should never have left.”

That stunned him motionless, and she had to tug at him to sit down at a table. Molly moved the old woman close enough to him that they could speak. He couldn’t always hear everything she said. She used so many swear words that he repeated what he thought he heard after she finished just to make sure. He did remember words such as ass fucker, bastard, son of a bitch, and cunt licker, among others, words he seldom heard and didn’t like.

She was the originator of the puzzle contest and had started it because she was bored. She hadn’t realized she had a granddaughter until she received Molly’s entry in the contest and then it took her a long time to prove they were related. Molly’s adopted parents had died in an automobile accident too. Her birth mother had died in childbirth and the fat lady never was told of a grandchild. The father was unknown.

What it boiled down to be was a classic Princess and the Tiger type of dilemma. She was giving him two choices, neither of which was totally terrible nor totally good. He remembered reading one time that the enemy of great was good enough. He could settle for good, or he could settle for terrible with a delayed great outcome.

Choice one was to receive ten million dollars, tax-free. That was attractive because now he would have enough capital to do the many things he wanted as an individual. But no Molly. The old woman told him there would be a clause disinheriting Molly if they got back together after he took the money.

Choice two was to live with the old lady as her companion and lover until she died. She was so fat he didn’t think he could get anywhere inside her but her mouth.

But no dating or having sex with Molly until she was dead.

She had lived in this condition for nearly 20 years so her death could occur tomorrow or not for a long time. That was not attractive until he realized that Molly was the direct and only heir of unlimited funds and property, and they could get and have all the things they had originally talked about. Plus, she was willing to marry him after grandma died.

He had about 24 hours to decide.

The diner had recently expanded its hours until midnight and he did have to work until the new shift started, plus some overtime. That meant he had to listen to twice the number of people give him advice.

The results were equally divided. Some said he could find another girlfriend, especially with that kind of money. After all, she decided to leave, not him. She could have stuck it out and let the issue of contest entries fall by the wayside.

Some said he could build another motel. Some said no amount of money would make them sleep with the old woman.

Others said that if he loved Molly enough, he could put up with the old lady even in her present condition. She truly did look like she could die any day. After all, Molly had engineered this final contest after the old woman didn’t want her to have anything to do with him.

And maybe the whole thing was a bluff. That first puzzle with no correct answer was the old woman’s idea.

It didn’t help much when Molly whispered to him as they left that her grandmother’s original offer was twenty million. Molly wanted one million to make the choice easier and they settled on ten million. She also explained the reason she had stayed away was that her grandmother forbade her to see and the only way she could get to the diner was with a date.

The amount didn’t make any difference to him because it reminded him of a joke he once heard.

A wealthy man went up to a saintly woman in his church and asked if she would sleep with him if he gave her a million dollars. After she understood what he meant, she hemmed and hawed, checked with her husband, and finally said that yes, she could have sex with him one time for that amount. He then offered her $800,000 and kept going lower until she said, “Who do you think I am? A common whore.” His response was: “We’ve already determined that lady, now we’re negotiating the price.”

Like many such stories, he had always doubted its truth, but the principle was there.

He called Scooter, his friend who had clued him in to the puzzle contest originally. They had a long talk that confused him even more. Scooter had enough opinions on both sides to leave him right where he was when he left the diner.

After a search, he tracked down his fellow puzzle writer and former employee. Her daughter had moved from Texas to Florida, and they had a falling out. She was now living in Arizona with her son. Her savings, social security and puzzle income created more than enough income to provide for her needs. She gave him her opinion but was as stumped as everyone else.

With six hours to go, he got a text saying the amount of the money-only option was being increased to $25 million. No extra time to decide was given. The amount didn’t matter to him.

Maybe this was a puzzle for which there was no real solution? But he needed to decide one way or the other. Or as a third option, he could walk away from everything and hope for the best.

One thing Scooter suggested was that Nelson take a run, which he had already planned to do. He took an extra-long jog, came home, and texted his answer to the number given. The response of “Received and Noted” came back so quickly it had to be automated. It was far past his normal bedtime and despite the fact he thought he wouldn’t sleep, he did, waking up in the morning rested and ready for the rest of his life, content with his decision.

Comments will be left open for this story. Can’t stop people from making negative comments, but please make them constructive. When writing this story, I couldn’t make up my mind which I would choose. What does the reader think? Why?