Free House of Holes by Nicholson Baker Page A

Louis. It had one thing to say to the world: “I am a stiff swervie.” She slid her hand up to the tip—it was like sliding over a steering wheel—and slid it down again, enjoying the sheen of the soapy water on his cockknob.
    “This is a big, beautiful dick you’ve got, Ruzty,” she whispered.
    “Thank you,” he said. “You’re nice to say it.”
    She began moving her hand slowly, then faster. “Ooh boy, I want this dick inside me,” she said, “I want to be fucked by this dick, I can’t help it, it’s so perfect. It’s literally THE perfect dick for me.”
    She gave it a number of good quick pulls and then she noticed that Ruzty was quivering and trembling. Suddenly he said “Ohhhhhhrrrrr” in his beautiful accent, and several white glops spouted from the end.
    Immediately there was a buzzer and a ringing. “Uh-oh,” said Shandee. She blew Ruzty a kiss.
    “Bye-bye,” said Ruzty.
    An assistant named Krock appeared and led Shandee away.
    “Why in heaven’s name did you wank him off?” Krock asked.
    “I didn’t mean to. He begged me, and I obliged him.”
    “Did you take off your sponge gloves?”
    Shandee nodded. “We had a rapport. I’m sorry.”
    Krock reassured her. “I think it’ll be okay. Lila will give you your reassignment tomorrow.”
    “Is there any chance that I’ll be able to see him again?”
    “You never know,” said Krock. He gave her a sly look. “I’ll put in a good word for you.”
    “Thanks.” Shandee shook her head wistfully. “I really wanted that cock of his so bad. God, I still do. I can’t stop thinking about it. I had to hold it. I’d give that cock everything.”
    “I wish people said that about my cock,” said Krock, as they reached the lobby of Shandee’s hotel.
    “I’m sure it’s nice,” said Shandee.
    “Do you want to see it?”
    “Um—” Shandee checked the wall clock. “No, thanks. Dave’s arm is going to be needing his meal.”

Rhumpa Unbuttons Her Shirt

    R humpa was her name, and, yes, she paid a visit to the House of Holes. The people she was staying with in New Haven were wealthy and under-read. Although they were middle-aged, their minds were very young and she couldn’t take them seriously. She saw a pepper grinder in the middle of the table, and while they talked about the price of tires she unscrewed the little knob on the top, and when it came off she lifted the wooden part off the central spindly thing and looked inside, where she could see in the shadows of peppercorns. She thought, The peppercorns are waiting to be ground up. They’re still round, like little dry planets, but not for long.
    Rhumpa held the machine to her nose and smelled the distant sharpness of the pepper, which made her smile. And then the pepper grinder got bigger and she jumped down into it and fell through tumbling peppercorns, and she smelled a hundred dinner parties of the past.
    Then she was herself again, but standing on the porch outside the House of Holes. She rang the buzzer. A man with a bag on his back answered. He introduced himself; his name was Daggett. He took her into a small room with a round wooden table and, referring to a clipboard, began asking her questions. He asked her to describe her ideal man.
    “I like men who are intelligent and witty,” Rhumpa said. “Also kind to animals and interested in other people and able to hold a conversation of a reasonable length.”
    Daggett frowned and looked at his clipboard. “It says here that you favor a man with a heavy, dark dick. It quotes you as saying, ‘Some nice things are just not possible with a small, pale dick.’ ”
    “Where did you get that piece of information?” Rhumpa asked, outraged.
    “During reassembly they do a spectrum analysis,” Daggett said. “They screen for diseases, of course, and comb through for lurid thoughts. What’s your ideal sexual encounter?”
    “Oh, touching, kissing, caressing,” Rhumpa said, at a loss.
    “It says here that you would favor