Much of Oswald Finch's focus in life has been on nipples. An extraordinary interest in fact and had he graduated in a top stream at college and made medical school he may have become a nipple enhancing surgeon. Instead he made do being an objective appraiser of nipples and lead the group that published findings.
Although reared on a couple, Oswald was twelve before he took a slight interest when some of the girls he knew began expanding around their nipples and about that time he was confined to playing with boys of his age, although in his autobiography he chose to use the phrase 'associate with' rather than 'playing with'.
The years flew by and soon Oswald, whose appearance outshone his name, was being offered an assortment of nipples by young women who regarded their nipples almost on a par as bestowing the key to the kingdom. Oswald, with his own hormones flying almost out of control at that age, licked, sucked bit and blew on an assortment of twin nipples and vastly expanded his knowledge. It wasn't long before he learned that nipples fell into the category of an erogenous zone and when he performed with panache it not only earned him the legendary key to the kingdom but access to the very real cellar as well.
Well, here's the rest of Oswald's remarkable story:
Chapter 1
At the aged of twenty-eight, a bachelor and publisher of his late father's magazine
World Railways Quarterly
but now following a complete revamp of content and renamed
Nipples International Quarterly
, Oswald Finch arrived home late from a hard grind at the office - a redhead with unbelievable staying power - he switched on his recording of TV8's 7 o'clock news.
He watched the third item on the bulletin with delight. It showed the Mayor's third wife, a stunning 30-year-old coming from the Court after winning a $3.l8 million divorce adjudication to resolve the squabble of her departure entitlement.
"Get the [bleep] out of my way you gutter piranhas," she fumed, elbowing a pathway through the pack of journalists baying for the quote of the day. She stopped and said, "If it's a quote you want how about this one, "The asshole deserves to get the [bleep] clap from some of the loose women he [bleep].
Ossie almost clapped in delight as seeing the beautiful fireball giving the Mayor and the gutter piranhas heaps. Then she began elbowing again and that's when he saw it: for no more that a quarter of a second her dress front gaped, she was braless and he glimpsed something that took his breath away.
He let the film clip play, showing the Jessie's great ass as she stepped into her hire car. That was followed by the temporary purpled-faced Mayor James accusing his Ex of slandering his girlfriends and then an attorney specializing in libel law saying Jessie Birtwhistle who'd reverted to her maiden name had saved herself from possible multi-million law suites by not naming the girlfriend with the clap because the Mayor was addicted to taking up with new girlfriends and probably even he didn't know who there all were. According to current law it was impossible to defame a large group when making a false statement.
Ossie replayed the item and switched to slow play and soon confirmed, even at the distance the camera was from the object of interest, he was looking at a pointy nipple, the most perfect one he'd ever seen. He immediately felt half in love with the pugnacious Jessie Birtwhistle.
Because of his fetish turned into a business, Ossie was up to his neck in nipples, so to speak. He was aware of five-star nipples could occur on females from early teens to mature age and color of skin was irrelevant. What he'd seen on that tape had taken nipples above the bar - it was a five-star-plus beauty, perhaps one of a kind although it was likely to be paired.
God, he thought, dabbing his brow. Being on the nipple alert was far more exciting that being an, um, stamp collector and certainly much beyond being a whale watcher or being on the watch for the almost extinct speckled wading heron of the Orinoco.
Next day Ossie confirmed that Miss Birtwhistle had indeed recently leased a penthouse apartment in Mayfair Tower and that privacy in the tower was assured with two armed guards on eight-hour shifts 24/7. Rather than put a tail on Miss Birtwhistle to find out her favorite place for coffee or where her hairdresser was located he called his real estate agent and instructed her to lease a penthouse apartment in Mayfair Tower - all seven were on the 32nd floor and he agreed on the amount to offer an interested existing occupant to consider relocating.
Miss Birtwhistle was unlikely to talk to him while having her hair done and would regard him with suspicion if he sat down at her table in a coffee shop. This way he could follow her into the elevator and use in his coded access card for the 32nd floor and watch her eyes light up in a neighborly fashion. If the elevator was full of course, he could be lucky enough to back on to her and feel those nipples 'burn' into his back.
"Oh yeah!"The other thing was once Miss Birtwhistle knew who he was she would realize he was wealthy enough not to be after her $3.8 million when he showed an interest in her as a person who simply appreciated her for what she was, the bearer of perfect nipples.
Chapter 2
World Railways Quarterly
had boasted of a circulation of 75,640 subscribers in fourteen countries four years ago when Ossie became publisher, well down on its peak in the late 1980s of 111,888 as old subscribers were dying off faster than new generation enthusiasts were arriving at magazine-buying age in a time where computer games were still in its infancy and kids were still addicted to reading. One night when admiring his collection of nipples on his computer screen Ossie ingeniously decided to switch
World Railways
into a 'super nip' publication. Today the magazine was printed in four languages (for the captions silly!) and circulating in sixty-five countries. The print runs of the latest issue totaled 1,778,200 and the website 'teaser' attracted hits measured in the millions and displays of downloaded nipples from visitors to the site.
This obsession with nipples was a healthy one. Quality of nipples was not considered when Ossie's employees (including females) were hired and each magazine included a section on Breast Health & Care. Advertisements for nipple piercing products were accepted despite the publisher's personal aversion to that and a nipologist provided a column about recommended breast pumps (43% of readership claimed to be female in surveys), nipple grooming, nipple non-invasive decoration and tips on how to keep nipples proud. The current world media craze for displaying the Nipple Slip of celebrities in the vicinity of cameras was also featured.
As sole proprietor of the company, the anonymous donations to early detection of breast cancer research Ossie made each quarter were substantial and fulfilled his sense of obligation to be 'balanced' toward his career interest. Ossie was proud of his own pointy nipples but long ago after voyeur surveys at the beach had concluded they were great but not remarkable. His girlfriends became used to his preference to having his nipples stimulated rather than having his erection worshipped. However, diving down to secure a mouthful was never denied them if that's what they wanted.
Three weeks after calling his real estate agent, Ossie was in his penthouse hanging up original paintings of nipples. He studied the security guards and finally selected an always-smiling black guy called Oliver. A chat and a furtive handover of fifty bucks and Ossie was in possession of information that Miss Birtwhistle was currently in the Bahamas celebrating her newly-won freedom and was due back on Tuesday at around 4:00 in the afternoon.
Ossie waited across the street on Tuesday with a bunch of yellow flowers and just before 4:00 saw her arrive. As she walked into the foyer pulling a suitcase with a smaller one on top of it he followed and as he entered the elevator behind her she turned and said, "Remove yourself please. It makes me nervous when other people are in my elevator."
"Good for you lady," Ossie smiled thinly. "Go get another elevator - I'm in a rush to the bathroom."
He was riled. If she only traveled alone in the elevator no way would he manage to get those 'pointies' of hers pressing into his back. She was fumbling in her handbag for her passcard. He used his to access the protected 32nd floor and asked politely, "What floor ma'am?" after realizing she'd not seen him use the gold card.
The poor woman looked exhausted. Well there would be all the travel, the booze and no doubt plenty of pump action so her eyes didn't light up in a neighborly way. In fact they looked quite scared. "Have you stolen that card?"
Ossie stood with his back to the wall and said nothing, watching her in the ceiling mirror looking perplexed and then pulling her luggage on front of her as if it offered protection.
He used the card again to open the doors to the 32nd floor and grabbed the handle of her trolley. "What number?"
Miss Birtwhistle's hand dove into her handbag.
"There's no need for pepper spray or a handgun. I'm just being neighborly."
"Neighborly?" she asked as if the word was foreign to her. Well, being almost a hooker to capture the Mayor's attention when he was on a recruitment drive to find his third wife, the word probably didn't come easily to her lips. But her hand emerged from her bag empty."
"Six."
"Oh, two down from me. I'm in four, ex-Haig's apartment."
"I wasn't aware they intended leaving?"
Ossie thought best if he didn't reply and say they hadn't been aware either they were about to leave. The jerks lifted his dislocation offer of $15,000 to $45,000 before sighed acceptance.
