In the days of her youth Mavis was what people called "A well endowed girl." By this they did not refer to her worldly wealth, but to the generous proportions of her bosom.
Viewed overall she was in all truth a buxom girl with the wild and dark gipsy looks inherited from her mother. Not exactly pretty, she was one of those girls who as the years passed seemed to improve with age and instead of running to fat like many of her type, or for that matter becoming skinny and scrawny, she simply fined down into a very handsome woman of middle years.
But I get ahead of myself. It so happened that her bosom in youth was so vast and consequently cumbersome, that she underwent a breast reduction operation. This reduced her breasts from vast to large. A no doubt understanding surgeon added yet another touch to his work by giving the now large glands a delightful uplift.
Engaging in sport she was a healthy girl and her interests tended to centre on netball and the hundred metres dash. After a while it was noticed that an unusual number of local young males were attending the netball games and the athletics in which Mavis appeared. It was further discovered that their presence was due to the fact that they were fascinated by her breasts which, no matter how restrained, were determined to leap and bounce with her every movement.
Many a breast fancying youth had tried to lay lustful hands on those beautiful female mounds and with each such endeavour Mavis would say sweetly, "No darling, I'm saving myself for Mr. Right," and then smacked him firmly round the head. Consequently, at age eighteen Mavis had still retained her maidenly virtue.
It was at that age she met Mr. Right who oddly enough was named Mr. Eric Wright. He had his pluses and minuses. First he was a widower and twenty years older than Mavis. He was a couple of inches shorter than Mavis, who stood around five feet eight in black silk stockings, but he was powerfully built. The owner of as scrap metal yard, he was barely able to read and write, but like many of his ilk he was shrewd and knew how to add up and take away when it came to money, and he was, as one might say, well heeled.
Eric had chanced to come to her parents house when her father was offloading a lot of metal that had piled up in his workshop over the years. The scrap merchant sighted Mavis, and was clearly enamoured. Mavis and her parents were invited to come and look over his scrap yard, a signal honour apparently, and during the course of this visit he let drop vague references to his financial status.
At the end of this visit he extended his hospitality still further, inviting them to visit his house, an imposing edifice, and join him in what he called, "Supper." The supper proved to be a sumptuous meal brought in from a nearby upmarket restaurant complete with obsequious waiters.
After the meal Mavis was invited to go and look at the garden while Eric and her parents sat drinking expensive whisky and talking. The talk, as Mavis learned, concerned her self, and in summary form it came to this, "He's a good catch."
Mavis, as shrewd in her own way as Eric, was not averse to a good catch, even though he did not match the looks of the film actors she drooled over. But she was not without a sense of realism, and knew that the images on the screen were just that and would remain just that, but Eric was real and he was rich.
The upshot was that just before her nineteenth birthday Mavis wed her Mr. Wright, together with his bank account and splendid house.
It was after the wedding feast that Mavis was to discover a further Eric asset; he was an ardent lover, and not only ardent but frequent. He roamed through Mavis's delightful mammary glands and copulated with her like a child let loose in a chocolate factory; but whereas the child might grow sated with the chocolate, Eric never tired of his sexual unions with Mavis. These unions produced one offspring, whom Mavis sentimentally named Clark, which name had been that of her favourite film star when she was thirteen.
In the throes of copulation Eric was wont to gasp, "I'd like to die doing it," and eventually these proved to be prophetic words. Not that he actually did die doing it, but after they had been married about twenty years, and shortly after a moment of sexual frenzy when Eric had taken Mavis on the kitchen floor, he had a massive heart attack and went to that great scrap yard in the sky.
Thus while still not forty years of age, Mavis found herself a rich widow, and handsome to boot, and being a woman of sensibility as well as sense, she mourned Eric's passing until she was forty.
At that time she did some more asset weighing. She was rich, she owned a scrap metal yard – I lie – she owned several scrap metal yards; she had a large house and one son. There being no offspring from Eric's previous marriage, all was at her command.
In addition to these advantages her dark gipsy looks were still with her, consisting of slightly hawkish features that gave her a huntress appearance, and above all, she had retained her magnificent bosom.
All these things were of course assets, but she had developed her own interests which I shall come to shortly, and the ownership of scrap yards seemed to her superfluous since she had no desire to run them. Many scrap metal dealers were panting to possess those yards, so Mavis decided to sell. They went, not to the breathless owners of other scrap yards, but to the man who had taken over the management of her yards after the death of Eric.
This sale put more money in the bank, a large portion being set aside in a trust account for son Clark.
Now you might consider that these assets would delight the heart of any possessor, and you would be right, but there was, if I might risk a metaphor, plastic mixed up with the metal. As you might imagine, being handsome and rich Mavis was to say the least desirable. Therein lay danger. Mavis, knowing the wiles of men and the honeyed words they can utter when it suits them, wondered how she would ever know if a suitor was interested in her or her money.
That she needed a man in her life seemed certain. She had married for money, but the passionate and frequent unions with Eric over twenty years had left her, shall we say, somewhat oversexed. She did briefly consider the option of a woman in her life, but concluded that this was not her love of choice.
Now for a moment I shall leave this dilemma to one side to draw your attention to other aspects of Mavis' journey over the years.
At the birth of their son Eric had declared, "He ain't gonna to be no bloody scrap metal dealer if I have my way." In this he once more spoke prophetically. It was no disappointment that Clark inherited his mother's handsome looks and his father's physical strength – although not his short stature. As he grew towards manhood, and with the aid of the most expensive education available, it delighted his parents' hearts that he also proved to be intelligent and sensitive.
You might think a man in Eric's position would deride a sensitive son, but no, he was mightily proud of the boy, and when after the normal childhood choices of being a bus driver, fireman, policeman and pilot, he announced at fifteen years of age he wanted to be a poet, parental delight knew no bounds.
Eric, of course, having never read anything apart from monetary accounts, had little idea of what being a poet meant, but Mavis assured him that it was a very esoteric occupation that normally brought in very little cash.
Eric's response to this was, "Who bleedin' cares, he'll have all the bleedin' money he needs," and this we might mark up to his credit. Enquiries revealed that a certain university in a far country was the one to go to if one wanted to be a poet – it's focus was not simply on poetry and the production of poets, but the refined use of the English language – nothing would do but that Clark must attend that university. Thus Clark, in his latter teenage years, departed for overseas academia. He was in fact still overseas when his father died, and had to hasten home to be in time for the funeral.
Now Clark in his focus on, shall we say, the arts and the finer things of life, had influenced Mavis. A major aspect of her life was charitable work, and since she was in a position to donate large sums of money to these organizations, she tended to preside over them. But these involvements did not satisfy her completely, and it was as Clark developed his love of earth, sea and sky and the beauty therein, that Mavis inspired by her son's interests, branched out.
