Nicholson Baker: House of Holes

“Mhm,” Shandee said. “But I really don’t think I can let you do that until I know you better. You need to be more than an arm to me.”

“Take me to class tomorrow,” he wrote.

The next morning she fed him some fish paste and drained his waste and wrapped the cloth around his life-support addendum and put him in her bag. In the middle of her nineteenth-century novel class she felt his fingers very gently brushing her calf. She reached down and held his hand and loved how it felt.

When she got home that afternoon, she washed the hand carefully in the sink and then took him back to her room and dimmed the lights and put on Appleseed’s “When Are We Going (to Do It).” She said, “I’m ready for you to hold me now, any way you want.”

His hand brushed over her lips — she was wearing Terranova again — and she opened her mouth and tasted his fingers, and he circled her tongue and tweaked it, and then as she steadied him he crawled down. She put her feet together and let her knees fall open. His hand found her stash and she looked down and saw his fingers half buried in her folds, and then she felt a warm filling feeling as first one, then two of Dave’s fingers slid inside.

She held his arm and helped him angle his fingers in and then pull them out. Then she pulled him up to her clitty and he circled it. “Oh, that’s nice,” she said. Just before she came, he stopped and held his hand up to her mouth.

“What is it, baby?” she asked.

His fingers made the O and then he pushed the O shape to her mouth. She put her tongue through it, and her mind and neck and body stretched until they were very long and flowed through his fingers, and then his fingers flowed with her. She was pulled in a whoosh of wispiness, and she landed and condensed. Before her was a sign in the grass: “Welcome to the House of Holes.”

She looked down at her hands. They were still holding Dave’s arm.

Ned tapped the ball on the seventh green, using his new teryllium putter. It made an odd tight circle around the hole and then dropped in. “Did you see that weirdness?” said Ned, looking around for his golfer friends. But they were talking and hadn’t seen it. No matter. Ned leaned to pull out the ball and heard strange sounds coming from the hole. He got down on his stomach to listen better. A woman’s voice said, “Hi, Ned, my name is Tendresse. Come talk to me at the House of Holes.”

“All right,” said Ned. Immediately his head was jerked and stretched and twisted and atomized, and he was sucked powerfully down into the seventh hole. And then, a minute later, he rematerialized on a hillside full of clover and Queen Anne’s lace, still wearing his golf hat, still holding his teryllium putter, but now without any pants on, just his black Eddie Bauer sports briefs. A small discreet sign in the grass said “All Bets Are Off.” In the distance was a yellow Cape house with a wraparound porch, surrounded by softly swaying pale-green trees. Other bulky, oddly shaped buildings were visible behind it — in fact there seemed to be a whole complex of structures, including some sort of amusement park. A ridge of mountains hung smokily in the distance.

Ned, standing in the fragrant vetch, heard steps nearby. “Hi, welcome to the House of Holes, I’m Tendresse,” said a pleasant woman with a strong aquiline nose. She had short brown hair pinned with a plain clip, and she wore a white linen skirt tied at her waist with a scarf. She was holding hands with a small, confused-looking bodybuilder carrying a squash racket. She was topless with interesting pointy nipples. “How was your trip?” she asked.

“Quick,” said Ned. “I was in the middle of a round of golf and here I am.”

“I gather your Bermuda shorts didn’t make it through the First Conundrum. That can happen. Is that your putter, sweet attractive man?”

“Yes, it’s new.”

“Is it lively?” said Tendresse.

“Yes, it’s very lively,” said Ned.

“Good. This is Woo Ha — he’s a new arrival, too. He plays squash.”

Ned nodded at Woo, and Woo nodded warily back. Woo was also in his underwear.

“What do we do here?” asked Ned.

“I’m going to sniff your crotches, and then we’re going to go on down the path to the house, where you’ll meet Lila. Lila’s the director. She’ll talk to you, and you can describe your desires to her in detail if you want.” She took Ned’s hand, and they began walking down the stone path. “But I warn you both — this place is very, very costly.”

“I own a tire company,” said Woo.

Ned gave a short laugh. “I doubt it’s worse than golf — the fees are bleeding me dry.”

“Oh, yes it is, darling, much worse. We do have scholarships and work-study programs, though. For instance, if your sperm has magical healing powers, then you get a full scholarship. Does it?”

Ned thought. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Let me check for you. I’ll have to sniff and juggle your balls. It’s just a formality. Takes half a second.”

“Okay.”

“Woo, I’ll do you first. Do you mind?”

“I don’t mind,” said Woo.

“Good.” Tendresse knelt and tied her scarf around her eyes. Woo scooted his waistband down and clenched his fists in readiness. “Just hold your penis up out of the way, Woo, please.”

Ned watched Woo flip his cock up. Tendresse pulled his slouchy hairless satchel toward her face and jostled its contents. “Nice size, nice movement,” she said. She closed her eyes and sniffed. “Mmmmm, yes. Rainy ruins. Frogs. Cement statuary. Gongs. Tractor tires. Mushrooms.”

Pleased, Woo said, “So do I have magic sperm?”

“No, sorry, no,” said Tendresse. “But your balls are well shaped. Very nice pair. Thank you so much. You can pull your boxers up now.”

Woo seemed disappointed. “Sometimes I do kinky things,” he said defensively. “Once I let a girlfriend place a cucumber in my back end. It was a long British cucumber. They have the plastic sheath, and we thought that was safer.”

“And how was it for you?” asked Tendresse.

“Good, but I had to go to the bathroom afterward.”

“Please,” said Ned.

“Now it’s your turn,” said Tendresse, turning to Ned. Ned held his cock up against his abdomen and stood with his legs a little apart so that Tendresse, still blindfolded, could smell his balls. She made several long sniffing sounds. “Mmmm, warm granite, campfires, catcher’s mitts, Play-Doh, padded mailers. Very subtle. I think I know a good woman for you. I’ve sniffed hundreds of crotches, men’s and women’s. One couple I sniffed and matched got married. May I taste?”

“What on earth?” said Woo, outraged.

“By all means,” said Ned.

Tendresse flicked her tongue over Ned’s crinkled scro-tatiousness, and then she drew the entire left ball into her mouth like a new potato. “Yow!” Ned said. His cock responded enthusiastically, although he had had a nice orgasm in the shower that morning. She suckled his other ball. Then she threw her head back and opened her mouth wide. “Now both together,” she said. “Fill my mouth with the manly warmth of your nutbag.”

“Very well,” said Ned. He fed his manly nutbag into her mouth, and she made muffled gobbling and gargling noises.

“Just plain disgusting,” said Woo, bending to get a better look.

“Now drop the cock,” she said. “Drop it on my face, Ned. I want it.”

Ned, canting his hips forward, let his cock fall gently against her nose.

“Mmmmmmmm,” said Tendresse, inhaling. “You do not have magic sperm, but I know several women for you. Come, let’s meet Lila.”