Max Cork: Sex Mechanic

By Andrew Smith

The other day durin' lunch Kit says to me, he says, "Max, you ever make Delila scream in bed?" And then he gives me this smile; this sly, slit-eyed, fart-in-church smile, like he'd asked me about some kind of big secret I wasn't s'posed to tell; only he knew I would.

And I said, "Why Hell yes Delila screams in bed! Hell yes. She does it all the time."

"Really?" said Kit, and his eyes got as narrow as razor blades. "How'd ya make her do it?"

"Oh there ain't nothin' to it" I said. "Like the other night we was in bed together and I'd just flicked off the light when a big old spider crawled across her toe. Man, you shoulda heard her cut loose then! She screamed so loud I do believe that spider woulda went deaf in all six ears if it hadn't been on account of I killed it."

"That ain't what I mean" said Kit. "I mean does she ever scream when you're on top of her? You know, when you're makin' love to her? Does she ever scream then?"

"Why, Hell no" I said. "She likes it when I make love to her Kit. That's why I married her. She don't ever scream about that. Well, maybe only once, when I come back from three days of fishin' right when she stepped out of the shower and was standing there drippin' wet, stark naked, and pretty as a bowl of strawberries. Man! I took a run at her and gave her a great big bear hug, completely forgettin' that I had a number twelve treble hook in my shirt pocket. It hooked her in a mighty unfortunate spot, as you might well imagine, and I don't think I ever will hear the final end of it. But other than that, no; she don't scream when we're makin' love."

"A woman is supposed to scream in bed" said Kit. "That shows that she likes it."

"No."

"Yeah."

"Well then how come they don't scream at other times, like when you take 'em out to eat, or tell 'em their hair looks nice?"

"I don't know" said Kit. "All I know is when they're in heat, they most definitely scream to let you know they're enjoyin' it."

"Oh yeah?" I said. "Well if that's true, then how come Delila don't ever scream when I'm inside her?"

Kit gave me that same slit-eyed look again, and then he said. "That's what I'm wondering too. Maybe you ain't doing everything you ought to be doing Max. A woman that don't scream in bed is the devil's playground, I'm tellin' ya. And you know me; I ought to know."

And if anyone ought to of known, it should ought a been Kit. He'd been married and divorced so many times that me and the boys had plumb give up trying to remember his ex-wives, and ex-girlfriends, and ex-girfriends ex-girlfriends names. We just called them all 'Ma'am' and let it go at that. Kit went through women like the Pope goes through Holy Water. It was nothin' for him to meet a gal on Tuesday, take her out on Friday, and not even be speaking with her anymore by Sunday; he was that good.

A lot of guys that was that much of a stud would get right swell headed about it, but not Kit. He was always helpin' us younger guys out with tips and pointers about women and such. I reckon in his eyes I was a mere rank amateur when it come to love, for in the last nine years I hadn't been with no one but Delila. I couldn't remember if I'd ever even had an ex-girlfriend.

"Well, what do ya think I ought to do Kit?" I pondered. "Delila don't never scream in bed, and that's a fact."

"Ya ever try tying her up? said Kit.

"Oh no," I said. "She stays right in the yard, pretty much. Besides, if I was to tie her up, and she did want to go somewhere, I reckon she'd just untie herself and go. And what if she was to get tangled? What would the neighbors think if they was to see Delila wrapped around a bush out in the front yard? What would Delila think? No. I don't think that would go over a-tall."

"Not like a dog, you moron!" says Kit, about to give me one of his love tips. "I mean tie her up like a woman. I mean tie her up in bed. Not in the yard you idiot! I mean tie her up in bed, like in them movies, you know!"

"Well, why would I want to tie her up in bed, Kit? She don't go nowheres once she comes to bed."

"You ain't tying her up to keep her from going somewhere. You're tying her up for fun! A woman likes that!"

"She does?"

"Sure she does! Don't you read? There's nothing a woman likes more than for a man to tie her up."

"With rope?"

"Of course with rope. What were you going to use, spaghetti? No. What you want is a good sturdy rope. And it's what she wants too Max. It's what all women want. Trust me, I know."

"Well, I guess if anyone would know Kit, you'd be him."

"Of course I know."

"You reckon I should ask first, or just go right ahead and tie her up?"

"Does she like surprises?"

"Some."

"Well then you know what to do."

I give the matter some thought, and that Saturday I stopped into the hardware store for a hank of rope. Now me, I kin go into a hardware store five days in a row and stand there scratchin' my head over the gasket display without drawin' so much as a sideways glance from the salesman, even if we did go to the same school together all our lives. But as soon as I go in there wantin' a little privacy to buy some rope for my own personal use, why then every little sales twerp in the whole store is flappin' around me like a bunch a damn crows peckin' at a ear of corn.

"I don't need no help" I said. "All I want is some rope."

"Right this way sir" says this one smirky fella, "the rope is in the back."

"I bet you sell a lot of rope" I said, just making conversation.

"Actually, no." he said, and then he squints at me kinda funny and I could see right off what he was thinkin'; "This man's wife don't scream in bed, so he's come to buy some rope. Wait till I tell the guys."

That really burned me up, so when we got back to the rope desk, and he asks me, "what you want this rope for?", I lied.

"I got to hoist an engine" I said.

Then he asks, "Well maybe you'd like some chain instead?"

But I said, "No; rope."

So then he says, "Well it comes in hundred foot rolls, how much do you want?"

And I could see right off that his game was to sell me way more rope than I actually needed, so I said, "Well, I'll just have one."

"One what?"

"Why one roll of rope."

"To lift an engine?"

"I ain't got to lift it that far" I said. "The bedroom is right over the shop."

"What?"

"I mean, Delila, I mean the engine, ain't no dog. I ain't trying to keep her out of the bushes."

"Right. OK, one roll. Hemp?"

"'Hmmph!' yourself."

"Do you want this rope or not?"

"What if I do? It ain't none of your business. What a man does with his own lawful rope in the privacy of his own home is between him and God, I say. How do you know I ain't just a ordinary, harmless, rope collector, out collecting some rope? I got three rolls at home just like this one. Four, I got four. You think I'm not telling the truth?! You think maybe I'm going to go home and put this rope to some sort of criminal use?! Like maybe I got a whole barn full of women tied up in rope just like this? Hey, maybe I just want to have a tug-0-war, you ever think of that?! Or maybe they like it, you ever think of that?! Or maybe I'm just going to take it home, and hang it in the shed, and not use it at all, just save it for a rainy day when I need a hundred feet of rope?! Is that illegal?"

"Ok pal" he said, "there's your rope." And he pulled a big roll down off the shelf, and then pretty near run all the way back to the check-out counter.

"Come back here!" I yelled. "I need a gasket for my commode!"

But he'd already took off. I never can get help in a hardware store when I want it. So I took my rope on home and practiced the rest of the afternoon, trying to figure out some kind of a romantic lookin' knot. Kit woulda been proud.

About ten that night I went down to C&R's and had a beer. As I figured, Kit was already there, and he come up and asked how things was goin' between Delila and me. "Well, I guess I tied her up" I said. "she's likin' that."

"Oh really" he said. "Did she scream?"

"Well, holler is more like it" I said. "She didn't so much scream, as much as she hollered, but she hollered plenty."

"I told ya it'd work" said Kit. "Say, how come you didn't bring her down an have a beer with ya? She too tuckered out after all that lovin'?"

"Well no" I said. "She's tied up. Remember, I just told you I tied her up."

"Well yeah, but you let her go after you was done with her, right?"

"Done with what?" I asked.

"Well, makin' love to her. That's why you tied her up in the first place, isn't it?"

"Kit, how the hell could I make love to her when she's all tied up? She can't hardly move, not to mention that she don't look none too attractive wrapped in a hundred foot of rope."

"You used a hundred feet of rope?"

"Well, it was a good rope. I didn't want to cut it."

"Good thinkin'. So where's Delila now?"

"Well, she's home, tied up. How many times do I got to explain it? This was your idea."

"Alright, after you tied Delila up, then what did you do?"

"Well, I come down here for a beer, Kit; any fool can see that."

"And she was screaming, er hollering, when you left?"

"Oh yeah man. She was hollering at the top of her lungs. And you know what you said about talkin' dirty? Well, she was talkin' real dirty; you was right about that."

"Max, I think I have to go home, and maybe you ought to do the same."

"But Kit, I just got here."

"Well, I know. But you got Delila to think of."

"Yeah. I bet she's enjoying herself."

"But too much of a good thing Max...Maybe you ought not to overdo it right at first."

"Oh, I s'pose you're right."

The following week, after Delila agreed not to press charges, and they released me on my own recollection, I was down at the shop sanding a fender, and up comes Kit.

"That rope was a dumb idea Kit" I said. "Delila was plumb mad about it, and ain't hardly spoke to me all week. And not only that, but she made me throw out every last inch of rope, twine, thread, clothesline or what-have-you in the whole house. Why she even stripped the line off my old castin' reel, and made me turn over my shoelaces! Why just look at me. I'm walkin' around in goldurned bedroom slippers."

"I see that" says Kit. "I wish I had me a pair like that. But the dogs eat 'em so durn fast that I can't keep 'em in the house. No Max, I reckon you is right. You made a durn fool out'n yourself with that rope, and you is lucky to have a woman as fine as Delila to forgive all the knothead stunts you dream up."

"Me?!" I said. "Me?! Kit you is the one what told me a woman wants to be tied up. You is the one what told me to go an get a rope."

"Ah, you're right Max" he says. "But I wasn't figuring on just how fine of a woman Delila really is. Your run-of-the-mill woman, sure, tie her in square knots and she's happy. But Delila; Delila's another story. A fine woman like that Max, you can't just expect to wrap her up in a hank of rope and have her scream for joy. Why, you got to be subtle. You got to be smooth. You got to treat her just right, an say all kinds of nice things, and get her in the mood. Then ya kin tie her up in the rope."

"But how'm I gonna do that, Kit? Even if I was to say somethin' nice to her, she ain't listenin'. And like I said, she won't let no rope at all across our property. She wants me to buy her a ding dang clothes dryer now, 'cause she threw out the clothesline."

"That's why you is lucky to have me for a friend Max. I been through this before, a hundred times. What you got to do now is show Delila your sensitive side. Surprise her. Buy her some flowers. Write her a love poem. Get some of that oil and give her a massage."

"Kit she's already got all the flowers a woman kin use, and I ain't no poet."

"What do you mean 'you ain't no poet?' Ain't you the same guy who wrote 'An Ode to Live Bait' after you caught that fifteen pound channel cat out of Ben Johnson's Pond last summer?"

"It ain't the same thing Kit. Besides, Delila helped me with that. I couldn't think of nothing that rhymed with 'catfish' except 'rat squish.'"

"Alright, forget the poem. Just get some oil and give her a massage. She'll love that."

"You sure?"

"'Course I'm sure."

"Oil huh?"

"Works every time." "You mean like Valvoline?"

"Valvoline?! Max, are you sure you're using a full ten percent of your brain? Valvoline!? For a massage? Max, a woman ain't gonna appreciate no high dollar motor oil like that. To a woman oil is oil, and that's all there is to it. Save the Valvoline for your truck, and get Delila some Quaker State. Hell right now you kin get a whole case for nine bucks down at Bob's."

"I don't reckon I need a whole case Kit. One quart'd pretty much cover Delila. She ain't very big."

"Well, suit yorself. But better safe than sorry, I always say."

So, come Saturday, I went back to the hardware store for a case of oil, another hundred foot of rope, and a card with flowers on it. The way I had it figured, I'd give her the card first, and while she was trying to make that out, I'd slather her up in oil, and tie her to the bed. Then, as soon as she'd had her fill of screaming, I'd cut her loose to fix dinner. It was shapin' up to be a fine night, but first thing a problem come along. I was standin' there in the kitchen with my rope on the floor, and my oil on the table, tryin' to think of somethin' to write on the card, when in walks Delila. And right off the bat she spies that rope, and her eyes durn near popped out of her head.

"Max Cork" she says. "What in Sam Hill is that rope doing on my kitchen floor? I thought I told you never to bring another piece of rope into this house. And don't you even think about tying me up again!"

"Delila" I said. "You ruined my surprise! You was s'posed to read this here first, and get in the mood."

"Read what?"

"Why this" I said, and I handed her a quart of oil.

"What the Hell is this?"

"Quaker State" I said. "It was on sale. I thought I had me a card here somewhere. Well, never mind. You get the picture."

"I do?"

"Good." Since she was so agreeable and all, I decided to go on with the spontaneousness of the moment. So I opened up another quart of oil and started pouring it on her head. I can read Delila like a '64 Ford repair manual; I reckon that's one reason we get along so well. We can communicate without even speakin'. I looked into Delila's eyes just then, and clear as a bell they were saying to me, "Max Cork, I'm surprised."

Her eyes are the prettiest things. I reckon they were the first part of her I fell in love with. They're blue, but almost kind of violet too. I was studying them real hard, and they were communicating to beat the band while I was emptying the last bit of oil on her head.

The next second I was studying the plaster on the ceiling. The problem with communicating without speakin', is that you never really know what the other person is saying. All I could think was that the ceiling looked like it needed fixin' to me, and I was glad it wasn't really my house. Then I thought, "What the Hell do I care about that for?," and I went to take a step, but I couldn't 'cause I was laying on the kitchen floor. And Delila was gone.

"You let Delila knock you out plumb cold?" asked Kit. "You went to give her an oil massage an she whupped your butt and left you laying on the kitchen floor? Max, I ain't never heard of nothin' like that."

"Kit, what am I gonna do now?" I moaned. "I dunno boy. I reckon you need to work on your defense some. You always did have a smashin' right hook, but it ain't gonna do you no good if you ain't got no defense. Maybe we ought to go back to C&R's this Friday an scare you up a few fights for practice. Till then I sure wouldn't give Delila no lip, or she might knock your teeth out."

"Not that Kit. I mean what am I gonna do about Delila?"

"I reckon I'd just try to stay out of range and block her punches till she lets her guard down Max. Then pow! Maybe ya kin sneak one by her."

"Kit, I don't want to fight her. I want her to come back home. Hell, she's went and run off somewhere's, and I ain't seen her for three days."

"You mean after she coldcocked you like that, she run off? Max, you are the one that shoulda run off. If I'd let a pretty little thing like that clean my clock, I'd be downright ashamed of myself."

"She never woulda got away with it if she'd let me know we was fightin' Kit. I thought we was still massagin'."

"Well, that's it Max! Maybe she didn't want to be tied up and soaked in oil."

"That just occured to me too."

"Maybe what she wanted was a good spankin'."

"No."

"Oh yeah Max. Some women like that. And it's mostly the finer ones that do. I shoulda thought of this sooner. Punchin' ya was just Delila's way of showin' ya what she wanted. Mark my words Max, Delila is hot for you to spank her."

"No Kit."

"Oh yeah Max."

"No Kit, I don't think so."

"Max, I know these things. You got to keep a woman satisfied, or it's trouble every time. A woman loves a good spankin' Max. You want to make a woman scream, nine times out of ten spankin' will do the trick. If flowers, and oil, and shiny belt buckles don't grab her eye, why you can almost bet what she fancies is a couple of hard licks across her bottom."

"Aw shut up Kit. Sometimes I think you ain't got no more sense than a dried pea. Delila don't want a spankin' any more than she wanted a clothes dryer before you convinced me that she wanted tied up. Hell, if she wanted a spankin', don't you think she'd ask me? She knows I'd do anything for her. She sees some little thing she wants, she asks me, and I get it for her. Hell, one time I spent twenty three dollars on baseballs down at the fair to win her this one little toy bear she wanted. I durn near won every bear in the damn place 'fore I got the one she wanted. She says she wants flowers, I'll pick her flowers. She says she wants to go for a ride, we'll go for a ride. But screamin' or no screamin', she ain't never asked me for to tie her up, or spank her, or cover her in oil."

"Well, maybe she's shy Max."

"Shut up Kit. I don't need no more of your help. I'm goin' home." I went back home, and set around stewin' and broodin' over my predicament. I was beginnin' to wonder whether Kit really knew all that much about women or not. But mostly I was upset 'cause Delila and I never did fight too much, and I wasn't none too happy about it.

After awhile it got dark, and I went to the fridge to get me a beer. We was out, but I found two bottles of Delila's wine in the cabinet, so I took them back out in the living room. I set there in the dark and drank half a bottle, or maybe a bottle and a half, and watched car lights moving up and down the road. Then I heard somethin' behind me, so I turned around.

It was Delila. She looked at me, and said, "I'm back, Max Cork. I just got done talkin' with that idiot friend of yours."

"Which one?" "Kit. I reckon he's at least twice the idiot of any of your other friends. Maybe three times the idiot."

"Oh, I think that's all show Delila" I said. "I don't think he's really as bright as he makes himself out to be."

"Well, he sure had me fooled" she said, and she stepped a little closer, and I seen her better.

"Delila" I said. "It don't look like you got any clothes on."

"Your eyes must be play

in' tricks on you, Max Cork."

"I don't think so" I said. "Hey, what are you gonna do with that rope?"

"What rope?"

"Why that rope right there that you're holding. I thought you said you didn't like rope."

"I changed my mind Max. Maybe you ought to come here."

"What for?" But she never said nothin', so I got up to see what she wanted. And it turned out, after all was said and done, that Kit, my doubleidiot friend, was right. For Delila tied me to the bed that night.

And by-God, she made me scream.