Quadrivial Quandary:  Logophiles, Rejoice!  Each day we give you four unusual words.  Can you fit them all in one illustrative sentence?

Attempts to resolve the Quandary:


"Ok then, how shall I describe Lolly? let me count the ways. . . . .yes, yes I know I was paraphrasing Shakespeare, right, well, firstly, I didn't know then that she was a professional, a prostitute, okay, a hooker who worked the Truck Stop, but I saw that she knew more than me about men, and sex, in fact, she knew more than most, if not all, the other femalesof whatever speciesat the Rec, and I found out over time that some of them had been doing this for years, with or without their husband's knowledge and, or, complicity, but for most of them it was done for personal gratificationI don't know that they were nymphomaniacs, if that condition really exists, or is it just a belittling of a woman who has a similar sex-drive to a lot of men?—no, they do it because they enjoy it, which is why we do most things that we aren't obliged to do, they enjoy the sex, they enjoy the attention, and they enjoy the power their bodies give them over men, that's why most of them do it, of course there were some who were being influenced, or coerced by a husband or boyfriend for whatever reasons he may havepossibly just bullies, or maybe they sold the photographs or videos they shot off, they certainly did a lot of that, snapping. pointing lenses, which was why I took a highwayman's mask the second time I went, and always after thatone night, it was in the middle of winter, there had been a lot of snow and the Rec was deserted, apart from Lolly and me, so we sat on a pair of swings in the Playground and smoked, sipped from a flask Lolly kept in her handbaga rather good Bourbon, I recalltalked, or she did while I listened, fascinated, and that was when I learned her name and that her regular work was at the Truck Stop; I was rather surprised, although on reflection I should have guessed that there must be a reason why she had such an all-encompassing knowledge of men and sex, but. . . . .well, the surprise was, I suppose, that from what scant knowledge I had of prostitution, coming from such a sheltered and restricted background, I assumedwhich of course one never shouldthat prostitutes were uneducated, uncultured, unsophisticated women, although on what basis? well, I can only say, none, it's a prejudice and one that I am rather ashamed to admit, but there it was, here I was, speaking fairly intimately and freely with someone who shattered my assumptions, for truly, Lolly was the smartest, wittiest and in fact, wisest woman I had ever met, and not at all like whatever vague and uninformed ideas I had harboured, on no evidence whatsoever, who freely answered my questions, held within herself not an iota of a trace of shame about her profession, and was perfectly candid about the benefits and disadvantages of her chosen place in society, she told me about her friendsor workmates, colleagues, the other women and a few boys who also worked among the Truckersand told me that she had started out while she was a student of Moral Philosophy at the University, and it was originally just a few hours a week, to earn some extra cash to pay for things her allowance from her parents couldn't stretch to, but she found that she enjoyed it and the few hours a week grew until she eventually dropped out of College and turned full-time, but she had also taken a day-job as a waitress at the Luncheonette, near where she roomed at the time, because she was writing a novel and wanted a chance to overhear conversations and collect stories from the patrons which she could use in her novel and she said the two jobs, usually days at the Luncheonette, and nights at the Truck Stop, worked well—she didn't seem to need a lot of sleep and managed to fit in a couple of hours each day to work on her book, and occasionally she would do a day shift at the Truck Stop and a late at the luncheonette, where she would encounter a different set of people with their own storiesand the times she came to the Rec were strictly off-duty, no ex contractu relationship existed between the giver and the receiver, unlike the state of play at the Truck Stop, where a guy is paying for a service and the woman takes the money and gives him her full attention and the best she can do, which is his due, for, as she explained, the stranger in the Rec and the trucker at the pumps were not equipollent in their expectations and rights, for at the Truck Stop there was a contract agreed between buyer and seller, whereas at the Rec, it was an agreement between equals, where in a sense, both were receivers, and in the activities Lolly described, her contacts with the guys, she listened and let them talk, if they wanted to, she had an ear for dialogue and told me some of the things she overheard, either what was said to her, or the other women, or between the truckers themselves, which she narrated in a style that I could have listened to for hours but when it began to snow again, it was getting late, so we decided to call it a night and head our separate ways, and she kissed me, on the lips, which sent an amazing tingle through my body and as I drove home, all I could think about was Lolly and hope that I would see her again soon; someone had told me once, I don't know on what basis of fact, or fiction, that a lot of hookers are lesbiansalthough I had no real knowledge of what or how lesbians did whatever they didbut it intrigued me for in my innocence, I couldn't see any point in two men or two women having sex, in each couple, there was something missing, with the men, it was a vagina—for I had never heard of either oral or anal sex—and between the women, the lack of a phallus seemed insurmountable, for, as I said before, my only experience of sexual intimacy had been with my hubby, my parents had never properly explained the Facts of Life, so I had been full of trepidation on our wedding night, but he is a good man and was gentle with me and although there certainly weren't fireworks or peals of bells, it wasn't too unpleasant and he also wasn't too demandingpartly, may mostly, I guess because of our religious beliefs, we're Catholic and Roger. . . . . oh, ignore that, my husband, is more devout than me, though we all go to Mass on Sunday, the whole family, but he believes that sex is only for procreation, it's not done for fun, if you enjoy it, that's a bonus, but not the purpose, so for us, sex wasn't either regular or experimental but at least it worked and we've got the three kids now, two girls and a boy, and maybe make love about once a month at most, usually less because we aren't trying for any more, but if God blesses us, we'll be happy with that, of course, so we do it only occasionally, on no regular basis, and it's really just a slight addition to a cuddling session when he isn't too tired after work and usually seems to be the night before I plan to go to the Rec, but if he ever found out what I do and what is done to me, our marriage would be split asunder, and my loss would be incalculable—and even that knowledge hasn't stopped me going, but if he found out something else. . . . .and I'm talking about my feelings after Lolly kissed me—ok, here goesit wasn't just on the lips, she also slipped her tongue into my mouth, and her hand down my jogging pants and found my clitoris and for the first time in my life, even after about a dozen or so evenings at the Rec, I did see fireworks and heard the bells and experienced an orgasm that flooded my panties and her fingers, and you know what? when she took her hand out, she sucked her fingers and said I tasted beautiful! and that experience of combustion and the release of phlogiston, which almost knocked me off my feet, that memory of the intense delight which had coursed through my entire being, was what filled my mind as I drove home!"

(by MissTeriWoman)
The Quandary for Saturday, August 29, 2020 consisted of: Challenge: use all four words together in one illustrative sentence.

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