Chapter 4
Skipping now to the next noon-I don't want to bore you with a description of Teddy's many-different-practices-make-perfect escapades because they'll all come out in precise detail as my story progresses, in the actual events as I performed them for monetary reward ... I was soaking up the sun by the Breakers Hotel swimming pool around high noon when Teddy padded over to my chaise lounge, at last.By that, I mean that he had left me strictly alone all morning, from the very time we arrived at the pool a few minutes before nine o'clock and I plunked in for a quick dip while he opened up the cabanas. Actually, this was all prearranged ... the better for him to be on his toes duty-wise ... mostly the better for me; establishing that I was all alone seemed to be a prerequisite before any interested party would dare to make contact with me.
Rather strangely-for several unescorted women seemed to give me the come-hither eye-not a single person struck up any conversation with me, although I grinned warmly at a couple of passers-by who smiled first and hesitated, adjusting their bejeweled sun-glasses, but then passed on. I didn't fret. Everything comes to he who patiently waits....
And so it did.
Teddy asked me, "See that man over there behind me ... stretched out in front of cabana number seven?"
"Yeah...?" I squinted at a tall and heavy man in his middle forties who looked like an incarnate Sidney Greenstreet. He wore baggy Bermudas and a brazen sport shirt painted with green palm trees and purple orchids on a yellow silk fabric. Grotesque!
"That's Fritz Bartelme," Teddy went on, cutting into my appraisal. "He and his wife, Clara, are occupying the choicest executive suite for ten days. Big-shot sausage manufacturer-"
"His own best advertisement, from his bulk," I put in. "Ugh! Look, I'd rather not-"
"Who're you trying to kid? If the price is right! And ... it is!" Slyly, Teddy showed me a crisp new one hundred dollar bill palmed in his left hand.
"You mean...?" I gasped.
"Yeah. I pimped the price for you, this time."
"W-what am I supposed to do?" I was a bit nervous, now that it was down to brass tacks. I tried to control my edginess-breathing ever so deeply but gently. Then I concentrated on the hundred dollar bill-half mine-and all my inhibitions fled fast. "I'm to what? Act as trade?"
"Nothing so tacky," Teddy replied, chuckling, softly. "Bartelme will explain ... things to do about his wife. Now get the hell over there!"
"Sure. I'm game," I winked; then, putting on my happiest smile, I -edged my way around the pool. I relaxed and gave myself completely up to great expectations of sexual bliss.
"Top of the day, young man!" Fritz Bartelme welcomed me jovially to his cabana. "Sit down ... sit down a minute."
"Thanks, sir," I said, smiling genuine. "It's nice to know you. I'm-"
"Steve. I know." He reached for a bottle and showed a measurement with his thumb and forefinger. "How many fingers of this fortyyear-old brandy can you take this early in the day?"
"None for me, thanks," I declined gently, "but you have as many fingers as you like. I enjoy watching people having a good time."
"You know, young man," he said, letting his voice drop, barely ride on his breath, "you're hung like a hell-fire stallion. You're exactly what I've been looking for ever since wifey and I arrived here at the hotel, three days ago. But they don't make many like you anymore! It's a real pleasure just finding you!"
"Well ... I want you to have a good time...." I said inanely.
"That's what I reckon to do, young man!" His jowls shook with laughter; then, the voice lowered again. "Now then ... here's the extra key to my suite. What I want you to do is go up there to the bedroom, completely undress, and slip under the bedsheets. Then you stay there and don't expose yourself beneath your chin ... no matter what happens: Do you follow me?"
"I think so," I nodded. "No matter if all hell breaks loose-"
"Yes," he cut me off. "You keep the sheets covering your nakedness ... until I tell you to jump. And then you jump! Get me?"
"Got you." I wasn't sure that I really did ... but I guessed that everything would be pretty self-explainable in due time....
Seemingly dismissed by Fritz Bartelme now, I flashed him another quick smile and went packing up in the self-service elevator for swimming-suited guests to Suite Eight. It was plush and empty, as I had expected it to be. I hesitated in the living room for a few brief seconds to admire the ocean-view from the fifteenth floor; then I quickly did what I had been instructed ... stripped nude and slipped under the soft silk bedsheets, pulling them up to my very chin like an anxious kid on Christmas Eve.
Silence and calm.
The bedside alarm clock went tick-tock-tick-tock-tick-tock....
Abruptly the corridor door opened and-I could see plainly from the bed even without craning my neck-Fritz entered the other room, preceded by a squat-plump, pudgy-faced woman with a high whiney voice.
"Oh, Daddy! Tell me now...." she whimpered, nuzzling his thigh with her plump rump. "You know I can't stand suspense!"
"Well ... get undressed. Out here," he said with controlled eagerness.
"You mean ... there's a stranger in our bed?" Her round eyes went saucer-size. "Oh-h-h-h...!"
"Don't peek!" thundered Fritz. "That's not fair, my dear!"
"Oh, you old delicious devil you!" she giggled giddily. "I'm just palpitating ... and I hope the stranger is horny as hell!"
Suddenly, I guessed it ... this was a charade! It was all a sexual ruse, with a theme that Fritz and Clara Bartelme had often played before ... God only knew how many times, or how long ... and I was the dashing, ravishing stranger ... up to what situation? This I couldn't know yet. But I did know ... whatever the crazy little improvisation might come to, I was in the mood and already filling up with a potent drive. This would positively be a new and probably very unique sexual experience for me.
Now they undressed in a flurry of movement. I blinked. Uncorseted, Clara was a wondrous sight to behold ... of flabby flesh and large squashy breasts that were disgusting and strangely voluptuous at the same time-like the women portrayed in the Rape of the Sabines painting. Probably Clara could squeeze a man to death, I mused, if she ever put those fantastically fat legs of hers to....
Inadvertantly, I gasped as Fritz dropped his boxer-style undershorts then. There had surely been some God damned mistake at his conception! Underneath his rolly-polly mounds of belly was ... a thing! A Godawful ludicrous thing that must have been wounded and stunted in the womb! I stared at it in momentary total disbelief ... but my mind had not faltered into illusion. Not even a method actor could have discounted it.
"Daddy! I want to tip-toe in to see the wicked stranger!" Clara cried in a loud stage-whisper. "Is it a time to dare ..'.?"
"Yes. But softly!" Fritz whispered back. "And on tippy, tippy-toe. Don't dare surprise him!"
"Oh, Daddy! You mean...?"
"Yes, my dear! He is carrying a killing weapon...."
"Oh, Mother of God! What ever shall I do?"
"Why ... tippy-toe!" Fritz answered, guffawing shortly.
Despite my rapt interest in the whole scene, I couldn't help but think in brief distraction what a "charming" couple they would make in home-movies, or to give a new and zestful flair to the always obvious-sameness of really tacky stag films! But I quickly relocked in the mood of the moment.
Quietly they tip-toed toward the bed and then stopped at the very bottom, peering and blinking directly into my eyes. I had a terrible urge to wink! Instead, I kept my control and just stared with a total lack of expression.
Suddenly Clara shrieked, "Oh...!" And instantly her hand flew to her wide-opened mouth. Then, "Oh, whatever have I done now? I screamed, Daddy! And if I scream again ... he's going to leap out of bed and devastate me to death! Isn't he?"
"Why ... perhaps!" Fritz grinned. "Wouldn't you like...?"
"No! I should expire from horror and shock. I know I should!"
"Now ... now, my dear-"
"I won't look" Clara cut him off. "I simply will not look at the evil stranger ... I'll pretend he just isn't there at all-just yet! And meanwhile ... please, Daddy ... please, protect me! Enfold me in your flesh ... or distract my mind! Oh, yes! That's it! That's what you must do, quickly! Divert me with your teeney-weenie star attraction!"
"Well, my dear ... only if you really coax me!"
"Oh, I will. I do! I beg, beseech and bewail you to perform your head-lining attraction...." And Clara began to clap her pudgy hands with the fury of an ardent fan. Clap-clap ... clap-clap ... clap-clap-clap. She was all of a sudden establishing a strange kind of rhythm. And I grew strangely anxious, and rather hypnotized too!
Fritz remained standing motionless at the foot of the bed. But already there were signs of eager expectant pleasure. As his wife's applause slowly increased its rhythm, his narrow slits of eyes became glazed over and began to roll around and round in their sockets. His moist lips parted and drooled. Then he moaned softly and bounced up and down like a gleeful, bouncing baby ... at first fondling himself gently, stroking with his thumb and forefinger....
I was rather fascinated ... but abruptly I felt the rise of sheer pity for him. Here was a jovial, self-made businessman who had the world's oyster in his hand-in two ways-and he was being forced to degrade himself in front of her ... and me, a total stranger. He was playing the role of a humble and humiliated husband without the slightest rebellion. Consequently, I felt a natural pity.
Suddenly, the air was punctured with a high, hoarse sound. Clara was laughing at him! I was totally astonished by this, but I quickly noticed that her sudden domineering, degrading laughter seemed strangely to decrease Fritz's humbleness ... in exchange for a giddy grin, as if he were really a fool-clown who enjoyed the lime-light of her laughter. In a weird way of looking at it, Fritz did derive some sexual thrill at this bizarre action ... for chuckles tore through him now! And his cowardness began to vanish!
Quickly, the roles reversed.
"On your back-right now!" he ordered Clara, slightly breathless in anticipation. There was just the slightest pause as her laughter twittered into giggles. Then Fritz poked her in her soft tummy with his thumbs ... and she obeyed, scrambling into the bed and laying down on top of the sheets right next to me. The bed absolutely shook under her weight.
I didn't stir or shift my position in the slightest-not that it would have probably mattered, I suppose, for both Clara and Fritz seemed completely oblivious of my presence at the moment. They were, in every sense of the word, lost in each other. Yet it seemed a feeble frenzy, and eventually it was only the bounce of their mutual high laughter that shook them to simultaneous weak peaks together. And then they squealed together for just one moment before....
"That was NOTHING!" Clara laughed in his sweating red face. "Nothing ventured, felt or gained!"
"But of course not!" Fritz chortled back. "It was only an obligation ... as man and wife...." He slipped off the bed and stood up on the floor.
I felt my heart quicken. Now ... I was going to degrade Clara even further-in front of Fritz. I screwed up my face as the anxious tension filled me ... with curiosity and startling emotional expectation!
Fritz faced me now. "Up and at 'er!" His nostrils distended. "Go ahead-in front of me-take her, she's yours, sex-starved stranger!"
Then Clara faced me. "Who are you?" she cried. "What do you want?"
"You'll like what I want," I grinned, playing the game now. "Just relax and enjoy what I've got for you."
"What if there's a baby?" she cried. "I'm too old to have a baby! So ... I won't ... look! No, no! I won't let you ... make me a baby!"
Momentarily, I froze in disbelief at the mere idea....
"All right, all right!" Fritz shrieked-laughed. "If that's what you don't want ... go ahead, sex-starved stranger ... there's more than one way to skin a cat!"
Clara's legs kicked up and down like a child's with a temper-tantrum. "Oh ... oh ... I'm so afraid...! Please, Daddy! Please ... you guide things!"
"But of course...!"
I was already straddled. Now I waited patiently ... Fritz's pudgy fingers shot out and quickly positioned me; then he leaped up onto the bed behind me and grabbed my hips. And he gently pressured me ... very, very slowly ... just a fraction ... but enough to warn me that it was not going to be that easy....
"Oh ... I feel...." Just as Clara made this latest giggle-I should have expected it-Fritz powerfully lunged the whole weight of his body against my back and buttocks.
Clara's screams were ear-shattering. The room reeled-the walls pounded. A great wave of pity swept over me and I wanted to curse and rant ... but I was imprisoned and had to fulfill my orders. Helpless, I did what Fritz commanded.
"Let me...! That one is for laughing at me, my dear! That one is for being a cackling shrew and a bitch ... that one for being middle-aged and ugly ... that one for not divorcing me ... this one for not dropping dead...!"
All the while his pudgy strong fingertips were grinding into my ribs and buttocks ... and Clara's shrill screams were tearing my ears to pieces. I was, though, I must admit, performing toward a peak of sheer ecstasy. Now that the rhythm of the game had been established and the intense, almost explosive passions had leveled to a high, hot pitch, the mere instinctive pleasure sensations began to surge through me and I started to soar.
Fritz intensified his manipulation ... fast ... faster as Clara's screams surged quicker too. And then....
"Get ready to...!" commanded Fritz. "This one is for the degradation, my dear! This one is for my slavery ... this one for the hell of our Me together ... and ... THIS ONE ... OH-H-H-H, I HOPE IT KILLS YOU!"
It nearly did me! Reduced to an instrument for torture-pleasure, I was used only as one ... forcefully plummeted to depths unimaginable to me ... for the most intense and complete pinnacle imaginable!
It was superb!
"Dress in the other room!" Fritz had helped me stand up. It took a bit of effort for me! "Just a minute ... you have reduced my wife to a sobbing that will last for hours ... maybe several days, I hope, to spoil the rest of her vacation ... and for a job well done, here is your tip." Standing naked with wallet in hand, he fished out and handed me a crisp one hundred dollar bill.
I really hadn't expected to get tipped! So I stammered, "T-thanks very much! I-I'm always available...."
Fritz was already beamingly guffawing. "Young man, I don't really want to kill my wife!"
This struck me as perfectly true while I dressed alone in the suite living room. Suddenly it was all rather clear. This was a serious-comedy ... written out of the sheer frustrations of a perfectly matched-mated couple who had actually come to adore each other's rather weird bodies. And there was the rub exactly ... their peculiarly developed bodies had surely contorted their instinctive desires out of the usual proportions until their sex play required fun and games; otherwise, there was obviously no satisfaction ... except a need to stick together as man and wife. For the very simple reason-nobody else would have them! And so it was illusion ... or sink in frustrated despair. And I supposed that being humbled, humiliated, hateful and hurt were the lesser evils. In one way it was an awful pity ... but in another way, Fritz and Clara Bartelme would always have a certain togetherness ... that already I realized was an added measure to any form of love play. At least this male-whore already acknoweledged a certain closeness of souls during any sex act. And perhaps this weakness, allowing the sensitive portion of the mind to feel an affection, would prove to be my unprofitable undoing....
I vowed that I must not get involved!