Chapter 10
Without saying anything, Sharon had slowly begun to convey to Lamont that she was reciprocating his feeling for her. She seemed more careful about what she bought for herself, and when he was busy with his research, she managed to take care of the household bills, since he had given her a checking account of her own, as well.
As a result, though her efficiency as a doctor remained high, her attitudes toward her patients improved immeasurably, until she realized they r actually liked her, and weren't merely tolerating her because she was able to treat them. But two particular patients mistook her smiling attitude for one of a woman trying to hint she was interested in something physical other than making them well. Arthur Fisler had always fancied himself a ladies' man, though it was his money that had bought and paid for women, and not his personality. The man was five-feet-ten-inches in height, with a face that reminded one of the puppet, Howdy Doody, but with glasses. Fisler was a real estate salesman, and a crooked one, at that. Though he would have been able to make millions in legitimate dealings, there was something in him that made him unhappy unless he cheated people. As a result, multitudes of lawsuits had been filed against him, but one irate client had gone after him with a shotgun, and had blasted her lower legs with rock salt.
For the first two weeks in the hospital, Fisler had been unable to move following the operation that had removed all the rock salt from his legs. But now he was walking, and quite well, and as far as he was I concerned, the lovely blonde resident who visited him every day in order to collect another twenty-five dollars was a prime target for fucking. What was more, he intended fucking her.
But Fisler knew better than to try it by himself. He j always tried conning some other man into a deal along with him so that if there was to be blame thrown at any one, it would be thrown at the hapless sucker he had chosen to join him.
In this case, the sucker was Alfred Romeo, with the accent on the E in his last name. He claimed his father had been a distant relative of the Romeos who had started the Alfa Romeo auto company, and in every generation there had to be an Alfred. In his father's generation it had been the older man's brother. But since his son had been born before his brother's son, the Alfred had gone to the man who occupied the other bed in the semi-private room with Arthur Fisler.
Alfred was neither tall or short, with thinning dark hair. He was a bank executive, and a bachelor. As a result, he went out of his way to look for interesting single women. This when Fisler told him about how Sharon was making eyes at the both of them, but for the sake of propriety she was going to try and fight them if they fucked her, Alfred was very interested. Fisler convinced him that the best thing was for the two of them to fuck Sharon, jointly. Alfred, only too willing to accept any woman's hole in which to bury his cock, fell in with Fisler's plan. If a woman wanted to get laid, but wanted to make it appear her virtue was still intact, he would play along.
So it was, when Sharon entered their hospital room that particular Friday, and she walked over to check on Fisler, Romeo quietly closed the door, and then pulled his hospital bed against it to keep out unwanted intruders.
Sharon, hearing the noise, turned and looked at him, and snapped, "Just what do you think you're doing?"
"We don't think," Fisler replied. "We know - we're going to fuck you!"