Chapter 7
For several months now, Lisa-Marie was very aware of the man named James whom she occasionally saw having coffee by himself at the Vienna Cafe. He was so handsome that he made her mouth water, but the only people she ever saw him with were older women-women who wore layers of plastic-looking make-up and girdles in the vain hope of appearing sexually attractive. Women who obviously refused to age with grace and dignity. Women who cast offensively pathetic coquettish glances up into James' face as they babbled at him.
Andrea also was very aware of James and she frequently roamed around the Barnaby Resort area in high hopes of running into him and beating Lisa-Marie to the punch, as it were. Yet he remained as refreshingly mysterious and intangibly aloof as a zephyr on a warm summer's day. 'very aggravating.
"I tried to start a conversation with James today," stated Andrea grimly one day.
"Oh?" asked Lisa-Marie, feeling downcast. "And what happened?"
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He was very charming. His faint French accent had me melting, but he managed to dismiss me in a very polite way. Then, a few minutes later, I saw him go up to one of his old bats and start talking to her-very intimately, too. Like it was a pick-up. Then before you could count to three, he was strolling down the boardwalk arm in arm with her just as cozy as you please. It makes me sick! Lots of men want me and chase after me, and yet James prefers his old cows to someone young. I don't get it."
Neither did Lisa-Marie, but she was secretly glad that Andrea's advances had been met with stalwart refusal. And the tidbit about him having a faint French accent made her sexual curiosity about the curious man become even more obsessive. But she didn't admit these feelings to Andrea since the level of competition made her feel very uncomfortable. She had long ago ceased to express any active intent towards the broad-shouldered James since that seemed to aggravate Andrea on a subtle level.
One day Lisa-Marie spotted James' back as he disappeared into one of the more expensive suites at the Barnaby with one of his usual older grande dames. "Jesus, Theresa," she said later on when she ran into her supervisor, "I just don't understand that guy!"
"What guy?" inquired the Oriental woman as she folded towels. And Lisa-Marie let loose with a flood of words describing James and her competition with Andrea. Since there was no one else she could talk to about this obsession, she really had a lot of pent-up things to say about the blue-eyed love-God.
She wound up by saying, "But he prefers older women so I guess that I don't stand a chance!" She looked very woebegone and was a little bit hurt when Theresa burst into a peal of laughter.
"Ah, c'mon honey! You mean you don't know?" Theresa's almond-shaped eyes twinkled at her in amazement and amusement.
"Know what? You mean you know who I'm talking about?" Lisa-Marie started helping to fold the towels as she eagerly awaited to hear more about James.
"Your James is certainly not new in the area. You must have just missed seeing him before because you were hanging around your rich friends in other parts of Huntington or else you were vacationing elsewhere. He has been showing up here as regularly as clockwork during the tourist season for the past five years. I almost fell flat on my face when I first saw him, too. I certainly wouldn't throw him out of my bed, honey." Theresa smacked her lips in appreciation.
"Well, you stand more of a chance with him than I do-though you're only thirty-five and he doesn't seem to like to dip below the fifty-year-old bracket. And you're also too pretty. Too bad. If you got to go to bed with him, then at least I could get-off on hearing you describe him." Lisa-Marie was failing miserably to work up a sour-grapes attitude.
Theresa threw back her head and really whooped when she heard this remark. "Listen," she said, "The only reason good old James isn't taking this fortune cookie on is because I don't have enough money. As a matter-of-fact, that's all that's standing between him and Andrea or you and him, for that matter."
"Money?" Lisa-Marie blinked her eyes in bewilderment. She stood stock-still, staring at her supervisor as she held a towel in her hands.
"Money," stated Theresa firmly. She folded a few more towels in silence before she stopped what she was doing and turned her full attention to the troubled young girl. "Honey, haven't you caught on yet? Your dreamboat is a male whore-a gigolo. And a very, very expensive and much-sought-after one at that. He rakes in a fortune here every summer and then he goes and spends it, and invests it, too, as I understand it, for the rest of the year. The hotel management turns their eyes discreetly from his activities because, very honestly, he brings a lot of very wealthy widows to this hotel simply because they've heard of him and want to meet him. And he gets a lot of return business, too, which means that the Barnaby also gets a lot of return business." The Oriental woman shook her head in admiration. "From the way these women fawn over him, I don't dare to try and think of what he does to please them. I've seen other handsome gigolos hang out around this resort, but none of them gets treated like a priceless gem by the old biddies like this fellow does. No, this James is someone very special. Forget about him, sweetie. He's not the kind of man for a young, pretty girl like you. Just hope and pray that when you're getting on in years and your husband is ignoring you, that you've got the kind of bucks it takes to spend some recreational time with a good whore like James."
In a manner of speaking, Theresa's words knocked Lisa-Marie on her ass. She wandered off to complete her duties for the day in a little dreamworld as she felt totally caught up in James. For some reason, the thought of him being a whore made him become a sort of appealing tragic figure to the young girl. Her fantasies that day ran the basic gamut of her rescuing the darling James from the lonely life of meaningless sex. She was also grimly aware that summer would be ending in a matter of less than a month and so far she hadn't yet managed to get into the pants of the two men she had vowed to Andrea that she would: Nigel, 'Mr. Aloof-preppie boy' and James the gigolo. Additionally, Andrea had been screwing left and right all summer long while weeks passed in between Lisa-Marie's erotic activities. She was so far behind her busty friend that there was positively no way she could catch up in the sheer quantity. However, she could at least outdo Andrea in quality if only she could manage to bag both Nigel and James. She began her hunt in earnest.
One day Lisa-Marie was standing out on a balcony of the Barnaby, shaking out a dust-mop, when she happened to see James strolling towards the hotel with his arm linked intimately with that of a dowager by the name of Mrs. Pratt. It was dusk, and the soft light made James' face look like a story-book prince's, and Lisa-Marie's heart went pitter-pat. She suddenly remembered Theresa's implication that James just had to be a masterful lover due to the adoring manner in which his many return-customers treated him. "I just wish I could know what goes on when he's alone with his clients," she whispered to herself as she gripped the balcony railing and stared down at the couple's heads as they disappeared up the veranda steps. Without clearly thinking out the consequences if she should get caught, Lisa-Marie suddenly dropped the dust-mop and ran pell-mell for Mrs. Pratt's room, which luckily happened to be just down the hall from where the balcony was. She pulled out her set of master keys and let herself into the widow's suite. Then she quickly darted into the closet, closing the door after her. The upper part of the closet door was constructed out of a series of slats with a slight amount of spacing between each one so that she had a relatively clear view of the room ... and the bed.
When she heard laughter and talk outside the hotel-room door and the sound of a key being turned in the lock, a flood of adrenalin burst through the young girl's trembling body and her eyes became wide with the fear she'd be discovered. What a stinking fool I am! she savagly reprimanded herself in her mind. This is the dumbest thing I've ever done in my entire life! And she tried to brace herself for what she thought would be inevitable-Mrs. Pratt would sense an alien presense and would call the police and, worst of all, James would be a witness to her disgrace.
"I'm just so delighted to have run into you again, James," said Mrs. Pratt as she walked into Lisa-Marie's line of vision.
"Yes-I've been on the lookout for you, too, Bernice. I have such lovely memories of our first encounter last summer!" James' voice did have a slight French accent. Lisa-Marie shivered when she saw the man's lean, lanky, and very desirable body appear through the slats of the closet door. She felt intoxicated by his very proximity and she yearned to be able to burst out from her hiding place and cup his small, adorable buttocks in her hands.
"Would you like to have a little drinkie, James?" Mrs. Pratt was standing over by a small bar thoughtfully provided by the hotel. The woman's hair was obviously dyed red and her severely made up eyes made her look like a wasp-woman. When she smiled, her teeth were brown with tobacco stains, and thousand of crepe-paper wrinkles appeared underneath the thick layer of pancake make-up and rouge on her face. Her spotted hands and long red fingernails made her look like some sort of transvestite lizard. In a word, repulsive.
"No thank you, Bernice, though it is most kind of you to offer," replied the man softly. Then in a more playful, flirtatious tone he added, "I want to be able to give my very best and most special attention to my favorite 'friend.' " James was partially facing the closet when he spoke these last words and, at long last, Lisa-Marie saw him smile. She felt lightheaded, like she had just hit the jackpot, for his face simply lit up like an angel's when his white teeth appeared in a grin. That smile alone, she thought, is worth $100. Now she didn't care if she were found out for she had never been so dazzled and aroused by a man as she now was by James. She didn't doubt that it would be possible for her to come from simply being kissed by such a man. He's made for fucking, she told herself. Her little pink tongue moved slowly along her pouting lips and she felt them swelling up slightly with the desire to be kissed.
Mrs. Pratt giggled foolishly at James' tasteful implication and she went ahead and made herself a Scotch on the rocks. While the lumpy, late-middle-aged woman had her back turned to James, Lisa-Marie saw him look at the clock with a rather businesslike expression on his handsome countenance. But he resumed a bright-eyed eagerness, though on a genteel, subdued level, pretending that he was controlling himself from simply leaping onto and ravishing the older woman when Mrs. Pratt came over to where he was.
"To meeting you again, James," she said, raising her glass in a toast to the tall, broad-shouldered man. She took a big gulp of the amber-colored liqueur. James' eyes glowed with lust as he stared down at the woman and he seemingly involuntarily reached out one hand and ran it down her shapeless side.
"Oh," sighed Mrs. Pratt, "I'd forgotten about what a naughty boy you are!" She allowed James to take her drink away from her and set it down on a nearby table. He then gripped the woman by her shoulders and slowly leaned down and kissed her. He folded his strong arms around the old crow and kissed her forever and ever, or so it seemed to the hidden voyeur. Lisa-Marie could see that his tongue was working some kind of voodoo on the woman as the widow's legs started trembling. Finally, he removed his mouth from the now lipstick-smeared lips of Mrs. Pratt. "Cherie," he whispered huskily, "you arouse me so much. I am sorry if I hurt you just now. I have to remember how delicate and frail my sweet little one is."
Lisa-Marie wanted to barf. How can he talk that way to a stalwart old reptile like that? But Mrs. Pratt obviously bought his words hook, line, and sinker. She batted her heavily made-up eyes rapidly, making her look like she had two epileptic spiders on her face.
"But I'm so old-old enough to be your mother!" she protested unconvincingly.
"I prefer a seasoned woman. A woman who is slightly older does much, much more for a younger man. You are doing me a favor by letting me make love to you in my clumsy fashion." As James spoke, his hands were rapidly and expertly stripping the woman's expensive clothes off her. He even seemed to know exactly how to remove her armor-like underwear with all of its myriad clasps and hooks. Soon, Mrs. Pratt was a naked lump of bread-dough in his arms. As he caressed her pendulous, drooping breasts, he kept up a continual patter of endearments which had even Lisa-Marie hypnotized. He rubbed her sagging belly and then began to toy with her grey-haired cunt. From her secret vantage point, the young girl could see that there was a bulge in his pants. She felt slightly depressed, for that bulge was the ultimate proof to her that he was indeed turned-on by old women.
He soon had Mrs. Pratt purring away, flat on her back on the bed like a sunbathing walrus. Her legs were spread apart and Lisa-Marie stared into the purplish, multitudinous folds of her cunt. All of a sudden, the young girl realized that Mrs. Pratt's body had its own special charm, that there was something appealing about the silly grin on the woman's face. Maybe it was because Mrs. Pratt looked so happy, or something.
Then, standing over the bed, his back to Lisa-Marie, James began to undress. A dizziness seized Lisa-Marie as the man peeled his shirt off. He was evenly tanned and his arms were perfectly muscled. His broad shoulders traveled down into a slim, lean waist and his little butt was so erotic to Lisa-Marie that she had to bite her knuckles to keep from moaning aloud. When he climbed onto the bed beside Mrs. Pratt, the girl could see his heavy balls swaying between his strong thighs. His cock was red and very erect. He proceeded to go into very extensive foreplay with the older woman, kissing and sucking her breasts, but mainly applying his tongue to her cunt. Lisa-Marie was at first very stimulated, but she soon became almost bored for it seemed to her rough estimate that a good halfhour had passed with James' head burrowed between the woman's blotchy thighs. But, since it was Mrs. Pratt's money that was at stake, James seemed to be incredibly patient. Just when Lisa-Marie thought she was going to go crazy and scream, "All right, already, so get on with it!" Mrs. Pratt began to whimper and twitch. James immediately stopped eating her twat and raised his wonderful body over hers to slide his cock into the woman's cavernous cunt.
Seeing James' buttocks contract as he pumped away fiercely on top of Mrs. Pratt's undulating body sent a marbling effect of renewed arousal through Lisa-Marie. She shifted slightly in the closet to ease the cramped feeling in her long legs. As she did so, she bumped lightly against some shoes, causing them to scrape somewhat. However, the noise didn't concern her as the widow was now lowing like a cow in response to James' talented cock. It was simply a matter of course for Lisa-Marie to hike her panties part of the way down and apply her index finger to her aching cunt. Her finger slid easily along her moist pleasure park and she rejoiced in the heady, tingling sensations she was giving herself. She now realized that James' secret of success was not only his attentiveness and ability to create an aura of fantasy, but the fact that he was very patient and took the time to stir up the now rarely used sexual juices of his clients.
Mrs. Pratt cried out and her red claws raked James' back as she climaxed. Within a stroke or two, James himself groaned as he came. Hearing the deep, bass sound of the man's sexual satisfaction heightened Lisa-Marie's excitement. However, she ceased probing her delicate cleft when the gigolo and Mrs. Pratt stopped their libidinous activity and proceeded to chat as they dressed. They were planning on going out and having dinner and seeing a show, much to Lisa-Marie's relief, for she knew that she was already late in reporting in to Theresa.
Jut as the beaming Mrs. Pratt was exiting from the room with her handsome escort, the man exclaimed, "Do you still have that pretty silk scarf that I like so much?"
"Why, yes!" simpered the widow, obviously pleased that her charming gigolo remembered.
"Let me get it for you," said James, and Lisa-Marie went into shock as she saw him approaching the closet with a determined look on his face.
I'm doomed, thought the young girl as he opened the door. When her eyes met and locked with his steely-blue ones, she was shocked to see that he didn't appear surprised. Instead, a slight, knowing smirk appeared on his face and he actually gave her half a smile-a conspiratorial smile as he snatched a blue scarf off a hook and then gently closed the closet door. When the girl heard the hotel door shut and the sound of their voices disappearing down the corridor, she slumped against the wall and whispered, "I'm in love!" It was only then that she realized that her panties were still down and that her uniform was pulled up just enough so that the gigolo must have seen her pink slit.