Chapter 5
He spoke in a voice full of authority and wasted no time choosing his words: "You get a certain percentage of these Conventioneers, they wouldn't touch a hooker on a bet. Some bring their wives along and that kind of puts a damper on any fun and games a man might like to have with some strange cunt, and most of them wouldn't turn it down if they had a crack at it. But you know how some wives are. Won't let a man get a foot away from them. So you can more or less take it for granted that some of the men booked into a convention aren't going to need a hooker.
"Then some of them bring along the girl friend: Take this bald-headed man from Kentucky. Every year when he comes to the Florist's Convention, he's got a new chick on his arm. A real old guy, you wouldn't think he could get it up any more to look at him but he must be some kind of a swinger because the girls he brings along all are stunning, and they don't step out of line, either. Every year, and the florists have been coming here for five years, he checks in with a different woman and says she's his wife. I got to talking to him one time and he leveled with me. Said he has a wife, all right, and she's a good woman, a good mother to his children, and they've got eighteen grandchildren and two great-grandchildren, but once a year he liked to indulge himself. Those were his words, too. Indulge himself. I don't know where he finds those beautiful women he brings here, but he certainly has himself a good time.
"About a third of the Conventioneers can be depended on to want a hooker and they don't mind coming flat out and saying so. Those are the ones you see get off the plane and before they've picked up their luggage they're yelling and laughing and cavorting around, saying, 'bring on the girls.' Back home they might be respectable businessmen, but when they get away from home they turn into studs. Something happens to a lot of people when they get away from home. You take a little old housewife from Missouri. You wouldn't believe the things she does when she comes here to the hotel. Back in Missouri she's the President of the Garden Club, a church leader and sings in the choir-but here she really cuts loose. Drinks herself silly, screws a different man every night, throws money around, too. I'm just telling you that to prove my point. It's getting away from home that does it. So when you've got three thousand men coming here, you know you've got to have a thousand girls lined up to take care of the one-third who expect a woman when they attend a convention.
"Then you have to have around five hundred for the ones who aren't decided. They're the ones you see hanging back. They want a pretty little thing who will make them feel young again and important, and give them the kind of sex they don't get back home. But they aren't going to come right out and say so. Instead, they say to one another, 'I've never paid a woman for sex in my life, and I don't intend to start now.' Those are the men who like to feel attractive enough to pick a woman up on their own. We have little side arrangements to keep these men from losing face. We include the price of the whore in the check. A whole lot of fun gets paid for under the miscellaneous column."
The convention under discussion was national in scope and political. Since there are only two major parties in the United States it wouldn't be prudent to state Which one it was any more than where it was taking place. So I'll call it the Republicrats National Convention, and you can choose your year. Which brought up another point: women.
While florists arranged centerpieces and caterers started to arrive with the food, the man I spoke with attended to a number of details that had to do with making everything ready for the kick-off banquet. Little flags marched up and down the long tables. The speakers and special guests had a table that was slightly elevated. It faced the major portion of conventioneers. It was decorated with bunting and each place setting had a single rose in a bud vase as well as a miniature flag which served as a place card. The centerpiece was bigger and more lavish at that table, too.
A glance at the place cards affirmed my sudden (and shameful, from the point of view of a longtime believer in equal rights for all including women) realization that men might not be the only ones arriving who might require some special services. Strange, I thought as I listened to my informant get into a hassle with the head bartender, how early concepts continue to hang right in there in spite of intellectual enlightenment. All along, my concept of a smoke-filled room of politicians had included only men. It irritated me to awaken to the idea that I was still a victim of early conditioning. The world of my youth was male-dominated. Men were doctors, lawyers, dentists, truck drivers, construction workers, storeowners, executives and politicians. Women were wives, mothers, whores, nurses, beauticians, secretaries and worked for men. A woman doctor came to town when I was about ten and moved away before I was eleven, because nobody was willing to believe a woman was capable of practicing medicine. A male prototype still leaps to mind when I think of the traditionally male-dominated professions, though I keep fighting it. So I determined to ask about arrangements being made for the sexual pleasure of the female politicians.
The convention manager finished the heated discussion with the head bartender. By then the place had taken on the aura of a true banquet complete with the heady fragrance of roses and carnations and the rush-rush-rush of waitresses and waiters attending to last minute details. Ice tinkled as water glasses were filled. A few early arrivals came in and hung back, glancing around at the banquet tables, shuffling their feet and looking important. They wore nametags that included their state, county and particular political office. A dumpy looking little woman from one of the eastern seaboard states clumped around in a pair of wedgies that squeaked every time she took a step. She wore a mink stole, a stiff, fresh-from-the-beauty-salon hairdo and a determined look. Her name tag said she was the County Chairperson from a town I'll call Zilch, in Whopping County, Maine. Her voice was rather shrill as she spoke to her companion, a greying blonde from Montana. "I hope the food doesn't give me indigestion. As much as it costs, it certainly does look like they could see to it that it tastes good." Her eyes, however, were not on the tables. Instead, they were locked hotly on a young, creamy-skinned busboy who looked as if he belonged on a motion picture set. As she spoke she made a vague gesture toward her groin, probably unconsciously.
The Montana woman was a delegate. I couldn't hear what she said, but her attitude was not like her companion's. She looked all around as she spoke, apparently more interested in the political aspects of the convention than anything else. The two women parted company when they found that the seating arrangements didn't place them together. A rather vague expression of relief was in the Montana woman's eyes as she headed toward her own group.
A number of other people began to fill the convention hall. There was a lot of laughter and talking. While the handsome young busboy made the rounds of the tables with coffee, the dumpy looking little woman from Maine continued to cast meaningful glances in his direction. Before long she managed to get herself situated in between a couple of tables where the young boy was forced either to look directly at her or turn and walk down the aisle with his back to her. He chose the latter, and his face reflected confusion. She put a commanding hand on his shoulder and her voice was full of authority when she said, "Just a second, please."
Turning, the boy looked down at her with an uncertain but polite smile. "Yes, ma'am?"
She turned coy as she moved in on him, her breasts appearing to jiggle, the upper portion of her body making amorous movements as she almost, but not quite, made body contact. The words she spoke were lost in the general hubbub, but it was apparent that she'd said something that took the boy by surprise. His cheeks turned red and his head snapped back. Her face took on a cunning, persuasive look and her hands patted the purse she carried. The boy continued to look taken aback for a second or two, then his big brown expressive eyes widened as he nodded. From across the room I could see what she wrote on the piece of paper she took out of her purse. It was her room number.
Carlos: "When I got this job as busboy I considered myself very lucky, because this hotel is one of the finest on the strip, and I had heard that there is a chance for advancement. You see, I go to the University and if I did not find employment I would have been forced to go back to Mexico for the summer. The first two years I lived here in the United States I worked in a hospital, but as time goes on I require more money to get by.
"I consider myself lucky to have this position, but, you see, I come from a very religious family and in the beginning I was not able to understand exactly what was expected of me regarding women, and when I did understand, I didn't really believe it.
"Please do not misunderstand. I knew of sex, for I am a normal man, and all normal men have these drives. Also, I learned to speak English when I was a very young child, perhaps the year before I went to school. Nevertheless, I was not in complete understanding about the women customers, because even though I speak English fluently, I am not aware of all the slang words or expressions. It was my impression that I was to service these women only in the area of taking care of their coffee or tea, making sure there were plenty of hot rolls and butter on the table, that kind of thing. A regular busboy's job, you understand. It did seem to me that the amount of money I would be paid by each individual I serviced was a lot for such menial tasks. At the same time, in my country we are brought up to believe that most North American women are exceedingly rich and throw their money around carelessly. I also grew up believing that American women are without morals, at least for the most part. But after I came to this country I learned that much of what I believed about North American women was a myth. Girls here are very much like girls in Mexico. Some of them allow sexual privileges, others do not.
"Now we come to this woman, this Anna. I saw her looking at me from across the room that day of the Republicrat Convention, which was my very dirst day on the job. More than once our glances met, but as far as I knew it was merely coincidence. Then, there between the tables, I could see that I would have to walk around her if I were to continue going in the direction in which I started. And so it was that I turned around, for I did not wish to inconvenience a customer of the hotel. It surprised me very much when she put her hand on my shoulder, but when she spoke I did not know how to answer. She said, 'Are you available, honey?'
"'Yes. Of course,' I said, still thinking she meant available for some kind of service I was not as yet familiar with.
"Then she said back to me, 'If you are half as good as you look, you'll be worth every dollar. Do you like to eat cunt?'
"I wanted to run away from her, for even though I did not understand what Mr. Johnny said to me in the full context, I certainly did know what the word 'cunt' meant.
"To be quite honest, I had never been terribly interested in going down on a girl. Once I tried it with a very fast and loose girl at home, but the smell made me turn my head away, and even though she kept insisting that I do it, I could not bring myself to. You must remember that I went to church every Sunday with my parents and younger brothers and sisters, and confession is part of my religious belief. To put one's tongue on the parts of a woman that are covered and secret is a sin, for it is an unnatural act. I do not know how I answered Anna, but whatever I said must have led her to believe that I-indulge in relations with my own sex. She laughed and said she would soon get me over that kind of thing, or something of that nature. And then she said she would give me one hundred dollars if I spent the night with her. For that kind of money I would have spent the night with the devil."
Anna: "Rufus, that's my husband, was spoiled rotten by his mother. She taught him he was better than anybody else and deserved everything he wanted. Then he was blessed with a handsome face and a talent on the football field, as well as good grades, so he was the darling of Marling High School when I met him. And I mean darling, too. Everyone adored him, students and teachers alike.
"When we moved to Marling I was a sophomore and Rufus was a senior. I was about the cutest little thing you ever saw back in 1940, and it didn't take Rufus very long to see that. He was irresistible, and besides that, I knew all the other girls in school were wild about him, so it'd be a feather in my cap if I started going with him. We made out in the back seat on our very first date. I was a virgin, but I was pretty disappointed. He went off like a jackrabbit. It didn't hurt much, but it didn't feel very good, either. I remember wondering what the hell made sex so great if that was all there was to it. But I always read a lot, and back in those days women had to toady to men. It was the way things were. So I pretended I went off, too. You know, did a lot of moaning and groaning because I knew it was expected of me. Maybe I was being careful about Rufus' ego in, a way-but mostly I think I was making sure I did my best to keep him. You know, make him think he was Mr. Super-Stud himself.
"That sort of set the pattern for our future. Rufus considered me an easy lay, but he considered all the girls he ever went with easy lays, because they were. Maybe I was the best actress, hell, I don't know why he kept hanging around and taking me out. We didn't really go much of anyplace because he didn't have a lot of money to throw around on dates, but it was worth the price I had to pay to keep him. I mean, it wasn't any big thing for me to screw him and pretend I adored it. That is, it didn't hurt me any until I got pregnant. Then I was scared to death.
"By then I was a junior and Rufus was in college. He lived at home, though. If I had it to do all over again, I'd never marry him, but in 1941 girls who got in trouble got married. My son was four years old and my daughter two before I ever got any good out of sex, and then it wasn't with Rufus. He just never was any good in the sack, and that's all there is to it, but we stayed together and raised our family, and he did well in his business. Looking back, it was as much my fault as Rufus' that he didn't make me come. I started out. wrong with him in the first place by pretending it was so great when it was never anything but a chore. After you've been pretending for such a long time, it's not easy to come out and tell your husband you've been lying all those years-just putting on a show. So I kept seeing the man down the street on the sly. His wife was frigid. At least that was what he said. I bet Rufus told his girl friends his wife was frigid, too, because I used every excuse I could think of not to screw him. Of course, I didn't know my husband had girl friends for a long time. Didn't suspect a thing until he brought me home a dose of clap after he'd been to a convention in New York City. But I didn't throw a fit or anything because, after all, I hadn't exactly been true myself. But I did know George didn't have the clap, so I knew who gave it to me.
"After that, Rufus couldn't get it up any more. We stayed together, and we're good friends. I wouldn't get a divorce if you paid me to. Maybe I love my husband, in a way. I know I would be heartbroken if he died. George died a few years ago and that nearly killed me. We'd been carrying on in secret and getting away with it for years, and I loved him, too. I'm a very loving woman.
"Getting used to not having any sex was one thing I couldn't do. With George it was wonderful. Just think, I'd never had anyone but those two men. One was no good and the other great. Well, after George died, I took a good look at myself and realized I couldn't attract men the way I did when I was young and small and cute. My middle had thickened and my face was sagging, and well ... I just didn't have what it took any more. I even tried to help Rufus get over his impotence again. Not that I didn't try very hard when it first came on him, but nothing helped. Rufus was about as inhibited as a man can get. George was a real lover. He had a lot of Latin in him, and making love came pretty much second nature to him, I guess. At least that was the way we got started, and I just adored it. But when I tried to suck Rufus' cock for him he had a terrible fit, and his opinion of men who go down on women is pretty bad. So I didn't try that again after George died, but I tried everything else.
"Well, anyway, I just couldn't get along without sex. Tried doing it for myself, but after almost thirty years of the very best sex with a man, masturbation was a poor substitute. I even went out and bought some dildos, and if you can believe it, I tried it with another woman. Everyone in town knew Frankie-(her real name is Frances, but she likes Frankie best because it sounds more masculine). We all knew she was a dyke and it wasn't any problem for me to get next to her. I just couldn't hack it.
"Don't get the idea that I'm a prude. I don't have a thing against homosexuality. Oh, when I was young, I thought men who did it with other men and women who did it with other women were terrible, but we all thought so. Now I can see it. It's a personal preference, and that's all there is to it. I like a man's arms around me. I like the so-lidness of a man. Oh, well, that's getting off the subject.
"A friend of mine got me interested in politics. She's always been very big in the party, and with the children married and gone I decided to get involved, mainly because maybe if I took up an active interest in something, I might forget about that continual ache and emptiness in my body.
"Back home I would never get away with paying a man to take care of me, but once I learned how men politicians take on hookers, I decided I was just as good as any man, and I truly believe I have every right a man has.
"Carlos isn't the first boy I've purchased for the night and he won't be the last. But once I got him over his inhibitions, I'll tell you this much: He's about the best."
Later, I put their interesting incident together from what they told me.
When he went to her room after the speeches were all over and the big banquet room was no longer in the need of the services of a busboy, he was having doubts. His mind was ready to accept the hundred dollars but his instincts were repelled at the idea of making love to a woman as old as Anna appeared. The room was 1131. He walked past it three times before he could make himself knock.
"She opened the door right away, and she was naked. I was shocked. There wasn't going to be any playing around with this woman. By her attitude, I felt she didn't even care if she got a kiss.
"Actually she looked better without any clothes on than when she was dressed. Her body was not as heavy as I had thought. She was built solidly and for some reason or other her waistline appeared more-how do you say it-supple. And her legs looked much longer. They were rather delicate looking, those legs, and perfectly shaped. And she had washed the makeup off her face, which made her look softer and younger. Strange. I would think an older woman would look better with the face inade up, but in her case, it seemed to accentuate the lines and wrinkles when it was on. And she smelled lovely, something like jasmine, but not as strong.
"She was trembling and I could see right away that she needed me. Right away, her hand went to my cock and, although I wasn't sure she would be able to make it hard, I had no trouble. Somehow, the young girls I wanted faded away from my mind when I was with this healthy, frank, very aroused woman. She tore away my clothes as she led me to the bed and she was panting ever so slightly. I don't mean that she ripped them, but it gave me the impression that she would, almost any minute. Her hand began to milk up and down on my cock and my senses grew steamy hot. Her breasts were nice. They sagged somewhat, but they didn't hang down as I had expected them to, considering her age. There was no mark on her skin to show that she had worn a bra when dressed, and those breasts were very sensitive to my touch. The nipples hardened immediately, and they grew even harder when my thumb and finger began to rotate them. She moaned with pleasure and trembled harder. 'Oh, fuck me hard. I can't stand to wait any longer!'
"Her eyes were all rolled up in the back of her head and the breath was coming fast and hot from her mouth. I asked her if she wanted me to mount her on top and she screamed that she did, to hurry. At that time, she was on her back, crosswise on the bed. I remember wanting to get her head on the pillow but she was in such a state of urgency that I...."
Anna: "I was going out of my mind. All during the banquet and those ridiculous after-dinner speeches I kept looking at him and the crotch of my panties was as wet as water. I kept dripping and the longer I waited the hotter I got. I thought I'd die with need.
"It's doubtful if I heard any of the speeches. Through my mind rushed this delectable scene of the way it would be between this handsome young man, and me. Other pictures flowed through my brain, too, that made me, even wilder with desire. I'd think about George and the way he used to suck on my clit. He had a way of running his tongue round and round on it that sent me right into multiple orgasms. Once I came sixteen times while George was eating me out, then I fainted and scared poor George half out of his mind.
There's no explaining the passion I had for this boy whose name I didn't even know-not until afterwards. In a way, I think he reminded me of George with all that dark hair and his fantastic skin. The way he walked, too.
"As cocks go, Carlos didn't have a big one. Maybe it was a six-incher. But he was kind and interested, and I'm no fool, you know. I could see in his eyes that he was repelled at the idea of screwing me when I first talked to him. He's too young to be a good pretender, and I think I probably shocked him, too. The thing is, I was pretty sure there were men around for the purpose of screwing the women at the convention. There always are. And when I saw him, I guess I just took it for granted that he was one of them. It wasn't until he came into the room that I realized I had a novice. But getting back to it, to the way he behaved, I mean, I could tell that when he saw me in the nude he liked what he saw.
"Oh, that delicious, delightful, darling prick of his! I was so slick and so hot. It slid right in, but it felt big and full of life. I went utterly wild, but he stayed right in there and I went off within a couple of minutes."
Carlos: "It was so different with her. Refreshing. The young women don't respond that way. If they do feel anything, I think they might be too reserved to admit it. The way Anna was with me made me sure of myself. She wrapped her legs around my back and locked her feet together at the ankles. I looked in the mirror once to see how she managed that. There was a mirror above the dresser and it was tilted at an angle to show almost the entire bed with us on it. I couldn't help going into her hard and fast because she set the pace and it was clear to me that she wanted to be fucked as violently as I could fuck her. When she came her pussy sucked and gobbled on my cock. It was like nothing I've ever experienced before, but then of course, I hadn't been with a lot of women at that time. Still, I've never felt another woman contract on me the way Anna did. And I could feel her come, too. Suddenly it rolled all around the head of my pulsating cock and I felt drenched in it.
"After that, she calmed down and took time out to kiss and caress. It was a beautiful experience, something I shall never forget. And I will always be grateful for it."
They bathed together. The hotel was equipped with sumptuous bathrooms and the tub was a square one. They worked up a lot of lather and sudsed one another all over their bodies, but before they were finished rinsing, Anna had Carlos' cock in her mouth.
"Young men are far superior to older ones," she said in fond and slightly wistful memory. "Such smooth, taut skin. Such stamina. Do you know, Carlos was ready to fuck again within fifteen minutes!"
She said they fucked missionary-position the next time around. Then they slept for a while. "But half an hour later, Carlos' cock was hard again. He'd remained where he was, on top of me, and with his cock still in. What a heavenly thing it was to wake up with his magnificent cock inside me, lurching and growing bigger. We went on and on and on, all night long, and I think we tried it every way we'd ever heard of or read about, every position we could think of."
I asked her how she felt about giving money to a man. She smiled. "At first ... I mean, the very first time I handed money to a man I felt depressed. We're brought up to believe women are giving in to a man, you know. At least my generation felt that way. It's as if we're doing the man a favor and he owes us. Women, I mean. I think most people still feel that way down deep in their guts, because it's been customary for the woman to be passive for so long. Women have to wait for a man to ask them for a date. At least they did in my day. I think young people with their more open attitude toward sex have a better understanding of themselves; but even in the younger generation you'll find a lot of girls still playing that waiting game. They hang on to their virginity because they're taught they must. Nobody comes right out and tells a young girl to keep her cherry because it's the most marketable asset she has, but the idea is still part of our culture. A man offers to marry a woman and take care of her in exchange for steady sex, and some men still expect to get a virgin. A lot of women are taught right from the cradle that if they get out and screw around, they're going to be ruined. Well, I felt that way myself. You know, after Rufus and I screwed that first time, I was spoiled merchandise. I remember my mother telling me nobody wants to buy a cake from the bakery that has a slice taken out of it already. She used that gem in one of her little talks with me when I was very young.
"That long, long affair I had with George was probably the best thing that ever happened to me. He was very important to me, and he didn't feel that I was somebody else's property. What I'm trying to say is that he gave me a sense of worth when he gave me his love. Probably, if it hadn't been for George, I would never have been able to go out and shop around for a man in these later years.
"But to answer your question-I did find it very hard to pay a man the first time I did it. Of course by the time I met Carlos I was accustomed to it. It dawned on me one day that I'd been mouthing all those things about equality of the sexes, but I didn't really believe them because of my background. At about the same time, I admitted to myself that I would probably feel less awkward if the situation were reversed ... that is, if I were in the position of accepting money in exchange for sex. Somehow, that angered me, so after a while I changed my whole concept of the way things are between men and women. I just took a good look at myself in the mirror and I said, 'Anna, damn it to hell, you have just as much right to sex as a man, so just stop feeling that way.' After a while I was able to peel off a bunch of bills to pay for sex with as much unconcern as I did when I paid for, say, a pair of shoes.
Carlos: "Anna will always remain one of my fondest memories. She was a loving woman with great warmth, and she taught me so many things about sex that I hadn't even dreamed of. But when I marry and have children, I sincerely hope that my daughters will remain virtuous until they marry. And I believe I will be very upset if I become wed to a woman and find out later that she's been with another man."