The Unforgiving Minute (17 page)

BOOK: The Unforgiving Minute
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that by tapping my supply of chocolate from Switzerland. I had

used up my Swiss coins by stocking up at Geneva Airport.

I sat there, munching a chocolate bar, passing the time

until I was to meet a woman I wouldn’t ordinarily look at twice

for dinner at a time that was abhorrent to me as dinnertime.

I napped for perhaps an hour and a half and woke up

feeling pretty good. I imagined what it would have been like if

Lee had come as scheduled and savored the idyll it might have

been. Again, however, I managed to cleanse my mind of all

thoughts of Lee. Instead, I thought of Ann Marie and realized

that whenever I really needed someone, it was her I thought of.

I decided that as soon as the time element was propitious I would

go against my word and call her. Perhaps she would fly over and

we could achieve a closeness we had only dreamed of for all these

years.

At precisely ten, I left my room and took the elevator

down to the dining room. The room was quite large and at first I

couldn’t see her, but there she was sitting at a table with a

garden view, sipping a glass of Portuguese green wine. I was

dressed in a white blazer, navy blue mohair pants, and a pale

blue shirt with a red and blue paisley tie. I felt that I cut a

dashing figure walking through the restaurant, and felt as if I

were walking on air instead of on my eight-hundred-dollar black

ostrich loafers.

She was dressed in a simple black dress and wore black

hose. She had simple silver pendant earrings hanging from her

lobes and wore an unobtrusive silver necklace. Her hair had been

washed and was now piled on her head and I could see that she

really wasn’t that bad-looking. She was, however, overweight and

enormously top-heavy. She also was quite bottom-heavy. I

remembered thinking when I first saw her at the pool, lying on

her stomach, that one could set a table for four on her ass.

What we had here was a woman with a good face and good legs and

everything in between was a bit too large.

From the onset, there was no doubt about who was running

the show. She was most definitely in charge. If anyone was

manipulating, it was her. This was a total role reversal for me.

“Sit down, please,” she said with an air of authority.

“I was surprised to get your call,” I said. “I really

thought you didn’t like me very much and considered me kind of

strange.”

She smiled sardonically and spoke slowly. “Mr.

Boyd Robert I’m not sure that I do like you and I do consider you

kind of a strange, misguided man. Let me be very candid with

you. I told you this afternoon that my husband and I have a free

and open relationship. I also told you that neither of us could

ever fall in love with someone else. I do, however, like to have

a little adventure now and then with no chance of involvement. I

am sure that he does as well. Physically, you are a very

attractive man but in all other ways you fall very short of my

ideal. After you started to talk to me this afternoon, I sensed

that you were trying to seduce me, perhaps for the very same

reason. In other words, we are perfectly safe for each other.”

I shook my head smiling. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything. After all of the women you’ve used,

you are going to be used tonight. How does it feel?”

I could feel an erection starting and the prospect, I had

to admit, was very enticing. “Kind of exciting,” I said. “As

soon as I can rustle up a drink, we’ll drink to it.”

We bumped glasses and drank to what was to be one of the

more interesting evenings of my life.

“Oh, and by the way,” she said, “I’m paying. I don’t want

to be beholden to you in any way. Agreed?”

“D’accord,” I said in my best French and looked to the menu

to choose my fare for the evening.

The meal was delicious. I had a fish stew that was very

tasty, complemented by the excellent Portuguese vinho verde or

green wine. The meal was consistent with my current mode of

eating, which was physical-fitness oriented, courtesy of the

Swiss spa. Yvonne, however, could really put it away. She

started with a shrimp cocktail followed by a large salad,

followed by lobster tails with a baked potato drowned in sour

cream and a creamed squash. For dessert, I had a fresh orange

cut into slices and a cup of strong black coffee. She had French

pastry and caf´e au lait.

She sat there, wiping her mouth with a napkin, leering at

me as if she were a cat with a cornered mouse.

“I’m going to enjoy this very much. I’ll give you a

chance, right now, to run from me. If not, you are at your own

risk.”

With this, she burst into laughter that was almost

maniacal in its character. I couldn’t figure this woman out.

She was playing with me as if she were an eminently desirable

international beauty instead of a heavy, middle-aged, marginally

attractive woman. I had to restrain myself from telling her how

lucky she was to get a man like me into bed and to list the

beautiful women I bedded in my time. Instead, I smiled at her

weakly and played her little game. There was a bit of anger

swelling up in me but I was vulnerable as hell at this time and

she knew it.

“Your place or mine?” I said and added my own little

giggle.

She looked at me with a serious mien. “Mine, of course; I

wouldn’t have it otherwise. We must be in my domain. If we were

in your room it would give you an advantage.”

“Jesus,” I thought to myself, “this is like a goddamn

athletic contest, complete with home-field advantage.”

“Allons,” she said, “It is time for the main event of the

evening.”

Then she actually took me by the hand and led me out of

the dining room. I don’t mean she held hands with me. I mean

she literally dragged me out of there as if I were her small

child.

On the elevator to her room she looked at me lasciviously.

“My little toy … Oh, I’m going to have such fun playing

with you.”

When we entered her room, I was speechless. She had a

suite on the top floor with a balcony in every room. The living

room was richly furnished and the floor was polished brick-red

tile. The bedroom was something else. Tiled floor with an

ornate area rug and a canopied queen-size bed. The balcony door

was open and a soft breeze was blowing across the room.

She turned to me and gave explicit instructions.

“Take off all of your clothes and lay on the bed. Don’t

get under the covers. There is a bottle of Spanish brandy and

two snifters on the night table. Pour us some brandy and wait

for me. I’ll be in soon.”

I did as I was instructed and stretched out, totally

naked, sipping the excellent Spanish brandy. She took her time.

For a moment, I thought the whole plot was to have me lay there,

naked, and she would never show up, but I was so wrong.

In what seemed like an endless fifteen minutes, the double

louvered doors to the bedroom opened and she entered. The scene

was so ludicrous that my first impulse, which luckily I held at

bay, was to laugh. She wore a short negligee cut into an A-line,

the purpose of which was to mask her large figure in a tent-like

gossamer garment. However, the breeze blowing through the window

crept under the garment and ballooned it out, making it look

about twice as large as it was. What I saw looked like a

gigantic transparent tent with a woman’s head and legs sticking

out of it. She just stood there, posing, and I could see her

body through the transparent material. Her breasts were

enormous. They were by far the largest I had ever seen. Her

heavy body appeared to be remarkably firm for its girth and was

devoid of folds of fat or hanging flesh. The result was not

totally unattractive. She was like a Reuben painting, heavy but

certainly not disgusting.

The scene was almost ethereal. I lay there naked, a soft

breeze cooling my body, and she walked slowly across the room

with the breeze blowing through her peignoir. She walked to the

brandy bottle and poured two snifters about halfway up the glass.

With that, she untied the peignoir and let it drop to the floor.

Her body, with all its girth, was strangely attractive in the

diffused mixture of moonlight and outdoor lighting that came

through the open balcony door. She was large but firm, and even

her large breasts had a surprising firmness. There were no

dents, no folds, and, as far as I could see, no blemishes. I

reached over to pull her to me and she backed away coyly.

“Oh, no, monsieur, do not perform for me. I am, how do

you say, boss here. Just lie there like a good boy and I will do

the work.” She took one of the brandy glasses and walked to the

front of the bed, all the while sipping her brandy slowly. I

looked at her fierce and overwhelming buttocks as she seductively

moved forward. They were like two perfect basketballs or maybe

medicine balls that had been inflated as far as they could smooth

and firm. I wanted to touch them, feel them, but I was under her

domineering spell. She knelt on the foot of the bed, walking

toward me on her knees, glass in hand, always with that evil, sly

grin on her face. As she lowered her mouth to my genitals, she

slowly poured the brandy into my pubic hairs so that they were

saturated to a point where the brandy ran down the shaft of my

ever-growing penis. She then proceeded to lick off all the

brandy. Then, taking a mouthful of the brandy, she took my penis

in her mouth. The brandy burned somewhat, but the feel of her

tongue and palate through the brandy was fantastically erotic and

I felt as if I were going mad. I squirmed and groaned more

audibly than I had ever done. After swallowing the brandy, she

sucked, licked, and bit me alternately to the point where I

almost lost control, all the while holding the still half-filled

brandy glass. After what seemed like a long time, she released

me and in one motion turned on her back, poured the brandy into

her own pubic area and pulled my head between her legs, using my

hair as her handle. I plunged in enthusiastically. By this time

I was so erotically stimulated that I was her love slave. She

was extraordinarily wet and had a softness about her that made me

want to stay in the shelter of this warm, moist place. I

returned her skillful oral stimulation with my own and was

stimulated anew by the moans no, screams that were emanating from

her mouth.

She released herself from my ministrations and stood away

from the bed, hands on hips, and looked at me lying on my back,

disheveled and hungry looking, with my immense erection throbbing

and pointed toward the ceiling. The evil smile returned.

“Ah, mon joujou, my toy, how shall I use you next?”

She straddled me and slid down my erect penis and

proceeded to move up and down, hard and fast. I reached my hands

to her buttocks and they were smooth and firm and pleasantly

erotic to touch. She leaned down and dropped one of her

pendulous breasts into my mouth, which I sucked with grateful

passion. I was at that stage of control where I could last for a

long time. Our collective noises must surely have been heard all

through Portugal. She must have stayed in that position for an

hour, her orgasms coming one after the other. I didn’t know

whether this was the ultimate sex fantasy or a sex nightmare.

I was roughly maneuvered into many positions, all of which

I handled well. It was a wonderful experience. I knew that I

wanted much more of this incredible woman, but I also knew that I

would never fall in love with her.

“Let’s take a break,” I said, feeling at the point of

exhaustion.

She looked at me with derision in her eyes. “Why would I

want a break to talk to you? What is there to talk about? When

I am finished I will tell you and then you can leave. A break?

Hah!”

I felt like telling her to shove it and walking out but

she really had me. I didn’t have the guts or the inclination to

leave. I wanted more of her. All I could get.

I looked at her pleadingly. “Well, we could stop now and

continue this tomorrow if you like … and then … “

She laughed and tossed her head. “I told you, there will

be no tomorrow. You are, as they say, a one-night stand a very

fine plaything for the evening, perhaps one of the best I’ve ever

had. Tomorrow I will not know you. If I pass you, I will not

even say hello. If, during my stay, I am inclined to have

another toy, which is doubtful, then I will find someone else.

You and I are pass´e after tonight. How do you like that,

Monsieur Suave International Lover eh?”

I was speechless. I couldn’t think of a thing to say.

Instead, I went back to my job of love slave and pleased her as

she wished.

An hour later, she literally threw me out. There was no

kiss goodbye, no hug, no kind words. Part of her pleasure was

treating a man like so many of us had treated women for

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