Read The Unforgiving Minute Online
Authors: Unknown
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