J. Donleavy - Schultz

“Well if you say so. I guess you just made me an invitation it would be a shame to refuse.”

Schultz tiptoed heading for the farthest sofa by the curtained window. Putting his victuals on a side table, lowering himself into this ringside seat. And to make sure he was still in London, leaning to peek out through a parting in the gauze at the towering cotton ball trees of the park. The endless stream of cars and red tops of buses and black throbbing taxis roaring by below.

“Come on Herbie. Don’t suddenly pretend you’re all bashful. And gee please, we don’t mind Mr. Schultz if you want to watch. And help yourself to fruit in the basket there.”

Schultz settling back in the sky blue satin covered chair. Crossing his morning suited legs as he took out and put on his sunglasses. Choosing a pear with one hand, lifting his beer bottle to his lips with the other. A small bare arsed pert titted Sylvia, climbing up on top of chunky hairy Herbie and slowly lowering her arse astride his stumpy thick prick. Sylvia two hands behind her, fingers flickering, squeezing and flapping Herbie’s balls. And with a slowly increasing tempo, gyrating and wagging her shoulders. Till suddenly her head flung back, and her arse and thighs erupting into corkscrew paroxysms, she emitted breathless grunts, moans and groans.

“O gee Herbie, it’s bending.”

“Sylvia, take it easy.”

Sylvia falling forward on top of Herbie. The sound of flesh slapping flesh as Schultz administered squeezed lemon drops to the remaining pink slivers of smoked salmon. Forking a piece up on to a corner of brown buttered bread and pushing it between his lips. With a swig of beer washing the orange fleshed fish down one’s throat. While now hearing whispers coming from the bed.

“Jesus christ Sylvia just because you have an audience, don’t go try and break it.”

Schultz loosening his tie. From his breast coat pocket, pulling forth his beige silk hanky monogrammed with three large interwoven S’s. Wiping beads of sweat from his brow. The bottom of the beer bottle tapping uncontrollably on the table as Schultz lowered it in a trembling hand. Removing his sunglasses to quickly polish them and place them back over his eyes. Tints the scene nicely. These days you don’t know which people’s personal ethics are on holiday. Really thought they were meditating in here instead of screwing their heads off. Shows what my recent problems have done to my brain. Real democracy must include the right to throw a fuck into somebody and to be seen doing it. While my prick is going to explode. The way she uses her magical ass she must sense there are already enough people on the globe that you’ve got to find something else beautiful to do with your libido than produce babies. Shows you have to keep going out into the world to see where the fuck it has morally advanced without you. Leapfrogging into lewdness on his Lordship’s wedding day. If only I could find some long term, daily two o’clock, peaceful low cost fucking. Without blackmail. Without a wedding. Without having my house ruined. Without ambulances calling. Now even a sparrow has landed chirping outside on the window sill to watch. Sylvia’s no great shakes in the face but, wow, the rest of her being like that, who needs a face. Which she has turned around now and is looking at me. Holy cow, after her performance, maybe I should be clapping for an encore.

“Mr. Schultz, gee, you’re kind of left there. Out in the cold.”

“No problem, kids.”

“Hey what’s that. All that clip clop clattering.”

“I’ll take a look. It’s the horse guards. On their way down to the palace.”

“O gee isn’t London so kind of excitingly historic. And Mr. Schultz, you don’t have to just go on keeping sitting there like that.”

“No problem, I’m fine.”

“Well gee maybe wouldn’t you like to join us or something.”

“You mean come over there and join you.”

“Sure.”

“In bed.”

“Sure. While Herbie takes a rest. Or is that kind of a problem.”

“No problem. I guess like I said previously it’s an invitation it would be a shame to refuse.”

“Well come on then.”

“If you say so.”

“I say so Mr. Schultz. But hey hold it. I mean don’t you want to take off your clothes.”

“You mean like take them off.”

“Yeah why not, unless like it embarrasses you.”

“No problem.”

Schultz, struggling to get his grey tail coat off, ripping the seam further down the back. Garment now hanging attached in two halves by its collar. The waistcoat with a footprint of a detective still on it. I’m telling you. Don’t ruin the rented clothes is the understatement of the year. Tie stained, buttons missing on my shirt. Shoot these braces off my shoulders. Holy cow, look at her. What a beautiful rippling belly. Propped up by her double jointed arms. Leaning back on the bed like she’s waiting for me. Her for sure double jointed spine arched like a bow. With her mesmerizing cross eyed pair of bouncing tits blazing. And pear shaped Herbie with his big hairy arse rolled over like a collapsed walrus.

“Gee I like the nice bright colour of your suspenders Mr. Schultz.”

“Well they keep the trousers up I guess.”

“And my gosh. Gee wow. O boy Mr. Schultz. Gee wow. When you drop them, that’s really big. It really is. O Herbie. Look at what Mr. Schultz has, something out of the record books.”

“Sylvia swell, but don’t bother me a minute to take the nap I need.”

“Gee Mr. Schultz, it’s wonderful. And what two nice balls. Take off your shoes and socks why don’t you.”

“Holy christ honey with the way surprises are exploding around me, I forgot they were still on.”

Schultz yanking shoelaces undone, and digging the heel of one shoe in the instep of the other and ripping out his foot.

“Hey leave the socks on, the sunglasses too Mr. Schultz it kind of gives me a kick.”

“No problem.”

Sylvia reaching out with undulating inviting fingers to welcome Schultz’s record breaking pudenda advancing across the light green carpet. Jesus christ, suddenly this expensive suite is beginning to pay dividends. One second I’m being embarrassed out of my mind prostrate at the feet of dignitaries and next in that good old American let’s make friends tradition, my pulse is pounding with the prospect of doing what comes naturally.

“Wow. O Wow. Look what’s sprouting out of those black curly locks you got.”

“Honey you’re not so bad either.”

“Mr. Schultz O my god. You have no idea. I swear you don’t. Of what this is doing to me. No kidding. Hey just stand a fraction back. So I can really view.”

“No problem.”

“Mr. Schultz it is beautiful, beautiful. O hey wow, stand in profile.

“Fantastic, fantastic, Mr. Schultz. Herbie, the camera, get the camera.”

“Honey, the flattery is appreciated but please no god damn pictures, Jesus christ.”

“O. Not even one.”

“Not even one, honey. And is it all you want me to do is just make me just stand here.”

“O gee, gosh, I’m sorry. Step right over.”

Schultz approaching in his best bedside manner. Down in the street fire apparatus bells clanging. A snore erupting from Herbie. Sylvia running her fingertips up and down the underside of Schultz’s erection.

“Mr. Schultz, no kidding it should be cast in bronze for posterity.”

“Never mind casting, keep touching honey. You got magic fingers.”

“A perfect prick deserves perfect petting.”

“And how, honey. And how.”

“Gee we should waste not a second Mr. Schultz, let’s get going. Fuck me.”

“No problem.”

Two bodies clapping together. Schultz’s sunglasses hanging off caught on an ear. Sylvia heading backwards towards the pillow, two legs shooting out into the air locking in a scissor grip around Schultz. Who broad jumped upwards from the woolly carpet. To plunge into these soft entwining arms and squeezing strong legs. Another snore from Herbie. Sylvia’s mouth biting, her hips squirming and turning and tossing Schultz over crashing into Herbie who went arse thumping out of bed on the floor.