J. Donleavy - Schultz

“Hey christ Sylvia, watch what you’re doing.”

Schultz and Sylvia, limbs still clutching in each other’s paroxysms. Herbie standing surveying the wild flailing bodies as he brushed off his arse. Schultz’s sunglasses landing at his feet. Herbie picking them up, and with his eyebrows raised, putting them on to survey the bodies on the bed. To turn away scratching his head, flat footing it over to the dressing table mirror. Where he made several contorted faces before lifting his lip and prising loose with a fingernail a particle of food lodged between his incisors. Shouts from Sylvia. Herbie turning to look. The bodies reflected in the mirror pounding up and down.

“Fuck me, fuck me inside out.”

“No problem.”

Herbie emitting a long belch. Clearing his throat as he took a hair brush to the upstanding strands on his balding scalp. Now standing to dab Vaseline on his private part and pat eau de cologne on his neck, armpits and in his pubic hair. Herbie turning. And facing the bed with a brand new erection. Schultz’s arse ramming away again on top of an open mouthed crying out loud Sylvia.

“Mr. Schultz, shoot. Shoot.”

“I nearly am honey.”

“Shoot. Shoot. Shoot.”

“Holy shit I’m coming, coming.”

“O my god Mr. Schultz, O my god. You’ve shot. You’ve shot. You’ve shot.”

“Honey when you said shoot I just had to go bang, bang, bang.”

Schultz’s perspiring head hung in the nape of Sylvia’s neck. Her gold chain caught across his mouth. The feel of her hair softly on the ear. Musky aroma of her skin. Like a so faint, so faint taste of truffles, so sweet, so sweet.

“Jesus Mr. Schultz someone somewhere must be a lucky woman. Still waters flow deep. O God it feels so good. Still way up in me. Still so hard in there. You’re a surprise I’m never going to get over.”

“Should I give your husband his turn maybe.”

“Don’t move, don’t get off. Herbie can wait. Can’t you Herbie.”

“I can wait. Like what am I. Just the husband.”

On the wide white expanse of sheet, Schultz slowly grinding away once more. Sylvia’s eyes closing. Purring out little long groans. Her lips curled back from her teeth. Jesus I look up and the Dorchester clock has gone backwards. Somewhere in the back of my mind hidden by all my troubles, I remember the first second I saw her, what a glint she had in her eye. Juicy girl. A genius. Has my cock in there working like it was part of her. Plus she’s backed up by one of the best little arses I’ve ever known. Which alone is worth the price of admission. All women I fuck from now on will be measured against her. Imagine such bliss as this. Without spending a penny of my own personal money. Without jam flung all over the walls. Or busted antiques and floods. Without a geriatric old hen like Al trying to corral me up the fucking aisle. Holy Jesus. Even that. Wow. Her finger. Pressing down on my ass. And Jesus, going right in. Right at the right time. Shows you looks don’t matter a damn. Sylvia and Herbie’s faces could win contests for designs for the back of a bus. And even I wasn’t always as handsome as I am now. My buck teeth growing up were knocking over all the girls on the block. Till Uncle Werb paid to have them fixed. My own father saying leave them. So what if they stick out, they make him noticed, it could help his personality. Thanks a bunch dad. Holy Jesus is it two fingers she’s sticking in. Or three knuckles. Jesus that star on a chain flipping all over her chest. Like she could be she’s stamped approved kosher by my whole family. Aunt Essie, Uncle Werb. Sigmund why don’t you find a nice girl and settle down in the diamond business. Because Uncle Werb, this is only my first arse thrilling fuck I’ve got out of this production. But holy jeeze at first with one finger or two it was wonderful but now it’s all her fingers or her whole fist going up my ass. What’s this kneeling. Now right over me. With hairy arms. And a chronometer watch on the wrist.

“Hey for Christ’s sake what’s going on.”

“Let him, Mr. Schultz, let him.”

“Let him. Like hell I will.”

Schultz grabbed from in front by Sylvia. Herbie crashing down from behind. Schultz struggling between the compressed bodies.

“Stop stop.”

“Let him Mr. Schultz, it only hurts in the beginning. No problem.”

“No problem like hell, you pair of fucking rapists. Get your prick out of my ass.”

It’s

Some problem

Hurting me

In

The end

Twelve minutes to four by the clock above the hotel revolving doors. As Schultz with his grey battered top hat in hand came out of the elevator looking twice behind over his shoulder. Walking between the deep green sofas and settees full of people. And spotting Pricilla sitting by a black marble pillar in a mauve taffeta dress, mauve high heeled shoes and a blue spotted green scarf tied around her waist. Just like she’s come fresh from selecting a dozen creations at a mannequin parade at Fortnum’s who are going to send me the bill.

“Hi ya baby. Sorry I’m a little late.”

“Late. You’re more than late. How dare you come to meet me dressed like that. Where have you been.”

“Look honey I’ve really had a long day. And I’m glad you’re here already. Let me go see my car’s alright. I’ll be a second.”

“Look at you, is that supposed to be a morning suit. Your coat is torn in two.”

“I know it’s torn in two for christ’s sake.”

“Your shirt is open and your tie looks like someone was trying to hang you.”

“Honey they were, they were.”

“Who were.”

“Nobody was, it’s a figure of speech.”

“I’ve been waiting eighteen minutes with men ogling me. And this is how you show up. Everyone staring at you. And laughing.”

“O christ, hey Jesus, let me sit down. And get the fuck out of sight, then.”

Three swarthy gentlemen encouched nearby licking their lips. Staring at Pricilla, then at Schultz and then at each other. China tea with lemon served by a tail coated solicitous waiter as Schultz put his own tail coated back snugly out of sight into the cushions. Pricilla selecting a watercress and cucumber sandwich followed by one of smoked salmon and then two pastries surmounted with whipped cream and stuffed with jams.

“O.K. honey. Now how do we solve this.”

“Solve, what do you mean solve.”

“I mean you know, solve.”

“I’m not a crossword puzzle.”

“O Jesus, look, come on, all I’m looking for is a sensible solution.”

“That’s your problem.”

“Well, would you like to, say go to stay in Monte Carlo or something. I mean take three weeks or a month. I can get in touch with medical treatment here in London. Then you could convalesce, like I say, in Monte Carlo. Even bring your brother. Watch the yachts come and go in the harbour.”

“What are you suggesting.”

“Nothing. I’m just saying. Everything could be taken care of. At my expense. I’ll pay.”

“You’ll pay.”

“Sure I’ll pay, no problem.”

“What are you going to pay for.”

“Come on honey, you know what I’m talking about for christ’s sake.”

“I do not know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, don’t make me say it, I got too much on my mind already.”

“Well you’re going to get more on your mind. More than you ever dreamed was possible.”

“Hey Jesus, it’s a simple operation.”

“What is.”

“To terminate. To terminate a pregnancy.”

“So that’s it. You want me to kill my baby.” “Jesus, keep your voice down for christ’s sake. People can hear.”

“Kill my baby. Is that what you’re telling me to do.”