J. Donleavy - Schultz

“Hey, honey, what’s the matter am I hurting you.”

Wide blue eyed Roxana. Her speechless mouth wide open. Her one eyebrow raised hysterically higher than the other. And her voice finally squeaking out in fear.

“Behind you.”

“Please, O please, do not mind. It is just me Greta. I only watch.”

“Holy cow.”

Roxana biting her lips turning her head away. Schultz looking backwards over his shoulder. Roxana’s breath drawing in. Jesus when god is suddenly giving me everything I want, what the hell do I ask him for now. An extra prick.

“It’s O.K. Roxana. It’s O.K. No problem. Roxana, it’s alright. This is just Greta.”

“Please do not mind I come in by mistake. And it is so beautiful. I did not want to frighten you.”

“Jesus Greta, this is kind of private.”

“Please. I am do no harm.”

Schultz kneeling up now over his eyelash fluttering chambermaid. Her two front teeth just ever so slightly bucked. Her eyes even more wide open, looking over Schultz’s shoulder and staring at the new arrival limelit in the curtain slit of light. Who my god is taking off my sweater. Letting out her own masterful pair of tits. Which could get her burning through steel right into the bullion fortress of Fort Knox. Holy shit, even in the fucking lingerie business you never see anything like this all in one day. What a surfeit. As well as a heart stopping memorable lesson in comparative anatomy. She’s taking down my trousers. And, would you believe it, even wearing a pair of my shorts. Her belly button in the shape of a question mark. Right in the shaft of light. Which don’t worry. I’m not asking why stunningly naked she’s heading right towards this bed.

“I come closer. I am do no harm.”

Greta’s long honey blond hair falling around her shoulders. Strands parting around her nipples. Half smile on her lips. Long slender, athletic body. Muscles on her stomach. Hands held out from her sides and now slowly placed back on her hips as she sensuously slowly twists and sways. Holy christ again I don’t have to ask what she’s doing. Fucking well trying to seduce us. And succeeding. And now she’s putting her hands all over my piece of ass. Fucking hell. When she could go back to Hornchurch where she learned these bad habits and kid around with her employers who not only both try to kiss her but pay her as well.

“I am do no harm.”

Greta climbing further up on the bed. Running one hand softly up Roxana’s leg, and momentarily squeezing Schultz’s prick with the other. And suddenly throwing herself on top of Roxana. Who welcomed her with open arms. Schultz in the melee, his fingers here, feet there trying to press between the so recently met young entwined ladies. Holy shit, not nobody even noticed the size of my prick, one third bigger than it is usually. With the way their tongues are kissing down the other’s throats. Hands and fingers stroking each other between the legs. Wagging breasts against each other’s breasts. In one day. Holy christ. The things you don’t plan for. Happen right in front of your face.

Hey Jesus

Girls

What about

Me

I am

Do no

Harm

Either

Bright with the occasional shower said the early morning wireless forecast. But the day remained windswept and pouring with rain. Big Al Duke in a tweed fishing hat smiled as if he were the father of the bride, pressing a bouquet of orchids into Pricilla’s hand and kissing her on both cheeks. A photographer outside the registry office with his flash bulbs popping off. Al beaming, his arms about the newlyweds.

“Come on, once more, the happy couple and all of us together. What’s a few rain drops on this unforgettable day.”

Schultz shivering in his thin grey flannel ivy league suit. Rubbing his eyes after each picture as if he did not know what hit him. Bumped into as he was once or twice by Pricilla’s mother. And having for the first time learned the rest of Pricilla’s Christian names, Prunella and Prudence. And ushered by a back slapping Al into this long limousine.

“Come on kids, let’s all go for our little nosh I got ready for you at the Savoy.”

The suspension of the vast motor lowering as Pricilla’s mother got on board. Schultz at the sight of this familiar interior had his hand on his stomach and then across his lips as particles of a bacon and toast breakfast came up his throat to sourly taste in the mouth. Wedged in by a wife on one side and mother in law smothering everybody in her perfume, insisting to be on the other. Al taking up a jump seat alongside surprise of surprises. Agnes. An equally beautiful equally creamy skinned tall softly blond closest girl friend of Pricilla’s. Who flew all the way from Argentina to be at her best friend’s wedding. And who, as she gazed admiringly at Al during his tourist commentary, also made Schultz’s prick tingle into erection.

“Agnes, even is this inclemency isn’t our wonderful London still beautiful.”

The rain speckled vehicle majestically purring through Chelsea down a traffic jammed King’s Road. Passing around the fountain in Sloane Square. Speeding up through Cliveden Place. The greenery beyond Eaton Gate. Here’s where they keep freshly painting the houses every week. Got my hair cut only a hundred yards away right over there. In these streets where once I wandered free. Now a whole roll of Pricilla’s mother’s fat is pushing under my elbow like the arm rest of a chair. Jesus when will it ever be when I’m getting annoyed by nothing. Never be another night like that one. With Roxana and Greta. Screwed what must be one of the most beautiful holes in Europe. After half an hour’s trying. Managing to steal up on Roxana from behind. As Greta was otherwise engaging her from the front. That privileged fucker his Lordship. Doesn’t even know what’s hanging around just one of his fucking castles. And now. Just when I’m meeting one after another, exactly the kind of women I need supplied in my life. This happens to me. A coffin lid slammed. Catching my fingers, my prick, my neck, my balls. With two tons live weight of a mother in law sitting on top crushing it closed. Eight new grey hairs this week I pulled out of my head. Al I can do is holler and scream bloody fucking murder way down in the abyss of my guts. And Al, holy shit, can he be appropriate. Choosing flowers related to those that trap and eat god damn flies.

In a green damask walled private drawing room over looking the tops of the trees and the tugs and barges on a rain swept Thames River, the wedding repast was had. Tail coated waiters deftly in attendance. Schultz his black hair framing his ashen face, eyes glazed staring at the table cloth. Pricilla wearing her Queen of Sheba smile. Then a grimace as Schultz dug out a piece of wedding cake which toppled off the knife to fall on the floor. While Big Al, his eyes glistening, his glass of champagne raised, stood at one end of the table, and reflected in the many mirrors, made his little speech and proposed a toast.

“It is sad that Sigmund’s own parents couldn’t be here to witness this, this wonderful moment, the marriage of their one and only child. But on such short notice they were caught busy opening up yet another of their large textile factories on the East Coast. And it is my own little unhappiness on this wonderful occasion that my own dearly beloved is not here. Being as she is so charmingly just too shy. But nevertheless Agnes is here. This beautiful flower we welcome from the Argentine. And together with the new bride’s beautiful mother we wish happiness for the both of you two good young kids. To Mr. and Mrs. Schultz.”

Big Al Duke the day previously having got investor’s contracts from Sigmund Franz Schultz now let this recently married impresario examine these four slips of certified variously coloured and water marked paper. Which were produced in the gleaming marble and polished wood panelling surrounds of the men’s room of the Savoy.