“Sure,” he said. “I guess we can get together.”
“It has to be tonight,” she went on. “There’s a very special party tonight.”
There was always a very special party.
“A highly unusual party,” she went on. “You’ve probably never been to one like it.”
“I’ve been to lots of parties,” he said.
“Ever been to an orgy?”
That one stopped him. He stared at her, and his expression must have been a riot, because she burst out into hysterical laughter. “Oh, come on,” she said. “Let’s get out of this inverted whorehouse. I’ll tell you about it outside. I think you may kind of like it.”
They went out onto the street. It was cold out and he caught them a cab. They got into the back seat. She gave the driver an address on Park Avenue in the Nineties and curled into his arms. He played his role properly, taking her in his arms, kissing her, holding her close.
Suddenly she took one of his hands and placed it under her skirt. “That’s right,” she said, “that’s where I like to be held.”
They rode three blocks in silence while she made appropriate purring noises to indicate her approval.
“A wild group of people,” she explained. “All of us rich and all of as bored, like it says in the peepshow magazines. Every once in a while we have a meeting and show some movies. Ever seen a movie?”
“I see lots of movies.”
“I mean stag movies.”
“No,” he said. “I’ve never seen one.”
“They’re fun,” she told him. “Not as much fun as doing it yourself, of course. That’s the most fun of all. Nothing quite like it. But the pictures are fun themselves. They sort of set the stage, get a person in the mood.”
“You feel as though you’re in the mood already,” he said to her.
“Really?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I was born that way. But to get back to the picture. This one guy has a brownstone uptown, where we’re going. There’ll be four couples there. Another woman like me — Park Avenue matrons with time on our hands and money to burn is the way the magazines would put it. And two guys, the guy who owns the house and another like him. There’ll be a nice little call girl for each of the guys and another gigolo for the other gal and you for me. Eight all told.”
“I got a question,” he said.
“Go on.”
“Why don’t you and the two guys go to it and save money?”
“Because they’re our husbands. We need a little variety once in a while, sweetie.”
That shut him up. She went on to explain the set-up — there were four love seats in the living room, and each couple had a love seat, and they sat on them during the movie. Sat was a euphemism — they did whatever they wanted to do.
Then, when the movie ended, they paired off and went somewhere or simply stayed in the living room and kept at it. It didn’t make too much difference.
“Sound okay?”
“I suppose so,” he said.
“Any questions?”
“Yeah. One.”
“Go on.”
“What’s in it for me?”
“A lot of fun,” she said. “The joy of having me a few dozen times. Need more?”
“Yeah.”
“Mercenary,” she said. “There’s also a quick five hundred bucks in it for you. Good enough?”
“Fine,” he said.
The living room took up most of the first floor of the brownstone town house. The other “couples” were all on hand when Johnny arrived with the woman, whose name turned out to be Sheila Chase. Her husband, Harvey Chase, owned the brownstone. He had a little trollop on his arm with curly brown hair and mammoth mammaries. Another man, introduced as Max Turner, was escorting a light-skinned Negro prostitute with breasts just as large as those of the little trollop on Chase’s arm.
Turner’s wife Gloria was standing beside a young man whom Johnny had no trouble identifying as a comrade-in-arms. The kid’s name was Lance and he worked the same bars as Johnny.
It was a weird scene if ever there was one. First Max Turner made a little speech, and then everybody took off his or her clothes and stood around naked and unashamed. It gave Johnny a good chance to have a long look at the body of the woman he was going to be with.
She wasn’t bad at all. Happily, her boobs were all hers. They had a slight sag to them but nothing any man in his right mind would complain about. And her legs were very good indeed. She had stretch marks on her abdomen that were a sign that she had borne children at one time or other. That sort of bothered Johnny. He couldn’t quite see her as the perfect mother. The picture didn’t fit.
But he wasn’t complaining. Five hundred dollars was more than adequate for one night’s work. And the work might even turn out to be enjoyable. There was no way to say for sure one way or the other, but it might be interesting.
He had never seen a stag movie before. Vicarious sex never particularly appealed to him, perhaps because he had had so much first-hand experience along those lines. The only thing similar to watching a stag movie in his experience was when he had watched the lesbian make love to Moira in the hotel room in Las Vegas.
And that hadn’t excited him. Instead it had nauseated him, and he had had to throw up as soon as it was over.
Sure. But maybe this would be different. He would have to wait and find out.
Sheila Chase sat down on one of the velvet love seats and he took his seat beside her. The lights went out. A silver screen rolled down from the ceiling and he stared hard at it, waiting for something to happen. He heard Sheila’s ragged breathing at his side; it wasn’t at all hard to see that she found such movies extremely exciting.
Well, maybe he’d get a kick too. The cognac was still working in his head and he felt almost drunk but not too drunk to function properly. He dropped an arm over her shoulder and let his hand cup her breast. It was very large and he liked the feel of it against his palm. He held it and watched the screen.
The picture began.
Title Card: HOT STUFF.
The motion picture is set in the great outdoors. It opens with a long shot of a scene somewhere out in the country, possibly shot in upper New York State, possibly in some part of California where most movies and starlets are made. The rural scene pans over a stretch of open field to the shore of a small lake.
Long shot of a girl walking across the field to the lakeshore. She is wearing a man’s flannel shirt open at the neck and a pair of tight levis. The camera follows her to the water’s edge, concentrating on her buttocks. They are plump, and she is walking in a burlesque of the typical trollop’s strut.
At the edge of the water she stops and turns to face the camera. She smiles.
Subtitle: I’M HOT. I THINK I’LL TAKE A SWIM.
This said, the girl begins to undress. She opens the buttons on the shirt one at a time to reveal breasts which the loose shirt had kept well hidden up to this point. The camera dollies in for a close-up of her breasts. She drops the shirt to the ground.
Her hands play with her breasts. The camera watches.
Subtitle: I WISH SOMEBODY WOULD DO THIS FOR ME.
The camera moves back. The star of this epic now undoes the belt of her denim slacks, then unzips them and peels them off. She pirouettes for the camera in order to expose all her charms to its omniscient eye.