It begins.
The sun slides behind a large black mountain. You enter an ocean only locals are supposed to have access to and ride the foaming wave mouths accepting the punishment they bestow, a full moon translucent visible in the evening sky.
You’re tossed, helpless… uncaring, under the salty water. Head briefly bobbing above, choking for air. Plunging your hand into the gloomy sand to gain some sense of direction, you feel the tiny grains evaporate and then get tossed upon the shore. Flabby white flesh on display for all the tan muscled locals to gawk at, a beached beluga. Their laughs tickle your ear.
You make your way to the fresh water showers, mouth tasting of chewed sunflower seeds. You rinse and the slick comes off slowly but quickly disappears into the spiral of the drain. You’ve chosen a shower with the least amount of light; stretch marks don’t look good on display.
You plan the evening on the car ride back to friend 3’s apartment. A song plays in the background, a good one. The lyrics sound like they came from a computer. The plan: another shower, a quick comb, and a few cocktails then you’ll hit the town like you are THE BIG ISLAND.
In the elevator of friend 3’s apartment you press the button for floor 30. Tattooed friend tells you the Japanese are taking over the USA. He then brags about the great deal he got on a Sony television. You laugh but he doesn’t find it funny.
After another shower, 4 cocktails, and a thorough combing, you set out with your two friends, heading to a small bar known for live music. Tattooed friend and Business friend want to relive some experience they had five years prior. You notice the tan lines on their wedding fingers.
You arrive at the bar, LULU’s, and quickly order a drink, trying to blend in and not talk to anyone. The TV plays Boogie Nights, one of the greatest achievements in modern cinema. You sit at the bar drinking five more cocktails watching nothing but Dirk and Roller Girl.
Tattooed friend and Business friend approach telling you about the “glory days”, how much ass, in this very spot, they pulled five years earlier. Telling you that married life is the end of life, to not come to the airport when its time to depart. Tattooed friend stirs his cocktails with his band-less finger and then sticks it into his ear.
When you return from the bathroom your two friends are with a couple plump females. Tattooed friend has his shirt lifted showing off his green ink, the one of a lopsided dove. The tattoo he got when he went through his religious phase. Business friend approaches explains Tattooed friend shouldn’t lift his shirt, he is fat.
You go downstairs and into a liquor store to buy a pack of cigarettes. Liquor stores are a dime a dozen in this town. $10 for a pack of smokes? Fuck, the $200.00 your fiancé gave you for the trip is almost gone.
After your second cigarette your little baby, your dog, runs through your mind. What is she doing? …Probably begging for belly rubs.
You re-enter the bar. Tatooed friend is thrusting his hips into a chubby girls backside, her skirt lifted and ass is exposed. Business friend is perfoming just about the same but spilling a cocktail over his companions back. You order a beer and sit at the bar; Dirk is trying to become a musician.
Tattooed friend and Business friend tell you they still got it, red lipstick now stained on their necks and chins. They tell you it’s time to get out of dodge.
You make your way downstairs and hop into a taxi, finding out it will be $20 to get yourselves back to friend 3’s apartment. At the next intersection Business friend throws up in Tattooed friends lap. You take the moment to exit the taxi.
You walk back into the bar, it’s a ghost town. Walking down a street, known for prostitutes you remember the advice friend 3 gave:
Just make slight eye contact and they’ll do all the work. They’ll take you around the corner, then inspect your dick to insure you’re not undercover. Then they’ll take you to one of those hotels right off the main drag. They’ll have you walk in first and tell you to hit the elevator button marked PH. After entering the room she’ll point toward the bed and say she doesn’t fuck where she sleeps, it’s too dirty. And then all the fantasies you’ve had about porn stars will vanish. She’ll point to a day bed and tell you that you can play there instead, trying to convince you it has a beautiful view over looking the city. Then the anxiety will hit, you know you should leave. It’s wrong…. Somehow. So you’ll go into the bathroom and wash your hands. You’ll run the cold water over your forehead and shake your head while looking into the mirror. You’ll stare at yourself and she’ll knock and ask if everything is ok, probably still questioning if you’re a cop. So you exit and have a seat on the daybed. She’ll say you can get started if you get the finances out of the way first. You pull the folded $20’s out of your shirt pocket. The $20’s just gotten at an ATM on the walk to her hotel.
On the way to the ATM you had cute conversation. Conversation about how she used to live in Vegas but needed a change of scenery. You asked how her business worked and she told you she works alone, even though you’ve noticed her texting someone since you’ve met.
You sit on the daybed, and find out shes originally from Germany. You don’t believe it until she starts speaking it fluently, even though she could be saying anything and you wouldn’t know any better. This excites you again, a German…. they’ll do anything.
You tell her you’re not comfortable and she says she’ll know what will make it better. She unbuckles your pants and les them fall to your ankles. A condom has made its way onto the daybed. You stare at the lime green prophylactic while fully erect in all the right places. She says your dick appears to be comfortable.
She slides off her tiny dress and grabs your cock. You stare at her tits and she and she blushes lightly. She says she knows she needs to get them done. She takes off your eyeglasses and puts them on saying she wants to look like an American whore.
She tears the open the condom and slides it on with her mouth. You try to keep your ass hidden to avoid the shame of the cellulite. A fireball of fetishes explode in your mind a she touches you.
Then she crushes your dreams. She says there are only two rules: No inserting your fingers or using your mouth. Rules? What fucking rules?
She performs fellatio as you lie on your back; she slowly rocks back and forth on her boney kneecaps. You start rubbing her ass. At least you can play with her ass. A small brown mole on her left inner cheek, she should really get that checked out by a professional. You feel she is wet; must be a little turned on right?
This routine goes on for about five minutes until the whiskey takes over.
This is when you question how you even got into the situation. You remember how your fiancé didn’t want you to go on vacation; she knew your two friends cheated on their wives last summer when you went to Vegas. You remember how the only thing she asked of you before leaving was to not cheat on her. And how you told her there was no way you were capable of such behavior.
But here you are now, on top of a shockingly blonde German. Her legs spread and slightly bent backward. You note her parts resemble a water logged hot dog bun. You attempt to return the oral favor but she quickly reminds you of the rules. You sit back and just stare. After apologizing three times and she says to stop apologizing. You apologize for continually apologizing. You want to ask for your money back but are too embarrassed to ask. She asks if you are going to be able to cum. You don’t respond as you stare at your tiny dick, lime-green dick.
She walks into the bathroom and you quickly get dressed. You place the slimy condom into your pocket. She returns and tells you to have a good night. You exit realizing you spent $200 and are going to have to come up with an excuse as to why you made a withdrawl at 2 a.m.. The receptionist looks you down, your shirt half un-tucked, as you exit.
Your cell phone is out of battery and you have no idea where friend 3’s apartment is, no keys even if you did. Nothing to do but walk, try to find some place to catch air.
A bus stop, with a nice looking bench. You sit and think about your doggy, her cute little pink tongue and blue eyes.- always on her back begging for more rubbing. After 30 minutes you get up to try to find friend 3’s apartment. While standing, across the street, you see Tan blonde German walking with a more attractive male in the direction of her hotel. Just another Automatic Money Machine transaction.
