by Sam Lollar
“Aaron, dear lad, come sit down with Auntie Regina.”
“No thanks. I think I’d like to go home now, Scott.”
“Sure, kid, just let me go take a leak.”
I suddenly realized that I needed to pee rather badly as well, so when Scott returned I excused myself and went to the men’s room. To my amazement, as soon as I entered the room, three or four other guys came in, too. There was a trough urinal, so everyone was just standing there with their dicks hanging out. Everyone except me. I was so pee shy, I had never been able to do it in front of anyone. As soon as I left, the other men left as well. Curious.
I asked Scott about it, and he chuckled, saying that they just wanted a look at my dick. Nothing unusual about it, according to him.
We drove back to the motel, when I finally got back to a conversation we had started many weeks before. “Scott, what’s the story about voyeurism you were going to tell me?”
“Oh, that,” he said. “I was hoping you had forgotten about that.”
“No, and you stated you would tell me about it later. Well, it’s later.”
“Oh, okay,” he began. He paused for a few minutes, and then started. “Back in Chicago, Dollie had two motels, both really nice—one was a Best Western, the other a smaller, more exclusive property. I ran the Best Western while she ran the Chateau, as it was called. I was in the rooms frequently, making sure the cleaning and amenities would pass the Best Western inspectors, as they often stopped by unannounced to examine each of their motels. I was checking a room one evening just after sunset when I noticed a pinpoint of light coming from one of the walls.
“I walked over to it and realized it was a hole in the wall, so I sat down and looked through it. Imagine my surprise when I saw people walking around in the room next door. I soon realized the hole was situated so that one could sit in a chair and watch through the hole. So I did. I didn’t drill the hole, but I did take advantage of it. Eventually it happened. A navy man was staying in the room one time, and I just had to peek. I did not plan it, but the room with the hole was vacant, so that evening I walked over to peek in.
“I was thunderstruck at what I saw. This guy was spectacular. He was obviously a bodybuilder, as his biceps and chest were glorious. But what was so mesmerizing was that he was standing in front of the full-length mirror and flexing his muscles, his dick rock hard. He was jacking off while he posed, flexing his biceps and watching his calves as he flexed them. I immediately took my dick out of my pants and began jacking with him. We both finished about the same time.”
*
“My God. Dad, that’s gross.”
“I know, I know. But you said you wanted to hear all the gory details. I’ll edit this story if you’d rather.”
“Not on your life,” Number Three said. “I want to hear everything. Even the gross stuff.”
*
I was stunned. “That sounds kind of gross.”
“Oh, Aaron, I told you not to be judgmental. It was so erotic that I was hooked immediately. Anyway, that’s how I got hooked on voyeurism. You’d be surprised how many single men get naked and beat off when they’re alone in a motel room, either with a magazine, or rubbing their bodies, or just fantasizing. It’s wonderful. Whenever I could, I would assign single men to one of the rooms. I would peek through the hole connecting to the other room.”
“I don’t know if I want to know anymore, but you said weeks ago that you like to be watched, too?”
“Yeah, I’d eventually gotten to where I would hold those two rooms until a really hot single guy showed up. Then I’d rent one room and go into the other. Sometimes I’d leave the lights off and watch him. Other times, I’d leave the lights on and wait until he noticed the light shining in his room. When I noticed a shadow over the hole, I’d take my clothes off and jack for him. I had a wonderful time. So when I came to El Paso, I examined every room to see if someone had made peepholes anywhere. And to my delight, I found the two in the room you spotted me in. I hope you don’t hate me but, Aaron, you don’t know what it’s like to be alone and unable to make contact with someone you can love and hold and dream of spending eternity with.”
“Wow,” was all I could manage. Much to my horror, my dick was rock hard from the tale, and so scrunched up in my pants that it was actually uncomfortable. But how to rearrange myself without letting Scott know? Happily we arrived at the motel and I was able to take care of things upon exiting the Mercedes.
*
“Um, Granddad, maybe I don’t want to know about that.”
“Okay, Number Three. I won’t be so graphic.”
*
“So, I’ll see you tomorrow about eight thirty to go to the DMV?” Scott asked as we were going to our rooms.
“The what? Oh, yeah. Uh, yeah, sure.” I’d forgotten about the title transfer. I would sure love the car, but what would I have to do to get it?
The next morning, I was getting dressed when Scott walked in looking rather morose. “Aaron, I’m afraid Marvin advised me not to turn the title over to you. Not just yet, anyway. It seems it could look a little suspicious to certain people. But you can drive it all the time if you want.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, I just smiled and said it was okay. “But I thought you wanted to drive it?” I asked.
“Well, I really like the car, but I thought I’d give you the keys, and I’d get a new one. How does that sound?”
“Great, but what am I supposed to do with my Falcon?”
“Sell it? I don’t know. You can leave it parked where it is, if you want. It’s not in the way.”
“Well, I’m not going to sell it, since the Mercedes is really more of a loan than a possession.”
“Oh, don’t think of it that way. In a few months, I’ll be able to transfer title to you. In the meantime, you can tell everyone it’s your car. Won’t your college friends be impressed?”
“Yeah, I suppose they will at that.” I couldn’t help thinking that explaining how I got it would be more awkward than it was worth.
He tossed me the keys and suggested we go look at some new cars for him to consider buying. As we were leaving my room, making our way to the lobby, we noticed a really long Cadillac with antiquated tall tail fins pull under the porte cochere next to the lobby. Out walked an odd-looking little man in cowboy clothes, down to the tall boots and ten-gallon hat.
“What is that?” Scott asked no one in particular.
“Strange-looking guy, don’t you think?” I said.
“Jesus, those tail fins are taller than he is.”
“That’s not nice, Scott. He’s just short, that’s all.”
“Short doesn’t seem to cut it here, Aaron. How tall do you think he is? Maybe five feet?”
“Probably not more than that, I’d guess.”
We continued to talk about the odd little man, when we entered the lobby and saw him registering with Bob. Without a word, he turned, left the lobby, got in his car, and drove off to his room.
“Who was that?” Scott asked.
“Name’s Norbel Manriquez. He’s a jockey. Apparently he’s here for the horse racing.”
“Of course, that’s why he’s so small,” I said. “Did you get a look at that car?”
“It’s something else, isn’t it? Apparently he won it in a race back when it was new. He says he likes it so much he doesn’t want to part with it. He sure does look little in it, though, doesn’t he?”
“I’ll say. Look, Bob, Aaron and I are going car shopping,” Scott told him.
“What? Again? Scott, how many cars have you bought so far this year? Didn’t Marvin warn you not to overextend yourself again? What’s wrong with the Lincoln?”
“I don’t know. I just like the Mercedes so much I want to get another one like it.”
“What’s wrong with driving this Mercedes, then?”
“I’ve given that to Aaron. It’s his car now. I’m even going to sign over the title to him.”
Bob’s eyes went w
ide in mock horror. “Run, Aaron. Save yourself. Scott wants something.”
I grinned sheepishly, shrugging my shoulders.
“Oh, don’t be so cynical, Bob. I don’t want a thing from Aaron. I just want to give him the car.”
“But why?”
“Oh, shit. Because, that’s why.”
“Wait. When are you coming back? I need Aaron this afternoon if the racing crowd comes in.”
Scott ushered me out of the lobby, Bob’s admonition ringing in my ears. “Run, Aaron.”
“We won’t be gone long. Hold down the fort,” Scott said over his shoulder.
We went to several car lots. To my surprise, rather than looking at new cars, Scott was looking at used ones.
“I thought you wanted a new car, Scott.”
“I do. At least it’ll be new to me. Why should I pay for all the depreciation on a brand-new car when there’s such a wide selection of used ones? Look at this TR 4, Aaron. That’s a real beauty.”
“It really is. How much is it, I wonder?”
“Here comes just the man to ask,” he said as a salesman came over to us.
“Good morning, gentlemen. Can I show you anything? I noticed you looking at the TR 4. It’s a real beaut.”
“How much is it?” Scott asked rather bluntly.
“Um, I’d have to consult the used car manager. Would you like to drive it?”
“Yeah, I would. What do you think, Aaron? Want to go for a spin?”
“Sure would.”
“The keys are in the car, go enjoy it.”
To my surprise, we simply got into the car and drove off. “That was easy. Didn’t he want any ID or anything?”
“I left the Mercedes there, what more security could they want?”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”
We drove around for several miles, Scott making comments about the car’s handling or other aspects of it. Finally, to my surprise he said, “No, I don’t think this is what I want.”
“Scott, it’s gorgeous. Why don’t you want it?”
“Look at the color, Aaron. It’s shit brown. Why would I want a car color that all but screams ‘ignore me’?”
“I suppose. Maybe they’ll have one in a different color?”
“I don’t know, I’ll see what’s available. There are lots of other car dealerships around.”
And I think we hit all of them. He drove and rejected a Cougar, another Triumph, a Barracuda, two Camaros, and a Firebird. Finally, he drove a year-old Jaguar XKE convertible with only a few thousand miles on it. It was black with a tan top and tan leather interior. Simply put, it was gorgeous. “This is the one I want,” he finally announced.
I don’t doubt it, I thought.
As we drove back into the car lot, the salesman came over to us. “Well, how was it? Did you like it?”
“It’s okay,” Scott said. “I’m not too sure about the…” and he proceeded to criticize almost everything about it. To my amazement, he bought the car anyway for about two-thirds the asking price. I was impressed and decided that his bargaining process was information worth remembering.
I drove “my” Mercedes while he drove the Jaguar. We made quite a sight when we drove into the parking lot at the motel, the Jag, the MBZ, and the red and white Lincoln all parked in a row. Pretty impressive, at least to this eighteen-year-old.
“I want to change clothes and get a bite to eat. Do you want to clean up first? You look fabulous as you are, but if you want to, we can meet back here in about twenty minutes. By the way, where would you like to go?”
“It’s almost six o’clock, Scott. I’ve got to get to work.”
“Ach, don’t be silly,” he said dismissively. “As long as you’re with me, you are working. And since I sign the paycheck, I say it’s okay to go eat with me.”
“Well, actually your mom signs my paycheck.”
“Don’t split hairs. Just go make yourself even more gorgeous, if that’s possible, and we’ll meet in twenty. Put on something tight to show off your body.”
“Scott,” I managed to say as he scampered away.
The continual commentary regarding my looks was becoming tiresome, but I had finally given up arguing with him about it. He seemed to enjoy it, and it was harmless enough now. So I purposely went to my suite and changed into clothes I felt were more my style. When I returned to the lobby, Scott was already there, waiting impatiently for me.
“I thought you’d never get down here. What took you so…oh, I see, you did change clothes. Are you sure that’s what you want to wear?”
“I wouldn’t have put ’em on if I didn’t want to wear ’em,” I retorted rather huffily. “Besides, it’s hot and they’re comfortable. Where did you decide to go eat?”
“We’ll find something. Let’s go. Did you want to drive the Mercedes or go in the Jag?” he asked as we left the lobby heading for the parking lot. He steered us to the Jaguar, so I didn’t bother responding to his apparently rhetorical question. We drove for a long time, with Scott keeping up a long-winded monologue. Eventually he got quiet. He’d start to say something else to me a few times, and then sigh “forget it” under his breath. We made a beeline back to the motel.
“We didn’t get anything to eat, Scott.”
“I know. I guess I wasn’t so hungry after all. I’ll get you something at the Oriental Bosoms.” He seemed unusually quiet after our long drive, and I questioned him about it as he parked the car.
“It’s nothing, Aaron. I guess I’m just a moody person. What say you change into your bellman’s uniform and get to work? I’ll see you later.” And he walked rather swiftly back to his room, leaving me to wonder what he was up to once again.
An hour or so later, in drove a 1958 DeSoto. Red and white. I hadn’t seen one of them in years. The tailfins were towering; the length of the car amazing. An older lady was driving, apparently to meet someone at the restaurant, because she walked in with conviction. I was fascinated by her 1950s style clothing, dated, but refined. Even a little hat and white gloves.
About nine thirty that evening, Larinda came into the lobby, ready for her night’s work. She had on some garish muumuu, with a big straw hat and clear plastic high heels. She was quite a sight.
Chapter Thirteen
The Blue Stingray
“Hiya, sport. How’s it hangin’?” Larinda asked as she saw me behind the desk.
“I’m okay, how are you? Why are you in so early tonight?”
“Well, don’t tell anybody, but I kinda fell asleep last night around four o’clock. I thought I’d better get over here early tonight to make up the work I didn’t finish. Keep it a secret, will you?”
“Sure. I think Bob or Scott’ll wonder what’s going on, though. Better think of a good excuse.”
We continued to talk about inconsequentials for a bit before she asked me about Scott. “So are you two an item yet? I have to admit you make a cute couple.”
“What?” I said. “What do you mean, an item?”
“You know, are you two going together? He’s sure been pursuing you. I wish I had a man who wanted me as much as he wants you. I mean, I’ve never had a man give me a box of candy, let alone a Mercedes. Jeez, you could milk this for a lot of money, boy.”
“Well, I still haven’t gotten title to the car, so it’s not really mine anyway. I think of it as a loan. I’ve still got my Falcon. And Scott and I aren’t an item, as you so quaintly put it.”
“Oh, come on, sport. I know he’s made a couple of passes at you, and I’ll bet your objections are getting weaker and weaker every time he comes on to you. I think you kinda like it.”
“How would you know?” I asked. But after I thought about her comments for a while, I decided to tell her something I had slowly begun to realize. “You know, I think I do like all the attention he gives me, but I’m really not interested in him that way. I’ve never thought of myself as particularly attractive. I just see a skinny kid when I look in the mirror, but apparentl
y Scott sees something I’m unaware of.”
“Not just Scott, darlin’, but most everybody. Even Mrs. Schuster has said that she thinks you’re gorgeous. Enjoy being beautiful, because the beauty will fade all too soon, I’m afraid. But are you sure that you only like the compliments, and not Scott himself?”
“I’m sure. Of course I like Scott, but I don’t like him.”
“Hi, guys,” Scott said as he unexpectedly entered the lobby. “What are you doing here so early, Larinda?”
“Um, well, you see, I was, uh, not feeling well last night. Girl troubles, you know, so I didn’t finish all my work and thought I’d come in early and catch up. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. I’m impressed you’re so conscientious. I have been thinking of a great idea for some publicity, and I think while both of you guys are here, I can do it.”
“Wait a minute,” Larinda cut in. “What do you have in mind? You didn’t say a thing about this at dinner.”
Dinner? I thought Scott was going to take me out to eat, but apparently he went with Larinda. Curiouser and curiouser. “Yeah, Scott. What’s your idea, before I commit myself.” I echoed Larinda’s voice of concern.
“Oh, you guys never trust me. We’ve been booked up the last three weeks, no vacancies at all. And I want to capitalize on that. So I thought I’d take photos of people sleeping in the front office. We could set up some army cots, and you two could pretend to be customers who had no place else to go. What do you think? I could send the photos to the newspapers and get some publicity out of this.”