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ELYSIUM FIELDS: Part 4
Saturday, May 10, 1986:
1:05 AM
“Guys,” I asked, “do not take offense at this, but other than for you, Sandy, how come seeing all these naked women I’m not horny as hell?”
In the Jacuzzi, Ken sitting on the side with his feet dangling in the hot, bubbling water, his penis even further retracted into the thatch of his pubic hair than mine.
“Look around you, Mitch.”
“Okay...” Not too used to wine, at least the three glasses of wine that I’d consumed, “...okay,” I said as, a bit bleary eyed, I did look around.
“What do you see?”
"Tits." Smiling, “Lots’a tits,” I said.
“Yeah, but there’s so many tits you can’t really concentrate on any particular pair’a tits, can you?”
“Yeah,” Looking at Sandy, who was standing closely alongside of me, “except for yours,” I said, looking at the water bubbling onto and around her breasts.
“I’m turning you on, Mitchie?” she asked coming closer, rubbing her breasts onto my upper arm, her hand ‘accidently’ brushing my penis.
Oh, yeah! I thought, looking at Ken then, turning to her, no longer in hiding, my penis poking into her thigh, “What do you think, Sandy? You think you’re ‘turning me on’?”
Her lips slowly brushing mine, her hand now closing about 'me', holding 'me'. “Yeah!” She said, teasingly, "I know I am."
“Anyway,” Ken said, apparently not caring if Sandy kissed me or brushed her naked breasts against my arm, or, because I was hidden from the chest down by the foaming, bubbling water, if he’d guessed that I’d poked his girlfriend in the thigh with my extended penis or that she is all but making me ‘come’ into the foaming, bubbling water….
A number of thoughts rushing through my mind:
1…If I ejaculated now, would my semen dissolve in the hot, whirling water or would it float to the top and, if it did float to the top, would it be recognizable as semen or just meld into the bubbling foam? Also, along these lines, if I ‘came’ in the water, how many other guys may have ‘come’ in this water, that I am now standing near chest deep in.
2… Also, I thought of Gwen’s admonishment about “becoming too friendly” And my thoughts of ‘a Jacuzzi big enough to hold a number of naked people at the same time’? This is a way to keep people from becoming ‘too friendly’? Go figure I’d be one those really friendly people.
3… Would Ken be upset if I asked Sandy to join me in one of those “rooms where people go when they feel themselves becoming very friendly; where they can have some privacy?” Though I thought she would, would Sandy want to go to one of those ‘friendly rooms’ with me?
4… Also, am I prepared to have an affair, again, because, knowing myself, if I did make love to Sandy I would definitely want to do it again; recalling my affair with Elizabeth Herzon – whom I still thought of and still thought I loved – that ended outside of a Chicago divorce attorney’s office in 1963.
****
…“Anyway,” Ken said, “There’s so many naked women here to look at, it’s almost impossible, leastwise it was for me and, looks like for you too, to concentrate on any single woman.”
Considering this as the only plausible reason for, other than Sandy, primarily remaining ‘calm’ throughout the day, and, at the moment, not sure if I was happy or unhappy when she released ‘me’, “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I said.
****
“So, Sandy asked...”
All three of us now sharing their blanket: Myself, my legs unabashedly stretched straight forward, sat to the left of Ken, who, shading his eyes from the mid-afternoon sun, was reclining with his arm across his eyes. To the right of Ken, Sandy, well knowing the effect she was having, once again sat facing me with her legs, unabashedly, crossed.
“So, Sandy asked, you going to tell your wife about this place?” Adding slyly, “And me?”
“Don’t know.” I honestly answered. “And if I do,” our eyes locking, “I’m certainly not going to tell her about you.”
“Ohhh,” Sandy purred, “you’re hurting my feelings.”
Looking down, her eyes following mine, “Not when you do this to me, I’m not going to tell my wife about you.”
Turning away, I looked across the highly populated field and, concentrating, I willed myself to return to a deflated state, until...
Strangely...
Very strangely, three rows of blankets away, one lone lady...
One lone lady among the, possibly, seventy or eighty naked women within my sight wore the bottom of bikini bathing suit and this one, less than naked lady...
Looking onto my lap, strangely, my averagely endowed penis was standing very rigidly at attention.
****
“Sorry, guys...” Looking at Sandy, “Yeah! Yeah, I can tell you’re not a guy.” Impulsively leaning across ken, lightly kissing Sandy’s left breast. “But I’ve got to get going.”
Sitting up, “Think you’ll be coming back?” Ken asked.
“Don’t know. If she’s still not talking to me, I just might be back tomorrow and buy a membership.”
****
As the motto: “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas!” “What happens at Elysium stays at Elysium!” So, though spending the day and becoming fast friends, the three knew their friendship, along with any personal information, at least until they knew each other better, if they ever knew each other better, was to remain private. So no telephone numbers were exchanged and any future meetings, at least for the time being, would be strictly coincidental.
Standing, pulling his shorts and shirt on, sitting again, his socks and cycling shoes. The beach towel went back into the pannier.
“Hey, it was really nice meeting you both,” I said. “Hope we do it again.”
“Yeah, Mitch.” The two shook hands.
“Bye, Sandy.”
Standing, going to him, placing her arms on his shoulders, “I really enjoyed being with you...”
“Teasing me, you mean.”
“Well, yeah, that, too.” Urging him closer. “But I’d love to get together again... soon.”
Sandy’s tone of voice, the inflection telling me our next meeting did not necessarily have to be here, at Elysium. “Yeah…” Now being the first time I’d had a – really confining – ‘hard-on’ in spandex cycling shorts, “…me, too, Sandy,” I said, matching her sultry tone. “Me, too…” Truly hating to leave, but...
“Bye.”
****
