Tuesday, August 19, 2014

The Old Man in the Hot Tub

Hello All:
My apologies for allowing over a week to pass before updating the blog. These recent months have been very challenging to find writing time. There just never seems to be any free time for me. Waking up in the wee hours of the morning like I usually do is difficult. It's as-if there is some voice in my head that tells me, "Don't get up! Get another hour or so of sleep. You need your rest."
Perhaps this voice is right. But listening to it only results in loss of writing time. And so I'm up early this morning to get myself back on schedule. I'm sure all writers suffer through these times at least once or twice in their life.
***
I recall a couple of years ago, taking my daughter to her weekly tennis lessons at a health club that included a lounge area complete with bar for refreshments and even alcoholic beverages. I would sit in this lounge and watch her for the hour. And in this time, the lounge would soon fill up a group of obnoxious, old men who had apparently finished their workouts. The place would turn into nothing less than a watering hole where all manners and public decency were thrown out the window. Shocking profanity was boisterously spoken along with conversations that revolved around sex, women and the troublesome relationships with their lifelong partners in crime, the penis.
One week the bar tender brought in some cake to celebrate her birthday. One of the old men stood up to get a second piece. In doing so, he loudly exclaimed and asked, "HEY DEBBIE! NICE CAKE! DID YOU PUT VIAGARA IN IT?" Apparently, Viagra is an important ingredient for birthday cake enjoyed by old men.
Moments later I overheard another obnoxious, drunken man call out to another who was about to leave, "YEAH, AND SAY HI TO THAT SWEET BITCH OF YOURS!"
I hope I don't get this way when I become old!
The Old Man in the Hot Tub
Biking the asphalted nature path on a Saturday, spring morning with his plump, fair and beautiful wife; Josh was unaware that he was, once again, a few hundred feet ahead. He really thought he was traveling at an easy pace, but he was still too fast for his wife.
The plump, fair and beautiful Maureen pushed the pedals of her bicycle; all the while the task became increasingly exhausting. And although she tried to enjoy the scenery; the beautiful, spring air and the flowers in bloom; the nature bike ride was becoming a bother.
Sweat poured out of her forehead while that beautiful, fair-skinned face turned blood pumped red. She made one final push with her leg and gave up. Poor Maureen fell off of her bike with her husband hundreds of feet ahead!
Now it just so happens that the plump and fair beauty fell down just a few feet in front of a kind, elderly gentleman who was enjoying a morning walk. He took sight of the young woman and rushed over to extend his chivalry. "Honey, are you okay?"
The only thing inured was her self-esteem. "I'm fine, I just got tired; and my husband is way ahead of me."
"You're husband left you here to fall off your bike? Let me tell you, I would have never..." The old man just shook his head in disbelief and then helped the beautiful, young woman back to her feet. He was such a gentleman, the sort that we don't see in this day and age. And while helping Maureen, he recalled the young man who passed him just moments ago.
How the old man despised those young whippersnappers that whizzed by on their bicycles without a care in the world. And the one from just moments ago had left his beautiful wife to fall down. If only the old man was 50 years younger; he would have stolen the beautiful, young lady and showed her what it meant to be treated right.
The old man picked up the bicycle off the ground and handed it to Maureen. "Here you go, sweetie. Do you want to rest for a while? Are you going to be okay?"
"No, I'm fine. I'll just slow it down some and meet my nice (said facetiously) husband at the end of the bike trail."
After some time, Josh realized that his beautiful Maureen was no longer behind him. Where could she have been? Concerned, he immediately turned around, picked up speed and head towards the direction where he hoped his wife would be.
Soon his plump, fair and beautiful wife could be seen in the distance, pedaling away nice and easy. As Josh came closer, he took notice of her blood pumped face and what appeared to be an angry look.
He stopped just a few feet in front of Maureen. "Are you okay?"
Maureen was hot, tired and irate that she had fallen off her bike without her husband to rescue her. "No I'm not okay! You might like to know that I fell off my bike. And where were you? Nowhere to be found! Some kind, elderly gentleman helped me to my feet."
Needless to say, Josh was terribly regretful for leaving his wife so far behind. He really believed that he was going at a nice, easy pace; just enjoying the springtime scenery with his plump, fair and beautiful wife. "Oh, I'm so sorry. Did you hurt yourself in the fall?"
"No! And at least someone was there to help me."
"Well, again, I'm truly sorry for going too fast. I won't let it happen again. We are almost to the end of the bicycle path. Let's go get some ice cream on the way home.
***
Later that afternoon, Josh was at the gym and had finished his dynamic workout of weightlifting and running the treadmill with a nice swim in the pool. Walking to the locker room, he decided to enjoy a relaxing soak in the hot tub that was located in the men's locker room.
Just like any other normal person, Josh entered the enormous hot tub in his swim trunks and sat down in the corner. Moments later, an old man strolled in with his flabby skin that jiggled and hung over his swim trunks as he walked. Unbeknown to Josh, it was the same gentleman who rushed to Maureen's aid earlier that morning.
I suppose swim trunks were uncomfortable for the old man to wear, for he pulled them off in front of Josh. It was bad enough to see giblets and fat hanging off the old man as he walked. But now Josh had to see the terrifying, unholy, uncircumcised mess that now made its way into the hot tub.
Josh reminded himself that the hot tub was treated with chlorine and other chemicals to combat any possible sores with pus or other biohazards belonging to filthy, elderly people.
The old man sat down at the other side of the hot tub. For the first time, Josh noticed that the old man carried with him a small brush. He soon learned the purpose of this brush as the old man lifted one foot out of the water, and scrubbed in between his toes, in a moment of what appeared to be uncontrollable ecstasy. The brush removed all the dead tissue that had been infected by toe fungus.
Chlorine would surely kill any bacteria or fungus being spread by the inconsiderate cleaning of the old man in the hot tub! Josh had desperately hoped this.
Suddenly, the old man sounded a congested, watery cough. He put the brush down, stood up and walked over to the edge of the hot tub where a grated drain sat on the floor. He leaned over towards the drain, coughed and gagged, gurgled and made all sorts of other hideous noises with full intention of expectorating whatever congested his bronchial passages. Finally he produced a bright, yellow loogie that dropped on the grated drain. But it must have been so dense that it would not go down.
No problem for the old man; he simply cupped some water with his hands and threw it at the drain. But the loogie only slid off the drain and onto the tiled floor.
"Bah!" The old man swiped his hand towards the direction of whatever mess he had left, most likely meaning that clean-up was a lost cause. Then he sat down and took hold of the other foot, and scrubbed in between his toes for another session of pure ecstasy, brought on by deep fungal removal.
The activities of the old man were making Josh's experience in the hot tub very unpleasant. He hoped the inconsiderate visitor would soon be gone. Then again, maybe it was time for Josh to hit the shower. But for some reason, he remained seated and tried to enjoy his moment of soaking in the water.
Appearing to be finished with his feet, the old man put the brush down, stood up and walked over to an area where a rapid jet stream violently ejected water into the tub. The old man bent his knees and hunched over so that his butt received the hard blast of jet streamed water. But he wasn't done! Soon the old man reached behind, pulled apart his butt cheeks and bobbed his lower torso in and out of the water. It was another session of ecstasy that provided relief to his itchy, inflamed hemorrhoids. With each bob down in the water, he would joyfully proclaim, "Aaaaaagggghhhh... Aaaaaagggghhhh... Aaaaaagggghhhh"
Josh could only imagine the dingle berries and whatever other horror being released into the hot tub. He nearly flew out of his seat, didn't bother to walk over to the stairs, but climbed back up to the main floor where he quickly walked out into the shower.
The old man wasn't far behind. Several minutes later, as Josh rinsed his hair of shampoo in the oversized community shower, the old man, who had his moments of ecstasy in the hot tub, soon entered with two additional old men. Imagine a large, tiled room with several shower heads on both sides of the wall. This is the area where Josh found himself showering with those who we like to consider gentlemen of days long past.
The old men were anything but gentlemen! I can't even repeat their foul, loud and boisterous conversations. Every noun in every sentence included an adjective that gave people, places and inanimate objects the ability to fornicate. To the old men, everyone must have appeared to look like the hole of an ass. And apparently they had some sort of obsession with feces, being that situations were metaphorically named as such.
Kind, sweet, old men? I think not! They were so bitter and grumpy with negative views towards anyone and everything. And when not complaining about the world and people around them, they discussed their personal, health problems.
The old man who had rushed to help Josh's beautiful wife that morning, expectorated another hardened loogie and spat it in the shower drain. Walking back to his shower head to continue rinsing off, he began to discuss his early-morning walk. Josh regretfully observed the old man urinating on floor so that yellow would mix with the used soap suds that pooled towards the shower drain. It was in this moment when Josh had learned (from the old man’s account of his walk) that he truly was the hole of an ass for leaving his plump, fair and beautiful wife so far behind.

Monday, August 11, 2014

Teletubbies--emissaries to the Arcturians

Hello All:
The late mystic and clairvoyant, Edgar Cayce,  once mentioned that the Arcturian race of extraterrestrials were the most spiritually and technologically advanced race in the galaxy. They were reported as living within a solar system of the star, Arcturus. In modern times, people have reported having interactions with the Arcturians and even relay messages from them.
We have recently discovered that the Arcturians found their way into our world over a decade ago and instructed toddlers how to do things such as set up interdimensional travel. They did this through a television show called Teletubbies in which the strange, techno, toddler-appearing creatures served as emissaries to the Arcturians.
Teletubbies--emissaries to the Arcturians
In the late 90s to early 2000s, toddlers and preschoolers from around the world watched a peculiar television show known as Teletubbies. Episodes of this show were produced between 1997 and 2001 which yielded, exactly, 365—enough shows for future toddlers to watch for a full year.
Due to its purpose and agenda being vastly misunderstood by adults, Teletubbies drew mixed reactions from many people. Most grown-ups, including myself, simply watched the show with our children and appreciated it for what it was. Others, however, accused the show of breaking down the organized and moral structure of society while attempting to brainwash toddlers into some new world order. 
Now, over a decade later, it is being realized that Teletubbies were actually emissaries to a race of interdimensional beings—possibly the Arcturians—who used the television as a portal to lay the foundation for future generations in the shift of Earth's consciousness.
"One day in Teletubby Land, something appeared from far away." This introduction was used in an actual episode of Teletubbies in which one of the toddler-acting creatures named Po was wandering through the countryside of Teletubby Land and discovered a door standing upright. Before Po reaches this area, the viewer sees that the door suddenly appears out of nowhere.
Do watch the video below this article to fully appreciate the analysis of the door scene. Allow a couple of minutes to pass as the Teletubbies emerge from their spaceship and take turns hugging one another. Although you may have come to see this as just one of the many annoying, silly antics of the Teletubbies; this waving from the ground and acknowledging their Creator in the sky (assumedly God) and then taking turns hugging one another is an actual daily ritual performed by the Arcturians.
Perhaps you've noted while watching countless episodes of the Teletubbies that their so-called Teletubby Land is a peaceful place. In the video, we are provided a few seconds of a quiet and serene landscape. It almost feels like a quiet, midmorning Tuesday when everything outside is still and silent. This is the best way to describe the world of the Arcturians where everything is perfect and beautiful with a silent stillness. And this reality manifests itself during every episode of Teletubbies.
After one minute and seventeen seconds of the video the door appears out of nowhere. The narrator is sure to let us know that this door came from far away. And, as you will soon find out, Po discovers the door and inquires what it is.
After being told that it's a door, Po is then instructed to open it. Should this alarm us? Might the Arcturians be teaching toddlers that when a portal is provided, it should be opened? And Po does something else that initially looks like just another silly antic of the Teletubbies. As he gets excited, he performs what appears to be some martial arts hand drills—blocks, punches and such. Although a simple activity to take for granted, the Arcturians are actually embedding instructions deep inside a toddler’s memory to seek and perform various exercises later in life that will enable him or her to expand prana (life force, ki or chi). Expanding this energy will enable them to do the next thing: walk through the door; walk through the portal and to the other side. From there the instruction is given to close the portal.
Moments later, another Teletubby—La La—discovers the door and inquires what it is. Upon learning it is a door, she is instructed to knock. But notice how the Arcturians have demonstrated to test and evaluate portals as having good energy by knocking three times. Three is an important number in numerology that represents good fortune, positivity; even the Holy Trinity. Perhaps this is important to prevent toddlers from opening bad portals.
After La La knocks three times, the door is opened. But there is something very important about the door. For the first time, we can see that the door is bi-directional—swings both ways. It is apparently important to the Arcturians that people understand that portals allow interdimensional travel in both directions. Although Po went through the door and to the other side, he was able to return. And upon returning, La La embraces him—another important exercise that allows the regrounding and re-centering of energy. Then both Po and La La went through the door.
This cycle continues throughout the video as both Dipsy and Tinky Winky both discover the door while wondering the countryside alone, to knock three times for the Teletubbies on the other side to answer by pulling the bi-directional door open. I find this method of pulling interdimensional portals open as being fascinating. Is this considered a less-intrusive method of interdimensional travel?
On the final round as all four Teletubbies make it to the other side, the door suddenly disappears. If the viewer fully understands what the door is, its sudden disappearance might be alarming. It would imply that the Teletubbies had escalated their prana, opened a portal and transported themselves to some other dimension. But for some mysterious reason, the portal no longer exists. Are the Teletubbies prevented from returning to their world?
But this shouldn't alarm us. The end of the story leaves us with a message from the Arcturians. When all of mankind has escalated its prana and achieved consciousness rising, Earth will be transformed into another place; a dawn of a new era, and we shall never revert back to who we were before evolving.


In June of 2014, the BBC announced that it will resume production of the Teletubbies show. The emissaries to the Arcturians will return to provide instruction to the new generation of toddlers. I wonder what messages they will have.

Friday, August 8, 2014

Voyeuristic Fantasies

Hello All:
It's Friday which means it's time to run to the store and stock up on some wine for the weekend. And yes, I am a wine-o! There's certainly nothing wrong with that!
Recently my daughter has been collecting all my wine corks and has made a castle with fortress with them. She's waiting for me to drink some more so she can add more buildings in the near future.
***
I can see on some of the mainstream catalogs that my new cover artwork for erotica fiction has been updated. I've concluded that people tend to purchase stories with naked women on the front cover. It's my intention to update the cover artwork to every erotica story of mine  Stories like today's featured writing, Voyeuristic Fantasies. It has a naked woman looking out her window on the cover. Wouldn't you like to read it?
Voyeuristic Fantasies
My hobby started early in life, around my early teens. Aiming a telescope out the bedroom window one beautiful, summer evening to catch a view of Mars; I noticed that the woman who lived next door was pulling in her driveway. For reasons unknown, my imagination began to wander and quickly realized that she was coming home to a dark, empty house; possibly to change out of her work clothes. That’s when I aimed the telescope at her windows in hopes to see her!
The first light turned on as she put her bag and purse down on the kitchen counter. She rummaged through the refrigerator and then disappeared into one of the other rooms, invisible from view. Waiting patiently for her return; I some time later noticed a soft light through another window. The telescope was immediately aimed towards the direction of the soft light. Inside, I was surprised to see my neighbor standing by the open, bedroom closet with the light on!
A rash of predictions triggered hope for that teenage boy who was eager to see her change out of her work clothes and into something more comfortable. Would he really see this? I remember my heart rate soaring as my hands shook with excitement. She was about to yield a sight that was forbidden. And the frustration of her back being turned only fed my voyeuristic fantasy as she removed her blouse.
Just then, my mother screamed from the kitchen, "Wayne? Wayne, get in here and eat your bratwurst!”
“Rats!” I hated bratwurst and sauerkraut, but my mother made it so often for dinner! All I could do was quickly run out to the hallway, leaving the bedroom door half open. Hopefully I wasn’t missing the ultimate sight through the telescope. "I'll be there in a minute, Mom. I just want to check out Mars."
Running back to the window, hoping nothing was missed, I continued to impatiently watch the woman in her bedroom. What was she doing? When was she going to get naked? Why the striptease?
In the moment of frustration, my mother could be heard storming down the hallway towards the bedroom. "Whaddya got your bedroom door closed for, huh? What are ya smokin' in there?" She swung the door open and immediately walked towards me to discover the telescope aimed at the neighbor's house. “Lookin’ at Mars my ass!"
The large, beastly woman had an equally, booming voice that could be heard through long distance! "What are ya lookin' through the neighbor's windows for? Are you some kinda pervert?"
In horror, I watched as the woman next door peered out her bedroom window and directly towards me. My mother announced to the whole neighborhood that her son was looking through neighbors’ bedroom windows, and the current victim saw firsthand proof. She quickly closed her window and shades, making it not only the end of the show, but the end of my hobby of voyeurism.
It wasn’t until years later, when living in a single bedroom apartment, that I rediscovered my interest in watching women. Where I lived, the apartments were distanced about 50 feet from each other, and the bedrooms were back-to-back. Darkness, quiet and solitude were always welcome guests, as it left plenty of time to think and imagine. In those bachelor years, the apartment was usually dark at night, only illuminated by street lights and storefront signs.
Walking into my bedroom one night, I was surprised to see a woman in the apartment, across the way, standing in her open window. She wasn't nude, but she was a woman standing in an open window which instinctively caused me to run for the binoculars. She just had to be seen up-close and performing activities in the privacy of her own apartment!
One might say that I have an inherent knowledge of voyeurism. No one ever taught me the art; but for some reason, I know a great deal of information pertaining to stalking women. There’s a subconscious relationship that exists between a woman and her stalker in which the victim knows that someone is watching. Despite what most people might think, the female victim enjoys being stalked and almost seems to invite it. A voyeur could be watching a woman from two blocks away, and eventually the victim "knows" about it. It's an instinct that's inherited from millions of years of evolution, most likely related to a female’s need to seek out a male companion.
There is also a rule that fellow voyeurs follow: Darkness is a voyeur’s best friend. As long as one stands in a room that is dark at night, a victim cannot see what is happening. This, of course, depends on whether or not a victim stands in a room with a light on at night, yielding a clear-as-daylight view of everything.
Adhering to these rules, I stood in the dark room, silently watching the woman across the way through binoculars. She was an average, but very cute, blonde in her early 30s. What immediately sparked my interest was the plain face, making her appear so real and down-to-earth. She folded her laundry, seemingly unaware of the new stalker who watched with baited breath for a possible, forbidden sight.
But what was this? Within moments, I learned that she had a husband who entered the room to help. And as I continued to watch, their story unfolded. This was a newlywed couple in their early 30's that had just moved in their new apartment. Both were quite happy, as evidenced by the way they looked lovingly at one another. But upon further observation, I quickly concluded that she had a certain control over him. The husband was insecure around the wife, exhibiting extreme caution not to anger her.
As they put away the last bit of laundry, my female victim walked over to the window and partially pulled the shades. I could still see inside, but much of the view was blocked. Then the bedroom light turned off which was soon replaced by the soft illumination of the television.
My baited breath turned into erratic breathing as I observed her blouse being pulled up in front of the bedroom window. And although her face could no longer be seen, there was a clear shot of her upper chest. She wore a delicate, lacey, pink bra which positioned her breasts, showing off her gorgeous cleavage. Those days of teenage voyeurism returned as my heart raced and hands began to shake, nearly causing the image behind the binoculars to be un-viewable.
"Take it off; come on, please take it off!" The erratic breathing turned to near hyperventilation. As far as I was concerned, this woman had the nicest pair of breasts ever seen, and she hadn't even removed her bra! Then the TV was turned off and that was the end of the show for the night.
That certainly didn’t end interest in the new, female victim and rediscovered hobby of voyeurism. The frustration of not seeing her bare breasts only fed my voyeuristic fantasy into a rewarding obsession watched night after night. I quickly learned of her clockwork schedule, and checked in to my observation post at 9:00pm, every night, to see both husband and wife report to the bedroom. Some nights offered nothing more than a quick glimpse of her walk by as she turned the light off. Other nights offered an erotic striptease of my obsession dancing around her bedroom in sexy lingerie. And one thing always remained the same: she had a nice pair of breasts that I was just dying to see!
Stalkers learn their victims’ habits. My victim had the Monday night ritual of laundry, which suddenly included doing it in her bra. Her husband would come over to help and would sometimes sneak a feel of her breasts. But this only aroused anger, causing her to slap her husband’s hand away. Apparently he was not allowed to touch without her permission. It didn’t take long to learn something interesting about their sexual relationship; the husband enjoyed denial of sex.
One night I watched as the married couple sat on the bed, playing some kind of card game. As usual, she wore her sexy lingerie as the husband sat on the bed, exposing his bare potbelly and long, ugly beard that covered his chest. If only there was some way to exclude him from the nightly views.
After the game; she waved at him as he grabbed the pillow in disgust, leaving the room. But she remained in bed and turned off the light. The frustrated man lost the game that evening which meant he lost an opportunity to have sex and sleep with his wife.
For a voyeur, lights out can be an equally frustrating experience as it was for that husband who lost the card game. I waited night after night in anticipation of the ultimate show. But with only a peak of my victim in her bra, or her husband who copped a feel; the lights soon turned out, as they did the previous night, and would most likely do the following. Although frustrating, it fed the voyeuristic fantasies beyond the point of obsession. I began to think of ways to continue watching through the dark and seeing everything; every bra removed, every pair of panties pulled down and every naughty excursion that was done safely in the dark from prying eyes.
She was probably the sort of woman who had reversed, voyeuristic fantasies. Some nights when her husband was gone, my victim most likely took great delight in walking about her bedroom, semi-nude, all the while knowing that I was watching. And then she would turn off the lights to shroud her activities of dirty fantasies. Stepping back a safe distance from the open window, she danced while stripping until completely nude and then shook the sight of those much desired breasts in the darkness. But I couldn't see them! I tried with all my power and utilized the zoom feature of the binoculars to focus on the darkness of her room. Not one silhouette or shadow could be seen in the veil of night. My victim knew the safety of darkness and acted out her teasing dance, completely aware that someone struggled to see.
But would her reverse, voyeuristic fantasies get the best of her? Would there have been a time when she lost control in her dance that also involved touching and extreme arousal? It would only be a matter of time, in the heat of desperation, when she desired to be seen. With this knowledge, I waited patiently for her approach towards the window where the silhouette of her naked, dancing body could be seen. It would be my reward of diligent stalking and obsession.
Sadly, these things would not be seen. The woman had complete control in her moments of private passion, which resulted in my further contemplation of ways to break the rules and finally see that which was hidden from my view. Could I have used night vision goggles? Those were too expensive—at least in those days they were. Perhaps a radio-controlled toy that could fly over to her window would have been the solution. A mounted camera could send live video back to a television screen at my secret, viewing post. Better yet; perhaps there was a small, mechanical, flying bug with miniature camera already available for purchase. Such a spy's toy would be radio-controlled and could send the live video back to my viewing post. The small bug could find a hole in her bedroom screen and fly in. Then it would find its way into her bathroom and watch as she took a shower, completely nude in her moment of sacred privacy. The bug could mount itself to the headboard of her marital bed and watch husband and wife in their moments of treasured intimacy. I could finally see her facial expressions, created in orgasmic delight.
Unfortunately, no toy with those features could be found for purchase in those days. And if such a toy did exist, it was most likely used by government intelligence and probably priced at tens-of-thousands of dollars.
There was a simpler solution, I imagined, that could defeat the obstacle of darkness: it's opposite, light. For a reasonable cost, a high-powered spotlight could be purchased and mounted to my window sill. It would aim directly towards my obsession's window and penetrate the shrouding darkness that covered that which I longed to see.
I mounted this spotlight in the late-afternoon hours, and rigged a finder scope to the deflector shield so the light could be perfectly aimed directly into the bedroom window. I reported to my viewing post at the usual time that night.
If only the husband could have been removed from these nightly shows! The view of his unsightly body ruined any and all visual rewards provided by the wife. Tonight; she wore a silky, red teddy which hinted to an evening of passion. Most likely, he would rip her playwear off; but it would be done in the dark as always. Fortunately I had my new solution aimed at their window. But I needed to wait for the ideal moment to turn the light on. If done immediately, she would still be wearing the teddy.
How long should I have waited before shining forth the illumination? It was a highly, tricky moment that required much intuition. My imagination needed to be in that bedroom as the husband eagerly explored her luscious body through the silken material. I had to wonder how she could have kissed his lips that were outlined by a messy, stinky beard that hung to his skinny chest. His beer belly pressed against her abdomen, and then he unlaced the ties of the teddy that held back her bursting cleavage. But it wasn't time yet! His hands now covered her breasts as palms and fingertips explored her nipples. Soon he would lead her to bed which would yield a plain-as-daylight view of her gorgeously, naked body.
Now! It was time to turn the spotlight on! The illumination shined forth the light of midmorning sun as I stood at the window behind binoculars. Just seconds ago, the room was completely dark which blocked their late-night play from view. Now I could see the entire room: bedside tables, dresser and the headboard of their bed. But where was the nudey show?
Seconds later, the husband’s face popped up from the bed which was followed by his wife's. His unsightly, naked body sprung up from the bed and ran towards the window. But the binoculars were zoomed in on my obsession's face as I eagerly waited for her to rise and finally expose her nakedness. She did sit up some which yielded a view of her upper-breasts. But her nipples were blocked below the window sill.
Unable to control myself I yelled, "Stand up! Let me finally see your tits!" I nearly passed out from over-excitement, all the while hoping they didn't hear my desire through the window screen. And to this day I wonder if they saw me hiding behind the spotlight with binoculars, struggling to see more. The skinny-chested, pot-bellied husband with messy, long beard quickly pulled down the window shades which ended the show for the night.
"DAMNIT!" I had come so far in my voyeuristic quest, but my weapon had been defeated by a window shade! Night after night I waited by the window for the shade to be lifted. But it remained closed; and my addiction to voyeurism was seriously experiencing withdrawal. I had to find another victim! It was only a matter of time before the nightly views of my ultimate obsession would return, but a temporary fascination needed to be found.
***
It was a Tuesday evening, about an hour after falling asleep. I remained in frustration because my victim's shades were still pulled down. But something awoke me from my sleep, a subconscious realization that there was a sight outside my window that could very well feed my voyeuristic addiction. I sprang from the bed and grabbed the binoculars; then immediately aimed it at my obsession's window. The shades were still closed! Although frustrated, I remained at the window and scanned all the other windows in that apartment building until something caught my eye. It looked like bare skin through one of the apartment bedrooms on the second floor!
Of course! There were other nightly shows that could be enjoyed. The 9:00 view of the woman and her unsightly husband was only one of them.
I continued to gaze through the window for a hopeful return of the bare-skinned lady. But as I found out, she was, perhaps, a 600 pound beastly woman who returned in her birthday suit. Her bedroom was illuminated by the flicker of the TV as she kneeled on the bed and carefully rolled over to lie down on her back. Why couldn't the nightly views of my ultimate obsession have been as easy as this one? Although she was terribly obese, I continued to watch in amazement, hoping she could have satisfied my cravings for a voyeuristic thrill. And then she gazed up at her window as if to see if anyone was looking. She remained naked, and proceeded to fondle her enormous breasts.
Was this where my hobby of voyeurism was to end up? Had I turned into an addicted pervert who was willing to watch anyone, provided that person was naked?
These were the days before the internet was popular; before one could simply click a link and access hundreds of naked women for free. Even if the internet was available, I certainly couldn't afford a computer to access such images in the privacy of my apartment. Even still, most people might think that if a voyeur (in those days) really wanted to see a woman naked, he could have simply purchased a nudey magazine, or visited a stripper club and have his craving met. But you must remember; voyeurs are addicted to everyday women who go about naked in the privacy of their homes. Magazines containing silicone-pumped, digitally altered centerfold models are not real. And paying to see a professional women dance on stage isn't much of a thrill for a voyeur.
There was new game I had imagined that might appeal to women who had reverse, voyeuristic fantasies. As I speculated, there must have been many women who secretly desired to expose themselves to a stranger in a safe, harmless way. If this was true, I could find these women at the Laundromat, just next door to my apartment in a bizarre scam that I called, The Lingerie Model Search.
I sat at my kitchen table one Saturday night with a blank sheet of paper and black marker; writing the words, "Ladies, Do you think you have what it takes to be a lingerie model? We are a professional agency seeking women to work in this rewarding career. Act now with the opportunity enclosed in the envelope. Take only one, please!"
It was the perfect notice to post on the community bulletin board in the Laundromat. But what were these sealed envelopes the notice spoke of? I already had them sitting on the kitchen counter, 20 of them with the exciting offer inside. Each envelope contained another marker, hand-written message that was photo-copied to save time. The enclosed message said, "Congratulations on your decision to follow the exciting career as a lingerie model. To qualify, you must enclose a nude photograph of yourself along with contact information. Please seal the provided envelope, and drop in the application box belonging to this offer."
To fully understand what it was I had created; you need to visualize the small kiosk that I affixed to the community bulletin board in the Laundromat. Since the business automatically opened at 5am, 7 days a week; I entered on Sunday morning while the world slept and most likely no customers were present. A small, 11” x 8” box—only 2 inches thick—had been carefully screwed to the bulletin board. A supportive ledge at the bottom of the box held the exciting offers housed in the envelopes. And of course, there was a slip hole in the box to drop the sealed envelope in, once an unsuspecting woman provided a naked image of herself. Above the small kiosk was the notice asking women to act on the exciting offer contained in the envelope.
Just as I had applied the public notice above the affixed box; the obese woman, who I had watched fondling herself only two nights ago, had entered the Laundromat. Needless to say, she saw me attaching the public announcement and immediately walked over to see what it said. I ran out of the establishment in a panic, realizing that I was in serious trouble. Someone in the area had seen me post my Lingerie Model Search scam, and it was only a matter of time before the police found me. Are there any laws against such an activity? I wasn't sure, but maybe it was considered fraud. And what if under-aged girls dropped photos of themselves in that box? Might I have been accused of circulating illegal pornography?
YOU HAVE BEEN READING AN EXCERPT FROM THE SHORT STORY, VOYEURISTIC FANTASIES. IF YOU HAVE ENJOYED THIS, WHY NOT SUPPORT THE AUTHOR AND DOWNLOAD THE ENTIRE STORY?

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

Late Night Call for the Cableman

Hello All:
The data is in, and the results have been analyzed. We have concluded at the Literary World of Tom Raimbault that if you want to sell books--lots of books--then you need to have pictures of naked women on the front cover.
Case in point: The House Where Sex Lives, a spooky horror story with just a splash of erotica, has received a total of 1059 downloads in 2014. In second place with 431 downloads, we have Arrested by the Cableman; an erotic and very, bizarre Cableman story that might teach us what happens when people watch too much provocative entertainment on cable TV. The Cableman's First Time, another free erotica story has received only 148 downloads. Notice it offers no nudity on the front cover? I wonder what would happen if it did.
In comparison, let's look at my Mapleview series of novels; books that I
consider to be high quality horror and dark fantasy. I put all my blood, sweat and tears into these books. And when released for free in 2011, these books took off on the mainstream catalog with hundreds of downloads and provoking many mixed reactions from readers around the world. I would consider the Mapleview series to be a big success. But since labeling them with a price, the Mapleview novels are pretty much unheard of. The Tree Goddess has received 2 downloads in 2014. The Death Mask has received 1. Sex Magick (the third book in the series) hasn't received any downloads. In fact, I don't think one person has ever read Sex Magick!
So I think I've figured it out. I finally get it. Readers want high-quality fantasy fiction; but unless the author is Stephen King or J.K Rowlings, no one is willing to pay. I totally understand.
Ah, but there seems to be one thing that might inspire a reader to download a book from an independent author. If it has a naked woman on the front cover, chances are it will sell.
As of last week, my entire Mapleview collection has been made free on the mainstream catalogs. In looking at the daily sales report, I can see that they are beginning to receive downloads. And I've submitted a few changes to book covers; books like today's featured writing. Don't you want to read this story? The cover has two people having sex on it.
Late Night Call for the Cableman
It might be easy to conclude that it's all fun and games for the Cableman. He doesn't appear to work so hard. The Cableman, after all, has plenty of downtime which allows him to take extra, long lunches at the gym; park his truck at the local forest preserves for a few sneak-tokes of marijuana; and have his way with lonely housewives or pretty, young things who can't resist the Cableman.
But you wouldn't want to be the Cableman! Many times his work goes beyond after hours. And it isn't uncommon to receive a late night call from a dissatisfied customer with high expectations. Yes, the Cableman must leave the comfort and safety of his own bed to answer such a late night call.
And just like you and me, the Cableman has those blah, gloomy days with overcast, drizzly skies and a slight chill in the air. He drives in his cable van with the wiper blades on delay to clear the nonstop accumulation of drizzle. The windshield defogger is on low. The radio is on for a moment of entertainment before reaching the next customer’s house. But it seems the only thing on the local stations at the moment is a bunch of commercials. What is it about today? Even when there actually is music, it's only the stupid songs.
If one would happen to pass the Cableman out on the road, he or she would immediately recognize the gloomy face that sits in the driver seat.
"What's the matter, Cableman? Why in such a bad mood?"
Uh-oh! The Cableman smoked all of his stash the day before yesterday, thinking that his supplier would come through the following morning. But there was some delay in the shipment of California skunk. Going on over twenty-four hours without a hit from the bowl, the Cableman was seriously jonesing! Hopefully he would get a phone call from the dealer sometime this afternoon, and could finish the day with a much-deserved few tokes of weed.
But it went beyond that. The Cableman was having a little crisis in the department of love. Although a smooth operator when it comes to the ladies, the Cableman recently struck out on his number one desired woman. He made all the wrong moves, said all the wrong things, and probably sent out all the wrong signals or chemistry. Perhaps this fine lady was way out of the Cableman's league. Whatever the reason, it was all good. As the Cableman would soon find out, all that loving was needed for a very, special customer.
After pulling into the driveway of the next customer, an install at a duplex condo, the Cableman reached into the back of his van and removed a leather tool belt that was stuffed with the tools of the trade. Although it drizzled, he wasn't going to bother with a jacket. Most of the work would be done indoors.
And what do you suppose brought sunshine for the Cableman on a gloomy, rainy afternoon when he just so happened to be unlucky in love? So beautiful, sexy and sophisticated with just a touch of being perfected with age; Danielle greeted so warmly with her dark-blond (nearly light-brown) hair and gorgeous, blue eyes. Although her face might have revealed a delicate line or two and perhaps a subtle shortage of collagen; Danielle clearly took excellent care of herself with not only her preserved beauty, but with the fact that she worked out and remained young.
So warm and brandy-ish was her voice as she greeted, "Hi, are you here to connect my cable?"
Just the sound of her greeting caused the Cableman to nearly water at the mouth. A sweet kiss from the customer would surely taste exactly like honey. "Yeah, I've got an order for a reconnect."
"Come on in!" invited Danielle. "I made some coffee. Do you want some?"
Actually, coffee didn't sound like such a bad idea. Perhaps it would cheer the Cableman up on a gloomy afternoon. "Sure! That sounds great!"
Danielle led the Cableman into the kitchen where the smell of freshly baked cookies greeted him. Did the customer make coffee and cookies just for the Cableman? At this speculation, the timer on the oven suddenly went off.
"Oops! Let me get that. The cookies are done." Danielle turned off the alarm, opened the oven door and pulled out two trays of what appeared to be extra large dark chocolate / chocolate chip cookies. If eaten, it would only be necessary to have one of these cookies! They were that big!
"I like to bake on rainy days. It cheers me up. Maybe if you're good, I'll let you have one."
The Cableman was delighted. "That sounds like a great deal. But let's take a look at where you want your cable installed, first."
Before leaving the kitchen, Danielle was sure to pour the Cableman a cup of coffee. "Cream or sugar?"
"Just two spoons of sugar and a bit of milk would be fine."
Within moments, the coffee was handed to the Cableman. It had such a bold and hearty flavor. Not even in the house more than five minutes, already Danielle was the greatest woman, ever. Surely the coffee along with Danielle’s sexiness and her warm and friendly personality would cheer the Cableman up on a rainy, gloomy day
Danielle and the Cableman strolled into the family room and stood before the TV. "This is the main TV where I want the cable to be hooked up at. I’ve been meaning to ask: I didn't order through your office, but I think I might want a second outlet in my bedroom. Could you do that, too? The builder ran the cable wire throughout the house, so it shouldn't be too much work."
"Oh, I could handle that." reassured the Cableman. "Let me just examine the wiring behind your outlet. It needs to be of decent quality." Soon on his knees, the Cableman removed a screwdriver from his leather tool belt and proceeded to unscrew the outlet from the wall. But much to the Cableman's dismay, the builder used questionable cable, probably to save money.
The Cableman takes his job seriously and would never leave a customer with poor picture quality. "Hmm... I don't know about this cable. We can try it out. But if you're picture is grainy or fuzzy, I'm going to have to run some new cable."
"Is it cheap cable?" asked Danielle.
"Well... maybe… I don't want to say just yet."
And that's what Danielle liked about the Cableman. He was so thoughtful and professional; so much different from the sloppy, ill-mannered men that she dated.
When taking a look at a beautiful woman like Danielle, one might wonder why she is single. Divorced for a few years, a closer look might reveal that poor Danielle is lonely and sex-starved. She would do anything for a little attention from a man—the right kind of attention that is. Let's face it; a woman can have sex whenever she wants. But it would be nice to have a man who actually meant it, put some feeling behind it; not just a careless pump and dump.
Of course there are men out there who care and wish for more than just a pump and dump. But the dating scene is more of a zoo for Danielle. For starters, it seems to be a fast-track path to seriousness. Most (if not all) men are divorced and for good reason. They're either emotional rejects or possess way too many hang-ups. And the field is so competitive, as no one wants to make the same mistake, twice. If a woman could successfully get past the large percentage of men who are freaks with psychological disorders, it would appear that the decent men carry a score-card and dock points at the consideration of every possible negative. Did decent men even date real women anymore?
But the Cableman is different. So laid back and free-spirited, surely he's a man that can "play love" and give Danielle the attention, friendship and sex that she so badly needs.
Danielle watched the Cableman as his muscular forearm screwed the cable outlet back into the wall. "Wow! It looks like the rain is coming down heavier.” exclaimed Danielle. “Why don't you come in the kitchen and sit down for a few minutes and have a cookie? I'm sure they've cooled enough by now. And you know that cookies are best when they come out of the oven!"
The Cableman looked out the window and didn't want to go out in the rain to connect the incoming cable. "I think I'll take you up on that offer."
Moments later the two sat at the kitchen table, each enjoying a freshly baked jumbo dark chocolate / chocolate chip cookie. Both had a cup of coffee at the side of their dish. For the Cableman, it was the most fantastic cookie that he ever had. So warm and gooey; surely enough to satisfy on a rainy, gloomy day. Maybe this is how Danielle, herself, was. A good wrestle in between the sheets with her might give the Cableman everything he ever wanted.
And she continued lay on the friendliness as her hand patted the Cableman's forearm. "I just want you know that I appreciate you coming out to hook me up."
Both simultaneously placed their imaginations in the bedroom where it would be so good to install his cable in her outlet.
Suddenly, the Cableman's cell phone rang. Immediately he produced a face of urgency as he stood up to answer. Then he ordered the caller, "Hang on a minute..." The Cableman stuck his index finger in the air to indicate "just a minute" before stepping outside onto the front patio.
Who could it have been on the phone that required privacy? Was it the Cableman's girlfriend; maybe his wife? Things were going so well for Danielle only moments ago.
It was the Cableman's marijuana dealer who now had the shipment of the much anticipated California skunk! But the Cableman better move fast and meet at the usual spot! The dealer had an overload of deliveries for the afternoon.
Soon the Cableman scurried back inside. "That was my boss! I've got another job to do, so I better hurry up!" Then he stormed back outside in the rain and connected the incoming cable. When inside; the Cableman rushed through his job, making no small talk and almost appeared irritated that he had to be there. In the bedroom Danielle and the Cableman were supposed to enjoy some sloppy making out with lips smacking and tongues rolling to the sound of rain beating against the window. Instead, there were only the harsh sounds of tools that connect the cable to the TV. Was there any way to keep him longer and maybe remind the Cableman of the chemistry he shared with Danielle, earlier?
"Hey, do you think the pre-wired cable from the builder is good enough?" Maybe if Danielle appeared unsatisfied with her picture quality, it might make the Cableman stay longer and replace the pre-wiring. By the time he ran cable throughout the house, it would be the end of the day. But why run off when Danielle could have dinner waiting at the kitchen table? Some drinks afterwards might lead to a romantic evening. And Danielle definitely needed romance!
The Cableman was in need of some serious romance as well. But he wasn't about to stay any longer than needed. Instead, he examined the picture quality of both TVs. "Well, I don't see a grainy image or any fuzziness. It looks like your builder's pre-wiring does the job, after all." And then the Cableman did something that sealed his fate. He pulled out a business card that included his cell phone number. "If you notice anything wrong with your signal; static, interference or graininess; you give me a call. I'll come out and fix it for you." The Cableman was truly a dedicated professional.
But he sure didn't act like a professional while leaving Danielle’s duplex condo. Shortly after handing her the receipt, the Cableman guzzled the remains of his now lukewarm coffee and then stuffed the jumbo cookie in his mouth while leaving. The Cableman left poor, lonely, sex-starved Danielle alone on a rainy, gloomy day without so much as a "Goodbye" or "Thank you for the coffee and cookie".
What the hell?
***
Ten o'clock in the evening, the Cableman crashed into bed after a rough day at the job that was wrapped up by relaxing his mind on a couple bongs of fresh California skunk.
At quarter to eleven he was deep asleep when suddenly the cell phone rang on the nightstand. Startled, the Cableman grabbed it and groggily answered. "Hello...?"
It must have been a wrong number. The caller hung up.
No problem for the Cableman. He was so exhausted that he merely dropped his head on the pillow and nodded back to sleep. But not more than ten minutes later, the cell phone rang again.
"Hello...?"
It was another hang-up!
This time it took longer for the Cableman to doze off. And just as he drifted off into blackness, the annoying cell phone rang for a third time. Would the Cableman get any sleep tonight?
"Damn-it! I'm shutting this thing off!" But just in case it was someone important trying to reach him, the Cableman answered one last time. "Hello?"
The bothersome caller finally spoke. "Hi, you installed cable at my duplex this afternoon. You were concerned about the builder's pre-wiring, but went ahead and used it anyway. "
The Cableman remembered the customer. "Oh, hi... Yes, I remember."
"You know... I'm really not happy with the job. The picture on my TV looks fuzzy, and I can't believe you just walked out of here without installing new wiring."
Still groggy from being deep asleep, the Cableman was unsure of what to say. "Umm... well... Tell you what, why don't I swing by tomorrow and run some new cable for you?—see if that doesn't fix the problem."
But tomorrow wouldn't work for Danielle. "No! I want you here, right now, to finish the job you started! Do you understand?"
There was a pause before the Cableman answered, "Are you serious?"
"Yes, I'm serious! Get your butt over here and finish your work!"
"Okay, I'll be there within the hour."
Well this really sucked for the Cableman. Exhausted after a hard day at work, he hadn't even slept an hour and already needed to answer a night call. Although irritated with Danielle, the Cableman was sure to take a quick shower, shave, spray on cologne, brush his teeth, apply underarm deodorant and change into a fresh company shirt. You never know, the mood might change for the customer later that evening.
YOU HAVE BEEN READING AN EXCERPT FROM THE SHORT STORY, LATE NIGHT CALL FOR THE CABLEMAN. IF YOU HAVE ENJOYED THIS, WHY NOT SUPPORT THE AUTHOR AND DOWNLOAD THE ENTIRE STORY?




Monday, August 4, 2014

How to Get with Jenny Robin -- chapter one

Hello All:
If you've been following the blog for a number of years, then maybe you remember me once mentioning that I refused to publish anything onto the Google book store. This was due to the simple reason that Google books (at the time) did not have a dashboard that allowed easy control over book content and publishing.
Well guess what? Out of curiosity, I've recently looked visited the Google books dashboard and noticed that it's been greatly improved to give the user more control. The end result, I have published my first book on Google which is also available on Google Play. Now you can read How to Get with Jenny Robin on your Google powered devices.
I'm going to have a few more announcements later this week--all good ones. I'm making some changes on the mainstream catalogs. More information to follow later this week...
Today, let's enjoy the first chapter of How to Get with Jenny Robin. And if you have a Google device, why not download the entire book--for free--on Google Play.
How to Get with Jenny Robin -- chapter one
It was the end of the work day and not more than fifteen minutes to quitting time. Suddenly, the Cableman’s boss called out over the company radio, “Cableman?”
“Yeah, Boss...”
“Be sure to stop by my office before clocking out for the day. Let’s have a little chat, just you and me.”
“Sure, Boss...”
Today was probably the worst day of the Cableman’s life. Surely the topic of discussion would be the little run-in that the Cableman had with a customer during a morning install. It would be a miracle if the he still had a job at the end of the day—even more of a miracle if the police weren’t waiting to arrest him. At the very least, the Cableman expected a company write-up with three days suspension and no pay. That’s what he deserved after the little stunt pulled with a young and pretty female customer that morning.
The Cableman pulled into the cable yard and backed the van into its designated parking spot for the evening. Sickening adrenaline spiked through the Cableman’s veins as he clicked his steel toed boots up the parking lot and into the office. It was almost five o’clock and no need for the sexy tool belt hanging from his waist. He left it in the back of the van with the rest of his tools for the night. And those dark, mysterious, utility sunglasses were removed as he cautiously walked down the air conditioned hallway and to the boss’ office.
The Cableman now stood at the entrance of his boss’ office.
“Have a seat, Cableman.” demanded the boss.
The Cableman did as ordered.
The boss stared at the Cableman for a few seconds before speaking. “Now I want you to be honest with me. I was driving down Main Street this afternoon at around 1:30, and saw your cable van parked at the gym. I radioed the secretary and asked if you were doing an install at that location. As I found out, there were no work orders for the gym. What time did you report going to lunch, today?”
The Cableman immediately answered, “About 12:10.”
“12:10... And you’re aware that lunch is only a half hour, right?”
“Yes...”
“So maybe you can explain why your van was at the gym at 1:30 this afternoon?”
The Cableman only shrugged his shoulders. Although seriously in hot water, he felt somewhat relieved that the meeting didn’t address what currently appeared to be an unreported incident with a female customer.
The boss loudly exhaled and shook his head in disgust. “Alright, consider this to be your verbal warning. You get thirty minutes for lunch and not a second more, got it? If I find you’re handling personal business on company time, again, you’ll receive a written warning, understand?”
“Yes boss!”
And that was all the boss wished to discuss for the afternoon. The overwhelming stress and anxiety of losing his job or being arrested by the police was unnecessary. But how long would the Cableman experience such paranoia and anxiety? How he wished that the incident didn’t take place that morning with the young and pretty female customer. What the hell happened to the Cableman in those moments? What caused him to behave so irrationally?
***
Earlier that morning the Cableman drove through the deeply-wooded subdivision in search of his next customer’s house. Apparently an older home that never had cable, the job was listed as a “primary” install. This meant that the incoming line had to be fed into the home and then an outlet added near the customer’s TV. Such an install could take two hours to complete.
But that’s not what was on the Cableman’s mind. The customer’s name, Jenny Robin, had the Cableman most curious of what she looked like. Perhaps she was gorgeous and voluptuous with long, red hair and large breasts. The Cableman couldn’t wait to see her!
The final road led to a long, forested driveway; a good thousand feet of gravel with dense trees to surround him. When finally reaching the residence, the charming, nostalgic two-story was embedded in secluded forest with a good mile of woods behind it. Make no mistake about it; the home of Jenny Robin was isolated in the middle of nowhere.
Jenny Robin did not appear as the Cableman expected. Rather than a voluptuous, gorgeous redhead with large breasts, it was a young and pretty woman with long, brown hair and dark eyes who greeted him. Her body was exquisite with nothing out of the ordinary. It was almost as-if nature created the young woman to be perfectly balanced—perhaps like a model with undeniable photogenic appearance to be easily used in catalog print. And there was almost something mysterious and alluring about her manners. As the two exchanged greetings, the Cableman soon believed that the customer was too pretty; too perfect for him.
The Cableman has certainly enjoyed more than his share of beautiful, gorgeous women. But as he believes, some women are truly out of his league. The Cableman was trash in comparison to Jenny. For a woman like Jenny, there was a special man; and it certainly wasn’t someone like the Cableman. For this unpleasant reality, it was best to complete the job, professionally, and leave to never recall the woman again.
But if the Cableman didn’t know any better, the young and pretty customer that morning was nearly in love with him! She led the Cableman into the family room and pointed over towards the TV. “I want the cable installed in this room.” There was almost a note of hope in her voice that perhaps the Cableman would make one of his daring moves. And how deeply her eyes set into his. Sometimes the Cableman found it necessary to look away. And he surely blushed while resuming eye contact as the customer was apparently aware of how the Cableman felt for her.
Running a line from the telephone pole and feeding it to the customer’s house should have given the Cableman a chance to come back to his senses. This is what he hoped while walking out to the cable van for a roll of outdoor cable; all the while reminding himself that Jenny had no need for loving from the handsome, muscular Cableman. Jenny was special and not someone in need of an “average Joe” like the Cableman. This morning’s install was to be handled professionally, and he was to leave as quickly as possible.
But what was this? As the Cableman stood on the ladder and connected his safety belt to the telephone pole, the young and pretty customer casually strolled outside and slowly walked through the yard in a lovely sundress while stroking her long and pretty, brown hair. Many times she stared up at him with beckoning eyes. It was almost as-if she wished for the Cableman to take notice of her beauty. But the Cableman knew better! There was no reason why a customer couldn’t walk around her own backyard on a fine morning while cable was being installed. Jenny Robin was so beautiful, perfect and remarkably special. She wasn’t attempting to attract the Cableman’s attention!
But she seemed to further go out of her way in attracting the Cableman’s attention as he installed the outlet inside the house. Jenny stood nearby and said not a word, but left the Cableman feeling as though he should have made small talk.
“It’s such a nice morning outside.” the Cableman finally commented.
“Oh, I know. It’s gorgeous outside.”
 Where-as other female customers dressed provocatively if in need of something from the Cableman, Jenny maintained a conservative, old-fashioned appearance. This is one of the things that made her so perfect and so beautiful. There was something suggestive that perhaps she wanted more than just a hot and steamy quickie with the Cableman. She seemed to truly like him and the two could resonate, become best friends... perhaps lovers.
The Cableman accidentally dropped his pliers on the ground. Jenny immediately bent over for the pliers so that her body nearly hovered the Cableman. Her long, beautiful, brown hair brushed against the Cableman’s face and shoulders. In that second he breathed her in and felt her become a part of him.
She had difficulty reaching the pliers and nearly fought with the Cableman as to who would be first to grab them. It was necessary for Jenny to squat next to him and overreach just to grab the pliers and finally hand them over. In that moment, her soft and pretty face with beautiful, brown eyes were just inches from the Cableman’s face. Both sets of eyes locked onto one another. The Cableman could nearly drink her beauty in and just taste the shared electricity.
“Thank you...” The Cableman took the pliers and desperately pulled himself back to Earth. He quickly looked away to resume making the connections at the cable outlet. Suddenly it all came clear to the Cableman. There was a good reason why Jenny Robin made the Cableman feel so uncomfortable, like he was seconds from falling to pieces. Although the Cableman never believed in love at first sight; he was purely, undeniably, head-over-heels in love with Jenny! How did this happen? Maybe she casted a love spell on him!
Nonsense! The Cableman didn’t believe in that stuff. Since when does the Cableman who cares for the needs of many lonely women suddenly fall head-over-heels for a beautiful customer? He checked the picture quality on the TV and then looked up to Jenny who continued to gaze back with mesmerizing, mysterious, brown eyes. The two were truly meant to be together. The Cableman was her destiny.
 A deep sadness filled the air as the Cableman held out his clipboard and filled out the paperwork. This would be their last moment together, never another chance to fulfill the destiny. And as the Cableman presented the clipboard for the customer’s signature, there Jenny Robin stood with heartbroken expression. Where was her hero? Wasn’t he going to be bold and make the move to initiate their happily ever after?
The Cableman momentarily set the clipboard down. “You know, I was thinking... Um... maybe I’m a little out of line for doing this... But... maybe you and I can go out some time, like go out on a date?”
She stepped back and returned a queer expression. Why in the world did the Cableman make a move on her? What did Jenny do to even suggest that she was interested in the Cableman?
Now confused and panic-stricken, the Cableman did the only thing he knew at the moment. He leaned in and gave the customer a kiss to her lips. He was serious about her! Where-as so many other customers were given nothing more than hot and steamy quickies before leaving, the Cableman was desperately in love with Jenny Robin. He wanted her, forever! He wished to marry her and start a family. It happens to every man. A woman comes along who knocks a man off his feet and changes his life forever. Jenny Robin was the woman who the Cableman was supposed to marry. He kissed her more and more, ever so deeply and passionately. The kisses would help her remember the feelings from just moments ago. Maybe the Cableman simply took her by surprise. Kisses relax a woman and help her to remember, right?
But Jenny presented even more of her cold shoulder. She pushed away and ran over to the other corner of the room. “Keep away from me!” she ordered.
This further confused the Cableman. “What’s wrong with you? What happened?”
“Keep away from me! Just leave! I’ll sign your paperwork, and then leave!”
“But... we had something, didn’t we? Didn’t you just feel that a moment ago?”
Another queer expression was given in return as Jenny shook her head, no. She also did something in that moment to impose the feeling that perhaps the Cableman merely took leave of his senses for a brief moment.
“No!” the Cableman cried out. “You can’t do this to me!” He nearly charged over to the customer who could only remain motionless and in apparent shock at what was happening. Then the Cableman seized her for some more crazy, frantic kisses. It was in her, he knew it. The Cableman was going to make Jenny Robin remember the feelings from just moments ago.
Jenny wrestled and fought with the stark raving lunatic who could not let go. She finally broke free and pushed the Cableman away. While letting out a bloodcurdling scream, Jenny ran towards the back door. She had to escape before something bad happened!
The Cableman chased after her. “Jenny stop! Stop it! You’re just scared, now, that’s all. You cannot run away from me like this.” Just inches from the door, the Cableman grabbed a fistful of the customer’s beautiful sundress and pulled her close.
To protect her body from the Cableman, she held her forearms against her chest with closed fists near her face. She did not want the Cableman near. Why couldn’t he leave her alone?
“Jenny, listen to me!” the Cableman aggressively shook the customer. “We have something. You cannot deny that! Can’t you feel the love between us? We’re supposed to be together. We’re destiny!”
Mention of these things threw the customer into more panic and provided the strength to attack the Cableman with vicious pounding and slapping with her fists and open hands. She gave one, final shove with an unexplained force that launched the Cableman across the room. This gave her the much needed chance to run out the back door and down the stairs of the wooden deck.
The Cableman simply chased behind and nearly jumped down the flight of deck stairs after the customer. “Jenny! Jenny, where are you going?”
Isolated, in the middle of nowhere and apparently confused, Jenny ran towards the edge of her property and into the forest. She felt safe in the woods for some reason. Surely the Cableman wouldn’t bother going after her once in the forest.
But Jenny was wrong! The Cableman continued to chase after her. “Please don’t run away like this! Come-on, Jenny! I love you! Don’t you understand? I love you Jenny Robin!”
Chasing and chasing through the forest. Every woman certainly enjoys a little game of chase, perhaps a little “hard to get”. She might call out in a cute, little voice, “Catch me if you can!” and then run off with the desperate pursuer behind her. But the fun of finally getting caught is the whole purpose of “catch me if you can”. Eventually she surrenders and enjoys her reward.
Jenny Robin made the game so real... maybe a little too real. Rather than giggle and squeal while leading the chase, she made desperate, blood curdling screams while crying out for someone to please help her. There was a crazed psycho behind her who wouldn’t leave her alone. What did she do to deserve this? From what Jenny recalled, outside of being a little friendly, she made no effort to show interest in the Cableman.
The more Jenny imposed these feelings of the Cableman being out of touch with reality, the more he desperately tried to make his overwhelming desires mutually shared. Sweating profusely, while fighting through bushes and sometimes running across streams after the woman he loved, the Cableman continued to call out, “Jenny! You can’t do this to me! I love you! I’ve never felt this way for another woman! You did this to me! I know you did! You wanted me to feel this way for you! Please come back to me!”
But Jenny continued to run all the faster. Crazy Cableman; where did he ever get ideas like that in his head? Some men fall apart in the presence of a beautiful woman, and for some reason convince themselves that she has feelings for him. But the Cableman was going to have to come back to his senses. Whatever the Cableman did to himself; he was going to have to undo it, and realize that the intense feelings felt were all generated by his own internal fantasies.
Suddenly, Jenny felt the unwelcome tug on the shoulder strap of her sundress. The Cableman succeeded in reaching her. “I got you!” he called out.
This fueled Jenny with more adrenaline as she let out a terrifying scream and quickly pulled away. It caused the strap of her sundress to tear so that half of the dress fell below her left breast that was protected by a beautiful, floral bra.
It was a heart stopping sight for the Cableman. But he watched as the woman he loved get away. And there was something about seeing her with a torn dress that restored the Cableman’s senses. Torn dresses suggest aggression which further suggests game over. The Cableman did not want this to turn out to be an assault. In combination with this was the sound of the nearby highway. Jenny succeeded in leading the chase to the other edge of the forest where the main highway was located. The Cableman certainly wasn’t going to pursue what appeared to be a terrified customer with torn dress and bra exposed down a busy highway. Someone would see and believe there to be an assault taking place.
Splashed with the cold, hard bucket of reality; the Cableman stopped and turned around for a very, sad and heartbroken return back to the customer’s house. The whole thing just seemed so real. But apparently Jenny did not share the same feelings. The poor Cableman fell under some strange spell of delusion.
***
It was late in the evening as the Cableman sat in the dark kitchen. Moving not a muscle as he pondered on the horrible incident earlier that day, the Cableman remained a disheveled, heartbroken mess. He understood, fully, what happened and realized it was time to forget Jenny Robin. But no matter how hard he tried, he could not lose the feelings for her. In fact, those delusional feelings of being madly in love returned. It was as-if the Cableman wished to drive back over to the customer’s house to try again. But he knew better. He was just going to have to recover and eventually forget Jenny Robin.

In the meantime, across town, Jenny Robin sat in her darkened family room with such bitterness and resentment towards the Cableman. She loved him and needed him so badly. But he gave up! Why did the Cableman have to be such a weak man? Jenny Robin needed a strong man who believed in himself and had confidence. She was only playing a little “hard to get”; and the Cableman gave up so easily? Some men simply aren’t worth the time.

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Gypsy Wife

Hello All:
Whatever happened to the Gypsies of yesterday? I remember as kid that Gypsies were strange people who worked in carnivals or circuses. They could read your palm and tell your fortune, or tell the future by looking at cards and crystal balls. They were often tangled up in a life of criminal activity; stealing or some form of organized crime. And they were well known for migrating through town and stealing people's children.
I watch these reality TV shows like My Gypsy Wedding. From what it portrays; in comparison to the Gypsies of yesterday, Gypsies are simply wealthy and attractive women who freely use the "F" word. I've seen another Reality show about Gypsies in the U.K. They are portrayed as simply uneducated, ill-mannered people who live in trailer parks.
***
It looks like I have a new series of short stories for the Literary World of Tom Raimbault that centers around a middle-aged fictional character that I call Pias the Gypsy. He has an obsession with fifteen-year-old Melanie. In today's story he reveals the details of his previous marriage; how he abducted a sixteen-year-old girl and turned her into his Gypsy bride. Is this what he wants with Melanie?
If you've ever wondered what happened to the Gypsies of yesterday, I have brought them back for you.
Gypsy Wife
Fifteen-year-old Melanie was sitting on a swing at the park one Sunday afternoon; when out of nowhere, Pias the Gypsy stood next to her. It startled Melanie, especially since her lastencounter with him while visiting her Aunt not more than a week ago.
“Don't be frightened." reassured Pias. 'I know you are uneasy with everything. Let me tell you that I was once in love with a girl like you. At the time I was younger—in my thirties. The circus was always traveling from town to town, and this time was stationed in Minnesota for about three weeks. And I just so happened to have friends who invited me to stay with them while I was in town. This would provide me a chance to get away from the circus when I wasn't working.
These friends were actually the parents of a friend of mine who remembered me. Their kids were all grown up and married with families of their own. They were open to having me stay with them while their son (my friend) would often see me during my stay.
There was something else. Their daughter (my friend's older sister) and her husband were apparently having some financial hardships, and had moved back home with mom and dad. They had children of their own. One of them was a beautiful, young woman named Mira who had just turned 16. She had long, shiny, black hair with mysterious dark eyes, and a pretty face that was perfect like a porcelain doll. And just like you, she had an undeniable attraction and fascination with me. Out of the corner of my eye, I would catch her looking at me. Then she would quickly look away when I glanced over in her direction. And there was also something else interesting that was happening. Through time, she actually began to develop Gypsy eyes. You've seen them before; deeply set eyes with a certain gaze that seems to long and hunger for something as if lost, or looking for something. I began to suspect that perhaps during my visit, I had triggered some memories of a past life in which she had been a Gypsy. The more she encountered me, the more she longed to return to it.
Secretly I began to fall in love with her. I suppose it was fate that she and I would be brought together. But time was running out. The circus was in town for only a few weeks, and I would soon have to pack up and go to the next destination. Chances are I would never see her again. At most I might one day return, and she would have a husband and children of her own.
It was on a Tuesday evening, a night when I did not have to work at the circus, when I found myself to be home alone with her. Both her parents and grandparents had gone to pick up one of the cars that were at the auto mechanic's.—you know; everyone pile into one car, drive there and then someone drives the other car home?
As always, she was a bit bashful and shy around me; but did speak when spoken to. So I attempted a more deeper conversation, "My mother taught me how to tell fortunes with cards." I began. "Would you like me to read your fortune for you?"
She agreed.
Both of us sat down at the kitchen table. I pulled out my deck of cards and spread them out. "Uh-huh... Very interesting..."
"What? What is it?" she asked.
"It says in a past life that you were a Gypsy. It says that my visit has enabled you to remember small portions of this life, and that you have a longing to return to the Gypsy life." I put the cards down and stared deeply into her eyes while asking, "Have you been having memories of your past life?"
She only shrugged her shoulders and shook her head, "Not that I know of."
That's when I stood up, walked over to her and began combing her long, black, pretty hair. "Come with me." I urged. "Leave your parents, your siblings and your school mates behind. Return to the life that you long for—the life of a Gypsy. I've seen how you've been looking at me in the few weeks that I've stayed here. You long for me, and wish for me to be your husband. Together we can start a new life... the life you wish for... the life of a Gypsy."
The moment might have been somewhat overwhelming and frightening for her. She trembled and shook her head, no. She even begged me to go away. But I knew in her heart that she really wanted to come with me and return to the life of a Gypsy. At a loss of what to do at the moment, I simply retired to my room and lay down.
Not more than an hour later, there was a loud rap at my bedroom door. It was her grandfather—my friend's father who allowed me to stay there.
"Did you talk to Mira and ask her to leave with you and become your wife?"
I was shocked and couldn't believe that Mira had disclosed the details of our personal conversation to other people. I knew that in her heart she really wished for what I suggested. But now that people knew, it would be difficult to follow through with it.
"I... I..." Unsure of what to say, all I could do was stutter.
"I'm going to have to ask you to leave!" said Mira's grandfather. "She's really shook up about this, and crying. You better leave if you know what's best for you! Her father was seconds from busting down your door and taking care of you. Instead, he's gone outside for a walk to calm down. You better leave before things get out of control!"
I didn't have many belongings—just some dirty clothes, toiletries and some small items I had acquired during the visit. I quickly packed up and ran out of the house. But before scampering out the door I caught a quick view of Mira who had made eye contact with me. She was confused and bewildered; wished that things hadn't turned out this way. Like I said before; she longed for me and longed to return to the life of a Gypsy.
***
If you've ever wondered why abduction is one of the many lifestyles of a Gypsy, I'll tell you. In the case of Mira, she knew what she wanted but had some inhibitions and reservations. It was up to me to rescue her and help her break through to freedom.
It was on the final day of the circus being in town, a Monday morning following the previous evening's last show before we head out. A colleague who worked in the circus allowed me to borrow his car. I knew that Mira walked to school each day, and I somewhat knew of her route. This made it easy for me to park the car in an alleyway that intersected Mira's walk to school.
The trunk was open, and I hid on the opposite side of the building, just close enough to the sidewalk where I could quickly grab Mira. In the pocket of my jacket was a hypodermic needle with drugs that would immediately put her to sleep.
I listened for her foot steps and then walked out in front of her when I believed she was close enough. And she was; by about two feet.
Mira looked up at me in terror, and seemed to know what was about to happen.
"Relax..." I reassured her. "Everything will be fine.
She tried to run away, but I was able to grab her arm. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the needle. It was stuck into her shoulder and the drugs rushed in.
Her body almost immediately went limp. She was light enough for me to lift up and throw into the truck of the car. I slammed it shut and drove back to the site to continue with helping the breakdown of the circus.
About six hours later, I noticed that police had come for an apparent investigation. I knew they were looking for me. But before they saw me—before anyone could summon me to talk to the police—I sneaked out to my colleague's car and opened the trunk.
Mira was awake and bit groggy.
"Shhhhh... Everything is okay." I reassured her. "Here, have some water." I had a bottle of water in my jacket and dumped the contents into her mouth.
She swallowed and nearly choked.
"That's enough!" I said while pulling the bottle away. You can have more, later. We'll be leaving tonight, and soon you will be my Gypsy bride. Before she could notice, I pulled out another needle and stuck it into Mira's arm which put her back to sleep.
Upon returning to the area where I worked, I was immediately recognized by the owner and handed over to the police for questioning. Although I hadn't been arrested, I was forced to answer their questions, right there on the work site.
"Were you staying at Roger Dawlis' house for a few weeks while the circus was in town?" one of the officers asked.
"I was..."
"Did you have any conversations with his granddaughter, Mira Leeland?"
"She lives there." I explained. "So through time we did exchange simple conversation."
The officer went right for the throat, "And did you ask her to run away with you and marry her?"
I nervously laughed and shook my head in disbelief before explaining, "At one point I did mention to her the lifestyle of Gypsies and said that sometimes young women are abducted and forced to become Gypsy brides. But I think it might have gotten to her head. I think she believed that maybe I was suggesting that she should do this."
The other officer who remained silent suddenly spoke up. "You look nervous! Is there something wrong?"
"No..." I calmly answered. "I guess I'm just concerned about what all of this could be about. Is Mira okay?"
"She's been reported as missing." answered the other officer.
"Oh no!" I exclaimed with hand to opened mouth.
"You're not a suspect, yet." continued the officer. "But you are a person of interest. Do you have a sleeping quarters? Would you mind if we checked?"
"Of course not." I reassured the officer. "Please look all you need."
I remained outside while the officers checked my sleeping quarters. As for Mira out in the trunk; I had nothing to fear. My colleague who let me borrow his car wouldn’t inform the police of what I had done. This is how Gypsies are. We stick together and take care of our own. In fact, many people who worked in the circus were aware that I had abducted Mira. It's just the lifestyle of a Gypsy, and so is evading the police.
The officers found nothing, but I was asked not to go too far in case they had other questioning. I wasn't going to obey them. The circus fully packed up and we head out of town by the following evening.
Much of the circus traveled by train; which meant that the performers and managers had their sleeping and living quarters, subdivided on box cars. As for my Gypsy bride to be; Mira had been moved into my sleeping quarters and was kept locked up in a large trunk that sat next to my bed. I regularly opened it to see how she was doing.
"Are you okay?" I would softly ask. I knew she was sick and experiencing withdrawal from the drugs.
She would nod.
"How about some water?" I offered.
She would eagerly drink.
I was sure to bring her food throughout our travel.
I would carry her over to use the chamber pot when needed, and then would put her back to the trunk when she was finished.
At night I would comb my fingers through her pretty hair and softly kiss her cheek while telling her how much I loved her.
By the third day of our travel, some of the Gypsy women had entered my quarters and asked if they could see Mira. Everyone was very excited with the new addition to our family and a wedding in the near future.
Proudly I opened the trunk and displayed my bride to be.
The women immediately fell in love with her.
"Oh, she's beautiful!"
"So pretty!"
"So young!"
"Let her out! We'll take such, good care of her!"
I did as the Gypsy women requested.
They escorted Mira to another area of the living quarters and immediately dressed her in Gypsy clothes. They applied Gypsy makeup to her face, and decorated her with fine jewelry. You see; stealing is part of the lifestyle of a Gypsy, so we have an abundance of everything. We come into this world with nothing—no home, no possessions, no respect, and no laws to obey. So we take whatever we want and make it ours—clothing, jewelry, money and things of great value. Gypsies are very wealthy for this reason. And a Gypsy bride will always be decorated with the finest clothing and jewelry.
It didn't take long before Mira tossed away her reservations of becoming a Gypsy. In fact, she might have forgotten and left her previous life behind the very moment she took a look at herself in the mirror. From that moment on, she was mine...
...for about six years, that is—two of those years worked at the circus.
You see, Mira was very young and vibrant with a gradual tendency to be consumed with the novelty of things. The circus would arrive at a new town, which would be a fresh start for Mira and me. But after the first couple of weeks in the new town, the experience would get stale for her. This staleness would soon be projected onto me and our marriage.
She was an acrobat in the circus, and had a habit of flirting with young men out in the audience. She had those Gypsy eyes and could easily suggest a night of romance just by locking eyes with a male of interest.
I tried not to let it get the best of me. I realized that nothing could ever come out of it. Spectators, after all, were not allowed behind stage. But then Mira began to flirt and come-on to other men who worked in the circus. Many times I had to fight other men for Mira, and almost lost. A couple of times I had gotten so frustrated that I even smacked her in the face and bruised her up pretty bad. You see; this is acceptable in Gypsy society. Sometimes a wife can become rebellious and disobedient. The husband must regain control which sometimes includes giving his wife a good beating.
One time I tried to reason with her. "Look; we travel from town to town. You are young and get bored easily. You just have to deal with it. We always move on and you get a fresh start. Just try to remind yourself of this."
I didn't work so well.
By the end of those two years of working in the circus, the authorities caught up to us. They were looking for Mira who had surely been abducted, and I was the prime suspect. Many people run away and join the circus. But we actually did the opposite, and ran away from the circus for freedom.
Gypsies stick together and take care of their own. My Gypsy family in the circus pooled money together, and we were given an old camper with a wad of small cash to get us on our feet. This enabled us to drive off into the sunset and remain one step in front of the law.
We made money by traveling from town to town where carnivals were set up for weekends or events. We simply pulled our camper into whatever parking lot a carnival was held and set ourselves up as the "Gypsy Attraction". I would read people's fortunes with cards. Mira would bring groups of people into the camper where they would pay to see her perform mesmerizing belly dancing. Most of the time these spectators were young men who hoped they could offer her more money for additional services. I was outraged upon learning this, but tried to keep my head.
At almost every carnival we worked, Mira provoked a young man to become interested in her. And just as things looked like this young man would finally succeed in breaking the ice, it would be time for the carnival to be broken down and for us to head out on the road in search of more work. Finally, she was mine again... for a brief while.
This went on for a few years. And it wasn't until I came home from one of the beer tents after working one night that I discovered Mira lying naked in our marital bed with a young man. He was having sex with her. It broke my heart and I knew that our marriage could never be the same. I just walked away... far, far away; away from the carnival and away from the town. I walked away from it all and started a new life.
And here I am today.”
***
Melanie looked away from Pias and down at the ground. His story was definitely mesmerizing, and maybe a trick to hypnotize her into following him. Is this what Pias wanted from Melanie? Did he want to take her away from her family, and turn Melanie into his Gypsy wife?
Pias added more, "I know you are aware that it isn't uncommon for Gypsy men to have relationships with young women your age to teach them how to be good lovers. But those relationships are only temporary. I wish to have something with you that is better than what I had with Mira. I wish for you to be my Gypsy bride so we can be together, forever.
Come with me, Melanie. Leave your family behind and start a new life with me as a Gypsy."
Suddenly, there was a carousel on the grounds of the park. It spun round and round as the animals bobbed up and down. It looked just as frightening as the time when Pias brought the balloons in her Aunt's house. There were acrobats, and trapeze artists; clowns and lion tamers; freaky people of all walks of life who waved at Melanie as they rode the carousel.
"Come with us Melanie... Come with us Melanie..."
Melanie screamed and sat up in bed. It was another strange dream; apparently a recurring dream about Pias the Gypsy. How much longer would these go on?

The End!