Too Much of a Good Thing

Too Much of a Good Thing: A Fantasy of Excess.

Chapter VI: Betrayal and Boating

It’s amazing how one makes these judgments about people that turn out to be wildly inaccurate. I suppose I should speak only for myself, but I suspect the tendency is universal. Take, for instance, my boss, Susan. I’ve described her as an overly ambitious career female who (very possibly using means not available to the likes of myself!) advanced her career to the level of her own incompetence, as a result of which she lived under the permanent stress that comes with not being on top of your job. So far so good. But the connotation that this brings --- that Susan went home each evening with a furrowed brow, a frozen pizza and a full briefcase --- turned out to be about as far from the truth as one could get. Susan’s apparent lack of competence was due less to inherent disability than to her shedding her job like a suit of clothes every evening at 5, and, more pertinently, for the entire stretch of the weekend. In today’s corporate world, where even the minor executive is expected to work for the company practically round the clock, this put her at a definite disadvantage, and one is moved to suspect that she got away with it only because….. Oh well -- you will be wondering how I know all this I’m sure, and all will presently fall into place. But to begin at the beginning…..

During the long reflective hours on the fishing boat I hired out of Cabos San Lucas I had come to the conclusion that I needed to swear a strict vow of celibacy for as long as it took to re-adjust to the normal world. In this I was helped enormously by my skipper, who recognized and adjusted to my mood and cheered me immensely by saying, around the fifth day, ‘I know your problem amigo. Women! I smell it on you. You reek of the rotten fish of unfaithful women. Give it up amigo! They aren’t worth it. Look around you. Is not the sun, the sea and the fish a thousand times more beautiful than the most beautiful of women -- and a million times more faithful? Why you think Hemmingway fish all time, heh?’

Excess had been kind and cruel to me both, and in all conscience I could not say that the things I had done I would not do again in the same circumstances. Excess is a part of ‘la condition humaine’ and there is no per se stigma attached to it, at least not in my book. The problem for me was one of control. Excess had entered my life by the back door, if one will, and by its nature tends to be controlling. My episodes with Angel and then Diana, brief as they had been, taught me the awful consequences for the psyche when excess gains the upper hand. So I vowed to take the fisherman’s well-meant advice, spend lots of time outdoors, start running again and visiting the gym – all those healthful active things that are supposed to tone up your body, quiet down your mind and grace your soul with peace.

But my resolve lasted barely a week, which is the interval that elapsed between my return from Cabos San Lucas and Susan’s calling me to her office for a ‘chat’. I was about to find out that there was a lot more to Susan than met the casual eye! And less you judge me harshly for the means whereby I found this out ….. well, here’s what happened. Come to a conclusion for yourself whether or not I had any real freedom of choice.

‘Ron,’ she said. ‘We’ve worked together for a while. So you know me well enough to recognize when I’m doing you a favor.’ I just looked at her, quite puzzled and unable to hazard the slightest guess what was coming next. ‘Let me not spell it out here, Ron,’ she continued, meeting my gaze head on. ‘Better you come to my place tonight. Here’s the address, see you at 7.’ And therewith I was dismissed!

Total bewilderment. What does one do? What could this be about? It certainly did not sound like an ‘advance’ or anything of that nature. But why at her apartment? Unwittingly, and against all reason I began for the first time to see in Susan not just an ambitious, focused career woman, but a sexual being. Well that’s the way guys react when a lady invites them to her place at 7 in the evening. It’s how we’re programmed. Whatever the realities and the rational, we think unconsciously that we are being fancied. And we react accordingly, dick before the head!

So I turned up at the appointed hour, still very confused but feeling that, should this turn out to be an ‘opportunity’, my vows of celibacy would not be worth the proverbial hill o’ beans. I may have discovered this only recently, but Susan was definitely an attractive woman. Her features were quietly appealing and she moved with grace. So if it came to it, I was definitely not going to say No!, and it was with that prickly feeling of anticipation, against all reason, that I hit the downstairs bell. The door opener buzzed to let me in. And of course, things turned out to be different from anything I had expected and evolved into something much more complicated than I could have possibly imagined.

Susan’s place was not ostentatious, rather quietly well appointed – much what I would have expected -- and she welcomed me quite politely, if with little warmth. ‘Drink?’ ‘Bourbon …… Thanks!’ I was sitting on the couch facing into a large TV screen. ‘Ron,’ said Susan, ‘I’m going run a video now and then I’ll leave. I want you to watch the video for as long as you wish to and when you are ready call me. I’ll be within hearing. Ok?’ Well of course I was completely nonplussed about this but, still unsuspecting, I settled into the couch and Susan inserted the cassette into the machine, pressed the ‘roll’ button, and then left without a single glance in my direction.

The screen flickered and the title referred to something like ‘Amateur Spy-Cam#125’ or some such. When the action started the lighting was strongly subdued and the film grainy. But there was no doubt about the lead characters -- two figures engaged in ….? in a Queen Anne chair…… I twigged fast. Ten seconds were sufficient. ‘Susan,’ I called out. ‘Susan!’ She re-entered the room. ‘Shall I turn it off?’ ‘Please do,’ said I. ‘Her name was … is Diana.’ I embarked on an elaborate, if not entirely truthful explanation. Susan held up her hand. ‘Ron, you don’t owe me an explanation. Just confirm --- do you remember a couple of months ago when we were under pressure you had a couple of days when…..’ ‘Yes! That was it. You’ve hit the nail on the head.’ ‘Ron, would it surprise you to know that there are other videos…… at least so I am told?’ Suddenly the curtain had been drawn back and many imponderables resolved! I suppose I should have been devastated, but somehow I was not. Maybe that Mexican skipper had helped me more than both of us realized. ‘No! It would not,’ I said glumly. ‘But believe me, it’s not the way you think. Tell me,’ I said, taking a large gulp of bourbon, ‘How did you find this video?’ ‘Oh presently, Ron, presently,’ was her reply. ‘Have you had dinner?’

She had cooked herself, she said. Veal scallopini with artichokes and penna pasta. And a superb Chianti Classico to wash it down. My revision of Susan as a person was becoming complete. But where were we headed? This I was burning to know. ‘Ron,’ she said, fork akimbo, ‘how many takes did you do for that video?’ ‘Takes?’ I asked in genuine bewilderment. ‘What do you mean, ‘Takes’? I had no idea that we were being filmed.’ ‘Aha! You mean that from your perspective, this was a natural encounter?’ ‘Of course! MiGod! Diana and I were.. well… we were highly attracted to each other.’ ‘Oh really!’ ‘Yes! Really.’ Pause. ‘Well I do not doubt this, from your perspective.’ ‘What do you mean ‘From my perspective’,’ I said heatedly. Somehow, her manner irritated me so I decided to go the ‘shock therapy’ route. ‘Look!’ I said. ‘You’ve presumably seen the movie. Diana orgasmed eleven times that night! Is that attraction or is it not?’ But this directness did not perturb Susan one iota. ‘Ron,’ she said patiently, and I thought a shade condescendingly. ‘Actually, it appears that three full-length videos were made with that material so if it was all in one night, then it must have been a good one! And I do not doubt at all that your partner appeared to come eleven times.’ ‘What do you mean ‘appeared’!’ I said, heatedly. ‘What I say, Ron,’ said Susan chewing lightly on her veal. ‘Your young partner --- Diana, I think you called her --- knew that she was being filmed? Or did she not?’ Pause. I wrestled with that one for quite a while. ‘Well I guess she must have done,’ I said grudgingly. The goddamn vixen must have been party to the wiring of my bedroom! She must even have known all along it was going to be done. ‘Good! I’m glad you’ve got that far Ron. Now you need to take it a stage further and ask yourself ‘Can a woman who knows she is being filmed really come?’ ’. Hesitation. ‘You mean ….. You mean Diana’s reactions were feigned? She didn’t come at all? It was just fake?’ ‘Well I wasn’t there, Ron, so of course I couldn’t presume to know for sure. I’m just asking you to examine the facts in the light of what you have learned about women throughout your life. As a woman myself, I find it’s difficult enough to come when one is assured of absolute privacy. I can only regard it from my own perspective, of course, but I am quite sure that I, for one, could never orgasm if there were even the slightest suspicion in my mind that I was being filmed. Everyone is different of course, but I would have to seriously doubt that it is possible for any woman to actually orgasm naturally when she knows she is being filmed.’ ‘MiGod Susan,’ I said, recognizing reluctantly the force of her argument. ‘You sure ain’t doing a whole hell of a lot for my ego!’ ‘Au contraire, Ron. Au contraire!’ said Susan with emphasis. ‘The important thing is that you did not know you were being filmed. The fact that your partner did and perhaps engaged in a bit of acting does not in the slightest degree diminish your performance.’ ‘What do you mean, ‘Performance!’,’ I said, again heatedly. ‘I was not performing -- at least not consciously--- I was making love to a woman I happened to be very attracted to.’ ‘And this did not go unnoticed, Ron,’ said Susan pointedly. ‘Not at all. It was very impressive indeed! Oh Yes! This was certainly noticed!’

I paused and looked at Susan askance. ‘You’re talking in riddles,’ I said. ‘Look, let’s stop beating about the bush. This is all very well, The veal was great, the wine superb, I’m grateful to you for showing me that certain things I had assumed were one thing were in fact entirely another. You’ve opened my eyes and I can see now that I was duped and used in just about the most humiliating way a guy can be duped and used. So! I’ve taken that on the record. I’ll assimilate it one day, no doubt. But how does it affect you? What is your angle on all this?’ ‘It’s much simpler than you think, Ron. It’s just this. I am connected to, shall we say, certain persons. And in the context of my activity with these persons, my attention was drawn to this video and, let us say, one or two others. I may say, if it’s any comfort to you that the videos were singled out without any knowledge of the personal connection between you and me. There was no advance knowledge of the connection to the firm.’ ‘The – er - firm?’ ‘Yes! The firm. Our firm, you know, the one that pays our salaries.’

I did now, finally, detect through the note of irony in her tone that she was not quite as dumb a blonde as I had supposed. I was silent, but after an exchange of pregnant looks managed, ‘So what does this have to do with me. I admit I was duped, and God knows what they did with all the material, but I do not see what this has to do with the firm.’ ‘Ah well, that’s where the party who uncovered the video comes into it, you see. Well, you’ll understand in the fullness of time. Meanwhile, I’m sure you would prefer that the knowledge you and I have now about these videos stays in the family, so to speak. I, for one, do not think it would go down at all well if certain people within the firm were to find out. What do you think?’ I thought I was beginning to see the drift. I was silent. ‘You see, Ron,’ Susan continued, ‘life sometimes comes up with little surprises. Like this one. Possibly, very possibly, this one is not the last one we need to share. Are you following me? ‘You’re talking in riddles again,’ I said grimly. ‘So you caught me out. I admit I am the person in the videos -- or at least, the one that I’ve seen. I did not know I was being filmed….. ‘

Suddenly I remembered about the terrace. What was I saying. Of course I knew I was being filmed! I was just under a misapprehension as to what the film would be used for! And to think how I had pined away for Angel! What a fool! What an idiot! And how right that Mexican skipper was, indeed he was! I renewed my vows tenfold!! ‘Oh Ron,’ Susan said brightly, ‘Let’s not waste any more time. Tell me. Do you like women like me? Do you find us attractive?’ ‘Er, of course. Yes! Certainly! Quite… well .. er … I find you very attractive.’ ‘Well there you are see! You’re not hung up on young girls after all.’ ‘Er!’ Was I understanding this? ‘No. Certainly not. I am definitely not hung up on young girls. Believe me, Diana just happened along. I can explain……’ ‘Oh I’m sure you can,’ said Susan, blithely. ‘But I’d rather hear what plans you have for the weekend?’

So that is how it came about that the following Saturday, bright and early, or shall we say not all that bright and a damn sight earlier than I was wont to be about on weekends, I and my chariot headed off down to Newport Beach. All I could get out of Susan was that we were going boating and that I need only bring myself and a swim suit. She gave me explicit instructions where to park and how to find the boat, which turned out to be precise and idiot-proof! -- very necessary in that maze of car lots and boat masts down there. I arrived at the boat punctually to find a tall woman, perhaps in her mid-thirties, swabbing the deck. Her back was turned to me muscles rippled under a skin that had obviously spent many hours under the open skies. There was plenty of it on view because all she had on was the briefest of bikinis and it did not require any imagination at all to know that there would be no tan lines visible when this was removed! She had slender legs, slightly sinewy but, as they say, going all the way to the ground, long blonde hair and a trim behind. Obviously a lady who took care of herself, I remember observing in the instant before she turned around and, seeing me standing there, called out a greeting,

‘Ah! Ron! Perfect timing.’ The look on my face spoke volumes. ‘I see you recognize me,’ said this bronzed goddess with a broad smile. OhMiGod! Is what I thought, and it was all I could do to stammer out something about having seen her at an office party sometime. ‘Yes, probably,’ she said brightly, with a noticeable but not unpleasant accent, ‘though I have to admit I do not remember you.’ ‘Very understandable,’ I said dryly. ‘I don’t hold a very elevated position in the firm so there is no reason why we would be introduced.’ ‘Well lets get the introductions out of the way now, shall we. I’m Heidi. How do you do!’ And so saying she stretched out an elegant hand which I first shook in greeting and which then steadied me as I stepped from the dock onto the deck.

At that moment Susan emerged from the cabin. Well, I say this blithely -- it took me a moment or two to register that the gorgeous body in the yellow bikini that stood before me belonged to my supposedly staid carrier-woman boss! I could not help but stare at her, probably rudely, and then across at Heidi, and though nothing occurred between the two women that was in any way overt I sized up the situation immediately. Obviously some minor gesture betrayed me because Heidi laughed and said ‘He catches on quick, this one. I like him! Surprised, are you?’ I realized after a shocking moment she was speaking to me! ‘Well, er, not really,’ I managed to stammer out. ‘Of course I was puzzled by this whole thing.’ Heidi put her arm briefly, and a shade protectively around Susan’s shoulders. ‘Isn’t she adorable?’ she said to me. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll all have a whale of a time!’ She seemed to regard this as a joke, possibly because of the nautical connection, and laughed heartily. Susan looked just slightly embarrassed, and her smile at me reflected her nervousness. I understood that whatever was to happen on the boat, or wherever we were headed, was not her idea but Heidi’s. Susan’s hair was tied up at the back revealing the long nape of her neck. I discovered in her the importance of proportion. Everything about her was in it! Perfectly. Her face, her hair, her torso, the nape of her neck, her legs -- they all fitted together making a whole that was much, much more than the sum of the parts. She was indeed truly adorable, and I was having a hard time assimilating such a total transformation! ‘I see you found us all right’ Susan said, dryly. I managed to find my tongue. ‘No problem. Your directions were impeccable.’

Heidi reappeared. ‘Well come on then. Let’s get going. Get him in his suit – and it looks like we’re going to need a good bit of oil on him so he doesn’t fry’.

I sat on the side seat of the boat near the stern as Heidi guided it expertly through the maze and out into the open sea. It was a perfect day with a gentle breeze and only a light swell. As long as we were in view of people I felt rather self-conscious at the contrast between my white skin and the deep tans on the two women. But I made the best of it -- after all, which male would not have given his eye-teeth to swap places with me!?

It took about an hour for us to lose the traffic and the sight of land. I tried to relax, but I could sense Susan was nervous and this kept me on edge the whole time. Try as I would, I could not keep my eyes off her, which the perceptive Heidi had no difficulty noticing! ‘Well Susan,’ she said jokingly, ‘What do you think now about your theory that he wouldn’t like you?’ Susan looked at her pleadingly. ‘OK! I stop making jokes.’ Heidi looked about. ‘Time for action anyway.’ She cut the engine and the sudden silence and the rocking of the boat added to the sense of drama. ‘You’ve figured out, Ron, haven’t you, that Susan and I are, well, shall we say ‘connected’. Right?’ ‘Right!’ I said. ‘So that’s clear from the start. We have a deep, fulfilling and complete relationship, right Susan?’ Susan nodded, seeming still embarrassed. Heidi had now removed her bikini, revealing small firm breasts and a total absence of body hair. ‘And though we enjoy each other, we also enjoy other women,’ Heidi continued. ‘.. and men! Savvy?’ She was looking at me very directly. ‘Savvy!’ said I. ‘But we made a pact, which is to have sex with third parties only when we are together. Are you getting the drift?’ ‘I am!’ I swallowed hard. ‘And we found out that sharing other partners actually brings us closer together. We enjoy watching each other have sex with others. Does that shock you?’ ‘Not at all,’ I said, swallowing again. Heidi was the kind of person about whom one could believe anything. I glanced nervously at Susan, but she avoided my eye, looking instead in Heidi’s direction. She was still not entirely comfortable.

‘Now today is my birthday,’ said Heidi, ‘ and don’t ask me how many because I won’t tell you. But the point is that on special days Susan and I do things for each other. On her days she gets to choose, on my days I get to choose. Today is my day. And what I have chosen is for you to make love to Susan the way you made love to that girl in the video. We will take all the time we need – the weekend stretches out before us --- and I will direct. I always wanted to do movies! I want you to enjoy each other as completely and thoroughly as you can. And I will watch! And the more you enjoy each other the more I will enjoy watching. Later we may do some things together, but first I will direct and I will watch. Savvy?’