I have a fair number of pals around town, boyfriends sans sex. It always begins the same way. A guy hits on me, very politely, and I accept the initial proposition, which is never sex. So, we go to dinner, Bay Street Theater, the beach, Sunday afternoon cruise in his boat. When he puts the moves on, I put on the brakes, but in the friendliest way.
Most stay around, so I keep getting invitations that get me out of the house and away from the laptop. That's the imperative. Else my mind senesces in my skull.
So...an early 40's divorced guy, options trader in New York, mostly weekender in the Hamptons, invites me to a meeting of his paddle boarding club—I almost wrote "water boarding."
Paddle boarding? Well, he is a jock. Built, tanned most of the year, blond good looks, very active. Also, an upmarket stalker. He belongs to the paddle boarding club because who else belongs? Mostly female, mostly in shape, mostly youngish, mostly in bikinis—at least when they paddle board.
But not at this meeting at the home of Paddle Board Queen, Tammy Wright, not only organizer of the club but with a part-time business giving paddle-board lessons. Part-time meaning summer, of course.
I accept Antonio's invitation to attend a meeting, then dinner, for no good reason. Not to become a paddle boarder. But I do know Tammy, slightly. It weans me from my laptop, my teeth pried open to release the overworked tit.
I know Tammy from around town. She's what we call a "character." Went to the local high school, knows everyone, and has a reputation. For a big mouth about sex, ample dirty talk and jokes, and au currant slut-wear.
She's not bad looking. A little heavy, roundish face, but cute with curly black hair, full lips, tilted nose, and nice brown eyes that glitter with narcissistic craving for attention. When the weather permits, she wears halters with straps: twin bags for the melons still high on her chest. Belly bare, when possible, and shorts. Again, legs on the heavy side, but shapely, and she usually she wears heels to streamline them. I bet you know the type.
She talks the way she looks, which I guess girls don't mind and guys like. And sometimes she wears T-shirts with an off-color comment blazoned over her tight boobs. You know, "I'm coming already!" or "Free the E.H. Two!"
Her reputation, frankly, is as a "cock teaser," and generally I don't call women that. She seems to lust for attention but not for lust.
So, Tony and I are at the meeting in her living room. As promised, the wine is good. There are eight of us. The other five are three girls and two guys who live up to the paddle-boarding image. Late 30's, early 40's, fit, but mostly carrying weight that would be nice to lose. I'm the only one who looks as though she urgently needs to gain.
From the start, Tammy's mouth is going. "Hey, did you know the club's going nude this summer?" (It isn't.) "My boobs can't wait for June." And so on. Tony keeps glancing at me with a smile that somehow looks a little dangerous. Or maybe I am reading that in only in retrospect.
Meeting comes to order. Tammy acts not only as president, but, apparently, treasurer. The club needs a truck. Carry paddle boards, life jackets, lunch, and other stuff. So, we have to raise some funds.
I'm wondering, since Tammy's business is paddle-board lessons, and is drawing a nice clientele, how the truck is really going to be used. I mean, there appear to be only seven members of the club (I'm an observer).
Funds for a new truck would be nice, but a used truck donated by a dealership or a private individual would be fine. I'm wondering what this little group is supposed to do. I'm also aware that Tony makes lots of money with options trading, has a spectacular house, several cars, and moves in money circles in the Hamptons.
But, as a genuine alpha male, permanently in heat, he roams far and wide. As far as I know, no one else in this group has a few thousand extra for a good cause like Tammy's Truck.
Talk mostly from Tammy, about "organizing ourselves" and "reaching out." Desultory suggestions from members. Getting pretty boring. Tony has said nothing, but people are glancing at him. Great opportunity to be a hero. This little skit by Tammy seems to be intended to put pressure on him since everyone knows he's got the money.
And then... An absolutely classic Tammy statement. She sighs, heaving her massive brown décolletage, and says, "Well, I don't know how many blow jobs I'm going to have to give, but I will raise this money by summer!" She looks up smiling, cheeks slightly pink. And each man in the room, I assume, indulges a little fantasy about Tammy's brown eyes gazing up from below..
A few polite giggles.
A guy asks, "Should we spread the word, Tammy?"
Not sure how the girls are reacting.
And then, Tony says, helpfully, "I suppose it depends how much you charge for each one."
Tammy likes the banter. Keeps her at the center of attention. She asks, "What do you think I could get?"
"For a good cause," says Tony thoughtfully, "and considering professional competition around town, and since you are a fresh face..."
"Toni understands markets!" a guy calls out.
A girl says, sounding annoyed, "Let's not take the joke too far, all right? It's demeaning to women." Been listening to too much CNN.
Tony is not deterred. He says: "And assuming you aren't withholding..."
"And that means what?" asked Tammy.
"You know, you do it nude. Give touching privileges. Make it nice and..."
"All right shut up!" says the same girl. "Not funny,"
Tony does not shut up. Not used to taking orders from secretaries.
In fact, Tammy says, "No, I want to hear this." She doesn't sound like her usual sprightly self, though.
"Maybe a thousand bucks," Tony says thoughtfully. He adds, "Assuming this guy is a gentleman and understands he is getting a one-time special from a classy girl."
"Better make a date, right now," quips one of the guys.
"Yeah..." says Tammy slowly, very off balance at this moment.
"Nope," says Tony, "offer is good right now, here."
"I'm fucking leaving," protests the same girl and stands up.
Tony says, "And only if everyone is here to watch. This is a club thing, right? Tammy shouldn't be in this alone."
"Can you shut the fuck up, Tony," says a guy. "You're carrying this much too far."
Tony nods. "Sure. Sorry."
"No," says Tammy. "You're serious about a thousand? You have your checkbook?"
Now I get it. This is being videotaped for one of those "impossible moments" shows. Tony brought me along to watch the fun. Someone is about to pop out and say, "Guess what? You're all being filmed!"
Tony has not replied. He has "shut the fuck up."
Not Tammy, and I suddenly think I get it. All that cock teasing and dirty talk. Exhibitionist. Look at me! Now, Tony has proposed the ultimate, all-time exhibitionist's wet dream. I wonder if Tammy is getting wet. She says, "Are you? Serious, I mean?"
"For you, Tammy? For the club? For the cause? Let's call it fifteen hundred."
He adds. "If no one leaves."
"Right," says Tammy firmly. She looks around the room, frowning, nodding...