Spectacle

It was midday as the two men sat at the bar looking through the window across the rough cobblestone square. Although the sun was hidden in the clouds it was still bright outside and even through the heavily tinted glass of the windows, the men could see all that was happening. There was a group of people gathered around a large flatbed truck with a cage like structure on the bed. Although the men in the bar could only see the bright orange and red roof of the cage they knew what was behind the white bars, they had passed it on their way to the bar.

"I tell you Joe, it's simply spectacle, that's all," the short man said, his gray hair dangling down over his forehead, hanging over his eyes. He ran a hand through the hair, pulling it from his eyes to look up at the bartender. Nodding, he silently ordered another beer and then looked back at his friend, "Spectacle, nothing more."

"You're wrong Lange, yeah, it's not what it used to be, it's gotten gaudy, commercial, maybe a bit obscene, but it's more than spectacle, it's political or at least artistic."

"Artistic? Come on, I mean did you see it? Just look at the cage, the orange and red, with glossy white bars, I mean it's a circus act now."

"They just can't afford to use the anodized aluminum and double paned glass front. It just doesn't attract. The people, they don't, or they can't pay as much attention as they once did."

"They don't care anymore, I mean look out there, look at those kids over there, laughing and joking, mocking the whole thing."

"Just a bunch of college kids who don't understand the significance of it all. It's because they're in a group, showing off. I bet if it was just one or two they'd watch, they might even understand," Joe said, reaching up and scratching the rough spot on his bald head. "Look, look over there, at the back of a crowd," he pointed.

"By the light pole?"

"Yeah, look how she is moving, she understands."

Cupping his beer between his hands Lange leaned toward the window and watched the woman as she moved in the distance. "Yes, look at her hand, it... it..."

"...hidden by her jacket, but you can tell, just look at the way her hips are moving back and forth. Oh yes, slow and gentle, just like..."

"Damn, I didn't think they still..."

"She's young too, maybe mid-twenties. The older ones remember how it used to be, but this one, look how intently she is looking at the cage. I'll bet she is matching his rhythm, her finger diddling her clit as the guy strokes himself."

"Do you remember, Joe?"

"Yeah, there were times it was like a great dance, everyone moving in unison until it all fell apart in one giant simultaneous orgasm."

"Back then it was real, it was dissent, it was art, politics, not this circus sex."

"But you miss the point, look at her, watch her move."

"Moving quicker now and yet no one has really noticed what she is doing."

"She is good, but look at the way she stands, her legs wide apart. Damn, her finger's plunging up into her wet pussy now, I just know it. She's gonna come soon, I just know it."

"Joe, did you ever..."

"What? You mean in the cage?"

Lange nodded.

"No, I was always too private, never really artistic or political. Besides I never had the stamina, I mean how long has that one," he nodded toward the scene outside the window, "been at it?"

"Going on six, maybe seven hours, yeah seeing as they come at least once an hour, that's got to be impressive. I tried it once."

"You, in the cage? Lange, I never figured you'd ever try it, I mean you're a popular guy, but..."

"Aw, it was when I was a lot younger and for me it was more about the sex than anything artistic. It was for some minor office..."

"But you actually got into the cage and did it?"

"It was easier back then, I mean the people were with you, not of that heckling. You know the woman there by the light pole," they both looked and sat silently for a few minutes watching her move. Her movement wasn't subdued like before, there was no question now that she was masturbating in unison with the man in the cage.

They watched her pump her hips back and forth. She had tossed her jacket onto the ground and it was obvious one of her hands was slipping into the front of her pants and the other hand was in her blouse as she toyed with her breasts. Joe and Lange both sipped their beer and watched as the woman's movements got more and more frantic until, she suddenly relaxed, slumping against the light pole, pulling her hand out from between her legs and wiping it on her pants. She rested like that for a few moments watching the man in the cage and then, as the excitement around the cage subsided some, she fixed her clothes, reached down, grabbed her coat and slowly strolled out of the square.

"Back when I did it, there were dozens of women like that, just watching them was enough to get me going over and over again. The guys would do it too, but watching the women, that was inspiring."

"How many times did you come?"

"Well, that was another story. I did pretty good I thought, but only lasted about five hours."

"Hell, five times in as many hours, that's pretty spectacular."

"I thought so, but after I cleaned up and left the cage Drew Henson took his turn."

"You mean Governor Henson?"

"Yeah, he wasn't a Governor back then, it was just the start of his rise to power. He was young back then and after my five hours, he filed in there and jacked off for nine, maybe ten hours. Hell it was like clockwork, he'd lounge around, gently toying with his soft cock for about 45 minutes, watching the crowd engage in their games and then, like some magnificent porn star, he'd suddenly get hard and begin stroking.

"And he was a real artist, first his right hand would ease up the shaft and roll luxuriously over the head, and then his left hand would swoop over his balls and slip up the shaft. Soon he was working both hands over it and in just a few minutes, wham, he was spurting his white cum in magnificent arcs across the cage and sometimes out into the crowd. Oh the women loved it, like Elvis tossing his sweat covered towels into the audience, he was coming out over the women and they went wild.

"You know for me, after about the second time I could barely get my cum to dribble out and here he is spraying the crowd with a fire hose, even after already coming maybe six or seven times that day. I could never compete with that."

"Still Lange, five hours, I'm impressed. Hell, I try it twice in a day and it's rubbed raw."

"Oh damn, yeah I could hardly walk after that. It was a good week before I could even think about sex again. Look up at the cage, the hour is up and he's hanging in for another run."

"He's a real pro I tell you," Joe said, gulping down the last of his beer. He reached into his wallet and grabbed a five dollar bill, tossing it onto the bar. He paused as Lange did the same and then both waved to the bartender and they headed out of the bar.

Walking slowly on the rough cobblestone, the two men headed over toward the big truck with the gaudy cage on the back. As they got closer they could see a thin man with a beady look in his eyes as he slowly ran his hand over his cock and balls. On one side of the crowd there were people holding signs shouting something like, "WMD? Just look and see," over and over again.

Looking back up at the man they noticed a large, shiny pendant hung from a silver chain. It was a large, diamond studded letter "W." Joe and Lange paused a moment and looked at the man as he almost angrily teased and stroked his cock. The man began to drool as his cock hardened, soon standing firm and tall like some ominous missile.

"Come on Joe, something tells me this is not going to be pretty," Lange said, tugging at Joe's arm as he began to work his way back through the crowd. Fighting against the surge of people, they finally were able to pull free from the crowd. They continued moving away, heading for the back alley where they had parked. Just as they reached the outer perimeter of the square they both turned and looked back.

Reaching into his pocket to grab his car keys, Joe said, "Hell of a way to choose a President."

"Yeah, I can't argue with that," Lange replied, shaking his head in disgust. He then looked over to Joe and asked, "Happy hour tomorrow?"

"How can I say no, I'd miss all this?"

Heading to his car Lange moaned, "Such a spectacle."

"Well that's politics," Joe replied, unlocking his car.