April in Paris and the Road Back to Montreux – Part 2

[Read Part 1, here]

The young lady finally arrives in my suite and immediately it was on. This girl knew what she wanted and as Rod Stewart used to say, “I was all over it like a cheap suit”. Clothes were flying off and when she got down to her panties, that’s when I had to sit back and admire the scenery.

Not only was she beautiful with a flawless body but also she had the most unique chain mail panties for lack of a better description. Thin little chains somehow delicately weaved into something like a thong… but different.  I had never seen anything like  them before or since for that matter, so I wanted to enjoy the moment, when there was not just a knock but what sounded like a SWAT team banging on the door and I’m thinking “oh not NOW!!”

Of course, it was all my mates and the Attractions bellowing, “Let us in you useless cunt!” Now in the old days with the Sex Police in the Rod Stewart Group I would have had no choice but to let them in but this was a whole new kettle of worms.  I didn’t really know these guys so I looked at her and she looked a bit frightened so I went to the door and said, “Maybe a little later guys’ which of course went over real good. Fuck ‘em. They kicked the door and bitched and moaned a while and finally left. I was not a popular boy that night. Oh well, sometimes one has to take one for the team. Fuck’em.

I get back to my girl and get her some wine, she’s cutting rails, and I start blasting some Jr. Walker from the stereo and the party’s on.  We start getting’ down to business and it turns out.. .how do I say this delicately? She was very LOUD… I mean like screaming bloody murder loud.

At first, I’m thinking she’s just fucking with my head but as things start heating up I realize this girl is the real deal. I must admit I was a bit of silly boy back then so after a decent warm up of some vigorous sport fucking… may I add, some very LOUD sport fucking, I started whispering sweet nothings in her ear, and then I’d say, “SAY IT” and she would a little shyly say it, and I’d then say “LOUDER!”….well, I think you can see where this is headed… no pun intended… within a brief amount of time I managed to have her screaming at the top of her lungs, “FUCK ME UP THE A%@! “ and other similar bon mots. 

I wish I could describe it better but it was just so much… how else can one put it…FUN. She was such a good sport and very athletic, probably around 22. I was thirty, fairly fit and played tennis all the time and had been having a good run of luck in Paris so my stamina was up and we just banged around that huge suite like a couple of crazed bunny rabbits all night long. And I do mean all over that suite: from the bedroom to the bath, to the foyer to the balcony, the bar.. .I remember singing “Shotgun ” as I was jumping off the bed one raucous moment and the floor kind of gave and all the furniture against the walls shook and it did strike me as odd that such a big hotel’s walls and floors would shake like that but we were in our own little world and… well, I guess I really wasn’t thinking of my neighbors… shame on us. There would be a price to pay.

The next morning we were just starting to come around, and I hear a tap at the door.

Padding over to the door in the nude I look through the peephole and see that it’s Annie Lennox!  I whisper to myself, “shit!” running back to put something on.

When I get back to the door there is no one there. I see across the foyer that Dave’s door is open a crack so I tip toe over and try and sneak a peek in the room. I see Dave and Annie in deep discussion on some couches and chairs on the far side of the room. I figure she just had the wrong room, so I slip back out and over to my room, order up some breakfast for me and my new best friend and try and get to know her better all over again.  God, it was an incredibly beautiful morning and my little Swiss Pastry and I were in our Grand Hotel robes enjoying the view from our balcony of Lake Geneva over tea and toast, when Dave Stewart bursts out onto the balcony in an identical robe. He was dancing like a maniac, singing at the top of his lungs, “There is nothing like a Dame!” He did go on a bit and I think it was starting freak my girl out a bit.

Finally, I said, “Dave! What the fuck?” Coming right up to my face and with a maniacal smile and his eyes bugging out and says, “I just had a very interesting chat with Annie. Guess who is staying in the suite below you?” Now he’s got my attention. I’m starting to get a funny feeling in my gut and I say, “Annie?” He’s still got this crazed smile on his face and is shaking his head, “No”… I look at him and say “Uh…..I dunno…” I can tell he is just loving this. After a dramatic pause he says quite deliberately, accenting every syllable, “ANN-IE’S MO-THER!”

Uh oh… I didn’t say much, I think I just made a face as if I’d just stubbed my toe really bad and waited for the rest. Apparently over breakfast that morning Annie was enjoying her mother’s company when she leans over and says rather conspiratorially as Dave describes it, and says, “I don’t know about that Jimmy Z.” and Annie said, “Whatever do you mean, mother?” Her mother says in that Scottish Brogue, “Well, I’m not sure…but I do believe Jimmy Z murdered somebody in his room last night! It was dreadful.”… and she meant it. I swear to you, honest to God that woman thought I’d killed someone in my room. 

I couldn’t help it, but I started chuckling and then laughing harder and harder until I fell on the balcony and Dave started running around singing, “There is nothing like a Dame,” again like a chicken with his head cut off and my girlfriend just looked at us like we were insane.

(photo courtesy eurythmics-ultimate.com)