The Motel Tapes

The motel is situated somewhere in the United States. The rooms are identical, with an oversized bed, a television set and a bathroom off to the side. In each room, there is a printed notice establishing the price--$19 for a double, $14 for a single.

The Last Swallow of Spring

Harold: I'm sorry. God, I'm sorry.

Spring: Don't be ridiculous. It's all right. It's perfectly all right.

Harold: No, it isn't. It really isn't. I couldn't stop. I mean it, there was no way to stop. There comes a time----

Spring: It's all right. You warned me. I could have pulled away. There was plenty of time--but the thing was, I didn't want to pull away. I love you. I love every part of you. It made me feel like I'm really a part of you.

Harold: So long's you know I didn't plan it out.

Spring: I do know. And it's all right. We used to do that a lot and I know you liked it. You must have wondered why I stopped. You must wonder----

Harold: C'mon, I don't wonder anything.

Spring: You must wonder something. You used to like that a lot.

Harold: Nah. Hey, let's not talk about this.

Spring: OK. I just want you to know that I'm glad it did happen. I still like the way you taste. Do you know how good you taste?

Harold: Let's talk about something else, if it's OK with you.

Spring: Sure; I just want to tell you one thing. What happened when I stopped, that had nothing to do with you. What happened was I read this article and it said that every time I swallowed you, I was taking in 100 calories, more or less.

Harold: Where'd you read that?

Spring: I was standing at the check-out. There was this woman in England someplace and she was on this practically starvation diet, you know, but she was gaining weight every week. The way it turned out, her doctor found out she was a prostitute and she was taking between 15 and 20 men a day that way. Swallowing it.

Harold: You're kidding!

Spring: No, the minute she stopped that, she was able to lose weight. In fact, she was losing weight at a terrific rate. You know what else they found out? She was losing so much weight because every time you ball, you know, ball the regular way, that eats up about 120 calories.

Harold: I'll bet she lost some customers.

Spring: The story didn't say. But I wouldn't be surprised. Anyway, that's the reason I don't swallow it anymore--I mean, you save the 100 calories and then you burn up 120 more. So every time we make love the regular way, I'm ahead by 220 calories. I figure I earn a chocolate sundae.

Harold: What we ought to do, then, is ball the regular way. That way, you'd be ahead of the game by, oh----

Spring: Eighty calories. One medium-sized baked potato----

Harold: A guy going out with you, he's got to bring along an adding machine.

A Penny for your Thoughts

Holly: I'd love to know what you're thinking.

Earl: Is that why you're staring at me?

Holly: Am I staring at you?

Earl: You've been staring at me ever since we got here. Whenever I look over at you, I see you studying me like a cat watching a mouse.

Holly: I'm just trying to figure out what you're thinking. It's not easy.

Earl: Sure it is. You want to know what I'm thinking, you just have to ask me. OK. I'll tell you every single thought, just as it comes to me. Right now, I'm thinking how silly this is. And I'm thinking ... how much I love kissing your neck. And I'm thinking ... how beautiful you are just lying there, not moving a muscle. And I'm thinking ... how I love it every time you touch me. Oh, yeah, especially there. And I'm thinking ... oh, I'm thinking how good that feels. And how good it will be, how good it is when you're all wet ... and ready for me, and how all I have to do is lean up and ... be inside of you and how good that feels. Oh. And how I love to rock back and forth, inside and outside and inside and outside. No, don't stop. And I'm thinking ... how I never knew a feeling anything like this before and never will again. And I'm wondering ... what's going on in your mind. And I'm wondering if I could kiss both of your breasts at the same time I'm making love.

And I'm thinking how much I'd love to lick you. And I'm thinking ... how good you taste.

•

Holly: Sometime I'd like to know what you're really thinking.

Strange Bedfellows

Brenda: This is astounding to me. It's like we've been together all our lives.

James: You like?

Brenda: Just don't stop. Carry me along with you.

James: Oh. Oh, yeah!

Brenda: You fit so good.

James: Aaahhhhhh--oh.

Brenda: I can't get over the way you fit. Hard. Oh, harder. Hard! Oh, come, baby, come now. Come with me. Come!

•

Brenda: Are you asleep?

James: Just resting. Just building up my strength.

Brenda: Good. You do that. Because I'm going to take some more of your strength away. When you're ready. God, I never would have guessed it would work out this well. Do you mind my talking? I didn't know what to expect, whether you'd be as super as you look or just another, you know. I don't think I've ever had feelings like this before, Jim.

James: Me, either.

Brenda: The way you fit me. I mean that. I never had the feeling that someone could fill me up the way you fill me up.

James: One size fits all.

Brenda: Hoo, you're such a funny-bunny.

James: You're a surprise to me, too. You're the first person I ever met at a bar who was worth a second look. Most times I can't even manufacture a fast hello. It's never worked out like this before. Not once. I've never ever been able to hit it off with a girl like you.

Brenda: Oh? What's a girl like me like?

James: You know, a girl who looks like you. You're very beautiful. I mean that, very beautiful.

Brenda: What kind of girls do you usually hit it off with? Ugly ones?

James: That's not the point. Actually. Most of the girls I meet, they still think you ought to get married before doing this.

Brenda: Jim, can I ask you something? Do you happen to be rich?

James: Not really. Not rich. More like upper-middle class.

Brenda: All that talk about George Wallace, that was your sense of humor, right?

James: I didn't know I said anything funny.

Brenda: Well, even calling George Wallace a great American....

James: That seems funny to you?

Brenda: Well, yes and no. The thing is, I guess I've never really heard anyone speak of George Wallace in flattering terms before.

James: I guess we know different people.

Brenda: You mean you weren't kidding about him?

James: No.

Brenda: You really think this country'd be better off if he had been elected President?

James: I don't think we're going to agree on politics. My feeling is that this country may not deserve a Wallace. In point of fact, I'd prefer a Reagan--but I know the futility of that.

Brenda: I can't figure out how much of what you're saying is a put-on. I get the feeling you're trying to bait me.

James: What's this?

Brenda: An operation. I had a torn cartilage. Skiing. I just can't believe you're serious. If you're telling me the truth, you're a real right-winger. I can't believe that.

James: What can't you believe?

Brenda: Among other things, I can't believe a right-winger'd ball so beautifully.

James: Are you under the impression that political conservatives reproduce by some other method?

Brenda: I always wondered.

James: Well, you just have to ask.

Brenda: Whoa--not so fast.

James: What's the matter?

Brenda: I know this is weird, but it's just that I never balled with a conservative before. I can't help it, but it makes me uneasy.

The Fan

Kenneth: Yeah, right, and look, do me a favor, when you make out the bill, just make it for a single. Right. Just for "Mr. Kenneth Jackson." No "Mrs." You've got it. The company only covers a single. Yeah, any way you like. Thank you.

•

Irma: You know, Kenny, sometimes I wish there was no such thing as an expense account. We'd never have a roof over our heads.

Kenneth: What kind of talk is that? That doesn't sound like you.

Irma: Who does it sound like, then?

Kenneth: I thought we had a good time tonight. I'm sure we had a good time. My head is killing me.

Irma: Yeah, we had a good time, all right. You must have collected a dozen different receipts.

Kenneth: I don't think that's called for. At all. If the company insists on paying my expenses, well, so what? And if the income-tax people want receipts, hell's bells, I'll give 'em receipts.

Irma: I s'pose. What time does the game start?

Kenneth: Why're you starting in on that now?

Irma: I was just asking is all--can't a girl even ask a question around here?

Kenneth: You've got me all wrong.

Irma: Whatever you say, Kenny.

Kenneth: You've really got one hell of an image of me. You think the only reason we eat dinner is because the company pays for it and the only reason we're here is to watch a basketball game.

Irma: I'm not saying that's the only reason we're here. I'm saying that what you're maybe doing is killing two birds with one stone. Me and a basketball game, both in color.

Kenneth: That's a crock. That's a real crock.

Irma: Very nice, Kenny.

Kenneth: You think I'm faking? I don't know what the hell you want----

Irma: I don't know what else, either, Kenny. The only thing I know for sure is that in a while we're going to be watching a play-off game.

Kenneth: If you say so.

Irma: If I say so? I hate basketball. But maybe I shouldn't hate basketball. If it weren't for basketball, I'd never see you. Basketball and tax deductions and expense accounts....

Kenneth: So I'm a fan. I don't know why that should bother you. I could have a lot worse habits.

Irma: Kenny, I wouldn't mind at all. I'm telling you, if you just made love to me, plain and simple, then turned on the game, we'd have no trouble at all. But it's all the other stuff--"Let me see, are the Robins playing tonight?"--that drives me insane. All the pretending. The way it is now, I get the feeling that you can't wait for the game to start. You make love to me like they're going to give a trophy to the first one across the finish line.

Kenneth: You're kidding me. The game happens to have begun a long time ago.

Irma: That explains why you keep looking over at the set. Turn it on. You're dying to.

Kenneth: You know something, I wasn't even thinking about the game until you brought it up.

Irma: Turn it on.

Kenneth: OK. So long's the game's on anyway, why not? I'll keep the sound down low.

Irma: Please, Kenny, just turn it on. Spare me all this play-by-play.

Kenneth: OK. But I'm just turning it on because you reminded me of it. The only reason I'm turning on the game is because of you.

Irma: Yeah. I'll tell you something; I really shouldn't mind. Back there when it looked like the Robins weren't going to get into the play-offs, I was really scared. I thought I might never see you again. The way I look at it, when the Robins have a good year, I have a good year.

Television Voice: Francis takes the ball from Dawkins--it's his second steal (continued on page 184)Motel Tapes(continued from page 96) of the night--Francis is in the far corner, a 20-foot jumper. Yes! That brings the Robins within three points of....

The Last Formerly Faithful Wife Left on Earth

Wendy: It's a long story.

Terry: You're tolling me it's a long story. Believe me, I know it's a long story.

Wendy: I know.

Terry: I was around at the beginning.

Wendy: I know yon were.

Terry: I gave up on you long ago. I wrote you off. I figured you for the last completely faithful wife left on earth.

Wendy: The last formerly faithful wife left on earth.

Terry: The last whatever. The last of a kind. From the beginning, I had only eyes for you. Even when I was living with someone else, I'd be thinking about you--but I'd written you off completely. I'm kind of glad I was wrong, you know? You're so quiet. Is something wrong?

Wendy: Nothing's wrong. I feel good for the first lime in, I don't know months. It's been months since anyone's touched me.

Terry: Something's the matter with Peter, isn't it?

Wendy: I don't even want to talk about it. It's going to sound crazy, but I think he's seriously going crazy. If it's not actually crazy, it's a pretty good imitation. He even went to a shrink there for a while, but it didn't last. I don't know what happened. He just stopped going. He doesn't tell me anything.

Terry: He seems kind of quiet.

Wendy: Yeah, you could say that. He's so quiet that it gets spooky. He's got this crazy idea about me and it's eating him alive. It's what's making him spooky.

Terry: What idea?

Wendy: It'll make you laugh. He thinks I'm the greatest lover who ever lived. He thinks my life is a round of wild parties. He thinks the office is just a cleverly disguised bordello and I'm the featured attraction. He thinks there are whole platoons of sex-crazed men waiting to ambush me. If he calls the office and he hears I'm out for a cup of coffee, he thinks I'm off with one of the executives and we've just taken the bridal suite somewhere. I knew you'd laugh.

Terry: I'm sorry. Give me a minute. You're really the straightest person I've ever known.

Wendy: That's the funny side to all this. In our entire married life, there was only one incident. I came home from an office Christmas party a little late. Maybe two hours late. Nothing happened. Nothing at all happened, but Peter was never the same after that.

Terry: That was the start?

Wendy: That was the first I knew about it, anyway. Things were never the same. Once he even had me followed. I didn't know about it until after, until he told me. He said, "You must've known I was having you followed--because you went a whole week without sex." I'm always finding him looking through my purse. I don't even know what he expects to find there. Pictures of all my lovers, maybe. I don't know. What would a philandering wife keep in her purse?

Terry: A diaphragm, maybe. I don't know.

Wendy: I guess so. Anyway, he expected to find something incriminating. But he never has. Because there hasn't been anything. You know me, Mrs. Clean. But that doesn't help. Peter has never let the truth interfere with his fantasies about me. Like--I could tell you stories you'd never believe.

Terry: Like what?

Wendy: Like last year, when we were having that two-day meeting over in Carleton. All the executives getting together for that encounter session. I was there, keeping the minutes.

Terry: I wondered what that was all about.

Wendy: The way it turned out, it was just a chance for some of the boys to get some gripes off their chest. The second night, everyone was sitting at dinner, all the executives, a dozen of them and me and our beloved leader, and over on the other side of the dining room, I suddenly see Peter. Staring at me.

Terry: What'd he say?

Wendy: The minute I saw him, he got up and ran out of the room. You'd figure him to be embarrassed that I would catch him spying on me. Far from it. Later, he showed up outside my room and started hollering that he knew I had someone in there. I opened the door and let him in--I didn't know what I could possibly say to him, and then he said, "What'd you do with your lover?"

Terry: He's a pretty sad case.

Wendy: Very sad. There were dozens of times like that. I never did anything and he figured I was carrying on like some rabbit. Finally, there came a time when we had to stop going to the neighborhood parties. If we were at a party and he saw me talking to another man, an old friend, even, then he'd come over and get very abusive.

Terry: You're talking about a real sickness. It seems to me, you're taking an awful chance just being here today.

Wendy: Oh, I expect him to find out about this.

Terry: How?

Wendy: Who knows? For all I know, he's out in the parking lot right this moment. It wouldn't surprise me in the least.

Terry: You don't seem particularly worried.

Wendy: I'm really not. I'm looking forward to it. At first, I figured as long as I was being blamed for it, anyway, you know ... and then I got to thinking about it and what is wrong with Peter is that he's fighting ghosts, his own fantasies. I think he'll be better off handling reality than fantasy. At least that's what I'm counting on.

Terry: It's crazy. It's really crazy, but it makes sense.

The whole ball of String

Naomi: Hal, are you sure you know what you're doing?

Hal: What's to know? There's nothing so complicated about any of this. That's not too tight, is it?

Naomi: Hal, where'd you get this stuff?

Hal: Most of it at Franklin's.

Naomi: No, this stuff. This stuff of tying me up.

Hal: It's all in the book. Does it really bother you? Look, if it bothers you, you don't have to go along with any of it. Move your arm this way. Is it really bothering you?

Naomi: I want to do whatever turns you on.

Hal: This'll work both ways.

Naomi: If my father could see us now, he'd kill us both.

Hal: Yeah, your old man's been into this kind of stuff for years. You just have to look at him.

Naomi: Sure he has. Sure Mom would let him tie her up; sure she'd really go along with something like this. Have you got it right yet?

Hal: Try to get out. You're in my power. Open your mouth.

Naomi: What's that? Don't you dare. Hal, you're really turning into some kind of--what kind of rag is that?

Hal: It's not a rag. It's a brand-new handkerchief. Come on, we've gone this far, let's not chicken out now. The gag's not going to hurt you. No one's going to get hurt around here. And there's a signal if something goes wrong.

Naomi: What's going wrong? What do you mean by that?

Hal: Nothing's going to go wrong. Nothing. It's just in case. The book says you need a signal. It says you're supposed to grunt.

Naomi: Hal, you've got some book there. So far, this is not my idea of a good time. I don't really see what the point of any of this is.

Hal: You will, you will. You're going to like this. Now, listen, this is important. If anything goes wrong, you're supposed to grunt out a tune. Shave and a Haircut, Two Bits. Do you know that one? Like this: Mmmmmmm-and-a-mmmmmmm-mmmmmmm, mmm-mmm.

Naomi: Hal, do me one favor. The first time, let's do it without the gag. I'm in your power. Look at me. You can do anything you want to me.

Hal: The gag is part of the whole thing. Don't worry about it. Just ignore it. All you've got to do is go, Mmmmmmm-and-a-mmmmmmm-mmmmmmm, mmm-mmm. Whenever you do that, that very minute I'll take the gag off immediately.

Naomi: Hal, I really want you to be happy.

Hal: Yeah?

Naomi: But this is a little weird, you know?

Hal: I'm sure it seems a lot weirder than it really is. According to the book, a lot of people are into this stuff. In some circles, it's not even considered kinky anymore. The book says that anything two people decide to do of their own free will should not be considered kinky.

Naomi: I wonder what kind of a pervert wrote that book.

•

Naomi: Hal, I've got to tell you. This is silly. I feel ridiculous. This is supposed to be sexy? I feel about as sexy as a big ball of string.

Hal: That's what you look like, a big ball of string.

Naomi: That tickles. Hal, really, that's just tickling me.

Hal: Of course it tickles. Tickey-tickey-tick.

Naomi: This whole thing is crazy. You're crazy. I can't even move.

Hal: That's the whole idea.

Naomi: Whose whole idea? I thought you liked it when I moved.

Hal: I'm going to put the gag on now. We're just going to try it that way. For a little while. Is that too tight? Ha, this is not bad. You want to know something? This is a decided improvement. Now, do you want to know what I'm going to do to you? I'm going to fuck you the way----

Naomi: Mmmmmmmmm.

Hal: Oh, sure, I'll bet you'd like me to take it off. Well, forget it. Yeah, sure, fight it. Fight me! Right; try to put up a fight, you big ball of string!

Naomi: Mmmmmmmmm.

Hal: Oh, yeah, you love it, don't you? You love having a stranger come in and play with your titties. You love it, don't you? Speak up; I can't hear a word you're saying. Oh, you love this, don't you?

Naomi: Mmmmmmm-mmm-mmmmmm-mmmmmmm, mmm-mmm.

•

Hal: What's the matter?

Naomi: Nothing.

Hal: Why'd you do that? You were liking it.

Naomi: I think the rope cut off my circulation. My wrists are killing me. I want you to untie the rope right now.

Hal: Let me loosen it.

Naomi: Hal, take it off. Untie me. I've been thinking it over and I've decided I like it just fine the old-fashioned way. This business of tickling me and cutting my wrists does nothing for me and never will.

Hal: Can't we just give it some time?

Naomi: Untie me. Now.

•

Naomi: Every time you pick up that book, I get a bad feeling. What're you reading now?

Hal: I know it won't interest you, but the next chapter is really something. It's about beating.

Naomi: Oh, that sounds like fun. I haven't had a really satisfying beating in ever so long.

Hal: It's not a real beating beating. It says you start hitting your partner lightly, once every few seconds, and then you gradually increase the force.

Naomi: Mmmmmmm-and-a-mmmmmm-mmmmmmm, mmm-mmm.

Sweet Talker

Georgia: Give me your cock. Give me your big cock.

Erwin: Fuck me.

Georgia: I want to suck your cock. I want to suck your cock until your brains come out.

Erwin: Not today, you bitch. Just fuck me.

Georgia: I want to lick that big cock of yours.

Erwin: Just cut the shit and fuck me--put that cock in your cunt and fuck my brains out.

Georgia: Let me ride your cock. Oh, that's such a big cock.

Erwin: Fuck me, you cunt. You cock-sucking cunt. Fuck me, cunt. Fuck my brains out.

Georgia: That's right, big boy, stick it up me, stick your cock up me.

Erwin: Turn over, you bitch. Turn over, whore.

Georgia: Beg me.

Erwin: Fuck me, fuck me. Oh, you cunt! Bitch! Whore!

Georgia: Fuck me! Fuck me ... cock ... your big cock. Oh, shit, oh, God.

•

Georgia: Oh, my dearest, I love you so.

Erwin: I love you, too.