by Lilie Berlin
(05/19/04)
It was a slow evening at Pension de L'amour. Nestled in the French occupied area of Budapest, our services and the sultry crimson décor catered to the lusts and budgets of homesick French or English officers. In 1920, we were still recovering from the aftermath of one war, completely unaware of the next, looming ominously in our future.
Madam Pascale's harem of expertly trained professionals chatted, primped, and bickered from the soft chaises and silk pillows in the lounge as they waited for customers to arrive. Her favored money makers relaxed upon the most comfortable seats and in the best lingerie. Those considered less desirable or profitable were positioned on the floor and further back against the wall. Then there was me, stuck on the staircase, reading a book.
I was initially hired as a housemaid, assigned to laundry, mending, and post-encounter clean-up. When it was discovered I had special talents, my duties were extended to entertainment. It may have been a degrading job, but it was better than where Madame Pascale found me; on the streets, taking anything and everything between my legs just to stay alive.
A low rumble of commotion in the lounge compelled me to put on my glasses and look down through the iron bars of the banister.
Madame Pascale was already at the visitor's side, cooing and brushing snowflakes from his shoulders, "Monsieur, welcome."
He was stunning, with the handsome, dark features classic of Eastern Europeans. A composed, professional demeanor and elegant attire promised a lucrative evening. I sighed with disappointment, but continued to watch to see who would be the lucky recipient of his affections.
Madame Pascale gushed and directed his attention to the exceptional assortment of flesh, beauty, and carnal pleasure. His gaze surveyed the room unfocused until it drifted up the staircase and fell upon me. Thick eyebrows wrinkled in consideration and sent spider-fingers of nervous excitement scurrying across my skin. Madame Pascale clucked like a dove, her saggy double chin jiggling with each word until he interrupted her,
"I want her."
Rosy features crumpled with displeasure when she saw he meant me.
"Why Monsieur, perhaps for a gentleman of unusual taste --"
"I can always take my business elsewhere."
"Please, let me explain --"
He shot her a look that sliced through her resistance like a razor and she surrendered with a grumble.
Details of the arrangement were discussed in hushed voices on their way up the stairs. My hand was clammy when I finally reached out to greet him and claim my fortune.
"Ilona, to the master bath," announced Madame Pascale and we followed her wide, swaying hips down the hall.
"You have beautiful eyes." Kelemen said once we were alone.
I was too captivated to respond. I felt so decadent within the elegant, dark purple walls of the master bath. Before, I had only gained entrance with a mop and bucket, never with the privilege of actually using it.
"Why is a nice girl like you working in a place like this?"
"It's not so bad." I idled in the middle of the exclusive room, an unexpected setting. "It beats other things."
"I understand more than you know." He handed me a bottle of bath oil from the vanity. "Use this."
"What would you like me to do with it?"
"Take a bath, as you would alone. Pretend I'm not here."
"Will you join me?"
He shook his head, but smiled, "No, I'll just watch." Long fingers removed my glasses, instantly blurring my vision. "Are you nearsighted? You won't be needing these."
Under the dim, yellow glow of the chandelier, his shadowy frame crossed the room and disappeared into a dark corner.
"Go ahead, Ilona."
Under the watchful eyes of my companion, undressing was a performance, the revelation of each new curve carefully deliberated. I exposed one shoulder, then another, before letting gravity pull my dress to the floor. Naked at the mirror, I tended to my hair with a brush from the vanity, smoothing the strands with leisurely strokes.
Leaning through the steam rising from the bathtub to add the Gardenia-scented bath oil, I arched my back to present a view of the glistening crevasse between my legs. A sigh escaped from the other side of the room, slipping through the darkness, halting my own breath, fanning a flame that was spreading and burning my composure. It melted completely as I submerged my body into the bath and I caught an unmistakable sound- a zipper being lowered.
I rested my head against the back of the tub and drenched my breasts with warm water from a coral sponge, aiming the stream at my hardened nipples. All I could see out of the corner of my eye was a dark, blurred figure and a flurry of activity just below the waist. Anticipation knotted in my pelvis, gaining force, tightening unbearably. He was masturbating to me, and I didn't see a reason not to join him, it is what I would do if I was alone, so I slid my hand between my legs and flicked the swollen nub to encourage a climax.
"Oh yes, lovely." He choked.
I wanted so badly for him to touch me! This yearning and the strange eroticism of his secluded observation overwhelmed me and I exploded, my body jolting from the charge and sending water over the edge and onto the floor. New waves of warmth leaked between my legs and I cupped the lips, still fluttering through the conclusion of my orgasm. My panting breaths subsided enough for me to listen quietly for his resolution.
"Ah, ah!" The moans pitched with each cycle of spasm that pushed his relief out the tip of his penis, landing on the floor with a liquid splat. My eyes remained closed until he finished and rose from his seat. I could see his hazy figure kneeling down, wiping the mess with a handkerchief. The gesture touched me, it would be one less thing I would have to do later.
"That was beautiful, thank you." Standing at the side of the tub, he retrieved my glasses from his pocket. His face, his beautiful face, came into focus when he leaned down. Every little kiss upon my eyelids, the tip of my nose, and my mouth deposited new seeds of want and affection for this mysterious, gentle guest. I reached for his lapel to pull him closer.
"I have to get back to work."
My glasses brought the world back into focus and I watched him disappear through the door.
I hugged the side of the tub and sulked. His tenderness hurt more than the brash nastiness of most men I entertained, drooling, ogling idiots with beer breath and sweat-stained armpits. I drifted in the memory of the last half hour, but when I saw a creamy, liquid trail at the base of the tub, I woke from my daydream with a start.
Had I missed it earlier that day? I was always so thorough, either that or have Madame Pascale on my case. Was it his? He had been a good three meters away! I reached down to the little puddle.
It was still warm.
My shoes knocked against the cobblestones as I ran through the city. But all I could hear were the echoes of what Anna had said after I returned downstairs,
"Do you know who that was? I saw him at the circus. He's the man with the biggest penis in the world! What did you two freaks do up there?"
Lack of interest and funds had previously prevented me from visiting the traveling circus. Now I had a purpose, and it carried me across the bridge and toward the distant harbor lights of The Danube, twinkling with promise.
On the carnival grounds, I weaved through silly clowns in orange wigs, trapeze artists swathed in leotards, stilt walkers, dwarfs juggling fruits, and animal trainers. The sideshow was easy to locate, the conductor more boisterous than any of those for other attractions.
"Come see the amazing Bearded Lady! Lobster Boy! And the world famous Siamese Twins!"
I cut my way into the front of the line and looked up at him, waving dramatically from a podium at the entrance.
"I want to see the man with the largest penis in the world." I announced.
My confidence startled the crowd pushing on all sides of me to hushed whispers.
"Young lady, I'm afraid we cannot accommodate you. This is a respectable enterprise." His condescending chuckles subsided when I presented the money I had just earned in the palm of my hand. He took me aside with an arm around my shoulder.
"Well, maybe we have a little, I mean a big, something for you."
If Budapest is The Pearl of the Danube, then this was the grit inside the oyster. He led me to a concealed section of the tent that held the most vile characters I had ever seen. Lewd, belching fisherman with Harlots so trashy, Madame Pascale would make me disinfect the entire house if they ever took one step inside; pointy-faced, shrieking youths; cackling drunks; and fancy aristocrats, clasping the front of their mink wraps to hide bursting, breathless bosoms.
All gathered around a cage raised upon a platform. A banner hung from the ceiling above, "A Magnificent Aberration of Nature!". Coins paved the floor, a sparkling tribute to the attraction. Kelemen sat naked on a chair in the middle, reading a newspaper. I pushed through the onlookers obscuring my view.
Running from Madame Pascale's shrill threats of eviction for my swift departure was worth the prize before me. A cock of gargantuan proportions dangled over bulging testicles the size of grapefruits. It drowsed semi-erect, hanging sluggishly and thick over the edge of the chair about ten inches, practically touching the floor. The width must have been twice that of my forearm. No woman in the world could accommodate a cock of that size. Ever.
The crowd jeered to get his attention, screaming obscenities, begging for more. Men with money, hoping not to be recognized, tried to hide their jealous erections. A few women bared their breasts, aiming to entice a response. Others blushed while their male partners sought a different reaction underneath their skirts. Keleman paid no attention. He just flipped through his paper, completely unaffected.
He emerged from the tent around midnight and headed back into town. I pursued him through the old streets to a smoky bar. He came out swigging from a bottle of whiskey and continued his journey through the night.
Turning a corner to follow him down a narrow alley between two tall apartment buildings, I ran right into him.
"Why are you following me!" The angry growl faltered. "It's you! What are you doing here?"
"I-,"
"Well? I saw you at the tent. What do you want? To take another look at the freak? I don't hold private viewings."
With a deep breath, I lurched forward and grabbed the bottle from his hand. The remaining whiskey burned its way down my throat. "I understand more than you know." I said, echoing his words from earlier. "Watch."
I lifted my skirts and spread my legs as wide as possible while still standing. The cool air of night shocked my throbbing, heated center. Ready, I looked into his eyes, narrowed with suspicion and impatience.
With the bottle upside-down in my hand, I inserted it, base first, into my cunt. Kelemen's face fell as the whole bottle disappeared.
"My mother threw me out when she found me masturbating with her rolling pin."
My body resumed trembling when his hand reached for the massive bulge distorting the front of his long wool coat.
"The Woman with the Biggest Vagina in the World. You should join the circus." His voice had become deep and husky, his eyes hungry.
"Is that a proposal?" I couldn't help but smile.
"Of sorts."
The bottle slipped from my cunt and shattered on the ground.
