Room at the topless by Ted Mark

Author:Ted Mark
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

I got dressed and went down to see the hotel’s bare-busted bell-belle captain-ess—or whatever the hell you call her. As I'd expected, there was no one on the staff fitting the description of the redhead who’d tried to shoot me. As I recrossed the lobby after making the inquiry, the desk clerk hailed me.

“This came by messenger for you, Mr. Victor.” He reached into my mail slot, took out a sealed envelope, and handed it to me.

I found a secluded chair in the lobby and opened the envelope. There was a typewritten slip of paper inside. “EROS THEATER, TWO P.M., LEFT BALCONY, SECOND ROW FROM BACK,” it said. And it was signed “CASTOR OIL.”

Whaddaya know? This could be a real break. If I could identify Castor Oil, that should make Putnam sit up and take notice. And I’d be just as happy if I could bypass killing Ex-Lax in nailing Castor Oil.

So, at about ten to two, I walked up to the box office of the Eros Theatre and purchased a ticket. The marquis of the joint was advertising “EIGHT BRAND NEW FIGURE STUDIES, THE ULTIMATE IN ANATOMIC ART," and the stills displayed outside confirmed that the Eros Theatre was one of the half-dozen or so ultra-sexy cinemas peculiar to Los Angeles.

There are “nudie” movie houses in other cities across the country, but none that I know of offer such frankly erotic film fare as the ones in Los Angeles. The series of shorts I wasabout to see had been shot on a shoestring for this exclusive showing. What they lacked in cinematic quality, they more than made up for in titillating sequences which seemed to me to have been deliberately contrived for onanistic appeal.

I found a seat in the middle of the second row from the back of the left balcony. The theater was dark, and it was a while before my eyes could adjust to see anything except the screen. So that’s what I looked at. One of the short “nudies” was just starting.

The scene opened with a long-haired brunette, very sultry, very voluptuous, lying on a wide couch and reading a book. There was a jerky close-up of the book to show the title: Lady Chatterly’s Lover. Then another jerky focussing on the brunette’s face to show her eyes sparkling. She moaned aloud, and her tongue moistened her lips insinuatingly. In the background there was music, a very slow rendition of the beginning of Ravel’s Bolero.

The focus changed again, and the brunette’s whole body was shown. She was wearing a frilly black negligee, opened to a deep V at the bodice, reaching demurely below her knees. Black net stockings covered her calves, descending to very high spike-heeled shoes. Now, as she read, one of her legs bent at the knee and moved slowly with a rubbing motion that ran her ankle halfway up the other leg. The movement revealed the black net stockings to about mid-thigh now.

Then her hips began to move, and the negligee fell away from her legs altogether as she bounced slowly, provocatively, on the couch.

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