The Voyeur's Motel Page 11

  She uncontrollably tossed her head from side to side, and her hands found his head and her fingers became entangled in his hair, as she spread her thighs wider and lifted them higher. The cords of her neck stood out as she shouted, “Oh, oh, oh,” and then she reached a whimpering orgasm. The male subject immediately entered her in the male superior position, and after a quick series of strokes, she yelled, “Fill me up with come, fill me up!”

  He complied and had a tremendous orgasm, and then collapsed on top of her.

  Then after about five minutes, he eased his penis out of her and rolled over on his side of the bed. Later he got a towel from the bathroom and they cleaned their sexual organs. The Voyeur’s nostrils twitched, smelling the arousing odor of completed sex. But then the male subject fumbled with his clothes until he found a pack of cigarettes. He lit two, passing one on to her. She sucked the smoke into her lungs, and sighed heavily, as if to say: “Sex is over for now, and now we’re back to reality and have to deal with the futility of living.”

  Conclusion: Here are a sexually educated and liberated couple who demonstrate the totality of their love for one another, utilizing sexual style to the maximum. They indicate to all the ability to unchain the sexual inhibitions and ignorance that have imprisoned many individuals. The Voyeur was impressed with their sexual passion but wished that it had not filtered up to him through their cigarette smoke.

  TWENTY-TWO

  TRENDS AND fads frequently found their way into the rooms of the Manor House Motel. Thanks to Polaroid’s portable, folding SX-70 model—considered so revolutionary it appeared with its creator, Dr. Edwin Land, on the covers of both Time and Life magazines in 1972—instant photography was one such trend. “The advent of the Polaroid camera has had a dramatic effect on the lives of certain individuals,” the Voyeur wrote in his journal, noting that he had “observed subjects from all walks of life utilizing the Polaroid camera to record sexual activity,” though it was “extensively the sexual desire of the male rather than the female.”

  But in one memorable instance, the Voyeur watched a very attractive young woman, a college student waiting at the motel for the start of the quarter, who took pleasure in the act of watching herself.

  She is white, 21-years-old, 5’6”, about 115 lbs, with green eyes, red hair, and creamy complexion. The Voyeur has been observing her for three days and during this time she has called no one on the telephone, and no one has visited her. She apparently knows no one in the area because she is a new student at the Colorado Women’s College in Denver, and other than leaving the room to get something to eat, she usually spends all her time in the room reading books, watching TV, and, unfortunately, smoking.

  Lonely as she seems to be, she is not shy about her body because she often walks around in the nude. She actually takes great interest in looking at all parts of her body in the mirror. While watching her yesterday, she removed the mirror from over the dresser and placed it next to the wall by her bed so she could watch herself masturbate.

  She does so in the following manner. First she stimulated her clitoris with the third finger of her right hand and then appeared to become excited. She then used a long ruler to stimulate both nipples at once (with one hand), passing the ruler back and forth over her erect nipples. She had her legs wide apart—her knees bent out and her back arched. She did not move much when she masturbated other than to observe herself in the mirror, almost like it represented someone else.

  When she reached orgasm, her hips raised and her toes clenched downward. Within ten minutes she repeated this, and had another orgasm. When orgasm approached, she would lick her lips, and the appearance of a sucking grimace would be on her face.

  Observing her this evening, I notice a more depressed individual than before. Her hair is messed up and she has been releasing gas at random and without shame. I assume she would never do this if anyone else was in the room.

  Finally, on the third night, she places a long distance phone call to someone in Wisconsin. It may be parents or other family relatives. She tells them that she is fine, is looking forward to school, and is on her way out to a party. There is no party, of course, but she sounds sincere. As she is talking she is also picking her nose and wiping it on my bedspread. After she hangs up, I see her pacing back and forth, and there are tears in her eyes.

  Then she returned to the bed, watched TV, and lit up a cigarette.

  Conclusion: She is having a difficult time, obviously, adjusting to the new environment in Denver, and depression and loneliness appear to have overwhelmed her. But masturbation seems to fulfill some of this void, at least temporarily. After observing many subjects, my survey concludes that women have a tendency to masturbate more out of depression than anything else. Men masturbate purely for physical release. This particular female subject, masturbating in front of a mirror, is getting a second perspective—and I, in the attic, a third.

  TWENTY-THREE

  THROUGHOUT HIS time as resident voyeur at the Manor House Motel, Gerald Foos frequently had occasion to reflect on the Vietnam War. From the tender, careful lovemaking of the wheelchair-bound serviceman’s wife, to the lonely older war widow buying the services of a prostitute, his guests led him to offer a consistently critical take on the effect of the war.

  It was not just their bodies or their families that were affected, however; the mercilessness of two pilots, their callous reveling in destruction, disturbed him, even while their sexual activity reinforced his thinking on voyeurism.

  I assigned Room 6 to a good-looking couple from the town of Rangley, in northwestern Colorado. The man was blond and handsome and stood about 6 feet, and the female was at least 5’8” with long brown hair and large oval eyes. In conversation he told me he was attending a reserve meeting in Denver—he had been a pilot in ­Vietnam—and his lady friend was employed somehow at the community college in Rangley.

  They also said they were going to be joined later by a friend, also a pilot, and he would need a room. So after I got his name, I booked him in Room 7, right next to the couple, where there are connecting doors.

  By the time I’d gotten up to the observation platform, the woman was taking off her ski boots and stockings, and leaning back on the bed.

  The blond man was in the bathroom, complaining of a headache, and he said: “I need to get something to eat. It’ll make me feel better.”

  So she put on her boots and they soon left the room, returning to it in an hour or so. Not long after they got back, there was a knock on the door. It was their friend, a tall dark-haired man in his late 20s. After a warm greeting at the door, he came in and then the three of them sat around for an hour or so talking, even though the TV continued playing all the time.

  The men talked mainly about flying, with some references to helicopter missions in Vietnam. The man who was booked in Room 7 even recalled once throwing a Viet Cong soldier out of his gun-ship. The subject makes me sick.

  The blond guy in Room 6, who apparently is now working somewhere in Colorado as a flight instructor, described in detail his favorite sport, which is chasing and shooting coyotes from his aircraft. He also said he liked to chase them in the direction of a 500-foot cliff and watch them topple over to their deaths. “Those coyotes become so preoccupied and frantic in trying to elude the plane that I’m able to drive them over the edge, and what a thrill to see them tumble end-over-end and crash into the canyon.”

  At about 11 o’clock this disgusting conversation ended. The dark-haired guy got up to say good night and went to Room 7. The couple in Room 6 began taking off their clothes. She was absolutely stunning. She was tall and very slender, but the pair of breasts jutting out from beneath her ski sweater made her look anything but slender. Finally, she was nude. But before he joined her in bed, she asked him to turn off the TV and room lights, which he did.

  I hurried down from the observation deck toward the parking area and my car. But since every
parking space in front of No. 6 was occupied, I could not get my car lights focused on the couple’s room, which was now in total darkness. But as I passed No. 7, I saw through the curtains that their friend had opened up his side of the connecting door and he had an ear pressed against it, listening to whatever bed sounds were coming from the couple’s room next door, and he also had his pants down and his penis in his hand.

  Returning to the platform, I watched him through the vent, continuing to listen as the woman’s voice was groaning with pleasure in the dark, louder and louder, as her partner is making love to her. I couldn’t see any of it, of course, but she was really loud, and as I shifted to peek down on Room 7, I could see this other guy, standing with his head pressed against the door, masturbating to orgasm.

  Conclusion: This observation makes a truism out of my contention that all men are voyeurs to some degree, and will demonstrate this capacity if given the opportunity. But this man, and his fellow pilot next door, disgust me. Their disregard for animals, and the throwing of that Viet Cong individual out of the gun-ship, it makes me hope that somehow these two men will meet the fate of those coyotes.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  THE MOTEL was a place where guests retreated to act out their kinky desires. The Voyeur observed one man, a married father of two, having sex with one of the many teddy bears he had brought into his room. “Apparently he only practiced his unusual depravation when he was on the road, away from his family,” the Voyeur wrote.

  In another far more common encounter, the great diplomacy of a woman turned what could have been an ego-shattering night of embarrassment and disappointment into one of gratification.

  A dignified and neatly-dressed white man, probably in his late 30s, standing about 5’8” and weighing at least 175 lbs, explained that he was here on business from Kansas City and needed a room for only one night.

  Standing next to him was his attractive 25-year-old companion who seemed to be of Spanish origin but spoke perfect English. I placed them in Room 11, which has double beds, and gave them about ten minutes to settle themselves before I went up to the platform to see and hear their situation.

  He was on the phone when I arrived, speaking loudly while sitting on the side of the bed. The Spanish woman was unpacking a suitcase placed on the other bed.

  “My wife and I just arrived,” he said. “We’ve just checked into this motel, and we can meet you at the restaurant we mentioned at 7 o’clock. Is that okay?”

  The party on the other line, a woman, said it was okay, and that she and her husband looked forward to it.

  After hanging up, the Kansas City man turned to his companion and said, “Now, look, let me do all the talking, and let’s just go along with whatever they want, okay?”

  “That’s fine,” she said.

  “And don’t forget: this couple thinks you’re my wife, and so be careful what you say. Also, don’t be concerned about any of the extras they may want because I’ll make it up, financially, okay?”

  “Fine,” she repeated.

  The man seemed edgy and nervous about the impending meeting with this other couple. He explained to her that he knew nothing about them except they lived in Denver and had advertised in a swingers’ magazine. “We’ll see what they’re like at dinner, and, if we all get along, we’ll come back here, okay?”

  They left the room shortly before 7 p.m., and a little after 9 o’clock they returned. About five minutes later, I saw a late model Cadillac pulling up at the curb in front of Room 11. Returning to the attic, I noticed that this newly-arrived couple were both in the mid-40s and both were well-dressed and refined looking, especially the wife. She had a face of classical beauty, with an aristocratic nose, high cheekbones suitably attenuated, a fine chin, a long neck, very large eyes and a complexion any model would envy.

  But after she had taken off her clothes—and the visiting couple were quick about it—I saw that her breasts were very small, and sagged. After her husband became nude, and the Spanish girl also, the three of them lay on the bed and began fondling one another.

  The man from Kansas City was in the bathroom, with the door closed, and when he came out he seemed to be surprised to discover that the others were not only nude but were already in bed stroking one another.

  “Wow,” he exclaimed, still fully dressed, “so soon!”

  As he slowly began to take off his clothes, he watched as his Spanish friend was beginning to perform fellatio on the other man, while the latter’s wife kneeled next to them, softly massaging her husband’s testicles. The Spanish girl had dark skin, the color of rich chocolate, and her large breasts were ringed delicately with chestnut-brown nipples, and below was her dense forest of curly black pubic hair.

  The Voyeur found her incredibly beautiful, and exciting to watch, too, especially as her tongue moved around the purple knob of the man’s penis. The latter’s wife, while still keeping her hands on his testicles, nodded toward the Kansas City fellow in a gesture for him to join them.

  After all his clothes were off, he did move onto the bed with some hesitation, feeling as he did the wife’s hand on his scrotum as well. But nothing she did with her hands, or later with her lips, could arouse his limp penis.

  He was clearly embarrassed, but he did accept the wife’s invitation to lower his head between her legs and participate with his tongue, which he did perfunctorily; but his penis remained unresponsive, reducing him to being a mere spectator after the wife shifted her attentions toward her husband and the Spanish girl in a threesome on the other side of the bed—where, in the next ten minutes, each gained an ample degree of satisfaction.

  The Voyeur watched all this through the vent, feeling sorry for the subject from Kansas City. That poor fellow surely hoped, after he’d made all these arrangements, that he’d become more than just a spectator.

  After the swinging couple from Denver had put on their clothes, had said good-bye, and departed from the room, the man from Kansas City said softly to his companion: “I just couldn’t get turned on by this swinging situation. Maybe it’s just not for me.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about it,” his companion said. “I’ll turn you on.”

  “I’m sorry, but I feel bad,” he went on.

  “Don’t feel bad,” she said. “We don’t need that kind of sex.”

  She then lavished maximum attention on his penis, and tongued it to a rigid straining stalk of excitement. She never pulled her hot mouth away from his surging penis until he had ejaculated into her, which he later called: “the best orgasm I ever had.”

  Conclusion: From what I picked up from all their conversation, the man from Kansas City often takes his Spanish girlfriend with him on business trips. He used this particular trip to experiment for the first time with swinging couples. He obviously could not get, or did not want, his wife to participate in mate-swapping, and the girl served as a substitute. Because people, especially married men, tend to be bored by routine sex with one partner, swinging serves a purpose. But the fact that this man failed to achieve an erection will probably discourage his participating in similar meetings in the future.

  The Voyeur, as of this date, has not observed enough group sex in order to hypothesize on the effects of mate-swapping on the marriages of the participants. Whatever the effects, this variance will continue to be practiced by certain adults and should be condoned.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  VOYEURISM FOR Gerald Foos was a “predictable divination. He had no other choice.” He wrote that it made him “feel credible and worthwhile.”

  “The Voyeur feels strong and brave in the observation laboratory but doesn’t feel particularly overpowering anywhere else, and his strength and courage when he is not in the observation laboratory comes from the excess energy remaining from having just been there.”

  Up beyond the vents, he saw himself as something of an explorer in uncharted waters, “what the majori
ty of people fear and deny in themselves. The taboos. The secrets. The devils and demons. The sexual unknowns. The curiosity. Someone has to be delegated the responsibility to confront these tangible existences and tell other people about them. Herein is the intrinsic essence of the Voyeur.”

  But in the thousands of sexual encounters he watched, there were some that he found difficult to witness.

  I checked in this family from a rural area in upstate New York, putting them in Room 11 on a weekly rate. The space consists of two double beds, and a small nine-by-twelve attached kitchen. The family consisted of a white male and wife, both in their mid-forties—he a 225-pound laborer of sloppy appearance, she a slim woman of average looks and mild-mannered. They were accompanied by their 17-year-old son, a long-hair type, and a 14-year-old dark-haired daughter who is pretty and well-proportioned for her age.

  During routine irregular observations, the Voyeur has witnessed this family as enduring while suffering from a crisis of not having enough money to completely satisfy their needs. The father has just commenced working on construction jobs, but the cold and inclement weather, including snow, is playing havoc with his employment on a steady basis.

  The wife is working and is receiving just enough money in order to pay the room rent.

  The family is arguing and complaining at regular intervals. They need more room with privacy, which represents a constant consuming jeopardy in their lives. They were evicted from their last home for non-payment of rent, and their previous landlord has possession of all their household furniture and belongings.

  The adults’ sex life is non-existent partly because of their problems and also their lack of privacy. Their son and daughter are not attending school, and have been sitting around the room smoking dope while their parents are away at work. Additionally, the teenaged son has been buying drugs from a pusher in the neighborhood, and this pusher also wants him to sell dope for him at the schools in the vicinity.