Broad chested, slumbering, with a bowed head and swelling shoulders, he was reminiscent of mythic heroes from ancient times.
His sleep however, didn’t last long that summer night. Awakened by a strange force, Walter opened his eyes and didn’t at first believe he was awake. First, he pinched himself in the thigh, and then he tugged superstitiously on his ear.
“Oh, oh, ma-an!” Walter groaned. He undid two more buttons on his shirt and began to scratch his chest. “Jee-sus Christ!”
Shots of a charming, beautiful, tanned woman in white lacy panties and matching dazzling white bra, with a tattoo of a red flower on her leg, flickered on the huge screens on the wall. The woman lay on a wide bed, sliding like a snake, kneeling, and thrusting out her lower jaw and bloodied mouth. She slid forward. Next, exhausted, she fell on her back, languidly extending her beckoning arms.
Roy continued to press the buttons of his laptop, never taking his eyes from the screen. And on the screen, this enchanting brunette metamorphosed into the red flower, which suddenly burst into flame. The flame flared up, raging, then was extinguished; a half-naked Carmen again appeared through the thin stream of smoke.
“Oh, man, this is better than any porn movie! It’s even better than a strip club!” Walter didn’t skimp on the praise. Beads of sweat covered his forehead, and his neck shone dully as well. “Such a hot Latina! No, she’s not a cheap stripper. This one’s from an expensive escort service, five-thousand bucks a night, and no less.” Walter thus expressed his final conclusion as an expert when the “film” was over. He took a deep breath, as if he’d just come from a dangerous nighttime raid. He looked at his watch. “Well, we killed an hour. Thank God for sending me such a shift partner!”
The next day Roy brought her to his apartment in Dyker Heights.