Bob

All of the commotion had caught the eye and attention of Miss Fancy Milf, the night's prize, Rebecca. She immediately abandoned the young surfer and made her way over to the scene.

"Jesus fuck Christ!" She yelled. "It smells like fish death!! And stomachs. And rum, and loquats, and lime... Who's been drinking Tiki Trawlers you idiots!?"

At that moment she turned and saw Bob, his arms still somewhat crossed. Luckily for him the barf didn't look like it came from him. Gus was still knocked out on the floor. Bob started to think quickly.

"Bob! It's me, Rebecca!" She wailed. "Are you okay, baby? I've missed you. Do you need any help. I've been thinking about you all week you hawk billed gigolo! Mmm... Maybe I could clean you up..."

Bob knew he had to act quickly before Gus regained consciousness. He went along with her.

"Oh, baby! It's so good to see you." He cooed. "Gus blew up. He couldn't hold down his fourth Trawler, he just exploded. I'm collateral damage, I'm just a victim here with shrapnel wounds, I'm a mess. I need you to take me home. I need a nurse. I need a shower. I need you, baby!"

Rebecca blushed madly at his remarks. She loved to fantasize. She got wet thinking about being an army nurse and finding this poor soldier nearly destroyed in the rubble of a fish factory battle. The smells just made it more real for her.

"My husband is out of town." She said.

"Of course he is, baby!" Bob replied. "He is every fucking weekend! Let's get out of here. I'm ready. Quickly! Before Ferd gets back and before Gus wakes up. I might really tear him up for doing this to me if I saw him stand up."

Rebecca acted quickly. Bob shook his tight, crooked curls and slapped himself twice in the face. Rebecca put her arms around him and helped to pull him up. The two raced towards the door and into the night. The car was his, he was sure of it. He had left with Rebecca. This fact was confirmed by several bystanders to Gus when he finally came to. He had a lump the size of a goose egg on the front of his forehead, it looked like he had a misshapen skull, alien-esque. A small stream of blood trickled down into his eye.

"He left with her." One of the bystanders said confidently. "She looked horny and turned on by him. It was strange. It was as if she was in a movie, just playing a part, but doing a really good job of it. She seemed made for the scene. She felt like she was saving him."

Gus was flabbergasted and heartbroken but he was a man of his word. He knew that it would be hard but he would have to hand the keys over, the title too, to Bob. Somehow Bob had pulled this off. No one did tell Gus that Bob blamed him for the vomit, for the geyser. It would take around ten days before Ferdinand would let Bob back into the Slippery Lotus. Ferd was adamant, for a while, about the ban but eventually relented and allowed for his return. Gus's too. He did not allow Bob or Gus to ever again have a Tiki Trawler and Bob was fine with that. He never wanted one again.

Bob found a great parking spot at the club. He felt that the god's must be on his side when luck like this occurred. His erection had subsided and he was glad about that too, though he couldn't get Claudette out of his mind.

"One day, one glorious fine day, I will inch my manly proboscis into her succulent sphincter!" He declared.

The car had only been his three weeks. He had only driven it to the Lotus twice since he had obtained it and since the end of his futile banishment from the establishment. The incessant charging of the car and the rapid depletion of the battery on the road had become somewhat of a bane in his existence, a persistent preoccupation. The clout and appearance of it, though, had already improved his status, at least among those who did not yet know him at the club. It was a conversation piece and he relished in telling people about it. They considered him to be someone who was environmentally conscious and hip and, as long as one did not get into the details of how the cars were made, what the real source for the electricity that charged them was, and the rare minerals they required for their construction, the grotesque mining that occurred, this topical "truth" was accepted and he wore it proudly.

He stepped out of the car and grabbed his gym bag. He walked towards the stately entrance to the club and whilst he did he pressed the lock button on his remote control key and heard his cheeky automobile chirp in response.

"It's almost like a bird." He thought to himself. "A green bird."

He entered the glass doors of the building and made his way to the front desk. A chubby, but cute, teenager was working. He had seen her before and found her nerdy yet attractive.

"Hi!" Bob said enthusiastically, holding his head high. "I'm Bob. Bob Begovic. What was your name again?"

"Hi, Bob." She replied dryly. "We do this every time I'm working. I think you know my name."

"Oh, yeah!" He chuckled. "I'm so bad with names. I like when you're working. You're cute. It's weird, I find myself asking someone's name and when they respond it's like my mind goes blank, it's like I don't even listen! It's a terrible habit. Sorry about that."

"It's okay. You're not the only one." She responded. "I'm Francesca. Maybe you'll remember this time."

"Francesca, Francesca, Francesca." He said quietly. "I think I've locked it in. Thanks for helping me out. I won't forget again. I'd love to get two towels and a locker key if you don't mind. I'm just trying to get in a quick workout before heading out tonight to meet my friend at the Slippery Lotus. Have you ever been there?"

"Here's your key and your towels, Bob. Or should I call you BB?" She laughed. "You know, for Bob Begovic?"

"Ha ha," he muttered, "I've never heard that one before!"

"And no, I've never been to the Slippery Lotus. Kind of a gross name." She said. "I'm only nineteen, they won't let me in. I don't have a fake ID. I hear they have some terrible drink down there with fish eggs in it. I can't imagine what the people look like who drink those!"

Bob blushed and felt a tiny wave of nausea.

"Ya, I've heard of those." He replied. "Me neither. You gotta' be a certain level of depraved to drink fish eggs! Only nineteen, eh? I would've sworn you were at least twenty three. There's something very mature about you for your age."

"Maybe I seem mature for my age because I have a job." She giggled. "Not many folks doing that these days. Here, will you sign in for me?"

Bob grabbed a pen and did his best to make his signature look good. He flared out the rounded parts of the b's and then drew a quick line under his name.

"There you go Claudette!" He exclaimed. "I mean Francesca! Sorry, er, I worked all day with a woman named Claudette and she's been on my mind. She's rising through the ranks quickly."

"Ya, ya, ya." Francesca whispered. "I bet she is."

"Thanks so much! I do appreciate it. Have a good weekend." Bob said enthusiastically.

He grabbed his towels and slipped them into his bag. He got the key and made his way to the men's locker room. His locker was number 33 and it took him a few minutes to find it. He was new here, after all, and he hadn't got the hang of the place. To him it was like a strange maze with doors and pathways leading this way and that. He had almost walked into the women's locker room twice before getting reprimanded by one of the employees just as he was about to enter.

Once he found his locker he took the towels out of his bag. He put one in the locker. Then he disrobed and hung his work suit as neatly as he could. He hadn't brought a change of clothes so he would be wearing the same suit out for the night. Once disrobed he put on his swimsuit, board shorts, actually, turquoise color, that he had picked up at a surf shop down near the beach where Ferdinand most liked to fish. He grabbed the other towel as well. He didn't lock his locker, he just put the key in his bag and closed the door to it. It wouldn't lock unless it was done manually. Bob didn't lock much in his life except for his car and occasionally his studio apartment downtown.

"You know what?" He spoke inside of his own head. "Fuck exercise today. I'll start tomorrow. I'm just gonna' chill in the hot tub and then maybe do a sauna. I'll start exercising tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow..."

As he walked through the locker room on his way out to the pools and jacuzzi he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. The slight donut of pudginess around his waist looked prominent and ghostly white, save for the light covering of fur.

"Jesus!" He thought to himself. "I better start my workouts tomorrow."

He shrugged off any self consciousness after that and strode proudly out through the doors and onto the regal patios that surrounded the pools. The hot tub he liked was off in the distance. You had to walk by one large pool, more of a kid/activity pool, and then through a gate and past a lap pool. He was excited to see that no one was in the tub. A few people swam languid laps in the marked lanes of the pool that was next to it. There was a sturdy German swim coach stretching in a nearby cabana, she eyed him cruelly.

"Why does she always do that?" Bob mused to himself. "She'd be hot if she wasn't such a bitch. A bit older, but still, what a body!"

Bob placed his towel on a chais lounge and then walked down the steps into the jacuzzi.

"Fuck me!" He swore. "It's hot as shit!"

It took him a minute to get used to the temperature. He peered at the thermometer and it read 103. It was hotter than he liked. He was more of a 99 kind of guy, but this would have to do. It crossed his mind that maybe the hot water would remove a little of the blubber that had started to congregate on his body. Wishful thinking.

Once into the water he began to relax. His mind drifted lazily along a few mindless subjects until it once again landed on Claudette.

"Oh, sweet Jesus!" He murmured. "Claudette, I want you so bad."

With the seed planted in his mind his body began to react. He felt his cock begin to swell. Before it was very noticeable he got out and quickly turned on the jets to add some cover for his soon to be misdeed. He was determined to enjoy his erection and the sweet thoughts of what he'd like to do with Claudette. He turned on the whole package: bubbles, jets, the whole deal. He noticed that the jets really amplified the smell of chlorine in the tub.

"It's weird that I've seen chlorine signs on the wells down in the river bottom and they have a skull and crossbones on them." He thought out loud. "But here I am soaking in the stuff. That's strange! Trust the science, I guess?"

He let the thought vanish. He resumed exploring Claudette's body in his mind. He could smell her jasmine scent. He imagined her shaved genitalia, her grapefruit breasts, her no-stick, immovable hairdo. He imagined that tender little plum of an ass. His erection grew more turgid. He looked around to see if anyone was nearby. Nope. He was in the clear.

After attempting to get comfortable in the tub, and rubbing his crotch lightly, he noticed that one of the jets was perfectly positioned so that the surging water from it was aimed right at his crotch. The water brushed him seductively and sent an amazing sensation through his penis and his body. He looked around again. Nobody. He did notice a surveillance camera up above on the building that housed the spa machinery, but it looked like it wouldn't see him. He slid a little closer to the jet.

"Holy fuck!" He sighed. "That feels amazing. Oh, Claudette, touch it again."

As he said it, he positioned his swollen member in more of a direct line with the pulsing water. He had to hold it in place for it to really hit the right spots. He did it thoughtfully, all the while making sure it didn't look like he was doing what he was doing. He got absorbed in the act. Before long he could feel his balls churning. The sensation on his penis became unwavering.

"Claudette, my god, your mouth does amazing things to my cock!" He thought. "Yes, finish me! Make me cum sweet woman. I knew you wanted me!"

The visualizations were so real in his mind. He could feel it.

"That's it, baby. I'm going to cum!"

And he did. The head of his penis was sticking through the crotch opening of his board shorts. He began to pulse and writhe. He began to cum into the hot tub. It felt so amazing that he almost forgot where he was. He shot long ropes of semen into the water. The sensations were extreme and delightful. Just as the last contractions of his orgasm began to wane he heard a voice, no two voices.

"Excuse me!" They rang in unison. "Hello! Do you mind if we join you?"

He was startled out of his euphoria. His bliss short lived. He turned quickly to face the two newcomers.

"Uh, no!" He blurted out, his face turning red. "No, please join me. I was just relaxing, off in la-la land, you know how it goes. The hot water almost made me fall asleep."

The two people joining were an older couple. They were both reasonably fit and probably in their late fifties to early sixties. They looked at him strangely as they entered.

"Okay, I guess we will." The woman said. "I feel like we interrupted something. Are you okay? Your face is red."

"Oh, ya!" He stammered. "I'm fine. No, I'm just hot. It's 103 in here and I'm more of a 99 guy, if you know what I mean. My name's Bob and you two are?"

"Okay." The woman replied. "If you say so. I'm Liz and this is my husband Bob. You two have the same name. Isn't that a coincidence."

Liz slid into the warm water and found a seat. Bob, her husband, wasn't far behind.

"I guess it is a coincidence." Our Bob said. "Quite a coincidence."

The new Bob slid into the water after his wife. Bob was well shaped for a man of his age, he looked strong and didn't seem to like our Bob. He looked at him discerningly, with jackal-like, somewhat beady eyes. Moments passed in painfully slow increments. Our Bob was getting uncomfortable. His erection was completely gone, a thing of the past, he had almost forgotten about it. That was when Liz let out a strange cry.

"Oh my god, Bob!" Liz screamed.

"What!??" Our Bob replied.

"Not you stranger!! My Bob!" Liz said. "What the hell is this??"

Liz raised her arm out of the water. There was a large line of coagulated white goo on it. Our Bob's heart sank. His face went nearly purple.

Our Bob replied,

"I have no idea what that is! I mean what could it be?"

New Bob eyed him more harshly than ever. His jaw got tight and his fist clenched.

"You dirty fucking pervert!" He blurted out. "We all know what that is!! We've all seen it before! This explains a lot you sick fuck! This explains everything!"

"Ewww!!!" Liz whined, watery tears forming in her eyes. "It can't be!! It just can't be! Tell me it isn't!!!"

Bob looked at the two of them as seriously as he could. He was at a loss for words. His wits couldn't fail him now. He needed to think and act quickly. Two words came to his mind and he knew it was his only chance: DENY EVERYTHING!

"You're not insinuating that I did that, are you??" Our Bob said as vehemently as he could. "What kind of man do you think I am??"

"I know what kind of man you are!!" New Bob said. "You're the kind of man who'd rub his dick on the jets in a public jacuzzi and shoot his semen into the pool!!! That's what kind of man you are! You're a lowlife! A selfish bastard. You're depraved!!!"

Things were getting loud and others began to notice. Our Bob noticed the surveillance camera begin to move on the building so that it faced him. His breath got short and his heart was pumping.

"Oh, Bob!" Liz screamed. "Get this terrible goo off of me. It's all coagulated. I can't move it, it sticks to everything! I hope I don't get pregnant!! I can't believe this man shot his semen into the pool. Oh, this is terrible. I can't get it off."

Liz's Bob got up abruptly, exited the jacuzzi and then grabbed our Bob's towel off the chaise lounge. He grabbed his wife's arm and pulled her out of the tub. Once she was out he began to towel the semen off of her.

"Oh, my god!" She wailed. "There's some on my leg!! Oh geez!! In two places. It's like a glue trap!! I can't get out of it."

Liz's Bob began rubbing the towel in a variety of spots all of which had some amount of our Bob's semen on them. Liz's Bob kept looking back at our Bob with vicious, violence filled glances. He had murder in his eyes. It must've taken him five minutes to wipe all the cum he could find off of her. He ended by getting a big glob off of his own foot. When he was finished with that part of the cleaning he looked at our Bob and then pointed and screamed,

"Everyone!!! This pervert just came in the hot tub. We knew he was up to no good when we got in and we were right. He rubbed his dick on the jets and just let it go!! I just spent the last ten minutes trying to get his dirty seed off of my wife and I don't think I'm finished yet!!!! Remember his face!! Get him kicked out! He's lucky I don't beat his flabby, curly headed ass right now!!"

He then looked at our Bob and said,

"This isn't the end of this you cocksucker! I'll get my revenge!! You can count on that!"

He then threw the towel at Bob in the hot tub, hitting him in the head and depositing a small globule of semen into his quasi afro. Our Bob slunk down as far as he could. Most people hadn't paid attention to the rant of Liz's Bob, instead most were locked in a subdued, submissive trance, looking at their phones watching other dramas in the world that had been captured on camera. Unfortunately, for our Bob, a few did notice and they took notes. They looked at him like he was the devil, some sneered and said lewd comments. One man even gathered a small dirt clod from the landscaping and chucked it towards him but missed wildly leaving a trail of dust and earthy grit.

Our Bob knew that he must act or he'd be toast. He would be expelled from his new found oasis and terrible rumors would surely circulate throughout the town and maybe further. Claudette may even find out. He gathered his courage and rose from the jacuzzi to address the haters who were still eyeing him with disdain and disgust.

"You! All of you! Hear me!" Bob bellowed. "You have all condemned me with no evidence! I have been accused of a grievous offense which I did not commit!! Who knows who's been in this tub today!? Tens? Maybe hundreds of people!! I've got some of it on me too! Yet I am not blaming Bob nor Liz!"

He stood and showed the few onlookers a meaty lump of cum on his knee.

"I'm a victim in this! Not a perpetrator!" He squealed, his voice thinning as he said it. "It's as much of a crime for you all to condemn me, to see me as guilty without evidence, as it was for some vile fool to rub his cock on the jet and let loose in the turbulent, steamy waters of this jacuzzi. I am not guilty! I am not guilty! Those are my words and I will stick by them as they are true!"

Unwillingly his eyes cast downward when he had said the last part. People noticed but what could they do? He didn't like lying but found himself doing it more often than he'd like. The club would need a forensic team to come out and test his deposit and who knows how the semen would hold up in the heat and chemicals. Bob felt he would be safe. He couldn't be sure but he prayed that he would be. He rose out of the pool, grabbed the wet and grisly cleaning towel from the water, and started a sad but defiant march back to the locker room. He could hear the German swim coach hiss at him as she called him a pervert. He stuck his tongue at her in response.

The further Bob got from the pool the less people looked at him. He was now in the zone where people hadn't witnessed the disturbance. He had gone from such bliss to such torment in such a short time that it made his head spin. He felt a little woozy.