Sara Lee

Sara Lee

One afternoon in Tel-Aviv, as I was walking, preoccupied to a troublesome meeting I had to attend, a man opposite me stopped suddenly and then moved on directly towards me. I was so startled that I halted.

The man was a Hassid, dressed all black, with a wide hat. His beard seemed too huge for his small body and looked as if it had never been trimmed.

“Jacob?” He said. I did not answer. “You are Jacob Kaplan, aren’t you?” He asked again…
.
“Who wants to know?” I asked. I had no idea who the man was.
“I am Simon, don’t you remember me? We used to work together.”

“Simon? Simon who?” I eyed him suspiciously.
“Simon Dagan,” he said. “I was a purser with El-Al. We flew together.”

“Simon! what are you doing in this disguise?”

The last time I had seen Simon was in the lobby of a Paris hotel about seven years earlier when, one evening, the El Al crew was deliberating in which restaurant to eat. Simon had called me aside and said he wanted to talk. He looked very sick, could hardly walk and was breathing heavily. I asked him if he needed a doctor or if he wanted me to take him to hospital. All he wanted was to sit and talk.

I remember taking Simon to a nearby café. As he was about to sit, he doubled over with a sharp pain in his chest and almost fainted.

He was very white and begged me to take him back to his room. However, he did not want me to remain with him so I left but called the company doctor. Our flight left the next morning with a replacement purser. I had not seen him since.

“Seven years ago,” I said to Simon. “We went to a restaurant to talk; you did not say a word, went into hospital and disappeared without leaving a trace”.

“Yes. Thanks for your help that night”.

“OK, Simon. I am going to buy you a kosher cup of coffee and you are going to fill me in with the details. This time you are not getting away.”

I was more than curious to learn the reason for Simon’s metamorphosis. I called my secretary and told her to postpone the appointment.

“I’ll never forget that day as long as I live,” said Simon as we walked to a sidewalk café.

We ordered our coffees and Simon started speaking very slowly: “The day you last saw me in Paris was in fact my last day with the airline. If you remember, we had all arrived at the hotel at about noon.

As I was unpacking in my room, there was a knock. I opened the door to a tall, and I mean very tall woman, holding a small travelling iron in her hand. I stared at her, open mouthed I had never been so close to anyone six feet nine inches tall. For all her size, she was nicely proportioned, with a pretty face.

“Howdy neighbour,” said the woman with a thick accent from the deep south of the United States. “Can you help me plug in the iron? I don’t know if the voltage is correct or if the plug will fit into the socket.”

She led me to her room and, as a good Boy Scout; I connected the appliance with an adapter plug I always carried, so the young lady could iron. She thanked me and offered to buy me a drink after she had ironed her dress.

It amused me to see her with such a tiny iron for such a big dress. ‘She’ll never finish the job.’ I was thinking. She looked like a girl holding a Barbie doll iron. I left her and went back to finish unpacking.

An hour later, she again knocked at my door. She was now wearing a leather mini skirt exposing endless legs. I stared impressed. I could not relate to her as a woman. She seemed more like an impressive statue than anything real.

“I am done neighbour,” she said. “Here is your adapter. Thank you so much. Please come back and have a drink.” I hesitated. “Come on, come on. Let’s do it!” She was very assertive.

As I was following her to her room, I was thinking whether God made this woman on purpose or He’d just made a mistake.

“I’m Sara Lee, from Mobile Alabama. I’m on a group tour,” she said as we entered.

The room service waiter had already set up a folding table with white tablecloth over it. There was a bottle of Jack Daniels, a bucket of ice and a plate of crackers, cheeses and other goodies.

Sara-Lee filled two glasses, to the brim, one with ice, which she handed to me, and the other neat with raw amber whisky. We toasted each other. She, to my astonishment, downed the contents of her glass in one gulp.

“I usually don’t drink so early in the day,” said Sara-Lee, “but this is my first time in Paris and I need to celebrate.”

Sara-Lee and I were sitting together on the couch and I could watch her closely. I was especially taken with her shoes that were the size of canoes and I wondered where in hell she found shoes, or clothes for that matter, to fit her.

Then I looked at her head. Each single strand of her blond hair was thick and, all together; she looked though she wore a gold threaded wig. Her hands were smooth but firm and very strong.

As her whisky went down, she became increasingly talkative. I understood only half of what she was saying, because of her heavy accent and because of the rising level of whisky diluting my own blood.

She kept filling my glass whenever I was not watching, and then checked to see that I drank it. We were talking and laughing about this and that.

I knew when to laugh only because she would start to giggle at her own jokes and then slap my thigh with tremendous force.

Suddenly she grabbed my hand and drew me close to her on the couch. Her arm was across my shoulders. My head disappeared somewhere between her hips and her breasts. It was a grotesque scene.

She continued drinking from her bottomless glass until, at some point; she picked me up and deposited me on her lap. “Come on big boy, let me see how you kiss,” said Sara-Lee.

I felt like a puppy and was a little hesitant so she took the initiative. Her colossal tongue was soon filling my mouth. I was completely unprepared for her next move when she picked me up again, carried me over to the bed and tossed me on it. I did not resist. I could not, and I had no desire to resist.

She lifted my legs and pulled off my pants. She might have been a mother changing her baby. In no time at all, I was quite naked and so was she.

“Come on big man, let’s see what you can do to a horny girl,” she said and rolled me on top of her. She held my thighs tight within her enormous legs, like a giant nutcracker. Her hands pull my head into her breasts.

With my face embedded, all my breathing channels were completely blocked. I tried very hard to break her hold and breathe, but it was no use, she was too strong for me.

She seemed to enjoy my wiggling and my struggles to stay alive which, to her, were a delightful sexual performance. She gave some encouraging cries: “Yoo-hoo big stud, so far you are the best lay I’ve ever had.”

I was fading fast, I was dizzy from lack of air and was about to faint. Suddenly, I felt a huge, wonderful explosion in my head, accompanied by a very bright light. A tremendous wave of euphoria washed over me, as though a drug had been injected into my veins.

I passed out. I remember hearing voices. I saw a quick review of my life and even spoke to my dead mother.

I don’t know how long I was out but I woke with an unbelievable pain in my chest. Sara- Lee was over me slapping my cheeks and looking petrified, while her enormous breasts danced before my eyes.

I knew I had had a near death experience and I thanked God He had brought me back. I saw it as a very clear signal - a rebirth, a second chance to make something of my life. I felt I had no choice. I had to obey the call and dedicate my entire life to serving the Creator.

“What are you telling me Simon?” I was not sure whether I was more shocked than amused. “Are you really saying screwing Sara Lee was a religious experience?”

“No, no. You don’t understand,” he insisted. “Even my rabbi told me it was a divine happening and that only a few people are so honoured” He explained that Sara Lee was merely God’s messenger. “She was an angel sent to put me on the right track, to show me the way, to point me in the right direction.

I could not believe my ears.

“Tell me Simon, what happened to the wife you used to brag about, whose photo you carried in your wallet?” My wife, I am sorry to say, did not want to become observant so I divorced her. I am married to another woman now”.

We fell silent for a while as I puzzled over it. “Why were you hospitalised that evening?”

“It was all from God. God’s way of making a point,” said Simon. “God made Sara Lee strong enough to break my rib. It was all from God”.

I blinked to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. I wondered whether to comment or to keep my mouth shut. After some time I said: “Let me tell you what I think Simon what you experienced was an orgasm, a unique one all right, but just an orgasm, nothing more.

It is a recognized phenomenon called ‘Erotic Asphyxiation.’ Sexual enthusiasts make love with plastic bags over their heads to experience it.

You can count yourself lucky, Simon but for reasons other than you think. Your miraculous return to life or second chance as you call it was because Sara Lee got her orgasm in time to release you from her grip.”

Simon sat motionless, staring at me. “You know what, Simon,” I continued, “your rabbi was right, I do believe Sara Lee was indeed an angel.” Simon’s look became quizzical. “Only an angle can give an orgasm to a mortal and, with that single orgasm, turn him into a full-fledged nut case.”

Simon rose and looked down upon me with contempt and disgust.

He turned and without a goodbye, walked away fast.

I have seen neither hide nor hair of him since.

The End

Captain Vain
Hagai Cohen

Captain Vain was a very handsome and impressive young airline Captain.

He was so good looking that the advertising department of our airline decided to use him in many of the company’s advertising campaigns. He also featured in many short commercial movies, a co production of the airline and the state of Israel tourist department. The fact that his face was pictured everywhere, made his ego grow to an immense size, and as the Hebrew expression goes - "the urine went to his head."

Captain Vain was seen strutting around like a peacock in heat, showing how beautiful and how important he was. And all for one purpose: to impress the ladies.

Captain Vain would chase every female in sight; of course, he would do it only when his ever-loving wife was not around. When she was present, or within a one-mile radius, Captain Vain would transform himself from a gallant peacock into an ugly duckling and would become as obedient as a poodle.

In an airline there is always a fresh supply of young women and Captain Vain never stopped trying. There was of course a ‘class’ gap between the almighty Captain and the young women and, from a distance, the women seemed to be impressed by the uniform and his apparent dignity. As one woman described it to me: “Many girls fantasize about him, of course before knowing him."

The reality, however, was totally different. Despite the fact he was forever around young women, his success was limited. The fault lay, according to a knowledgeable woman, in his approach.

She told me he would say: "You must try me, I am the best," or: "It may be your once in a lifetime chance to be with someone as good as myself," or: "You don't know what you’re missing," or: "Ask your girlfriends they'll tell you who I am." Well, many girls, after undergoing his arrogant courting, did consult other ladies who had experienced his modus operandi and the information was spread all over the airline. I was told that the study of Captain Vain’s techniques was included even in the cabin attendant’s ground-school curriculum - a fact that made all the girls avoid him altogether.

So it happened I was in Amsterdam one lovely morning and we were promised the weather would be a perfect 24 degrees Centigrade, with low humidity and a light breeze.
"Great weather for a motor scooter excursion," I suggested to the crew at breakfast. They all agreed.

The necessary arrangements were quickly made, and all the crew of our Boeing 707 Jetliner hit the road.

We were five women and four men and the Captain of the group was none other than our notorious Captain Vain.

It was the perfect idea for a perfect day; we drove around Amsterdam on all those special roads for bicycles. We stopped for coffee in a windmill converted into a restaurant. At a picturesque fishermen’s harbor we had ‘fish and chips’ and a beer.

It was perfect for most of us but not so for one young cabin attendant. Captain Vain used his clumsy and insulting technique on Shoshi. It was my first opportunity to observe the big operator at work. Vain used courting tricks from elementary school: like a boy who, when wanting to show his attraction for a girl, pushed her into a corner, pulled her braids and hit her with a ruler.

This foolproof technique was upgraded by Captain’s Vain to an adult version. He chose to show Shoshi his affection by cutting in front of her scooter and making her stop abruptly. It was clear by the Captain’s laughs he was having a great time. The poor girl fell down several times and in one case she even bruised herself. It was apparent that Shoshi was tormented but was afraid to confront him. His actions, by all standards, were sexual harassment.

Captain Vain’s behavior was the only cloud over an otherwise lovely day. He gave me and the rest of the crew, a very bad taste.

My interest in the ‘Vain versus Shoshy’ affair would have been minimal under normal circumstances, but I felt that my interference might arouse some interest.
"There is something in it for me," I said to myself.

I had a long-term dislike for Captain Vain. Some two years earlier, we were involved in a flight emergency; we lost one engine and all the hydraulic system. It was a positioning flight (no passengers) so captain vain decided against my opinion to fly all the way to our destination.
It was a wrong decision as a crippled airplane fuel consumption is way above normal. We landed safely but with fuel reserve below the legal minimum.

The chiefs did not like it. We were questioned separately. Captain Vain proved a spineless, slimy creature.
He tried to blame me and the engineer for all his wrongdoings. "They gave me the wrong information," he said. "They weren’t in the cockpit. I was left alone with no support." Captain Vain did not write an official complaint. He knew it would not hold up in any real investigation. I never forgave him.

Under the circumstances, it was understandable I would try to help Shoshi. More than anything I wanted to puncture his over-inflated ego. To be frank, it took me almost all day, to figure out a plan. Then, when I had an idea, I needed Shoshi’s cooperation and I was not at all sure she would give it to me.

In the evening, after returning the scooters, I took Shoshi aside and said: "Look Shoshi, I know it has not been a good day for you, and I am very sorry. However, I have an idea how to get back at him and how we can enjoy a sweet revenge. I am going to suggest we all go to dinner together and I want you to come with us. Please accept my invitation and I promise you a most pleasant evening."

At that time, I was not ready to reveal my plan to Shoshy. As it happened, Shoshi was willing to trust me and agreed to come. "Use all the tricks to show how beautiful you are,” I told her.
An hour later, we met in the lobby, all dressed casually except for Shoshi. She wore an evening dress, nice jewelry and delicate perfume. She looked lovely.

Shoshi attracted some good nature compliments that made her feel uncomfortable. I moved close to her and whispered in her ear: "Once we are out of the lobby and on the sidewalk, take my arm. We’ll walk slowly behind the group. Every time you see Vain look backwards, be ready to whisper in my ear. Make it look like an authentic lover’s whisper."

Shoshi was a smart young lady. It took her a split second to comprehend the plot. She played her role to perfection. She took my arm and pulled it very firmly towards her. Every time Captain Vain or any other member of the group became curious and discreetly looked backwards, they found her smiling and whispering close to my ear. It was quite evident Captain Vain was getting more annoyed and upset by the second.

At the restaurant when we sat around the table, Shoshi of course sat next to me. A few glasses of wine later, an innocent bystander would have been certain he was witnessing the birth of a love affair. I myself began to doubt it was still a role-play. Captain Vain, who had been "working" on Shoshi all day long, looked puzzled, confused and nervous.

At the table, in between pieces of Balkan mixed grill, Shoshi told jokes, became the center of attention and announced officially that I was her date. On the way back, Shoshi took active control and gave events a new twist. "No more walking behind the group," she said to me. So, we joined the rest of the crew on the walk back the hotel. During those twenty minutes, Shoshi informed whoever was interested, how happy she was. She told us she feels so wild, she had enough energy to play all night! She said many other things too, just short of saying in plain words: "I'm horny."

Upon arriving at the hotel, she excused herself from the rest of the group and pulled me towards the hotel bar. Over a drink in a dark corner, we discussed the evening’s events with much laughter. We conspired and planned also for the final blow.

Next morning, after being informed by the front desk that our offended Captain was already having his breakfast, we entered the restaurant hand in hand with loving, satisfied smiles stretched across our cheeks. When Vain saw us, all the blood drained from his face and he looked about to faint.

After a pause, Captain Vain protested: "What do you two talk about all the time?"
Shoshi was on the ball and replied immediately: "We don't talk all the time!" She drew out the “all,” smiled and looked at me with lustrous eyes for approval.

Captain Vain was certainly sorry he had asked the question. With anger in his face and tone and without referring to me by name, he said: "How do you do it"? Choosing my words and speaking aloud, ensuring I was heard over the entire restaurant,i said:

"Well Captain Vain, if you really want to know, it's nothing more then the supremacy of brains over looks."

His chalk faced turned vermilion. Throwing his napkin on his plate, he rose and walked out of the dining room. Never again did he approach another female member of any crew I was in!

THE END