SIX

BETWEEN THE Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays of 1966, Gerald Foos spent enough time in his attic to observe forty-six of his guests participating in some form of sexual activity, at times singularly, at times with a partner, and, on one occasion, with two partners.

Despite his many years as a freelance voyeur prior to buying the motel, Foos had no previous experience watching a threesome in action, and so during the late afternoon of December 15, he did not anticipate anything uncommon when two neatly attired men and a woman approached him at the registration desk and requested a single room for the evening.

“The furnace in our home just stopped working, and my wife here is freezing,” volunteered the larger man, a broad-shouldered, red-haired individual in his early thirties who wore a tan suede sports jacket over a maroon turtlenecked sweater. The woman smiled, while the younger man stood behind the couple saying nothing.

After the red-haired man had signed the register, listing his name and that of his wife’s while ignoring their companion’s, Foos’s instinct was to say something, but resisted when the woman requested that he recommend the name of a nearby restaurant. Foos assumed that the three of them would soon be going out to dinner but only the couple would be returning later to spend the night. After handing them the key to Room 9, Foos watched as they turned and walked toward the main building, each carrying an overnight bag. Checking the registration form, he noticed that the red-haired man had listed as his home address the name and location of a vacuum cleaner retail store located in downtown Denver.

Since Viola was still on duty, Foos quickly excused himself and went to the attic, positioning himself above Room 9 and writing on a notepad what he saw.

They were a very polite, very organized couple with male companion. The husband immediately took off all his clothes, except his shorts. His wife disrobed and so did the male companion, who revealed a large penis of at least 8” to 10”. The husband was interested in taking pictures of his wife sucking the large penis and holding it in her hand.

They then proceeded to have intercourse in several different positions while the husband continued to take pictures and also was beginning to masturbate during the progress of the act. They assumed the female-superior position and the husband got real close to the plunging penis and exclaimed, “You have such a nice big cock and I love to see it go in and out.” The husband was now more actively engaged in masturbation and reached orgasm at the same time as his wife and their companion. Then the husband said: “Hold it right there, and don’t withdraw your cock until I get my camera ready.” He took several pictures of the companion’s penis still embedded in his wife’s vagina, with the semen running down. For a while they all three laid quiet on the bed and relaxed, discussing vacuum cleaner sales. The companion apparently works as a sales rep for the vacuum cleaner firm that the husband and wife operate. Later, the three of them got dressed and left.

And so I have seen my first episode of “threesome sex,” which enables this husband to fulfill his voyeur’s drive. I could completely envision myself playing the husband’s role, and I would definitely like to explore the possibilities of seeing this transpire in my life. I would really like to participate, and it displeases me that, at present, I must remain an observer. Incidentally, this was the largest penis that I have seen so far.

On the following evening, two young women from Vallejo, California, both of them schoolteachers attending a seminar in Denver, arrived at the Manor House Motel and were welcomed by Gerald Foos. After assigning them to Room 5, which had two double beds, he provided them with local maps and sightseeing brochures, and then escorted them to their room in the main building while carrying their luggage. Before closing their door and issuing them two keys, he assured them that he was always available for further assistance, and then after saying goodnight, he headed over to the utility room and the ladder leading up to his viewing platform and writing pad.

They are very appealing young women, one a buxom blonde standing about 5’8” and 120 lbs, and the other a brunette at 5’3” and 110 lbs. After a while they had removed their clothes and the blonde was giving the other a massage, and this slowly led to lovemaking that is so different from what I see when women are with men. With women the physical actions are more mutual. Technically, women do together what male and females do—touch and kiss and caress one another, except there is no penis. I’ve yet to observe lesbians who use a dildo. I think a dildo is a big male porno trip.

The blonde is now deep mouth kissing the other, and she is also touching her very lightly with her tongue and hands all over her body, especially her buttocks and lower abdomen. The blonde is giving her clitoral stimulation with her fingers and is now using her mouth and tongue. This continued for some time with a gentleness of unhurried emotion and either her tongue was gently flicking her clitoris, or her mouth was sucking hard, and then finally her right index fingers moving right above her clitoris in an increasingly rapid up and down movement, made her orgasm. And immediately upon orgasm, the blonde lowered her mouth and lips to the brunette’s vagina and shook her head rapidly from side to side which produced an even greater orgasm for the brunette woman.

After a period of quiet conversation, the smaller woman, the brunette, began caressing the blonde woman’s breasts and exploring the nipple area and said, “I love to suck your breasts, and I love the salty taste of perspiration on them.”

“Do they taste salty?” the other asked. “Yes,” said the brunette. “Yours don’t,” said the blonde, “but I guess I get more excited than you do.”

They spent anywhere from three to five hours caressing, touching, cuddling, hugging, lip kissing, deep kissing, clitoral stimulation, both manual and oral and intimate conversation before, in between and after sex.

Conclusion: I am continually impressed with the warm, loving relationships that I have regularly seen between lesbian women. Their feeling of sympathy, compassion, and understanding far exceeds the relationship of men and women. Sex is not just sex, no matter whether hetero or homo. It has to do more with the way men are brought up to regard their bodies, touching and sensuality, versus the way women learn to do this. These women could sum it up with a phrase “make love with” instead of “make love to.” Unfortunately, the majority of men I’ve observed are concerned with their own pleasure rather than the women’s. There is far less emotional love than just physical love. Lesbians, on the other hand, are better lovers to each other; they know what their partner wants and most of all there is an emotional closeness that can never be matched by a man. More tenderness, more consideration and understanding of feelings, etc.

There is not any particular procedure only, and most important of all, usually either finger-clitoral stimulation or cunnilingus to produce guaranteed orgasm at some point. Women seem to have a more sustained energy level after orgasm. And it isn’t necessarily over automatically because somebody orgasms. These two subjects appear to live a happy fulfilled life; however, some of their conversation that I’ve overheard indicates that they feel somewhat uncomfortable with their peers back home, and are feeling a little pressure or fear as a result of their interactions as schoolteachers.

The two schoolteachers were the only lesbian lovers who stayed at the Manor House during the final weeks of 1966, and the trio from the vacuum cleaner company represented the motel’s first example of group sex Foos recorded, which he described in his report as “kinky.” Within a few years, however, as group sex became more popular and the Sexual Revolution received wide coverage in the media, additional bed partners would no longer be regarded as abnormal or “kinky.” This raised a financial question at Foos’s motel: Should he charge higher room rates for threesomes or foursomes than he did for couples?

As it was, extra charges were only levied on guests who checked in with pets, but such increases—a fifteen-dollar-a-day pet fee—were reimbursed when the guests checked out if the pets had caused no damage to the room’s interior or added to the burdens of the chambermaid. Still, it was with limited enthusiasm that Gerald Foos greeted arriving guests accompanied by dogs, and this was certainly true when a middle-aged vacationing couple from Atlanta arrived holding on to the leash of a large and lively hound.

Under normal circumstances, Foos would have assigned this presentable but unexceptional-looking couple to a room without viewing vents, for nothing about either individual engaged his sexual curiosity; but Foos’s prudent nature inclined him to regard their dog differently. He should be watched, Foos decided, and so after the couple had agreed to the payment policy on pets, they received a key to Room 4.

Later, in the attic, after Foos had spent an hour watching as the dog tried to sleep amid the argumentative voices of his masters, Foos wrote in The Voyeur’s Journal:

During observation this evening, I see the same disgusting pattern repeating itself with these people.

First, there is the disagreement over how much money they have spent on vacation; and how much is left!

Then there is the wife bickering over how they are wasting time, not seeing the proper attractions, and all they do when they go on vacation is watch TV! Then, the wife complains about the room and why they have to stay in this dump, instead of some large tourist hotel. This infuriates me to a degree when someone refers to my motel as a dump! It is not first-class, but it is clean, and has had guests from all walks of life. She is just trying to pick a fight with her husband, but he is a passive individual and shows little or no emotion regarding her insults. She accuses him of not accomplishing anything as a social worker, and says he will never make enough money to please her doing “this stupid work.”

Shortly thereafter, I notice the hound smelling around behind the large chair in the room and he proceeds to do his duty in a large pile behind the chair.

The subjects notice the hound’s achievement, and make an effort to remove the excrement from the carpet. She says, “The manager will never know the dog went behind the chair, because the chair covers it, and besides, we’ve cleaned it so good he will never see it.” She goes on to say: “The last motel we stayed in never found out that he went on the carpet.”

After this episode they retired to the bed, and were able to accomplish nothing except endless arguments between TV commercials. The next morning at 10 a.m. they came down to the office for their pet deposit. At this time, I asked them to accompany me to the room and proceeded with my inspection. I removed the large chair from the corner of the room, and pointed to an area of the carpet where I had seen their hound relieve himself last evening.

I said, “See that spot?” They said, “No!” I said, “Your dog soiled the rug here, and I will have to shampoo the entire carpet because you allowed your dog to dirty the room.” They appeared stunned, but didn’t resist at the idea of the motel keeping the deposit. Before they checked out, I was up in the observation platform to listen to their critique. They were immersed in a discussion of how I knew the exact position their hound had relieved himself.

They couldn’t believe it—maybe I had an extraordinary sense of smell, they pondered. Or perhaps I was gifted with extra-sensory perception. “His eyes must be able to see spots that we can’t see,” they assumed. “Maybe,” he said, “he is able to look in that window somehow, and was able to see the dog dirty the carpet.” She said, “He’s just a dumb-idiot manager who probably keeps all deposits for himself anyway, and was just lucky in pointing out a particular spot on the carpet.” With that statement, they departed the motel, with only the Voyeur knowing the correct presentation of facts and with a gentle chuckle emerging from within.

Conclusion: My observations indicate that the majority of vacationers spend their time in misery. They fight about money; where to visit; where to eat; where to stay; all their aggressions somehow are immeasurably increased, and this is the time they discover they are not properly matched. Women especially have a difficult time adjusting to both the new surroundings and their husbands. Vacations produce all the anxieties within mankind to come forward during this time, and to perpetuate the worst of emotions. Most of these people seem to be very content when they are together in the motel’s office, paying for another day at the motel or while picking up literature and brochures.

You can never really determine during their appearances in public that their private life is full of hell and unhappiness. I have pondered why it is absolutely mandatory for people to guard with all secrecy and never let it be known that their personal lives are unhappy and deplorable. This is the “plight of the human corpus,” and I’m sure provides the answer that if the misery of mankind were revealed all together spontaneously, mass genocide might correspondently follow.