"The Ultimate Lay"
by Grant Carrington
"I want a woman who can love me...who wants me and only me, who can
take me without hurting and hold me inside her long enough so we both enjoy
"The Ultimate Lay" was published in CAVALIER (November 1980).
It was originally written at the 1969 Clarion SF&F Writers Workshop and titled "Penultimus." One day while walking down Clarion's main street with Evelyn Lief and Lynn Marron, they talked me into letting them read it. Evelyn read a page then passed it on to Lynn. When Lynn gasped once, Evelyn said, "Oh, you've reached that part, have you?" Thus began a brief new art, which I called Creative Reading: You gave a copy of "Penultimus" to someone and watched them read it. When Harlan Ellison came onto the porch to find out what was causing so much noise, we gave it to him. He read one page then said, "I'm going to read the rest of this in my room." And that was the end of Creative Reading. I made the mistake of submitting it to the Workshop, which got Robin Scott Wilson in hot water when the woman Xeroxing copies for the Workshop read it.
Appolonius von Selditz had a problem. It was a problem many men would have liked to have. But they didn't have it.
His penis was too big.
Many men would be happy to own the equipment that Appolonius possessed. For a while.
But they would soon learn what Appolonius already knew.
That most women have a hard time accepting such an organ. That they have to be worked up to a fever pitch. By which time Appolonius would be so aroused that he would quickly ejaculate. If he hadn't already.
Granted there do exist women who are equipped to handle such men. But
Appolonius didn't know any of them.
So he went to the stars, thinking that the pros who staffed the starships
would be able to satisfy him.
Unfortunately, since he had no skills or experience, he was only able to get
a lowly job with the most dog-eared, fly-by-night, cut-budget outfit. It had two prosties--the law required at least two on each ship--but they fucked mechanically.
Appolonius might as well have stayed on Earth.
"The trouble with you, Appy," said Virginia, "is that you're not happy with
what you got." She played with his flaccid organ, now covered with their mingled juices. "You gave me a good time; I gave you a good time. What more do you want?"