Tryst on turn-of-the-century Coney Island. By DDaniels. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.Historical note: Up until the mid 20th century, doctors commonly diagnosed women with ‘female hysteria.’ These physicians estimated 25% to 75% of the population suffered from the condition. Symptoms included faintness, nervousness, insomnia, shortness of breath, irritability, a “tendency to cause trouble” and sexual desire. We recognize this today simply as sexual frustration. A common prescription of the time was to engage in coitus as a form of relief. In a time where the depths of sexuality, particularly women’s sexuality, was not well understood; this could sometimes exacerbate the condition. Another alternative was to masturbate the patients to orgasm. Physicians considered this to be an unenviable and arduous task and midwives were often employed to perform the duty. As a side note, Rachel Maines of John Hopkins University has hypothesized the need for this type of stimulation was the reason for the invention of the electric vibrator. The Tony nominated play 'In the Next Room’ dramatized this hypothesis.New York, in the Summer, 1910Jonathan shook his head. “No, I won’t permit it.”“But Jonathan,” Emma said. “I really want to ride a roller coaster.”“I said no and I meant it.”They swayed in their seats as the New York and Sea Beach Line train rounded a bend. Emma watched Jonathan straighten his back in his matching peach ice-cream-colored suit and followed his gaze to what was happening outside their train car. Through the smudged windows, Emma could see the dusty streets of Brooklyn.Their car was packed with people. It was a hot and muggy day and with all the bodies in the car it made it all the hotter and smellier. She and Jonathan had been fortunate enough to find seats. Open windows gave them a little relief as long as the train was moving. The train car buzzed with excitement. Everyone talked about what they intended to do once they reached Coney Island.Emma brushed bits of soot off her long white sleeves and emerald-green bodice, as the train came to a stop. A trio of street toughs boarded the trolley. Her husband and a few other men gave them a wary gaze. Emma was still thinking about the coaster to pay them much mind, though. She decided to give another plea as the train wobbled forward.“How can we go to Coney and not ride a coaster?” she asked. “Jonathan, I’ve never gone before. I want to tell all my friends I at least rode a roller coaster.”“They are too dangerous and besides, it’s what the doctor ordered,” he said. “A roller coaster may excite your condition.”Her mouth dropped. Why he! The doctor never said any such thing! Jonathan was just making this up. He knew good and well what the doctor had prescribed. And what he prescribed certainly didn’t help.Jonathan patted her hand and softened his countenance. “A stroll along the beach is what you need, my dear. The salt air and ocean waves will invigorate you and improve your condition. Trust me. Then afterward we’ll have a fine dinner at Feltmans.”“I’d like to try a hot dog,” she said.“Really, my dear? When you could eat at Feltmans?”“If you think it would spoil our appetite, we could share one.”“I don’t want a hot dog.” Jonathan straightened his straw hat. “I’ve had one and trust me, you aren’t missing anything. It’s just some poor quality sausage wrapped in a soggy bun.”Just because he didn’t like it didn’t mean she wouldn’t, she wanted to say. But one battle at a time.“If not a roller coaster, perhaps another ride?” she asked. “The Steeple Chase perhaps?”“I was thinking Dreamland. There are some educational shows and more gentle rides there you will enjoy.”She turned away. She heard Dreamland was boring. She worked her jaw and tried not to look at him. Her first trip to Coney and she’d have none of the rides she had so often heard about.Jonathan waggled his eyebrows and twitched his mustache at her. “I was thinking we could go on the Tunnel of Love.”She frowned. Tunnel of Love indeed. Jonathan was always randy. The doctor’s prescription for her condition, coitus, hadn’t help any. Just last night, Jonathan had come to her, his cock poking out at her from his long johns like a curved yellow squash. After a cursory ask for permission, he entered her, her knees up in the air as he rutted away. She had enjoyed how his pubic bone rubbed against a tiny spot between her legs and sent little waves of thrill through her body, but as always, in a couple of minutes, he was spent. Afterward, despite what the doctor believed, she found herself experiencing her condition. She was tense and unable to sleep.As Jonathan snored away like a bear in a cave, she couldn’t stop thinking of the little thrills Jonathan had given her. That one little spot. Perhaps she could produce the sensation on her own accord? That wouldn’t be proper. But could it really hurt if she did it just once? Giving a quick look at Jonathan, she carefully inserted a finger under her drawers and searched out the little spot. It was a hard little nob at the top of her folds which were coming moist with dew. Touching it sent a shiver through her legs and abdomen. She couldn’t help give a sigh. Jonathan woke with a snort.“Emma?”Her hand shot out of her drawers and she pretended to swat at a fly. She didn’t answer him and acted like she was asleep. In a few moments he was back to snoring. She had lost her nerve to touch herself again and soon she had a terrible headache. It was yet another night’s sleep lost to her 'condition.’In the morning, Jonathan came up with the idea they go to Coney that weekend.“It’s just what you need!” he exclaimed.At first she had been excited, until he told her there would be no roller coaster ride in their plans. Now, it sounded like it was just going to end up being a very long, very hot day.She pulled at the bag hanging from her shoulder, dug around past her parasol, and pulled out her latest book, Kate Chopin’s The Awakening. She could feel Jonathan’s disapproving frown as she opened it to her bookmark.“Must you read that?” he said in a whisper. “Here? In public?”Emma felt the sudden steel in her spine. He could take away the roller coaster and the hot dog, but he wasn’t taking away her book. She pretended to be engrossed in her reading to answer. He mumbled something before he unrolled the newspaper under his arm and flapped it open.It had taken her half a year to find The Awakening. Banned in most states and counties, she had found it by chance. She mentioned wanting to read it to a retired librarian friend at the Henderson’s Fourth of July celebration. A few days later, Emma found a little package wrapped in brown paper delivered to her door.When Jonathan first saw the book in her possession, he hadn’t said anything, probably because he hadn’t recognize the title. He came home about a week later, though, furious. One of the neighborhood gossips had informed him of the book’s contents. He demanded to have it at once. Emma refused to surrender it.“What’s a man to think—his wife reading a book whose premise condones adultery?” Jonathan demanded.Emma wouldn’t back down. “It’s just a fiction, Jonathan, not a moral treatise.”They had argued, but in the end, she remembered with some satisfaction, she had prevailed.The book soothed her. She loved Mrs. Chopin’s prose and could identify with the book’s protagonist, Edna, and her loveless marriage to Mr. Pontellier. Chopin’s descriptions of New Orleans and the Gulf of Mexico made her want to travel there. She couldn’t understand why Edna had become so infatuated with Robert, the story’s love interest, though. He seemed so juvenile and tepid.As she turned the page, a flash caught her eye. Emma looked up and saw one of the toughs rolling a nickel across his knuckles. She became fixated on it, watching the coin as it drifted across his fingers.When she looked up from the roving coin to its owner, she found herself staring again, this time at two beautiful eyes, shiny and bright as a child’s marbles. They were staring back at her.The young man touched the tip of his flat cap and gave her a little smile-like he knew a secret about her that she didn’t.She returned the smile politely then returned to her book, but she found she was still thinking about the tough. The way he was smiling told her he had been listening to her and Jonathan’s conversation. Hmm, he was handsome, yes, but rude and without good manners.She could feel his eyes still on her. She found herself wanting to disappear into the seat or wall of the train, away from him, to hide. Then why did she want to look at him again?She chanced another glance.Despite his worn clothes and cat-like slouch, his face was clean shaven and pure. He was wearing a vest over his white shirt, which was rolled up to his forearms. They looked nice and strong, like steel cables. There was a scar under his very lovely lips.An unexpected shock struck her in the pit of her stomach and zipped down between her legs. She involuntarily rubbed her thighs together and felt moisture.She quickly turned back to her book. She wasn’t reading anymore, though. She had forgotten all about Edna and her infatuation with the tepid Robert. She wanted to keep looking at the handsome tough.She pushed a stray ringlet of hair into her broad brimmed hat. What was happening here? She was a married woman. Her days of flirtations were over. But when she looked at him, she felt a tiny stab of joy in her heart: the pricking of Cupid’s arrow. She hadn’t experienced that in, well, she couldn’t quite remember. But she was married now. Shouldn’t those types of feelings just go away? And what about that shock? That delicious little shock?She lifted her eyes again and once more felt Cupid’s little stab. He was still eying her, the coin rippling over his fingers.“Here we are,” Jonathan said taking her by the arm and breaking the spell.The train slowed into the station and everyone disembarked. Emma stepped down onto the platform, concentrating on her balance among the bustle of the passengers. When she finally looked up, she stopped, stunned.She had entered a world where everything whirled, dazzled, and moved.Dozens of buildings extended down a boardwalk and pressed down upon each other. Some were tall, some were squat, some had high turrets and colonnades. Some looked like palaces or temples, but all were smeared with peeling white paint and plastered with bright colored signs advertising amusements for 5 or 10 cents. Ticket barkers cajoled and music whistled out of brass horns and organs of calliopes and orchestrations. Sea birds darted overhead. Smells of salt air, buttered popcorn, and sputtering hot dogs filled her senses and made her mouth water. A terrified thrill went up her spine as she heard the screams and cries from a nearby roller coaster. The boardwalk rumbled like thunder under her feet.And the people! Everywhere people. So many… people.There were men with somber faces, trying not to look too impressed at all the wonders around them. Women’s broad brimmed hats swiveled and turned like the so many wondrous rides. Children clung to their parents’ hands with gaping mouths and round eyes. One child with an ice cream-smeared face and a soggy, empty cone in her clenched fist, dragged behind her father wailing and stomping her feet.Emma remembered a recent newspaper headline, and it suddenly made sense to her: 'Three Hundred Thousand People in Coney Island Yesterday. Twenty-three Children Lost.’“Stay close,” Jonathan said as he surveyed the scene like a field marshal forming his battle plan. “I don’t want to lose you in this mob.”He moved forward, brandishing his bamboo cane to make way. Emma followed after him, feeling herself becoming just a particle in the crowd.The roller coaster was so near. She could see it now with its tall crisscrossed wooden beams and a cart full of people rolling up and down its steel tracks. But Jonathan pointed his cane in the opposite direction. “This way, dear.”They passed a slender ticket barker, standing next to a strong man game.“Come on, gents! Step right up! Test yer strength!” the barker shouted. “Which one of youse are the men and which of youse are the boys?”He spotted Jonathan.“You, sir. Why don’t you impress your lady with some of your masculine virility?”Jonathan looked at the game, intrigued, then turned to Emma. “Shall I?”He didn’t wait for her reply. He handed her his hat and cane, walked over, and took the mallet being extended from the barker’s hand.“There ya go, sir, just take this mallet and strike that lever and make that puck hit that bell.”A small crowd gathered to watch.Jonathan grabbed the mallet and swung awkwardly. The puck raised up the tower and lit up the lights to 'Cream Puff.’A chortle bubbled out of the crowd. Emma put a hand to her mouth and tried not to laugh.“Oh, you can do better than that, sir,” the barker said. “Here, give it another go.”Jonathan swung. The puck went up the tower and lit up “Push Over.”More guffaws from the crowd. “Hit it harder!” shouted one man.But Jonathan had enough, he returned the mallet to the barker, his face sunburn red. He fished in his pocket for a couple of coins, handed them to the barker and took Emma by the arm.“Obviously rigged,” he said.“Here,” came a voice from the crowd. “Let me give it a whack.”It was the tough from the train.Jonathan tried to pull her away, but Emma held her ground. She watched as the young man removed his vest and handed it to a freckle-faced boy. Emma admired how his shirt stretched across his wide chest. He rolled up his sleeves past his elbows. Gracious, he had some mighty fine arms.He caught her looking at him. She swore he flexed his muscles a little extra as he grabbed the mallet. He placed it between his legs, spit into his hands and rubbed them together. One of his friends, watching from behind, said “Whack it good, Frank.”Frank picked the mallet back up. He sighted the lever. Sighted the height of the bell. He gave Emma a little wink and threw the mallet up above his head and pulled it straight down his body. There was a snap just as the mallet head reached the lever. Pow!The puck zipped up the tower and struck the bell. Bing!The crowd let out a cry of admiration. Frank’s buddies slapped him on his broad shoulders. Frank’s eyes never left Emma. He had given her a personal show. She gave him a small smile and nodded, approving his feat.She felt Jonathan’s pull at her arm again. “Let’s go, Emma.”As they made their way down the boardwalk, she knew Jonathan’s mood was now soured by being shown up. This decreased her chances of having any fun considerably.“I’ll get us some refreshment,” Jonathan said.She indicated a nearby stand. “That one has hot dogs.”“I’ll get you some popcorn. It will be easier on your stomach. Stand here while I wait in line.”Emma stood by a brightly colored calliope wagon piping out its tune, 'Bird in a Gilded Cage.’ As she waited, she sang the sad lyrics under her breath.'She’s only a bird in a gilded cage,A beautiful sight to see,You may think she’s happy and free from care,She’s not, though she seems to be…’The muggy heat seeped through her blouse. The cotton fabric clung to her skin, which was getting stickier by the moment. Her corset was starting to get little rivulets of perspiration under it. She was glad she hadn’t tightened it so much this morning. She pulled out her parasol, popped it open, and enjoyed some respite under its shade. She wondered how much longer Jonathan would be. She glanced toward the line.There was Frank.He was leaning on a lamp post, his thumbs hooked in his pockets. His companions were nowhere in sight. He touched the brim of his hat when they made eye contact.She gave him an acknowledging nod and turned away, trying to ignore cupid’s prick once more.He was coming toward her. Her mind raced as her breathing picked up. She was sure this wasn’t proper.“Wanna go ride a roller coaster?” he asked.She stared, not quite sure she had heard right. “You mean … with you?”Imbecile question. Of course he meant with him.“That’s right.” Frank said.The proper response would be, 'No, I am married.’ But when she opened her mouth to tell him, no words came out. She glanced back to where Jonathan was still waiting in line.Frank cocked his thumb over his shoulder, “I ain’t riding with him.”He held out his hand and motioned with his head. “C'mon. He ain’t gonna take ya.”She looked at his hand, calloused and big. Gracious, why wasn’t she saying no? Was she actually considering it? Married. She was married!Frank curled his fingers. “C'mon. Let’s skiddoo.”It felt like she was outside her body watching her hand slowly reach toward Frank’s outstretched palm. No! What are you doing? Married! You are married!As if losing patience, Frank reached out and snatched her hand. He turned around and headed down the boardwalk with her in tow. She had to run to keep up with his long strides. He was a bank robber, making his get away, and she was the loot.She looked back over her shoulder, seeing Jonathan’s hat disappearing amongst a sea of others.This is wrong!She pulled back and came to a stop. Frank considered her. Their hands were still interlocked.“It’s only one ride,” Frank said. “And he ain’t taking ya, no matter how much ya beg. Don’t ya worry. I’ll have ya back in a jiff.”She looked back towards Jonathan. She couldn’t see him for all the crowd.Frank shrugged. “When he asks ya where you’ve been, just tell him you got lost. No one will be the wiser.”Lie? To her husband? The coaster rumbled. People shrieked as the cart flew by. She felt her heart longing for it.Just one ride. It couldn’t hurt anything could it? She’d be back in just a few minutes.She turned back to Frank and gave a nod. He pulled and uprooted her from her spot like a daisy.They wove in and out of the crowd, then turned down a side alley. They were heading away from the coaster.Emma suddenly was afraid she had made a terrible, terrible mistake. Frank was built like a jungle cat. He could rob her or something far worse.“Where are we going?” she asked through trembling lips, almost afraid to know the answer.“I know another coaster just down the way here. A better one. That other one’s old and for babies.”He led her out of the alley and onto another street. Frank released her hand and their hurried pace turned into a leisurely stroll. Frank extended his hand to shake. Emma cautiously took it.“Frank Kelley,” he said giving a good pump.“Emma Adams.” She replied.She removed her hand from his and adjusted her hat, which had gone catty-wampus during their getaway. He had introduced himself properly at least. Perhaps she wasn’t in the danger she had thought.“A pleasure,” he said hooking his thumbs into his vest pockets. He had a swagger to his walk. His sleeves were still rolled up and she couldn’t help but admiring the lines of the muscles on his forearms.“First time to Coney?” he said.“Yes,” she said. She struggled to find her composure. If she was going to do this, she wanted to do it right. She didn’t want to appear like a frightened little girl. Summoning her dignity, she said, “How about you?”“Oh, I’m here quite a bit. It’s like a second home to me.”They passed a ride whose entrance was decorated with the naked image of the goddess Aphrodite. Worshipers were bowing themselves before her feet.“So how’d a keen dove like you; end up married to that crumb?” Frank asked.Emma was flattered, yet defensive at the same time.“He’s not a crumb. Jonathan’s a good man.”“Oh? Won’t let you ride a coaster and won’t let you try a dog? Sounds like a crumb to me.”As Emma suspected, he had indeed been listening to their conversation on the train. She wondered what else he heard.“He’s just looking out for my interests,” she said testily. “He’s a good husband.”Frank showed his hands. “Hey, I didn’t mean to get ya all steamed up.”He ran his fingers along the red and white striped awning of a Coca Cola stand as they passed.“Been married long?” he asked.“A week ago was two months,” she said.To celebrate, Jonathan had gotten wine, which he drained. Once intoxicated, he had flopped out his cock and cited doctors orders. He fell asleep right afterward, stretched out in his long johns and snoring into the pillows while she read her book.“Two months,” Frank said thoughtfully. “And already the fire’s gone out.”She ignored him. He was handsome, but rude. In truth, there had never been any fire. She married Jonathan because it was a good match. He came from an upstanding family, her parents approved, and being a banker, his income would take good care of her and, eventually, their children. She always knew their marriage would be void of passion, but her mother once said passion was over rated. Her well being and the security of her future children were much more important.“What about you?” she asked. “Are you married, Mr. Kelly?”“Nah,” he said. “It’d be too disappointing for the girlies if ol’ Frank Kelly ever got married.”He cocked his hat forward and gave a smile, obviously proud of his own humor.So, he was a bit of a braggart then. Of course, she shouldn’t expect anything less from a street tough. There was some truth to his words, though. Handsome devil that he was, she felt certain she’d also be disappointed to find out he was married if she was one of his 'girlies.’They passed a brass band gathered in a semi-circle, playing a quick march. Two monkeys on leashes held up tin cups to the passing crowd. The little things looked smart in their tiny military hats and jackets.One of the monkey’s dropped his cup, hopped onto his friend’s rear end, and began to pump away. His little pink penis poked out for all to see. The crowd laughed and pointed. When the tuba player saw them, he lowered his giant bell over their little heads and gave a big blast. The monkeys scrambled apart and went back to panhandling.“Hey, Mac,” Frank leaned in toward the tuba player. “Lay off will ya? They’s just having a good time. How’d you like it if you were trying to get a little frisky and some git blasted his trumpet in yer face?”The tuba player just glared at him over puffing cheeks.Emma chuckled. And then she saw it—the roller coaster. It was a giant rolling web of wood and iron. Its entrance, designed like a train depot and topped with American flags, had a giant wooden sign that displayed the name, 'Rough Rider.’Her heart started to beat faster. Was she really going to do it?As they got closer, she glared at the ride’s price for admission: twenty-five cents a ride! Really? What robbers! She then noticed the line. It wound around and down the street for nearly a block. She and Frank would be waiting forever! What about getting back to Jonathan? Frank didn’t lead her to the back of the line, though. He went straight to the front.“Hi ya there, Jimbo,” Frank said as he casually approached the ticket taker who was dressed in a Spanish-American war uniform“Hi ya there, Frank.”The ticket taker let Frank and Emma enter the front of the line and without paying. Jimbo gave Emma an appreciative glance as she passed by.A few of the waiting people protested and hurled a few insults in their direction. Emma was concerned about fairness, but Frank didn’t seem to care. She turned to him as he eyed the coaster, irritated by his flagrant disregard of the rules. Then again, they had avoided the line.“How did you ? And you didn’t pay?” she said to Frank.Frank shrugged. “I know most of the fellas out here. They let me in all the time.”She wished she had some of his cock-sure, devil-may-care attitude.As they waited for their turn, she stared wide-eyed at the coaster’s savage hills and turns. A cart zipped by in the distance and the screams of the riders faded as it disappeared over a hill. She wondered if she had made a mistake.“Have people really died on these?” she asked. She remembered reading about it in the paper. Was it this coaster? Rough Rider. That name sounded familiar.“Not in a couple of months,” Frank said as he watched as a toboggan-like cart filled with hysterical people make its way up to the platform.A couple of months? Was he joking? He had to be.People exited the car. One woman was laughing like a hyena. As she stepped out of the car, she fell to her knees. Her smiling husband hoisted her back to her feet.Frank brought her to the front, helped her into the cart, and sat down next to her.“You were joking about the people dying weren’t you?” she asked.“Nope,” he said as he lowered the roll bar over their laps. “Seventeen people were thrown from the second turn back in June. Only four died, though.”“On this ride?”“Yes.”Terror seized her. She wanted out! Now! She grabbed the roll bar and shoved. It wouldn’t budge!“Ready?” Frank asked.“No!”“Hold on tight!”She felt her lungs would burst from her scream.The car zipped past murals of the Spanish American War then hurtled down a steep embankment. Emma fell over into Frank’s chest, sobbing. He gave her a reassuring squeeze.“You’re doing it, dove! Look! You’re doing it!”She ventured to peek out from under his arms as the car slowed. They rounded a curve, accelerated, then dipped down another hill. She covered her eyes and let out a wail, and yet she didn’t feel quite as afraid this time.Slowly, she pulled herself off his chest, while she still enjoyed the comfort of his arm around her. He laughed and yelled into the wind as they rounded another turn. She closed her eyes and felt the wind on her face and whipping through her hair. Her body was pitched up into the air and then thrown against Frank as they rounded another turn. This time, they both let out a laugh.They slowly ascended the final giant hill. Emma held her breath in anticipation. When they reached the top, Frank roared, “Hold on, dove!”She let out a thrilled scream as they hurtled toward the ground, her bottom bouncing on the hard wooden seat as she smacked against Frank.She was laughing when the car slowed and pulled back to the platform.“Bully good ride,” Frank said. “Bully!”Emma felt her body flushed with exhilaration. She wobbled a little when she stepped out of the cart. Frank steadied her.He looked at her head. “Oh jeez. You lost yer hat.”She didn’t care. She had done it!It took her a while to finally quit laughing and catch her breath.“Oh my, that was fun,” she said giving one final giggle as she wiped her face of dried tears.Frank smiled and pulled a nickel out of his pocket, flipped it in the air, caught it deftly at waist level and rolled it across his knuckles.This fellow seemed to get his way and take life so easy. She wanted to know more.“You usually go about asking married women to go riding with you on roller coasters, Mr. Kelly?”“Call me Frank. No, not usually, but when I saw you back there on that train, I says to myself; Frank, this here girl is the most beautiful thing you ever did lay your eyes on and you’d be the biggest goop if you didn’t give her the good time she was looking for.”She felt her cheek flush at the compliment. Most beautiful thing? Really? Her?Then reality set back in.“I should probably go find Jonathan,” she said looking around as if she might see him. How long had they been gone? Twenty minutes? Thirty? Oh gracious, he was going to be either terribly worried or terribly furious.Frank seemed hurt. “Do you really want to go back?”Truth? No. If Jonathan was angry, he would just want to leave, and she’d have to suffer the silent treatment all the way home. Also, she had just begun her adventure. How could she possibly go back? But going back was the right thing to do.“He’s probably looking for me,” she said.“Oh, no doubt. But he ain’t gonna find ya. There’s almost half-a-million people at Coney, dove. You’re a needle in a haystack.”To be continued.By DDaniels for Literotica