Calban Attempts To Experience Life More Fully (Ch.18): Part 3: Section 2

    He could not stop now. He knew with confidence that he would make it to that door. He took deep breaths as he hurried at a fast walking pace over the street. He was deep into this adventure, beyond the point of no return. He wished he was anywhere but here at this moment, but he had to see it through or his life would be worth nothing, would never change. The door was slightly ajar. That meant it was open for customers. His heart was beating loudly as he opened the door and stepped inside, pushing it back to where he had found it so that no one could see him from the street. He had made it through the door with nobody noticing him in the street. He was evidently in a small entrance room; a little kiosk was in the wall. There was nobody behind it, but a bell was set on the kiosk. He looked through the window. There was a man, with only a towel around him, sat beyond a counter. He pressed the bell. A woman came round the corner from inside the counter. She wore a grey jumper and when she looked at him through the window he saw that she had a lovely face, as attractive as any he had ever seen, and long golden brown hair.

    Before she had time to say anything he asked her, “Can I have a massage please,” repeating the terminology he had guessed must be correct from his original vidcall.

    She answered him quite politely, “Yes, that will be five credits please. Put your forefinger on the fingernet pad please.” He did so and the credits were automatically and instantaneously debited from his account, just like any bar or shop he had ever been to’ although it had always been rare for him to go to such places in the past. The feeling of business normality reassured him immensely. “Go through please,” the lady said. She must mean the door on the left. She operated a button which allowed the door to open and he went through into the larger room he had seen through the kiosk. The lady and the counter were there, the man in the background. There were two other ladies sitting on a couch, both wearing revealing clothing, corsets which accentuated their breasts, high heels. Their legs were bare and shapely. They looked like he imagined prostitutes would. Hot with embarrassment he turned to the lady behind the counter, needing to know what he should do now.

    “What do I do?” he asked, feeling foolish.

    “Have you been before?” she asked, grasping, at least, that he had probably not been to this establishment before, and with some sympathy, which he was grateful for.

    “No.”

    “Just pick one of the girls or you can get changed first, or sit and wait until you see the one you want. We have an airpool and a sauna if you wish to start in there.”

    “Thanks,” he said, still feeling very foolish. His throat was dry and his words had no confidence. Turning to the ‘girls’ on the couch he decided to make a quick decision. They both looked good to him, female with long hair. One was blonde, the other brunette. In a quick decision he decided to go for the blonde one; he liked her hair and she had a shapely body, although he could see in his first glance that she was not as good as some of the women in the pornog vids. She was not as good as the delicious woman behind the counter either, but he assumed that if she were on duty there she was not available to him. Even so she looked very good to him.

    He asked the blonde woman, “Would you like to give me a massage please?” she said yes, stood up with a casual distant look, and picked up a towel which she presented him with.

    “Follow me,” she said, and he followed her across the room, through a door and up some stairs.

22/6/96

    Her thighs were fleshy and tanned, which was rare amongst citizens because most of them spent most of their lives indoors at work or at home. Only film stars, the super rich, and prostitutes had tans. He doubted that prostitutes had real sunlight tans. He assumed they were creatures of the city like everyone else, although he knew little about them. Maybe they earned enough to be able to spend holidays in the sun. He suspected they induced their tans by spending some hours under the tanning machines, which had once been popular with city people.

   She climbed the stairs ahead of him. He felt exhilarated and frightened as he watched her fleshy body climb on high heels, her backside at eye level, protected only by the corset, which by no means covered all of her body. He felt the surge of energy, which came from being committed to a course of action, and having to act like an actor on a stage. Even so he felt defensive. She was talking to him. Sensing his nervousness, she was trying to put him at ease. That must be part of her job. If the customers were not made to feel at ease they would be unlikely to come back. She was asking him if he had been here before. She did not recognise him. No he had never been here before. He did not wish to reveal he had never had sex before. That would be too embarrassing to reveal to a prostitute. Still he could not hide his nervousness. He felt awkward and his thoughts felt slow as they slid from his lips. She would be able to read him like a book. Perhaps that would be just as well.

    He thought hard, trying to think of something to say to make the conversation work. “Is it busy tonight?” he asked as casually as he could. It seemed to be a sensible question, and she answered, “No. As you can see there’s one customer apart from you at the moment, and only a couple since I started tonight.” She referred presumably to the man with the towel around his waist, whom they had passed as they came towards the stairs. “You’ll be my first tonight.” She was friendly, friendlier than the lady on the other end of the vidcall, when he had made his initial call. He felt himself lucky because he found attractive women, and women in general, daunting, and assumed they would be difficult to talk to. The messages he had received from vidfilms had taught him that women were dangerous to talk to, and had to be talked to in a smooth and impressive, confident manner. Women at work had always been distant, although usually polite, impossible to get close to. He was lucky and hoped she would be kind to him if he revealed his virginity.

     She led him down a corridor, between rooms with open doors, selecting her favourite room. “Choice of rooms tonight,” betraying a rare sense of humour which he was not used to. “This is the best – would you like to come in here?”

      He went in. there was a padded benchlike ‘bed’ in a carpeted room, a vidscreen in the corner and a shower compartment.

     “Would you like a shower?” she asked.

     He hesitated, showing his nervousness and indecision. “Do you normally like your customers to shower?” he asked, deferring submissively to her judgement.

     “I don’t mind, love. If you don’t want one its up to you.” He detected irritation in her impatience, but assumed it didn’t really matter to her, although she would probably prefer it if he did. She betrayed her low class by it.

     Aligning himself with what he assumed would placate her the most he said, “Yes thanks. I’ll have a shower. How does it work?”

    She explained the simple standard control and then left him to it, saying she would be back in a couple of minutes. She went out of the room, to where or for what reason he did not know, maybe just to give him privacy while he showered. Heart racing he opened the door to the shower, stepped in, and triggered the controls, grateful that it was warm and even temperatured. His penis became partially erect, despite his nervousness, with anticipation. He touched it to encourage it.

    Having showered he stepped out, and used the towel she had left to dry himself. His penis had gone flaccid again. Shortly she came in again. She asked him whether he wanted to start the massage on the front or back. He said he didn’t mind so she chose that he should lie down on his front. “Take your towel off,” she said. Following her instructions he took it off. That was no big deal. She did not take her corset off, but as he lay down her smooth hands brushed over his skin and he could feel her flesh. “Would you like oil or powder,” she asked. Again he deferred to her judgement. She suggested oil and he said he would try it. She began to rub the oil over him, into his flesh over his back and shoulders, his legs and his buttocks. Instantly he was excited, the mere touch of female hands over his body, such a new sensation to him, was very exciting. His penis began to respond immediately. It seemed so natural. This pleasure was so easy. Why had he been denied it so long.

    She began to talk to him. He wished she did not have to because he wanted to savour her touch, soft and vigorous, on his skin, but he could hardly have asked her to stop. Conversation was necessary to put him more at ease, or perhaps because she felt a need to communicate with her customers. In fact he found it diverted from his pleasure, and as she talked his penis went flaccid again, even as he enjoyed her touch. Nonetheless it was an interesting conversation and he did his best to concentrate on it, so that he would not appear too slow witted.

2/12/99 (17/4/05)

     Clarella found herself well able to cope with her work. She had a good memory and a good brain, but legal work was hard and demanding work. Nothing was straightforward in this harsh world of competition, high standards and complexity. She certainly felt the stresses of her work and disliked much about the system she was employed in. Vera and Julia, in particular had encouraged her realisation that the modern system was rotten and required improvement. Clarella represented one of the few who had taken control of their own lives. Clarella saw herself as independent, and while she had an image of motherhood and family in her dreams she had decided she would delay them. As time went on her career dominated too much. After Demus she had to be choosy in men, unable to determine which man she would like to settle with. She could not devote the small precious free time she had to less than the best. As a result she searched for the right man now, trying them out to some degree, enjoying the process in a way, unable to choose, but she was frustrated too. Where was the right man? It had been quickly time to move on from Calban. He was too lacking in confidence, not brash and outgoing enough to really gain her devotion. She soon realised he was not the man for her, just as others had failed her tests.