Lustful Memoirs
By: Gina - gina@basic-nstynct.com
Chapter SixtyI hurried home from lunch, telling Brenda that I would be in touch that I wanted to talk to some people first, before I reintroduced her to JC. She agreed and we departed, hugging each other tightly for several minutes before walking to our cars. I entered my house in a mad dash, hurrying to change for the coming evening. At the rate I was going, I was going to be late. Marie had left a message while I was at lunch with the information about the client. It was a regular, no surprises. He was as constant as time, I would masturbate for him while he masturbated himself, then he would watch me shower, finally we would have sex, on the floor. I, on my knees, he behind me. The entire evening stretched out before me, causing my stomach to turn. I had no desire to be with this man, and yet no other option or choice.
I pulled off the clothes I had been wearing, dressing in the standard uniform that Marie required. Each movement I made was in slow motion the dread billowing up around me. I descended the stairs, checking my make up one last time. As I turned my head, I noticed the answering machine light. I had a new message. Part of me wanted to ignore it. Part of me had to know who had called. It wouldn’t have been Marie. She reached me on my cell phone. She wouldn’t have left a message. I approached the blinking red light, my stomach doing somersaults for reasons that I could not explain.
I pressed play, his soothing, comforting voice enveloping me, reminding me that in four short weeks, I would no longer have to cater to Marie. I would only have to cater to him. The thought thrilled me.
"Blake, honey. It’s J. I just wanted to call and see how your day was going. Thought you might like to hear this sexy voice of mine. I know you’re probably busy, and I don’t mean to intrude, but," his voice softened, "I was actually hoping to hear your voice. Take care of yourself. Call me if you need anything, or if you change your mind. Love you."
I rewound the message and played it again. I could hear every breath, could see his mouth move as he formed every word, could see his pout, could see his lips, could see the cocky grin and then the soft, unguarded one. I sighed, hoping to push the thoughts of him away, for just long enough to get me through the night ahead. I no longer wanted to think of him as these men had their way with me. I didn’t want to associate him with any of it. I wanted my mind blank, my body on autopilot. More then anything I wanted the four weeks to end quickly. I shook my head, turning from the machine and exited my house.
A half-hour later, I arrived at the hotel. The car lurched to a halt in front of the valet. I took a deep breath. The ride had been filled with conflicting thoughts and images: the life I had, the life I wanted, the man I was going to be with, the man I wanted to be with. Each negative was accented by a positive. But it didn’t stop the bile that burned the back of my throat, it didn’t stop the incessant pounding in my head, it didn’t stop my heart from squeezing, it didn’t stop my chest from constricting, it didn’t stop the battle ensuing inside of me.
I looked out the window, the valet giving me a quizzical look. It was the same look that I would have given him if our roles were reversed. He looked at me, asking me without words if I intended to get out of the car. I did, I was going to get out of the car. But as my hand reached to turn off the ignition. I couldn’t. Without a second thought, I took my foot off the brake, and hit the gas. The tires squealed at my departure. I made a left, leaving the hotel, leaving the client waiting, leaving that life. I could no longer do it. My mind wouldn’t allow it. My heart forbidding it.
I hadn’t a clue as to where I was going and I didn’t care. The only thing I knew is that I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be with that nameless, faceless man, the one who only cared about his needs and his desires. There was only one man that I wanted to be with. For that short time, I didn’t think about Marie, didn’t think about our agreement, instead I only allowed thoughts of him to pierce my consciousness. The first time I saw him, I couldn’t read his expression, his facial features meaning nothing to me then. But as I thought back to those expressions, I knew what they had been. He was guarded, unsure, and unhappy. He hadn’t wanted to see me, because he knew what I represented in his life. I was the control that management tried to exert over him. My thoughts returned to our first night together, he had been cold, callous, uncaring. His need to break me, to take his anger out on me. The image of him sitting on the balcony outside of his room, his eyes cast in worry for the friend that he had lost filtered through my mind. How I longed to reach and hold him, to comfort him that night. How I knew that he wouldn’t have let me. I saw him by the pool, his back reclining against the chaise that I sat in. We watched the sunset, his insecurities surfacing, his candidness surprising me. I remembered the night we spent together in that pool, the night I was three hours late meeting him. We had ventured into the cavern, our bodies reaching out to each other, his touch soothing, calming, the conceitedness replaced with genuine caring. I recalled the flirtatious manner that developed between us, his winks, the way he would deliberately run his tongue over his lips when he knew I was watching. The small touches and the subtle caresses lingered on my skin. I felt myself on the floor in my assigned room, a crumpled mess as my world shattered. I could see his legs dangling from the balcony roof as he vaulted to save me. His arms wrapping around me, willing the world away, stopping the tears. I could feel in my heart the love that had developed between us since that night. I could reach out and touch it, the intensity of his stares, the soft words he whispered. I remembered the first time he said the words, declaring that love for me. My heart did a somersault. He genuinely loved me, and I returned the emotion. Without realizing where I was driving, my thoughts too in tune to the man I longed for, I arrived at the hotel where he was staying. This time, I had no problem, no second thoughts, as I handed my keys to the valet.
I approached the desk, and then turned toward the elevators, knowing that had I asked the front desk staff wouldn’t tell me which room was his. I had to try my luck and hope that he remained in the one that I had seen him disappear into the night I had been hired to meet Joey. I took the elevator, the butterflies beginning to flutter in my stomach. Maybe I should call him, I thought before quickly dismissing the notion. I wanted to surprise him. The bell signaled the arrival of the car at the designated floor. I stepped off, making my way to the room I hoped he occupied. I timidly knocked, praying that it was his room, hoping that he wouldn’t mind. A few minutes passed without an answer. My watch continued to count time as the door remained still. I turned to leave, disappointment taking residence in every cell of my body.
Then I heard the click, the door squeaking open, the bottom scratching against the carpet, the sounds resonating through the empty hallway. My heart leaped, my stomach flip-flopped, perspiration formed on my palms. I had no idea why I was so nervous, and yet, I did. What if he didn’t want to see me? What if he had other plans? I turned, the doubts riddling my mind. However, I knew that they would be unfounded. I knew that I would turn and see his smile, I would turn and collapse into his outstretched arms. We would kiss. He would lead me into the room and surround me in his love. I knew that it would happen, if only he had answered the door. He did not. The image of the scowling figure in front of me sent chills through my body.
Jen stood before me, her face pulled into an emotion that I had never seen grace her normally serene features.
Shock, surprise laced her words as she uttered a single word, my name. "Blake."
I visibly faltered, the uncertainty billowing up through me. She was the last person I expected to open the door and as we stood, only feet separating us, I wondered if it would not have been better if JC, himself would have been standing there. I pulled a deep breath into my lungs, hoping to ease my nervousness, hoping to find my tongue, hoping to find the words I wanted to say. I glanced down at the carpet, my weight shifting from one foot to the other. I looked up again, avoiding her gaze. My line of vision darting behind her to look at the numbers emblazoned on the door. I was sure that this room was the one Justin had entered. I had assumed it was his. I must have been wrong.
"Jen," I could barely say her name, "I’m sorry. I must have the wrong room."
"Well, who are you looking for?" Her tone remained unreadable, yet her facial features softened, and I could see a change in her expressions. The shock and surprise was fading, replaced by something I still did not recognize, yet it wasn’t as standoffish as the other emotions I had seen there.
I smiled slightly, willing myself to act normally, casual, friendly. This was Jen. She was not the enemy, and though at that moment she might have thought that I was, I wouldn’t let it continue that way.
"I thought this was Justin’s room. But I’m actually glad that you answered. I’m glad that I have the chance to apologize for ruining your evening.
She returned my smile, the transformation continuing as her hazel eyes shown understanding and perhaps acceptance.
"I don’t blame you."
"I appreciate that but it doesn’t change how badly I feel about what happened. It was your night, it should have been special, not tainted."
"Nothing I share with Lance is tainted," I could hear the warmth seep into her voice as she said his name, "the evening went fine. JC acted like he's been acting lately, it doesn't even phase me anymore. But, I couldn't help but be surprised. I had no idea. We lived in the same house, and I had no idea."
Her final words were a whisper, the disbelief she relayed not only in her words but also in her voice. I didn't know how to respond other then to apologize once again. She took a deep, breath, exhaling slowly.
"Stop apologizing. Come in here, we have to talk."
She moved back into the room, holding the door, inviting me to follow. I entered, unsure of what to expect of the conversation, but thankful that she hadn’t just slammed the door in my face.
The room was set up in typical nondescript hotel room fashion. The large bed, the dark, cherry furniture, the blinds open letting the night peer in through the windows. The television was on, yet muted. Several books lay open on the bed, making a half circle.
"Were you busy, Jen? I don’t mean to interrupt."
"You aren’t. I was just looking through these wedding magazines. But believe me, looking at the guys’ schedule over the next year. I have time. These can wait. I really need to talk to you. Here, have a seat."
I sat as she suggested, confusion ebbing my mind. What did she want to talk about? Where was Lance? Where was Justin? What was going on? She offered me a bottle of water, and I gladly accepted, thankful to have something to do with my hands. The nerves that riddled me as I thought of surprising Justin were nothing compared to the full out terror that I felt as Jen sat down before me. Was she going to read me the riot act? Was she going to tell me that I was no good for Justin and I should leave and let him be? She liked me, she had said that Justin and my story would be like hers and Lance's. But that was before, that was before JC opened his mouth and informed every person seated around that table at dinner that I was a prostitute. The fact was now common knowledge, but it didn't change the way Justin felt about me. I wondered if it would change Jen's opinion of me. The room was quiet, still, as she collected her thoughts. I could only fidget with the cool bottle that was held between my fingers.
"Do you love him?"
She asked the question without apology. She wasn't going to beat around the bush. It eased my nerves to know that.
"Yes, I do." I was just as forthright.
"Are you going to continue working?" Another question rolled off her tongue with ease, without a thought or care of offending me. Her words and her worry for the man that I loved could never offend me. She wanted to protect him. I understood that, felt it myself from deep within me. The thoughts and feelings warmed my heart. Knowing that her questions centered around the concern she held for him, and not necessarily around my previous career choice further eased my nerves, until my heart stopped pounding into my ribcage and my breathing went from slow, short breaths, to deep penetrating inhalations and exhalations.
"No." It was the truth. I turned from that hotel, from that client, and I would not look back, and I would not go back. I was anxious to finish this conversation with Jen, anxious to find him, anxious to tell him, anxious to be with him.
"Good." The single word of acceptance, the single word of approval had been said. But she wasn’t finished.
"Blake, your past does not concern me, but your future does. Justin means the world to me. He is the reason that I am so happy today. He is the reason that Lance and I are together. I won't let him get hurt. If you make him happy, then I welcome you. But, be warned. If you hurt him, I won't be the only one to kill you, there will be a long line and a waiting list."
"I love him. I can’t begin to describe for you how much. And I promise, with all that I am, that I will do my best to keep him happy. I won’t sit here and tell you that we will never argue or that we will always agree, but I do sit here and tell you that I love him, I respect him. He has shown me so much and offered me so much. I still have to pinch myself to believe that he wants to be with me. I will do my best to keep his heart safe, to hold it in my hands and protect it, from everyone."
She shook her head and laughed. I looked at her, expecting some sort of explanation for the laughter.
"I’ve already seen your protective streak. I don’t want to be on the receiving end of that. That’s all I wanted to hear Blake. I told you, he’s special to me. But he’s also sensitive and naive. When he loves, he loves completely, without a second thought. It gets him hurt. I, like you, don’t want to see the pain of heartache in his eyes ever again. You make him happy. I can see it in his eyes when you are near. I can hear it in his voice when you are not. I’m glad that you won’t be leaving him again. His whining is enough to make me kill him."
It was my turn to laugh, before my thoughts once again turned serious.
"There is one other thing, Jen." With my words, her expression sobered. She met her gaze with my own.
"What is it?"
"You know, Lance and I never..."
She stopped me before I could finish the thought.
"Oh, Blake, I know. I have far too much trust in Lance to ever think that. I spent too much time in the beginning of our relationship questioning him. He never gave me a reason to, I just did. After awhile I realized that I was wasting too much time. I vowed to never do it again. I didn’t even ask him about it when we got back from dinner. We talked about you, but not about what you do or did for a living. I don’t think it matters. Lance doesn’t think it matters. We both know that Justin loves you, that he sees something in you that makes him happy. It isn’t for us to question him or to judge you. What you’ve done in the past isn’t our concern. If he is okay with it, then we support him. But we do feel as though he needs our protection, which is what prompted this conversation. But, really, I’m starting to think that he doesn’t need our protection any longer. After last night, I believe you are all the security he needs."
She smiled at me as she finished her thoughts. I was thankful that her and I had that time to spend together. She made me feel at ease, made me feel welcome. The nerves dissipated.
"I appreciate you saying that Jen. And I appreciate Lance’s thoughts as well. I don’t want to cause any problems between those five. I can see how close they are. Anything that happens to one ripples and effects them all. I don’t want to be the cause of that wave."
"There is only one thing causing that wave right now, and it’s coming like a typhoon. But I assure you it isn’t you. Now, come on, don’t you want to see that man of yours?"
I shook my head yes, trying in earnest to withhold my enthusiasm. I couldn’t wait to see him, couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when he saw me.