by Olivia Myers
Seeming not to notice Natalie’s blushes or discomfort, Moona continued, "Gosh, it seems like you've been working at the travel agency for ages, but it actually hasn’t been that long. Either way, I thought you'd have come here already at least once in your life. Everyone who's got even the slightest curiosity about sex or men, or men or sex, or even just sex, or just men, or women, or..."
"Moona!" Jackie said.
Moona winked. "Everyone just has to visit. I mean, it's New Saigon."
Jackie snorted. "Natalie's never come here at all—in any sense of the word! Remember? That's why we had to drag her here and why she refused to help with anything."
"I packed my own suitcase," Natalie said with dignity. She didn’t want to argue with them, but she doubted her friends would have allowed her to plan much if she’d offered. They seemed fully convinced that they knew this place so well they could plan it in their sleep.
"Only because I stood right over you until you did—and did it right!" Moona chided. "You have no idea how lucky you are, girl. We've managed to squeeze into this place during the Pleasure-Love Festival."
"Pleasure-Love Festival?" A laugh burst out of Natalie, loosening up the tightness in her gut that had been a constant companion since they'd left their home planet three days ago. "You're joking. What do they need a festival for when they're basically a city based on the industry of hedonism?"
"It's no joke. I suspect that's why the agency offered to pay for this trip. Bet you anything when we get back, they'll drill us about the whole experience at a luxury sex hotel and then have us put together a new festival package."
To Natalie's amazement, Jackie proceeded to shimmy into a transparent plastic pant suit that showed off her lack of underwear. "People come from star systems all around just to experience it for themselves. You must be utterly provincial if you haven't heard the legend, girl. How does it go? If you hook up with someone of a different race at the Pleasure-Love Festival and have the absolute best sex in your life, you will fall in love."
"That's ridiculous. Why another race? Why here?"
"Well, of course it's ridiculous, but it's thrilling, too, isn't it?" Moona sighed. "Human guys are sweet, but some of these alien races are knock-your-boots-off orgasmic! Mmm. You've got to try out the bed, Nat. It's unbelievably soft."
Natalie blinked. In the almost eleven months she'd known her, Moona, who was much older than either Jackie or Natalie, had never struck her as a sensualist, but now she stretched her limbs on the velvet duvet, her slightly plump, middle-aged body clearly enjoying every movement as it sank deliciously into the plush bed. Natalie envied her the ability to abandon herself like that. Sighing again, she wondered which pocket of her overnight kit held her toothbrush.
Jackie looked at her reflection in the window as she applied makeup to her small, cupid's-bow lips. "It's not ridiculous at all. I've been here at least five times and each time, I have the best sex in my life and I fall in love. Yummy love."
"That's not love! And it's a self-fulfilling prophecy," Natalie pointed out earnestly. "If the sex is that good, of course you're going to convince yourself you're in love."
"Self or not, that prophecy's a fulfilling one, all right." Jackie smiled at her reflection. "Ready to go, girls?"
"Go! We just got here!" Natalie gasped. "I need to unpack. Brush my teeth. Shower. Rest and relax for a while." Soak in the fact that I'm really here, in a city known for decadence. Me, Natalie Ellen Hicklepat. And somehow I need to come to terms with the surreal fact that I let these fun-loving ladies talk me into this trip.
"The flight wasn't that tiring, silly. You'd think you were as old as me." Moona jumped up and began tearing through her suitcase. "Where did I put that gold strapless....Hey, did you see those three built Jargottes watching us from the back of the ship? The gray one really thought you were cute, Natalie. He kept winking at you."
Natalie did blush at that. "I didn't notice. That's what I meant before. I'm not shy around you guys. It's men. And the exotic ones are so...well..."
"Exotic?"
"Yeah. I'm not a prude. I just like to know a man before I get close to him. Talk to him. Meet his family. And then, you know, if we're attracted to each other, I have no problem kissing him. But it takes me a long time to work up the nerve to talk to a guy. To relax enough. At least six or seven dates. Then..."
"That's what extra-potent drinks are for," Jackie yawned. "I'm starving here."
"New Saigon will be good for you," Moona assured her as they walked out the door not ten minutes after entering.
That's what I'm afraid of, Natalie didn't say. I'm not sure I want New Saigon to be good for me. Not at all.
***
"Well? What do you think?"
It was ten hours later. Moona and Natalie were back at the hotel, freshening up in their suite. Natalie would just as soon shower and collapse into bed, but Moona was flushed, happy, and obviously having a great time. It apparently didn't occur to her that Natalie might be ready to call it a day.
"I think we lost Jackie," Natalie said evasively.
"Didn't you see? She went for a walk along the shore with that guy from Aphena-2 Beta. Long hair. Red fur coat. The one who kept cutting in while she was dancing with the two clones from the Shoshun Belt."
Natalie's nose wrinkled. "You mean the guy with the ankle rings she met at dinner? Is that really safe?"
"Sure."
"But...she doesn't know him. What if she...what if they...."
"Don't you remember those med-checks we went through when we got off the ship? Everyone goes through that when a new ship arrives. And the locals are required to keep their health and civilian records at stellar rank. The success of the planet depends on it, right? Read a few of those brochures I linked to."
"But...but..."
"It's all safe. No diseases. No crime. Honestly, Nat, you think people would come here and really let loose if they couldn't put their worries behind them?"
"Well..."
"Mm-hmm. Just because you haven't put your worries behind you! Every time I look around, you're being quiet and doing your shy thing. You've barely talked to anyone."
"I told you. It's hard for me to relax."
Moona had already changed into two different outfits today. Now Natalie watched her change into a third. This one covered only one of her large breasts, leaving the other brown-tipped globe fully exposed. Natalie found herself struggling not to act shocked. It was getting only slightly easier after seeing some of the crazy, revealing outfits almost everybody wore in this town. Even the men commonly walked around shirtless. Pants, at least, stayed on...and for that, Natalie was intensely grateful.
"Honestly, if you would drink something...you haven't touched a drop of liquor, have you? Nobody abstains on New Saigon! I mean...it's New Saigon!"
I wish you'd stop saying that. "I keep telling you. You don't want to see me drunk," Natalie insisted. "I get maudlin. You think I'm anxious now? Give me a Hot Squat Purple Sunset and you'll really see me worry about stuff."
"Seriously? Okay, well, it's your vacation. As long as you're having a good time."
"Right."
But Moona didn't leave it at that. She lifted her eyebrows. "So tell me, now you've experienced a little of what New Saigon has to offer. What do you think of it all, really?"
Natalie opened her mouth. Closed it. How to say what she was thinking?
The hotel is overwhelming. The glittering gold and jewels hurt my eyes. The staff is too sly and suggestive. The whole place smells like a perfume swamp and my nostrils are numb. My swimsuit pinches and the treated water's cloying on my skin.
And I don't think I'm a bigot, but all these people from all these different planets are so strange. The males are the hardest to get used to. They're loud. They stare. They flirt. And yes, they turn me on. How can I stand there while a hunk of an alien sizes me up and not feel my nipples get hard and my sex get tight? But it's not a fun feeling—just a biological reaction.
/> This isn't a vacation. It's a gauntlet. And I don't think I'm up to the challenge. Help! I want to go home....
But all she said was, "It's different. Um, are you sure you want to go out again? I mean, we've already hit the pool and the ballroom and two restaurants and, well...I'm pretty beat. We've got—what—ten more days here? Plenty of time to...to fly loose and fast. Or however they say it."
"Are you kidding? New Saigon never sleeps. Why should we? Come on, girl! Let's go grab us some interplanetary tushie!"
***
Three days later, Natalie's slim, almost boyish frame lay sprawled out unconsciously on the bed, her short-cropped black hair a sleek array around her innocent-looking face. Jackie and Moona stared down at her, frowning.
"She's wiped out," Moona said. "Do you think she's had any fun at all?"
Jackie shook her head. "I can't believe she hasn't hooked up once. We've taken her to all the beaches. Introduced her to how many men?"
"Yes, and she barely said a word to any of them. She just closes up and gives 'em that polite "What-week-would-you-like-me-to-book-for-you" smile. I really thought the pleasure spa would do it. She wouldn't even go in the sauna. But I think she liked getting the massage by that Umwan nerve doctor. Did you see her all languid when she came out afterward?"
"Yes, but look at her now."
Moona felt bad for her. Natalie was such a provincial; maybe they'd made a mistake hauling her so far out of her comfort zone to New Saigon. Jackie thought she was hopeless, but Moona wasn't convinced. There was a fun-loving core to Natalie. Their coworker just had to learn how to access it.
Moona began to pace. "The problem is that shyness of hers. What if we tried....no, what if we went—wait! I have it! This place has an escort service, don't they?"
Jackie smirked. "Sure. It's the one they use in all the hotels around here. Hot, very hot, men. But are you serious? An escort—for Natalie?"
"We'll pick out someone she can't resist. Someone perfect for her, who'll force her to relax."
A sleepy voice came from Natalie’s bed. "What are you guys talking about?"
Guiltily, Moona and Jackie exchanged looks. "Um...."
Natalie sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Did I hear you say something about an escort service? You must have left your brain cells behind in the spa. You might enjoy going out every night with a different man. I'm glad you two are having fun. But I'm not going out with any escort. That's just blurky."
Moona giggled and tapped on her handset. "Nothing blurky about it, child. We're in New Saigon. It's all about feeling good. The people here want to make you feel good. Why not go with it?"
"They don't want to make me feel good. Escorts are just doing their job. That's not really romantic for anyone, is it?"
Jackie rolled her eyes. "You think they have to work here? There are plenty of other places to work. Escorts love their job. Everyone loves working here. Get out of your provincial mindset, will you? Pleassssure." She drew out the word huskily.
Natalie’s handset chimed and a link popped up, the holograph twirling.
"There you go," Moona said. "Look through that. And," she added firmly, "you're not stopping until you've picked out someone good and tasty."
"That's an order," Jackie added.
***
An hour later...
"I guess that guy looks okay. Shawn."
"He's a Resstessan. You sure you’re okay with that? I mean, he has scales and he's kind of green."
"But a nice green," Natalie said firmly. Then she squinted. "Although his eyes are sort of insipid. I'm not sure..."
Moona swished her hand in the air and the image shifted. "Here—this one. You keep coming back to this one."
"Him?" Natalie stared at the man's image. Narrow eyes. Dark brown skin. Silver hair. Angular face, especially the jaw and nose. Thick, arched brows. Too muscular. Lots of hair—almost furry on his chest and even his arms. He wore casual pants, a lot like the ones Natalie preferred. "He's a Katarian."
"Well, obviously. What's wrong with Katarians? They're totally humanoid, so you should feel comfortable. The ones I've met have been quite gallant. Almost old-fashioned."
"Those eyes are not humanoid."
"What's wrong with orange eyes? I think this one is sexy. What's his name? Kirk. Look at those lashes."
Natalie swallowed. "Didn't you tell me Katarians are very aggressive? That they don't take no for an answer?"
"It was Jackie who said that. She exaggerates," Moona assured her.
"'Katarians eat, breathe, and sleep sex,'" Natalie quoted. "I heard her. Even if she was exaggerating, even if they only half lived for sex, that's a bit much for a person like me, isn't it? And his eyes are gold, not orange. I don't like him."
"Now, Natalie, you really need to—"
"No, it'll have to be Shawn. He looks harmless." And at Moona's glare, "I mean it. He looks nice and sweet. I don't like men who are too...."
"Man-like?"
Natalie nodded, blushing.
"Well, then, what about a woman?"
Natalie's jaw dropped. She chuckled. "Point taken. I do like men, Moona. Just not—" she glanced back at Kirk, the Katarian, and shivered. "Just not men like that one."
***
Natalie showered before her date with the escort. As with everything here in New Saigon, it was no ordinary experience. Like everything else, the shower was scented, though by now Natalie's overstimulated nose couldn't even distinguish how it smelled different from the room or even the rest of the hotel. But the penetrating heat felt good on her skin and the swirling lights in the dark, steamy room danced about. The water seemed to come from a holo of a waterfall and made barely any sound above the ambient music, something lilting and exotic.
This place seemed determined to relax her.
Well, tonight she'd give it her best try. If it took every bit of self-control she had, she was going to have a good time. For once. It was only fair to Moona and Jackie, who'd gone to the trouble of arranging all this. And surely they were right that it would be good for her.
Her friends had gone to a new pleasure palace and warned Natalie they might not be back at all that night. A bit sadly, Natalie had watched them go, Moona swaying out of the room completely topless, Jackie covered chin to ankles, but with a form-fitting bodysuit masquerading as skin. Neither wore anything on their feet. Naked toes and chests seemed to be a thing here, for both men and women. Not that she could ever bring herself to dress—or, more accurately, undress—like that.
She padded naked out of the shower and began rummaging in the closet, biting her lip. Not that dress—too revealing. And that one—too frumpy. Too revealing, too revealing, too revealing. Didn't she have anything suitable for a platonic date?
She decided on a simple white dress. It was a bit form-fitting and made of some shiny fabric that was fancier than she remembered in the store, but it had a high, modest neckline. Unfortunately, it left her arms bare, which always made her feel vulnerable. She looked at herself in the mirror and frowned, because her face looked too pale and her short hair too black. Her skinny body had never had many curves, but no dress could change that.
Make-up. She hated wearing make-up and never bothered with it at work. She would not wear the stuff tonight. The last thing she needed was that uncomfortable sticky feeling on her face. She was already uncomfortable enough.
Still, she needed something. Surely it was bad form to meet an escort, even a hired one, in stark black and white.
She'd only brought one piece of jewelry with her, a simple gold chain necklace her father had given her when she was a girl. It hit in the wrong place, skimming the neckline of her dress. Oh, well. It would have to do.
Moona had arranged for her to meet her escort at a pleasure tavern just twenty minutes away from the hotel. Pleasure tavern. Pleasure waterpool. Pleasure restaurant. What she wouldn't give for a regular, non-pleasure anything....
The walk at least felt pleasant. All around her, people, light
s, and buildings sparkled. Moona had been right; this was a safe city, though it could hardly compare to her own hometown, which she never stopped missing...
Hesitating only a moment, she made herself take a deep breath and then entered the softly lit establishment. The air was breezy inside, moved by invisible floating airfans. The scents of spices and flowers drifted by. Sinuous dancers swayed to gently throbbing music. Everyone looked beautiful. Everyone had a drink in hand. Everyone looked happy.
This was going to be awful.
No. Stop that, she chided herself. She was going to have fun. Otherwise, what was the point?
She strode up to the bar, took a seat, and unobtrusively scanned the room. Shawn was a Resstessan, and so he'd be tall enough to stand out in the crowd. No sign of him. After a few minutes, she checked the time. Still early.
Waiting got harder.
And harder.
A few minutes later, sipping a glass of water, she glanced up as a shadow fell over her.
"Natalie?"
The voice was male, pleasingly deep and throaty, and spoke with an accent, as so many voices in New Saigon did. She looked up with a shy smile—and froze.
The man looking down at her was tall, but he was no Resstessan. He had a wide, extremely muscular chest coated with a heavy silver layer of hair, the same silver as the hair on his head, and a dark golden brown skin. And golden-orange eyes.
She knew those eyes.
Her own eyes widened.
"Are you Natalie?" he prompted, this time with a faint note of impatience.
She swallowed. "There's been a mistake. You're Katarian."
He smiled with his eyes, though she thought there was something wrong with that smile. "Mistake?" he said pleasantly.
"My name is Natalie, but I'm waiting for someone else. A Resstessan man named Shawn."
His expression tightened. She thought she wouldn't even have noticed it if she hadn't been studying him so hard. The sharp angles of his face were pulled into relief. "Yours was the image I was sent. I'm here as an escort for Natalie Hicklepat. That's you. There's been no mistake."
