by Barbra Novac
Soon, however, the two men touching her rose up out of the ground. Straight from the shower clean, they moved over the top of her, slowly and gently removing her clothes. Chloe felt the hands on her body, the two men leaning over her, kissing and moving downwards toward the cleft between her legs.
Mmmm… Her imagination drove her wild. In the beautiful space of the clear day in her mind, the two men tantalised her, pleasured her, acting as men rarely do. Gentle, beautiful caresses. Not like a woman’s but like a man with peace in his heart.
Chloe woke suddenly to find her pussy wet, and she was moved almost to tears. The dream she’d had was so real and so far from her consciousness that she almost felt it had to be a vision. The men were so good to her, knew just how to touch her, took her in ways she’d barely dreamed of. Something unfulfilled was speaking to her, trying to wake up in her. This was more than a vision. This was something from another consciousness that Chloe hadn’t recognised in herself before.
As if it isn’t hard enough to find a good man. Now I have to go and fantasize about two men who are actually incredible.
But the dream had shaken Chloe, making her feel that more was out there than she thought possible. She felt invigorated and didn’t care, for just a moment, that she didn’t fit in out there in the real world. The feeling inside her needed to be channelled to her art.
Moving to the design room, Chloe worked for a while on the Eva Peron costume she’d started earlier. The creative energy flowed through her as if it poured out of the vision that she’d had. Chloe worked like this for two hours before she started to feel hungry and noticed that she hadn’t really settled in tonight as per her usual routine.
Chloe hopped into the bath, not sure of the outfit she’d be wearing that night. Her energy and thoughts were scattered. Gary popped into her head, and nothing killed the inspiration more than the vision of him telling her that she needed him to save her from the artistic world. As she played the words he’d spoken over and over in her head, her old fears and doubt crept in again.
After her bath, Chloe applied makeup and ate a little food. Then she slipped into her Daisy Buchanan dress à la The Great Gatsby and decided to go online. Tonight, going online felt cheap, as if she were a whore to the whole game of who she really was.
In the chat room, Chloe had a sense of being with false people. She didn’t read and watch with warm and friendly eyes. She felt that she saw the people in her world for the first time. Where once her games held her attention and magnified her lust, they now oozed sleaze, as if Gary had been in her apartment and seen exactly what she did. His gaze stole her world.
She trolled the Net a little, soon seeing with open eyes that all the folk who lived in the online world lived a fantastic lie. Witches or Jedis or vampires or some strange type of folk addicted to their own nonsense games.
It all confused her. These chat rooms turned dull to her, and she wanted something out of the ordinary. At least she thought she did.
She let her mind slip into a dark place. The striking imagery of the two men had worn off. Chloe started to rationalise it away. It couldn’t happen anyway, she told herself miserably.
* * * * *
James sat in the English literature study, editing a paper he’d promised to return within a week to an intellectual friend in Slovenia. Ahead by three days, at this pace, the paper could be returned well before the deadline.
He paused from his writings for a moment to watch the shadows of the descending sun across the manicured lawn. The last few days blurred past. The completion of his work, mostly due to the fact that he’d taken fewer hours’ sleep, working instead, could partly be attributed to the fact that Max had so embraced the idea of finding a woman that James had almost lost him to the Internet.
Each day, they went about their tasks, running the farm, working the loom, making sure everything was in its place. As soon as they’d finished the final meal of the day, Max raced to the computer, still in his dinner jacket, donned a mask, and talked to women.
James couldn’t be happier. Max seemed lighter already. The idea was the right one, James had thought about it for a while, and he’d been able to bring it up at exactly the right time.
James heard the bell for dinner. Knowing he’d be returning to his work soon, he left everything sitting at the desk.
Food lay on the table waiting for them both to enjoy. The kitchen staff did a wonderful job, but on these less-complicated nights, they liked to leave as soon as the bell for dinner rang. A rare occasion, Max and James found themselves in the house alone.
Max came down the stairs with a gentle dance in his step. He looked gorgeous. He liked to wear his dress jacket and pants even when alone. James wore his jeans and a T-shirt. Max could never get James into the formal gear Max loved so much.
Max paused to kiss James and sat at his place. Immediately, he started to scoop food onto his plate.
“How goes it, man? What have you found up there?” James started to collect food from the various plates in front of him.
“I know you haven’t seen much of me, and that will change. But you were right about getting us a woman. I haven’t found us one yet, but I know she’s out there. I can feel her, James. I can feel her.”
“So you’re not uncomfortable about the idea?”
“Not at all. You were right. The timing’s perfect, and all we’ve got to do is make it happen. It took me a while, but I think you’re on the right track encouraging me to do this.”
Max paused, ate some salad, and looked over at James thoughtfully. He then continued. “How do you feel about this idea now? Does it seem like the right thing to you still?”
“Yeah. I know it’s the right thing. Maybe we’ll love her, maybe we won’t, but either way we need a woman who is more than a casual thing for us. She’ll add to what we’ve got going here already. We won’t have it any other way. Maybe we’ll both get to be fathers.”
Max smiled his warmest smile at James and reached out for his hand. “I’ll find her for us. I’ll find the woman we need, and I’ll get your approval. Then I’ll go and get her, and bring her back here.”
“Be smart about this, Max. It may take a while to find her, and then it may take a while to convince her that the way of life we offer is the right one. This project may outlast your enthusiasm.”
“Yeah, I know. Let’s just see how long this takes.”
* * * * *
Hello?
Chloe jumped at the flash on the screen. A man online wanted to talk to her. He had a camera, and though the image appeared blurred and dark, she could make out that he wore a handsome dinner jacket, shirt, and bow tie. He had a mask on -- the kind one wears to a costume ball. The black mask on the tanned skin set off the shock of black hair that he’d managed to tame into place. Not only did he appear handsome in the poor light, but striking too. Chloe reminded herself the Internet deceived when it came to image. It could make the ugliest people beautiful and the most beautiful people ugly.
Hey there! Can you see me? the man typed again.
Chloe worried that she’d had her webcam on all this time, but a quick check told her she had set it on blurred so she couldn’t be seen properly. But the stranger knew she was an actual person, not a game character.
The man typed, I can see you, though your webcam is blurry, but it’s okay. I have the premium version of this game. On my screen, your character has the red halo that signifies a real woman…er…or man. Whoever this was, he was reading her mind.
Chloe laughed. So you can tell I’m human, but not what sex I am? she typed back.
Not that well. You have a fantastic Roaring Twenties dress on, but I can’t tell if you’re really a flapper, or…well…perhaps you could be anyone pretending to be a flapper.
Smiling, Chloe fixed the camera so that it was in focus. Sorry about that. I like to keep a little mystery in these matters. Sometimes folks want to follow me around, and that can get strange, so it’s better to remain a little anony
mous.
Do you have sound? he typed.
He wanted to hear her voice. What the hell? How could she get into any more trouble today?
Sure, she typed. She made the adjustments to include sound. Now they were standing in a futuristic town, actually talking to each other.
“That’s better,” the man said. “You have a nice voice.”
He had a nice voice too. It had warmth in it beneath the snobby Australian accent.
“So do you. Can I ask you a question?”
“Shoot,” he replied.
Chloe wasn’t in the mood to play games, and this was the best way to weed out the kind of man she had no time for at the moment. “What do you think about having an affair with two men at the same time who not only knew about each other, but were happy to make love to each other as well?’
The man looked so shocked that Chloe though she must have been out of line. He seemed truly, deeply surprised by her question. Maybe it was a tad early, Chloe thought.
“I think it is a great idea, if all three parties agree,” he stammered. “I find it an unconventional line, but a healthy one. Is that the answer you were looking for?”
“It is the answer I was looking for, but I don’t think it’s an answer that opens up a possibility for life.”
“Why not?”
“Where am I going to find a man who is interested in that? Let alone two men. And I am really fussy. I don’t want to be mercilessly attacked because he’s had a bad day, nor do I want to give up my creating because he wants dinner. You see, anonymous stranger, I am very hard to please. This will have to be a superman, and I want two of them.”
“It sounds like you are a woman who knows exactly what she wants.”
“Ha ha ha… Then I have you totally fooled!”
“What makes a woman, dressed to the nines, ask a total stranger that kind of question right off the bat?”
“I’ve had a shit day.”
“Tell me all about your shit day, ma’am.”
And so Chloe sat back, relaxed with her wine, and told her masked stranger all about her day.
Chapter Nine
It didn’t take long at all for Max to find a woman. After dinner, James had been at his books for a couple of hours when Max called out from the top of the stairs to James to come see her.
James ran up the stairs. Max met him in a warm, masculine embrace at the top. “Okay, I’ve found her. At least, I think she’s perfect. Come and take a look.”
James followed Max to the computer. There on the screen was the most beautiful woman James had ever seen. Her bobbed hair shone black, almost as if it were streaked with blue. She wore a silver band around it that perfectly matched her silvery flapper dress. Her round eyes -- heavily made-up in the Roaring Twenties style -- were pale grey, setting off the pale, translucent skin of her face and neck. Her bright red lipstick highlighted her full rosebud mouth, and she’d added a small but obvious beauty spot at the base of her right cheek.
“My God, she’s beautiful!”
“I know! I’ve been talking to her for the last few hours. Shall I try to meet her? What do you think?”
“Is she clever enough?”
“No tertiary, but other than that, she may be a little too clever. Her conversation is marvellous. Guess what the first thing she asked me was?”
“What?” James smiled. The woman was beautiful, and a stunning kind of enthusiasm filled Max.
“The first thing she asked was how I feel about a woman who wants to be with two men.”
James turned to Max in shock. “No way.”
“Yeah, she’s creative, talented. She has an American accent, so I’m not sure where she lives. I wanted your approval before I get into specifics.”
James leaned in. She was typing and looking up at the computer. “Can she see me?” James asked.
“No. I told her I had to hop off-line for ten minutes. I turned the camera off. She can’t hear us either.”
“You know, she looks a lot like the picture we’ve got of the woman who ran away.”
Max leaned in for a better look. “Do you think so? Maybe it’s just the costume.”
“Come and have a look.”
They men ran downstairs to the library where a framed photograph of the party weekend at Norman Lindsay’s hung. Twenty-five people smiled up at the camera from a frozen moment in time. James looked briefly at the picture of D.H. Lawrence standing next to Katy Mansfield. The two at the front were always the focal point of the photograph.
This time, James looked past the famous people for the little woman -- barely eighteen years old -- standing slightly to the side at the front. Her dress was very similar to the one the girl on the Net wore; however, that was consistent with the style in 1922.
James caught his breath. He held the picture out to Max. Max took it and looked at her. Her face wasn’t so visible, but the hair. The exact same black hair cut in a bob made the two women appear the same.
Max carefully placed the picture back on the mantle. “This is her, James. This is our woman. She’s come to rescue me and to set both of us -- no, all of us -- free.”
Both men turned to walk upstairs.
“How are you going to handle this? Will you just invite her over?” It now seemed very important they play their cards right. Somehow this fantastic look-alike who wanted two men had dropped into their laps, and James knew they’d not be able to find another one as perfect a fit as her.
“Well, I was going to. I want to ask her here. We’ll put on a huge dinner and welcome her and…”
“I’m not sure. Will she go for that sort of thing?” James cursed inside himself. He knew nothing about women.
“I don’t know. Why don’t I talk to her for a while and work it out? We may have to find a way for her to warm to both of us.”
Chapter Ten
Chloe sat in the bar glancing at her watch. She’d arrived early, at five ten p.m., itching to get out of there early and get home to talk to her new friend online again. She was so excited by the prospect that it even pushed thoughts of her work out of her mind for the day. She had thought of so many things that she wanted to ask him.
But this meeting, she hoped to catch up with Susannah who, Chloe glanced at her watch, was supposed to have been there at four thirty p.m. Chloe tried her cell but found it switched off. Thinking she’d leave a message and get home again, she was halted in her actions by the vision of Gary walking toward her.
Chloe avoided his eyes hoping he’d walk right by, but he didn’t. He slumped down at her table, taking the chair opposite without being invited. “Well, well, well. Look who’s here?” His voice sounded icy to Chloe, but guarded also. “I’m surprised you don’t want to get home so fast tonight.”
“I was about to text Susannah because I seemed to have missed her. I’m on my way out the door, because you’re right, I can’t wait to get home.” Gary started at the empty table in front of him. He seemed to be thinking something through.
“You know, maybe I should just come to your house anyway. How would you like that? Is that the kind of attention you are looking for? Why can’t I walk you home? What do you do in that apartment at night that no one else is allowed to know about?”
Chloe looked at him, horrified. “Gary, how can I make this clearer? I don’t want you. I will never want you. And I never want to have to say this to you again. And if I ever catch you anywhere near my home, I will call the police.”
Chloe saw that dark, hungry violence move into his eyes again, and she finally accepted the fact that Gary couldn’t be trusted. It was all over. Without having ordered a drink, Chloe stood; walking away from the table, without saying good-bye, she could feel his eyes burning into her back.
On her way home, spooked by what she had just heard and witnessed, Chloe kept looking behind her to check on what might be coming her way. But the streets bustled with the usual folk making their way home after work.
When she finally arrived home, she
slammed the door shut, shutting Gary and that problem out of her life for the rest of the evening. No matter what problems lurked deep in her psyche, Chloe knew that he could not answer any of them. This man represented a whole new set of problems, and definitely not problems she could solve.
After running her bath, she dipped herself into the steaming water, which she used to wash away the filth of another day. She needed to expel the dirt of the streets and the city air that clung to her. But she also needed to be rid of the dirt of doing a job that bored her and stole her spark. She wanted no more of the dirt of Gary and his strangeness. An end to the dirt of confusion and worry about the direction her life was taking. Chloe knew that part of what Gary said to her was true, but Gary’s strangeness had in a way saved her from actually having to confront and deal with what he’d initially suggested.
Chloe took this up with her new online friend an hour or so later. Dressed in a beautiful silk Japanese kimono of her own design, she put the questions of the direction her life should take to Max.
“The real issue here,” Max said to her, “is do you really live or do you only dream to live?”
“You mean do I really live in one of the worlds only? Immerse myself into one particular reality?”
“Yes. Every choice involves risk, even if it is simply the risk of missing out on the thing you didn’t choose. You will have to choose the life of the artist, or you will have to choose the life of the everyday worker who lives out her existence. There is no judgement here. There are advantages and disadvantages to both types of lives. But, as Sartre would say, you are free. Choose.”
“But I run from the consequences of those choices in both worlds.”
“No, actually you run from perceived consequences in both worlds. You don’t actually know what is going to happen if you embrace your art or reject it. But Chloe, can I ask you a question?”
