Club Fantasy

by Joan Elizabeth Lloyd

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “The fantasy he wants would only require a good hand job.”

  “Come on, Chloe. I’m not going to be paid for a hand job. Period.”

  “I knew that would be your answer so I haggled a bit with him. He’s willing to pay five hundred.”

  “Dollars?”

  “He’s got the money and he’s hot to spend it. He wants his fantasy and his movie.”

  “Five hundred dollars?” Jenna’s mind was blown. She had never anticipated that men would be willing to pay that kind of money for sex. Actually, not even really for sex. But the amount of money couldn’t matter. She wasn’t a whore. No way. “Why me? I make dirty movies. I don’t participate. Why not hire a call girl?”

  “Several people have commented on your ability to relax people, talk to them about their desires. He’s really nervous about this whole thing and he thinks you’d help him stay calm.”

  “That’s bullshit.”

  “Actually, it’s not bullshit at all. I’ve listened to you with couples and you’re great at finding out what they want to do and expanding their horizons, increasing their enjoyment. He’s fastened on that. He says he wants a real person, not a hooker.”

  “But I’d be a hooker. And, anyway, I don’t want my face in some porno movie.”

  “I talked to him about that and he agreed that he needn’t be able to see your face in the film. From the neck down would be okay.”

  “No way. Sorry.”

  “Okay, I’ll tell him no.” She sounded disappointed, then added, “Maybe I could wait until tomorrow. Let you give it some thought. Will you agree not to say no until tomorrow?” Chloe wheedled. “Come on. It’s not really prostitution.”

  “It’s not? How did you come up with that thought?”

  “Okay, maybe it is in a way, but what’s the harm?”

  “What’s the harm?” That was the line that got her into the erotic videography business in the first place. “It’s illegal and dangerous.”

  “It’s fulfilling a need that men have. Instead of dinner and a movie, it’s cash. I repeat, what’s the harm?”

  “God, Chloe. You’re quite a piece of work.”

  “Think until tomorrow?”

  “Okay. I won’t say no until tomorrow.”

  Chapter 6

  “Have you given the whole deal much thought?” Chloe asked the following evening as the two women settled in the kitchen when Chloe arrived home from work, her usual take-out bag from the local Chinese restaurant in her hand.

  “Much thought? I’ve thought about little else.” Jenna hadn’t had an assignment that day, and it had been raining steadily so she’d had little to distract her. Her mind had been churning for twenty-four hours. Half of her was appalled, half titillated. She was proud of the former, horrified by the latter.

  “Have you decided anything?”

  “It should still be no,” Jenna said.

  “But?”

  “Okay, I’m intrigued and the money is difficult to pass up.”

  Chloe’s face brightened and she set the bag on the table. “So? Talk to me.”

  “First, tell me why this seems to be so important to you. Why do you want me to get involved in this—thing?” She couldn’t find a word she liked for the activities she was contemplating.

  “I think you’ll enjoy it.”

  “Not enough reason for you to care.”

  Chloe batted her eyelashes. “You’ll make a buck?”

  “Don’t pull the cutsie face on me, Babe. I won’t be charmed. Why?”

  Chloe’s shoulders rose and fell. “Okay. Because I’ve already done it.”

  “Done what? Gotten paid for hand jobs?”

  “Gotten paid for sex. Here, in this house.”

  “You’re nuts.”

  “I’m broke, Jen. I can’t seem to control my credit card and a guy offered me money to use me and the motel room.”

  Jenna couldn’t focus. “When?”

  “About a week ago. The night you had a date with the guy from the advertising agency.”

  Horrified, Jenna said, “You let some paying stranger into our house and fucked him for money?”

  “You came home with that date and fucked him, didn’t you?”

  Jenna’s voice sharpened. “It’s not the same and you know it. Jeremy was a date, someone I knew. If we made love it was our business.”

  “Chris was a guy I knew,” Chloe snapped, “and if we made love and I took cash, it was my business.”

  Jenna tried to calm herself. “In that you’re right. What you do is none of my business. What I do is.” She deliberately crushed her negative feelings. Some of what Chloe said made sense. For Chloe. But for her? “I’m sorry. I guess I’m yelling as much at myself for even considering this.” Jenna, stalling for time, opened the refrigerator and pulled out a Sam Adams for each of them. She put the two bottles and two glasses on the table. “This whole thing confuses and worries me, even more now with what you just told me.”

  Chloe unpacked the plastic bag, spreading small white containers over the table. “Okay. What worries you? Last week was a spur of the moment thing and since then I’ve been thinking about it a lot too. Shoot.”

  “You were alone and that’s really dumb.”

  Chloe had the good grace to look chagrined. “You’re right and I realized it as we walked in. Fortunately, he was a nice guy, but I’ll never do that again.”

  “Good. Where did he come from?”

  “He’s a friend of a friend of Frank’s.”

  “Not good enough.”

  “True.”

  Chloe looked so apologetic that Jenna relented. “Doesn’t Frank mind you making love to his friends—or friends of his friends? Or doesn’t he know?”

  “He knows and he doesn’t seem to care. Neither of us is exclusive and it seems to be a boost for his ego to have others tell him how good I am.” She winked. “And I’m dynamite.”

  Jenna couldn’t suppress her grin. “I’m sure you are. But we have to be careful. If we do this thing, the scariest part is that people will know this address but we’ll still be living here. It seems really dangerous.”

  “I don’t think it is. These are all friends and acquaintances of Frank and his crowd. Think of it this way. To be able to spend that kind of money, they won’t be rapists and druggies.”

  “I guess. Did you use condoms? The whole idea of AIDS and such scares the shit out of me. Can we insist that any guy use one? Can we make it mandatory?” She heard herself talking as though she was actually thinking about doing it, and was appalled.

  “I don’t see any reason why not. After all, we’re making the rules here.” She put four egg rolls on a plate in the middle of the table.

  “I don’t do drugs!”

  Chloe looked horrified. “Of course not. Neither do I.”

  “If I entertain this guy, I can call it off at any time.”

  “I told him that and he says that’s okay. Nothing kinky will happen unless previously agreed.”

  “You’re talking like this is going to be some kind of an ongoing business. I’m only thinking of this one guy.”

  Chloe got plates and napkins, then sat down. “Why not make it a business? There must be lots of guys out there willing to pay for someone to fulfill fantasies and maybe having a film of it afterwards. Lord knows there are enough women making a living in the sex business. Why not us?” She pulled the paper wrapper off her chopsticks.

  “Stop it, Chloe. I’m not a prostitute and neither are you.”

  “Okay. Call it what you will.” She waved her chopsticks in the air to emphasize her points. “Call it the Society for the Fulfillment of Fantasies and Payment of Taxes. Here’s how I see it. We do an interview beforehand and find out what the guy is like and exactly what he wants. That way we can decide whether or not to take the job. If we agree to do it, we set things up as close to his desires as we can. We’ll make his fantasy real and he’ll pay big buc
ks for it. If we can manage it and he’s willing to pay extra, he can have a movie too. I would do this first one but he wants a tall brunette. I could do the brunette part with a wig, but I’ll never manage tall.”

  Jenna’s laugh was forced. “I don’t know. You make it sound so reasonable but the taboo is really strong. I’m just a small-town girl at heart.”

  “Listen, Jenna. If you don’t want to do this I can find someone else, do it somewhere else. I just want to do it for the guy and get a finder’s fee. I don’t want you to feel that you’re being pressured into anything.”

  “Right,” she said dryly. “You’re not pressuring me.”

  “Okay. Just a bit.” She picked up an egg roll and took a bite.

  Jenna put a sparerib on her plate. “I’ll admit I’m intrigued. I came to New York wanting some variation in my life, some sexual adventure. I needed to get away from Glen and boring sex. I just never considered anything like this.”

  Chloe grinned and took another bite of her egg roll. “I’m sure you didn’t. I told the guy I’d give him a call this evening, although he’s got nowhere else to go for his fantasy.”

  “I know there must be other high-class call girls. Can’t someone else do this?”

  “I’ve asked around and there doesn’t seem to be anyone else who specializes in fantasy fulfillment.”

  “Fantasy fulfillment. Beside tall and brunette, what does he want? The hooker in the motel room thing again?”

  “No. He wants you to be a doctor and give him an exam and, eventually, a hand job.” When Jenna looked a bit bewildered, Chloe continued, “It’s a common men’s fantasy. Going to the doctor and having someone fondle his penis and balls makes some men crazy. Since they can’t do anything about it right then, it sticks with them and becomes the center of some wonderful nights of masturbation. Don’t you read porn?”

  Jenna felt herself weakening. “Not as much as I should if I’m going to do this, I guess.”

  Chloe jumped at her words. “Then you’ll do it?”

  “This one seems pretty harmless. All we have to do is set up one of the rooms upstairs to look like a doctor’s exam room.”

  “It seemed a pretty good way to try this thing out. Are you willing?”

  “I guess so,” Jenna said.

  Chloe raised her glass of beer. “To fantasies. To the Society for the Fulfillment of Fantasies and Payment of Taxes.”

  Jenna clinked her glass against Chloe’s. “To Club Fantasy.”

  Jenna insisted on talking to Collin Shaw, the man whose fantasy they were going to fulfill, on the phone the following evening. She quickly discovered that he was sweet, a bit shy, unmarried, lonely and quite rich. He could certainly afford to have his fantasy fulfilled, which he outlined in amazing detail.

  The two women began to work on an empty room. They rented a narrow massage table and placed it in the center, then papered the walls with medical diagrams they printed from the Internet. They took a small dresser and covered it with a white cloth, then topped it with jars, bottles and boxes, all containing items that resembled what one would find in a doctor’s exam room. They moved a borrowed, standing scale into the corner and taped a height chart behind it.

  After spending hours with the Yellow Pages, a book that was becoming like an old friend, Jenna found a wonderfully helpful man named Manny Grossman whose shop, MG Props and Costumes, rented or sold almost everything theatrical, specializing in satisfying the needs of the many off- and off-off-Broadway shows. She explained that she was going to fulfill a fantasy for her boyfriend and he gave her directions.

  When she arrived at the two-story warehouse in Queens, she found a treasure trove of items, taking mental notes of the inventory for future fantasies. Future fantasies? Was she really thinking of doing this again as a business? Well, she reasoned, it wouldn’t hurt to be ready. She’d made no decisions. Yet.

  She puttered around the cavernous storage areas then, in a back room filled with pipe racks of costumes of every type, she found a short nurse’s uniform that would certainly do for her doctor persona. After she stated her specific needs to Manny, he found a stethoscope and blood-pressure cuff, which he actually knew how to use. After he showed her how to wrap the cuff around the patient’s arm, he suggested adding a hospital-type cover-up for her boyfriend. Somehow, the way he suggested it, she thought that he suspected something else. “You can get rubber gloves at any large drugstore and maybe a thermometer.”

  “Good idea,” Jenna said. “Anything else you can think of to set the scene?”

  “See whether you can find a roll of wide white paper. I’m afraid I don’t have one I can sell you, but you can get them at big art stores or, if you have access, you can get roll ends from newspapers. Use it to cover the table. You can also pour some alcohol on a few cotton balls to create that doctor’s office smell. Odors set the mood more than anything else.”

  “You seem to know a lot about fulfilling fantasies.”

  “That’s what good theater is, creating a fantasy that the audience can climb into. If it’s done well, of course. You look like the kind of woman who always wants to do it right.”

  “Thanks for the compliment and the help. I’ll have all this stuff back by Friday.”

  “Oh, and don’t worry about washing anything. I send everything out to be professionally cleaned or laundered before I put it back in stock.” As she was leaving with her props, Manny yelled, “Have fun.”

  “I will,” Jenna yelled back. And, amazingly enough, she thought she probably would.

  Collin was scheduled to arrive at eight that evening and by seven-thirty Jenna was dressed. She wore the stark white uniform with white, thigh-high stockings and white shoes with heels so high that no real doctor would be able to stand on them for more than a few minutes. Following Manny’s advice, instead of perfume, she dabbed rubbing alcohol behind each ear. She had pulled her hair back in a tight chignon and fastened it with only three pins, which she could remove to let her hair fall loose when and if she wanted.

  She had discussed her makeup with Chloe and the two women had agreed that it should be professional yet sexy. She’d used a soft shade of lipstick, but lots of eyeliner and mascara. She’d even found an old pair of sunglasses, removed the plastic lenses, then perched the empty frames on the bridge of her nose. She’d looked at herself in the full-length mirror on the back of her bathroom door. Not bad, she thought. Very well done if I do say so myself. To complete the look, she picked up the stethoscope and draped it around her neck the way she’d seen doctors do on TV.

  They’d set up the camera in the corner of the “doctor’s office” where it would focus on the table. She would make every effort to keep her back to it.

  She had just wandered into the hall when she heard the doorbell ring and the front door open. “Yes?” Chloe said, her voice very professional.

  “I’m Collin,” a soft voice said. “Collin Shaw.”

  “Of course, Mr. Shaw. The Doctor is almost ready for you. Why don’t you sit down?” Jenna and Chloe had agreed that anticipating the “appointment” would only make it more delicious, so Jenna knew that Chloe would seat him in the living room and hand him a magazine. Several minutes later, Chloe said, “I’m sure it will only be another few minutes.”

  “Of course,” Jenna heard Collin say, his voice obviously trembling.

  Finally, about fifteen minutes after Collin had arrived, Jenna called down, “You can send in the next patient, Ms. Mallory.”

  “Of course, Doctor. Mr. Shaw, you may go up now.”

  Jenna heard rustling, then footsteps as Collin climbed the stairs. When he arrived at the third-floor landing, Jenna got her first look at him. He was about forty, average height, with glasses and a small moustache. He wasn’t handsome, but he had a friendly, open face with a dimple in his chin. He wasn’t at all what she had expected, even after their phone conversation, but then what had she expected? Some degenerate with rotting teeth and dirty fingernails? She mentally slapped h
erself. “Mr. Shaw?” The man nodded. “Go into the exam room and remove all your clothes. You’ll find a gown on the exam table. Put it on with the opening in the front. I’ll be with you in a moment.” She motioned him toward a door, on which she had hung a sign saying Exam Room 1.

  Collin looked her over thoroughly, from her high-heeled shoes to her slicked down hair, to her long, red fingernails. “Yes, of course,” he said, his face flushed and his breathing raspy.

  Jenna waited two minutes, and then followed Collin into “Exam Room 1.” He was sitting on the edge of the narrow table, his naked legs hanging out from under his short, blue-patterned gown. She modulated her voice so it sounded lower and more businesslike than her usual speech. “Good evening, Mr. Shaw. I’m sorry, but Dr. McCoy had an emergency,” she said, remembering the name of Collin Shaw’s regular doctor. “I’m Dr. Oakes and I’ll be doing your exam today.” Jenna had chosen the name Hillary Oakes for her sexual persona. It tickled her that if you said H. Oakes together it sounded like hoax. “If you’ll just lie back, I’ll try to make this as easy for you as possible. I understand this is just a routine checkup. Have you been having any problems?”

  Collin took a breath as if to actually answer her question, then sighed and stretched out on the table, pulling the gown closed over his belly and half-erect cock. “Nothing special.”

  “That’s fine. Let me take your blood pressure.” She wrapped the cuff around his upper arm and placed the bell over the inside of his elbow. She’d practiced what Manny had showed her on Chloe, and had actually been able to hear her friend’s heart beating. She knew it didn’t matter what she heard but it made everything all the more real. “That’s just fine,” she said, taking a clipboard from a side table and scrawling something on a sheet of paper. She took his temperature, listened to his breathing with her stethoscope, then said, “I’ll need to do a full body exam. Don’t be embarrassed. I won’t see anything I’ve never seen before.” She parted the gown and saw that Collin’s erection had hardened. “Just relax,” she said, trying not to smile.

  She palpated his abdomen, then cupped his testicles as if to weigh them. “That’s fine,” she said, watching his hard cock bob and a small drop of precum ooze from the tip. “I’ll need to check your prostate.”