Club Fantasy? She stared at her sister, a woman she suddenly didn’t know.
Jenna looked her straight in the eyes. “Men come to us to fulfill fantasies and we do a damned good job of it. Men who have nowhere else to go to live out things they’ve dreamed of all their lives come here and enjoy. We get well paid for it and both Chloe and I love what we’re doing.”
“You’re a prostitute?” She wanted to say whore but that word sounded so disgusting. Prostitute sounded a bit less like some hooker hanging out on a street corner with a needle in her arm.
“I’m a woman who has sex with men for money,” Jenna said softly.
Marcy stood and paced the length of the kitchen, unable to think clearly. This was her sister, her twin, a woman she’d been closer to than anyone, including their parents. This was a stranger. Her heart pounded and she couldn’t catch her breath. She couldn’t decide what name to put on what she was feeling. Disappointment? Embarrassment? No, too mild. Shock? Repugnance? Yes, and revulsion. “I don’t even know you.”
“I’m the same person who was bored in Seneca Falls and needed something new in my life.”
“But, Jenna. My God. What’s come over you?”
“I’m sorry you had to find out this way, Sis, but frankly, I’m not doing anything I’m ashamed of. You know that I love you and I want you to understand.” She glanced at the clock on the front of the microwave. “I have a client in about fifteen minutes and I need to get ready.” She rummaged around in the bottom of her purse. “Here’s a spare key to my current apartment.” She scrawled the address on a piece of paper. “Please. For me. Go over there and think about everything. Try to react with your brain, not with your heart. If we’re going to part company let’s do it after you have some time. Don’t go back to Seneca Falls before we talk again. Please.” Jenna stood and hugged her sister. “I’ll be there around midnight.”
Marcy put the key on the table. “I don’t think so.”
“Marcy, it can’t end like this. Please.” Before her sister had time to turn away, Jenna bent down and kissed her cheek. “I love you, Sis, and we have to talk but I can’t continue this right now. I have an obligation to people who’ve paid a great deal of money and have expectations that I have to fulfill.” With a heavy sigh, Jenna walked out through the kitchen door.
After Jenna left, Marcy sat at the kitchen table for a long time, playing and replaying their conversation. Jenna had treated it all like some kind of public service and it wasn’t. Okay, so what was it? She tried to concentrate on the evils but she kept coming back to the rationality of all of Jenna’s arguments. Her head spun.
At about nine, Rock walked in. “I see you’re still here,” he said gently.
Marcy stood and picked up her purse. “I was just leaving.”
“Don’t judge her too harshly, Marcy. She’s a wonderful woman and it would be a shame for you two to go your separate ways without talking it all out.”
“She told you?”
“Only the rudiments. She’s devastated.”
“I’m sure,” she said, unable to hide her bitterness. Marcy glared at the huge man who she’d never seen before outside of her dreams. “And what the hell are you, a male prostitute?”
“Yes,” he said softly, “and I’m very good at what I do.”
Marcy could only gasp. A male hooker? It went against everything she’d ever considered. Women didn’t need sex the way a man did, so why should they go to someone like him? What was more deeply embarrassing was that she’d been attracted to him in her dreams. It was disgusting. She didn’t understand any of it.
“Talk to her. Try to cut her a little slack.” Rock poured himself a cup of coffee and left without another word.
Marcy picked up the key Jenna had left on the table. Rock was right about one thing. They did need to talk.
While Marcy was taking a taxi to Jenna’s apartment, Jenna was in the doctor’s office “examining” a new customer. It took all her concentration to play the part of a sexy doctor giving a man a physical. She managed to shove all her worries to the back of her mind and give the client everything he’d paid for. Although much of it was on autopilot, she must have done a good job since the man departed with a big smile and left her a hundred-dollar tip.
Later she entertained another customer in the second motel room, one they’d set up recently since the first one was occupied all the time, with a waiting list of men with fantasies that played there. By the time she grabbed a cab across town it was almost twelve-thirty. She’d checked the kitchen table, almost afraid to find her key still there, but it was gone. There was hope.
Jenna opened the door to her apartment and found her sister sitting in the living room deep in thought. “I’m glad you stayed,” she said softly, draping her coat over a chair. She looked around for Marcy’s but she quickly realized that her sister would have hung it in the closet.
“I never did find out what the hell happened last night.” Marcy’s voice was tight, her hands now fisted in her lap.
Marcy had used the word hell. She must be in some state, Jenna thought. Well, at least she hadn’t rushed back to Seneca Falls. Maybe there was a chance to patch some of this up. It might never be the same as it had been, but maybe it wasn’t totally ruined. She sat at the opposite end of the long sofa and tucked her legs beneath her, as usual a mirror image of her sister’s pose.
What had happened last evening? How could she answer Marcy’s question? I was part of an orgy? I fucked several men in several different ways? I had my first experience with a woman and got off on it? “I had a very enjoyable evening.”
“Can it. I saw some of it, and felt some of it. You were raped.”
“Actually, no, I wasn’t.”
“I couldn’t move. You couldn’t move. I can’t sort it all out but there was all sorts of strange stuff going on. I know that much.”
“Nothing happened last evening that I didn’t want, didn’t consent to and participate in willingly. There was nothing that I didn’t totally enjoy.”
“Enjoy? I saw you, no, felt you, tied down, grabbed here,” she said, touching her upper thighs, “and more. I saw several men including that Rock guy.”
“That’s true.”
“And a woman.”
“Also true.”
“Jenna, what’s become of you?”
She sighed. Marcy would never understand, but she had to try. “I’ve learned to enjoy lots of off-center stuff with clients and with friends.”
“I don’t get it.”
Of course you don’t, Jenna thought. She gathered her thoughts. “I don’t know what to say, Sis. On the outside, I’m different in lots of ways from the woman who left home to come to Manhattan, but inside I’m still the same person. I think some of this was in there all along, but I didn’t know it. The only thing I knew was that I couldn’t marry Glen and settle down to a white-picket-fence life. It was only when I moved here and met people, did different things in bed, that I discovered what I had been looking for.”
“So you became a hooker.”
“If you want to put it that way.”
“What other way is there? You were looking for kinky sex when you said no to Glen. It wasn’t just about being tied down.”
“It was so many things that I couldn’t sort them all out but, yes, sex was a big part of it.”
“You didn’t tell me that part.”
“I know. I didn’t know whether you’d understand.”
Jenna watched the color rise in her sister’s cheeks. “Right. Sweet, uptight, sexually repressed Marcy wouldn’t have a clue about wanting something more in bed.”
Jenna hadn’t meant it like that but it was closer to the truth than she wanted to admit. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t like that.”
“We’re being honest, or at least I think we are. Tell it straight. You didn’t think I’d understand because I’ve never had a sex life.”
She was right, of course. Jenna wondered how far to take this, then
said, “Okay. Here’s honesty. You’re plain vanilla or at least that’s the way you’ve always seemed to me. I wanted rocky road, heavenly hash, something more.”
“But you slept with Glen when you came home. Twice, if I’ve been counting right.”
“I did, and it’s been a lot better since I got away. I accept that a lot of what went wrong with Glen was my fault. I didn’t know how to ask for what I wanted and there was no way he could have guessed. Doing what I’ve been doing has taught me a great deal.”
“I’ll bet,” Marcy said, her voice snide.
Jenna grinned. “Don’t knock it, Sis. I’ve had some great sex.”
“I’ll bet.” After a minute, Marcy added, “Tell me about Club Fantasy.”
Encouraged by Marcy’s softened tone of voice, Jenna spent a long time telling her sister about the way it had all started, the movies, the motel room, and then the venturing out into other types of fantasy fulfillment. “We’ve had a lot of help from a wonderful woman named Erika who’s been doing this sort of thing for a long time.”
“Another hooker?” she said sharply. There was a pause, then she continued, “Sorry, maybe I should stop using that word. It sounds so terrible. Okay. What about this Erika person?”
“Thanks for being patient, Sis,” Jenna said. “You can’t imagine how much I’ve wanted to share this with you.”
“God, Jenna, this is so difficult for me. I’m trying to be reasonable and listen.”
Jenna explained Erika’s history and told her sister a bit about Courtesans, Inc. “She’s such a wonderful woman. I’d love to have you meet her.”
Marcy shook her head. “I don’t think I’m ready for that right now. Jen, I’m trying to deal with all this, mostly because I love you and I know you’ve got the same basic morality I have, but you can imagine how difficult it is for me. It goes against everything I’ve ever believed.”
Jenna reached across the sofa and hugged her sister. “How can I expect you to understand when it took me weeks to come to terms with all of this? It makes sense to me now, however.”
“It doesn’t to me, but I can live with that. From what you’ve said this is a thriving business and you’re having fun with it. I guess that means that you’re not coming back home.”
“I don’t know whether Club Fantasy is a life or just a temporary pleasure. For right now, it’s such fun and there’s so much money involved that I’m going to stay here.”
Marcy leaned forward and her voice dropped. “How much money?”
“I’ve added more than ten thousand dollars to my bank account in the past few months.”
Marcy’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding. Isn’t some of that from your work?”
“Sis, I haven’t taken a translation assignment for about six weeks. It’s all from Club Fantasy, and the business is growing all the time.” She spent several minutes filling Marcy in on the details.
Marcy seemed to be digesting all the information. Finally, she asked, “Don’t you worry that you’re cheating yourself somehow?”
“Cheating myself?”
“How are you going to be able to get married, have kids, like that, after what you’re doing here?”
“I’ve thought about that and I don’t know the answer. I want a family, husband, kids, but for right now I’m not going to worry about that. Erika’s married and several of the ladies she works with are as well.”
“What about Glen?”
“That troubles me a lot and it’s difficult for me to know what’s right.”
The two women stayed up for another hour, then Marcy bedded down on the pull-out sofa. They had breakfast together, then took a cab to the garage where Marcy had parked the day before. The twins hugged and, although Jenna knew that Marcy still didn’t totally understand, they were still friends when she left.
Chapter 16
Marcy didn’t mean to tell Glen about Club Fantasy. It just happened.
“Where were you last Wednesday and Thursday?” Glen asked her as they sat having a quiet dinner the following Sunday evening. Since neither of them had an active social life and since they had Jenna in common, they’d been having dinner together once or twice a month. “Joe Stewart told me you’d suddenly taken two days off. That’s not like you.”
“I took a quick trip down to see Jenna,” Marcy said, unable to think of a lie quickly enough. She didn’t want to get into this with Glen, afraid she’d say something she shouldn’t.
“Oh?” he said. “That was really sudden. I hope nothing’s wrong. She didn’t mention anything when I spoke to her last Friday.”
“I thought there was a problem, but I was mistaken.” Marcy had been thinking about her visit and all the things she’d learned. She hadn’t adjusted to the idea that her sister was a prostitute, but she’d decided to cut Jenna some slack and let things ride.
They’d spoken several times since her return to Seneca Falls and, at times, Marcy had wanted to preach, to tell Jenna all the reasons why what she was doing was wrong, but she found she had an increasingly difficult time finding those reasons. She also found herself a little intrigued. None of this, however, was Glen’s problem.
“Did you have a nice visit?” Glen asked.
“Great, actually.” She decided to be as honest as she could. “I tried to call her several times and got her voice mail. As it turned out, she’d just misplaced her cell phone so I got all worked up for nothing.”
“How is she?”
“She’s fine, enjoying New York City in the winter. I have to say that I like it here better. The snow in Manhattan is seldom white. Central Park is pretty, though. I took a cab through the park to her apartment. It was really lovely. I guess it’s the only part of the city where the dirt doesn’t show.”
“Her apartment? I’m confused. I thought she lived with Chloe in a brownstone.”
Damn, Marcy thought, I knew I’d louse this up. “Oh, didn’t I tell you?” she said brightly. “She’s got an apartment on the West Side. It’s really cute. So, how was your week? I gather there’s a merger in the works.”
“Something’s not right here,” Glen said, not letting her change the subject, “and frankly, Marcy, you’re a lousy liar. What’s going on? Is she in some kind of trouble? Is that why you raced down there?”
“She’s not in any trouble, Glen. Let it go, will you? Please!”
“She’s not just a casual acquaintance and I don’t just ask about her because she’s your sister. What’s going on?”
Marcy heaved a deep sigh. Glen was right, she was a lousy liar. Slowly, with the help of several pointed questions from Glen, she told him the whole story. “She’s a hooker with a high-priced clientele,” Glen spat. “That doesn’t make her any different from a streetwalker. What the hell is wrong with her?”
As Marcy told Glen about Club Fantasy, she realized that, although she didn’t understand it, if it was what Jenna wanted, she would try not to judge. Her sister was a grown woman and Marcy wouldn’t reject her, even if she didn’t like what she was doing. But for Glen, maybe this was just the reason Glen needed to move on with his life. “Let it go, Glen. Admit that she’s not the woman for you and get on with the rest of your life.”
Glen remained silent and the meal ended awkwardly. When she told her sister about her mess-up the following day, Jenna was understanding and resigned to the loss of her relationship with Glen. “It’s probably for the best,” she said, echoing Marcy’s words. “It’s probably for the best.” As she hung up, Marcy thought she heard her sister cry.
For nearly a week Glen couldn’t deal with what he’d learned about Jenna so he tried not to think about it. He managed to suppress it during the day, but at night, as he lay in bed, he pictured Jenna, the woman he’d asked to marry him, in lewd poses with men of all sizes, shapes, and colors. Mixed with those images were ones of himself and Jenna making love, as recently as Christmas. He’d been so receptive and the sex had been good. He remembered that he’d noticed that she was more willi
ng to show him what she wanted.
How could she have changed so much in such a short time? Or had she changed? Was this Jenna inside the one he’d proposed to all the time? For another week he alternated between puzzlement and just plain fury. How could she do this to him? How could she do it to herself? He hated her, and hated himself for still loving her. It made no sense and he couldn’t sort it out, as much as he tried.
It gnawed at him and he kept revisiting his conversation with Marcy like a tongue touching a sore tooth. Club Fantasy. Men. Lots of men. Some guy named Rock, of all things, living in the brownstone in which Jenna and her friend Chloe were supposed to be. He hadn’t gone to visit because he was giving her space. She sure took her space, all right. And look what she did with it.
It was illegal and dangerous. What was to prevent some pervert from doing all kinds of things to her? Marcy had alluded to all kinds of kinky stuff. He knew what that meant. S&M, bondage, orgies. Orgies. Jenna and who knew how many men. His Jenna.
Not his. Not anymore. He wanted to choke some sense into her, to attempt to make her understand what she was doing. She couldn’t continue this way without getting hurt, injured, battered. He knew what went on. He read the papers and watched TV.
By the third week he was starting to formulate a plan. He had to show her how dangerous this was. Things would never be the same. There was no future for them, but he had to admit, if only to himself, that he still cared deeply about her and wanted her safe. Not with him, of course, but safe.
Slowly, he figured out what he had to do. He took a few days off from work and, telling no one where he was going, drove down to Manhattan the following, bitterly cold Monday morning. He arrived in the late afternoon, parked, and found the brownstone in a lovely side street with trees planted every few feet. He’d been in the city on business several times but he’d never really explored its more residential neighborhoods. It was an exciting city and, even with all its problems, it managed to have charming areas like this one. He could certainly understand why Jenna enjoyed her stay here. Not what she was doing, of course, but the city itself.
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