Panties for Sale

by York, Mattie

  Alex had spent her whole afternoon preparing tonight’s dinner, closely following a recipe Leon had selected for her. She had made potato croquetas with saffron, porcini and celery salad, roast chicken stuffed with fennel and garlic, creamy stone ground grits and spiced madeleines for dessert. And, it had turned out perfectly, well almost. The first batch of burnt madeleines were hiding in the garbage bin, but she was still proud of herself. It did seem more satisfying than sitting around watching soap operas all afternoon - and she had to admit, way more relaxing than getting all dolled up and stressed out for a 2:00 appointment with a man she hadn’t met yet. God, Alex sighed. What had she been thinking?

  The perfect Catch 22. If Alex hadn’t been an escort, she would have never met Joseph. And then she wouldn’t be sitting here in her new apartment, sipping her Perrier, thinking of what her and her gorgeous man would be doing later. Alex sighed and looked around for the remote to turn on the TV. She really should go and organize her closet. Most of her clothes were still strewn around her walk-in closet in ‘organized piles’. Maybe she’d do it tomorrow. Plus, she needed more hangers. She only had six of the nice wood ones and it was such a nice apartment, she should have nice matching hangers, right?

  “You are such a girl,” Joseph had laughed when she tried to explain this to him. That and why she needed a small U-Haul trailer to carry her clothes and shoe collection to the new apartment. “Lucky for you,” he kissed her nose, “you are a very beautiful girl.”

  Alex flicked off the TV. Nothing interesting was on. She knew Joseph had his eyes closed behind the paper he was pretending to read. So, she grabbed her phone and went into the other room to check her messages.

  “Hello? Elixia. It’s your mother. Your father and I are excited to meet this new man in your life. How is the job search going? Oh, you will love Mary and Frank’s new house. We just had a bbq there tonight! It’s so nice. Ok, call me back when you get this message.”

  “Elixia. I don’t know if you have checked your messages, but um, this is your mother. Call me back.”

  “Elixia. This is your mother. Are you angry at me? Why are you not calling me back? I just, well, I hope everything is ok?”

  “Elixia. Well. I don’t know what to say. This is your mother. Again. Are you even still alive?”

  Alex sighed and pressed 7 to delete all her messages. Then she dialed Chieko’s number and listened as it rang. “Oh, Chieko?” she said after the beep. “Hello. It’s me, Alex. I thought I might catch you tonight. I’ve been trying to reach you. Did you get my messages? You must be very busy. Well, if you have time, can you call me back? I was hoping we could meet for lunch or something this week? I hope everything is ok? I have some exciting news for you, but I’ll tell you when I see you. Ok. Talk to you soon.” Alex sighed as she hung up the phone. That was the third message she had left Chieko. Chieko didn’t even know she had quit. Well, at least Alex hadn’t been able to tell her. And she wanted to. Alex wanted to explain the whole situation to Chieko.

  The kettle started to scream and Alex hurried to catch it before it woke Joseph. As she poured herself a cup of hot water with lemon, a deep voice called out from the living room. “I’ll have one too.” Why does he always seem to know what I am doing? Alex smiled and made Joseph a mint tea, then carried both cups out into the living room.

  “Thank you darling,” Joseph put the paper down and took the hot tea from Alex. “You know, Alexandria,” Joseph watched as she slowly curled up beside him without spilling any of her hot water, “I know you have a fine, fine body.”

  “Why thank you,” Alex laughed.

  “I have never seen it in a bathing suit. What do you wear, one piece or two?”

  “That’s a strange question. Both,”

  “How?” Joseph’s eyes were twinkling.

  Alex shook her head as if it was obvious, “One piece when I swim laps at the pool, and a bikini for the beach.”

  “What color?”

  “Both are black”

  “Ah,” Joseph sipped his tea. “Beautiful, beautiful.”

  “Why?

  “Because we are going to the beach.”

  “We are?”

  “Yes, I have to go to Italy, and you are coming with me. We can swim in the Mediterranean and make love under the stars. And I can sit and watch your beautiful body as you walk along the beach.”

  “Really?” Alex laughed at the way Joseph made everything sound so exotically romantic. “When?”

  “Next week.”

  “Why so soon?”

  “I have some important business to do and want you to come.”

  “Seriously? That would be awesome! Are we going to go to Tunisia too?”

  “No,” Joseph shook his head, “Why would we go there?”

  “Well,” Alex answered, “it’s just that we will be so close, and you are always talking about your family, and I would love to see where you are from.”

  “No,” Joseph snapped.

  “Alright,” Alex shrugged, “It’s no big deal. If you don’t want to, but it doesn’t make sense.”

  “Yes, it does,” Joseph raised his voice, “it makes perfect sense. We are not going to Tunisia. I thought you would be happy to go to Italy. Why do you always ask for so much? Why can’t you just be happy with what I offer?”

  “Whoa,” Alex was shocked, “what is the matter? I don’t care if we go to Italy or Tunisia. I was just trying to support you. I know how much you care for your family.”

  “You don’t know anything,” Joseph shouted. He banged his cup down on the table and stormed out of the apartment.

  48

  Chieko slowly stepped out of the elevator on the fourth floor with a shiver. Buildings in Japan don’t usually have a ‘fourth’ floor. The word ‘four’ in Japanese, sounds too close to the word ‘death’. Chieko jangled her lucky charms on her key chain and walked down the corridor.

  The door to room 404 was open a crack. She checked her appointment book again: King Edward Hotel. Room 404. 4 pm. Why didn’t she know the clients name? That wasn’t right, Dora always left a name. As she pushed open the door, Chieko’s heart sank. “Damé,” she muttered.

  “I see you,” Saul was sitting in a high backed chair facing the door. “Please come in.” He stared at her with dark piercing eyes. “Do you remember what to do?”

  Chieko nodded and slowly began to remove her clothes. She shivered as she dropped her clothes. Biting her lip nervously, she walked to the middle of the room to stand infront of Saul. His fingers reached out to touch her, caressing the back of her legs.

  “Come closer,” he murmured pulling her hips towards him and pushing her back down so her arms dangled in front of her. He kept a firm grip on her left hip as he caressed her backside with his free hand, slowly trailing his fingers up her legs and over her buttocks. The sensation was soothing and although she didn’t want to, Chieko began to feel her body respond to his soft touch. Her head began to feel heavy and as she closed her eyes she wished she was lying down on a comfortable bed.

  “Ohma!” Chieko gasped as she felt Saul’s hot breath between her legs.

  “Quiet,” Saul slapped the back of Chieko’s leg, “This is for my pleasure, not yours.”

  Chieko covered her mouth with her hands as she groaned feeling waves of pleasure wash over her body as Saul buried his face deep inside her, pleasuring her with both his tongue and fingers.

  “Ah, you slut,” Saul laughed, “You like that don’t you? How about this?” He grabbed her skin and bit her with his teeth, sucking hard on her skin. Chieko screamed and tried to push him away, but Saul held tight, biting into her soft skin until he drew blood.

  When Saul finally let go, Chieko jumped away from him. She tried to turn around to face him, but had to reach out to balance herself against the wall as her legs were shaking uncontrollably.

  “Whore,” he sneered, “All women are whores. That is all you want. Sex and my money. Nothing else is worth anything to you. Look at you. I p
ut my finger deep in you, deep inside your most precious private place and who am I? Do you know who I am? No. And you let me. Why? Because I give you money.” Saul reached into his pocket and pulled out a stack of bills. “This is what you came for, not me. This is want you want. Well then, whore,” Saul held out the money to Chieko.

  Chieko hesitated, wary of the anger flashing behind Saul’s icy stare. The air was silent and still, as Chieko stared at Saul, like a surprised deer stares at hunter emerging from the forest.

  Saul shifted in his chair, and Chieko sensing a change in the air, stepped forward to take the money but Saul flicked his wrist and the money flew up into the air.

  Chieko watched the bills flutter past her, falling all over the floor. She didn’t move.

  “Pick them up!” Saul shouted.

  Chieko jumped and then fell down to her knees, gathering up the money as fast as she could. She crawled to the door, grabbed her clothes and pulled herself up. Without looking back, she yanked the door open and ran down the hall. She tried to cover herself as she ran until she was able to duck into the exit stairwell. Shivering, Chieko tried to catch her breath while she got dressed.

  49

  Diary,

  I’ve been thinking a lot about this business. And I think Luann is right. I mean, am I ok with doing this? I mean really?????

  And is it ok to have this business with my boys in the house? I don’t know. What about when they grow up? Is it the right message? But I really can’t see anything wrong with it. I mean, I know society hates it. But why? Fuck society. I’m not hurting any one. And that’s what Luann says is the most important thing. What did she say? I have it written down somewhere. Oh yes. Do what one will, whatever one wants, as long as it is harms no one.

  Well, I do that. So why do people think it’s wrong? Well, I guess as a woman I can see why other women don’t like us. We make other women feel insecure. I know. I thought the same thing when I was stressing over my dick head husband. Women get all scared that maybe the other woman knows some secret sexual trick they don’t. That’s what I thought. What does she do to please him that I don’t? And believe me, I know all of tricks. And that is not what was stealing my husband away.

  It pisses me off though. Why are women are so god damned afraid of their sensuality? Why does no one talk about it? No one looks at each other. Women don’t want to talk about what they do with their husbands. Admit that they even have sex. No, that is behind closed doors. No wonder they are all so terrified that they are not doing it right. Or they are missing something. Or their husbands will find someone else, something else they like better. God damnit, this society is repressed! Jesus H. Christ, but we are missing the whole god damned picture.

  You know, women need to stop and stand up for themselves and start talking this shit out. That’s what I think. There is no reason for women to hate us or fear us. Because us ‘women of the night’ - us ‘whores’ - we know no more and no less than they do. Ok, maybe a few more tricks. But it’s all the same damn thing. The stick goes in the hole. And repeat.

  And really, wives, girlfriends, they have so much more power than us, because they actually care. They give a damn about their boyfriends, their husbands. If I had a dime, no a penny, for every man that wished their wives would just give them a chance. Just let things go. Just relax and enjoy themselves. Enjoy sex. The god, the bad, and even the ugly sex. Damn, the ugly sex. That’s the best, when its so damn good, you lose all sense of everything. And you don’t give a shit. God damn. Women are crazy. They don’t even know their own power. The power of love. When they have sex with their men, they are in love. They are creating acts of love. We, us whores, we are not in love. We are posers. Pretending. It’s an illusion of sex and sexiness. An illusion of caring. But all we really care about is the money. That’s why guys come. Because they know what to expect. They know they won’t hurt our feelings if they don’t do it right or climax enough or stay hard enough. Because we’re not going to turn over and say ‘is that it?’ Is it because I don’t excite you? ‘Do you think I’m too fat?’

  What do I know. Shit, I’m just babbling now. But really, I was thinking about it. What kind of fucked up society needs to have wives and then whores to do what wives should be doing?

  No. I take that back. I think whores are necessary. Of course, I say that. It’s my god damned job. But yes, I think we are here for a reason. At least in today’s society. We can point out the flaws. In a relationship. In society. In marriage. God damned marriage.

  People’s lives cannot be governed by a piece of paper they signed on one day out of their 80 yearlong lives. Especially if it belongs to some woman-hating oppressive church dogma crap. Yet that is exactly what society demands of them. Everyone must be in one monogamous relationship. Where the man is king. Under one roof. Paying one family tax. It’s easier to keep track of that way. To control. To monitor. Damn.

  That god damned Randolph Strausberg was right. God, he was such a blowhard. But you know what? For all his PhD Philosophical Women’s Studies University shit, he was right about one thing. It is all about control. We are all controlled. I can’t believe I remembered his name. I can’t believe I thought of him. What the hell would make me think of him?

  He was always going off about his beloved philosopher, what was his name? Freud? No, not that sex freak. Kant. That’s right. It was Kant. I remember, cause when he said it, it always sounded like cunt. Shit. His ideas of people being controlled, all this big brother shit. But it makes perfect sense.

  Of course marriage is a way to control the world. By controlling sex. Which you can’t. That’s nature. That’s uncontrollable. But if you sign a contract saying you will obey, you will follow the rules. You will go against your nature and only have sex with one person. Wow. And then of course, add the temptation. Add the easy women. Make it tempting. So then a man will want to dabble. He will be almost forced to succumb. So then he will feel guilty. So you either self-discipline yourself and are controlled. Or you let loose and visit a wanton women. You think you are letting go, breaking out of the chains of your daily life. Ha! And there you go, you just walk right into guilt, fear and even bigger chains. All because of one piece of paper you signed on one day out of your life.

  And the women! What an easy way to pit women against each other. Make them feel insecure by the threat of each other. Shit. They will become enemies of each other. Over men. Distracting them from their real lives. From their real power, just to obsess about pleasing the men. Clever fucking genius!!!! We have made pleasing the man, pleasuring the man the shit. The everything. The be all and end all. And completely demeaned women.

  On one hand we have the sex of marriage. A ritual. Done behind closed doors where no one talks about it. Missionary, man on top, get it over with because I want to watch T.V. position. Restrained to the same day in and day out by contract. Signed for life. And this is esteemed.

  And on the other hand, the sex with the whore. Fun. Wild. Adventurous. On top. Behind. Any way you want it. And it is scorned.

  Jesus H. Christ!!! Both ways the man wins. And the woman is sacrificed. Sent to the slaughter.

  And the men! They get it. They use it, buggers. Abuse it. No, I won’t touch you. Your pussy. No, it’s dirty. I won’t kiss it. But you, woman, you are expected, hell obliged, to lick their dicks. And if you won’t? He’ll go find someone that will. God damned. What a mess is this world we have created.

  Sex is like breathing. It is completely natural. It should be fun and simple. And now, god damned, it is a holy mother of god, big fucking mess. Jesus, was Randolph right! I wish I had listened more to what he had to say. But, he always had too much too say. Who cared about all that shit? Not me, for sure. I was young. I was after fun. And money. And, yeah, he was fun. Damn, was he fun!

  He always thought I was in love with him. Conceited prick. But then, maybe I was. But I remember, he always told me, when I fall in love, really fall in love, I would understand. When I found true love, I woul
d see it. See what? I got married I didn’t see shit. I just saw another lonely hurt man who needed my help.

  Or was I in love? I don’t know. It was different. I didn’t understand why he didn’t love me. I waited by the phone waiting for a call, a new booking, more appointments with him. Oh my god. I used to get so excited on Thursdays. My heart would race all day. And the fantasies I had in my head. Yes, if he had asked me to run away with him. I would have. In a heartbeat. But then he just left. Disappeared. One Thursday, he just wasn’t there anymore. He didn’t switch girls. I don’t think so. My agency never heard from him again. I cried over him. Really cried. Damn near broke my heart. Oh, I waited and hoped to hear from him again. For months. Years, I hoped he would call. I didn’t care about any of my clients that way again. Actually, I didn’t even think about John that way. It was gone. That spark. Naïve, I guess you’d call it.

  No, with John it was quieter. He needed help. Oh, did he ever. And his boys. They needed me. And he gave me a home. I needed a home. And he made me feel safe. Shit. Shit. Shit. Why is life so damned complicated? Love. Why does love have to be so damned important? Why does it even matter? Where the fuck would I find love, now anyways? At my age? No, maybe I don’t need love anymore. To hell with love.

  Only myself. I will only love myself. That’s the most important love anyways. Luann said that. I do, too. I love who I am. I love the way I look. And I love my boys. God knows I do. Maybe I just need a man to treat me with respect. To adore me. To pleasure me. Yes, ok. I do need a friend. Someone who understands my business. And won’t get all weird on me. Someone to talk to. To trust. A man I can trust.

  Luann said that it’s not enough to want something. You have to be very specific and ask for exactly what you want. Make a list. So, if I am looking for a man, I have to decide exactly what type of man I want. Sort of like a shopping list. Ha! Ok. I can do that.