Oh
Katherine, it perplexes me as to where exactly she went wrong. Was it with
Brandon, or Travis, or Arman, or Amir, or Carlos, or Jean-Paul, or Cedrick, or
was it Fredrick—oh yes there was Cedrick and Fredrick—and there was Keith, and
Paul, and Otto, and Roberto, and Igor, and Edward or was it Edwardo? It was
Edward, and then Isaac, Robin…why I can’t remember them all. But by God, does
this woman not discriminate! What a burden it is to remember! Oh, but women
must, even in these modern times, truly, because our men always want to know
and when they demand our answers, we must tell them something. Perhaps it is
better we spread falsehoods to cover up those wilder days. I’m not sure why it
bothers them so. Perhaps it’s because men are so adventurers at heart, always
wanting to traverse unmarked territory, or like Robert Frost’s poem—you know
the one— they aspire to take “The Road Not Taken”. However, in this case, there’s
greater risk in taking the road more trodden as opposed to the untamed, what
with those pesky diseases around! Or perhaps it’s because of their
temperamental egos. Having to compete for the champion spot is much less of a
challenge with only two competitors rather than with fourteen or twenty-two, or
in the case of Katherine only God could say. I’m afraid I don’t have a clear
answer for why men seem to value a women’s chastity so much. Who knows exactly
why it is, only that it is, and that we must live with what is irrespective of
how things came to be or ought to be…or
we must find a man who is both up for a challenge but wants to take the more
journeyed road. What a devilish contradiction indeed! But to think of it, are
loose women a challenge to begin with? Not initially, but in the long-run I should
say yes…that’s if the man cares about how well he pleases her. But do men
really care how much we enjoy ourselves as long as they do? Why my own husband…Oh
I do amuse myself, spinning my head in circles, but I really should get on with
it.
Now
where was I? Oh yes, where Katherine went wrong. Well now, since I can’t
remember his name I’ll just have to refer to him as Peter. Peter was a stallion
indeed. He gave Katherine an awakening, showed her unimaginable pleasures, and
this consequently released an indefatigable appetite within her. He was only
her second partner and he had no problem seducing her with his chiseled
features and sturdy frame. But I’m sure she would tell you otherwise, that it
had nothing to do with his looks but his impeccable attention to detail and
capacity to read her mind.
Oh
but those carnal affairs are fleeting most assuredly. You can never count on
them, I say, just like when you’ve hired a new cook. But I do digress… Shall I
continue? Oh yes, see when Peter was through with Katherine it left a void in
her. Afterward, she was always looking for a substitute, and while some of them
she fancied quite well, Peter was incomparable in his talent. She became quite
the monomaniac in her quest. Every night she’d go gallivanting off to all sorts
of squalid venues, the seediest of dive bars, dragging them back home like
curs.
She
experienced every variety of beasts in her chambers, but as soon as they’d
leave she would already feel hungry for the next. She had no problem getting
them to come. Katherine was by no means a perfect beauty, but she knew how to
paint her face to transform herself into something more desirous and she knew
what garments best elicited that type of attention.
Oh
Katherine, she started as such a bright girl. What a waste of potential! This
predilection for the flesh became so consuming that she was terminated from her
employer. Not only was she not performing well as she slept very little,
management feared that she was a sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen
the way she flirted with all the other male employees and the way they spoke
vulgarities about her when she wasn’t present but could very well be.
If
she didn’t find new employment, it became clear that she’d soon be homeless. At
first the idea of not having a place to bring her conquests to agitated her
greatly, and then she realized she had no need to have her own property. She
could always go to their residence and afterwards sleep in their beds and use
their showers in the morning. Her car could supply sufficient storage and the
rest could be sold. The new situation was no trouble at all but only meant more
freedom. Without a job Katherine could now pursue men around the clock.
Of
course she needed some money to pay for her daily expenses and other
necessities. This is why Katherine decided to cease attending lowlife
establishments and instead loitered expensive hotel bars and lobbies, golf
courses, and luxury car dealerships. She used the last of her unemployment
money not on rent but on a new wardrobe. To her it was an investment. She
needed the right uniform to lure them in. Moreover, she quite exhausted the resources
at the local dive bars and was open to the idea of new talent. She was quite
pleased with her sagaciousness for being able to find an alternative source of
income that also allowed her to do what she loved most.
She
kept her homelessness a secret and told every one of them that her place was
being renovated and was unfit for company. No one would know by her immaculate
clothes and the way her hair was persistently in curls. Even her car was clean
as she stored all her belongings in just her trunk.
She
didn’t care if they were older or if they were married. The married ones met
her at hotels on false business trips and were more likely to bestow grandiose
gifts to maintain her attention. If possible, she would return these gifts from
where they came and only after time she’d say that she preferred cash.
Some
felt uncomfortable with the idea, but as she had them wrapped around her finger
and they were already quite attached to her engagement with them, or
arrangement I should say, they agreed to pay without argument in fear of
insulting her. Others preferred it as they found it to be less effort to meet
her approval. And though she never made it explicit, from the moment they met
her, they knew one way or the other that her company would not come for free. They
could tell by the way she carried herself, by her youth, and more importantly
the lack of reason as to why she’d be interested in them. It was only Gabriel
who saw her in a more, how should I say, direct light.
They
had just finished a most rigorous exertion at a Hilton when he took his ring
from the dresser and put it back on. Oh it is despicable behavior really, but
at least he had enough tact to not let his ring touch the interiors of another
woman. As he was tying up the laces of his shoes he asked Katherine, without
looking at her, what he owed her.
“Excuse
me?” she asked taken aback.
“What
do I owe you,” he repeated.
“You
don’t owe me anything. I accept only gifts.”
“Let’s
not pretend this is something it isn’t.” His voice was dry and had nothing of
the saccharine, doting tone she was used to.
“We’re
just two adults having sex. I know you’re not my boyfriend. I don’t know what
I’ve done to make you think I want more.”
“You’re
telling me you’re not a hooker?”
“Of
course not!”
“I’m
sorry, do you prefer escort?”
“Please,
I’m not at all.”
“Look,
I’ve got to go,” he said as he turned towards the door. By the fidgeting of his
hand in his pocket, one could see he was contemplating leaving the money on the
table but decided against it. “Checkout is at eleven,” he said upon departure.
“I trust you to leave by then.”
To
be treated in such a way caused Katherine much distress. In her mind she was
far from a prostitute. She never went about advertising herself as something
that could be purchased at an hourly rate. She never asked for more than they
were willing to give on their own accord. And what she received in return from
her many rotating boyfriends was merely a stipend. She was not profiting at
all, but surviving. It wasn’t any more money than what would be given or spent
hypothetically on a girlfriend and she saw no difference between herself and a
stay-at-home wife when it came to receiving benefits. At least a housewife had
a suitable home. If the difference was on principle of love, well then she
loved to be pleasured.
She
understood more than anyone the instability of her life. It was not something
she wanted to keep up forever. Yes, you may be surprised by this, but she had her
own visions of settling down, that is, as soon as she found herself a Peter
equivalent. It would have to be someone of his caliber, who could understand
her body as well as he had, that she would be able to give up her freedom for.
Anything less and she knew that she’d grow bitter with resentment, that her
constancy would be compromised. There would be no chance of a lasting partnership
with Peter perpetually in her head. She would be committing constant adultery,
in fantasy and in full…frequently even. She knew she’d be unable to give up her
hunt if she were still unsatisfied.
She thought of Peter almost all hours of the
day, and the time spent with other men was her only real reprieve from that
fixation, even though after it would leave a bitter aftertaste of
disappointment in her mouth. Still pleasure was better than none at all.
Oh
Katherine, it breaks my heart really. Any passerby could see that her methods
were futile. She’d have been better off staying employed and instead being more
selective. This exchange of money and gifts made the men she was with selfish.
They did not care much if she enjoyed herself while there was a fee involved.
What motivation did they have to try their best when everyone involved knew
that these were transient relationships? She hoped that they’d show
improvement, but it was always the contrary. The more they invested the less effort
they gave.
Katherine
went back down to the hotel’s bar, not to scout for more men, but because she
was legitimately sad and wanted something to drink. Over a martini, she
contemplated the state of her life. Gabriel’s impudence made Katherine pause, at
least to stop and strategize. Under the present circumstances she was profiting
poorly in both income and pleasure. Why if she were an actual whore at least
she’d be making a decent living. For a moment she contemplated becoming one,
but then promptly dismissed it from her mind. There was one thing that
separated her too greatly from that profession. She was more interested in her
own pleasure than supplying it to others. She would have to obey their every
request. It would make more sense for her to order prostitutes for herself, but
that would not be within her finances. Even if she found her Peter replacement
by someone as experienced as a gigolo, it would be difficult to settle down
with one, and she’d have to supply a large enough income to support the two of
them. That was a very far-fetched idea indeed, especially in regard to how she
had always been able to hardly support herself. Perhaps the solution lay in
picking up a young one, a boy straight out of high school that would adore her
and follow her every request. But that idea fled her mind just as quickly.
There was nothing sexy about having a slave, a malleable boy to do your every
bidding. No, what Katherine really wanted was a man with skill, who had the
talent of a professional without being one. A man who could read her body,
memorize it, and where she’d never have to teach a thing.
Katherine began to see how ill-conceived her
plan was. She thought older men would have more experience and therefore more
skill. But what she got were men who got tired quickly and were not as
attractive. The income she received from them was a penance, something that on
second thought was really given more as an apology for their lack of ability
than anything. Having more hours in the day was really no service in fostering
the acquisition of more men because the men who had money to give were harder
to find than those curs of her former dive bar days. Katherine felt utter
destitution in her failure to find a replacement and inability to think of a
better plan. In fact, she had thought of giving up. She had imagined a whole
other life for herself, an honest one, back at a boring job where she’d find a
nice boyfriend who was mediocre in bed but at least helped support her. But
then, looking to her left, she saw at the end of bar Peter drinking a beer to
himself and watching the game. Was it really him, she wondered. She felt her
heart skip a beat. The fluttering in her stomach was unbearable. She knew that
she must approach him but couldn’t think what to say. Seeing him with those
same dark eyes, and robust, youthful veneer, she knew she had to have him
again. She had to make him hers. To Katherine’s relief, but also inconvenience,
he was the first to speak.
“Katherine
is that you?”
I
say inconvenience only because Katherine was still out of breath. She paused
for a moment to regain her composure before responding. “Peter is that you?”
After
the acknowledgement that each was who they thought, Peter asked to sit next to
her. Oh it how difficult it was for Katherine to conceal her enthusiasm.
“I’ve
thought about you,” he said.
“I’ve
thought of you as well,” she answered. Oh if he only knew how much he’d be off
at once! But as it was, it was clear that he was feasting on her with his eyes.
“We
had some great times, am I right?”
It
took everything Katherine had in her to not pounce on him right then and there.
She briefly licked her lower lip before answering, “How could I forget?”
“And
while we had a lot of fun, I want to let you know that I’ve changed. I’m not
that same guy anymore. I have more that I’m interested in now. You were always
really…really chill to talk to…” Now I could finish this oh so articulate
speech of his, but it doesn’t entirely matter. Katherine was so overwhelmed
with lust that she could scarcely listen anyways.
“I
want to apologize for how things ended,” he continued. It was quite audacious
of him to even bring it up. The way he left was like an ellipses. He just left,
no explanation, and she never heard from him again. She went to his residence but
it had already been vacated. She had no idea where he went off to and after
searching vigorously every internet resource, it was evident that he must have
been insincere in giving his name. But it’d be of no advantage to Katherine if
she were to scold him now on the issue. The best way to make amends was not in
words but in actions, and she had those quite explicitly in mind.
“Well
I think I know a way you can it up to me,” she said, her voice rich and
seductive.
Now
I can give you the particulars of what happened next in that hotel, but I think
you can very well imagine for yourself. What I will say, however, was that it
was just as satisfying as she remembered. It had lost none of its potency, of
its intensity and vibrancy. Oh how that hotel must have shook. But I’ll get on
with it…
Now,
to give you an account of the extent of their relationship, you should know
that Katherine instantly quit her little side business. There was no point of
maintaining that now. She reinstated herself at a similar job and while it was
dull work, she had him to look forward to in the evenings. They went on dates,
they talked about their days, and did all that you’d expect from your average
couple.
Katherine
in this way was able to see a new side to him. She enjoyed the way he laughed,
the way he was considerate of her feelings and needs, and how he was particular
about trifles like how he liked his bagels—pumpernickel with two dollops of
cream cheese only. These were pleasures unknown to her, ones that she had never
before felt the need to participate in. Katherine believed with conviction in
her sense of hierarchy, but now that the sexual requisites were fulfilled, she
could think of indulging other more elaborate emotions like love and
companionship. And I do admit, for a while, Katherine had these with him.
It
was not an easy transition. There were other duties involved, duties she was
greatly unaccustomed to like cooking and cleaning. She labored and toiled for
him, or at least she felt as though she was doing so. But these were tolerable
drudgeries when she was rewarded with his body.
She
was inexperienced with the art of communication and they fought often and in
the bedroom did she enjoy making up. But as their relationship was so dependent
on it for its survival, Peter one day decided to have a talk after they had
finished.
“Does
it ever occur to you that maybe we have too much sex.”
“I
don’t understand,” she said. “How is it too much when we always enjoy it?”
“The
sex is amazing…don’t get me wrong…but I mean…we do it like almost every chance
we get. I feel like we don’t spend enough time getting to know each other. I
don’t feel like I know a lot about you.”
“What
would you like to know?”
“Well
like how many boyfriends have you had?”
“Well
I guess you’re my first one.”
“That’s
it?”
“I mean I’ve had other things but I never called them my boyfriend.”
“I mean I’ve had other things but I never called them my boyfriend.”
“Well
then how many partners have you had?
“I don’t think I know.”
“I don’t think I know.”
“What
do you mean you don’t know?”
“I
don’t know what to tell you.”
He
took her by the hand and said, “Look, it’s okay. You can just be honest about
it. I won’t judge.”
“I mean I can’t count. I lost track.” At that he released her hand.
“I mean I can’t count. I lost track.” At that he released her hand.
“Like
in the fifties?”
“Perhaps
more, who’s to say? I don’t think I could even give you an estimate.”
Oh
Katherine, there never was a more singular woman. Her nature confounds me so.
Where she got her principles from, I can’t tell you at all. In my day she would
have been shamed to suicide many partners ago. Even in these modern times, I
imagine she receives little sympathy if any. I suppose it’s a good thing then
that she isolates herself from company and with that judgement. There’s only
one person’s opinion that matters to her. Oh how I wish she’d just given him a
reasonable lie like fifteen or twenty-four. It seems he tried his best to be
accepting, but I can only imagine how his brain was tormented with curiosity
and how infuriating it must have been that she didn’t even have the courtesy,
or worse the ability, to keep count. “Does sex mean everything to her or
anything to her? Am I in love with a woman or a fiend? I’m sure these were
recurring questions of his.
Oh
Katherine is in a dire state, I assure you. She spends her evenings now crying
in front of the television, watching ideal versions of love and romance. When
he left it also took away her purpose in life. What has she to do now? After
years and years of searching, she can’t get herself to take up the quest again,
nor can she reconcile the idea of making house for anyone else, not when there
would be no way to reap the fruits of her labor. The idea of being anyone
else’s girlfriend or wife to her is inconceivable. She is simply married to her
memories.
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