Panties for Sale (12 page)

“Chico?
 
Are you
ready?” Ms. Macdonald was standing beside Chieko, smiling down at her.

Chieko looked up in surprise.
 
“Hai, yes?”
 

“It is your turn now.”

Chieko looked around the room.
 
Everyone was staring at her.
 
“I am Chieko,” she started slowly, twirling
her hair around her finger.
 
“I am from Japan.
 
I arrive in Toronto, I think, 6 months ago,” she paused
and pretended that she was thinking of the right words. “I am, I am a student,”
she blurted out.
 
“I am study at the
university.”

“Good for you, Chieko!” Ms. Macdonald smiled that wide warm
smile of hers.
  
“Did you come here by
yourself?”

“Yes, yes, all alone, yes.”

“And you have been living here for 6 months?
 
That is wonderful.
 
Now, what are you studying?”

“Oh, I am study, how do you say,” Chieko paused.
 
She hadn’t thought of what she was
studying.
 
She looked around the room,
desperately trying to think of something she could study.
 
Her eyes fell on the Filipino girls’ toe
nails. “The fashion.”

“Oh how interesting.
 
Fashion design!
 
That is just
wonderful. I will have to ask your advice before I go shopping next time.”

“Yes.
 
Domo, thank
you,” Chieko shrank back down into her seat.
 
She glanced over at Jay whose head was down, writing in his notebook.

Dear Diary,

Well.
 
Last night was quite the night.
 
You will be impressed with me.
 
But I must start at the beginning and leave the
happy ending to the end.
 

John came home late again
last night.
 
And he went straight up to
our room.
 
Fine.
 
Whatever.
 
So, when I had finished my glass of wine and my gratitude list, of which
he was not on.
 
I am just sick of his god
damned antics.
 
No business man ever
needs to stay late at work every night.
 
Especially when said business man is a contractor working on a
construction site.
 
What could possibly
be keeping the man at work?
 
Plans are
already made.
 
Construction is
started.
 
And those boys don’t work in
the dark.
 

So, after I made my list I
went down stairs to the bedroom.
 
And
there was John sitting on the bed.
 
Just
sitting there.
 
Waiting for me, he said
he was.
 
He said he couldn’t go on like
this anymore.
 
He didn’t want to continue.
 
I deserved better.
 
First god damned thing he said right in a
good long while, let me tell you.
 
Well,
I’d had a few glasses of wine, so I wasn’t as restrained as I might have been
and I laughed at him.
 
I did.
 
He is ridiculous.
 
With his high and mighty
 
‘I’ve got to solve this problem’ shit.
 
It was him.
 
He’s the damn problem to begin with.
 
And then, Jesus almighty, the man starts crying.
 
What is up with this man?
 
I cannot handle a grown man crying in front
of me.
 
It freaks me out!

So I relented.
 
I gave in and sat beside him and comforted
him.
 
And then the whole long story comes
out.
 
He just has to tell me.
 
Aren’t I lucky?
 
Ok, I guess it’s good.
 
We need to work it out together, for the
boys.
 
That’s true.
 
Ok, so my beloved husband, of who I have not
been sleeping with for the past few months, because honestly?
 
I didn’t want to.
 
It wasn’t good for me.
 
It was stale.
 
Just like running through the motions.
 
Too be honest, washing dishes was at times more exciting and less
painful.
 
So this lout beside me, tells
me….

Are you ready?
 
Ok.
 
He
is a sex addict.
 
How is that even
possible?
 
If you are addicted to
something that was sitting in your house, waiting for you, for free, wouldn’t
you, I don’t know, use it?
 
We haven’t
had sex FOR MONTHS!!!!!!
  
But he told me
he couldn’t push me.
 
He knew I didn’t
want him.
 
Get this, he said he knew I
was going through something and he respected me.
 
Respected me.
 
Respected me so god damned much that he went out and screwed half the
population of Toronto.
 

Get this.
 
This part, oh jesus, but I had to bite my
lip.
 
He told me he was spending most of
his nights, the ‘late working nights’ at his office.
 
The goddamned son of a bitch was holed up in
that cheap ass trailer on the construction site, online, whacking off on his
web cam.
 
HA!!!!!!!
 
Yes.
 
He bought a web cam.
 
And yes, he
sat online and whacked off while someone watched.
 
My husband!
 
He could have been with all my girls.
 
Any of my girls.
 
I have a literal
shop of girls in and out of here.
 
If
that’s what he wanted all he had to do was ask.
 
But here he was, trying to be discrete -meeting these women online, and
then, in person.
 

But once he fucked them, he
didn’t want anything to do with them.
 
He
could barely get excited enough to finish fucking them.
 
It was all about the chase.
 
I asked him how he got this way.
 
He never used to be.
 
Was he?
 
And he didn’t know.
 
Thought maybe
it was the porn on the internet.
  
Yeah.
 
The porn on the internet.
 
Jesus Christ.
 
Bloody hell.
 

Of course, lucky it happened
to me, right?
 
Because I am Toronto’s
expert on sex and I know how to handle this.
 
Or not.
 
He did tell me, he never
paid for sex.
 
Why pay when you can get
them online?
 
Which fascinates me!
 
I have to admit.
 
It sounds like I have quite a bit of
competition.
 
I never really thought
about it before.
 
Never realized it was
that big.
 
But if girls are that easy to
find online, for free.
 
Why would a man
pay?
 
Shit.
 
I’ve got to do some research on that.
 

So, back to John. We stayed
up talking all night.
 
He cried some
more, lord help us.
 
And we cuddled.
 
And made out a bit.
 
No, not sex.
 
But I fell asleep in his arms.
 
And it felt good.
 
Really
good.
 
Like I was home.
 
Like I was safe.
 
Is that wrong?
 
Maybe we can make this work again.
 
No, I’m not going to rush into sex
though.
 
From the sounds of it, that’s
the last thing he needs.
 
Or wants.
 
And anyways, after that confession, I’m not
ready.
 
Well, he’s not ready either.
 
I told him he would have to go to
therapy.
 
Not Luann.
 
Of course.
 
But real therapy.
 
I can’t heal him.
 
And I can’t have him around the boys with
this sex addict shit.
 
He needs a real
doctor to help him.
 
He apologized and
begged me to forgive him.
 
He did.
 
Right there.
 
Crying in my arms.
 
Wrapping his
arms around me and crying into my stomach.
 

What could I say?
 
I told him I’d give him another chance.
 
I know, I should kick him out.
 
But it’s a slippery slope.
 
I mean, I’m not housemother of the year.
 
Nor wife of the year.
 
I was tired of him and his boring sex.
 
Maybe he was tired of me.
 
Maybe we both lost the magic.
 
And blocked each other off.
 
I could have told him, that I didn’t want to
have to do all the work.
 
I guess.
 
I could have asked him to adore me.
 
To pleasure me.

Why didn’t I?
 
I don’t know.
 
I just stopped wanting him. Yes.
 
Maybe we need to go to therapy together.
 
He is really a good man.
 
The boys
need a father.
 
Truth be told, they are
his kids.
 
I can’t just kick him out of
their life.
 
And I want him to get
well.
 
It’s good for us to talk this
out.
 
Get it sorted.
 
And maybe, just maybe, if he goes to therapy,
and works through this, I can have my husband back.
 
And we can be a proper family again.
 
Yes.
 
Imagine that.
 
That would be
wonderful.

 
Luann told me to watch, once I started to heal
myself that others around me would start to heal.
 
It would break down old patterns and change
habits.
 
Well, Jesus H. Christ it has
done that.
 
So Luann, thank you for your
healing, darling.
  
Fuck.

“My turn, my turn,” giggled Chieko as she ran over and
snatched the golf ball out from the cup and returned it to the tee off spot by
the door.
 
She bowed, then reached up for
the putter but Carl held tight to the handle. Surprised, she gritted her teeth
and the two playfully struggled until Carl let go and Chieko fell backwards.

“You are not nice man, Mr. Roberts,” Chieko wagged a finger
in his face.
 

“You are such a tease, Abby.”
  

Chieko had been surprised when Angela had called.
 
She had thought she would never hear from
Carl Roberts again after that first embarrassing appointment.

“Girl, this is a miracle!” Angela said. “I can’t believe
it, but he called and specifically requested you.
 
He never requests the same girl twice.
 
I thought you said it didn’t go so
well?”
 

“Yes,” Chieko said, “I didn’t think he was happy.”

“Ok, well, I guess there was something there.
 
You know, I think you were right to take
things slow.
 
I mean, Mr. Roberts has the
potential to be a wonderful regular client for you.
 
I don’t want to pressure you, but, well,
maybe, Mr. Roberts needs to have some fun first. Do you know any games you can
play with him?
 
Or maybe talk to
him.
 
Keep it light hearted.
 
Take it slow.
 
Do you think you can do that?”

“Hai, yes.” Of course Chieko could do that.
 
Especially if it meant one solid regular.
That’s what she wanted.
 
Old boring
regular rich clients.
 
Clients that were
dependable, that she knew how to please and maybe even liked.
 
Her plan seemed to be working at least with
Carl.
 
He was much more relaxed after she
started playing games during their appointments.

Chieko wasn’t sure if Mr. Roberts was stressed out from
work.
 
But she could tell that he did
really need to relax and to laugh more.
  
On their last appointment, they played strip poker. Only Chieko had to
remove her clothes, but Carl had to put them on.
 
Chieko was rather strict with Carl and kept
her distance.
 
He was only allowed to
look.
 
No touching.
 
The more she forbad him to touch her, the
more he seemed more eager to see her.
 

“Ahhh,” Chieko pretended to yawn. “I am too tired.
 
You are too good. You tire me out.”
 
She flopped down on the couch.
 

“Don’t you want to play naked?”
 
Carl held out the putter.
 
“Every time you miss a shot, you have to
remove at piece of clothing.”
 

Chieko eyed Carl curiously. He had never suggested anything
before.
 
“You are so big strong sexy
man.
 
I can’t resist you,” she giggled,
as Carl walked over.
 
“I think we should
play another game,” she smiled and twirled his tie around her fingers.

“Oh really?
 
What did
you have in mind?” Carl stepped closer..
 
Chieko didn’t give him any time to think about it.
 
She slipped to her knees and undid his pants
before he could protest.
 
She worked hard
and fast. To surprise, her efforts worked.
 
She could hear his breathing grow heavier as he swelled in her
hands.
 
Suddenly, with a loud long groan,
Carl shuddered.

“My dear,” he gasped after he caught his breath, “what have
you done?
 
Two weeks ago I would never
have imagined.”
 

Chieko wiped her mouth and smiled in triumph.
 
“You always had the strength in you.
 
I knew that.
 
I just helped you.”
  
She had taken
a big risk in moving so fast.
 
If that
hadn’t worked, she might have lost her first regular client.
 
But it did work.

“How did you do that?” Carl took Chieko by the hand and led
her to the couch, pulling her down to sit close to him, wrapping his arm around
her.
 
“I was so afraid.
 
Do you know?
 
I thought it wouldn’t work ever again.
 
I have tried so many things.
 
My
poor wife.
 
She has no idea what is wrong.
 
I couldn’t tell her.
 
I have ordered every herbal quack pill on the
internet I could find.
 
I have been to
every massage parlour.
 
And then I found
Angela.
 
She said her girls could
help.
 
She said be patient.
 
I was.
 
But it wasn’t working.

Do you know Chieko, my darling pearl, you were the last
hope?
 
I was going to quit with
Angela.
 
It wasn’t working.
 
I was ok with that.
 
I have lots of money.
 
I have a great job.
 
I would find happiness some other way.
 
But your picture.
 
And you.
 
Oh you are so gorgeous.
 
And
tiny.
 
And delightful.
 
I just couldn’t resist.
 
I had to try.”
  
He sighed again. “How did you know I could
do that?
 
I mean, I always thought I had
it in me,
 
I refused to accept defeat.
 
But my wife.
 
Won’t she be surprised?
 
She is always
mumbling that I am too miserable.
 
I was
miserable.
 
So miserable.
 
I thought my life was over.”

Chieko rested her head on Carl’s trying to follow as he
talked.
 
Her body was safe and warm,
nestled against Carl’s big solid body.
 
His voice was low and when Chieko stopped trying to understand, it
became like a deep melodic lullaby.
 
She
let her body relax as her mind wandered back to her English class and Jay.
 
Someday it could be his body she was leaning
against with his strong arms wrapped around her.
 
No.
 
Damé, she scolded herself.
 
She
couldn’t think of Jay now.
 
Not on an
appointment.
 
Plus, she hadn’t even
spoken to him yet.
 
Wonder what he is
doing now?
 
Probably at the university,
studying in the library.
 
She pictured
his head bent over a book, scribbling down notes.
 
Wonder if he’s thinking of me?
 
Chieko!
 
Stop it.
 
Of course he’s not.
 
Think of something else.
 
Another client?
 
No.
 
That’s no fun.
 
Mr. Roberts is a
nice client.
 
I am lucky, she told
herself thinking of some of the other clients from the past few weeks.
 
And then her mind wandered back to her past
years, where she had first learnt how make money from men.

Shibuya Girls School.
 
That was the ‘tongue in cheek’ name of the sex shop in Tokyo.
 
It that had nothing to do with reading or
writing, but it did have an enormous cardboard cutout of an anime girl in a
teeny tiny school uniform bending over ever so slightly in the front window,
which seemed to attract just the right sort of perverted middle aged Japanese
businessmen.

There was this one, a very old, very skinny businessman;
Pee-Head.
 
That’s what Chieko had
nicknamed him.
 
She wasn’t allowed to
know his real name.
 
He had specifically
requested Chieko after he had bought a few of her panties.
 
She never had to actually meet Pee-Head.
 
Not face to face which she was glad
about.
 
The sex shop set up the
appointments for her.
 

Every Thursday evening at 10 pm, Chieko would sneak out of
her dormitory and take a taxi to the sex shop.
 
She would wait in a special room, which Pee Head always reserved for
her.
 
The room was basically a small
tiled closet with a toilet in the middle.
 
There was just enough room to turn around and sit down.
 
The bottom of the toilet was cut out and
underneath was an empty space and below that, a drain. A large mirror covered
the wall behind the toilet.

The first time, Chieko had no idea what she was supposed to
do, so the clerk had to come in and explain.
 
Apparently, Pee Head sat in a small room behind the two way mirror.
 
He wanted nothing more than to sit and watch
as Chieko relieved herself.
 
“You can’t
be serious!” Chieko had burst out laughing.
 
But the pay was so much higher than what her panties brought, she had to
agree.

But she had also been completely unprepared.
 
She had to sit on the toilet in the tiny room
for over an hour, reading magazines and singing to herself till nature finally
decided to call.
 
After that first
appointment, she always drank 4 or 5 glasses of water just beforehand.
 
And after a few successful appointments,
Pee-Head doubled her fee.
 
He was
rewarded with the privilege of pulling back a panel in the floor, lying on his
back, squeezing his head into the small space between the floors under the
toilet bowl and being showered with Chieko’s golden urine.

“What is so funny precious?”
 
Carl asked.

“Oh, so sorry,” Chieko hadn’t realized that she had just
laughed out loud. “I just remembered something.”
 

“I know, my dear,” Carl kissed Chieko on the top of her
head. “I am boring you with my stories.
 
It’s just that I feel so happy with you.
 
I can’t talk like this with my wife.
 
She would never sit still enough to listen.
 
Always complaining, that lady.
 
But you, darling, you are so nice, so kind,
so understanding. And so sexy.” He reached over and squeeze Chieko’s hand.
“These past times have been so pleasant.
 
I mean, even before our miraculous discovery today.
 
I think you are the reason my blood pressure
has gone down.
 
Excuse me, my dear,” he
carefully extracted himself from Chieko and struggled to lift himself up from
the couch.
 
“Now where did I put my
jacket?”
 
As Carl rummaged around the
room, looking for his jacket, Chieko bit her lip. She still couldn’t get over
how fat he was.
 
When he bent over, his
behind made a perfect, jiggly, gigantic, heart shape.

“Aha!
 
Here it is my
dear,” Carl handed a small box to Chieko and then straightened up slowly; his
face beat red from the exertion.
 
“I saw
these and thought immediately of you.
 
I
have decided to call you my Oriental pearl.”
 

“Oh sugoi,” Chieko untied the ribbon and opened the box to
reveal a beautiful bracelet of pink pearls.
 
“Beautiful!
 
Domo. Thank you.
 
You are a very kind man.”
 
Chieko climbed up onto the couch, pulled Carl
close and smacked a big kiss right on the top of his balding head.
 

“Ohma!” Chieko cried out as her cell phone rang from the
bottom of her purse.
 
“My phone!
 
I have to go! ” As Carl turned around to look
for the purse, Chieko took two of the small pearls and grinded them
together.
 
Good man, she thought as she
smoothed the gritty bits away to reveal the pearl’s natural shine.
 
They are real.