Taxi to Paris (9 page)

"I'd really like to learn more about you," I began, somewhat haltingly. Before I could continue, she interrupted me with a dismissive gesture.

"There's nothing interesting to learn, believe me. If that's all you wanted to know..." She started up. "Would you care for a glass of wine? I'd like one." She waited for my reply.

"Actually... Yes, sure. Why not?" At least that would create another opportunity to converse with her. Although I didn't believe the alcohol would make her any more talkative. She wasn't the type for that. She would certainly have the self-control not to drink one drop too much, if it came to that.

She returned with a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and two particularly lovely wine goblets. After she'd poured, she handed me my glass and toasted, smiling. After that, she sat back down in her armchair. She didn't try to get any closer. She twirled her glass thoughtfully with one hand. "I don't know if you understand me," she said. "But I just don't want any trouble." She took a sip of wine and savored it on her tongue.

I felt rather overwhelmed. What did she mean by that? That I was going to cause her trouble, and because of that she'd rather have nothing to do with me? I developed an uneasy feeling in my gut. She seemed completely impenetrable to me. My intuition told me I should stay away from her, but at the same time, I knew that I didn't want to separate myself from her for a minute.

"Are you in a relationship?" she asked suddenly. She sounded amiably interested.

Would I be here if I were? I just looked at her. How could she assume such a thing?

"Oh, you don't think that makes sense?" It was as if she'd read my mind. Unperturbed, she continued, "Most of my clients," - she shot me a look, as if to see how I would react to that word - "are married."

I was surprised. "I thought only lesbians..."

"Well, yes, that's what they are - after a fashion," she said with contempt, "but of course they'll never admit that publicly. The particularly adventurous ones call themselves bi." Her expression got a shade more contemptuous. "But even they would never admit that they go to a hooker."

As much as I fought it, I couldn't hold back the fascination I felt with her lifestyle. It was so strange, so new and unfamiliar. But what could I ask her that wouldn't make me sound like a cheap, nosy tabloid reporter?

"You don't have to talk about it," I said, embarrassed by my own curiosity.

"Oh, it's not so bad," she said, once again passionless. "Don't worry about it." She reached for her glass and took another sip.

"I'm sorry," I said, shaken by her indifference and the pain I sensed it concealed. "But you get something out of it too -". Dammit! I bit my lip. I was confused and had groped for something pleasant to say. It just slipped out.

"You think I...?" She looked at me somewhat sympathetically. "I think you have the wrong impression of what it is that I do. I don't get satisfied, I satisfy others. Often I don't even bother undressing."

"I - I didn't mean... I'm sorry..." I was stumbling around in the darkness and couldn't find the way out. What a mess! "I just thought..." Yeah, thinking is a matter of luck, young lady. Sure, you insult me now, too!

Apparently, she had more sympathy for me than I had for myself. She went on, "If you really want to know, last week I had my first orgasm in two years."

I stared at her, dumbfounded.

She laughed. "Incredible, isn't it?"

That was certain! "You mean with someone."

"No," she said. "At all."

Now I was truly speechless.

"Believe me," she continued, as if this were ordinary small talk for her, "when you have ten women in a row, you no longer feel like doing it yourself."

"Ten?" The idea just about bowled me over.

"Well, not every day. But some days, sure." She laughed when she noticed that my mouth was still hanging open in amazement. "You never in your wildest dreams imagined a day like that, am I right?" She sobered. "I think that's enough for today."

It sounded so final that I didn't dare contradict her, although I had the feeling that it might get interesting if she continued. I had to doubt that I would catch her in such a candid mood again soon.

She rose. "I think you'd better go now," she said.

I didn't want that at all, but I didn't seem to have a choice in the matter. I felt wretched. But wasn't that my own fault? "So I guess dinner wasn't such a good idea," I suggested.

She shook her head. "Oh, no, I wouldn't say that. Normally, my clients don't even say hello to me when they see me on the street. And I act like I've never seen them before, either. You're a big improvement."

I felt like someone had struck a giant gong right next to my ear. That's what I was to her: an improvement in the quality of her clientele!

She looked at me as if stunned and took a step in my direction. "Pardon me," she said. "I didn't mean it that way." She put her hand under my chin and lifted it gently. "I get to spend so little time with people who..." She couldn't say it out loud, so she kissed me. She spoke that language flawlessly! It was a very cautious kiss. It was probably only supposed to be a little goodbye kiss. But during the course of the evening, so much had built up inside me that my desire awoke immediately and with all its might the moment her lips brushed against mine. She freed herself from my mouth again and stepped back. Should I leave now? I sighed. "I admire you," I said. "How can you always stay so calm?"

"I can't." Suddenly, she got very daring. She took a quick step toward me and kissed me again, for real this time. "I want you to stay," she whispered in my ear.

She had set me completely on fire, and I couldn't imagine anything nicer. Still, I hesitated. If I stayed, that would have serious consequences.

"Only if you want to, of course," she added immediately, noticing my hesitation.

I shook myself. Who could ever really know what would become of any given situation? "I'd rather stay, too," I admitted.

She didn't show any particular reaction, except that she smiled a little. "I'll be right back," she said, as she turned and walked away from me. With that, she disappeared into her bedroom and left me alone with the all-consuming heat in my belly.

I sat down on the sofa, somewhat tense. In order to think about something else, I tried to analyze our relationship - if that's what this was - up to this point. At least from my perspective. Maybe it really was love and not just a crush? Sometimes I felt so good with her, but then... I just couldn't figure her out. Every time I thought I'd found a solid foothold, she slipped out from under me like a ghost. That, of course, only heightened my desire to find out who she really was. I wasn't going to give up that easily!

Chapter 7

S
he came back into the room. She was wearing her silk robe. With a suggestive smile, she sat down next to me on the sofa. She smelled of something new - not too strong, but enchanting.

"What is that?" I asked. I buried my face in her hair and filled my lungs with the fragrance.

"That's my own perfume," she said. "I have it made in Paris."

"In Paris?"

"It sounds more luxurious than it is. Lots of women do it. And I fly to Paris sometimes, when I..." she searched for a word, "want to be alone." After the scene in the restaurant today, I understood what she meant.

"Come," she whispered without hesitation. She leaned over my body and sank into the sofa with me. The scent of her perfume, of her body, penetrated every pore in me. It made me dizzy, took away my breath.

"What's in it?" I asked, somewhat cloudy.

"Secret." She wouldn't say any more about it.

"If you want to seduce me, you don't need any help," I said, dazed. "I'm already crazy about you."

"I know that." She caressed me tenderly, gently, lovingly. "But it's even better this way."

She would certainly know that better than I. I entrusted myself to her. Her hands were all over my body, her scent all over my skin, her mouth - I didn't know where. It excited and tormented me at the same time. I suddenly found the sofa rather narrow, and told her that when she came up for breath between two kisses.

She smiled at me and reached behind me. "That can be fixed," she said. The back of the couch leaned flat. I sucked in my breath when I started to tip backwards, but the soft upholstery caught me again.

"Heaven!" I gasped, dumbfounded.

"Mm-hmm," she promised with relish. "You'll be there soon, I hope."  She lowered herself onto me, and I felt her hands again. Her mouth followed them everywhere. I writhed in pleasure. Good thing the couch was big enough now! She undressed me quickly and skillfully. I threw my arms around her and pulled her to me. The silk was still cool and smooth. It excited me in yet another way - or was it the scent again?

After a little while, she untied her belt and lay naked on top of me. Now, the silk draped over both of us, almost like a little tent. I felt her breasts and her skin as though they were my own, only much more intensely. "Isn't this lovely!" I moaned. Her wonderful body still covered mine like a soft, warm blanket.

She arrived at my mouth and kissed me. "Yes," she murmured, "and that's how it should be. I want it to be fantastic for you." She kissed me with growing desire. Her tongue was like fire in my mouth. I could only breathe with great effort. Nonetheless, I wanted nothing more than for her to consume me with that fire.

Slowly and carefully, she pulled away from my mouth. "Oh, no!" I protested weakly. Her lips wandered over to my ear and whispered sensuously, "I only have one tongue, darling." Then she moved down my body, so slowly it felt like torture. Lakes of boiling lava formed everywhere on my skin. Suddenly, something leapt into my head. Darling? Had she said "darling"? Before it was always - if anything - "sweetheart", and that, I was sure, she said to everyone. It hadn't sounded very loving or tender. And now? Darling?

I reared up, moaning loudly. Her tongue turned me into a mindless object of desire. She plunged deep into me. I couldn't wait another minute. "Please...," I said. "I can't take any more...". She stroked and kissed me in so many places at the same time. How did she do that? I gave myself completely over to her. Whatever she might have asked of me at that moment, I would've done it. I was propelled into a heaven of lustful satisfactions. I couldn't tell how long it went on. As I lay there gasping for breath, I saw from behind barely-open eyelids how she observed me. I couldn't decipher her expression. It was undefinable. With another woman, I would've thought... But she wasn't another woman. She was she. It was just the heat of the moment, I thought. One is always prone to such flights of fancy in such moments. It couldn't be more that that.

Chapter 8

I
awoke with sweet thoughts in my head. I felt the previous night's passion in every fiber of my body. My breasts burned, and I still felt a slight pulsing between my legs.

I'd heard of substances that enhanced sexual sensation, but such...!  And only a scent! But that wasn't really it either. She was the cause. She had brought out all those feelings in me. I only had to think about it, and already I felt a tingle.

I rolled onto my side and stretched contentedly. I was alone on the sofa-bed. She had covered me up. A bit of regret began to grow in me. Somehow, I'd hoped that she'd be lying next to me when I woke. But why should she? The sun shone brightly through the windowpanes and cast patterns on the linoleum. So it was no longer too early.

Still - where was she? The apartment was quiet. Not a sound anywhere. I glanced around the room, irritated. Did she also - I had to laugh in spite of a pang of jealousy - make "house calls"? I couldn't imagine that. And even if she did, then surely not so soon. But a small hint of uncertainty remained.

The key scraped in the lock. She came in and looked immediately toward the couch. When she saw that I was awake, she smiled softly. "Hello," she said in a silky voice that I'd heard from her only rarely. Actually, only in bed. And there, it turned me into a hopeless romantic with a spine made of gelatin every time. That is, if I wasn't that already. It worked this time, too. A great feeling of tenderness rose in me.

She had a paper bag in her arms, which she carried into the kitchen. "I did a little shopping," she explained in my direction. She smiled apologetically. "I'm not much of a cook to begin with, but I really didn't have anything at all in the house."

It suddenly occurred to me that I'd never thought of her as doing such mundane activities. But of course she had to do a few "normal" things also. Even she couldn't spend the entire day lying in bed. That thought sent another current of arousal through me. That's unfair, I thought. She's not lying down most of the time anyway. And that is a frivolous thought! a voice chattered again from the background. Oh, you again! I thought I'd gotten rid of you! I got no answer.

She returned from the kitchen and stopped a few steps away from the sofa. "Can I offer you anything?" she asked, quite the good hostess. For strength? I wanted to ask, but didn't. I looked at her.

"Yes," I said, entirely harmlessly. "You."

She stared at the floor. Had I gone too far? Then I caught a glimpse of her face from below. "You're blushing!" I was so utterly surprised that it just jumped out of me.

"Yeah." She looked up. "Am I not allowed?" Her voice took on a slightly defensive tone.

"Yes, of course!" I wanted to make up for my mistake. "It's very..." I swallowed my emotion, "charming," I said.

She smiled, reassured. "No one's said that to me in a long time," she said mildly.

The lump in my throat refused to subside. How could she just stand there and turn my world completely upside-down? I wanted her. I wanted her forever. And that was the catch. In a flash, I sobered. I threw the blanket over myself and stood up. "Could I perhaps take a shower here?" I asked.

She noticed the shift. "Of course," she said haltingly. "Everything is at your disposal." Putting it that way made it all even worse. She had said that the last time, when... I didn't want to think about that. I pulled the blanket tighter around me. When I passed her, she smiled again, as though - if only slightly - amused. I probably just should have walked by her naked. But I couldn't do that now.