‘I didn’t know you were still doing that,’ Josie remarked.
‘She enjoys torturing people,’ said Mariana as she helped herself to a biscuit from a dark blue tin. ‘You’ve got to enjoy torturing people if you run an aerobics class. How about another coffee, Josie?’
‘Why not?’ Josie got up and began to fiddle with the cafetiere.
Crystal shifted nervously from one leg to the other as she unzipped her sports bag and quickly embedded the terracotta sculpture between a towel and a grey jersey. ‘Then I’ll be off. See you at the club?’ There was a hunted look in her eyes, a crisp quickness to her movements.
Mariana nodded. ‘Fine. Seven?’
‘Yes. Yes.’
Crystal’s actions were as hurried as her words. Her sports bag bounced energetically against her behind as she marched off down the hallway. She shouted a last goodbye before the front door slammed shut.
Once Crystal was gone and Mariana had used the lavatory, they both sat down again and pulled their freshly filled coffee cups towards them.
‘Smells delicious,’ said Mariana as she breathed in the aroma of the fresh brew before dunking another biscuit in her mug.
Josie eyed her speculatively. It had never been Mariana’s habit to stay long enough for a second cup. Josie recognised curiosity when she saw it.
Small talk over with, Mariana came out with the question she wanted answered.
‘So what’s Michael like in bed?’
Josie smiled. ‘Shouldn’t you be asking Crystal?’
‘Crystal?’ Mariana raised her eyebrows and looked as surprised as she sounded.
‘Oh come on, Mariana. I’m not stupid you know.’
‘So I see.’ Mariana paused and stared at Josie as if she were completely reassessing her character or rearranging her features. ‘But why didn’t you tell her you know about her and Michael? You could have done.’
Josie shook her head. ‘No I couldn’t. You see, the decision has to be Michael’s. I will not make the first move to divorce. I’m happy in this house and I want to keep it. That’s why the decision has to be Michael’s.’ Eyes bright with intent, she leaned closer to Mariana and lay her hand over hers. ‘But it will come, you know. Do you want to know how I know that?’
Mariana nodded slowly. Her mouth stayed open slightly. ‘Because Michael has a guilt complex and Crystal pities me. I’m not stupid, Mariana. I have no intention of ending up in a rented flat and having to go out to earn my living by lecturing to dreadlocked students who want to do their own thing as much as I do. I want the best deal possible and by working on Michael and Crystal, I can make damn sure I get it!’
Mariana’s expression seemed to have frozen on her face.
Her eyes were wide open like the lens of a camera that needs to get in as much light as possible in order to see the subject matter more clearly - and she was certainly doing that. Where was the softly spoken, gentle redhead she thought she knew?
‘You little minx! You’re a much shrewder bird than you make out aren’t you?’
Josie poured more coffee. ‘Like you, Mariana, there is much more to me than meets the eye. Now, you tell me what you and Jamie do in bed, and I’ll tell you about Michael and me. Is that a deal?’
Josie’s look was so direct, so probing, that Mariana had a strong urge to cover her breasts with her hands - as if she were naked. She hesitated before answering. But the challenge in Josie’s eyes was too powerful to ignore.
‘Alright,’ she sighed, her head nodding as if she were submitting to something slightly deviant. ‘Alright. But you tell me first.’
Now it was Josie who paused. ‘I’ll tell you about the first time with Michael.’
‘Fine.’
‘I had been feeling down, so I went shopping and came back with some new lingerie. I do things like that when I’m fed up. It doesn’t cure the problem, but it does take my mind off it.
‘That evening I immersed myself in a soapy bath and took a glass of wine in with me.
‘Then I got out, did my hair, put on my face... almost as if I was going somewhere with someone I wanted to be with. But of course I had nothing arranged. I was home alone and I was dwelling on the past.
‘Once I had sprayed a good dose of perfume all over my body, I added more eye shadow and liner around my eyes. I decided my lipstick was too pale, so I covered it with a bright red one.
‘After that I put on the new underwear. It was bright red - as red as my lipstick. I put everything on. The cups of the basque barely covered my breasts. I could see my nipples peeping out over the top of them. It did up at the front and nipped in at the waist. The suspenders were made of satin ribbon. I fastened them to some black silk stockings I’d also bought and put on a pair of high-heeled black shoes that I hardly ever wore.
‘Once it was all on, I looked at myself in the mirror. I pouted at my reflection, hands on hips, one leg elegantly posed like some high-class whore waiting in a scruffy shop doorway. And that was really what I looked like. Imagine it, me with my auburn hair, green eyes and white flesh, and wearing red. It looked obscene. I looked obscene.
‘I drank another glass of wine and laughed at myself. I twirled and pirouetted in front of that mirror and viewed myself in every position possible. I leaned forward so that my breasts almost fell out of their cups. They looked so plump and round and white, my cleavage so deep. I became totally absorbed in what I was doing. It made me laugh at myself.
‘I turned my back on the mirror and looked at myself over my shoulder. I was not wearing knickers. My bottom was still bare. My buttocks were two white orbs between the redness of my basque and the blackness of my stockings. Only the strips of satin suspender joined one colour to the other.
‘I bent over and opened my legs slightly so I could view my bottom more clearly and wondered how it would appear to some man with money in his pocket and a hard-on to fill me.
‘The dark pinkness of my sex peered out from between the curls of my pubic hair. I have very golden pubic hair, so I presented an even more vivid picture than I had before. I looked garish, tartish, ready to do business.
‘But it didn’t stop there. I had this terrible inclination to debase myself further, to imagine that some paying customer might want more than basic sex. I ran my hands over my behind. Oh, I almost forgot. My fingernails were painted red too. They looked like spots of blood as they ran down the cleft of my behind.
“‘You want what?” I said to the mirror. “You want to put it in there?”
‘Of course, there was no one there to answer, but I pretended there was. I smiled and told him to go ahead. Then slowly, so very slowly, I pulled apart the cheeks of my behind and shocked myself. The pale mauve of my rear opening seemed to be pulsating, as if I really was expecting some man to push himself into me.
‘My heart began to thud like a mad thing. Even though it was only my eyes seeing this brazen act, a blush came to my cheeks.
‘It was only when I turned my shocked gaze away, that I saw Michael standing there. His eyes were out on stalks and his mouth was hanging open.
‘I stood up slowly. I was as surprised as he was. How was I to know he was going to choose tonight to come round and bend my ear about his latest conquest?
‘Like a fool, I hid my sex behind one hand and covered my cleavage with the other. Not that it did a lot of good. There was a mirror behind me. He could still see my bare bottom. Besides that, my nipples were still poking out above my cups, so Michael was still getting a pretty good eyeful!’
Josie paused and took a sip of coffee. Mariana, who was chewing very slowly as she listened, offered Josie the use of the biscuit tin.
Josie shook her head. There was a light of enthusiasm about her, a need to go on.
‘As I was saying, there I was looking like a high-class hooker, and there wa
s Michael seeing more of me than he’d ever seen before.
‘He muttered something. I can’t remember exactly what. I think it went something like, “Josie. You look incredible.” I saw his hand shuffling around in his pocket. I knew instinctively that he was searching for money; that he wanted to buy my services!
‘I tried to laugh it off at first, but then I thought so what! Why not?
‘My hips swayed provocatively as I walked slowly towards him. I stood at his side and ran my hand down over his chest. I asked him what he wanted. What he was willing to pay. I remember seeing his Adam’s apple jerk as if he were swallowing it completely. His eyes were staring and had lust in them. Eventually, he managed to find his voice.
“‘I want everything,” he said. “Everything.” So I gave him everything.’
Josie paused and took another sip of coffee.
‘Go on,’ urged Mariana, her eyes bright with interest. ‘Go on, Josie. Tell me what you did.’
‘I will. It went something like this. I became what both he and the clothes dictated I should be - a paid whore. I ran my hands down over his hips as I sank to my knees. Slowly, I pulled his penis from his trousers. It was ready for action. It felt warm and smelt of male hormones, enough of them to turn me on.
‘I ran my fingers down his stem and poked them through his trouser opening. I felt the softness of his balls. They were like two ripe peaches, but it was his cock that interested me most. I grabbed hold of it with both hands and began to pull on it.
‘I heard him moan before his hand again went to his pocket. “A tenner if you suck it,” he said, and a ten pound note came floating down to the floor.
‘So I did suck it, but first I kissed its shiny end and dipped my tongue into its opening. Then slowly, and so very deliberately, I took his penis into my mouth. I felt the weight of it on my tongue and tasted the maleness of it.
‘‘‘I want your breasts out,” I heard him say as another tenner floated to the floor. I pulled my breasts from the cups of my basque so that they stood proudly and nakedly on their own.
‘‘‘Dip my cock between your breasts,” he ordered.
Along with the order came more money. I did exactly as he requested.
‘The warm head of his penis nestled in my cleavage. He worked it backwards and forwards as if it were my sex he was using.
‘‘‘Look at me,” he said suddenly.
‘I was loath to stop playing with his penis. I liked the warmth it spread across my breasts and I was enjoying the thrills that were running through my body. Besides that, I needed the money he was floating down to the floor. After all, I was a struggling artist.
‘I looked up at him. He was holding a wedge of money that must have been something like fifty pounds.
“‘It’s yours if you let me do everything.”
‘I told him I would do everything he wanted me to do and be whoever he wanted me to be.
“‘Then bend over in front of the mirror,” he ordered.
‘I did exactly as he said. I bent over facing the mirror. My face was now flushed with the exertion of sucking him. My breasts hung like ripe fruit from a tree.
‘He came up behind me and I knew immediately what he was going to do. He had seen me at my most brazen, my most vulnerable. My hands had been holding my buttocks apart when he had appeared. My anus had been open to his gaze. He couldn’t wait to have me.
‘I wanted to close my eyes, but I couldn’t. I wanted to see, to know fully what he was going to do to me. If it was going to happen, then so be it. I wanted my share of pleasure from this experience.
‘I heard his trousers drop to his knees. I saw him come up behind me and felt the warmth of his thighs against mine. But the heat of his legs were nothing compared to the heat of the penis that was so urgently pressing against me.
‘I couldn’t help breathing heavily. I was watching myself, but I might just as well have been watching a movie or reading some arousing passage from an erotic novel. I was out of myself, enjoying sex with Michael for what it was - something to be enjoyed for itself and not as some token of long-lasting love. There was none.
‘‘‘First, you whore, I’m going to put it in here,” he said to me. “You’ve already had it in your mouth, but I’ve paid you for your whole body, and it’s your whole body I’m going to use.”
‘‘‘Do as you please,” I told him. “You’ve bought me.”
‘He did exactly that. I braced myself as the head of his penis nudged at my behind. At first I felt a degree of pain as he thrust himself into me. But it did not last. Soon I was filled with a glowing warmth - no, not warmth, heat. It was heat.
‘The heat of lust and things untried spread swiftly over my body. This man was in me, using me, and I was letting him use me because I had been ready for a man to use me. I had dressed myself for the part and now I was playing that part.
‘I felt the roughness of his balls slapping against my flesh as he urged himself into me. I tightened my stomach muscles so that I could more easily take his onslaught and also embrace the intruder that had entered my body.
‘At last the full length of his penis was in me and his chest was on my back. I braced myself to take his weight and groaned with pleasure as his hands squeezed my breasts.
“‘First this for you, whore,” he said against my ear. “I want all your openings. First I had your mouth, now your rear, but I will leave the best till last.”
‘I cried out, groaned, told him to stop and told him not to stop.
‘There were times, as he thrust, that I thought I would burst. It was a strange sensation, but there he was using my behind, and yet his use of it was arousing erotic sensations in the rest of my body.
‘A heat of lust and desire was making my sex tingle with anticipation. Soon that too would feel the onslaught of his sexuality, and I wanted that sexuality. I wanted that penis in me.
‘He ran his hands down over my belly and, as his penis went on ramming into my behind, his fingers began to play with my clitoris. I stared at my reflection as my breasts began again to swing backwards and forwards like pendulums.
‘What a sight I looked. My breath caught in my throat. I thought I would faint away with the sheer eroticism of it all.
‘Just when I thought I would have liked it to go on forever, Michael slid out of me. He ordered me to turn round and face him. I did so.
‘My bottom stung slightly, but my sex was juicy with longing.
‘As Michael played with my breasts, he nudged one leg between mine. His penis followed and ran quickly through my flesh until he found what he was looking for.
‘He gripped my behind and thrust deeply into me. My breasts were squashed against his chest. I put my arms around his neck so I could hold onto him better.
‘I groaned into his ear. We were doing it standing up and, what’s more, we were doing it in front of a mirror.
‘‘‘Pretend it’s a shop doorway,” he said. “Pretend it’s a cheap, sordid shop doorway and I’m the tenth customer tonight.”
‘I wanted to laugh, but didn’t. We were like children playing games; mothers and fathers, doctors and nurses. Fact had been replaced by fantasy, a make-believe world with only a tenuous grip on reality.
‘I lay my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. His fantasy had become mine too. I was the whore in the shop doorway, doing this to make a living. I was sordid, I was cheap and I was available.
‘The money he had given me earlier lay scattered around my feet like empty crisp bags.
‘When I opened my eyes I could see my bottom jerking backwards and forwards with each thrust of Michael’s pelvis.
‘Because we were still half clothed, we looked more sordid than we might have done if we had been completely undressed.
‘There is something more naked about a man w
ith his trousers down at his ankles and his sweater resting around his waist. In fact, he looked even more lewd than I did with my red basque, black stockings, and high-heeled shoes.
‘But the scene in the mirror paled into insignificance as my climax started. You know how it is, it starts like a fine tickle in all the feathery bits of flesh around your vagina. Then it escalates until you don’t know where you are, but know damn well what you want to be doing.
“‘Shameless hussy,” I heard Michael say. “Whore! Slut! Tart!” And I knew that I was.
‘I was shameless in my desire. Once my orgasm had come and gone, and once Michael had shot himself into me, I was even more shameless as I scrabbled about the floor and got my hands on each and every bank note.
‘I was also shameless a few months later after we had discussed everything in detail. We would get married. I accepted what he wanted from me, and he accepted what I wanted. It was a binding contract we were entering into. Both sides would gain from it.’
After swigging back the last of her coffee, Josie threw back her head and laughed. ‘I also remember playing the part to the very end. I rolled those bank notes up and stuffed them down my cleavage.’ Hair bouncing with confidence, Josie looked pertly at Mariana who had listened in awe-struck silence throughout.
‘Well. There you have it. That’s my story of how and why I got married to Michael. Now, what’s your excuse?’
Mariana’s chin was still in her hand. She was staring at Josie as though she were some form of life that had fallen out of the wall. One blink preceded her hand at last falling away from her chin.
‘Well! I can hardly believe it. I mean... you... you!’ Josie smiled. There was a world of wisdom in her eyes. ‘But that is me. You see, I am an artist. I see things differently. There are a lot more sides to me than most people - except perhaps you, Mariana.’
For the briefest of moments, Mariana froze as though something clockwork inside had run down.
‘Me?’ she exclaimed and laughed. ‘I’m pretty ordinary. I don’t think you’ll find me very interesting at all.’ She laughed again. There was a certain falseness about it. Like her words, it was a lie.
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