Club Fantasy

by Joan Elizabeth Lloyd

  He climbed the two steps to the front door and knocked. The huge, totally bald, sightly menacing man who answered the door must be the man Marcy spoke of, the one called Rock. “Hello,” Glen said. “I’m looking for Jenna and something called Club Fantasy.” He thought that knowing about the Club might help him get to talk to Jenna if she wasn’t there at the moment.

  “I’m sorry, I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Glen didn’t expect such a quick rejection. “Jenna. Jenna Bryant. She doesn’t live here anymore but I really need to talk to her.”

  The man shook his head slowly. “I’m really sorry but I’m afraid you have the wrong house.”

  Glen knew he had the right house. He’d checked the address several times. And this was the guy Marcy had spoken of. What now? Maybe he needed a bit more honesty. “You’re Rock, aren’t you?”

  “That’s my name but there’s no one here called Jenna. I’m really sorry.”

  As he started to close the door, Glen said, “Please. I’m really an old friend of hers from back home. Can’t you help me?”

  The wary look on the man’s face relaxed slightly. “Back home where?”

  “Seneca Falls. Upstate.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Tell me more.”

  “My name’s Glen Howell and Jenna’s sister’s name is Marcy.”

  Slowly, the giant opened the door. “There’s no one here right now but me. Why don’t you come inside and tell me why you’re here?”

  Glen entered the comfortable house and, while Rock put his coat away, he looked over the living room. It seemed no different from any other living room, sofas, plants, a very comfortable lounge chair in front of a great-looking, big-screen TV. He sat on a side chair as Rock stretched out on the lounger, ankles crossed, looking like king of the realm. “Want to tell me about it?”

  What could he say. “Why were you so suspicious?”

  Rock’s laugh was warm. “Let me count the ways.” He raised his first finger. “I knew you weren’t a customer. No one arrives here unannounced and everyone is cleared six ways from Sunday before they even get the address.” He raised a second finger. “Jenna doesn’t use her real name. She’s Hillary Oakes to all the customers.” He extended a third. “We’re closed on Mondays and Tuesdays and anyone who knows about Jenna and this place would know that. Shall I go on?”

  “No.” He was amazed. She had taken lots of safety precautions. “Who are you and what do you have to do with all of this?”

  “Me? I live here and I’m here whenever we have customers. Sort of a bouncer.” He flexed a muscle. “Who would mess with anyone when I’m around?”

  “Have you ever had to bounce anyone?”

  “No, I haven’t, but I’m not the issue here. What are you doing here?”

  “I’m her ex-boyfriend.”

  “I know that. She talks about you a lot.”

  Amazed, Glen said, “She does?”

  “That’s the only reason you got in the door. She’s been really upset since her sister showed up unexpectedly a few weeks ago.”

  Who the hell was this guy and what was he to Jenna? Maybe everything had been a lie despite their wonderful dinners, phone conversations, and sex. “You two talk about ... things?”

  “Yes. We talk. And no, I’m not the new boyfriend. I’m a guy who happens to be a friend to both Jenna and Chloe. Until Jenna and her sister reached an understanding about what goes on here, she had only Chloe and me to talk to, so I’m pretty well informed.”

  Curious now, Glen asked, “What did she tell you about me?”

  “You want me to share secrets? I don’t think so, but I will tell you that she cares about you a great deal. How do you feel about her?”

  “I hate what she’s doing here.” Was that the entire answer?

  Rock smiled and nodded. “I don’t blame you. It must seem bizarre to an outsider like yourself.”

  Glen found himself warming to this strange man. “It passed bizarre a long while ago.”

  Rock laughed. “I’ll bet.”

  “Are there any more guys like you hanging around?”

  “No, but it’s a pretty busy place.”

  With a deep sigh, Glen said, “I thought she was in danger here. I didn’t realize what a professional operation this was. She’s got another name and everything.” He sighed again. “I thought it was just her and I believed I could talk her out of it and lure her back home.”

  “I don’t think she’d leave here right now.”

  “I guess not.”

  “I’m sorry this is so difficult, but it is what it is,” Rock said.

  “I know. The trouble is that she’s been with so many men. That bothers me as much as everything else.”

  “True enough. Let me ask you this. If you met her today and all those men were in her past, would you love her, anyway?”

  “I didn’t say I love her.”

  “You didn’t have to, but answer my question.”

  “I guess if it were in her past, then what business would it be of mine?”

  “Good man,” Rock said, nodding. “That’s the way I think it should be.”

  “But they’re her present.”

  Rock smiled softly. “I know and that’s the real problem isn’t it.” It wasn’t a question. “What was your sex life like?”

  Glen gasped. “That’s not any of your business.”

  “Maybe it isn’t but it might be something for you to think about very seriously.”

  Their sex life had been fine. He’d always seen to it that Jenna was satisfied. Wasn’t that enough? It had been a bit more creative since ... oh, shit. That’s why it was better. She’s learning from all those other guys. There’s no hope.

  Glen slumped in his chair. “Help me understand,” he whispered. He and Rock talked for a long time, then went out to a local Irish pub for a sandwich and several beers. Finally, after ten, they were back in the brownstone. “I hear what you’re saying and part of me really gets it, but part of me can only think that this is Jenna. The woman I wanted to marry, to have my children.”

  “That can still happen, you know.”

  “I don’t think so. I just couldn’t. Not now.”

  “Can I make a suggestion?”

  “Sure. Anything.”

  “Why don’t you make an appointment with Hillary? Experience what she’s like here for yourself.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Be a customer. See what all the shouting is about. See what she’s all about. I don’t know whether this is the real her or the one you know in Seneca Falls is, but I think you need to find that out, if only to put a period at the end of this phase of your life.”

  “I don’t think so. I just wanted to see her, talk to her, not play sex games with her.”

  “Don’t knock sex games. Remember, they are just that: games. Have you got a place to stay tonight?”

  “No,” Glen said, a rueful smile on his face. “I guess I hadn’t thought that part out. I thought I’d see her and some kind of magic would happen. She’d realize that she’d been wrong and we’d spend the night at her place, have wild, wonderful sex, then drive back to Seneca Falls together.” He scrubbed his face with the palms of his hands. “I’m not thinking straight at all.”

  “Probably not. Why don’t you stay here? There’s no one here but me until Wednesday and there’s an empty room upstairs. I can lend you whatever you need. Do some serious thinking and maybe we can figure out some way for you to deal with everything. Or at least take a few steps in that direction. If that’s what you want.”

  “I don’t know what I want.”

  “Then that’s the first thing you need to settle in your own mind.”

  Glen spent a sleepless night in a simple bedroom Rock had called the motel room. He thought about Jenna, Club Fantasy, and all the men she had sex with. He balanced that with what Rock claimed to be her feelings toward him, and his feelings toward her. When he met Rock in the kitchen the following morni
ng, he was no closer to understanding what he wanted than he had been the previous evening.

  “I still think you should be a customer and experience what she’s doing firsthand,” Rock said. “You’d learn a lot about your feelings, and hers.”

  “How could I do that? She’d know me in an instant.”

  “Not if you were someone who was very nervous about all this and insisted on being masked. We could set it up so that the room was quite dark.”

  “What about my voice? She’d know that right off.”

  “You could disguise it as best you could and speak very little, if at all. You could use my toiletries so you’d even smell different.”

  “Okay, so maybe I could pull it off. So what? What would that prove?”

  “It might prove something to you and it certainly would make up your mind one way or the other. Can you make love to her without thinking about other men? Without thinking about what she does to earn a living? Is she still the woman you love?”

  “It might help, I guess.”

  “What have you got to lose? You can’t just go back Upstate and leave everything no more settled than it was.”

  “Okay, let’s give it a go.”

  Rock called Jenna and asked her a favor. “I got a call from a guy who needs some of what you do best. He’s new at this, needy and nervous as hell, but he’s such a nice guy it’s difficult to turn him down. Would it be okay to make a date with him for tonight? He’s only got this one evening in town and he’s willing to pay extra. Have you got other plans?”

  “No,” Jenna said. “I guess it would be okay.”

  “He’s really shy so he wants low lighting and he’ll wear a mask. Actually, I think he’s afraid of being recognized. He might even be famous. I don’t have a clue. I just know that Erika vouched for him, so he’s legit.”

  “Okay. What fantasy does he want?”

  “He wants a knowledgeable woman to teach him about good, creative sex. A Mrs. Robinson type. You know, show him all the bells and whistles.”

  “I’ve done that one often enough. Sure, set it up.”

  At dinnertime, Glen went around the corner to a sandwich shop and sat for more than an hour over a meal he couldn’t eat, giving Jenna time to set up for the evening. At seven-thirty, the time Rock had arranged, Glen entered the brownstone. He was wearing one of Rock’s black shirts with his jeans, so there was no possibility of Jenna recognizing his clothing. Rock handed him a Halloween type of mask that covered only his eyes and nose, and fastened tightly to limit the risk of falling off. “You both know the set-up so say very little and just roll with it. You might learn more than you expect.”

  Glen shook Rock’s large hand. “Thanks, Rock. Whatever happens, thanks for all the advice.”

  “No sweat.”

  Glen made his way upstairs to the room in which he’d spent the previous night. As he opened the door, he saw only dim, flickering light coming from the adjoining bathroom. “I hope this is okay,” Jenna said from her seat on one side of the room. “I gather you want anonymity and that’s fine with me. My name’s Hillary.”

  “I’m Bill,” Glen said, dropping the pitch of his voice and sounding a bit hoarse. Being politically savvy, his choice of pseudonym was obvious.

  She grinned. “Ah. Bill and Hillary. I don’t know whether that’s the good news or the bad. But you’re not here for a political discussion.; Come on in and shut the door.”

  As Glen crossed the room, Jenna turned on a CD player. Soft music filled the room. “Let’s dance,” she said.

  Glen and Jenna had never danced together back home so this was new for him. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair. He was glad now that he’d taken Rock’s suggestion and used his soap, shampoo, and after-shave when he’d showered that morning. “Mmm,” she purred. “You feel nice.” She pressed her cheek against his shoulder. “I love slow dancing. It’s so intimate without being threatening. Don’t you think so?”

  “I guess,” he mumbled.

  “You know, if you hum along with the music I can feel the rumble in your chest. It’s really sexy.”

  “Mmm,” Glen said, agreeing with her. Then he found himself humming the familiar song.

  “Nice.” After several minutes, she said, “Would you like a drink?”

  “No, thanks.” Alcohol would only dull his senses.

  After another song and lots of body contact, Jenna slowly slipped her hand up to his neck and pulled his face toward hers. The kiss was unexpectedly soft, a light touching of lips and teasing of tongues. She nipped lightly at his lower lip, then changed the angle of the kiss to make more intimate contact. “You taste nice.”

  He’d chewed a mint before he’d arrived just in case she could recognize his taste, although he didn’t know whether that was possible. Somehow, now, even though all this must be phony, he was glad she was pleased.

  “Tell me a little about you. I know you don’t want to talk much, but maybe you can help me a little. Have you had sex before?”

  He chuckled. “Yes,” he said, keeping his voice to a hoarse whisper.

  “That’s good. Was it nice?”

  “Very.”

  “That’s even better. I’m here to teach you whatever you want. What do you want? Could the sex have been even better?”

  “Maybe. I don’t really know,” he said, unsure how to answer her question. “What do you enjoy?”

  “This is all for you,” Jenna said. “What I enjoy is irrelevant.”

  “But if you’re not enjoying it, then how can I?” Glen realized that he was talking too much, but he kept his voice unnaturally low and continued, “I need to know about women.”

  “Okay. I don’t know about other women, but I guess I like pretty much everything.”

  “Cop-out answer.”

  Jenna chuckled. “Right.” She paused. “Okay, I guess I like soft, slow lovemaking best. The kind with lots of touching and stroking.” She pulled his shirt from the waistband of his pants and ran her hand over his back, her feet still moving idly to the music.

  “I like that too,” Glen said, stroking her back through her soft, thin sweater. For long moments they moved and touched, her hands sliding over his body. She scratched her long fingernails down his back just enough to leave a tingle. “If I like something I usually think the woman does too. Is that true?”

  “Usually. I think men like it faster and harder than women do, but maybe that’s a stereotype.”

  “Well, I like this,” he said, reaching beneath her sweater and making a path down her back with his nails. She arched her back and pressed her pelvis against his.

  “I do too.” She looked up at him. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

  “So are you,” he whispered. While he pulled her sweater over her head, she unbuttoned his shirt. Soon her bra was draped over a chair and they danced, bare chest to bare chest. She undulated so the heat of her nipples scorched a path over his bare skin. He pressed his groin against hers, letting her feel his arousal. “I’m all for delaying gratification but I’m getting very hungry for you.” As Glen said it, he realized it was true. Despite his doubts about Club Fantasy, he still loved her and wanted her. How could that be? She was a prostitute. Okay, Rock had told him about Erika and her husband but that was them and he couldn’t be like that.

  While he’d been musing, Jenna had been removing the rest of his clothing and hers. Soon they were naked on the cool satin bedspread. How many men had she been with in this room? When she wrapped her fingers around his cock, however, he ceased caring. He reached for her breasts and filled his hands with her flesh. He leaned down and sucked one into his mouth, pulling on them the way he remembered she liked, and listened to her moan. This wasn’t a con. She was truly enjoying what he was doing. How could she? To her, he was a stranger.

  Conflicted, yet aroused, he stroked and fondled, finally reaching between her legs and combing his fingers through her carefully trimmed pussy
hair. She was writhing beneath his hand, thrusting and stroking his fingers with her wet flesh. God, she was so wet. She couldn’t fake that. She obviously enjoyed lovemaking. The fact that she got paid for it was less important to her than that, he reasoned.

  “I want you,” she said, biting his earlobe. “I hope that’s what you want.”

  “God, yes,” he growled. She took a condom from a bowl on the bedside table and unrolled it over his erect cock. He wanted to be repelled as he drove into her. So many men had done this, but she was still Jenna, and he found that he didn’t care about the others.

  He found her clit with his fingers and, while he thrust, he rubbed her the way he knew would push her over the edge. It did, and as she screamed her pleasure, he came as well.

  They lay side by side, her head cradled on his shoulder, his fingers idly running through her hair. “That was fabulous, Jenna,” he said.

  Immediately he felt her stiffen and he quickly realized what he’d just done.

  “You called me Jenna,” she said, then sat bolt upright and pulled off his mask. “Glen. My God.” She leaped off the bed and grabbed her sweater from the chair and clutched it to her breasts. “My God. What the hell are you doing here?”

  Shit, shit, shit. Glen. Jenna couldn’t sort out the jumble of her thoughts. She got a lightweight robe from the closet and wrapped it around her, then dropped into a chair. “What the hell are you doing here?” He looked so sweet, the lying son of a bitch.

  “I originally came to talk to you and get you to give this all up and come home.”

  “What do you think gives you the right?”

  “Nothing gives me any rights. I realize that all too well. I just know that I love you.” His voice was soft and so warm. “I know now that this was a crazy idea. I’m sorry. I know that isn’t enough, but I’m so very sorry. God,” he said, dropping his head into his hands, “coming here was a totally dumb idea but I couldn’t think of anything else to do.”