Taxi to Paris

by Ruth Gogoll

  "Then you would've tensed up." She took her hands away carefully, then hugged me. "It was only part of my hand, not the whole thing," she explained soothingly. She let me go slowly.

  I felt so pleased and worn out, I could only imagine one place I wanted to be with her. I wrapped my hands around her waist and laid my head on her shoulder. "Come on, let's go to bed."

  "No." Her posture suddenly became defensive. "That wouldn't change anything either." She tried to work herself free from my hug.

  "Wouldn't change what?"

  "The fact that I used you." It was almost as if she'd admitted that against her will.

  "Used? What for?" I had no idea what she was talking about.

  "For what I just did with you." I hadn't actually felt like I was being used - more like satisfied.

  "I told you, that was fantastic." I tried to make a joke out of the whole thing. "You can use me that way as often as you like."

  "That's not funny!" She was annoyed.

  "So tell me what's so terribly sad about it." How was I supposed to know that? I couldn't identify any direct source.

  She straightened and stared off to the right, through the window and at the nearby rooftops. Her chin made an almost perfect right angle with her neck. I saw her jaw biting the insides of her cheeks. "I came back a week ago." So she hadn't lasted much longer in Paris! "I went back to work immediately." She hadn't really needed to tell me that; I would've assumed it anyway. "The first few days, everything went fine. I wasn't too busy, so my clients all got everything they could ask for. But obviously, it still wasn't enough." She laughed self- consciously. "Once a pro, always a pro!"

  I had never doubted her capabilities in this area, either. After the last few days in Paris, during which she had been such a completely different person, I felt doubly pained by the life she led back here, by the damage it did to her self-respect.

  She continued. "Until yesterday, I thought I could go on that way." Just like me!

  I suddenly became afraid. "What happened yesterday?" I looked down at her arms. She didn't look like she'd been beaten. My frightened tone of voice rattled her a little.

  "Not what you think," she reassured me. I exhaled.

  She went on. "Yesterday, two women came over, a couple. I've known them for a long time. They come in now and then, not very often. I really like them. And they're always very nice to me."

  Well, at least she had a couple of clients who were nice to her! I imagined what it might've been like if Karin and I had come to her as a couple. That must be odd. I never would've thought of it on my own. But I was sure there was a lot that I'd never tried before. I almost blushed. I remembered what she had just done with me. But that wasn't the issue at hand.

  "And it was precisely because they were so nice to me that it was so awful." She spoke of it like something out of a dream. "With the others, I could shut it all out. I was just there, not really present, but with those two..." Her shoulders trembled a little. I saw them, saw how tender they were with one another. I almost had to run away. Then they wanted me to join in, as usual." She shuddered again. "They touched me gently. They tried to get me into it. I always used to like that, even though they're clients. But this time ... I couldn't. And I couldn't give it to them, either, even though I wanted to." She was silent for a moment. I thought that was all, but then she began to speak again. "I sent them away. I pardoned myself and refused to let them pay, even thought they wanted to. I thought it was just because they were a couple. I couldn't bear to see their tenderness with each other."

  I could easily imagine that!

  "But that wasn't it." There was more. "With the next client, I could barely concentrate. I could hardly force myself to touch her. She complained about the bad service." What a way of putting it!

  Now she laughed, cheered up a bit by the memory. "I threw her out. I never did like her, anyway. But still, I'd never done that before."

  That was definite progress!

  "Then, a few hours later, I had another appointment. With that woman, I'd really never had any problems. She was fairly neutral to me. So I thought I could do it." She broke off. Then she said violently, "But I couldn't do it! I just couldn't do it." She was more surprised than dismayed. It scratched at her professional consciousness, at her work ethic. "I complimented her and begged her pardon. She was very understanding." What other choice did she have?

  "And then..." What, yet another one? Hadn't she made enough attempts already? "Then I had to think about you. I couldn't do anything else." She laughed, somewhat dismayed. "The espresso machine ran all night." She was unbelievably sweet. "I drank coffee by the gallon."

  "The rest you know," she concluded quietly. "I called you."

  I had to think about my reaction with shame. "I -".

  She interrupted me. "You couldn't do otherwise. I knew that. But I absolutely had to see you. That's why I came here." Now, she straightened her back, and her face became hard. "And then I used you to see if I was even still capable of bringing a woman to orgasm."

  That was absolutely the last thing I was going to believe!

  "Mm-hmm." I behaved as though I would seriously consider the possibility that that was how it had happened. "And you only came here to fuck me." Perhaps stating it brutally would bring her to her senses. That wasn't really my style.

  "Yes." She acted hard and unmoving. "Just for that."

  "You didn't think about anything else?" I recalled how she'd sat in front of my door in a miserable heap. How she'd spoken of yearning. That had been believable. This wasn't.

  "No." She didn't want to admit it.

  "Tell that to your grandmother," I replied carelessly.

  "I don't have a..." She stopped short. "What do you mean by that?"

  "Exactly what I said. As far as I'm concerned, you can tell it to my grandmother. I have one. But even she wouldn't believe it." That was short and clear. I was sick of beating around the bush.

  She'd turned to face me again. "Why don't you believe me?" She was irritated.

  I sighed. "I hate having to repeat myself like this, but if you insist..." I ticked off the reasons. "First: I love you. - Stay here!" I grabbed her by the sleeve when she tried to run away. "Second: You love me too, even if you continually refuse to admit it." She shook her head, lips pressed together tightly. I didn't bother myself with that. "Third: That's why you can't sleep with other women anymore. Fourth: You want to sleep with me for the same reasons. That's more than normal. Quod erat demonstrandum!" That stupid high school Latin class had finally proved useful for something! I took advantage of her confusion. "So come to bed now," I told her. I took her hand and led her off to the bedroom.

  She stopped in front of the bed when I let go of her, and looked down at it as though she'd never seen one before in her life. I had to laugh. "That is my bed," I pointed out. "Do you remember it?"

  She said nothing. I brushed gently against her arm. "Go on, get undressed. I'll give you a massage. That'll make you feel better." I turned around. "I'll get the hot water bottle and the oil."

  Although she still seemed rather skeptical, she began to unbutton her shirt. One could've ordered her to do that when she was fast asleep, and she would've done so immediately. Like almost everything her clients demanded of her. How could this continue?

  At the moment, in any case, with a massage! I went to the bathroom and retrieved the necessary supplies. I filled the water bottle with hot water. Then I went back to the bedroom. She was still standing in exactly the same position by the bed in which I'd left her, with the one difference that she was now naked.

  Had I really made the right decision with this massage idea? Didn't I really want something else instead? I savored the view of her naked beauty for a moment. I walked up behind her and kissed her between the shoulder blades without kissing her anywhere else. She yelped with surprise. Then I saw her shiver from head to toe, and a relief of tiny dots covered her skin. She laid her head back. Otherwise, she didn't move. "More," she w
hispered.

  It was a good thing my hands were otherwise occupied, or I might not have been able to control myself! I swallowed my desire. "Soon. First the massage." She stood exactly as she was. "Please, lie down." I'd never imagined I would have to order her to do that. "On your belly." Maybe that would cool her off!

  But she seemed not to fear that position quite so much anymore, at least not with me. She lay down on the bed with complete self-assurance and stretched out expectantly. I stuck the hot water bottle under the blanket. She was warm enough already!

  I took the oil and rubbed a little of it into my hands. "Hmm, that smells good," she remarked dreamily.

  "Cinnamon and cloves."

  "And a hint of musk," she stated knowledgeably.

  I smiled. "I think that's probably your perfume."

  "Could be," she replied, "but they mix so well. I hardly smell that anymore otherwise."

  That made her smell even better! Her scent drifted over to me. The combination was really stunning. I had to begin.

  I started by massaging her heels, very slowly and gently, for several minutes. Then I pressed my fingers carefully into the middle of her soles. I moved softly up to the backs of her knees and rubbed them gently. From there, I caressed the lengths of her calves down to her ankles. I stopped for a moment in order to climb into bed next to her.

  "That's quite different from the last time." Somewhat bemused, she realized the difference.

  "Yes," I confirmed. I knew what she was feeling, and she was going to feel even more of it soon. I traced her spine from her neck to the tops of her thighs, then once again to the base of her back. There, I pressed down a little with my flat hand.

  "What are you doing up there?" She was moving her hips back and forth restlessly. I felt the blood rushing through her veins beneath my hand. She must have been feeling the same thing in her groin. Her reaction confirmed this. "May I turn over now?" she asked impatiently.

  "Yes," I consented.

  When she lay on her back, she said to me with a husky voice, "My breasts are burning." She glanced excitedly into my eyes. "I want you to touch them."

  There was nothing I would rather have done. But I didn't touch her breasts. "Later," I promised her.

  She moaned with disappointment. I began to massage her again. I placed my hands flat on her hips and pressed them into the sheets. She threw her head about. I massaged her legs again, down to her ankles. She moaned. "I want to kiss you. Please..."

  "Not yet." It took an iron will on my part to deny her this request. I took her middle finger in my mouth and sucked on it. I ran over the base of her nail with my tongue. She dug her other hand in my hair. I freed myself from her hands and began to stroke upwards from her ankles once more, along the insides of her legs, up to her thighs. No farther. I repeated that about a dozen times. Then I ran along the very tops of her inner thighs, massaging her there as well. She moaned aloud at every gentle touch and began to breathe in short, excited gasps.

  I couldn't make her wait any longer. I stroked her pearl very softly and tenderly with my fingertips. She came in seconds with an intensity that mirrored the strength of her arousal. When she had calmed down again, I undressed myself and lay down next to her.

  She turned her head toward me. She smiled. "That was no massage."

  "Yes it was," I protested. "It was an erotic massage."

  "I noticed that. I've used some of those spots before myself. But I had no idea how intense that is." That meant she'd done something for her clients of which she knew nothing, or at least only theory. She shook her head a little. "My belly feels wonderfully warm and soft. As if the tension just melted away."

  "So should it be." I was, for the moment, completely satisfied. I snuggled up to her and pulled the blanket over us, which had been warmed perfectly by the hot water bottle.

  She slid her arm under my head and pulled me closer to her. "When you stroked the length of my leg the thousandth time, and stopped right before you got to the best part, I wanted to kill you!" she laughed.

  "Not a thousand. Twelve at the most," I corrected.

  "That was plenty for me. I do that with my clients three times at most. And that is sometimes too much." She spoke casually and relaxed.

  I looked at her. At the moment, we could talk about anything. That was wonderful. But I didn't just want to talk. I leaned over and kissed her. She kissed me back in a new way. It was erotic, yes, but also trusting, as if we'd known each other for years and no longer required any other means of communication.

  The telephone rang. I was so comfortable lying next to her, why should I pick it up? I let it ring. She stopped kissing me.

  "Don't you want to answer that?" she asked.

  "Why should I?" I answered in high spirits. "It can't be you. You're already here."

  She smiled. "Perhaps there are other people you want to talk to now and then."

  "Not at the moment." I continued to ignore the phone and sought her lips again. But she dodged me. "I'm sorry," she said, "but that's making me nervous." She started to get up. Her phone rang for only one reason. I understood why she was nervous.

  I hardly realized that she almost had the receiver in her hand. "No!" I called. She gave me a hurt look. "It could be my mother," I explained. "And she always gets so irritated when strange women answer my phone." She shook her head, picked up the receiver, and handed it to me.

  "Oh, Karin!" I was admittedly relieved when I heard who was there. I didn't think I could've handled an hour-long conversation with my mother just then.

  "I hear you've been back for awhile. And you haven't called me!" As my best friend, she had every right to complain about my silence. The reproach in her voice was genuine, but I could be sure that she wasn't really mad at me for it.

  "I've only been back for eight days." I knew that that was no excuse, certainly not in Karin's eyes.

  "Ten," she said softly from the background. I spun around quickly and gestured violently for her to be quiet.

  "That's no excuse," Karin scolded as expected. "After all, a lot of things can happen in eight days."

  "That's true," I admitted. I squealed. She'd kissed me on the butt. I turned around indignantly.

  "What is it?" Karin asked, a bit concerned. Our last telephone conversation had, after all, been of a serious nature.

  "Nothing," I asserted quickly. "I pinched my finger in the phone."

  "In the phone?" Karin was a little irritated.

  I couldn't say anything at that moment. She was kissing the nape of my neck and caressing my stomach at the same time. She was only doing that to annoy me!

  "Yes." Breathless, I tried to continue. "I have a new one with all the bells and whistles." She didn't stop. Now she was stroking my thighs. I gasped for breath.

  Karin laughed. "Now I understand. You're not alone."

  "No," I confirmed. I was incapable of anything more. She was teasing my breast with her lips.

  "Is she there?" Karin asked, interested. Apparently, she wanted to continue the conversation.

  "Yes." I could only gasp the answer. She had one of my nipples in her mouth now, and was running her tongue back and forth across it.

  Karin chuckled. "And you don't seem to be fighting at the moment!"

  "Not at all," I said to Karin. "But soon!" I hissed in her direction. She raised her eyebrows innocently, let go of my breast for a second, and waited.

  "The reason I'm calling...," Karin continued harmlessly. At the same moment, she took my other nipple in her mouth and began to suck it. I moaned out loud.

  Karin asked, "You're doing well, aren't you?" She knew precisely how I was. She was obviously getting heathenish enjoyment out of this.

  "You two are just the same," I squeaked between gritted teeth.

  Karin chuckled again. "I wanted to ask you if we can meet at the pub this evening." She was clearly repressing a giggle. "You can bring her along. When you're both dressed."

  "Karin!"

  Karin acted entirely
innocent. "Well, you always got undressed for it before. Don't you do that anymore?"

  "Stop it!" I said, directed at both of them. Her hand glided between my legs. I couldn't take it anymore. "We'll come to the pub." All I could do was agree. I was completely gone.

  "At eight," Karin specified. She laughed. "And have fun in the mean time!" She hung up.

  I let the receiver fall and collapsed onto the bed. She pulled her hand away and laughed. She laughed freely and high-spiritedly, as though she'd just learned it was a snow day from school.

  "That was mean!" I fumed.

  "Yes, that's true." She was still laughing, but she tried to control herself. "But it was so much fun!"

  "For you!" I scolded. "For both of you!"

  "She noticed?" she asked, smiling to herself.

  "Of course!" I snarled. "She knows me well enough from before."

  "Oh, yes," she remarked smoothly. "I'm convinced she can interpret all of your noises." She raised her hands in front of her face to protect herself from the pillow I threw at her.

  I turned my back to her. I felt her crawling carefully up behind me. She wrapped her arms around me. "Please don't be mad at me," she whispered in my ear. "You looked so seductively busy."

  "You've got a thing for that, eh? Driving me insane while I'm talking on the phone." I scolded her like a naughty pet.

  "I only just discovered it with you. And you do it really well!" She laughed teasingly.

  "And what do I get out of it?" I tried to sound annoyed, but I had really already forgiven her.

  She leaned against me. "I hope a lot." If ever a voice could be called seductive, it was hers. Her hands began to wander over my body. A short time later, I had to admit she was right. I seemed to get a lot out of it.

  As evening approached, I realized that she still knew nothing of Karin's invitation. And I had simply accepted. Understandable under the circumstances, but we weren't in Paris anymore. I didn't know if I could convince her to come along.

  We were lying together in bed, occupied with nothing other than rest and recuperation. I turned to her and caressed her cheek. She turned her pretty face toward me. I could barely look at her. She knocked me out every time. She smiled. I ran my fingers through her hair.