The Harem

by Paul Preston

  The tender way he looked at me made me nervous. I took a swallow of wine.

  “Thanks for the medical advice, but if you want my ass bent over that wedge next Friday, you’ve got to provide something more than these crumpets and cakes. Have you ever thrown an actual party, J?”

  “No, not really.”

  “I didn’t think so.”

  I finished my glass, poured another and sat down on the couch, petulantly crossing my legs and staring back up at him. There was a long silence in the room. I was getting cranky and needed a hit. Our first fight…

  “I get the feeling you won’t be staying for the night, Sapphire.”

  “I don’t do sleepovers J, sorry.”

  “May I call you during the week? I’m not sure I can wait until next Friday to see you again.”

  “You don’t have my phone number.”

  “301-453-3798.”

  “Hey! How did you—”

  “I didn’t think you’d give it to me, so I snuck in while you were in the shower and got the number out of your cell phone from the pocket of your jeans.”

  “You sneaky bastard! That’s invasion of privacy!”

  “I know. And you can’t sue me, you signed the contract, remember?”

  “Smart boy.”

  “I need to see you midweek. I won’t take no for an answer.”

  “I’m busy with my classes.”

  “You can study over here; say every Tuesday or Wednesday night. Whichever you prefer.”

  “Oh I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time to catch up on my ‘studying’ here.”

  “I promise I’ll leave you alone. You can work in the library. My home is your home now, Sapphire. What do you say?”

  “We’ll see. Bring something stronger next time, J. It’s supposed to be a party.”

  “We’ll see, Sapphire. Have a bite to eat. You’re too skinny.”

  J took another sip of his glass of wine, kissed me on the cheek and left for his next appointment.

  I felt bad about our little snit at the end. Sorry, J. But this girl needs her fix.

  So, dear diary, that’s the news from the Rockville Harem. Once I’ve got something juicy to write about, I’ll add more later...

  Chapter Five

  Evelyn

  After our… interlude Friday night, Jeremy escorted me to a couch in his living room with my virginity barely intact and handed me this journal to record my thoughts. I saw Cynthia there and one other woman whom I haven’t been introduced to yet. I can only assume both women had sexual relations with Jeremy tonight. They were both scribbling away in their journals. I decided to record my impressions while they were fresh in my mind. What in the world am I doing here? What have I done?

  Though you may not believe me, it was my original intention to come here in a completely loving and non-judgmental way to minister to Jeremy, just as I know Jesus would have. But rather than helping to save his soul and lead him back onto the path of righteousness, in one long sensual unforgettable moment, one extremely pleasurable kiss, I’m afraid I have willingly become another one of the lost souls here, one of the damned. I’ve plunged headlong from the light into the dark, and I’m not sure I want to go back. I think I might like it better in the shadows now…

  I’m twenty seven years old now, and I still don’t have a boyfriend. Even though everyone has always told me how pretty I am, I’ve had a little trouble meeting the right guy. I’ve gone out on a few dates with single men from my church, and though I had a pleasant time, there seemed to be something missing with each one of them. A spark of chemistry just wasn’t there. I was looking at maybe trying out some dating services like Christian Singles or Match.com, but the guys I saw profiled on those websites just didn’t catch my eye. Completely by accident I found on a Google search a site called Adult Friend Finders. After a brief look over the profiles, I realized quickly that this website was definitely not for me. The people on this site were only looking for partners to engage in acts of sex without commitment, not friendships as the name led me to believe. And they were certainly not looking for long-term relationships. Right before I was about to close the tab, I saw him. Jeremy looked so impossibly handsome in his picture, almost unreal, like a living work of art, a sculpture, with manly features but very warm soulful eyes.

  I immediately recognized him. A few years ago at my church, Jeremy had come with his wife, Debbie, to attend the confirmation of Debbie’s nephew, George, who I taught in Sunday school class. I remember Jeremy was very well dressed and he smelled so good that day. Even after three years the scent has never left my nostrils. He was the most attractive man I’d ever seen in my life. Of course, he was married so I put him out of my mind instantly. I had never seen him again. Then last year George’s family attended a Christmas party at the church and I saw Debbie, but not Jeremy. I discreetly asked a friend of the family about Jeremy and she told me Debbie and Jeremy were in the midst of a divorce. I was shocked. I wondered what went wrong with their marriage.

  Now I saw Jeremy again on the dirty website, looking for a “non-exclusive relationship” with his attractive picture next to his posting. I answered the ad and we chatted over the internet for a few days, though I didn’t reveal who I was yet. I agreed to meet him at this Starbucks on Rockville Pike. I thought I could remind him of our past acquaintance then. I was curious to find out what happened, why he and Debbie got divorced and why he was now interested in only relating to women on a sexual level. I remembered what a nice man he was, with such a warm smile and pleasant demeanor. Perhaps he was traumatized by his divorce? I discovered that I cared for this man and I wanted to help him in some way. I started adding a little prayer for him in my nightly meditation. I thought about him a lot and looked forward to our meeting at Starbucks with great anticipation.

  The day of our meeting finally arrived and I saw him sitting at a table, very sharply dressed, wearing the nice cologne I remembered, sipping a tea and reading the newspaper. He stood up when he saw me, greeted me warmly and bought me a coffee. My heart was racing as I sat down with him. He didn’t recognize me from when we met a few years ago at church. I’m not sure why, but I still didn’t tell him who I was and that I knew about his divorce. Was it deceitful of me? I think it was. I just… I don’t know. I suppose I wanted to spend a little time with him first, and get to know him, before revealing who I was. Maybe I was afraid he wouldn’t want to develop a friendship with anyone associated with the memory of his ex-wife. I know it was dishonest of me not to tell him who I was right away. Usually, I am a very honest person. Why was I acting like such a different person around Jeremy?

  I was extremely nervous and didn’t say much over coffee, but Jeremy chatted away in a soft friendly voice that put me at ease. He told me in a somewhat numb, matter of fact way the story of his divorce and the shocking way in which he discovered the infidelity of his wife. He actually witnessed his wife having adulterous sex with another man! I felt so sorry for him at that moment. I guess you could say I felt love in my heart for him as he told me the story. Even after all these months, he still had a distressed look in his eyes as he remembered the events, burying the pain somewhere deep within him. He went on to explain in a slightly embarrassed manner how he wanted to experiment with an alternative lifestyle, where he wouldn’t become fixated ever again upon any one woman, but would open up to several women at once. He would also give the same freedom to any woman who wished to enter into a mutual non-exclusive relationship with him. He would put no emotional demands upon them as well.

  The whole idea seemed a rather shallow arrangement to me. Why in the world would a person give the most precious and sacred part of themselves to another person, if not to increase the emotional and spiritual bonds between them? I know I am literally a virgin in these matters, but I don’t see how you can separate the spirit from the flesh in the act of love, since they’re two sides of the same coin, aren’t they?

  Jeremy ended up giving me his card and inviting me to his
home on Friday at 9PM. He let me know that other women might be there too, so I wouldn’t be uncomfortable if I did decide to accept his invitation. He told me I could come and just hang out at his house if I wanted. If I’d prefer to only be friends and keep the relationship strictly platonic, that would be alright with him. He needed a friend like me, he said. There would be no pressure on me whatsoever to become intimate with him. Jeremy did make every effort to win my trust at our initial meeting.

  Then the most delightful thing happened. Taking me by complete surprise, he reached across the table and tenderly took my hands in his and spoke to me in a most heartfelt manner. His hands were so warm, almost alive with heat. My fingers rested in his palms and my fingertips touched the inside of his wrists. As he spoke in this deep, melodious voice, I could feel the pulse of his heart through the thick blue veins on his wrists. His veins looked… pretty to me. I could almost see the blood coursing through the vessels, winding under his cuffs and disappearing into the dark tunnel of his starched white shirt sleeves.

  “Evelyn, I really appreciate you allowing me to share my thoughts with you. I want you to know, even if you don’t come on Friday, you’re always invited to my house, any time, to talk. Just call me or text me. I’ve written my personal cell phone number on my card. I want to tell you, I’ve really enjoyed meeting you today, Evelyn. You’re an exceptionally beautiful woman with a really sweet and feminine disposition. You really are an extraordinarily attractive woman. Do you know that?”

  I blushed and looked downward.

  “No, Jeremy. I’m not.”

  “But you are, Evelyn! You are! How could you not know that? Just look in the mirror, if you want proof. You’re so beautiful and sexy. Maybe it’s not such a good idea for you to come to my home, after all. I’m afraid I might develop an unhealthy attachment to you, which would be diametrically opposed to my exploration of this alternative lifestyle. As a matter of fact, I think it’s too late. I’m already attached to you. How could I not be, Evelyn? Look at you. Why hasn’t some guy come along, thrown you over his shoulder and run off with you? Oh my God, Evelyn. You’re so cute and sexy and loveable, I just want to squeeze you as hard as I can, hopefully without bruising you, and never, ever let you go…”

  I wanted to cry, what he said to me was so beautiful. No one had ever said anything sweet to me like that before in my life. Without my ability to stop it, my eyes filled with tears and dripped down my cheeks. He politely handed me his handkerchief. I dried my eyes and smiled. At that moment I felt compelled to tell Jeremy my most secret shame, my most hidden truth.

  “Jeremy… I’m a virgin.”

  “Oh, is that all? Evelyn, believe me, you have nothing to worry about in that department. When the time comes, whichever lucky soul you allow to become close to you will find a treasure in you beyond their wildest dreams. Now, stop crying before I get down on my knees in the middle of Starbucks and ask for your hand in marriage myself!”

  I smiled through my tears at his joke and stopped crying. Jeremy took his handkerchief and patted my cheeks with it. Being a virgin at age 27 didn’t seem all that troubling or embarrassing any more, after what Jeremy said to me.

  “You’re sweet person, Jeremy,” I said.

  I felt like I was going to start crying again, so I told him I had to go. I got out of there quickly, without even leaving money to pay for my coffee. I heard him call after me as I raced out the door.

  “I hope to see you Friday night, Evelyn!”

  I debated with myself all week whether I should go on Friday. There’s no way I was going to talk to my parents about Jeremy and there was certainly no one at church I could confide in. No one would understand. They would all think I was crazy to meet a guy at his home I had only met once, especially through a dirty website. I tried to pray about it, but I could no longer hear God’s council. When I shut my eyes to pray, the only image in my mind was Jeremy, holding my hands so tightly and whispering into my ear how sexy and pretty he thought I was.

  I showed up a little after 9 at his beautiful mansion and a well-dressed older gentleman, a butler I believe, greeted me at the door. He escorted me into a large library with brown leather chairs and couches. In the shadowy light, another woman was already there, waiting. I smiled at her and she gave me a tight grin back, appearing to be just as nervous as I was. Jeremy’s butler gave me this two page document to read, with a pen. It looked like some kind of contract I was supposed to sign. I noticed a similar document on the side table next to the other woman. I looked down and tried to focus on the words. At first, there didn’t seem to be anything in it out of the ordinary. I had to promise not to sue Jeremy, that I had come to his house out of my own free will, that I wouldn’t form an emotional attachment, (too late for that, I’m afraid), that I was in complete control of the relationship and that I could come and go at any time. On the second page the contract stated, “While in the house, all members of the Harem must wear clothing chosen by the Lord and Master.” I wasn’t allowed to wear my own clothes? What did that clause mean? And who was this ‘Lord and Master’? Was it Jeremy? Was Jeremy the polite gentleman he appeared to be, or did he have some kind of dual personality? It was certainly sacrilegious of him to refer to himself as a Lord. Who was he, really? What had I gotten myself into?

  I started having very paranoid thoughts, like I had come to the wrong address. Had I wandered into a house of ill repute? I kept rereading the contract. The word “Harem” was repeated several times throughout the document and it made me nervous each time I read it, like I was joining some kind of weird cult or something. I asked the butler when Jeremy was coming and that I had a few questions I needed to ask him before signing the contract. The gentleman called Jeremy through some kind of high-tech intercom system on the wall. I looked back down at the bottom of the second page of the contract. There was a line where Jeremy had already signed the contract and a line underneath for a second name. I picked up the pen and clicked it with a shaking hand. What was I thinking? Was I actually considering signing my name to this strange contract and becoming another woman in Jeremy’s Harem? Had I lost my mind? I noticed the butler staring down at me with a peculiar look in his eye. Suddenly, I felt trapped, like a bird in a gilded cage. Part of me wanted to get as far away from Jeremy as fast as I could. I wanted to run out of there and not look back, before they locked the door and trapped me in this madhouse forever. I tried to take a deep breath to calm my pounding heart and stop my hands from shaking.

  I tried to remember the reason I had come to Jeremy’s house, to rescue him from his life of debauchery. Rather than running off, I decided the best thing to do was try to relax, take a few more deep breaths, clear my head and wait for Jeremy to come talk to me.

  A few minutes later Jeremy finally arrived. Seeing his handsome face calmed me down somewhat. I smelled the familiar scent of his cologne. He looked comfortable, wearing an attractive black silk robe and what looked like black jogging pants. Jeremy introduced the other woman to me. Her name was Cynthia. Since she had arrived before me, Jeremy asked if I wouldn’t mind waiting for him in the library for about forty five minutes to an hour while he met with the other woman. He apologized profusely to me. He seemed embarrassed about the whole situation.

  “I’m so sorry to have made both of you wait. For this first introductory meeting at my home I should have set up staggered appointments, to keep you from waiting. This is all new to me too and like you perhaps, I am rather nervous. I’ve planned this evening out just dreadfully. Please accept my apologies. I assume you’ve both met my assistant, Billingsley? Billingsley, please bring a refreshment and something for Evelyn to snack on as she waits here in the library.”

  “That’s not necessary, Jeremy,” I said.

  “No, Evelyn, I insist,” Jeremy said.

  Since I was feeling a little hungry and thirsty, I didn’t protest further.

  “Well, that’s very hospitable of you, Jeremy. Thank you, Mr. Billingsley.”

  “
It’s my pleasure, Miss. Should I give her the packages as well, sir?” Billingsley said.

  Packages?

  “No, not yet, Billingsley. I’ll give them to her myself when I speak with her privately later. Will you be alright in here for a little bit, Evelyn?”

  “Sure, Jeremy. I’ll just relax and find something to read. Take your time.”

  “You’re very nice, Evelyn. Thank you for your patience.”

  He held out his hand to Cynthia and guided her out of the library. I was actually relieved not to go with Jeremy just yet. After eating a few tasty puff pastries and drinking a glass of sparkling water Billingsley brought me on a sterling silver plate, I cuddled up on one of the couches with a book I randomly picked out from his massive collection. I really hadn’t been sleeping well lately and suddenly felt extremely tired. Soon I’d fallen fast asleep.

  I felt a light tap on my shoulder and Jeremy awakened me.

  “I’m sorry to wake you, Evelyn. Would you still like to talk?”

  “Sure. Oh Lord, did I fall asleep? I’m sorry.”

  “Whatever for? My home is your home now, Evelyn.”

  I was so sleepy, but I think I heard what he said. My home is your home? What did he mean by that?

  The butler stood nearby and spoke in a hushed tone.

  “Jeremy, the young lady hasn’t signed the contract, as of yet. You’re lawyer recommends not to—”

  “Don’t worry about it, Billingsley. Evelyn has a kind heart. You’re not planning to sue me for all I’m worth, are you, Evelyn?”

  “Sue you? Why on earth would I want to do that, Jeremy?”

  “You see, Billingsley? She’s an honest person, unlike my ex-wife. I trust Evelyn explicitly. I’ll talk to her about the contract some other time. I see you’ve had a bite to eat?”

  “Yes, Jeremy. It was delicious. Thank you.”

  “Very good, then. Come with me. Let’s go somewhere we can talk privately. I really liked talking to you at Starbucks and I’m so glad you came tonight. I didn’t think you were going to show up. I know you’re very shy and it took a lot of courage for you to come here. I’m very proud of you for showing up and I’m really happy to see you.”