Taxi to Paris (2 page)

The sensations washed all my reservations away. "Yes," I moaned.

She stroked my hard, erect nipples, alternating her hands and tongue. I was crazy with desire by this time - I couldn't have stopped her from doing anything at this point, regardless what. Her face was suddenly square in front of mine. She wandered along my lips - just lightly, without hurrying. I tried to hold onto her. She smiled and pulled away. Her hand glided over my breasts, along my stomach, and between my thighs. She stroked gently with two fingers along the insides, wandering back and forth from one side to the other, then touched the center. I wound myself in her arm. Now, she began stroking more intensely between my legs, seeking out with circling motions the most sensitive place. The whole time, I felt as if I were just about to explode. She pressed harder. I felt her finger. She found my opening.

"No!" I tore myself away from her mouth.

She stopped immediately. She pulled me to her. "What's wrong?"

"I... I don't like that." I swallowed hard. "You promised..."

She laughed good-naturedly. "I haven't forgotten. You don't have to keep reminding me."

"I'm sorry. I'm a little sensitive ... in that area."

"You certainly are sensitive, I've noticed that." It seemed like she wanted to brush me off, but then her tone became concerned. "Does it hurt you?"

Now I had to answer. "Actually ... no, not really. I ... I don't really quite know."

"You don't know?"

I looked at the floor behind her. "No," I declared defiantly.

She stepped back and held me at arm's length. The way my face was burning, it must've been beet red. She laid a finger under my chin and lifted it up. "But I'm not the first woman you've slept with."

"No..."

She looked at me attentively. Obviously, she expected that to get me talking faster than direct questioning.

"I mean, I've been with lots of women ... but not like that." With defiant emphasis I added, "I just can't!" I spun around to face the wall.

"And that's the only reason?"

The wall protected me, at least, from her direct gaze. Nonetheless, I had the feeling that her eyes were boring into my back. "What else? Isn't that enough?"

"You've never been with a man...?"

I didn't let her finish. "No, I haven't!" I spun back around to face her. "Should I be ashamed of that?"

She still watched me vigilantly. "No, of course not! What were you thinking? But I also meant not against your..." She broke off.

"Against my...? Oh -" I understood. "No, I haven't been raped."  She sighed, relieved. Now I was really furious. How could she be so concerned all of a sudden? "And until this evening, no one had tried, either," I hissed angrily.

She turned around and took a deep breath. Then she looked at me again. Not a muscle moved in her impenetrable face. "Then everything's fine," she said.

I thundered inside. She thought everything was fine now?

She sighed. "Earlier that was..." she paused to consider, "... a misunderstanding." As if that had settled everything, she sauntered back over to me, smiling. Attempted rape a misunderstanding? She couldn't think I was that stupid. She didn't, either. Attentively, she'd followed the emotions playing across my face. She sighed again. This time, she sounded resigned. "Yes, I know what you're thinking."  Explaining, she continued, "But most women want it that way. That's why they choose me." She looked sadly at me. "You obviously didn't know. And I thought..." She let out a bitter laugh. "Like I said: a misunderstanding."

By this time, I was more than confused. "What - didn't know?"  Somewhere in this chaos, there had to be some key I could find to untangle this mess!

She turned to face me fully and stood with one hand on her hip. "I'm a whore, sweetheart!" I was shocked. That was definitely one of the effects she was going for. But the other - that I should feel repulsed - she didn't get.

She stood a few steps away from me and looked out the window at a neon sign as it blinked on and off. She spoke into the empty darkness, "You can go quietly now. I won't hold you back." Her back was straight as a board.

I took a step toward my clothes. But then I stopped. I didn't want to leave; that was perfectly clear to me. But what else did I want here? She was a hooker; she had expected me to pay for a "service" I had no idea I was getting. She conformed to my wishes when she saw that I wanted something different - as any good service is performed to suit the wishes of the client. The client?! I suddenly saw myself in a very unfamiliar light.

She turned around. She glared coldly at me. "Should I leave?" Her voice was icy.

I suddenly became aware of my nakedness. Embarrassed, I grabbed my shirt and threw it on. "No, that would be ludicrous."

She shrugged. "Most women want to be left alone afterwards. It's all the same to me." This icy voice somehow had a heart-softening quality. A contradiction in itself, but it seemed that way to me.

I buttoned my shirt and observed her. She had her arms crossed and stood there, legs apart, an unconquerable fortress. I went toward her. She followed my every move with her eyes, but she didn't stir. I stood in front of her and looked up. My God, she was at least 6'2"! "I don't want to be alone, and I don't want to go." I watched her, unshaken.

Mockingly, she screwed up her mouth and looked at me. "Ah - the lady has developed a taste for it!" She laughed. It sounded rather lachrymose. She bent down a bit. "Until just now you didn't know, and you were irritated. Now you know and already -" she snapped her fingers - "it turns you on, right? Until now it was just a somewhat exotic adventure. Something outside of the ordinary, am I right? But now - what an opportunity! What's it like to sleep with a woman who does it for money? You'd like to know, right? Why shouldn't you try it, now that we're already here?" She turned away from me and unbuttoned her cuffs. Over her shoulder, she added, "I hope you have your checkbook with you. I'm quite expensive."

With one jerk, she took off her shirt and tossed it on a chair. I saw her taut back and heard the scratching of her zipper. With a quick shake, she kicked off her boots, and her pants flew after her shirt. Now she was naked. With a crisp movement, she turned around and raised her arms for a moment. "There you are; I'm at your disposal."

Finally, I had the opportunity to look at her again and to establish once more what I had noticed at first glance: she was unbelievably beautiful. I moved toward her and touched her. Her skin radiated the cold of a marble statue. "No." I shook my head. "No, I won't do it. I won't treat you like a whore just so you can get rid of me more easily." I backed up.

"But sweetheart." She raised her eyebrows, as if to express her bemusement that I obviously didn't know the rules. "You're paying me. And I am a whore. Come -" she had put on a professional smile and came toward me. She reached behind my earlobe and stroked the sensitive spot under my earlobe with her thumb. I shut my eyes. "That's better," she cooed. I wanted to forget it. I wanted to give in to the sensation of her stroking hand. But I couldn't. I opened my eyes. She was still smiling professionally. "What would you like? You can tell me, even if it's unusual. I'll fulfill all of your wishes. You needn't have any inhibitions." She played it out like the opening credits to a movie. Suddenly, she smiled knowingly. She stopped stroking behind my ear and ran her hands down along my body until they rested on my buttocks. Then she knelt down. Only now did I realize what she had in mind. I'd been too busy with her show and my sensations. I pushed her head away.

"Stop it!"

She wiped the smile from her face, stood with an indifferent expression, and looked at me coldly. "Whatever. It's your money. If you'd rather, you can abuse me for it, too."

I'd never before been in such an intimate situation with a woman who could switch herself off like that. She made me nervous. I wanted to know what she really felt. It enraged me how she took control of me in this way. And I'd never been able to conceal my anger. I blazed at her.

Promptly, she turned her smile back on and tried to pacify me. "But there must be certain things that you've never dared to ask from a woman." She laid her hand behind my ear once again. It would've been a wonderfully tender gesture if she hadn't done it so mechanically. Nevertheless, I enjoyed the moment of quiet. She bent down and kissed me gently on the lips. I wanted to believe for a minute, to imagine that she saw in me the woman, the beloved - not just the customer, the client.

While she kissed me carefully - yes, that was the right word: carefully! She forgot nothing important! - her right hand ran down my body. Her left slid under my shirt and played with my nipple until it was hard. It was such an automatic routine, it almost made me sick. She must've done exactly this at least a thousand times before!

I wanted to push her away, but my hands landed right on her breasts. They were wonderfully soft. The velvet skin arched itself against my fingers. I began to stroke them. Instantly, she began to moan and pulled herself toward me. At first I was surprised, but then it occurred to me what she was doing. Regretting that I had to give up the velvety softness of her breasts, I pushed her away. She looked at me with clear eyes. No trace of arousal.

"Didn't you like it?" she asked, professionally interested. I tried to hold her eyes, but she avoided me. She looked over my shoulder. "I'm sorry. I need some time to adjust myself to you. Most of my customers' demands aren't so ... eccentric."

I couldn't help but smile. Her helplessness did more for me than the self assurance she'd displayed up until now. I looked at her with loving affection. "You're beautiful."

Something flickered in her eyes, then she closed her face again. She asked coolly, "So why don't you want me then? You're paying for it. The others... Tell me what I should do. Or if I shouldn't do anything..." She opened her hand in a gesture of helplessness.

An idea crept into my head. Under no circumstances did I wish to let myself fall into her game. But if she'd listen to me... She kept watching me, waiting coolly.

"Lie down," I ordered, with as much authority as I could muster. Astonishment flashed briefly across her face and disappeared again immediately. She spun around and took a step. Then she stood still.

"Where?" she asked flatly into the air. Her stiff back became even straighter.

"On the bed," I decided.

She set herself in motion. She strode gracefully to the bed. When she'd laid herself down, she stretched out her arms toward me. "Come," she said. She'd obviously decided to dispense with the professional expression. She looked honestly and deliberately indifferent.

I crossed the room and stood next to the bed. "Not like that," I contradicted. "Roll over." She hesitated. I waited. Then she turned herself over onto her stomach slowly, with an odd sidelong glance at me. I admired the soft, curving line of her back. She was really a beautiful woman. What could have caused her to...? Well, that was a pointless thought. She'd have her reasons. My fingers tingled with the desire to touch her, but I only traced the outline of her body in the air. I bent down and kissed her between the shoulder blades. She jumped. "Don't you dare moan," I warned. "We already had the show."

"The others like it now and then," she countered, shrugging, with her cool, indifferent voice.

"But I don't. So let it be."

I couldn't see her face, but I could've sworn she was smiling. "As I said before, you're somewhat ... eccentric."

I kissed her again between the shoulder blades and noticed how she tensed up. She was trying to suppress the twitching. I smiled. That wasn't such a bad start. I began to cover her whole body with kisses. Slowly and tenderly, I wandered from her neck to her shoulders, then to her arms and back to her shoulder blades. My mouth glided along her ribcage and dawdled awhile in the hollow above her bottom. Although I took full advantage of this activity, I tried to observe her at the same time. At first, her hands lay next to her head. She seemed peaceful and relaxed. After the first kisses, she got goose bumps. She began to dig her hands into the pillow. Her knuckles became even tighter and whiter. As I came to her lower back, fine drops of sweat beaded up from her skin and shimmered, glistening like a fine rain. She breathed heavily, but buried her head in the pillow.

Again, my fingers traced very lightly the path from her neck to her ass. She jumped at many places this time. Her breath became heavier. She couldn't get enough air through the pillow anymore; she lifted her head and turned it to the side. Gasping, she sucked in air.

Although I believed her reactions were real, a little devil suddenly appeared on my shoulder. Perhaps the particular dynamics of this game I'd never played before had taken hold of my brain and knocked out my normally attentive control mechanisms. In any case, I didn't think any more about it. Against my better judgement, I reprimanded her: "Don't act for me - I warned you!" It was only supposed to be a joke. I was firmly convinced she'd notice that, but she stiffened immediately. She was still gasping. After a few gulps of air, she began to tremble. Her hands pushed slowly under her head. "Please don't," she whispered flatly. Her voice was harsh with fear.

What was wrong? I stroked her back soothingly. She drew back as if struck by a whip and pressed her hands more tightly against her head. "No," she whispered hoarsely, almost inaudibly. "Please don't hit me," she whimpered softly, to herself.

For a moment, I was dumbstruck. This big, strong woman I'd been so afraid of! Then I overcame the shock. I grabbed her shoulder. She cried out in fear. I shook her violently. "Never - do you hear me? Never! I would never hit you! Look at me, please." She lowered her hands and laid her head to the side. Her eyes drooped. She was coming out of a nightmare. As soon as she recognized me, she turned her head away.

"Please go now." She spoke to the wall. "You have no obligation to me whatsoever." She paused. "Of course, you don't have to pay." Her tone was bitter. "And of course I can't stop you from talking about this."  She took a deep breath.