This was the second time this week she had approached that green door. On the first, a few nights earlier, fear had broken her resolve and she had fled, full of self loathing at her own cowardice.
Now as she walked down the barely lit, quiet tree lined street a second time, she felt the familiar churning in her stomach and the sudden quickening of her heart.
What if someone saw her turning into the house... but of course not. She lived on the other side of town.
What if she met someone she knew inside... but that was so unlikely in a city of two and a half million people.
But what if she went inside and wanted to flee immediately... but what if she went inside and wanted to stay, and it was this last prospect that took her breath away.
She had learned of this place from her favorite gay friend one evening when they were drinking late. He had told her about his adventures and his encounters on the night before he boarded a plane and flew out of her life forever.
As he told her these stories he never suspected the impact they had on her, first curiosity, then arousal and at last a crushing compulsion to finally confront the demons that accompanied her every waking moment when such urges were hard upon her.
The door was an impressively large, dark oak and with a sliding panel that allowed those within to survey the street and just as importantly to watch the visitors when each finally surrendered and made their own personal journey across the threshold.
By now her heart was pounding beneath her pretty brown dress and as she approached the door it took all the will power she possessed simply to put one front ahead of the other.
She drew a deep breath, knocked far too tentatively, and immediately felt a wave of rising panic and regret.
Nothing.
She stood, transfixed. Confused. Relieved. Here at last was her path back to normality and to the day to day certainty of her regular, mundane, inoffensive little life.
She turned to leave and took a step away.
And then a voice called her back.
The prettiest, friendliest little voice she ever heard called after her, "Hey, don't go."
Oh. My. God.
She breathed hard, and then hard again, closed her eyes. Clenched her teeth. Finally she turned and saw the friendly face of a young woman probably her own age filling the gap the slide in the door had revealed.
"I'm Charlotte. I saw you the other day."
Salimeh looked confused, then Charlotte pointed to the CCTV camera perched inconspicuously to the left of the door.
"It's ok," said Charlotte. "It's scary the first time. Some people come five or six times before they have the courage to knock. Some people never get that far."
She smiled again and Salimeh melted, her panic receded a little but her pulse now raced even harder than before because the door was opening.
Charlotte stood there, a little to the side and welcomed her in with the wave of her hand. She was wearing a white cotton dress with big yellow polka dots that ended just above her knees, and simple pair of heels.
This was not what Salimeh had imagined at all.
She expected fishnets and rubber, instead her personal Charon was a pretty young woman who might have sat beside her in Psychology tutorials attracting the wishful glances of proper young men.
She took one final gulp of her fear, swallowed her denial and stepped across a boundary.
Inside the scene was more like a dinner party before the meal had been served and as the guests casually enjoyed their aperitifs.
Charlotte sat her down on a small sofa near the bench, took care of formalities and explained the house rules. And of course took her money. $150, drinks included.
Salimeh's hands shook a little as she reached into her purse and she felt something akin to love when Charlotte tenderly reached over and placed her owns hands on hers.
She lent in close. "Shhh its ok."
She smiled and Salimeh felt herself relax though her eyes dropped a little from shyness.
"Would you like a band?"
Salimeh looked at her in surprise and Charlotte read her confusion.
"Blue is straight, Red is bi, and rainbow is gay, obviously."
"What is the green one for?" asked Salimeh finding her voice although it was little more than a whisper.
Charlotte smiled as she patted her hand. "Maybe next time. Green is anything goes."
Salimeh 's expression must have betrayed her anxiety. "Oh the panic in your eyes!" Charlotte laughed and a few heads turned in their direction. Then without even a hint of warning she lent in and kissed her on the lips. Not passionately, more like a friendly encouragement"
To Salimeh though her lips were a revelation. Soft in a way a man's would never be and she tasted so lovely. As Charlotte looked into her eyes Salimeh could only stare back, mute.
Finally and without further comment, Charlotte handed her a red band and Salimeh's eyes fell again in self consciousness.
Again in a whisper Charlotte asked her, "Tell me?"
Salimeh understood the intent of her question.
Tell me why you are here. Tell me what you think about when your room is dark and you're all alone. Tell me what you see when you touch yourself.
"I... I like men... I'd like to watch, maybe two men..." she stammered before going silent.
Charlotte patted her leg and again Salimeh was grateful for her consolation.
Then her host seemed to arrive at a decision after surveying the room.
"She stood up and put out her hand for Salimeh to take. "You don't seem like a small talk kind of gal," she said and Salimeh shook her head in agreement.
"Come with me," and Charlotte laughed, and she lead her up the stairs and through another door to a change room like the kind you might find in a sauna.
She handed Salimeh a white towel.
"Here's what you do. Put your clothes in a locker," and she handed her a key. "Have a shower, wrap a fresh towel around your waist and go through that door," she said pointing to the left.
"Don't worry, when you go through that door you still make all your own choices and you are still in control (and then a wicked grin) ...or not, if that's what you want."
Charlotte spun her around, smacked her playfully on the ass and pushed her towards the shower.
When Salimeh looked back, Charlotte was gone.
In the shower she was alone with her thoughts which were scrambled by lust and indecision.
At last, she stood in front of her locker wearing only a towel around her waist for modesty, and then with some hidden vestige of resolve she opened the door and passed over.
The whole second floor was a dimly lit maze of smaller rooms, and corners. The scent of sweat and eroticism was overpowering and hypnotic, and its gravity drew her in.
As her eyes adjusted to the light she saw that there were people in the hallways, men, women, couples slowly meandering along the dark corridors, sometimes pausing to look in the open doors, sometimes bumping ever so gently up again one an another. A glance would be exchanged, maybe a smile, or perhaps a hand might reach out to a breast, or down below.
Then she saw a young man maybe a little younger than her standing beside a door. His towel was discarded. He was stroking himself. She noticed immediately that he ignored the women as they passed but gave the men a coquettish little smile.
The vision put Salimeh into a hot funk, she felt wanton, urgent.
Still, he was too little young for her, not yet ripe enough. Her tastes lay elsewhere.
She took a step forward. Her first one and it was all she needed.
Now she felt an over powering sense of sensuality and belonging. Here was the world she had always craved but never dared to hope for, and here were the people who shared her carnalities.
Charlotte had told her that respect was the most important quality of the house and that as long as she avoided any extended eye contact with the other guests no one would approach her. She fixed her stare ahead and started down the hall way.
She could here sounds emanating from behind closed doors, soft little moans and gasps.
Sometimes nothing more than a grunt or a giggle.
All of it added to the powerful obscenely luscious ambience.
She passed an open door and was surprised and a little disappointed to find it empty. There room was small and empty save for a double bed covered in a black vinyl mattress, and a dispenser on the wall with condoms and lubricant.
The affect was jarring. There was no denying her intent anymore.
