Laura Answers the Ad
She hadn't heard from Vic Stevens in three weeks, couldn't call him either, for it was highly likely that Natalie, his wife would answer the phone. Finally, in near desperation, Laura dialed the number after having worked up a reason to speak with Natalie should she answer.
She did.
"Hey girlie, it's Laura."
"Hi!" Natalie replied. "Just a minute, let me go into the other room."
Laura heard music in the background, probably NPR, but it softened to a muffle as Natalie walked to the other end of the house.
"That's better," Natalie said. "So? How was that party you went to Saturday? Did you have fun?"
"Hmm, fun. I wouldn't say that."
"Why? Didn't you see Val and Joe?"
"Yeah, I did."
"What about that guy? Um, I forget his name, but Val mentioned that you two might hit it off."
"Spenser. Yeah, he was there."
"Well?"
"Um, I went home with him, actually."
"You tramp! That's great!"
"I wouldn't have admitted it, but Val had the effrontery to call him and ask... and he told her, the bastard!"
Both women laughed, and then Natalie asked, "So, was he terrific in bed?"
"Not really." Laura said as she settled down on her loveseat and worried a cuticle while looking out the window at the rain splashing on the cobblestoned street in front of her apartment. "I don't even know why I did it. I should know better by now. He's in a completely different orbit from me."
"Oh, I'm sorry, hon, but it was probably quite a thrill for him, the sophisticated southern woman and all."
"I doubt it. I'm such a dumb ass."
"Don't be so hard on yourself. So it's a one-nighter; it wasn't meant to be. He's lucky he had a shot with you. Besides, I'm glad you're getting back out there, after that bad experience with Lou and all."
That comment pissed Laura off, but she hid it well, saying, "You're sweet," then placed a finger in her mouth and feigned vomiting.
"Hey, Laura, why don't you come on over? Vic could put some burgers on the grill, and we can rent a two handkerchief movie or something."
The thought of being in the same room with Vic made her shiver with excitement. He was an excellent lover, and the sooner she got it on with him again the better. But being in the same house with him and Natalie would be a major risk and was sure to piss Vic off.
And so, Laura gave a heavy sigh, and said, "Thanks, Natalie. But I don't know. I'm not feeling very sociable. I'd probably just bum you and Vic out."
"No! You should come by. It's better than moping around and being sad, right?"
"I won't be sad."
"But you'll mope, I know you. Listen, forget that Spenser creep. You're way out of his league, anyway."
"Mmmm, probably. Thanks for saying so at any rate. You're a good friend, Nat. Anyway, I should do some laundry. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"
"All right, sweetie," and sounding too happy that Laura was not coming over, added, "Happy laundering."
After Laura hung up, she considered her options: I could go to the grocery; this apartment needs a good cleaning; I should try to finish that Nora Roberts novel; maybe I'll rent a movie and order a pizza; my mother probably wonders why I haven't called in so long; maybe a pedicure would cheer me up. The weekend stretched in front of her with its possibilities, but it just made her tired. Maybe I'll lie down for a little while, she thought. I certainly didn't get enough sleep last night.
Her bedroom was inviting. She loved the deep green comforter that she'd found on sale a few months ago, loved her thick goose down pillows, her little bedside table. She pulled the window shades and snuggled underneath the comforter. As she started to relax, she realized how stiff her neck had been. That's what I get for abandoning my comfy bed, she thought.
She lay still for a few moments, but couldn't slow her brain down. A mΓ©lange of sexual episodes rushed past her mind's eye. She pictured the purple dildo and how Marta's dark lips had looked wrapped around it. An electric thread zipped through her pussy, and she unbuttoned her jeans, scootched part way out of them, and rested her hand on her mons. She'd always been able to soothe herself at night by pressing gently on her pubis. It wasn't sexual, really, or maybe it was and she just hadn't known any better at the time.
She wished she had a dildo of her own. She'd always been a strictly clitoral gal when she played with herself, but she couldn't help wondering how a rubber cock would feel in her mouth. Would it taste bitter? Would its dumb stiffness make her gag? What about in her pussy? She once had a lesbian friend who raved about them, said she could come all night with her silicone friend.
Sighing, she pulled her panties to the side and delicately grazed her slit with two fingers. Shivers ran through her abdomen, making her want more contact, but she wasn't going to give herself that satisfaction just yet. She tickled her inner thighs with a feathery touch, imagining Milton's furry goatee against her soft skin, Alex's tongue in her mouth, Marta's hands clamping her ankles and spreading her wide open.
Then Lou was putting those clamps on her nipples, and later how he'd applied the hot wax to them with her blindfolded. Christ he'd had a weird imagination! But he'd known what buttons to push, and Lordy could he fuck! Aloud she admitted to herself, "Ah, but I burned that bridge, probably better off that way . . . but still and all."
With her mind conjuring up both real and imagined events, her fingers wormed their way into her sexual passageways and she got herself off before wearily dropping off to sleep.
* * *
The next few days were subsumed in the usual routines. Laura worked long hours, but by Thursday evening, she started feeling lonely. She phoned Natalie and since Vic was out of town they made plans to meet for dinner at a new Ethiopian restaurant.
Laura arrived early and picked up the new issue of her city's free weekly from the rack inside the restaurant's doorway. The place wasn't very crowded. A lithe hostess swathed in ocean-colored silks flitted toward Laura and led her to a booth. The busboy brought her water with a pale slice of lemon in it.
Flipping through the newspaper, Laura scanned the "Other" column in the Personals section, looking for freakish ads to show Natalie when she arrived. Most of the headlines were bland or illiterate -- "I'm Hi N-R-G, R U?" "Gaze into my Crusty Blue Eyes!" "Dreamer-Savant," "I Love Curvy Ladies," "Fresh Start Together." Her eyes were drawn to the "Ships passing" section, where people left cryptic messages to each other. One ad had a bold header: "Your wildest curiosities satisfied. Intrigued? Cum, meet your new Master. Contact LT2346."
Laura felt her insides prickle. This wasn't placed by some cretin like Lou. This was short and to the point. This person knew what they wanted and assumed the reader who answered would as well. But was it a man or a woman? She reread the advertisement, then carefully ripped it out and put the scrap in her wallet as Natalie approached her booth.
"Sorry I'm late. Is that this week's Nova?" Natalie asked as she slid into the booth.
"Yeah. You want it?"
"No, I'll grab one on the way out. I may have some fish that needs wrapping. Hey, do you want to order a carafe of honey wine?"
Laura enjoyed the meal and talking with Natalie, but she felt as though she were observing herself from across the room. Her thoughts kept circling back to the ad. Midway through the meal, she excused herself to use the restroom and as she sat down on the toilet Laura spied a gleaming patch of liquid in her panties. The prickly feeling in her abdomen intensified.
When she got home, she dug the slip of paper out of her wallet and read it again. She made a pot of coffee, took a shower and still wrapped in the damp towel, came back to the slip of paper that seemed to have her mesmerized. She let the towel fall to the floor, picked up the phone and dialed the Personals number. The automated voicemail system assigned her a code number. Her voice sounded small and nervous as she left her message: "Hi, I saw your ad in the Nova. I, um, wonder... um, how would you satisfy my curiosities? My number is ...."
Laura hung up and sat waiting. She had fallen asleep in the chair and was awakened at 3:30 when the phone rang. "This better be an emergency," she said groggily, thinking it was Lou with one of his vile, obscene drunken calls. She had all but forgotten her earlier call until she heard his voice.
"I'm fully aware of the time, and I'd appreciate your using a more civil tone."
"What? Who is this?" Laura, confused, didn't recognize the voice, and her Caller ID said that the number was unknown.
"You may address me as Master Alex. I am returning the message you left this evening."
"How did you get my number?"
"Ah, either you are still half asleep, or an imbecile. Which is it?" His voice had the huskiest timber to it that she had ever heard outside of certain television commercials. Her loins shouted that she had better meet this man. For his voice told her that this was a real man.
"I ... I ... I'm awake now. Sorry, I haven't been sleeping to well and... well, you're right, I was half asleep. I did call you, didn't I?"
"At 12:30, yes. You saw the ad, right?"
"Yes. It ... I found it intriguing.
"Do you have to be at work in the morning?"
"Yes, I'm afraid I do. People depend on my being there."
"All right, I understand. One has responsibilities, one adheres to them."
"Yes, um ... did I understand you to say you prefer being called Master Alex?"
"That is correct. What do you go by?"
"Laura ... Laura Strand."
"Seven p.m., 35 Front Street. I'm on the third floor. The entrance door will be open. Knock twice and remove your shoes before entering my space. Good night, Laura Strand."
* * *
The next day at work felt surreal to Laura, who found herself looking at the clock repeatedly. Her meetings droned around her as she drew patterns of interlocking vines in her notebook. She wished she could go home for the rest of the day, but if she missed her deadlines, her colleagues would bear the brunt of her irresponsibility.
At 6:15 she shut down her computer and left the office. The evening was brisk, with a steady breeze off the ocean that deepened the chill. She was glad that much of the rush-hour traffic had dissipated by the time she left -- how pissed would Alex be if she'd been caught in traffic on college and been late for the appointment? As it was, she had trouble finding a parking place near the building on Front street. It was 5 minutes of 7:00 when she arrived.
Laura found the entrance ajar and went in, closing the door securely behind her. She climbed the three flights of stairs, marveling at the fact that there was not a squeak from any of the obviously very old steps on the staircase.
She almost forgot to remove her shoes before entering the loft. And that is what Master Alex had for his quarters, a gigantic loft that ran almost free of walls or barriers of any kind.
Laura took two steps inside the loft and suddenly Alex loomed beside her, towering over her five-feet five inches.