"Hello?" the charming, feminine voice on the other end of the phone asked.
"Uh, hi," Jennifer said, trying to fight the shakiness in her already timid voice, "I'm calling about the ad in the paper."
"Oh, good. I was beginning to think no one was going to call," the voice said, adding a quiet laugh at the end of her sentence. "So, what's your name?"
"Jennifer."
"Okay, Jennifer, when would you like to get together?"
God, what am I doing
, Jennifer thought. "Oh, whatever's best for you."
"How does tonight sound?"
Jennifer sat in silence, shocked at herself for calling this woman. "Uh, you know what, maybe this wasn't such a good idea. I probably shouldn't have called you."
"Wait --", the woman said, "Hold on. It's okay, Jennifer. I understand. You're not the first woman who's felt a little awkward for calling someone like me. First, let's get a little better acquainted with each other. My name's Destiny."
Jennifer still sat by the phone, her heart pounding. She couldn't think of a word to say.
"You still there?" Destiny asked.
Jennifer immediately came back to Earth. "Yeah," she said, starting to laugh. "Oh, God, I'm sorry. I'm just really nervous, you know. I mean, I wasn't expecting to find myself calling a hooker on a Saturday night."
"Oh, you don't have to be embarrassed or anything. You're a woman who simply has sexual cravings. And I'd like to help you. If you do feel uncomfortable, it's okay to hang up."
In a city like Tuscaloosa, where the gay and lesbian community was shunned, finding a sexual partner was like finding a million dollars on the street -- it simply didn't happen. Jennifer hadn't gotten laid in almost a year. Any doubts she may have had were now gone. She was convinced: Destiny was the one for her. Hey, she sounded like a reasonably attractive woman who just happened to be a lesbian. Not some evil, man-hating dyke like she envisioned. "No, I
want
to do this. And I've got plenty of money, too. So don't worry about that."
"Oh, we'll talk about that later," Destiny said. "First things first, uh, what time shall I come over?"
It was already seven-thirty. Jennifer replied, "Hmmm, how 'bout nine?"
"Nine's good. So what's the address?"
"3716 4th Avenue. It's pretty easy to find."
"All right, Jennifer, I'll be over at nine, and we'll have a good time, okay?"
"Uh, wait, Destiny, just so I'll know, um, what do you look like?" Jennifer asked.
"Well, well, Jennifer, I thought you sounded like a woman who likes surprises, but I guess not. I'm not going to spoil it for you, but I will tell you this: I think you'll be satisfied."
Jennifer laughed. "Okay, I think. A surprise will be good. I'll see ya, Destiny."
"Bye-bye," Destiny said and hung up.
Jennifer hung up and sat on her bed, wearing a mischievous grin. A grin that said "Aw, yeah, time to get some." She couldn't believe she had done such a thing. A hooker! A real hooker, too, from the sound of her voice. Jennifer imagined what Destiny looked like. She was hoping for a Pamela Anderson-type blonde with large breasts, but she couldn't think of any woman in Tuscaloosa that could fit that description. If there was such a woman, she wouldn't be a lesbian like Jennifer, that's for sure. And it was pretty safe to say that Destiny wasn't going to be some ugly broad sporting a spiked haircut. At least she hoped not. Jennifer decided her best bet would be to just wait until nine when she would arrive. Until then, Jennifer had to prepare for her date with Destiny.
_______________
Oh, shit. She's here
, Jennifer thought as the doorbell rang. The hour and a half since the phone call with Destiny went by faster than she had expected. Jennifer took one last look at herself in the mirror. The black blouse and khaki skirt looked perfect. Every short dark hair on her head was in place. Time to meet Destiny.
The doorbell rang again. "I'm coming," Jennifer shouted. She raced to the door and quickly opened it.
"Hi. Are you Jennifer?" the woman asked.
"That's me," she replied.
Wow
, Jennifer thought.
This woman is amazing
. Destiny was the epitome of Jennifer's expectations. She looked like she had just walked out of some male teenager's late-night fantasy. She was wearing a leather jacket over what looked like a white halter top, a pair of tight blue jeans that seemed to fir her ass like a glove, and a pair of leather boots. Destiny also had nice, shoulder-length, snow-white hair, with eyes that sparkled and lips that begged to be kissed.
I'm gonna eat this woman alive
, Jennifer thought. "Come on in, Destiny."
"Thanks," Destiny said as she entered Jennifer's home. She looked around and was very impressed. "Wow. Nice place."
Jennifer managed a modest "thank you." Although she was flattered by the compliment, she didn't want Destiny to know that she had spent a lot of time cleaning up the place. Since sex for her had become somewhat of an illusion, Jennifer had a strong desire for this night to be very special.
"Do you want something to drink?" Jennifer asked.
"Yes. What do you have?"
"I got some wine. Chardonnay."
"Great."
Destiny sat down on the navy-blue sofa in Jennifer's living room. The music from the stereo caught her attention. The soulful voice of Al Green pumping out of the speakers added a certain sensuousness to the atmosphere. "You a big Al Green fan?" Destiny asked Jennifer, who was still in the kitchen making the drinks.
"Oh, yes," Jennifer replied, returning with two wine glasses, handing one to Destiny. "I'm a big R&B fan in general. Especially the old stuff. I could live forever on Motown."
Jennifer sat down next to Destiny on the sofa. She watched as Destiny slowly sipped her drink. God, she was hot. Destiny was beautiful, but she didn't have the sleazy hooker look Jennifer had expected. She
did
fit the mold of a strong-willed woman with determination in doing what she wanted. This aura of confidence was really exciting Jennifer. She couldn't take her eyes off this woman. "Could I tell you something?" she asked.
"Go ahead," Destiny said.
"You're really attractive. I mean really. You are. Let me tell you, I was so scared you were gonna be some type of freak or, or -- oh, God, what's the word I'm looking for--"
"Dyke," Destiny suggested.
"Exactly." The two of them erupted in laughter.
"Well thanks a lot. Yeah, you know, most of my clients are caught off-guard when they first meet me. Granted, I don't fit the mold of a classic lesbian, but then again, I don't fit the mold of your everyday street worker either."
"How long have you been doing this?"
"Right now, I'm twenty-eight years old and I've been doing this for almost three years. I have a list of about five or six steady clients. I work on more of a personal basis. I only put an ad in the paper when business is slow."