North Shore

"What fantasy exactly? A fantasy of the two of you with another woman?"

"Yes."

"Maybe it's a fantasy of just you with another woman?"

"No, well, I mean, that's how it started. But I want Ken there." I found myself pacing in a tiny circle as I cradled the phone.

"Why?"

Good question. Was it for comfort? "I- I- I like him."

"I hope so," she said with a clear smile on the other end. "Is he there for you or there for himself?"

I don't know. "I wanted him there."

"You wanted him to make love to someone else while you watched, or to watch you?" Gui-Feng asked. "People have this fantasy a lot."

"I, um, I want us there. This is important to me, and I share anything that's important with him. Know what I mean?"

She paused. "Ashleigh, why don't you try to meet someone somewhere else? Why pay?"

"We didn't know how."

"You'd figure it out in more time. There are swingers groups, personals online, interested friends. A close friend you can trust."

I don't have any close friends. Not in several years. That's what I almost said. "We wanted to keep it non-personal."

"You wanted sex to be non-personal?"

A smile escaped my lips because that's how I had always felt about our rule. How could sex not be personal?

"Ashleigh, this is your fantasy, not Ken's, right?"

My smile broadened. "I think it's Ken's fantasy now. I mean, don't men want to sleep with as many women as they can? And two women at once is the ultimate, right? He likes your pictures, Gui-Feng," I confessed mischievously.

"Can you tell me about the fantasy? In detail?"

Tell this stranger, despite her beautiful voice, intelligence, and never-ending legs, about my deepest fantasy? No.

"Ashleigh, this is why you called me."

"You sound like my therapist."

"You've gotten therapy about this."

Okay, this was getting personal. I had thought her personal questions would be about whether or not I was ready to go down on her, not this.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I kept having these images, these thoughts of me and another woman. They wouldn't go away."

"Okay."

She seemed to expect more. "So, I called a hotline."

"Ashleigh! Everyone has fantasies. Nothing's strange about that. I had a dream last night about listening to a Yanni concert, but that doesn't mean I'm going to go buy his box set. Why did you need a hotline just because of a dream?"

"Gui-Feng, they won't go away. It's been a year and a half. Every day I have some thought of me with someone else. Me with someone who isn't my husband. That's not good."

"I bet some people who are very happy have a fleeting thought of someone else all the time. Supposedly, that's how men live their entire lives."

"But I didn't want them to be fantasies. I wanted them-" Why had I spent all my time with Chantrelle? I could have just rung up an escort.

"You called a lesbian hotline, didn't you? Not a marital one, sex therapy, or a friend or anything else. That's what you are scared of."

"I'm not scared of being lesbian."

"How did you choose me?" Thank God, she had changed the subject. "Was it important to one of you that I was Asian?"

"We never talked about that. It was... well, if you are making a lot of money, more than you'd make doing lots of other things, you are probably doing it by some sort of choice, not because you are forced into it."

"You don't like what I do."

"I try not to think about it, to be honest. I try to think of you as just a person who will help us out. Your ad seemed to say that's what you did." I didn't want to insult her, but this was the truth.

"Ashleigh, you need to know something about me before you pay a dime more. I am under no obligation to do what you desire. What you are thinking of is a myth about Vegas. You are hiring an escort for a nice evening on the town. That's all. If I want to spend more time with you because I enjoy it, that's our choice and has nothing to do with money. And, I'll tell you the truth. If I won't feel happy about myself in the morning, I'm not going near it. Okay? So it's possible that you will spend $10,000, fly to Vegas, and then go home with your fantasy having never come true. I cannot promise it to you. And this isn't something I'm making up. I have frequently spoiled a customer as much as I possibly could and then taken off because I didn't like the idea of anything more. I can only promise that I will do everything I can to make you and Kenji happy. I enjoy making people happy." She paused. "Sometimes people call me a bitch and hang up here."

"There's no way I ever want to have sex with someone who's repulsed by me. Omigod, I can't believe I just said I want to have sex with you. I'm so sorry."

Gui-Feng laughed. "Ashleigh, tell me about these images of yours." But something seemed to have changed when she spoke now. The therapist was gone and instead she was just someone who was delighted to hear my voice. We even talked about shoes. It had been a while since I had sat and just talked to another woman about whatever was on my mind. Even though I was paying for it, it felt right. I still felt exhausted, though, when I tossed the phone to Kenji and ran out of the house so I couldn't eavesdrop on his turn.

---

The days passed slowly after the phone call with only the normal stuff to do. Every once in a while, an email would pop up from Gui-Feng for some bit of info. Soon she became all that Ken and I talked about. Over breakfast, over dinner, while making love. Ken would put his mouth between my legs and I'd say, "Just like that, Gui-Feng," nervously. On Tuesday night, Ken got me very excited and put two fingers inside me. He pulled them out and I practiced licking the crease in his hand. The final night we decided to practice for the weekend and made love quietly in front of her picture on the computer. I spread my legs open for Ken and looked into her eyes as I took him in me. I was amazed how nervous I felt naked with Ken in front of even her picture.

As we fell asleep later, I apologized to her in my head for my dreams. I knew that these things might not happen and it was up to her. But I then had to tell her that the faceless woman in my head was beginning to look like her all the time now. Ken told me she looked like what he had dreamed all his old girlfriends might grow into. Vroom, vroom, I joked as I rode him. It was maybe the first time he had brought up Gui-Feng first.

---

"My company won't pay for that," I told the desk clerk at one in the morning.

He looked back at his computer. "They already have. Your account is settled through Sunday night. You've got a Piazza Suite overlooking the strip. Canopy-draped king size bed, sunken living room. And, it looks like you have a $500 tab to spend anywhere in the hotel as you wish." He handed me the key and called the porter over, who took my single roll-on bag up and away. "Welcome to the Venetian," the desk clerk finished.

I managed to find the elevators despite being distracted by the weird room change and knowledge of why I was here. I thought Boss Chuck had meant a nice dinner, not a suite. Even on the dinner, he had made sure to put "probably" so I could worry about whether or not he really would pay. As I watched the numbers go by in the elevator, I realized the truth. It wasn't spineless Chuck. It was that sweetie, Ken, trying to make the weekend special. We were up to $11,000 now for three days.

The door of my room was waiting open for me with the porter standing in the hallway. Following his gesture, I entered my room, or, should I say, rooms. A little gold statue of a flying Cupid adorned the marble entrance way. Italian, silk-covered furniture dotted a living room – a living room bigger than our apartment at home. Three steps led up to a bedroom containing a huge bed covered in gold and red tassels. The canopy was tied back and the sheets were folded down. I could just see something shiny on the pillow, which I assumed to be some chocolate – probably flown in from Belgium three hours ago in the shape of my initials. I had to smile as my normal sense of luxury was when the hotel gave me a cookie.

When I looked into the bathroom, my little smile turned into a grin. A whirlpool bath was prepared and waiting, the jets already on a low hum. A small basket of the darkest strawberries I had ever seen sat by the warm water. Even more, there was a small heated dish containing dark molten chocolate waiting for me, me and a strawberry.

I almost kissed the bellboy.

"And here's a package for you, ma'am." It was a small brown box from Amazon.

I reached in my purse to give him a five, but he instantly declined. "Everything is taken care of. You don't need to worry about anything this weekend. Please call. It will be an honor."

I opened my present as he left and found a mystery novel I had been planning on reading for three to four months. Inside was a note.

"I know you've been wanting to read this, so I went ahead and got it for you. But don't stay up too late. You've got work tomorrow."

In an instant I was nude and sinking into the bath. Dipping a strawberry into the chocolate, I could only think that Ken had truly outdone himself today. He didn't usually think of this sort of thing. Or if he did, he didn't know how to get it done. I blew a kiss to my darling husband across the ocean, wishing I was there to deliver it. At least I would deliver it right after this bath. I never opened the book. I just let the water and the chocolate take me away.

As my eyes closed, I could see Gui-Feng smiling opposite me in the bath. I felt her naked legs rub against mine. With my own little gleam in the eye, I guided one of her lovely legs up and her toes into my mouth.

---

Presents kept arriving all day Friday as I got through work and waited for Ken. My breakfast was wheeled in with a bottle of Dom Perignon and a gorgeous lei of the deepest orchids. How had Ken found that in Vegas? I came back from work to a room covered in several dozen roses, each one with a tiny note. "Thinking of us," "Your weekend is here," "Kisses," and more. I had to wonder if Ken had gotten Rosaria to help him think of lots of cutsie messages. Ken was hot and adorable, not cutsie. Around 8:30 I got back from dinner with the clients to find Jacqueline and her adorable French accent waiting to give me a hot stone massage. It was almost 40 minutes later, when her hands were working the muscles in my lower thighs, that she handed me my buzzing cell phone. I put it to my ear to find Ken almost shouting.

"You are the best wife ever!" This managed to wake me up a little. After all, here was the person responsible for the lap of luxury I had fallen into.

"Jacqueline's here right now," I told him.

"I can't believe you did this for me," he continued. "Don't tell me how much it costs, ever. I don't want to know." What was he talking about? "Meet me downstairs in twenty. You won't believe this thing. The LP640!"

"Ken, I can't even stand right now. I'm a puddle."

"Tired from work, huh? I promise you this will wake you up though."

"I will help you downstairs, miss," Jacqueline chimed in. "Your boyfriend sounds very excited, no?"

"Thank you, Jacqueline," I replied.

"Who's Jacqueline?"

"The masseuse."

"Wow, you are splurging, aren't you? Well, I'll see you soon. Eight thousand! A full eight thousand!" Eight thousand? What? Was that the extra budget he had set aside for this? We weren't going to leave Vegas with a dime.

After another ten minutes of Jacqueline's delightful touch, she was wrapping me in a warm towel and helping me stumble in dreamy ecstasy towards some clothes. The poor girl almost carried me down the halls, the whole time plying me with water. When we reached the drive-up to the hotel, the first thing to really wake me up just a bit was a beautiful red Lamborghini waiting just outside the door. The joker inside was so excited by his toy he kept revving the engine just sitting still. I was about to make a comment to Jacqueline about the boy toy when the driver door lifted up into the air and my own husband came bouncing out.

Speaking more in squeaks and grins than words, he pulled me towards the car, plopped me in the passenger seat, and appeared again behind the steering wheel with his hand already on the gearshift. Six speeds? As we pulled back onto the Strip, I asked, "Where'd you get it?"

"The two girls were waiting for me with a sign when I got off the plane. It must have taken them ten minutes to convince me I was the right guy." He grinned again as he buzzed around some common Mercedes. "Thank you so much, Ashleigh. Renting this makes the trip no matter what. But, you know, if you like what happens with Gui-Feng, can I suggest the two models you hired to pick me up as our next participants? I haven't seen a skirt that short in a few years. Well, when not on the UH campus. Or Waikiki."

"I didn't hire anyone."

"What?"

"I didn't hire anyone, and I didn't rent a car for you." Ken just sort of looked at me sideways. "You didn't send champagne and roses and molten chocolate and Jacqueline, did you?" I asked needlessly.

"Who is Jacqueline again?"

Gui-Feng had sent everything.

"So this is where our first $5000 is going," Ken said as he headed off into the desert.

"Looks like it. What kind of car is this?"

"It's the Murcielago. Top speed is supposed to be 211, but those figures depend on so much you just ignore them; 6500 lbs of torque. Can you imagine 8000 rpm with 12 cylinders?" I couldn't. The city lights were getting behind us, and the stars were appearing when Ken continued. "I know you don't like to go too fast, hun. I'll try to keep it under 150." With a look from me, he changed it. "140?"

Between the massage, the anticipation of tomorrow night, and the speed, my mind had floated away from my body. I have memories of being high in the desert mountains, cold air blowing across my naked body, stretched out on the warm hood of the car. Ken held my calves in his hands, sucking on them, my legs so far apart that I was sure the goddess moon was watching me. Soon I was watching her bathe Ken's bare skin in a silver glow as he laid his pants to my side. Covering my body with his, I raised my pelvis until I had taken all of him. My body tingled with each of Ken's thrusts and our own silver moon beams shot from where we were joined, flying upwards to return to the lunar goddess. Whether this truly happened or was my own dream, I am not sure. I'm afraid to ask Ken. I prefer to think this movie was real and not one that had been cut out of my life.

---

A voice mail appeared in the morning from Gui-Feng. It was nice to hear her voice again.

"Hey, Ashleigh. Hope my arrangements haven't been too intrusive. Tell Ken that I will find the two of you this evening. I'm really looking forward to it. I hope you know that. Talk to you soon, and we will see what we can do about those movies of yours. I have this great new pair of shoes I want you to see. Oh, and remember your account with the hotel! Five hundred dollars to spend anywhere. Go to it!"

I listened to the message about ten times, letting her voice caress me. "Those movies of yours." That's what she said. All the images I had had for over a year and a half. The touching, the kissing, the licking, the feelings. Maybe tonight was the night. I was going to kiss her. If she let me, if she liked me, too. Could I actually kiss a girl? If she did like me, she'd want me to do things to her. All over her. All the things I had told her I wanted to do. To put my lips on another woman's body. What had I gotten myself into?

Ken was still sleeping, lying on the bed, quiet. He was going to sleep with this woman, too. I was crazy. What was I doing? What was I thinking? I wasn't ready to kiss another woman. They were just fantasies. Everyone has fantasies. Why had I let them take over my life? I wasn't ready; I wasn't ready. Not yet. Too soon, too fast, too much. My fingernails began to dig into my arm, clawing at my skin. I knew what was happening, but I couldn't stop the panic attack. It had been two years since the last one. I tried to put the phone down but my hand shook so much it went falling off the bureau.

I ran over to Ken before my fears took me, curling up against him, hoping he could take it away, my whole body shaking. Take me from this awful place, Ken. This place where people pretend to be who they aren't. Don't let me screw up what we have. I know I leap and then look; that's why I have you. Are you looking out for me still? Oh, I'm sorry, Gui-Feng. I wanted this, but I can't. It scares me too much. What if I like it? What if this was who I was? I hated it all. I hated how wonderful those images made me feel. I can feel your tongue on my neck. So good. Why did these wonderful images have to come? Why do they have to make me feel like they do? I didn't ask for them. But if they left... Please don't make them go. They are a part of me now. Ken? Help?

Kenji opened his eyes with a sleepy look that lasted only a second. He wrapped me in his arms and the warm blankets and just held me, whispering to me until my attack faded, my mind calmed.

I didn't deserve either of them.

---

The day passed slowly. I tried to eat my strawberries and read my book. Ken would disappear for a bit and then come back to tell me all about manifolds and callipers and double wishbones. I asked him what he wished for, which made him smile. We tried to eat lunch but we largely just sat in front of large plates of food watching each other. There's only so long you can talk about another woman. I took to sticking little notes in places Ken would look with hearts on them and the like. I hadn't done that since college.

We talked as we wandered the hotel's Grand Canal. We talked about years gone past and about Gui-Feng. What would she look like when she met us?

"She'll be in something skin-tight," I told Ken. "Something that shows every bit of her off. Maybe she will carry a briefcase of toys and lubricants."

"Nah, she'll go classy like in her pictures. Some sort of long evening gown with a back that drops all the way to her... rear."

"That's not classy. No one wanders around in stillettos and a ball gown."

"Hey, it's classier than your latex-covered vixen with a sack full of dildos."

"Yes, but in my vision, she's got a red pointy hat on too and says "ho, ho, ho," as she pulls out... uh... some rubber toy thing."

We drove in the car. We lay on the bed. I wish I remembered some of it. Finally, around 5:30, I listened to Gui-Feng's message one more time. "Remember your account with the hotel."

I stumbled out of the room looking for the only thing that could keep me going at a time like this. Shoes.

---

With a little Ferragamo's bag containing my old pair of shoes, I sat on the edge of a fountain to admire my new pumps and watch the people go by: A group of three men with close cut hair, tight shirts, and egos even bigger than their pecs - the kind of guy you only wanted in your bed if he promised not to open his mouth and remind you of how shallow you were acting. Couple after couple, people taking pictures, women pointing to get their husbands to look at this or that, two bored teens, a very attractive Asian woman with short hair and her own delicious slip of a shoe resting at the end of slender feet.

Stopping. Looking at me with a radiant smile that spoke of nothing but joy.

I could feel my eyes slowly growing as recognition built. This was the one we had been waiting for, dreaming of, scared to death to meet. Gui-Feng's joy at finding me grew with my reaction, and I felt she was about to leap into my arms. Somehow, I wouldn't have minded if she did. She didn't carry a whip, a briefcase, or even show much leg. Instead she was in a pair of khaki capris and a nice burgundy top with thin straps on the shoulders. Her eyes twinkled against a burst of gorgeous black hair shaped in a completely modern, professional way. This wasn't an escort. This was my new best friend.