St. Pauli Girl

Kevin walked up and down both sides of the very narrow street. His exploration must have taken ten or fifteen minutes. She was sitting behind a small table in the corner sipping champagne when he walked into the dimly-lit and smoky bar. "Well?" She asked with great excitement.

"I've never seen anything quite like it. There must be a hundred prostitutes there. The ones I saw were sitting behind windows smiling and waving at the men."

"So tell me more. What do they do? How much do the charge? How long are they with each guy?"

"I don't have a clue. I suppose the only way to find out would be to go into one of those places and ask."

"Oh no you don't buster." They both laughed at her remark.

"Marcy I can't remember when you've ever being so interested in a subject. What gives?"

"I don't really know. Everything is so open here. The sex shows and now this, a Disneyland for men. I think in the states it's much more hidden, much less accepted. I was just wondering about the women. What they're like? How they feel about what they do? That's all."

Kevin thought she had taken the bait. "You should talk with one of them."

"Oh, I'd love to but I don't see how that's possible," she paused took a sip of champagne and asked, "do you?"

"Marcy, I've come to realize that anything's possible." She couldn't possibly have known that what he was referring to was her posing naked, accompanying him to the sex show and wearing what she was wearing and talking about the life of Hamburg's prostitutes. "Let me see what I can do?"

"Do you really think you could find someone who will talk with me?"

"I really do, but it may take an hour or so. I would have to go into one of the places and talk with one of them and then get her to meet you tomorrow."

"Would you do that for me?"

Oh baby, Kevin thought, you know it. "Take a taxi back to the hotel Marcy. I'll nose around and be back in about an hour. You okay with that?"

She was. They hugged and kissed and she was whisked off in a cab. Kevin knew exactly what he had to do. This time, his time behind the metal barricade was much more deliberate. After twenty minutes he was about to give up when a very pretty brunette sat down behind a window at number 7 Herbertstrasse. He smiled and she smiled back. He pointed to the door and she nodded her head. As he turned the knob he heard a click allowing him to enter.

Without either of them saying a word, he followed her up a narrow staircase. At the top of the landing she opened a door and entered a very small bedroom. She was wearing a white teddy and very high heels. He saw that, For what he had in mind, she was more perfect than he could have ever hoped for. "Do you speak English?" Kevin asked.

"But of course. In Germany we study English for twelve years. Also, it would be difficult to succeed here if one didn't speak your language. Sometimes half of my customers are from England, the U.S., Canada or Australia. By the way, I'm Karin. Tell me what you have in mind."

"How much for an hour?"

"That all depends on what you expect me to do during the hour?"

"Just talk, that's all."

She smiled held out her hand and said, "for just talk the fee is 150 euros for the hour."

As he handed her the bills he said, "I'm Kevin, my wife and I live in Atlanta, a big city in the south in America. This is our first trip here."

"I've heard of Atlanta. The Olympics and Coca-Cola. Right?"

He smiled, gave her a thumbs up and said, "you've got it."

"Kevin, I've heard it said that talk is cheap. Obviously, here it isn't cheap. What's on your mind?"

"Tell me about yourself Karin. I would like to know how old you are. Are you married? Do you have children? How long have you been doing this work?"

"I'm thirty-one. I'm no longer married. I have a son who is six years old. I've been working here for three years." She frowned then said, "Somehow I think that isn't really what you want to know. Am I right?"

"You're both right and wrong. I did want that information but, you're right, I want to know more. May I ask how tall you are, in feet and inches?"

"I'm five-five."

Almost perfect he thought. Marcy's five seven. "And how much do you weigh, in pounds."

"Let's see I weigh 53 kilos that must be about 120 pounds." Almost exactly Marcy's weight he realized.

He studied her. Her legs weren't as long as Marcy's but he doubted that the length of leg would be a problem. Karin's hair style was different but the color was close. Brown eyes, classic high cheek bones. Though not as beautiful as Marcy, she was nonetheless, beautiful by any other standard. She couldn't have been mistaken as Marcy's twin but it wasn't a stretch to see her as Marcy's sister. "When do you end your shift?"

"Kevin, I think you must have the wrong idea. I don't date. If you want to be with me, anyway you want, it has to be here."

"Let me explain," he said, "I think you're very beautiful, as a matter of fact you look very much like my wife, and I'm sure it would be great to spend an intimate hour with you, but that's not what I want to talk about."

"Go on," she said.

"There are a couple of things I want. First, I want you to talk to my wife. She's very intrigued by what happens behind the barricades and in these rooms. Obviously, that would have to take place when you weren't working. That's why I asked you when your shift ended. Second, and more importantly, I want your help. . . I need your help. I have an idea that may be of interest to you and should be worth your time."

"Okay, Kevin, you have my attention. I can take off for a couple of hours tomorrow during the day and meet your wife but I'm scheduled to work here nights through the weekend."

"That's great Karin. How would you like to take a day off?"

"I can't take a day off these people depend on me and I need the money."

"Karin, what I have in mind won't cost you a penny -- or whatever a penny is in Euros or Dutchmarks -- as a matter of fact if everything works out you'll make more than if you worked. Also, I wouldn't expect you to take off without being covered." He paused to see her reaction.

"I'm sorry this is so, how do you say in English, oh yes so vague."

"You're right Karin. Bear with me. I told you that you and my wife, her name is Marcy by the way, look very much alike. She's a few years older than you but she looks younger than her age. Anyway, she's been having a wonderful time here. This afternoon I had her pose for some sexy, professional nude photos."

"Who was the photographer?"

"Gart Miller."

"Small world. I know Gart. He's very good. He does photography for several of the brothels. Every prostitute has a portrait and full length portfolio. I'm sorry to have interrupted you, please go on."

"Well anyway, the night before we saw a sex show and it made her really hot. A few minutes ago when we stopped at the barrier she seemed unusually curious about what was beyond the barricade and the women who work behind it. I can't think of a better way to know about their lives than to experience it directly. Anyway, I thought that if you could meet Marcy tomorrow, say for lunch, talk with her, answer her questions. Then, if the time is right, suggest that she take your place for a day or two, see her reaction."

"Oh, that's impossible." She said shaking her pretty head. "The women who work here must be registered. Even if she were agreeable, and I doubt that she would be, it would take a week to clear her assuming she could get work papers. Now that I think about it, there's no possibility that an American would be allowed to work here, I'm sorry."

Kevin smiled. Nothing Karin had said was a surprise. "Karin, we're only talking about a day or two. If Marcy found the idea interesting then why couldn't she just use your Identification? If there were a big difference in your age or appearance, of course it wouldn't work. Also, you would keep everything she made and I would pay you handsomely for your cooperation. What do you think?"

Karin was interested. To have a day off and be paid for it was appealing. However, the risk was huge. If they were caught she would be barred from ever working again as a registered prostitute. Not only had she made more money than she ever dreamed of, she liked the work. "Kevin, it's risky. Not much would happen to you or your wife but the consequences for me would be great."

"I'm sure you're right Karin. If she were discovered we would stand by the story that we found your ID on the sidewalk and, on a lark, she assumed your identity. The worst anyone could say about you was that you lost your ID. That can't be a crime, can it?"

"Does she speak German?"

"Not a word. But your English is perfect, hardly any trace of an accent. You said lot's of customers speak English so no problem with them. If she were willing, I imagine a few words would be sufficient. Do all of the women have to speak French, Spanish and Italian too?"

"No they don't. You make a good point. We have Turks, Scandinavians, Africans, Russians really men from all over the world. I would say that only 20% are German, some nights even less, and, unlike you, they don't come for conversation." She seemed to be thinking about his proposition. "This might work." She said as she touched her hand to the side of her chin. "Okay, let's say that I can become comfortable with the ID and language problem, what makes you think she'll do it?"

"Karin that's a long, long story. We were married very young. She never dated as an adult or had any sexual experience outside marriage. However, I don't think there's a woman on the planet who loves sex more than my Marcy does. I've been very open with her about my fantasies. Until this trip she just laughed them off or played along when we were making love. In the states nothing would ever happen but here, who knows, I think she just might be game for giving it a try. What do you think?"

Karin thought about his question for a minute before she answered. "It can't hurt to try." Then her mind made up, she became the businesswoman again. "Okay, you give me 200 Euros, that's just for the lunch tomorrow. I'll talk with her and do my best. If it works out, beginning tomorrow night, or the next day, she can take my place for a day or two."

He had thought that he might have to make a proposal to several women before he found one that was interested. But he didn't, he scored with the first one. Maybe this was a good sign. "One more thing Karin. Whatever you do, please don't say that I told you to ask her to take your place. It has to be your idea."

"I understand. Of course I won't. If there's one thing I've learned in three years here it's that discretion is very, very important."

Kevin looked around the tiny room with renewed interest. He saw that the small bed was pushed in the corner because there wouldn't have been room to walk around it. There was an open door that led to a bathroom that didn't seem to be much bigger than the one on the airplane on which they flew across the Atlantic. This room, that had taken on a great significance, could only be described as functional. It's function was a place where prostitutes satisfied their customers.

His observation and thoughts were interrupted by Karin saying, "tell your wife to meet me at noon." She opened a drawer on the night stand took out a pen and pad of paper and wrote down the name and address of a restaurant. She handed him the paper, kissed him on both cheeks and said, "until tomorrow, Kevin."

When he was down on the street, he looked back and saw that Karin had resumed her place behind the window.

Chapter 5

Marcy was having second thoughts as the Mercedes taxi moved slowly through Hamburg's late night traffic. Did I really send my husband to find a German prostitute to tell me about her life? Would he just interview one or would he sample one? Yet, for some reason she knew that she was more than enough for him. There had never been any doubt that he had been ecstatically satisfied every time they made love. She also knew that he wanted, desperately wanted, for her to be wilder in public and with other people.

She didn't completely understand what was happening to her in this port city. She actually liked wearing the clothes that he had selected. When the jacket was off, her bare shoulders, back and the swell of her breasts were visible to all. Two days ago she would have just died if anyone they knew saw her dressed like she was.

And the photographs, what was she thinking? She hadn't been raised like that. But in less than two hours when Gart said, "show me your pussy," she didn't hesitate to reach down and spread herself. She knew that he could see everything. The hooded clitoris that was peeking out because it was swollen, her pee hole, her moist inner lips that guarded the mouth of her vagina. When he moved in for a close up with the hand-held camera he was within a foot of Kevin's exclusive playground.

Back in the room the time seemed to be standing still. She wondered if Kevin was having any success. She also wondered why she was so curious about the women who plied their trade behind the barrier. What kind of women were they? And then, the question that had been haunting her for the last half-hour--and that she refused to face-- was what would it be like to be one of those women? Kevin would absolutely kill her if he knew what she was thinking. She stripped off her clothes, added new lipstick and brushed her hair. A few sprays of perfume in the right places and she was prepared for his return.

Finally, she heard the key in the door. They hugged and kissed as if they had been apart for days or weeks, not just an hour. Marcy asked, "did you get to talk with someone?"

"Yes, I did." Her name is Karin. She was very nice and helpful. I found out that she had been working there for about four years. She's divorced and has a six year old son.

"Is she pretty?"

"She's very pretty but not as pretty as you."

"You know just what to say mister." Playfully, she pulled him down on the bed. "What does she do with the men and how much does she charge?"

"I don't know," Kevin said. "I didn't ask her. You'll have to ask her yourself when you have lunch with her tomorrow." He held up the folded paper with the address of the restaurant written on it.

"Let me have it," she said as she reached for it. Teasing her, he kept it out of her reach for a minute before letting her have the victory of snatching it out of his hand. "Are you coming with me?" She wanted to know.

"No. I think it would be better if just the two of you talked. She might be less inhibited. I'd just be in the way. You can catch a cab to the restaurant and another back to the hotel.

"How will I recognize her?"

"I don't think you'll be able to miss her. She's a couple of inches shorter than you and not quite as pretty. Otherwise, just look for yourself."

Under the crisp sheets they made love for the third time on the hotel bed. They had made love more times in Hamburg in the last two days than they had in Atlanta in the last two weeks. And, on a scale of intensity if Atlanta was a 5, Hamburg was a 10. Kevin was drained and Marcy, like the last two times, was far from finished. Before he drifted off to slumberland he heard her whimper. "Oh, I need more . . . I need more."

Chapter 6

When Kevin awakened there was no sign of room service. No aroma of fresh coffee as there was the day before. Also, there was no sign of Marcy. He saw that it was almost noon. She must have gotten up an hour ago and dressed. Then he saw the note on her pillow.

Good morning my love. You were sleeping like a baby. I didn't have the heart to wake you. I've gone for my lunch with Karin. Should be very interesting. See you later. Love M.

He checked the closet and saw that the white dress and the jacket were missing as were the white pumps. The white garter belt, stockings and thongs were in her drawer so he knew what she was and wasn't wearing. He assumed she would be gone for a couple of hours. Plenty of time, he thought, to take a run around the lake.

Marcy didn't have any idea what to expect. Kevin had said that Karin spoke English but he didn't say how well. Also, she wasn't sure how far she should go with her questions. It was nice enough of Karin to meet with her for lunch. She didn't want to become an interrogator but she certainly was curious.

Karin recognized Marcy immediately. "Hi, you must be Marcy, I'm Karin," she said as she extended her hand. "I reserved a table in the corner where we can talk privately. And, I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of ordering for us."

"That's fine. I'm pleased to meet you too, Karin." She was surprised. She didn't know what to expect but she realized that anyone who saw the two of them together would think that she was the hooker, not Karin. Karin wore black leather pants, a tailored short red leather jacket and sneakers. Her hair was in a pony tail and she wasn't wearing makeup while Marcy's makeup was far heavier than usual.

Their table was in the far corner of the small restaurant. Karin didn't ask but poured each of them a glass of red wine. Marcy realized that she had drunk more wine and champagne while in Hamburg than she had in months at home. Oh well, she thought, when in Rome . . .

Karin broke the ice. "So your husband tells me you are interested in what I do for a living."

"I really am. I think when we walked to the barricade last night and I wasn't allowed to go in and see for myself I just had to know more about it. Does that make any sense?"

"Of course it does cheri. We all want what we can't have and want to go where we're not allowed. If it is forbidden, it is much more interesting and desirable to us than if it is familiar and available, don't you think so?"

"I think you're right. Anyway, it was so nice of you to meet with me. I'm not sure where to start. Kevin told me that you're 31, divorced, you have a son who is 6 years old and you've been doing this sort of work for four years."

"That's mostly right. I'm not divorced my husband died a year ago, a terrible accident."

"I'm so sorry. I didn't know." Marcy apologized.

The awkwardness of the moment ended when the food was brought to the table. Karin had ordered large salads for them. The waitress obviously knew Karin and they spoke briefly in German. Karin explained, "I just live around the corner. When I'm not working I eat one or two meals a day here. Go right ahead and ask me anything you want while we are eating."

As she looked across the table at her luncheon companion, Karin thought Marcy was lovely. She imagined what she must look like with the jacket off. From what she could see she assumed that Marcy's body was near perfect. Karin was long in the torso so her legs were not nearly as long as Marcy's. Also, Karin's boobs had been augmented by saline. It was obvious that Marcy's, though not a D cup like hers, were completely natural. As great as she imagined Marcy's body was it was her face that was captured Karin's attention. Perfect oval shape, perfect big brown eyes, perfect nose mouth, chin and complexion--although she thought Marcy was wearing too much makeup. Somehow it didn't seem fair that one woman could have it all, including a handsome and adventurous husband. She also sensed that Kevin was right. This American woman seemed to be exceptionally sensual.

After Marcy swallowed a fork-full of the delicious salad she said, "You know Karin, I'm interested in . . . Oh, Like how much do you charge? What do you do with your . . . the men? How do you feel about it? Things like that."

"Fair enough," said Karin. "The minimum is usually 150 euros, that's about the same as 100 DM. There's no such thing as a maximum. Every girl tries to get as much as possible for as little as possible. We do about everything a man and woman can do. Men who want to be humiliated or dominated or tied up go to specialists. I can't help you much with that, my dates are more . . . I would say more straight. And, oh yes, you asked how I feel about it. Well, for the most part very good. I don't hate myself for what I do. I enjoy sex and I get paid for it. That's a nice combination. Before we go on tell me something about yourself."