Chapter 2
Upon the completion of the sex act, there always has been, for me at least, a sudden onset of intense depression. A feeling of emptiness. Perhaps this is merely the body's way of reacting to the physical and mental exhaustion it has endured; a depletion of energy expended in bringing about the orgasm. Or perhaps this feeling is precipitated by the disappointment you mentally experience knowing that the pleasure is over, and everything following will literally be anticlimactic. But whatever the reason was for this feeling, it has always disturbed me greatly (more so lately than ever before,) and has always detracted from the intense peak-experience of the sexual act and orgasm.
I looked down at Patti. My cock was still inside of her, but it felt like a dead-thing, with no connection to my body at all. Patti had slumped forward and was resting against me. Her breasts were pressed into my chest, and I was conscious of the labored rise and fall of her breathing. My sperm was dripping out of her cunt, oozing onto my balls, and it felt cold and slimy.
It makes you wonder what it was all for? I thought, feeling something very close to revulsion. The whole thing-the whole sexual experience-the great foreplay, the fantastic build-up, the powerfully intense feeling, even that supreme instant of orgasm ... and then nothing. A big hole. An emptiness. Cold scum on your balls.
Diane still had her thigh stretched across my neck. Her cunt hole lay open from the dent made by the combined efforts of my tongue and her fingers, and I could see tiny bubbles of sperm clinging to the ends of her sweaty pubic hairs. She lifted her leg slowly and dropped it back to the bed, moving it as though it were a heavy weight. The mattress vibrated as it absorbed the impact.
"How was it, sir?" Diane asked. Her voice sounded exhausted, and I wondered whether she really had had an orgasm. The girls who worked for me always had an orgasm when I fucked them. Always.
"It was ... good," I said evenly. "Very good." I thought for a moment. "Did you ... come?"
Diane snorted. "Did I ever! The minute I rubbed your hot sperm on my cunt, I went off like a firecracker! I started to come like crazy. You really know how to make love, Mr. Caldwell."
For a brief moment I wondered whether she was telling me the truth, but, not wanting really to know, I dismissed the thought and turned my attention to the new girl, Patti Marshall.
"How was it for you, Patti?" I asked.
Patti made an effort to sit up. Her arms were rubbery and her eyes were glazed. She had a silly, crooked smile on her lips and she giggled obscenely.
"It was fantastic!" she bubbled. "My God! I never thought fucking could be like that."
The perfect answer, I thought. They always knew what to say.
"I told you, you'd like Mr. Caldwell," Diane added, more for my benefit than Patti's.
I ignored Diane for a moment and studied Patti's face. I decided that she was quiet attractive. And from the flush on her cheeks, I decided too that she did experience an orgasm. Whether it was as fantastic as she claimed was another matter.
"Just fantastic," she repeated. "You have a wonderful cock, sir."
I couldn't help but laugh at her last sentence. I could see that Diane had instructed her well. She really did know what to say to me and how to say it. But what an insane thing to say to a man you've just met for the first time in your life-You have a wonderful cock, sir! Could I say that to a woman I'd just met? You have a wonderful cunt, Miss!
I laughed again, more to myself this time, and with very real, almost bitter irony. Of course I could say such a thing. I've said it hundreds of times.
"You were very good, yourself," I said to Patti. Then, tiring of all the bullshit, I tried to sit up. "If I could just have the ... rest of my body back..."
"Oh, yes, sir! I'm sorry."
Patti lifted herself from me and I felt my cock stir again as she pulled her cunt away. My cock stood straight up, still inside of her, then she moved, and it disengaged. It flopped over as though it were broken and it splashed in the puddle of sperm on my belly.
The bed jiggled as Diane clumsily climbed out, and then I began to get up. I was halfway up when Patti leaned over and took my semi-hard organ into her mouth once more. Her mouth was very warm and she began to suck slowly and wetly. The feeling was pleasant.
I leaned forward and touched her on the shoulder.
"That's enough, please, Patti. No more, thank you. I'd like to get up now."
She pulled her mouth away and looked apprehensively at me. It was as though she was afraid she might have displeased me.
I smiled at her to reassure her. "I appreciate your intention, but I'm in a little hurry this morning. Maybe some other time."
Patti smiled back at me, but there was just the faintest flicker of doubt or disbelief in her eyes. She lumbered awkwardly out of the bed and stood silently at the foot of the mattress with her eyes downcast. I could almost sense her thinking that she would have to speak to Diane again to see what it was that she had done wrong. It's not a wise move to make a bad impression on your new boss the first day on a new job.
I climbed out of bed, and Diane and Patti helped me up. I stretched and yawned, and the mirrors around the room began to parody my movements with strange distortions and mocking reflections.
Although I was in a hurry to get to the office now, I still felt a twinge of guilt about what had just happened with Patti. So I decided to take a few moments out to speak to her.
"Are you a model?" I asked.
She looked up with an expression of surprise registering on her face. "Sometimes, sir," she began. "But mostly I'm an actress. Well, I'm trying to be an actress someday..."
They were always one or the other, I thought cynically. Either models or starlets. Beautiful, attractive young women who were willing to sell their bodies to advance their careers. Well, this was the place to do it. Club Xanadu had more than its share of Hollywood producers and directors in its membership. We even had a few politicians too. This was the right place for an ambitious person to make good, solid connections. All a young girl had to do was please me and the doors would begin to open for her.
"Commercials?" I asked. "Have you ever done any commercials?"
"I did one. Back in New York, I mean. It wasn't all that much of a part..."
"I'll see what I can do," I promised. "Dick Free-berg from Titanic Television Productions is a Club Xanadu member. He usually comes to our weekend things. I'll mention your name to him."
Patti's mouth dropped open and I thought she was going to cry for a moment. She started over to touch me or to hug me then, perhaps remembering before, thought better of it, and she stopped.
"Oh, thank you, sir!" she said. Her voice almost sobbed with emotion. "I don't know what to say! Thank you, sir! Thank you so much!"
I smiled back at her and felt awkward and just the slightest bit uncomfortable. I never knew how to react to that kind of gratitude.
"You'll find that Mr. Caldwell really knows how to treat his girls," Diane assured Patti. She put her arms around Patti's naked shoulders and hugged her maternally. "All Xanadu girls do well."
I stared at Diane for a moment and wondered about her. There has always been a tremendous turnover in personnel in the Company (that was one of the advantages of being the owner of a club like Xanadu-there were always plenty of good-looking new cunts around), yet Diane has been with the Company for more than a year now; much longer than any of the other girls. I wonder why she's never moved on to bigger and better things?
I thought for a second, but the answer was obvious: her salary was good and Diane liked her work. Maybe she's even imagined that someday she would marry me. Unlike the other girls, Diane's found a home at Club Xanadu. This was all that she was interested in-sex and money.
"Well," I said, "I've got to get ready." I turned from the two naked women and watched my reflection in all the mirrors. A cold, creepy chill went up my back.
"Just one thing," I said, turning back suddenly. "Where did you learn that ... trick?"
Patti's face flushed. "You mean ... sucking you ... awake?"
I nodded. "Yes."
She was blushing now. "My husband. Ex-husband, I mean. He liked me to do that ... suck his ... thing ... so I used to do it to him ... to wake him up..."
How strange, I thought. It embarrassed her to tell me about it, but she had no compunction about doing it.
"Oh," I said. "I was just curious. Thanks." I turned away from her and wondered why they always have ex-husbands.