Authors: Madeline Moore
‘Gives me a new appreciation of size queens,’ muttered Donna.
Sarah nodded.
The young man, noticing that his aggressor was busy showing off his manhood, tried to crawl out of the spotlight.
‘He’s getting away!’ someone in the crowd piped up.
The bald man spun to see his prey crawling on all fours towards the back of the stage. With a roar, the big man crossed the stage and grabbed his victim by the hips. He hauled the pliable young man up, so that his toes and fingertips were all that touched the ground.
‘He won’t,’ Donna muttered again.
Holding his partner by one hand, the big man used his free hand to guide the tip of his fat shaft between the other man’s ass cheeks. With a roar, he thrust himself fully into his victim’s bum.
‘Oh. My. God.’ Donna’s eyes were as wide as saucers. ‘He really did it.’
The crowd roared, the aggressor howled, the young man shrieked, and the sudden sound of sirens pierced the din.
‘Ho, ho, ho,’ yelled the big man. He waved to the crowd with one hand, using the other to move the young man back and forth on his cock, as if he were masturbating and the man impaled on his pole were nothing more than an extension of his own hand. ‘Merry Christmas!’
The stage went black.
17
DONNA DROVE LIKE
a lunatic. They had managed to grab their coats and boots and make good their escape, but neither had taken the time to put them on. Both girls’ teeth were chattering by the time they’d leapt into the car and taken off, the car wheezing its displeasure at being driven cold.
‘Did you fucking see that?’ Donna was incapable of more than the one sentence, repeated at frequent intervals. She didn’t take her eyes from the tiny spot in the middle of the icy windshield that was her only view of the road.
‘I fucking saw it, but I still don’t fucking believe it,’ said Sarah. She glanced over her shoulder to see if they were being followed. The rear windshield, like the front, was iced over. ‘Were those real sirens?’
‘I don’t know. I thought so but I didn’t see any cops. Fuck. I hope the club doesn’t get closed.’
‘A live sex show in St Paul,’ marvelled Sarah. ‘What next?’
Donna pulled the car over on a deserted downtown street. I have to warm this thing up,’ she said. She exchanged her slippers for her boots and reached into the back seat for her coat and a windshield scraper. ‘Be right back.’
Sarah sat in the car and watched as her sister scraped the windshield clear of ice. The heat was up full but set to defrost. Her feet, in their sodden slippers, tingled with cold. She removed her slippers and donned her boots and coat, shivering on the outside, boiling on the inside. She wanted sex. Hot, sordid sex. Her thoughts flew to John, then reluctantly past him to David, and then to Christopher. Christopher would do her like that, she imagined, but only if she told him to.
‘That’s better,’ said Donna as she climbed back into the car. ‘At least I can see the road now.’
‘Do you really think the club will get shut down?’ Sarah watched the road with Donna. Dawn was breaking. One more day, one more night, and she’d be back where she belonged.
‘I hope not. Because if it’s not, that’s where I’ll be every Christmas night till I die.’
‘Thanks for taking me there. I never would’ve thought …’
‘That gay clubs could be such a turn-on?’
‘Yeah,’ confessed Sarah.
‘You should have a look at their porn. It’s fabulous.’
‘I guess I just imagined that guys who are into guys wouldn’t do much for me. You know, that there’d be no place for me in the picture.’
‘That’s Asperger’s for you. Concrete, literal thinking.’
‘I don’t know.’ Sarah didn’t want to talk about autism. She wanted to talk about what they’d just seen. She wanted to keep the camaraderie she’d shared with her sister. They hadn’t been joined together in secrecy since … since she could remember.
‘I wish you’d think about it,’ said Donna. ‘It answers a lot of questions I’ve had, about how I am, how you are, even how Mom and Dad are. Asperger’s syndrome.’
‘OK, I will,’ said Sarah. ‘But I don’t really see what difference it makes now.’ She shrugged. I am who and what I am, and so are you, and so are Mom and Dad.’
‘It just explains –’
‘But I don’t need an explanation,’ said Sarah. Exasperation was creeping into her voice. Damn. She affected a tone of insouciance. ‘I don’t really care.’
‘Do you love David?’
‘I dunno.’
‘See, here you are practically engaged to someone and you don’t even know if you love him. Doesn’t that tell you something?’
‘I suppose it tells me he’s probably not the one for me.’
‘What about your other relationships? Other men? Friends? Even family? Do you love anyone? Because it’s hard for A.S.
people
to really experience love. Either they behave inappropriately or they’re just … detached.’
‘Hmm.’ This interested Sarah. The beginnings of an idea slithered around the fog in her brain. ‘I’ll consider it, Donna. I promise.’
‘Thanks.’ Donna pulled into their driveway. ‘Thanks for coming with me, Sarah. I liked hanging out with you. I wish we’d done more of it when we lived together.’
‘Me too,’ said Sarah. She met her sister’s eyes. They were, she realised, the exact same shade of blue as her own. As if on cue, both sisters’ eyes welled up.
‘What the fuck,’ said Donna.
‘Yeah, what the fuck,’ said Sarah.
‘Too late now,’ said Donna.
‘Is it?’ Sarah grinned. ‘Don’t be so sure.’
The next day, when Sarah’s flight left St Paul, it left with both Meadows sisters on board. Sarah had made a few calls on Boxing Day, one to her landlady to arrange the rental of the room across the hall from her, which had been empty since her hip-hop neighbour had been evicted. The other had been to the airline; she’d been able to wangle another seat on the plane by booking first class. She’d upgraded her own seat as well.
Only when she’d accomplished all that did she sit down with her family and announce her plan. She was taking Donna with her to Toledo. The plan had met with more resistance than she’d anticipated, from her parents of course. Her sister had been so excited she’d actually screamed, as if she’d picked the right briefcase on a game show.
‘What about your studies? Donna’s a handful, honey,’ said Mrs Meadows.
‘It’ll be fine,’ replied Sarah.
‘Yeah, Mom,’ said Donna, rolling her eyes. What do you think I’m gonna do? Seduce her into a life of crime?’
‘We can’t afford to pay for her room and board,’ said Mr Meadows. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Yeah, but I’m making money, like I told you. This catering gig is a good one,’ said Sarah.
‘Maybe I could work for them too,’ piped Donna.
‘No.’ Sarah had anticipated this. ‘You’re not old enough to serve alcohol and, anyway, they have no openings. But until you get a job I can manage both our living costs. Really. And just think, Mom and Dad, the two of you will be kid free, for the first time in decades. Won’t that be good?’
Mr and Mrs Meadows exchanged pleased glances. Yes,’ they’d replied in unison.
The flight was a short one but Donna was taking full advantage of the free booze. Was that her second drink or her third? The kid was damn lucky she never got carded, although she probably had fake ID. Donna, Sarah was beginning to understand, knew all the angles.
Sarah closed her eyes and willed herself to relax. Here she was, finally heading back to Toledo, and she’d arranged to have her badass little sister in tow. Christ. She was now covering the costs of not one but two other people.
She really needed to get back to work.
18
‘CLASSIQUE, HOW CAN
I help you?’
‘Veronica?’
‘Yes? Sarah! Welcome back!’ Veronica’s voice on the phone was delightfully warm.
‘Thanks. I wanted to let you know I’ve decided to stay on with the agency after I graduate. I’d like to work full-time.’ Somehow, saying it out loud made it breathtakingly real.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. Will you have me?’
‘Of course! You’re becoming one of our most popular escorts. In fact –’
Sarah rushed to say all of it, before she lost her nerve. ‘I like the fetish stuff, Veronica. Of course I’ll date whoever you like but the normal guys … it’s just not as much fun with them as with the kinky ones.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Yes. I mean, so far. That is, I don’t know if I’d be much good as a … a dominant, but I like to play submissive. Anal is good, too. Anything offbeat but not … not too bizarre. Anyway, when those sorts of things come up I hope you’ll think of me.’
‘Noted. I’m glad you called, Sarah. One of my girls cancelled on me this morning and I’m having a devil of a time filling her spot. Interested?’
‘Absolutely. Christmas turned out to be way more expensive than I’d anticipated.’
‘Isn’t that always the case? There’s a New Year’s Eve party tonight that’s looking for a lot of girls. It’s a costume ball. You’d be eye candy, more than anything, but it pays double the usual rate, and it could get a little cosy, later. Interested?’
‘Yes.’ Sarah resolutely pushed the thought of her New Year’s Eve dinner date with David out of her mind.
‘Wonderful. There goes my other line. I let Debra have the holidays off so I’m answering my own phones. Listen, I’ll have something suitable sent over to you. A car will pick you up just before nine. Got it?’
‘Yup. Thanks, Veronica.’
‘Bye.’
Sarah snapped her phone shut. She’d have to rush to get everything arranged by tonight, but then she’d been rushing since she’d returned from St Paul. First she’d checked her marks, which had finally been posted online, and had been relieved to find she’d passed the existentialism course with flying colours. Then she’d helped Donna settle into the room across the hall. The next day had been devoted to David.
Sarah had hoped meeting Donna would be enough of a diversion to keep David from groping her but, although the three of them enjoyed a nice dinner out, her sister had excused herself early so the ‘lovebirds’ could spend some time alone. Another bout of barely adequate sex had ensued, resulting in a tepid orgasm for her and a gusher for David.
Damn. Her goal, a break-up with David, was going nowhere, and she had only herself to blame. She was just too much of a professional to deliver anything less than her best in bed. Speaking of which, she’d yet to connect with Christopher, who she considered her antidote to David, and as a result she’d caught herself mooning over her weekend with John more than once. It had to stop.
Sarah crossed the hall and knocked at Donna’s door. A sleepy voice beckoned her into the messy room. Her sister, she’d quickly discovered, displayed many of the characteristics of the house cat. When not amused (which was easily accomplished) and not hungry (for takeout) she slept.
‘Donna, wake up.’
‘Mmph. What time is it?’
‘Time for little sis to do big sis a favour.’
‘OK.’ Donna sat up, rubbing her eyes. ‘I must’ve fallen asleep.’
‘Something’s come up. I have a gig with the catering company tonight. I need you to fill in for me, with David.’
‘Dinner at the Faculty Club? I don’t know … I thought I’d go bar hopping …’ Donna scrunched up her nose, looking even younger than her nineteen years. ‘I don’t have anything to wear.’
‘I’ll lend you something.’ Sarah tried to keep the impatience from her voice. ‘If you like it you can keep it. Everyone needs a little black dress.’
Donna’s face brightened. ‘OK. But won’t David be disappointed?’
‘It can’t be helped. Besides, he seemed to enjoy your company.’
‘Oh, I’m just Sarah’s little sister to that big old historian.’
‘That’ll have to do. Just don’t drink your face off, OK? Be on your best behaviour. It’s important.’
‘I’ll be
très
genteel, Sarah. I promise.’
‘And watch your fuckin’ mouth.’
‘I will, I’ll be good as fuckin’ gold. C’mon, let’s go plunder your fuckin’ closet. Got any fuckin’ heels?’
The afternoon was almost gone by the time Donna made her selection. She twirled in front of the full-length mirror in Sarah’s room. ‘God, I love silk,’ she proclaimed. ‘It breathes so beautifully, don’t you think?’
‘Yeah,’ grumbled Sarah. Her sister had an eye for quality, she’d give her that. Donna had picked through everything Sarah had offered, rejecting all of it, before discovering Sarah’s best little black dress. Naturally, it fitted her perfectly. Sarah was sorry to see it go.
‘Such a pretty neckline,’ cooed Donna. ‘Got any jewellery?’
‘No,’ Sarah replied shortly. ‘You don’t need it with that dress,’ she quickly added.
Donna grinned mischievously at Sarah. ‘I don’t know. Maybe pearls? After all, I have to fit in with the faculty wives, right?’
‘David’s not faculty, not yet. And you are not his wife. But I get your point.’ Reluctantly, Sarah reached for her jewellery box.
There was a knock at the door. It swung open to reveal Nancy, loaded down with plastic-protected clothing. She barked, ‘Where do you want these?’
‘How did you get in without buzzing me?’ Sarah’s voice was shrill with dismay. She hurried to grab the garments but Donna was closer. Donna hung them on a hook on the door and stripped them of their plastic.
‘What kind of uniform is this?’ She held up a blue-checked pinafore.
‘We’re working a costume ball,’ said Sarah. ‘Thanks,’ she said to Nancy, trying to edge her back out the door. ‘See you later.’
Nancy ignored her. She sat down and yanked off her boots. ‘Christ, it’s cold out there. Got anything to drink?’
‘No.’
‘There’s rum,’ said Donna. She opened the cupboard above Sarah’s desk. ‘Oh! And gin and vodka, too. There’s even some vermouth. Would you like a Martini?’
‘That’d be great,’ Nancy replied. She grinned slyly at Sarah. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?’
‘I’m Donna, Sarah’s sister,’ Donna called over her shoulder as she assembled the Martini-makings on Sarah’s desk.
‘I’m Nancy. Your sister and I work for the same agency. Has she told you she’s a ca–’
‘Caterer!’ Sarah was shouting but she didn’t care. ‘We’re caterers.’