"Baby, you're beautiful and I'm still hot for you," she said. "But what has that to do with the growing de-evaluation of the all-mighty dollar?"
"Jesus… after all those compliments you were handing me, I should be charging you!"
"Ah hah!.. that's exactly what I was hinting at before, you silly. Now hold that thought, David… I'm serious. I have all the necessary contacts if you ever want to try peddling those lovely wares of yours. Do you realize you could earn upwards of three hundred dollars a day, David, just by looking like that? Tell me, darling, doesn't that gnaw at your vitals a little bit?"
David chose to ignore this slimy suggestion, mainly cause the whole idea of a male whore sounded too sick and fantastic to be taken seriously; and he was increasingly revolted to learn that this girl was not only a whore, but a procuress as well, apparently working both sides of the street.
He got up and reached into his pocket. "Look, I've only got twenty dollars on me, and I can't write a check, because I… I… "
She giggled. "Joint account, David? Afraid the little Madonna will suspect?"
"Goddammit, how the hell did you know I was married?"
"Tiny white ring of flesh around your finger, where you slipped off that bothersome wedding-band. But that was just for starters, honey, because I can always tell a married man-I mean, God! They're so sex-starved it's sometimes rather touching. And you probably won't believe this-at least not until you let it sink in-but I've found that young attractive married men make the most utterly marvelous whores! You know the boys I mean-very much like you, David; titty-pure, breastfed commuter-types who got married so young they didn't even know how to play with themselves yet." She laughed delightedly at this. "My goodness, what a flow of passion these fellas have got saved up by the time they hit their late twenties…"
He stared at her, finding her more incredible by the second. "What the hell are you, some kind of white-slaver or something? I mean… what're you recruiting here, whores or Johns?"
"Oh but darling, that's priceless!" she laughed. "You've just summed up the whole stinkin' world in a nut-shell. Whores and Johns, what else is there? I mean, if I hit on someone aging and unappetizing, I charge-and if I meet someone young and delicious, I charge him too, of course, but I also try to point the juicy stud towards a career of his own. You see what I meant about having a public relations background?"
Listening to her, David felt an overwhelming rage and revulsion, thinking how incongruous her cute little lisp sounded when accompanied by the brittle horror of her words. He got up and handed her the twenty. "This is all I can spare now. I'll have to mail you the rest…"
"Oh no, darling, that won't be necessary," she said, taking the bill, "because you'll be back." She rose and followed him to the door.
"Don't count on that, Valerie," he said. "What I do not need in my life right now is a well-dressed little vice-queen like you. If you like living in a cash-and-carry sewer, fine! But don't try to drag me in with you, because at the moment, a life of crime has absolutely nothing to do with what I'm looking for." He tried to remember the fourth name on his computer-list, but felt too infuriated to think clearly.
"Oh David, will you listen to me," she said, standing between him and the door. "My God, if you only realized what a gold-mine this city is!" Suddenly she seized him by the arm and pulled him over to the windows, drawing the curtains. "Look out there, darling… look at that breathtaking view and tell me what you see. To you that looks like Colt Tower over there, doesn't it. Ahh, but honey, to me it's the 'Cock-Of-The-World!' And all those rolling hills are blown-up balls and breasts and buttocks waiting to be sliced and devoured, and positively quaking with gluttony and desire. And David, listen… all that neon hunger out there, all that snarling gulping greed, it's for you, baby! For this… down here… and this and this…!" She flung herself at him, fiendishly groping him between the legs… then socked and pounded her fists on his husky chest, and ran her fingers over his lips and cheekbones and blond, rumpled hair. "You sanctimonious fool, wasting the best flesh of your life! Don't you know if a lad looks like you in San Francisco, he's got it made in this body-sucking decade? Believe me, darling, in this city everything's coming up climaxes, so why not have some common sense? You're at exactly the right age, because they frown on minors and don't want them over thirty, so baby, you're seasoned just right for plucking… and now… is… the… hour!"
David pushed her away from him, gaping at the lunatic gleam in her eyes, wondering what kind of pathological nut he'd wind up with next in his search for fulfillment. "Either you're out of your mind, or… or you're on drugs," he said, heading towards the door again.
"Yes, of course, that helps too, until you've got your start. Drugs, I mean. Hashish or poppers or pot… anything your heart desires, David, as long as we get you launched."
"Goodbye, Valerie. If I think of it I'll send you a get-well card."
But she had swiftly followed him once more, and was now pressing her body persistently against his, gripping him by the shoulders and peering up at his face. "Oh David, you'll come crawling back here with your naughty little tongue hanging out, and I'll be all spread-out and ready for you!"
"No chance, Valerie, not on your terms!"
"Ahh, but the nights will drive you back here, darling, because that's when you'll think about me the most… and remember how exquisitely I tickled your dickie-poo when I jagged you off in the bar… How wet and lovely and nervous you got down there! It was like having the Dee-Tees between your legs, wasn't it, darling? And of course you'll try to recreate all that yourself, wetting that big hand and sliding it up and down your sweet hunk all by yourself… but it won't work, baby! Won't even be second-best, because I won't be there to officiate! Oh yes…" she nodded emphatically, "You'll think of me…!"
She nudged her little body against his as they stood there at the door, and David felt the hot pouting tips of her breasts, inhaled her warm scented breath and heady perfume, glanced down briefly at her mouth and despised himself for wanting so fiercely to kiss her, to touch her. He let out a long, reminiscent sigh as he thought of all they'd done together. Then he pushed her away and turned his back to her. "You don't need me, Valerie, but I'm sure to find somebody who does. So… I'll keep on hunting. You win some and lose some…"
He opened the door and started down the hall towards the elevators. She called out after him, her laughter venomous and strident. "You've got a whole bunch of mental blocks up your ass, baby, that's what's wrong with you! And Goddammit, if you're that sick, why don't you try your wife? Now there's some pure, sweet perversion for the whole damned family… where you can come and come… and come!.. right up your living-womb, ladies and gentlemen… and here comes fruity Mr. Glad to sop it all up with Saran-Wrap and Tampax and Handi-wipes… ohhh, little boy blue, go blow your balls off!"
David forced himself not to think of Valerie as he drove home that evening. And when he arrived at the house and saw the note from Linda, he felt immensely relieved that there need be no pretentious conversation with her before retiring. She wrote him not to worry if she was a little late returning from her Great Books Discussion Group that night, as it was one of the girls' birthday and they were giving her a little party after the meeting. This reminded David that Linda's birthday was coming up in a few days and he'd completely forgotten it, which injected a heavy dose of guilt and conscience into the turmoil of his night.
And in the dark later as he lay in bed, the thoughts of Valerie came thick and fast. He saw her naked body stretched out on that white fur-rug, saw all those places where he'd drunk his fill… the bubbly neighbor-spots that twinkled at him with her legs flung up. Then he thought of the Buena Casa and her slippery thumb, and knew he'd have to handle himself in his dark bed and relive some of that… now wetting his thumb and gently rubbing it at the underside of his cock… oooh swirling, swirling, over the bounding vein…!