Messy love
Erick Poladov

© Erick Poladov, 2024

ISBN 978-5-0064-4195-8

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

PROLOGUE

– Tell me, why did you become a whore? – Harry asked, breathing deeply, leaning back on the sheets as soon as he reached the finish line.

– Does someone need a reason for becoming a whore? – Carla asked, lighting a cigarette.

– Every choice has a reason.

– Well, I don’t know. Is it so important?

– I’m just curious.

– Let’s say, it’s so convenient for me to meet people – Carla answered without thinking too much. – I like to study new people, and sex allows me to get to know a person the best, because it is the closest connection of all.

– But this is not the first time this has happened to us. This means that once is not enough. Or are you just crazy about me?

– Who said? Maybe you are like a riddle to me, covered in mystery, and to get to know you better, I need forty nights.

Portraying a satisfied smile, Harry said, running his finger along Carla’s bare, sweaty thigh:

– No, no. You’re just insatiable, admit it.

– One thing I can say for sure is that a quick shooter like you certainly won’t be able to satisfy a woman.

1. CARLA GERRARDI

The autumn streets of the city did not dry out from the rains for the second week. During business hours the roads seemed empty. On an ordinary weekday morning, her tall, slender legs walked smoothly along the damp sidewalk. On lush lips, a lipstick called «wild cherry» brought out its shine. A short black skirt enveloped her legs at the level of her buttocks, exposing everything else for a stunning effect on every man she met. So this time, a group of teenagers passing by burst out whistling, conveying delight at the beauty and sex appeal of the convex buttocks, for which Carla thanked the boys. She always appreciated such compliments addressed to her, because it was the main indicator that she went to work today absolutely prepared and did not forget anything.

Soon Carla parked her high heels on the sidewalk under the overpass where she met Georgina.

Georgina was thirty years old, two years older than Carla. She wore shoulder-length red hair and a leather coat that was constantly unbuttoned so that she could expose a red blouse with a deep neckline and protruding cans of three liters each. As usual, she was also wearing fishnet tights and over-the-knee boots. But Georgina considered her trademark artfully extended nails, coated with tiger-colored varnish. By this she tried to hint that she scratched the backs of her clients not because she wanted to, but because the tigress cannot behave differently in bed.

– Hello – said Carla.

– Salute – Georgina responded with a smile, delighted to meet her. – Well, how is it?

Without thinking for a long time, Carla answered:

– Yesterday was crap, and today is bullshit. You? How was yesterday?

Georgina took a deep breath. She answered, not without difficulty:

– My whole ass hurts.

– What, did the client spank so hard? – Carla asked sympathetically.

– It would be better if he spanked. This pervert took off his belt and started whipping me.

– Why didn’t you stop him? – Carla was perplexed.

– Because the triple fee stopped me.

– Darling, you make your living from this place. And if your body loses its marketable appearance, customers will stop paying even half the price.

Carla took out a pack of cigarettes and handed it to Georgina. Holding up the lighter, she asked:

– So maybe you shouldn’t have gone out today? Especially if you earned triple the rate yesterday.

– To be honest, I also thought… Oh! You dyed your hair.

Taking a puff of tobacco smoke through the filter, Carla nodded.

Georgina touched Carla’s hair, began fiddling with it and said:

– Interesting color. What is it called?

– «Gothic brunette».

– I like it. Where did you dye?

– In Bruno’s salon.

– Do you think it will suit me?

Blowing smoke through her lush lips, Carla answered, narrowing her eyes slightly:

– To be honest, you dye so often, but every time you choose a shade of red. So, I don’t know… it’s hard for me to imagine you with black hair.

– You’re probably right. I’m a tigress, not a panther.

Carla smiled widely, revealing snow-white, even teeth that made her smile look like a model.

– Okay, I’ll go. If you’re not busy, drop by in the evening, we’ll sit, drink some tea, watch a movie.

– Of course, I’ll drop by. Moreover, my ass is unlikely to endure until the end of the working day.

Carla smiled once again, and then moved on. She was heading to one of those bars that was frequented by locals from all over the block.

As soon as the cigarette was only half smoked, a green Chevrolet pulled up next to Carla, moving level with her. Puerto Rican Benny, a local huckster, appeared from the front passenger window. Benny’s trade items included spent pistols, synthetic drugs and alcohol contraband. His younger brother, Renato, was driving.

– Hello, beauty – Benny exclaimed, sticking his hands out.

– Hey – Carla responded indifferently.

– What’s up?

– No incidents so far.

– Where are you going?

– To the northwest.

Benny was desperately coming up with new questions in an attempt to continue some semblance of a conversation.

– And what’s in the northwest?

Carla reluctantly examined Benny’s face and just as reluctantly answered:

– Civilization.

– Um… – Benny began, waving a fan of bills in one hand – I was thinking, maybe…

Carla interrupted him sharply:

– How much do I need to say, I don’t give myself to everyone who wants to dive into me?

In an outrageous tone, Benny asked:

– And what is wrong? I can pay double the price.

– That’s the point. People like you think that everything in this world can be bought and everything has its own price. You do not pay attention to how time changes and live every new day in capitalism.

– And this comes from the one who sells her body several times a night.

– Yes, I am for sale, but not to everyone.

– And who are you selling yourself to then, the prince on a white horse? – Benny said sardonically, glancing at Renato, after which he added at the top of his voice through laughter: – Or to the horse?

– And why not? I like it when it’s deeper and tougher.

– So maybe you can show me the «Mariana Trench» in your womb?

Carla stopped, slowly walked up to the car, leaned her elbows on the window, erotically blew tobacco smoke into Benny’s face and slowly said:

– I’m afraid my crevice will be too big for your dwarf.

A grimace of indignation immediately appeared on Benny’s face. Before leaving, he called Carla a representative of the profession to which she, in fact, belonged.

Literally ten meters later she put out her cigarette and entered the establishment. Above the entrance there was a sign with the inscription «COCA-ALCO-COLA», and just below the advertising slogan «we are drunk as hell 24 hours a day». Carla came to the bar every three or four days. She drank alcohol in small quantities and did not look for clients here. But this particular bar was a place where she could often meet someone among her friends and acquaintances.

It was calm here this morning. As always, at this time there were no more than a dozen visitors here. Inside there were four pool tables, ten tables with soft semicircular sofas and ten with chairs, a bar counter, a TV and two Mexican cabinets as bouncers – Guillermo and Ernesto. The owner of the establishment was named Raul. He was one of two bartenders. Raul usually started his shift at six in the evening and gave way to his partner at six in the morning. Therefore, during the daytime, drinks were poured by a thirty-two-year-old German named Mats. Carla knew the owner of the bar, but she visited the establishment mostly during daylight hours, which is why she saw Mats more often, and besides, in the absence of a large influx of visitors, they often managed to have a calm, friendly conversation. Soon, after several years of acquaintance, Mats stopped perceiving Carla as an ordinary visitor. He was one of those friends that Carla could find here any time from six to six.

– Good morning, Mats.

– Ah – said Mats, spreading his arms. – Carlita. It’s always good with you.

– Even like that? – Carla responded with a smile.

– Even like that. When you’re here, I don’t need any sun outside. With your arrival, everything here is illuminated with light. What can I please you with today? – Mats asked, wiping the bar counter.

– Probably coffee and two sugars.

She immediately reached into her purse for her wallet. Mats stopped her:

– No, no. This is at the expense of the establishment.

– No. What you…

– We received a small bonus from the supplier: one pack of coffee, tea, cocoa and hot chocolate. And since you are not a stranger here, it’s free for you.

«How lucky I have been since the very morning,» Carla said contentedly, and after a couple of seconds she added: «What about the bartender’s services?»

– Is there a bartender around here somewhere?

– OK. I got it – Carla said in a cheerful voice.

– How is it going?

– If I’m healthy, then I don’t need anything else.

– This is what I call unsinkable optimism – Mats said with a smile.

– How is it on your front?

Mats leaned against the counter, took a deep breath and answered with a faded intonation:

– In any case, my mental health is not at all good.

– Why? – Carla asked, puzzled, lowering her eyebrows.

– Raul wants to make a rearrangement and install poles.

With her eyes slightly bulging, Carla didn’t believe what she said:

– Wait. He’s not going to hire strippers, is he?

– Yes. This is exactly what he wants. He has been looking for dancers for two weeks now.

– And how many?

– Four poles.

Carla’s lips curled into a tube. It was difficult for her to imagine a striptease bar in the place of the establishment she knew well.

– Wait a minute. Why are you so upset? Don’t you want to work and look at half-naked women’s bodies? – Carla asked, laughing slightly.

Mats placed a saucer with a cup of coffee on the bar counter. Among other things, having meticulously studied Carla’s habits over the entire time, Mats immediately placed an ashtray in front of her, knowing that she likes to inhale tobacco along with coffee.

Having served his friend, Mats folded his hands, leaned lightly on the edge of the counter and replied:

– Beauty, I’m not a fag. But I also don’t want to have unnecessary problems with excited clients. Now it’s quiet and peaceful here. No fight. Even in the late afternoon, when everyone starts drinking at full speed, it’s relatively civilized here. But a striptease will appear and this place will cease to be calm. The bouncers will have a job, and I will have to listen to clients shouting things like «flash your boobs» or «sit on my face» to the strippers. New clients will come here. This means more profit. Raul is striving for this, but I am not interested in this. I like my job. But with such changes, chaos here is inevitable, and what I earned is what I will earn.

Gently touching Mats’s palm, Carla carefully encouraged:

– Come on. Don’t worry so much. But it will be fun. What’s the point of working in an entertainment establishment without an audience? Well, yes, the perverts will come running. But you shouldn’t stress about it. Let the bouncers get tense. Because order and safety are their concern – Carla concluded, lighting a cigarette.

– I don’t know – Mats said somehow hesitantly. – Maybe it will be so. In any case, until you try, you won’t understand how everything will really turn out.

– Believe me, you will admire the magnificent forms.

Mats went into the storage room, and a few seconds later returned with a box of bottles of various contents. Having placed everything under the counter, he turned to Carla with a very delicate question:

– Listen, Carla. Can I ask you?

– Certainly. I’m listening to.

She finished her coffee and only had a cigarette left.

Overcoming a feeling of embarrassment, Mats nevertheless began:

– In general, I left that hairdresser three months ago. Long story short, I haven’t had a woman since then. I… I wanted to ask if you could…

– Oh… – Carla said, confused. She needed a long pause to collect her thoughts and answer something intelligible. – Listen, Mats. We’ve known each other for so long. Those whom I serve… I’m used to the fact that I am connected with them by banal sex for money. That’s how I perceive them. I mean, all my clients… I treat them with indifference. But you are not indifferent to me. I can’t go to bed with you. Or, let’s say, go on a date with you. You don’t deserve to connect your life with someone who has promiscuous sex. But if you need one night, I’ll talk to my friend. You’ll like her. True, now she is a little recovering from the meeting with the previous client, but tomorrow she will be fully armed.

Her pitiful and somewhat ashamed gaze did not leave Mats’s extinct face for a long time. She soon added, tilting her head to the side and placing her hand on his right wrist:

– Listen, don’t be offended. But I really can’t. I appreciate friends like you. Therefore, I don’t want to spoil a warm relationship with bed. And this is inevitable when you cross such a line.

A visitor in a business suit with a briefcase in his hand entered the bar. He moved towards the bar counter with a very determined and cheerful gait. Having covered ten meters, he joyfully exclaimed:

– Carla!

The visitor turned out to be one of Carla’s regular clients. His name was Harry.

Harry was above average height. He wore short brown curls and almost never wore anything other than business suits, white shirts, ties and highly polished shoes. Harry always had a clean-shaven face. He did not part with his briefcase, which showed him to be an office worker. True, during off-hours there was little left of the office subculture in Harry. He smoked like a locomotive, knew a lot about alcohol brands, was not shy about harsh expressions, adding color to his bright temperament, was a member of a closed orgy club and communicated with representatives of all social strata – from low-ranking politicians to heavy metal adherents.

– Ah, Harry – Carla replied in surprise. – What wind brought you here at this time? What, do your workdays now start at noon?

Harry sat down on the next chair and ordered a cup of tea and a chocolate croissant, after which he turned to Carla:

– I asked the boss for time off. I visited a doctor.

Harry opened the briefcase and began to rummage through the papers. He took out and handed Carla an A5 document with the words:

– Here. As agreed.

Carla had in her hands a certificate from the venereologist, which stated that Harry did not have any diseases.

After reading the contents of the certificate, Carla said with a bit of sarcasm:

– Congratulations, Harry. Now you will part with twice as much money as before.

– But the sensations will be three times stronger. Enough. My barrel is not a firearm that needs put the safety every time.

In response, Carla laughed.

While waiting for his order, Harry asked, nervously rubbing the tip of his nose:

– Listen, since it just so happened that we crossed paths here, maybe, well, you’ll take a fee for an hour?

– Won’t your visit to the doctor take too long? The boss won’t suspect?

– Fuck him. He fucks his secretary in the middle of the working day.

Under the mask of a thoughtful face, Carla said:

– Hmmm. Really. We are all living people. You can’t fight your instincts.

– Oh, yes – Harry suddenly remembered. – My parents are visiting me now. If you don’t mind, we could go to your place?

– No problem.

Harry quickly finished his hot coffee, after which he and Carla headed towards the exit.

Mats’s annoyed gaze followed their retreating figures.

Carla rented an apartment on the second floor. The house was located a block from the metro station. There were tram tracks nearby. At night there was relative calm around. The walls in the corridors and staircases were hidden under an abundance of graffiti, advertisements and obscene inscriptions indicating the addressees.

Carla and Harry stepped over the threshold. Taking off their outer clothes, they walked towards the bedroom. The apartment was noticeably clean. There was at least one flower pot in all rooms. In some places, high-quality fakes of world-famous paintings hung on the walls. In the living room, above the sofa, hung a copy of Claude Monet’s Beach in Pourville. In the bedroom was «The Pilot Jetty at Le Havre», the original author of which was Camille Pissarro. In painting, Carla preferred impressionism, admiring how realistic the objects in the paintings looked, despite the complex technique that the artists used. As for the interior of the apartment, for the sake of comfort, she adhered to minimalism; Moreover, minimalism was manifested both in design and in putting things in order – a minimum of dust on every square centimeter. Minimalism in her apartment was visible twenty-four hours a day. The wallpaper throughout was dark tones with gold, quartz and purple meander patterns. The bathroom was tiled with aquamarine tiles.

– Nice apartment – said Harry, looking around him. – How much do you rent?

– Five hundred.

– Not bad at all. Did you furnish it yourself?

– Yes.

– Sorry for being annoying, but how? I mean, for example, I need a year’s salary to have these things in my apartment.

– Let’s just say that I have seven clients who regularly bring a certificate from a venereologist.

They approached the bed. Harry lowered the briefcase to the floor near the wall. Carla began to unbutton her blouse. Watching Carla’s voluminous and firm breasts become increasingly exposed in her black lace bra, Harry waited a moment before saying:

– Wait.

Carla froze with some bewilderment:

– Something is wrong?

– No. It’s just that I can do it in twenty minutes, and for the remaining forty we could talk about something? One question haunts me, but I keep forgetting to ask you.

A little surprised by this request, Carla still agreed:

– Yes. Of course.

Shifting his attention from the breasts to the girl’s large brown pupils, Harry added:

– Just let’s get this done BEFORE we get down to business.

– Then maybe tea or coffee?

– Coffee. Yes. Thank you – Harry continued to say in a concerned tone. Some nervousness began to appear in his movements.

Without buttoning her blouse, Carla left the room, inviting Harry to follow her into the kitchen.

While Carla was putting the coffee on to brew, she asked:

– So what do you want to chat about?

Rubbing his lips and staring at the floor, Harry struggled to begin the conversation.

– I’m still tormented by one question. My ex always reproaches me for cheating on her like a dog. You’re a smart girl. I forgot what your profession is?

– Sociologist.

– YES! Exactly. So, can you explain to me where the line is between cheating and fidelity?

Rubbing his lips and staring at the floor, Harry struggled to begin the conversation.

– I’m still tormented by one question. My ex always reproaches me for cheating on her like a dog. You’re a smart girl. I forgot what your profession is?

– Sociologist.

– YES! Exactly. So, can you explain to me where the line is between cheating and fidelity?

Carla sat down at the kitchen table opposite Harry. She offered him a cigarette, but he refused, asking her to put the pack away. He insisted that they smoke from his pack.

After the first puff, Carla asked:

– What answer would you like, scientific language or simpler?

– Well, I’m kind of like an insurance agent. I think I can understand scientific language.

For a moment, Carla stared at the ceiling, rummaging through her memory, and soon began to expound:

– Well, listen and remember. Classification of sex. There are three types of sex: illegal, informal and marital. Illegal is when at least one of the two partners is married. That is, the wife sleeps with her lover or the husband with his mistress. In this case, a person violates marriage ethics by refusing intimate relations with legal spouse. In this case, a relationship with someone else can be clearly defined as cheating. The second type of sex is informal. If, say, an unmarried woman sleeps with a bachelor neighbor. None of them are married, and due to this fact, they owe nothing to anyone. But they are nothing to each other either. Therefore, if in this case there is betrayal, then it is, rather, a betrayal of one’s own moral principles, and nothing more. The last type of sex is marital. It can be formal and legal. Formal means that during sex, either husband or wife does not receive any pleasure, but do it because it should be so or so that a spouse does not suspect anything. For example, in cheating or lack of sexual desire. And finally, legal sex. This is the exact opposite of formal. Typically, legal sex occurs in the first years of married life. In other words, this is when spouses fuck like rabbits, and at the same time both husband and wife are incredibly happy from sex, after which they will not experience a feeling of deep shame, because no matter how you look at it, this sex is absolutely legal. But first of all, of course, it is legal from a moral point of view. – After a short pause, Carla said: – Questions?

– What questions? – Harry asked, rubbing his hands between his knees.

Carla immediately added, flicking her cigarette over the ashtray:

– But this is speaking superficially. I could tell you in more detail, but it would take several hours to describe the full picture.

– No. Thank you. I can’t pay that much for a simple conversation. I even pay my lawyer four times less for an hour of his time than you.

– Forget it – said Carla, waving her hand. – Now I’m not working, but helping in a friendly way. We’ll just go to the bar sometime, you treat me a cup of something, we’ll sit and have a heart-to-heart chat. You can ask about anything that interests you. I will help with all I can.

– That is…

Carla interrupted sharply:

– No. This conversation is included in the hour you paid for. I mean, if you want to talk about it one of these days, I don’t mind. I mean, we’ll talk as friends, not as a trader and a client. Comprendo?

– Quite – said Harry humbly.

2. SEXUAL RELATIONS AND MORE

Dressed in unusual clothes that hid all the charms of her luxurious body, Carla strolled through the gallery. She was wearing a striped black and white dress down to her knees and strict leather boots, and instead of «wild cherry», she wore «sparkling brut» lipstick on her lips.

That day there was an exhibition of works by the greatest representatives of world academicism. Carla’s attention had been occupied by the same painting for more than twenty minutes. Under the picture it was written: «The Romans in their Decadence. Thomas Couture, 1847».

With slow steps, betraying a leisurely gait and an attempt not to distract visitors from getting to know the objects of painting, the gallery manager, George Price, a well-fed, short, gray-haired and bald sixty-seven-year-old art connoisseur who had devoted his whole life to the study of painting and the development of this gallery, approached the girl. Carefully, in a rather restrained tone, George addressed the visitor:

– Miss Gerrardi. As always, you are picky about details. No one looks at paintings as carefully as you do.

– Hello, Mr. Price.

– Good day to you too – said George. It was evident in his voice how happy he was to meet Carla. He knew her as a competent visitor who could hold a conversation about the culture of fine crafts of various styles, which was atypical for her age. This fact never ceased to amaze George. Early on, he was sure that the younger generation was far behind in its cultural development and had completely lost the ability to appreciate the beauty of paintings. Carla, in his eyes, personified a rare exception. She was young, knew a lot about fashion, but at the same time showed clear signs of her literacy and excellent education.

George knew that impressionism was Carla’s favorite style of painting. But she was also very interested in the academic style. Therefore, he was sure in advance that she would never miss this exhibition.

With his hands clasped behind his back, George said without taking his eyes off the canvas:

– A person far from painting would say that several statues are painted on this board, around which half-naked contemporaries of Zeus are fucking.

The two of them smiled, after which George asked, turning his gaze to the girl:

– What do you think about this picture?

Squinting slightly, Carla continued to examine the picture, while simultaneously answering the question:

– Some say that through depicting the life of the ancient Romans, Couture wanted to demonstrate the decline of French culture. It shows how the people of Ancient Rome did not restrain themselves in their desires. We see the Romans openly display their desire for luxury and boundless pleasure, and do so against the backdrop of what should be considered the magnificent achievements of ancient Roman culture. These statues of national heroes and architecture, arousing admiration even among our contemporaries, cannot but be perceived as a great creation. In this picture, the Romans indulge in lovemaking, without wanting to think about anything vital or of great importance for the political and social aspects of the state system; that is, such an activity is a higher priority for them than everything else; and all this happens in the midst of what is considered national pride. If you look closely, you will notice that the statues are in a vertical position, and the Romans indulging in love are in a horizontal position. This feature of the picture demonstrates the absolute indifference of the Romans to what is around them. Some would easily regard this as a complete lack of any ethical standards in society. Such a phenomenon today would be viewed with harsh criticism, considered disrespect for objects of national heritage. What is now perceived as debauchery and something immoral was considered the norm in those days; but in the time of Thomas Couture, such behavior was already considered immoral. You can also notice how much the people in this picture come to the fore, leaving the statues and columns somewhere far behind them. Probably, with this, Thomas Couture wanted to convey the idea that people often consign all the greatness and historical significance of the past to deep oblivion, completely indulging in the power of natural instincts, thereby sinking to the level of animals.

George looked at Carla’s profile for a while, and finally said:

– One question keeps tormenting me: why isn’t your entire generation so willingly interested in painting?

Continuing to look at the canvas, Carla answered in an even tone:

– Personally, I think that art is the most beautiful form of lies. Perhaps that is why some are indifferent to it, while others are too weak to give it up.

– Well said.

Thirty-seven-year-old Lieutenant John Young was an example of a decent, godly police officer, a successful detective with a high clearance rate and an exemplary family man. But at the moment, he did with all this exactly the same as the Romans did with their national treasure – he consigned it to deep oblivion.

Even after the hot intercourse, accompanied by loud breathing and slippery friction, was completed and both were lying in bed, almost exhausted and hidden under a layer of sweat, his palm did not stop roaming along the attractive curves of her body, and his lips did not leave the most sensitive point on the breast. John preferred to work with his lips more than other clients. He could stick to Carla’s lips and not come off, stretching out one kiss for several minutes. Carla thought he was a little weird. It was unusual for her when a client admired her face for a long time. John was still the only client who tried to behave in bed with her as softly and tenderly as possible, without showing absolutely any rudeness. During all this time, he never dared to even give her a light slap on the buttock. At times, Carla had the impression that John perceived her somewhat differently than the others, showing excessive romanticism, which seemed inappropriate to her in sexual-market relations.

At the moment when John’s eyelids lifted for a fleeting moment and his eyes, blinded by ecstasy, opened, somewhere behind the sexy naked body of the girl in the distant background, he noticed the dial of a watch standing on the nightstand. He immediately looked up from the breast size 4 and said:

– Crap. Almost an hour and a half has already passed.

Looking at Carla’s serene face, John asked:

– Do I have to pay for the second one?

Her voice sounded as carefree as her face looked:

– Don’t panic. – Taking another puff, Carla added: – Consider it a sale today – two for the price of one.

John immediately put on a satisfied smile and began to cuddle up to her. Carla immediately stopped him with the words:

– What are you doing?

– You said that today is a sale. I paid for the first hour, now I want to use the second to the end.

Carla shook her head and said:

– I hasten to disappoint you. The sale is valid until two hours. It’s already past two.

John immediately meekly removed his hands from Carla. A few seconds passed and he turned to her again:

– Listen, I wanted to ask. Do you generally watch porn or read erotic novels? Well, I mean, where do you get your knowledge about how to have sex?

– I forgot the last time I watched porn.

John lay down on his side and, leaning a little closer, continued to ask:

– What about erotic novels?

– I haven’t read fiction at all for ten years now.

– It may be none of my business… partly. I just had a lot of women, especially before I got married. But in bed, none of them are capable of even a small part of what you can do. I used to think that orgasms mainly occur in women. Somewhere you mastered all this..

– During our third year as students, we studied psychology in detail. There were several subjects, each of which was dedicated to one particular area: family psychology, labor psychology, personal psychology, interpersonal psychology, group psychology, ethnic psychology, and so on. One day we began to study a section called «the relationship and interdependence of psychology and physiology». In my free time from studying, I began to study this section a little deeper. I dug up a couple dozen additional books and plunged headlong into research. As a result, I learned all the intricacies of how the human body reacts to a variety of stimuli, including sexual ones. I also studied the differences in male and female physiology. So one day I decided to test the whole theory in practice. Well, then…

The silence continued for several agonizing seconds until John’s voice broke it:

– What’s next? Come on. I crave details.

– Then I realized that I can charge hefty prices for my skills in bed.

After these words, Carla looked at John’s thoughtful face and laughed silently. A wide smile appeared on her pretty face, revealing her snow-white teeth.

Endlessly admiring Carla’s nakedness, John said:

– Will you treat me to a cigarette?

Carla held out her half-smoked cigarette.

Before inhaling through the filter, John asked:

– For free?

Slowly blowing a cloud of tobacco smoke above her, Carla said:

– No. This is covered by the promotion «one hour of sex and half a cigarette in addition».

She got out of bed and headed to the bathroom. John hungrily looked from behind at her shiny, convex moving buttocks hidden under a layer of sweat, which made him say after her:

– Listen. But let me still pay for two full hours.

Carla turned around for a moment and replied:

– No.

– Come on.

– I really can’t. I have a client waiting for me at four o’clock. It takes a long time to get to his house.

– Why are you so principled? – Paul asked twitchily and indignantly. – It’s okay to be stubborn. Name the price and let’s go.

Paul was seventeen years old. He was a first-year student, learning the specifics of the hotel business. The first time he saw Carla was in this same place, when she was talking about something with Mats. That day he played billiards with friends and, of course, lost big. Since then, Paul began to lock himself in the toilet twice as often. One could say that he decided to have a frank conversation with Carla only because he plucked up courage, but more likely he simply ran out of patience. He couldn’t stand it for so long. On the way to and from college, he met Carla five or six times a week. Animal urges became stronger and made themselves felt more and more often. Everything inside is burning and itching, and the mode «rise up soldier!» turns on automatically.

Carla did not take Paul seriously, to put it mildly. For her, he was an ordinary boy with a standard set of complexes and changes that come with transitional age and puberty. These words did not cause anything from her except restrained laughter.

Sitting at the bar with a smoking cigarette in the hand, crossing her legs, Carla said with a note of sarcasm:

– Go and start rubbing the bald without me, and by the time I get there, you’ll be finished. Your body is young, so you won’t have to work for long.

After a prolonged silence, completely despairing, Paul asked in a faded voice and with his hands hanging down:

– How did I offend you? Tell me. No offense, but you’re a prostitute. You sleep for money. I pay. What’s wrong?

Rolling her eyes around the ceiling, Carla replied:

– You see, Paulie, I am a commodity. But I strive to become not just a commodity, but a special commodity. Let’s say a crowd of office workers is sitting in some room. All these clerks are no different from each other. They sit in the same room, every single one does paperwork, gets the same salary, wears the same suits, comes and leaves at the same time. Each of them will remain part of this general mass, in which no one will be paid special attention. And all because they are in the same row, do the same thing and behave absolutely the same. They are no different from each other. So I strive to make whole crowds turn their attention to me; I want to write my name in history; so that people like me become an endangered species. I want this world to remember me. Never mind the fact that I’m a whore. This is also, you know, a lot of work. And this requires talent, which is not given to everyone.

– So…

– If I give myself to everyone who offers money, then my quotes will immediately collapse. I will no longer be any different from a banal low-grade whore who spreads clap. In simple terms, I want to become like a bright star in the night sky – to be dazzlingly beautiful, alluring, and at the same time remain inaccessible to absolutely everyone.

Paul’s sarcastic voice rang out:

– Like the best should not be available to everyone.

– Absolutely right, my boy – Carla said with a smile.

Sighing heavily, Paul took a book out of his backpack and once again turned to Carla:

– Well, at least can you help with ethnography?

Putting out her cigarette in the ashtray, Carla said, tapping her palm on the upholstery of the next chair:

– But in this matter I am available, like a collapsed meteorite.

While Paul was standing next to her at the bar, Carla turned to Mats, holding out a bill:

– Give us two glasses of Coca-Cola.

Matthew was Carla’s best friend. They met at the pool, where they both used to go until they were completely immersed in work – Matthew began to receive more orders in his car service, and Carla began to work on improving her skills, coming up with new positions and discovering new erogenous zones for her clients. She continued to develop her skills, even though all her clients were already happy to be in bed with her. BUT! Carla still wanted to be special, even if she was a whore. Matthew often came to her with a disc of some new Hollywood release, which they watched late at night, sitting in front of the TV with a bottle of something non-alcoholic. From the moment they met, they congratulated each other on every date marked in red on the calendar, without missing a single holiday. And they celebrated the last two New Years together; plus Georgina and several other friends were with them, with whom it turned out to be a small New Year’s get-together. At the friend’s birthday party a couple of weeks ago, Carla was remembered for the fact that thanks to her, Matthew became the owner of a painting in which he was depicted leaning against the front fender of a silver Ford Shelby Mustang GT 500 model. It was essentially a reproduction of the poster for the movie Gone in 60 Seconds. This was Matthew’s favorite movie. The painter did an excellent job on the canvas, which was practically no different from the image on the poster, except for the detail that instead of Nicolas Cage’s head in the drawing, it was Matthew’s; he was dressed in exactly the same clothes in which Cage masterfully curbed Eleanor’s¹ violent temper.

They were driving along a suburban night highway. The roar of a Chevrolet Camarro was heard inside the car, which Matthew had personally assembled for two and a half years, purchasing used parts of this model. Polished wheels emitted lunar reflections, and xenon headlights cast a dazzling glow onto the asphalt. The needle on the speedometer was already crossing the second hundred, the selector switched to fourth gear, speed and power took over their bodies, Carla indifferently threw the Marlboro cigarette butt out the window, and a frightened hare ran off the side of the road. A disc was playing inside, on which the world’s best hits from different eras were recorded. That evening the singers were mainly Modern Talking, Sting, Madonna, Kylie Minogue and Liza Minnelli.

Thirty-four kilometers from the suburbs, Matthew parked the Camarro on the very edge of a cliff. They both climbed onto the back and, sitting on the roof of the car, admired the rising of the full moon against the background of a clear sky, decorated with an abundance of bright stars. They chatted about everything that came to mind, and when two people take turns smoking a joint of marijuana, a lot of things come to mind.

Handing the rolled cigarette into Matthew’s hands, Carla asked:

– So what did you want to talk about?

– A classmate came to see me this week. He was passing through and stopped by in transit. You know, I went crazy when I saw what he arrived in and what he was wearing. He achieved considerable success.

– And what exactly did he succeed in?

– But this is the most interesting thing. He said he produces films for adults.

– Seriously? – Carla asked with a loud laugh.

– Four years ago he opened his own porn studio. They have already made more than a thousand films.

Carla curled her lips into a tube, making a loud whistle of surprise as she accepted the rolled-up cigarette from Matthew’s hand.

– Just imagine. But he says his company still hasn’t matured to the level of even average porn producers. The cast in his films does not have famous names. All the men and girls are completely debutants in this business. And every time the best personnel are lured away by some wealthy competitor. And then he also quarreled with the only good director.

– Continue – Carla said intrigued, returning the joint.

– So, we were sitting in a bar, and when he talked about the quarrel with the director and that it was a problem to find a good director, a thought suddenly popped into my head. I told him that I have someone who knows about the quality of sex scenes.

– Are you serious? – asked Carla. By this moment, her consciousness was already fully plunging into a state of mild euphoria.

– Absolutely. Let me introduce you to him. At least try it. It’s just that he gives so much money for one production that, if it weren’t for my complexes, I would have directed it and acted in it myself. What if you like this kind of work?

Carla peered long and thoughtfully into the distant night spaces hidden under the starry sky. Soon she asked:

– How much does he pay?

– The minimum salary is two and a half thousand. If three people are filming a scene, then director’s fee will be something like four to five thousand.

After a short pause, Carla asked another question:

– How much do actors earn?

– Beginners – no more than eight hundred.

After pausing for one puff, Matthew added:

– By the way. He said that they organize the work so that in one day they can shoot five or six films of thirty to fifty minutes each. So, you can make from fifteen to twenty thousand in one working day.

Carla lowered her eyes somewhere down and thought deeply.

I fuck with the wrong guys. Crap. It would be possible not to spread the legs at all, but just stand nearby and conduct.

– Give me his number – Carla said decisively.

3. CANDY MADE FROM MEDIOCRE PORN

Henry Hogan did not allow any actress to film without first examining her nudity. Among those girls whose bodies passed the casting, every second one stayed in the producer’s office to demonstrate their skills in practice and receive an increase in the fee in the future. Not a single film was made without his presence. He personally supervised the work of the film crew and controlled the most important stage of the production process. Each scene was worked out under his strict guidance. If necessary, he demanded that the director make repeated takes of some fragments. In search of new talent, Henry roamed beaches, shopping centers, university courtyards, cheap eateries and nightclubs. In these places he found the most suitable candidates who were most likely to agree to his offer. For the foreseeable future, Henry has set himself the task of launching his own website, where he plans to upload all the films to which his studio owns the rights. He already had a detailed idea of what his website would look like. In the meantime, he updated the filming and editing equipment, hired a professional stylist, and selected three new guys and two girls. And a couple of days ago, Henry took his company to a new level – he hired a certified costume designer. It turned out to be a twenty-two-year-old graduate of the institute, Gloria, who was fussing around looking for work, trying to accumulate experience and put her work on public display. She was incredibly happy when she was offered to dress actors for films of the XXX genre. She was not disappointed by the fact that the costumes she made would disappear from the screen in the third minute. She was pleased that these costumes would appear before the general public. At least Henry wasn’t lying at all when he told her that absolutely everyone watches porn, just not everyone admits it.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

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Примечания

1

Nickname of the car in the film «Gone in 60 Seconds» (dir. Dominic Sena).

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