She was in the middle of getting dressed that morning when she heard a subtle knock on her living room window. Assuming it was her husband who had once again forgotten his keys on the kitchen countertop, she didn’t even think about covering her half naked body. Her eyes widened when she saw the man, who had just recently moved into the house next door, peek in through the big window. It seemed to take the man a moment to realize what he was staring at, and once he finally did, it seemed to her as if the man’s mouth had opened for a split second before he lowered his head. “Sorry… Mrs…” the man mumbled. Not unfamiliar with slightly awkward situations, she thought it was best to not act ashamed or even try to cover herself with her hands. Instead, she walked closer to the window, her exposed breasts bouncing to the rhythm of her steps. “Yes?” she asked the man after she had reached a decent distance from the window. “Can I help you?” Even with the man’s head bowed, she could see a grin appear on his face when he said: “I was just wondering… if I could borrow some…”
It had been years since she had last felt that smooth, cold metal pole against her skin. So now, when she had recently found her nights unscheduled, she decided that it was time to find out if the thrill was still there. She took the cab to the shady side of town and sneaked into one of those small strip joints where the drinks were overpriced and the girls cheap. “Psst, do you mind if I dance here for a moment”, she asked the bartender and opened her overcoat a little, revealing her little lace outfit. “Umm…” the man behind the bar mumbled, swallowing audibly. “Sure… Candy didn’t show up so the pole’s all yours.” Soon after she hopped onto the little table that the staff called the “stage”, she was back in the mood, swaying her bottom from side to side to the rhythm of some racy electro song. For a moment, she was afraid that she might break her neck but the old tricks came naturally. In fact, she was enjoying it so much that she didn’t even notice the bar gradually filling up. Dollar bills of different value kept raining on her and in just two hours, she had earned her next month’s rent.
For a few days, she had been adrift within the realms of her apartment. Although the sun was still shining bright and the summer clung to the trees and fields, she could already smell the autumn. She sat by her balcony, scanning the sky through the open doorway, watching the summer birds race each other in circles. Soon the swallows would remember the winter winds and make their escape. There was this one particular song that had been playing in her radio awfully lot during these last days of the summer. Its chorus echoed in the corners of her apartment. “And I keep on smiling, keep on moving, can’t stand still…”
Lingerie: Dhoma – Alice – NEW, available at FaMESHed Earrings: Maxi Gossamer – Coachella Valley Dula Hair: Doux – Marcela Hairstyle Lip gloss: Luxrebel – Glitter Me Gloss Lipstick Eyeliner: Mila – Flash Winged Eyeliner Head: Genus Project – Classic Face W001 Ears: L’Etre – Basic Mesh Ears Body: Maitreya – Lara Skin: Mila – Vanessa Tan Backdrop: Foxcity – Photo Booth – Neighbourhood Plants: Soy – Potted Pothos & Old Hand Wash Bowl Stand Radio: Artilleri – The Levine Radio Pose: Foxcity – Lucid-1
It had been a while since she last had the whole afternoon just for herself. No scheduled meetings, no need to think about anyone else, simply no plans. She smiled as she sat down on the soft fur she had placed in front of the fireplace. She leaned against her fortress of pillows and started to go through her pile of unread romance novels. “What’s this one about…?” she mumbled to herself as she started to read the back of one of her books. The suggestive expressions caught her attention and she started to read the novel from the beginning. At one point, her free hand wandered down along her body, making her silky dress slip over one curve and curl up over the other. Without even realizing it, she was gradually undressing herself while her eyes devoured the racy story of the book. She hadn’t remembered to close the living room curtains, so the old man next door might have gotten an interesting show if he happened to be out on his yard at the right time.
A few weeks back she had met this guy in the neon glow of the city. With hazy eyes and an unsteady hand, she had scribbled her name and a phone number on the man’s forearm. The number was for the public phone on the street in front of the building she lived in because she didn’t own a phone of her own. “Call me any night at 9”, she had whispered in the man’s ear before she sneaked into the early morning shadows. Since then, she went to stand by the phone every night at 8:50 and waited there for half an hour. Cars and pedestrians passed her by, some nights were windier than the others, but the phone never rang. “If you don’t call me, I’ll be nothing but another shadow on the street…” she mumbled to herself, recalling an old song she had heard as a child, never fully understanding the lyrics until now. “If you don’t call me, why did I bother dressing up for you…” Suddenly, as she was already walking back in, the intense sound of the old and somewhat broken phone filled the street.
A dentist by day and a dominatrix by night, she lived what some might call a double life. However, easing the pain of her patients by day and making her clients suffer during the long nights, she was a professional of both physical and psychological agony. Her clientele covered all walks of life from blue-collar workers and housewives to physicians, professors and even nuns. Whenever someone in town needed to be controlled or punished, she was the one they turned to. No one knew her real name, they just referred to her as the “purple people beater” because there was always something purple in her otherwise dark appearance.
Ever since she had started her career as an exotic dancer, she had noticed that there’s this certain type of men. The creepy type. The type that got obsessed about her. The type that followed her around and peeked in through her bedroom window. That evening as she was putting on her sexy lingerie to surprise her husband with, she heard the familiar noises outside her window. She had learnt to recognize those sounds by now, it was the sound of a miserable man leaning against the wall and unzipping his pants while pressing his face against the glass of the window. She decided to play with the stalker a little. She stood up, her back towards the window, and bent over slowly, pulling her panties off as she leaned over, exposing her most sacred spots for the man spying in on her. “I wonder which one of them it is tonight…” she thought to herself as she leaned against the bed and stuck her big butt up. “Hghmm… FUCK!” the man exclaimed, unable to control himself. She grinned and wiggled her behind. “Sounds like it was Frank this time…”
A man dressed in a long brown coat and one of those hats that made you think of detective stories walked in hesitantly. The bar was seemingly empty. Dim light filtered through the dusty air and the wooden floors smelled like mould. “Good evening and welcome”, a female voice said. At first, the man couldn’t see where the voice was coming from but then a redhaired woman dressed in green appeared behind the bar. Or seemed to appear. The man was sure that she had been sitting on her stool all this time but for some reason he just hadn’t noticed her. “Evening… Um, I think this is my first time in here”, the man muttered. “Yes. Probably. Most people don’t know about this place.” The woman’s mouth arched into a subtle grin when she continued and asked: “What’s your poison?” The man looked at the selection behind the redhead. He soon realized that he couldn’t recognize any of the labels on the bottles. “Well… Suggest something. What’s good in here?” The woman looked intensely at the man, her grin widening slightly, her lips forming some inaudible sounds before she spoke again. “Everything is good. You can have anything you want. Anything at all”, the woman said and spread her arms dramatically. Hypnotized by her eyes, the man couldn’t find any words. All languages had left his head. There was nothing but emptiness and the woman’s figure left in his head. The last thing he remembered before everything turned black was the green of the woman’s eyes. How her eyes had gleamed in the dim room.
That day she woke up early to the sound of birds and the neighbour woman screaming on her front lawn (she had just gotten home from the local hellhole that didn’t close its doors until 5 am). “Oh, what a beautiful day!” she said to herself as she walked from room to room opening the curtains. Outside her kitchen window the woman next door vomited into her own mailbox. “Today I’m going to clean the whole house!” she declared inspired by the drunk neighbour. Forgetting to wear anything underneath, she tied on her latex apron and pranced back to the kitchen. “But first, mama needs some breakfast”, she giggled and opened the jar of pink lollipops that she always kept over the fridge. She started to lick her unconventional breakfast, rolling the tip of her pink tongue against the hard candy. The sugary flavour dancing on her tongue put her in a certain mood. She slid the sticky candy down along her skin and giggled as she proceeded through her whole body, inch by inch, with the lollipop. The early morning sun caressed her sugary skin through the open window. Her breakfast took longer than usual, approximately 47 minutes and 31 seconds. She blushed as she looked at the mess she had made with one simple lollipop. “Well… it was worth it…” she grinned as she licked her fingers. It wasn’t until she fetched the cleaning tools that the man next door closed his living room curtains (and his mouth… and his zipper) and went outside to help her drunk wife.
As always, she had been late for work. Her make-ups and outfit options were scattered all over the dressing room. “Curtain in two minutes!” a strict voice announced from somewhere behind the half-opened door. She quickly slipped into her pink outfit and looked herself in the mirror one last time. Taking a deep breath, she leaned against the cold wooden wall and said to herself: “You’re ready. You can do this.” The noises of the audience intensified as she stepped onto the stage and waited for the curtains to open, uniting her with the crowd. The first beats of the sultry jazz number that she had heard a hundred times gave her the much needed confidence and she started to move her hips to the rhythm.