5PM (2 page)

* * * * * 

I sit at
the computer and look at the business plan I have written up so far. It looks pretty basic, and I stare and wonder whether I should just be satisfied with working at Phelps Brothers. I’m earning a pretty decent salary, and if I go out on my own, I could risk everything.

Sure, Phelps is a pompous superficial dickhead who would sell his own family for a quick buck, but there are much worse out there I could be working for. If he even gets a sniff I’m trying to pull clients away to start my own real estate business, I’m as good as dead in the water in this industry.

I think of what Roger was talking about—some silly 3D chat program he uses to fulfil some missing sexual gratification he’s missing from his life. What the hell, I’ll have a look even though I’m not at all looking to fill a void which doesn’t exist.

It doesn’t take long to find and download the software for 3DDreamchat, and I restart the PC to enable it to run properly. I grab a pair of 3D glasses from the lounge room and boot up the new program. I have to pick a name and design my avatar, and quickly learn the glasses aren’t required. It’s not apparently the immersion type 3D, but rather means you can see the chat rooms from all angles. My avatar is much more handsome than I am, and I use very little imagination and just call him Terry25. Who the hell needs to know my real age anyway?

I look great as an animation, and I must admit the graphics are almost lifelike. It doesn’t look like a cartoon, but rather a realistic looking world. I look at the blonde surfer avatar and admire my great looks. It takes me a few minutes of clicking my mouse’s cursor at various places within the program’s window leading me to find somewhere I can get free stuff including a decent wardrobe of clothes and a few accessories. I have a chuckle as I think about me spending more time deciding on what I’ll dress a virtual ‘me’ in than what I do for my real life clothes.

So where the hell do I go now? There’s a prompt box where I can type avatar names to search for, and before I can decide on the wisdom of it, I type in Roger’s sleazy screen name. He appears a few seconds later in a small reception type room, which contains two sofa lounges. One has his avatar seated upon it and my own in the other sofa. It doesn’t take long for speech balloons to appear onscreen.

“I didn’t expect to find you here tonight; I thought it might have taken a couple nights to spark your curiosity. But hey, you should step into my bachelor pad,”
his avatar says. He sends an invite to join him in ‘Roger’s Heavenly Pad’ via an envelope appearing in the middle of the animated scene.

I take a deep breath and think to myself,
“Why the hell not,”
and click on it. The software has a delay as I wait for it to load the graphics for the scene which Roger has invited me to. As it renders in front of me, I grin as I see his avatar shirtless and sitting in a hot tub with two female avatars, while another two topless females stand and kiss to the left of the tub. Not surprisingly, all four female avatars are beautifully crafted, and I can’t help but wonder how far removed they might be from the real life females who control them from their own computers. Or possibly males.

“Hmm, you’ve brought some fresh meat for us,”
a brunette with the screen name of Brandy4U says.

“He looks delicious. You should come join us, Terry,”
the blonde with the name of CupcakeMary breaks away from the embrace she shares with Brandy4U and walks towards my avatar.

The animations are spectacular—the boobs of the topless woman sway and bounce in a natural manner. But I can’t be a part of this any longer.
“Sorry ladies, I just came here to have a look at this chat program and say hi to Rog. I’m a married man.”

“I’m married, too. Do you think it stops me from having fun,”
one of the women in the hot tub says.

This is all wrong. Surely, there must be something else to do in this program. The chat window with Roger is still open and I message him there,
“Hey, sorry but I need to leave your orgy room. Without sounding like a party pooper, I can’t get into what’s going on in there. Have a great night.”

“Oh, come on, Terry. None of this is real. Live a little, just like you did when we were younger.”

“That was different. I had nothing to keep me grounded and I was out there experiencing all the flavours life had to offer. I have Talissa, someone I can hold physically, someone who is really what I see and has real feelings. You have fun running around pretending to fuck hotties who are probably two-headed trolls in real life.”

“No need for that, Terry. Well, I’ll see you at work. I know you’re not getting any tonight anyway. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.”

I giggle out loud. Talissa and I still have an active sex life, but it’s not like our life before kids when I had it on tap. However, I have never once entertained the idea of looking elsewhere for some action. I’m not blind, though. I notice a beautiful woman when I see one, but it ends there.

I exit Roger’s bachelor pad scene and look at the program’s menu for some suggested rooms to look at. There’s a blues bar which grabs my attention, and as I enter it and the graphics load, I hear some music playing through the speakers—a sweet slide guitar and a deep voice singing about a train coming from another town, but not bringing the singer’s lover back. I turn down the volume on the speakers.

There are a few tables with chairs and only five avatars in the room. One is a blonde lady calling herself BluesGirl88, who walks up to me, looking immaculate in a little black dress just covering her upper thighs. For the first time, I hear an avatar talk through the speakers of my PC, “Hello, mister. Welcome to my club.” Her voice is husky and I find myself wanting to hear more.

I don’t have a microphone to use with the computer, so I continue typing,
“Whoever you have playing in this club, I hope they have a CD I can buy.”

She laughs. “CD? Who buys those things anymore? But, yes, you can buy their music online. Are you having a drink?”

I assume she prefers just to talk out loud than type, and it is quicker.
“I’ve just finished my third glass of red. I think that’ll do me for tonight.”

“Go on, have another drink. I’m a scotch girl myself.”

I look at our liquor cabinet on the wall. Several bottles of various brands of single malt scotch stand neatly in a line. What the hell, I think to myself and grab one I haven’t had a drink of since New Year’s Eve. I have a tumbler in the top drawer of my desk which I pull out and fill to just under halfway with the thirty-year-old fluid. I go back to typing to the blonde lady,
“You evil woman, you got me drinking at eleven p.m. on a work night.”

“You only live once, and one must experience as many of life’s wonders in the short time we get.”

Is she flirting with me? We chat for a few minutes about things like music, and how much of today’s sound is pumped out by machines rather than true artists who feel real emotions. There was talk of family life and of where we both came from. Of my childhood home in the country, and her living out of a suitcase as she travelled with her father from town to town, as he played all the pubs and clubs.

“Come see my place. It’s a beautiful little mansion I paid good money for,” she says.

“You paid money for a virtual mansion here?”

“What’s wrong with paying money for my virtual mansion? Some people spend hundreds on cigarettes or other hobbies. I love this world, we can be whoever we want to be, and spending money to enhance the experience makes perfect sense to me.”

An invitation appears to visit her mansion, and I take a huge breath and accept. The scene must be heavily detailed as it takes a good few minutes for it to load. I take a few nips of my drink while I’m waiting, and to be honest, I’m feeling a little light headed.

The picture loads in full, and I see her dressed in a black bikini sitting by a pool. From what I see of her virtual mansion, there are three levels in all, and an outside area containing the pool and a small deck area littered with various deck chairs.

“Do you like?”
She is now typing and I wonder if she’s asking for my opinion on her attire or the house she built in this virtual world.

“Of course.”
I pour myself another half glass of scotch and tell myself this will be the last drink of the night or else I’ll be waking up a little under the weather.

Her avatar stands, doing a full three-hundred and sixty degree turn.
“I even paid for some of these parts of my body. Would you like to see?”

“Sure, why not,”
I type, feeling my brain’s decision-making process drowned out with scotch. I’m starting to chart a course into waters I hadn’t intended, but this is just an animated chat program—what harm could possibly arise?

Her avatar disappears and a second later reappears into a bedroom on the third level, and I notice her bikini hasn’t made the journey with her. I use the zoom tool and look at the avatar’s naked body. The detail is lifelike and I question whether it’s unhealthy to be getting an erection from an animation.

“Do you like what you see?”
she types.

“Um...
yes.”

“These boobs and pussy cost a bit of money, but I couldn’t be without them now that I have them.”

What should I say to that?

“Come up here, Terry25.”

I feel nervous for real. Yes, it’s just a chat program, but with the scotch and wine affecting my head more than I like to admit, the lure of her nudity is strong, and I find myself clicking on my own avatar to remove his clothes. Although he is soon naked, I find he has nothing but a bare patch of skin where his penis should be.

“Maybe tomorrow you should spend some money to get yourself a big hard cock, then come back and see me. Goodnight, Terry25.”

With that, I find my avatar booted from her mansion scene and back to my own personal lobby. I look at the time and the clock says twelve-twenty-two a.m. I feel tipsy and horny, but with Isaac being in bed with Talissa, I know I’ll have to take care of my needs myself. I shut down the chat program and then the computer, then walk to the bedroom and strip off, and put on some boxer shorts before climbing into bed. Isaac is in the middle, but being a king size bed there is plenty of room for all three of us to fit. Talissa stirs, but I don’t think she’s woken up, and I lay on my back for a few minutes with my eyes open, thinking about the blonde woman in the virtual world. I need to switch off and forget her, never return to there again.

No good can come of it.

DAY 2

A six and
a half hour sleep doesn’t work well for me, a man who has lived his life with a solid eight hours each night. I hit the snooze button twice before dragging myself out of bed. At the breakfast table, Talissa looks at me and smiles. She already has a big mug of steaming hot coffee waiting for me and a plate of eggs and bacon.

“Baby, have I told you how awesome you are?” I ask her. There’s a touch of guilt sitting in the pit of my stomach for my late night activities with a stranger on a chat program.

“Not for a while, but I kind of had an idea anyway. You haven’t forgotten what the day after tomorrow is, have you?”

“I was thinking it must be golf day,” I smile and wink at her. “I’ll book a table somewhere. I’ll surprise you.”

She comes up behind me and wraps her arms around me and kisses my cheek. In her eyes, I’m the most wonderful thing on Earth, as well as our children. “And maybe you can have me for dessert,” she whispers in my ear. Her breath so soft, but the tone of her voice and her suggestive words awaken me below.

She disengages herself from me and walks over to the fridge. She hasn’t showered yet so is still in her silk nightgown, and as she bends down to pull a carton of milk from the bottom shelf of the door, I can almost see her arse cheeks. I look at the kids, who are too busy with their bowls of cereal to notice me checking out their mother.

* * * * *

As soon as
I get to work and hit the staffroom, Roger comes running in. “So what do you think? You were still in the chat for at least two hours after you left my chat room. I saw your status as green in my buddy list.”

Oh, shit! “Well, I found a much more subdued place to chat, a blues bar. Good music and intelligent conversation. No offence, but it’s more than I can say about your orgy party.”

He laughs at my friendly jab. “So you were listening to music until after midnight and talking politics? I find that hard to believe.”

I look all around, although there’s little point as no one else is in the room yet. “Okay, there was this blonde woman, she spoke about her love of the blues and—”

Roger cuts me off. “A blonde? Terry, the brunette and raven haired lover spends hours talking to a blonde?”

“Hey, I have been with a couple of blonde women back in the day. If a woman has a pretty face and a great body, how does hair colour change it?”

Roger points at me. “Ha, ha. There’s the old Terry I remember. So, did you fuck her virtual brains out?”

“No, and even if I wanted to, I don’t have the necessary equipment on my avatar to do it. It’s only been one night, but I’m done with the chat. I have a real life wife with a real vagina, not these pixel chicks with animated tits and pussies.”

Roger grins. “You just have to keep rubbing it in, don’t you?”

I feel bad for him, even if he is a pervert. “Sorry, Rog.”

We might be around the same age, he with two years more than I, but we’re at completely different points in our life. Before I can say anything else, Kate and George walk in.

“Looking a little tired today there, Terry. Should I even ask?” George says and giggles.

I don’t give him an answer. What he probably thinks happened would be better than the truth. Kate says hi to Roger and me and then heads straight for the coffee machine. Even she’s looking better than I am today.

“Well, these properties won’t go out and sell themselves,” I say and walk out of the room with a steaming mug of black coffee. I never drink it black, but this is a day when I don’t need the milk to get between me and the caffeine my body desires.

Phelps is standing in my office as I enter it, his face unfriendly as ever. “I sure hope you present yourself better to Mrs Pellmont when you see her this week.”

“You’ll never be happy with my work, will you?”

“It’s not your work. It’s your smart ass attitude you and your buddy Rog use around here. It’s as if you two are the ones running the place. Well, I guess we’ll have to see how some new blood in this office will pull you guys into gear.”

“I’ll sell the Pellmont mansion like I sell everything else that comes my way—like a damn boss.”

“Make sure you do.”

I watch him as he turns to leave my office. He grabs the door handle, but before he leaves, he throws a parting shot my way. “You know it wasn’t my choice to hire you and Rog, so I don’t get why you’re so shocked with the fact I don’t particularly like the pair of you. One day, you might be in my shoes and find yourself in a three-way deal leaving you filling your branch with arseholes you don’t want.”

The stupid prick leaves before I can respond, which probably benefits me more than him given the circumstances. I can’t imagine my tired retort would help my position in the company at all.

I close the door behind him and go to my desk and look at my list of sellers with properties still on the market. It’s a rare thing when someone has their property still up for sale after a month, but as soon as the month ticks over, my work computer will highlight it on my desktop screen.

Thankfully, today isn’t one of those days. I have enough shit to deal with and I can’t believe I feel as tired as I do. I should be able to skate through the day as long as I get six hours sleep, but maybe being close to forty has slowed me down somewhat. And to make matters worse, today is such a quiet one. I waste time until the end of my workday doing mundane tasks such as preparing leaflets for a letterbox run to try to drum up some more business for the ungrateful prick I work for.

* * * * * 

As soon as
I arrive home from work and get inside, I see Talissa and realise I haven’t booked anything for our anniversary dinner. Since it’s a ten-year milestone, I should have really been prepared and put in a much better effort. Maybe take her away for the coming weekend. It’s not too late. I could find something and spring it on her as a surprise.

“Hi, handsome, how was your day?” she says and comes up and gives me a kiss. She has the energy of a teenager it seems. I just wish I had the energy to keep up with her. Apparently, Isaac is still not well, so she plans on an early night with him. They say boys always gravitate towards their mothers, and he is no exception. I know he loves me, too. We do a lot of boy things together like playing with cars and kicking soccer balls and playing backyard cricket. But when it comes to bonding, he’s all Mummy’s boy.

While we eat dinner, things are quieter than normal. Talissa looks over at me from time to time, and the look she gives me shows me she knows I’m not my usual self. Isaac hardly eats a thing while Matilda is all eyes on Daddy tonight because, for some reason, I’m her hero.

* * * * *  

It’s only eight
p.m., but already, I’m the only person in the house still up and not in bed yet. There’s nothing good on TV tonight so I head to the office to check out what’s happening on social media. The newsfeed is full of friends posting photos of their dinner, opinions on which celebrities are hot, which ones are losers, as well as multiple cat memes. Most nights I wonder why I even log on, but I have siblings, cousins, as well as old school friends who I like to keep in contact with.

I can’t even think of a witty status update to post.

Roger’s posted a photo of himself sitting on his couch with his laptop, obviously not aware of the fact the screen of his laptop is in the picture. He’s on the chat program already and with a lady.

I’m bored. I don’t get into online gaming at all and my brain isn’t in the mood for working on my business plan. I think about the blonde from last night for the first time since I got home from work and decide to open the chat program. I mark myself as offline to Roger. I don’t need him at work tomorrow in my face questioning me about appearing online and not stopping in to say hi. I look at the shop section at what I could spend money on, and within seconds, find myself drawn to the adult section. There’s a selection of penises to choose from, and obviously, they are all large in size and erect. The more lifelike they appear, the more expensive they are, but five dollars seems reasonable for a top of the range one.

I chuckle and think of the silliness of it, but it’s just a bit of fun. I also purchase a black suit and then send my avatar to the blues bar. There are a number of males and females there and a big group chat is happening. People are talking about the music playing in the background, and while it’s not as good as the music played the night before, it’s still quite decent. As yet I don’t see BluesGirl88 in the club, so I just sit back at my desk and watch the small talk in the room. Not surprisingly, every avatar is good-looking and the majority of the females are dressed in cleavage- and leg-exposing attire. This whole thing is so removed from the real world I can understand the attraction to it.

I’m in reasonable shape, but then I do eat and drink sensibly and make sure we’re pretty active on the weekends unless my work drags me away. But saying this, I’m not even close to the perfectly crafted piece of male flesh on my screen representing the real me—who’s floating through this virtual world of perfection.

The bottle of scotch is still on my desk from last night, and my unwashed tumbler sitting next to it. I pick it up and take it to the kitchen to rinse it out and grab a packet of potato chips before returning to the home office. Placing the tumbler on the desk and half filling it with some of the silky smooth alcohol, I look at the monitor and see a chat request from someone named DancerGirl.

I accept and find my avatar standing by the ocean looking rather silly in a full three-piece suit while the leggy brunette is lying on her back on a towel catching virtual rays in a string bikini.

“Hi, do I know you?”
I type.

“Not yet, but take a look at me—I think you’d like to,”
she types back.

I laugh out loud and take a swig of scotch. It tastes just as good as it did last night. During my wild single years I could pick up a woman for the night most times I went out, but they were never as forward as these chat girls. It’s what I’ve always said, the internet allows us not only to be who we want to be, but it also seems to give everyone the courage of a lion to say what they want.

“Haha,”
I type and click on my suit and change to a pair of board shorts.

“Now, that’s better, Terry. How about coming over here and rubbing some oil onto my back?”

I click on her back and my avatar goes from one side of the scene to the other. He’s supporting his weight on his knees, one on each side of the sexy brunette on the towel. His hands move up and down along her back in a crude-looking massage action. She’s doing something making her avatar repeatedly groan in satisfaction. I know the sound is coming from the chat program and not a microphone; it has a cheesy pre-recorded tone to it.

“Wow, I’m only rubbing lotion on your back, and you’re getting all excited. I knew I was good, but not THAT good,”
I type.

“Don’t flatter yourself too much, mister. It’ll take more than this to get me off.”

I nearly spit the drink from my mouth with her comment. It takes me a minute to prepare my comeback.
“Well, you best keep being nice to me if you want it to happen. I save my best work for the bitches who earn it.”

This will either bring the chat to an abrupt end or shoot things ahead at light speed. I’m not feeling the least bit turned on by her avatar just yet, so I think this will be a laugh if nothing else.

DancerGirl moves from the towel and is now knee deep in the water with the back of her visible. Her bikini top disappears and her avatar has no tan lines. Trust me to pick up on those little details, but then my sharp eye has been a great asset to me in my occupation. When you appraise a house for a potential client, you need to take notice of every little thing that can add value or reduce it.

“What are you waiting for, you big talker? Click on my back... Stud!”

I do as she says, and my avatar re-emerges standing right behind her, his hands working their way over from her back to her breasts, cupping, and rubbing them before the animation repeats itself over and over.