Heroine: The Husband's Cologne (12 page)

  
It was Tanja on the phone.  I was not only surprised but genuinely happy to hear from her. 

“Do you feel like going out?  I'll take you to a café at the
Heumarkt, we can get something to eat and chat a little.”  Her voice was hoarse, but soothing at the same time. 

“Sure, why not, I'm on my way,” I replied, my voice breathy.  Ever since we had spent time preparing for Erich's orgy, I felt so close to her that the mere thought of her gave me a warm feeling inside.  It was clear to me that without her support I would not have gotten through that wild night as skillfully as I had.  How grateful I was to her! 

I felt a tingle in my belly as the memories of that night returned.  What an indescribable evening. In fact, I could only vaguely remember the details of it: I had taken everything in as if in a dream. Only the sublime exhilaration of the second act was still very real to me.

The day after the event at Erich's, I had gone back to my apartment.  He had to drive to Hamburg on Monday afternoon, where he was to attend a meeting.  He offered to take me with him, so that we could spend the time together until the following weekend, but I said no because I wanted to be alone for a while until I felt I had recovered.  My orifices were still sore and I didn't want to be limping around in front of Erich. Instead, I confined myself to trips between hot baths and my bed. 

Barely two days had passed since the orgy.  Regardless of the aches and pains, I was still in high spirits the likes of which I had never felt.  As Erich and I had crawled out of bed on the afternoon following the event, he had glowingly reported a few details to me.  Apparently, I had brought most of the men and even some of the women to climax.

At first I was profoundly taken aback.  Had we not agreed that only Horst's appointed men were allowed to engage with me?  But then I saw his puppy dog look and I melted.  After all, I could now pride myself on some newfound abilities.  A pleasurable frisson alternated with aches and cramps in my belly. 

And now I was meeting up with Tanja, and wanted to tell her all about what I had been through.  She would be proud of me. I quickly threw on my tight black dress, which I seldom wore; tight jeans would have reminded me too much of my recent sins...

The subway stopped off right in front of the stylish café, which for Tanja and I had become a kind of sanctuary where we wouldn't have dreamed of bringing our men along. 

I swallowed hard as I realized that “men” for me meant only one thing: Erich.  Where was Daniel in all of this?  I paused for a moment as I realized that thinking of Daniel was now bringing back an immense longing.  It unsettled me and I entered the warm café immersed in thought. 

Tanja was sitting at our favorite table near the corner window, which afforded a view of the entire square outside while remaining comfortably secluded. 

“Sweetie, you look so gloomy, what's wrong?” she asked, looking concerned as we hugged. I held her tight and rested my head against her shoulder because I felt tears welling up. 

“I miss Daniel,” I sniveled.  Tanja stroked my back in
silence. I tried to compose myself. 

“I don't know
what's the matter with me.  Up until five minutes ago everything was fine, and suddenly all hell breaks loose in my head and I start missing my husband.”

For a moment Tanja looked at me puzzled. 

“Of course, your husband Daniel,” she said then, more in a mumble.  “I always picture Erich whenever you say 'my husband'”

“That's my point; I don't know where I belong anymore.  Sometimes I want to live with Erich, and then I start thinking about Daniel again.  At some point I'm going to have to make a decision, and I get the feeling that the decision I make is going to be the wrong one,” I concluded, muttering. 

“Alright, there's no rush, let's eat something first and then we can talk about it properly,” Tanja replied. 

I looked her in the eyes and smiled gratefully, and for the first time noticed that her left eye was swollen and wreathed in a bruise.

“For God's sake, what happened,” I asked, appalled. 

“Oh that, it's nothing.
  A few days ago I was getting food from a cupboard and accidentally left a door open behind me. When I turned around I ran straight into the edge.  It’s nothing serious.  Next week it'll be gone,” she said with a wink. 

“C'mon, let's order a
Prosecco and then we can eat something.  Let's leave the men out of it for a while,” she said with a laugh. 

I was only too happy to join her for the
Prosecco, which is a cheap and light Italian sparkling wine, but was doubtful whether I'd be able to dismiss men from my mind today.  We ordered the drink, and then another followed, and later during lunch Tanja had the waiter bring over a bottle of Riesling wine, which she was so fond of. 

“You know what
Prosecco is called in Berlin?” she asked on her second glass, giggling like a girl.  I shook my head. 

  “The call it a bordello spritzer,” she chuckled, and then held her hand to her mouth to keep from bursting out into loud laughter.  I looked at her, none the wiser. 

“I don't get it, why is that so funny?” I asked, and my friend peered at me with eyes wide. 

“What do you mean you don't get it?  The whores serve this stuff in bordellos.  I mean the
escorts
,” she corrected herself.

“Oh, by bordello you mean a
brothel
.  Now I get it,” I said earnestly.

“Sweetie, I think you might just be as naïve as you look.  What am I going to do with you?” Her voice was oddly calm.  “Whatever, let's change the subject.  So tell me, how was the big night at Erich's?”

I was happy to talk about something else; it was a little embarrassing to be considered naïve by Tanja. I was studying psychology, after all!  So I took the opportunity to tell her about my experiences on the night of the orgy, making sure to keep my voice down all the while.  Between the starter and the dessert, interspersed with a couple of glasses of white wine, I sat there buzzing with excitement as I reeled off the entire affair in all the detail I could recall. 

Especially when I spoke of Tom, or whatever the gorgeous black guy's name was
, I went into such loving detail that Tanja's expression suddenly took on an odd cast.  Her eyes gleamed and her cheeks were flushed red, like a teenage girl.

“I would love to treat myself to a guy like that...” she interjected in mid-flow of my story. “Horst is very macho and not very considerate of my feelings.  Besides, he's starting to get a little fat too,” she grumbled, her lips tightening.  Like me, she was obviously a little tipsy.  I was shocked by what I was hearing.  They seemed like such a wonderful couple.

“I thought you two were in love,” I asked, confused. 

“Of course, sometimes I just wish there were more tenderness and less wild sex,” she said, her smile returning.  But the smile looked a little forced to me.  Were they going through a rough patch?  As if she had read my thoughts, she offered an explanation. 

“Years ago, when I was younger, it was a lot of fun.  But I'm  42 years old now and I find myself wanting to ease up on the sex sometimes and just spend time with him. Alas, you know my husband.  He never gets enough.  At the moment, I'm the reason we're not getting along, but I know it's only a phase.  It'll pass.” 

I had my doubts, but decided not to bring them up. 

“Then I'll finish telling you about what happened, OK?” I picked up right where I had left off, realizing that just talking about it aroused me.  I was also hoping that by the end of it, I was going to garner considerable praise from her. 

“By the way, you should tell your husband to get some decent Champagne when I'm participating,” I remarked a little arrogantly, as I finished telling her about the episode with Ophelia.

“That stuff was so sickeningly sweet, that if I hadn't downed it without thinking, I could not have stood a drop of it.”

Tanja flinched and her nose went pale, which I put down to the few too many drinks we had had. 

“The stuff you drank – did it have a pink color?” she asked, suddenly ill at ease. 

“I think so. At any rate, next time he should only offer Champagne and avoid mixing his drinks.”

“You would be up for it a second time?”  She looked at me surprised.

I nearly choked on my liqueur as she said this, spilling it on the table, and quickly wiping it clean with a napkin.  Was I so drunk that I had just volunteered for another orgy?  Then something inside me clicked.  If I wanted to stay with Erich that could well be one of the consequences.  I may be required every few weeks or months to enjoy a little session of group sex.  And “little” would be the understatement of the year...

“I hadn't really thought about it,” I said, flustered. “Actually, I assumed that once would be enough.” Abruptly I felt a little agitated. 

“Obviously you had fun doing it.  Don't you think that this would also be a way to live a better life?  Right now you're a struggling student.  How much money do you even have to spend every month?  The money that Horst gave you should last you for a couple of years.  Besides, Erich is going to bring the subject up again sooner or later. Where sex is concerned, Erich is just as insatiable as Horst, if a little more subtle.”

“What money?  I did this out of love for Erich.  I would never agree to be paid for this,” I protested.  “I'm not a prostitute!”  I added peevishly.

Now it was
Tanja's turn to choke on her drink, as her face went hot red.  For a moment she was silent and just looked at me strangely. 

“He didn't give you any money for this?  I can't believe it.  You mean to tell me you're actually doing this just for Erich?” she burst out.  She was glaring at me so dumbfounded, that I suddenly felt dejected, thrown by her words.

  “Of course!  It was my proof to him that I love him!”  I countered defiantly.  We were silent for a time.  By now the café had emptied and we were the only ones left sitting in the corner whispering when we talked.  The lunch hour had passed and there was about an hour before the afternoon coffee klatch was to begin.  I glanced up and saw the waitress looking at us with a curious expression, and then she averted her eyes as she sensed that I had noticed her.  Had I been talking too loudly?  Had she overheard?  Oh God.  Abruptly, I felt the aches and pains from that night acting up again, reminding me of the evenings less pleasant after effects, which I had left out of my gushing depiction to Tanja.  I leaned over to her and quietly told her what was bothering me: pain and soreness in my lower body.  Amused, she grinned and whispered back.

“That was the price to pay for the fun you had.  But that'll pass before you know it.  C'mon, let's go to my place.  I have an ointment for that kind of thing, after all, I've been there myself,” she winked with a mischievous smile.

She paid for lunch, and as we waited for the taxi she had called, I told her more about the incidents from that night, in particular the moments from which all I could recall were colors, music and a boundless euphoria.

  
Tanja's city apartment wasn't far, but in the state we were in, it would have taken us hours to get there on our own.  The taxi driver was a sweet young Arab student, and I was so delirious that I entertained the thought of dragging him up to the flat with us and screwing his brains out with Tanja.  But my sore behind reminded me that I should probably think twice.

We staggered up the wide steps to her haven on the second floor.  She actually lived with Horst in an upmarket house on the west side of Cologne, but this apartment, situated in an ornate 19
th
century style residence, was a place she kept for herself.  “In the event that Horst might one day decide he's had enough of me,” as she confided to me once. 

As we stood in front of the door to her flat, I was laughing so hard I could hardly stand up straight; she had been telling me dirty jokes during the entire ride in the taxi, probably to keep me from flirting with the driver.  Well, he
was
cute...

“You can use the bathroom if you need to. I'll get the ointment and be right with you,” Tanja instructed me as we shut the door behind us.  I did as I was told, and as I came back out of the toilet I saw that she was wearing nothing but her black panties. 

“Sweetie, how do you expect me to put this cream on you if you're still wearing your dress?  Come here and turn around, I'll unzip you.”

I knew Tanja well enough now to sense what was coming, but secretly I wanted it to happen.  She was always so attentive that I trusted her implicitly and had
grown to enjoy the physical contact with her, something that would have been unthinkable for me before we’d met the first time.  In fact, so much of what I had recently experienced would have been unfathomable.  How much had changed since I'd moved out of that dead-end town in the mountains. And wasn't it better this way?  I had a rich friend, a glorious life of leisure, and, were it not for me missing Daniel, I'd have no problems to speak of.  But this longing for Daniel was causing me real heartache. 

“Daydreaming?” 
Tanja's said, rousing me.  I had practically dozed off on my feet.

“No, I'm alright,” I replied with a soft smile, and proceeded to turn my back to her, so that she could get me out of the tight dress. 

Startled, I heard Tanja breathe in sharply, and I turned around to face her. 

“Is something the matter?  Does it bother you that I'm not wearing anything?”  I asked her timidly. 

“
Is something the matter?”
she asked back with a mocking tone. 

“Yes, that's one way to put it.  My God, I've never met a woman who could cast such a spell on people.  Be it men or women.  Small wonder that Erich is hooked on you and Horst raves about you,” she cooed, sending a delicious shudder down my back. 

“My dear, you are so beautiful and seductive that you could bring the entire universe to a halt.  Be careful that you don't run into any ancient gods.  If Dionysus should cross your path, you'd be bearing his child in the blink of an eye.”

I liked her mythological reference, especially because it
revealed her to be more cultivated than I had given her credit for.  Whoever was familiar with the Ancient Greek pantheon must have received some kind of education in the arts. 

“Let's go to my bedroom. You can lie down on the bed and I'll put the cream on you.  Here's a pillow; just slide it under your stomach and raise your butt, so you're comfortable.”

I followed her instructions, lying face down on my stomach as Tanja began her gentle massage.

“Lord, you are really raw in there,” she said, almost apologetic.  “Did that blockhead Horst forget to give you lubrication?”

“I think it was more the number of men who were involved.  Erich told me that in the end it was about 20, including Horst's men,” I whispered, my eyes still closed. 

“But not all of them penetrated me; I suppose a lot of them were impotent.”

“Jesus, they could have really hurt you, how did you stand it?” Her voice sounded concerned.

“Thanks to you I was well prepared,” I replied, giggling.  I couldn't hear her muffled answer.

After she’d finished anointing me, I took my pleasure in caressing her body. As I lay resting once again, I looked down at her from above. She looked so small and vulnerable from here that I felt a surge of compassion rise in me. I kissed her softly on the part of her hair.  The few wrinkles I saw reminded me that she was not the youngest anymore. Her belly was a little flabby. Upon closer inspection I saw that it was lined with stretch marks, indicating that she might have had a child at some point in her life. Well, she was 42 years old and for all I knew her kids might have already grown up. I dismissed the thought instantly, for it seemed to strike a nerve in me that I preferred not to think about.

When I’d finished caressing her, she lay completely still with her eyes closed, as if made of stone. Only the quick rise and fall of her rib cage indicated that she was still breathing.

“Thank you, thank you,” Tanja stammered as she drew me closer to her afterwards.  She showered me with kisses, and I saw tears running down her cheeks in rivulets. 

“I've never felt something as wonderful as that before.  You are a good person and a fantastic lover.  I wouldn't mind going off to live on some deserted island with you.”

The bewildered look in my eyes must have sobered her up instantly, because within seconds her smooth features hardened, and I saw the fire in her eyes being snuffed out, frightening me a little. 

“I was just thinking aloud, I know you're not into women,” I heard her intone sadly after a few seconds of silence.  I shrugged my shoulders. 

“I have a good time with you, and I think I love you, but you're right, other women don't interest me,” I replied timidly.  I couldn't bring myself to tell her anything but the truth.  But had I actually just told her that I loved her?

It was at least the third time today that we fell into complete silence for a few seconds, while Tanja looked at me questioningly.

“No, you don't really love me, at least not in the sense of wanting to live with me.  I think you need men too much for that,” she remarked; her voice deep and poised. “But that's OK,” she continued.  “I'm so grateful to you.  You made me happy today, and I can't ask for much more.”

I looked at her hesitantly.

“What do you mean?” I didn't understand what was going on.

“Forget it,” my friend said with a laugh.  “We've just been through an emotional roller coaster, and sometimes people say things that don't make sense.”

Ironically, that did make sense to me.  One thing I had gleaned from my studies was that reason and sentiment operated on two opposing levels.  It was the latter that took the lead in me now as I cuddled up to Tanja's bosom.

“Why don't you
come work for me,” she said after I’d dreamed away for a while.  “You could work for me at my salon and even live there if you wanted.  And believe me; you could make some real money there.”

“Huh?” was the best I could come up with in the circumstances. The subject of “work” couldn't have been further from my thoughts, and I didn't even know where to begin answering her question. 

“I'm serious,” she went on.  “You could really make a good living there.  Why don't you come by tomorrow and we can talk about it.  I'll show you around my salon and Horst can tell you how everything works.”

In spite of her skillful fingers fondling me, I was suddenly uneasy.  I froze up a little, which Tanja noticed because she immediately stopped what she was doing. 

“I don't know the first thing about beauty salons.  Wouldn't it be better if you hired a beautician for that?  You know I'm not even very good at putting make-up on,” I said, feeling anxious. 

Tanja rolled over and propped herself up on her elbow, giving me the same odd look that I had seen a few times today already.  It made me wince and I started feeling something closer to fear.  Had I pushed her away?  I didn't mean to. Somehow I did love Tanja and wanted her approval.

“Horst didn't talk to you, am I right?  And he didn't give you the money.  So he basically he left it all to me,” she grumbled.  “Men!”

I was completely perplexed and my expression must have spoken volumes, because my partner took my into her arms, kissed me tenderly and began to talk to me in a voice that could only be described as motherly:

“Listen to me, my dear.  Horst should be giving you the money that all those horny bastards were obliged to pay for taking part in the orgy.  That was the deal, because Erich was demanding too much of a sacrifice from you.  Had it been only Erich, Horst and a few of his friends, then it could have been considered a 'personal pleasure.'  But considering that Erich's friends wanted to take part for the sake of old times, and since they're not exactly hard up, we decided to charge them for your efforts.  Why didn't Erich tell you about this?”

Again I stood
there, or rather lay there, like a doe caught in headlights.  My stomach began acting up, a sensation that had recently become a warning signal that I had apparently ignored one too many times. 

“How much was coming to me?” was the only thing that I managed to squeeze from my lips. 

For a moment there was utter silence in the room.  Outside the tram car rumbled by and I heard cars gunning their engines.  Tanja's apartment was actually quite badly situated, as close as it was to the intersection. 

“Twenty thousand Euros was your share.  You deserve what's rightfully yours and we're going to get it back for you,” Tanja declared with a snarl. 

I thought I must have misheard. 

“Can you repeat that?” I said, nearly gasping.  I was suddenly out of breath. 

“Twenty thousand.  That’s a two with four zeros after it.  And it’s tax-free.  How long would you have to work to make that kind of money?” she asked, her voice icy.

I repeated the sum under my breath.  That was more than three years' worth of scholarship, and two years' worth of money I would make in my residency, provided I even got a place.  Twenty thousand for one night full of lust and recognition, and on top of that to be able to remain close to my beloved professor Erich. 
Twenty thousand.

That also meant that within a few years I could be financially independent.  But I would have to give up Daniel.  Now I was suddenly cool and calculating.  I was going to have to choose between Erich and my husband at some point.  There was even the possibility of having Daniel pay my alimony.  He was, after all, the manager of an IT firm.  They were known to earn a lot.  All of these whirling thoughts were exhausting me more than the experiences I had just had. 

“Your cell phone is ringing, three times already.  Maybe you should get that and then we can continue talking,” Tanja said, rousing me from my trance.

“Sure, I'll get it,” I replied, still lost in thought. 

It was Daniel, and as I heard his voice I cringed.  I hadn't expected his call.

“Hi honey, I'm so glad you called,” I stammered.

“Juliane, where are you?  I've been dialing my fingers raw for more than an hour trying to reach you.  Is everything alright?” The concern was palpable in his voice. 

“Of course, everything is fine, why do you sound so upset?” I asked, perplexed. 

“It's  7 o'clock in the evening and you haven't called for the past two days.  I'm used to you calling every day.  I tried reaching you several times yesterday.  I've been really worried.  Where are you?”

“Sweetie,” I whispered into the phone.  “I've been at
Tanja's since yesterday and we've been talking up a storm.  I'm sorry I didn't call earlier.  I would have called you today if you hadn't beat me to it.”

“What are you talking about; you know perfectly well that I'm at work at 8 a.m., which is 5 p.m., for you.  Who is Tanja anyway?  You're not with another man, are you?”

His voice sounded thoroughly pissed off.  I hardly recognized him like this.  Daniel was jealous!  Something inside me rejoiced. 

“Daniel, please, I know it was careless of me, but I love you and would never sleep with another man.  You've got to believe me!” I was astounded at how easily these words rolled off my tongue.  For a moment there was silence on Daniel's end of the world.  Obviously, today was the day on which all my conversations were fraught with silence.  Carl Gustav Jung, the renowned Swiss psychologist, had referred to this somewhere as “synchronicity,” when a rare event occurs, only to be repeated in quick succession so often, that all notions of probability are at a loss to explain it.  I was studying that currently in my lectures, in
fact.  Then Daniel's irate voice burst in once again on my train of thought.

“I'm telling you that I don't know who Tanja is.  If you're at her place now, then maybe you wouldn't mind putting her on the phone,” he said with venom. I heaved a sigh of relief: that was easily done. 

“Tanja, can you come here for a second.  It's my husband; he thinks that I'm screwing some stranger. Would you please explain to him that we've been together since yesterday, and have been working on a project together?”  I said as I winked at her.  Tanja grinned from ear to ear and winked back.  I gave her the phone.