Under The Radar, Behind The Sun

Discussion in 'The Otis Papers' started by kingotis, Jan 20, 2013.

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  1. Are you no longer writing here Otis? I always enjoyed your style, it calls to mind a forgotten age of grim and glamour, and encounters that scent the air like soft perfume.
  2. NewComplex

    NewComplex

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    185
    I can't believe it took my this long to get out to these parts of the forum.

    This was quite a moving tale. Thank you for sharing.
  3. Chauncey84

    Chauncey84

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    You should really have a book deal Kingotis. Seriously.

    Saw this book in the store and read a few chapters. She is 1/millionth as talented as you.

    http://www.amazon.com/Screw-Everyone-Sleeping-Way-Monogamy/dp/1580054390

    If this chick can write a boring book about all the sex she's had in her life, you would sell millions.

    I eagerly await your further adventures.
  4. clicker2659

    clicker2659

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    1,206
    Just bustin KO! Penthouse is waiting for your response. btw going to see my nice lil chinalady for a plumbing inspection.;-)
    Last edited: Jun 12, 2013
  5. Brad Piff

    Brad Piff

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    22
    Great story man. I'm going through this now with my np4p. Different situation but the same feeling. Both in relationships. That need man can be so strong...so intoxicating...even if you know how the story will end
  6. kingotis

    kingotis

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    Short and sweet is not in my nature...
  7. clicker2659

    clicker2659

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    1,206
    hey ko these stories take too long to effin read! make it short n sweet! thanks
  8. kingotis

    kingotis

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    425
    Thanks, and no apologies.

    Very rarely does life compartmentalize itself and play out the way it does in books and movies. Dischord is at least as important as harmony, sour as vital as sweet.
  9. aarc2417

    aarc2417

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    wow

    WOW I am still scrambled , I'm happy and not maybe bitter sweet I wanted to compliment you on your story but so indecisive in what I want to say , this is amazing brought me back , also made me realize things I couldn't understand I related with you every step of the way and even though you hinted it wasn't going to end the way most of us wanted we couldn't help but root for it , I wanted to punch my screen even though I knew it wasn't going to end the way I wanted it too this just blew my head back and I have to reflect on it some more so sorry if I was premature or even confusing in my compliment but I just had top say something
  10. Traderdave

    Traderdave

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    5
    "We will always have Brooklyn"


    thanks KO

    TD
  11. kingotis

    kingotis

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    Don't be so sure of that. Love does not assess its surroundings or check pedigrees. Love does not confine itself to where it's "supposed" to happen. Love is not convenient. Love doesn't shrink away with its shoulders slumped because it's afraid to fuck things up. Love tramples carefully organized lives because when it finds you it turns the order of your life on its ass and smacks you so hard you can't look away.
  12. lickytick

    lickytick

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    10
    Man, thanks for sharing this with us. It definitely is the right ending. I could picture it any other way that makes sense. Just reminds one that this is no place for romance.
  13. kingotis

    kingotis

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    425
    Part 18 - The Ember's Glow

    I've never really liked the idea that time passes in a linear fashion. The notion that each moment is followed by a subsequent moment is just an artificial construct designed to impose order on the natural chaos of the universe. Imagining time as a sequence of instants allows us to divide it into measurable increments, which means we can have things like "calendars" and "schedules" and actually manage to show up at specific times for specific events and appointments.

    Thinking of time as a "dimension" that goes in one direction is convenient, but it's destructive because when a moment passes it is gone, overtaken and replaced by the next moment and the one after that and the one after that. The time I had spent with Lily could be divided into minutes or hours. It could be relegated to the past, it could be filed away with other memories, because once again, things had changed, circumstances had evolved, life had worked its wicked magic. I had walked into that spa as one man, but now I was someone else...and yet, nothing had changed.

    My reunion with Lily was borne of lust, I would be fooling myself to pretend it was anything else. The emotional need that had driven me to her for months hadn't ceased to exist, but I had made a deliberate decision, an act of will, to divorce Lily from my need. All that remained was the physical connection, the knowledge we had acquired as to how to please each other and the means to satisfy our collective lust.

    I walked out of that apartment into the Brooklyn night like I had scratched an itch, like I had eaten a good meal, like I had downed a good belt of scotch. I had gotten something I wanted, and it felt good, and I walked for a while with the step of a man whose desire has been fulfilled. As I walked, the feeling slowly faded the way sensual experience fades. The hole in my soul cried for sex, for alcohol, for any kind of fix. That belt of scotch feels good, but to live a man needs water, a man needs to put his mouth to the spring and to drink until there is nothing more to drink.

    Lily had become another slice of cake, another shot, another piece of ass. She was still a beautiful woman. She was a beautiful woman and when it started, fucking her was like breathing, like life itself. She was still that same woman, but I was not that same man. I had drunk from the well, I had drunk until I could drink no more, and still my thirst was unquenched.

    It would be easy to end here, to say I moved on, made a clean break, a firm resolve. It would be easy but it would be a lie. In my heart I knew it was over, that it would never be what it once had been. In my heart I knew it but I am still merely a man, and while I hoped for more I was weak enough to settle for less, and for a while I showed up at Lily's door every now and then and we would laugh a little and fuck, but neither of us had any skin in the game anymore. Our hearts were somewhere else, we were each the other's escape.

    When Lily finally told me she was moving to Florida to live with some Aunt so she could go to school and learn more English, I felt genuine happiness for her. I felt no regret, no remorse for what might have been. She and I were not meant to be together, that's all. The universe had better things in mind for both of us. In forcing her from my heart after losing her once I had done us both a favor, I had made it easier to move on, and moving on was what we both had to do.

    I still walk those lonely streets in those same shoes, that same hat, with that same lonesome look in my eyes. You've probably passed me once or twice on the sidewalk without thinking twice. I'm just another invisible man, another soul bobbing like cork in the ocean of Manhattan, another nobody who's somebody to someone somewhere.

    My heart isn't so empty anymore, that look in my eyes is just how I look. The smiles come slowly but when they come they're real. Moving on was what I had to do, but every now and then I pass a face on the street that looks like Lily. Once in a while I hear a song that makes me remember one of those perfect moments, those exquisite hours. And every so often I feel a cool breeze on a hot summer day and it feels like freedom, the freedom Lily gave me for which I will always be grateful. After all that walking I have finally stopped, I am at peace where I ended up.

    Our paths crossed for a moment or two, just a few steps on our separate journeys, but in one little corner of my heart there is an ember that still glows, and when it's cold it keeps me warm. Lily will always be with me. She will always be there somewhere with a laugh and a nod that warms me from within. I'll never lose that little ember, that little spark. The rest of my heart is full, I have nothing left to hide. I found the arms in which I will rest forever, but I'll always have the gifts that Lily gave me, and I will always think of her and smile.
    Manchurrio likes this.
  14. kingotis

    kingotis

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    425
    Part 17 - Need

    The trip to Brooklyn never felt longer or slower than it did that day. I was consumed with pure sexual desire, my mind was filled with images and words that were utterly pornographic. I am by nature romantic and emotional but on that day I was pure libido, a walking hard on. I finally made it to Lily's place and I could feel that my face was flush and my cock was semi-erect before I even walked in the door.

    I resolved to contain myself a little, to refrain from falling upon her like a ravenous beast and consuming her the instant I saw her. I resolved to exercise self control, to make conversation, to let her get comfortable with me before I tore her clothes off and took her like a thief in the night.

    She answered the door in a t-shirt and jeans. I looked her in the eyes and smiled. Her eyes were clear and bright, she smiled just a little and I leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the cheek. She invited me in and sat me at her kitchen table as she made us some tea. Watching her move, her breasts moving as she assembled cups and teabags, no bra under that shirt, her nipples hard. Her ass looked even better in jeans than in the dresses and skirts she usually wore.

    I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. My cock was raging in my pants, but I forced myself to ignore it. "How have you been?" I asked. "How is life?" There were a thousand unanswered questions. Why had she quit her job at the spa? How would she make a living now? Where had she been? How did she know I was staying away from the spas? Why had she shut me out for so long only to come back seemingly out of nowhere? There were a thousand questions and yet there was only one question: "When?"

    She said she was fine, life was good. She wanted to go to school, she said, to learn more English. I watched her intently as she sat at the table with me and poured the tea into the cups and then I saw it. As she put the tea kettle down I watched her hand and I saw it tremble just a little, not from fatigue - Lily had the strong arms and hands that come with her profession - but from fear and desire. I followed her arm with my eyes and soon was looking at her face and I saw her bite her lower lip slightly as a tiny bead of sweat emerged on her forehead. The time for self restraint was gone. I put my hand on hers and she didn't flinch, didn't withdraw, didn't move a muscle. I could hear every shallow breath, could see her chest heave a little.

    I stood up, my hand still touching hers, and my hard cock strained against the front of my pants. Her eyes trailed down my torso and then she saw it and I heard that catch in her breath, that tiny gasp. I pulled her up and pulled her body to mine and kissed her lips lightly at first, then harder, and soon our tongues were entwined.

    She pushed against me and I reached down and pulled her shirt off. Her beautiful breasts stood firm, and her nipples stuck out the same way my cock strained against my pants.

    She went limp in my arms for a moment as I touched her breasts and felt her hard nipples and then, as if she had been plugged into an outlet, she clawed at my clothes and pushed me backwards toward her little futon across the room. We were both naked in seconds and for a moment she kneeled above me. Her eyes were cloudy with lust.

    As hard as I had worked to purge Lily from my heart, I was powerless to erase her from my mind. I wanted her more now than ever. I wanted her mouth and her ass and her pussy and her tits. I wanted her taste in my mouth, her smell in my nostrils.

    I looked into her eyes, and all I saw was her desire, every bit the equal of mine in its intensity, volume and power. Nothing else mattered now. There didn't need to be anything between us but lust, we didn't have to have anything between us except the physical connection between a man and a woman. I felt it from her as strongly as I felt it inside myself. The time was now.

    I pulled her on top of me and felt her wet pussy rubbing against my hard cock. I felt no hesitation, no need to stop and slow down, no thoughts of any kind. I just needed to be inside her, and I pushed up slowly with my hips until the head of my cock entered her and I saw her eyes roll with pleasure and heard that long slow moan from between her lips.
  15. kingotis

    kingotis

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    425
    Part 16 - Desire

    Weeks went by. I felt the absence of Lily acutely and painfully at first. There were reminders of her everywhere. I saw her face in the windows of a passing train. I was sure I saw her walking ahead of me in Midtown. My phone would buzz with an incoming text and I would silently hope it was from her.

    I was acting like a first class sap. Ours was a business relationship, I reminded myself. Nothing more. I went for a massage, thinking the touch of a hand would mask my feelings and get me back in the game, but it was merely disappointing, a poor substitute for the intimacy I had with Lily. I felt like that had to be a new low, and what was worse was that the massage girl had done everything possible to try to make me come, but I just couldn't.

    Slowly, though, the sting wore off and I started to walk like a man again. Every day I felt a little better, I thought about her a little less, I moved on in my mind and scar tissue formed. I was a little harder than I was before, a little less open and giving, a lot more guarded and careful. I eased back into my little hobby, approaching every encounter with careful distance. With the openness and availability I had projected in my past encounters gone, the hobby felt cold and clinical and I drifted away from the spas.

    It was late in the year, a grey December afternoon, when everything changed again. I was taking one of my long, aimless walks when I felt a buzz and looked at my phone and there was a text from Lily. "You stop going to spas" it said. "Why?"

    I stopped short on the sidewalk in front of that old church on 37th Street and looked at my phone. I read the message again. How did she know what I did or didn't do? Well, massage girls talk. Why did she care? I felt old. I felt older than I had ever felt before. I felt tired and old and broken. There was only a dull brush fire of excitement in the back of my mind at hearing from Lily. I wanted to care, I really did. I wanted to be excited like a young man again, to feel the rush of emotion and physicality that Lily had evoked in me at one time. I wanted to but I didn't, and it was better that way. Better to stay hard, to leave the scar tissue in place, to hide from feelings and desires.

    I put my phone in my pocket and walked a little further. The cold air on my face and in my lungs felt good. I no longer felt the burning, aching need for Lily that I had felt before. I pictured her soft features, her long hair, her flawless ivory skin and perfect little body. I no longer felt the need to possess her. Instead, I felt simple desire. I wanted her, I wanted her mouth and her hands and every inch of her body. I wanted her flesh, I had no need for her soul.

    Again I stopped, and I pulled out my phone. "Spas are no fun anymore," I typed. "It is you that I want." I pictured her naked body on top of mine. I pictured her tight little ass rubbing against me. I was flush with pure desire for her and her alone.

    A few moments later she replied. "I want you too." I felt my cock actually beginning to rise between my legs at the mere thought of having Lily again. Standing on the sidewalk with a hard on forming in my pants, I texted her, "Are you at the spa?"

    "No," came the reply. "I quit spa. I am home. When will you be here?"

    I turned on my heel and walked in the direction of the subway. "Leaving now," I answered, before ducking into the station just as a downtown train pulled in. I made it on board and sat down and felt my hard cock between my legs. In a state of impossible arousal I sat and rode all the way to Brooklyn, my eyes and ears filled with nothing but Lily, Lily, Lily.
  16. kingotis

    kingotis

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    425
    Part 15 - Lying

    I am a liar. I always have been a liar. Sometimes I lie with no forethought and no practical purpose. I open my mouth and some lie spills out where the truth should have been. Like every liar I have my “tell” – the visual or verbal clue that manifests itself when I lie - and Lily had hers, I realized. The specificity of the accusation coming at the conclusion of an incoherent verbal onslaught, the sudden precision of her words after the explosion that preceded it signaled the start of a lie. Like a man who goes out of his way to insert needless details into cover story about where he was last night, Lily gave herself away.

    I knew she was lying, but what I didn't know for certain was why. What would she gain by pushing me away? Nothing. But as I lay in the blue light cast by my phone I retraced the conversation. The gain she realized by keeping me away was self-protection.

    The history of my hobby is littered with the corpses of men and women who have let the physical intimacy of their business relationships give way to emotional connection. Love is a conniving bastard that fucks up lives and empties bank accounts every chance it gets. Love isn't the glorious deus ex machina of storybooks, it's not sunshine and lollipops. Love makes suckers out of all of us. It makes us dependent on each other and in the wrong hands that dependence can be twisted into gnarled, hateful shapes.

    Men who fall in love with massage girls fall for only the facet of the diamond that they can see. These women wear impenetrable masks, they cover their trails with half-truths, they let you see just enough of who they are to make you want more. Massage girls who fall in love with customers fall for the same pack of lies these men have sold to their wives. The true nature of a customer, a john, a monger is an irredeemable, incurable sex addict who will not hesitate to lie or cheat to gain the confidence of their mark.

    Lily needed to push me away because things had gotten too close. I had flung myself headlong into our relationship, giving no thought to where it might lead. I followed what felt good, and every moment with Lily felt good. Lily, despite the difference in our ages, had far more self-awareness and prudence. She looked down the path and saw where things were going and she stopped to breathe.

    Her self-awareness and prudence, however, could not have been mistaken for emotional and social maturity. An adult might have sat me down to talk about the free fall that our relationship had become. Lily wasn't capable of having that conversation, so she just threw up a wall, and I walked face first into it.

    It was 2:30 in the morning but sleep was an impossibility. I pulled on some pants and slipped into my shoes and wandered out into the starless night. The lights of New York are so bright that they blot out all but the brightest celestial objects, and the night sky that hovers over the city is like a cloud of ink. I took a deep breath and I walked. I walked past barrooms filled with laughing drunks and dimly lit windows revealing some little corner of someone's life. I walked past men walking small dogs and women out for a smoke. I walked past all the creatures that inhabit my city from dusk 'til dawn and tonight I was one of them.

    I walked and I breathed and I slowly let go. Lily was something I couldn't change, she was a force of nature beyond my comprehension, and no amount of pleading would change how she felt. The rejection stung, but what hurt worse was the loss of momentum, the feeling that I had something to look forward to, the feeling that we were going somewhere together.

    I put my hands in my pockets and I walked slowly home where I lay wide awake as the dawn broke and spread the first traces of sunlight across my bed. I got up and for the first time in weeks I breathed.
    Last edited: Apr 24, 2013
  17. kingotis

    kingotis

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    425
    No, there's still more of this story to tell.

    The king meets his end further down the road...
  18. Traderdave

    Traderdave

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    5
    Is this the end of the King?
  19. kingotis

    kingotis

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    425
    Part 14 - Fear Itself

    I am a coward. I live in fear and in fact I thrive on it. Sometimes I crave fear so much I put myself in situations that give me reasons to be afraid. Then I cower like some craven little prune juice, cream of wheat, corn chowder pussy because that's what makes me happiest of all. The adrenaline rush of fear. The relief of fear's resolution. The endless agony of prolonged cowardice blocking me from confronting fears and worries that should be easily resolved. I am a coward, call me what you will.

    Hearing my phone ring at two A.M. and seeing Lily's number displayed conjured conflicting emotions. I was, of course, excited to hear from her at last. She had been stonewalling me, ignoring me for more than a week without giving even a hint of what I had done to precipitate my fall from grace. My frustration at being ignored by the object of my increasingly unhealthy obsession was second only to the intensity of my desire to see her again. Her phone call signaled relief, but it was also terrifying. It was two in the morning. Never once in my sweet, short life have I received a phone call from a woman at two A.M. that ended happily. This one was no exception.

    I pressed the button and put the phone to my ear and said, "Lily? Lily, where have you been? Where are you?"

    On the other end there was a momentary pause and then a near incomprehensible tsunami of broken English poured from the phone and I struggled to catch what I could. She would bark out English phrases and sentences and then lapse into angry bits of Chinese that flew right past me. I caught "You betray me, you terrible bad man I thought you were good man but no."

    A long series of Chinese phrases followed, finally giving way to her shouting in English, "I almost lose my job because you stupid mouth, big stupid talking man, why you can't just shut up, you want to hurt me." Again she lapsed into her native tongue. For a solid thirty seconds she cursed me in Chinese and then once again she eased back into English. "I was very good to you, I liked you and you hurt me. Today SuSu is going to fire me."

    SuSu...the mamasan of the spa where I had met Lily, where Lily still worked. Why would she fire Lily? It made no sense. "Why?" I asked her. "Why is she going to fire you?"

    "She is firing me but I talked to her and told her. She said I am taking customers from the spa, doing massage at home. I told her no and she believe me but it is trouble for me." The light went on in my head. She was speaking in the past tense, not the present. SuSu had accused Lily of seeing spa customers at home. Lily assumed she heard it from me.

    "But, no," I protested. "That has nothing to do with me. I didn't tell her, I didn't tell anyone. I promise you I would never do this to you."

    Lily was unmoved. "I don't believe. How else would she know? Who else would say this to her?"

    My panicked mind started concocting scenarios. "Maybe another girl told her because they are jealous," I guessed. Lily clicked her tongue and then her voice turned as cold as the Antarctic tundra. I had never heard her voice so hard and sharp, like the cold steel edge of a butcher's knife. It filled me with the fear I needed and yet what she said was so simple. "Maybe," she said. "Maybe Tina."

    My mind reeled - she knew I had seen Tina, she was jealous. And then I quickly tried to rewind every word I had uttered to Tina - had I said anything that she might have repeated to Lily about seeing Lily outside the Spa? I stepped through the conversation and I did not remember saying anything like that. "I don't know," I hemmed a little. "But it did not come from me, I swear to you."

    Her voice was still cold and this time it cut me through and through. It gutted me and left my bleeding corpse to the vultures and the coyotes. "I do not believe," she said. "You stay away now," she whispered, and then she hung up the phone.

    The shock and surprise coupled with the sudden revelation of a dark and unforgiving Lily where before she had been all light and kindness left me feeling like I'd been punched in the gut. I sat there staring at my phone hoping she would call back and say she had changed her mind. She didn't. I finally resigned myself to sleeplessness and got up. With a bottle of water in one hand I aimlessly poked through the channels until I finally shut the T.V. off and let the silence envelop me.

    At that precise moment it finally dawned on me - Lily was simply lying. No one had told SuSu anything, and SuSu had not threatened to fire her. Lily had invented the entire story, and I believed I knew why.
  20. kingotis

    kingotis

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    425
    Part 13 - Life

    Life kicks you in the teeth every chance it gets. The minute you get cocky, the instant you think you've got it all figured out, life comes along with jackboots on its enormous feet, a nine iron in one hand and a pillow in the other. No matter what you think, you're not going golfing and taking a nap. The nine iron cracks across your complacent skull and the pillow muffles your pitiful screams as you sink lower and lower and lower and life points its bony finger at you and laughs. Slowly, quietly, with the deliberate malice of a soulless creature, life looks at you, broken and bloody, and life laughs and laughs and laughs.

    I was riding as high as a man could ride. I had everything I wanted with Lily. She was an infinite journey, a woman who revealed new faces every time I saw her. Her physical grace was rivaled only by her emotional depth, her capacity for understanding was limitless and for a woman her age it was astonishing. The irony of a woman of this sharp witted, strong willed woman - my intellectual superior in every way, I believed then and I still believe - thrust into the role of a massage girl by accidents of birth and fate's cruel sense of humor, was never lost on me.

    Lily reveled in frivolity at times and yet she was able to comprehend concepts and abstractions that utterly escaped me. She was playful and warm by turns and cool and placid at moments that always took me by surprise. She gave of herself willingly and with generosity and yet I always knew there was more to her, more that she would surprise me with some other day and time.

    It is that last part - the parts of herself that she protected and concealed and wrapped in armor - that balled the hand of fate into a fist and guided it across my jaw. A massage girl is a masterpiece of self-preservation - a hand of steel in a velvet glove, a human creature with human vulnerabilities who gives physical intimacy while hiding emotions in impenetrable gauze and subterfuge. These women who will show you their bodies while averting their eyes, have severed sex from emotion so well that they will let you inside them physically while leaving you with only a vague whisper of who they really are. So it was, I came to learn with Lily.

    Four times I returned to see Lily at her little studio in Brooklyn, and every second of every hour is permanently etched into my brain. Each time I saw her the experience glowed like the tail lights of the cars crossing the Verrazano, like the neon in the second floor window of a massage parlor, like the city itself glows every night from dusk til dawn. There were sublime moments of physical exultation and subtle moments of emotional revelation. I felt myself growing closer and closer to her every time I saw her. My need was always acute, but I began to feel the tug of her need as well. She was eager to see me, she wanted me there, she beamed when I walked in the door and sighed when I left.

    Feeling that need or at least that desire meant that Lily's armor was imperfect, that someone had pierced the veil and made her vulnerable. Whether she could live with the discomfort of her own vulnerability was not for me to answer, but I knew it was the open question that would make all the difference between us. I accepted every intimate moment and I willfully let myself descend into Lily, even though I knew she could pull back at any moment and I would be left regretting the moment I had ever let things pass from the professional to the personal.

    A week or so after seeing her I would always call again and soon enough I would be crossing the threshhold into her little studio. After five visits like that I called her and she didn't answer - working, sleeping, having a life, whatever it was.

    I tried again a couple hours later - same thing. Usually she would call me back if I didn't reach her. I waited a day and...nothing. I called again, again no answer. I called again later that day, same result. No return call.

    Fear began to creep into my thoughts. Had something happened to her? Had she simply decided not to return my calls? I shoved it away. I was reading too deeply into it.

    I tried to put it out of my mind, but it was difficult. I thought about her every day, anticipating the next time I might see her and what pleasures it would bring. That habit was impossible to break, but at the same time I realized that calling her over and over was a bad idea, so I waited. I called once a day for the next week - not one time did she answer and not one time did she call back.

    Finally, I decided to take desperate measures and I took a walk over to the spa. A girl I had never seen before greeted me and I asked for Lily. "Not work today. Vacation," she said. "Vacation" means alot of things in a massage parlor. Sometimes it means the girl has been arrested and has to lay low for a while. Sometimes it means she has quit or been fired. Sometimes it means she is off for the day. Other times it means she's there working but you can't have her. Only once in a great while does it actually mean the girl is on an actual vacation.

    I did something dumb, and I had a massage with the new girl, who called herself Tina. It was fine, but she wasn't Lily, and Lily was what I needed. I went home and slept fitfully until my phone rang at 2 o'clock in the morning. I sat up and looked at the number. It was Lily.