The Carnival Master

2.

Oliver knew he shouldn’t have done it. This was far too risky, but the risk gave his appetite an added edge. And when he thought about it, maybe it wasn’t any more risky than going through an escort agency again. After his last encounter there would always be the danger that word had got around. The next time he turned up he could find the police waiting. This was easier. And, unlike when he paid a whore, there was a real chance he might meet someone through his ad who reflected his passion: someone who would want him to do what he did.

A different bar, a different variation on the expected retro-cool, the same anticipation and reflection as he waited for her to arrive. Her answer had been perfect. ‘Suzi22’ had, of all the replies to his advertisement, been the only one who had sounded right. It was clear that she was genuine, and the photograph she had uploaded with her reply looked genuine too. It was a poor digital beach shot and she had been wearing a bikini, but her face had been deliberately obscured. She had a full figure: not as heavy around the hips as Oliver would have liked, but it was a face-on shot and therefore he couldn’t see her backside which could, of course, be gloriously fleshy. And there was also the fact that she had expressed very eloquently where her desires lay.

‘Hans?’ Oliver turned. She was not too tall and not as full-figured as the photograph had promised. But she had a certain sexiness about her and her backside was a decent size. Enough to get his teeth into.

‘Yes… Suzi?’

‘That’s me. Or it’s not really, just like I suppose you’re not really Hans. But let’s see how the evening goes and we can take it from there.’

Oliver smiled. She was smart too. And knew what she wanted. He just hoped that she understood, fully, what it was that he wanted.

Suzi declined Oliver’s offer of dinner.

‘Let’s just go somewhere private,’ she said and smiled a wicked crimson smile. ‘I think we both have an appetite that pasta isn’t going to satisfy.’

Oliver felt his heart pick up the pace and a stirring in his groin. ‘Let’s go to my hotel room.’

‘No,’ she said. ‘Not your hotel. My place. I feel safer there and we won’t have to worry about… well, noise.’

Oliver thought it over. He didn’t like the idea of an unknown location. His hotel had, again, been carefully selected. And he had to be very careful. He knew that, if things didn’t go his way, he would not be able to control his temper and it could get messy. He needed to know his way out of wherever he was.

‘Are you sure?’ he asked. ‘I thought a hotel room was, well, neutral ground, I suppose.’

‘Listen, Hans,’ Suzi said, still smiling but with resolve in her voice. ‘We both know what we want. We are different from others. Our needs. But I need to have my things around. For after. You know, to fight infection, that kind of thing. Trust me, Hans, I think this could be the start of a beautiful friendship. Now, are you coming or not?’

Oliver looked at her for a moment, then said decisively: ‘Okay. Let’s go…’