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Going to that house was as good as giving my consent to whatever happened. Who would be there? What would they do to me?
All sorts of violent fantasies flickered through my mind. What was it I really wanted? Did I even want to know?
I did.
At seven o'clock I pulled my car into the narrow driveway of the small house. I parked in front of the garage. I got out and headed toward the door.
The yard was not well cared for. The house looked a little rundown. The neighborhood itself was quiet. It was late summer and a little breeze rustled through some leaves.
I could still turn back. If I went through that door it would mean losing my virginity to some stranger. A stranger that some test predicted would satisfy my deepest sexual desires.
I felt absurd. Yet, also, I was beginning to feel excited. I mean wouldn't you have been at least a little excited?
I got to the door. I stood there for several long seconds. My hand must have been shaking.
What would this guy look like? Would he be old or young? Would he be handsome? What did I really want? Did I even know myself?
I reached out and touched the doorbell. Ding dong.
The door opened a crack. Jesus. Behind the crack was a tall man with an incredibly big, muscular chest. He wore jeans and a tank top. He was barefoot.
He was as black as the night. His skin was the color of dark chocolate.
He was handsome in a rugged way, but his face frightened me all the same. He didn't look like someone you would ever want to mess with.
I couldn't even tell his age. He could have been anywhere between thirty and forty.
Shit!
I'm not racist. The idea of treating someone different because of their skin color appalled me.
But I didn't have any experience among blacks. I'm mean, I'd never even really talked with someone who was black.
And so just seeing him there, at the door, it frightened me. I felt guilty about it, but it was the truth. I was immediately scared.
My legs were even shaking. I thought, shit, this can't be my secret
fantasy. I must be at the wrong door.
"Excuse me," I said in my best innocent girl scout voice. "Is this 3527 Ember Drive?"
"What the fuck is it to you?" He asked in a voice as deep as the sea. "If you're some whore, then you got the wrong house. I don't pay for pussy. Especially when it shows up on my doorstep looking for trouble. Go on white girl, get your ass out of here, and tell whoever sent you to fuck off."
I don't know what got into me, but the idea of him calling me a whore really bothered me.
"Excuse me?" I said. "I'm not some whore!"
He opened the door a little wider. He looked me up and down. He whistled.
"The agency sent me," I said.
I tried to look him in the eyes. But it was hard. It felt like he could see right through me. He had deep, dark, soulful eyes.
"Agency? Like I said, I didn't order no professional. Call yourself what you want. I don't pay for pussy. Now go on, get lost."
"This is 3527 Ember Drive, isn't it?" I asked.
I held the card in my hand. I showed it to him. I glanced at his face again.
