Porn Again, A Novel-Part Fifteen

CONTINUED FROM PART FOURTEEN...

“This little clit stimulator is called the Form 2,” Stacy said. “It’s from a company called JimmyJane and their stuff is awesome. I got a few boxes of these a month ago and this is already a part of my second shipment. Now it’s got two speeds and it’s waterproof. Completely rechargeable and-“

Stacy noticed that something in Candy’s demeanor suggested she wasn’t the slightest bit interested in sex toys these days.

“Is everything alright? Still dealing with Happy?”

She didn’t respond, staring off into space.

“Well has he at least tried to talk to you at all? Has he returned any of your phone calls? I can understand him being mad but this is getting ridiculous.”

Candy struggled to find the words. Somewhere between feeling both angry and guilty, she was beginning to get a small sampling of what it must have felt like to be in Happy’s shoes. Was the sex worth it? What was to come next, and where did Stacy fit into all this?

“When was the last time you saw Marcus?”

“About a few days ago. He’s probably out somewhere in Miami with Rob. By the way, that reminds me. Mardi Gras is coming up in a few months and there’s this big swingers convention happening. Not sure if you’re into that sort of thing but Rob and I are thinking of going.

“Stacy, how long have you and Marcus been seeing each other?”

It was much better to just get it right out in the open while she had the nerve. Regardless of how it may have looked, she needed to know.

“He told you didn’t he?”

She could sense that this wasn’t a game. Candy needed answers.

“Rob and I have an understanding. Let’s put it that way. They’ve been friends since college and you know Rob is into all kinds of kinky shit. At first, I thought he was out of his mind when he brought it up. I figured there was no way something like that could work. Still…a girl can only resist for so long.”

Candy didn’t respond. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that if Happy were to ever find out about this, he’d consider it a sick twist of karma. At this point, it wasn’t like anyone could blame him.

“Oh come on, don’t get all moral majority with me. We’re all adults here. Granted, your situation is a bit more drastic than mine. Rob and I are fine with everything that’s going on. As for you and Hap…well I’m sorry about that.”

“Yeah, well…it’s a bit more drastic than you might think.”

***

“Thanks for everything,” the glowing customer said to Happy.

Another day, another dollar…and oh what a pretty dollar it was. Mounds of transactions for the day over anywhere between $200-300 dollars were becoming standard. Sales for the store were growing steadily, and Happy was making quite the name for himself in the neighborhood. It was quickly becoming both interesting and humorous how working in a sex store could clue one in on all the sordid inner workings of relationships. In a matter of months, he’d grown accustomed to hearing virtually every kinky sex story or relationship scenario there was.

In the modern, everyday world, they were a collection of preachers, priests, cops, doctors, lawyers, tax attorneys, soccer moms, and working dads. Yet behind closed doors, when no one was looking, he knew all of their dirty secrets. Quite funny it was whenever he was out on the town having dinner or drinks and he’d bump into some mother or father with their family. They’d make eye contact and quickly look away. No words would be spoken, no long extended glances either. It was just understood that he knew them on a deeper level, and they knew it as well. Still, with everything that was going well, there was the downside. Between the situation with Danielle and now Blake, Happy was going from one extreme to the other. Blake had been out on sick leave due to the attack and no one had heard from him.

“Can I ask you a question?” the young woman asked as Happy handed over her bags.

“Shoot.”

“Is it weird that my mom and I were in here shopping for sex toys?”

He thought about it long and hard. “Well you know what they say: the family that cums together stays together.”

Happy’s cell buzzed. This was a call he’d been rejecting long enough.

“It’s Candy. We need to talk at some point. Happy I’m pregnant.”

***

Happy I’m pregnant…

After several beers and a few shots of Fireball Whiskey later, the poor man was barely making his way through the stifling night humidity perfuming the streets of the Quarter. Neon lights blurred into traffic lights that served no purpose. Endless rows of storefront signs, clubs, and bars spun around him as if he were on one archaic merry-go-round.

Happy, I’m pregnant…

Sweet oblivion. Pure, sweet, uncorrupted oblivion…that’s what she tasted like on their first night together, and he dined on her soul like a madman in the most beautiful prison in which there was no escape. Candace Rhodes was her name…’Candy’, as he liked to call her, and man did she ever taste like the sweetest candy on Earth. At least that’s what he used to think. At least that’s what he used to believe. Several times they’d tried to make the seemingly impossible happen, to no avail. Often, Happy would pray to God for some sign of hope that one day there would be another version of Candace running around the house. He loved her so much that he wanted more of her in every possible way. But that was long ago…so long ago. Delphine was right; monogamy was a farce and a sad one at best. Why aspire to some God-like flight of fancy when we were so adept, so accustomed, and so eager to deceive in that desperate quest to have our cake and eat it too? Maybe in our little ways, we all truly were suckers for lust and convenience. Love…true love had become a farcical indulgence only reserved for God. And we were all puppets dancing on strings, searching endlessly for something we no longer understood nor truly deserved.

Happy, I’m pregnant…

Who the hell did that cheating bitch think she was? The words burned through his heart like acid, leaving a gaping hole only to be refilled with the stench of guilt, embarrassment, and bitter hatred. It was a very humiliating thing to live with the idea that you may not be able to have kids; only to find out later that the woman you love was able to conceive with another man somehow. She got the chance to have her cake and eat it too, and with a bonus no less. Well, two could play that game…

“How much for an outcall?”

Happy struggled to stifle his venom for a moment as he spoke.

“Where are you located?” a female voice asked.

“I’m in the CBD. Can you be here in an hour? Great.”

When the young lady did arrive, Happy had managed to pick up the apartment a bit. Gone were the empty beer cans and trash. In their place were miniature candles and incense burning. He’d even cleaned himself up a bit.

“Nice of you to make it. Come on inside.”

The woman in question, a short brunette with moderate features and ample figure, gingerly entered the condo. This was common, as prostitutes in New Orleans had to always be cautious of first-time customers. Given that he lived in a condo in the CBD, she figured her chances of a safe night were better than most. Still, the driver waiting downstairs knew the routine. If she wasn’t back in 30-45 minutes, come on up with a loaded pistol. ‘Janet’ as she chose to refer to herself normally charged $300 for outcalls, which was leaving her home to visit a customer. In this line of work, the travel distance and issue of potential risk only elevated the price. Happy didn’t seem to mind.

“So you’re sure we’re alone here?”

“Indeed we are alone tonight. It’s just you and me, Candace.”

“Sorry, my name is Janet.”

“Not tonight it isn’t. Tonight your name is Candace.”

“Umm ok, so it’s $300.”

Happy motioned to the coffee table. “It’s all there.”

Janet…Candace leaned over, giving Happy an ample look at her round ass and plump figure. She made sure to count all the bills before stuffing them into her purse.

“So what do you want to do?”

Up until that moment, he hadn’t thought it through. “How about a blowjob?” It was the only thing he could think of.

‘Candace’ obliged, pulling a condom from her purse and placing it on him after he got his pants down.

“Tell me, who was it you left me for? Was it Laszlo or were there others in between or…aren’t you the kind that tell?”

As Humphrey Bogart continued wallowing in alcohol, wrecked with grief over the loss of his love, Happy understood completely. ‘Candace’ continued to stroke and suck on him for as long as he allowed, obedient and subservient just as she’d been paid to be. He stared at the movie playing on the screen, suddenly wishing that he too could be in Casablanca. Seems like a much better place than here…a much better place indeed. With a single tear streaming down his cheek, it was truly the loneliest he’d ever felt in his entire life.

***

When the aggravating and repetitive knock refused to let him rest on the quiet comfort of the floor, he figured shouting would scare them off.

“Go away!”

By then it was no use. That familiar clicking of heels making their way past the unlocked door could only have meant one thing.

“Morning Hap.” It was Delphine. “Have we been drinking?”

“Hey now,” he grumbled as he lifted himself off the floor. “I have not been drinking, not a drop. I’ve been…evolving.”

“Ah really? How many drinks Hap?”

“Several.” The stench of whiskey on his breath was profound.

“And how many shots?”

“Several.”

“Yeah, I can see you’re a model student of Darwin. Evolution at its finest.”

“Hey, I still say it took place in seven days.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

“No, whatever you say,” he remarked. “From here on out I am with you 100% Delphine. At first, I thought you were crazy, but now I realize you were right on the money. No more looking for love and monogamy and all that bullshit. Fuck it! From here on out I want to live life to the fullest. I want to travel and see the world. I want to eat in the best restaurants. I want to dance and drink and fuck like there’s no tomorrow. And above all else, I want to keep this heart of mine locked in a box where no one can ever find it, hard as a rock.”

Delphine studied Happy’s equilibrium…along with the fact that he wasn’t wearing any pants. He looked down at the sight of his limp penis, suddenly growing embarrassed.

“Ok, I’ll admit that I’m a grower, not a shower. Sometimes when there’s a bit of a windshield factor involved-“

"Happy, pants. Now."

***

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART SIXTEEN...