Chapter 4

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We work in shifts at The Cathouse. They’re twelve hour shifts and we’re free to come and go at will. The more established kitties like Neveah, Scarlett and me have the privilege of working by appointment only if we want. I own a house in South Lake Tahoe, California that I spend time at when I’ve had my fill of being at the brothel. In the last five years I’ve made more money than I ever would have if I had stayed back in Louisiana.

I guess you could say Pam is my pimp, but I don’t see her that way at all. In the old days the girls used to pay the house if business was lost, but that’s not how things work at the Cathouse. Pam doesn’t force anyone to do anything they don’t want to do. We don’t get slapped around by her, nor are we a bunch of junkies that sell ourselves to feed our addictions. In fact, Pam fires girls that have drug problems. She runs a legit operation and that means she doesn’t want drug dealers on the premises or narcotics in the house.

There’s a bar where customers can get drinks and she also runs a restaurant about a half mile away from the Cathouse grounds that delivers twenty-four hours a day upon request. The grounds are enormous, but they would have to be to accommodate all of the girls living here at once. We have our own rooms, but then we have special theme rooms available, as well as rooms for extended parties. I always know business is booming when all of those rooms are in use and I have no choice but to keep a party in my room.

I’m not Pam’s property by working here, and I can’t say it wouldn’t be the same if I got hooked up with a pimp like Hadley did. I came out here after my Gran found out I was stripping at Hooligan’s, a club just outside my very conservative hometown. Gran flipped her lid and kicked me out when I refused to quit my job. My cousin Hadley and I had always been close so I called her to see if I could crash with her for a while.

She agreed and gave me the Cathouse’s address without telling me she’d started working as a hooker. I got into this as an act of defiance. I was pissed off at Gran for trying to dictate my life to me, even though I was twenty-one years old and not breaking any laws. She got on her moral high horse with me about it and I called her on her bullshit.

Maybe my job isn’t the most respectable one out there, morally speaking, but I don’t bring my customers in at gunpoint. No one forces them to come to a brothel. If a married guy wants to cheat on his wife, he’s going to do it whether if it’s with a prostitute or some random woman. I’m not responsible for his decisions.

Like Eric, for instance. As if the ring didn’t give it away, he told me the night I met him that he was married. He’s been married almost twenty-three years and he’d never had a good blowjob before he met me. Sadly, that’s not uncommon. A lot of married guys come in because they have a fantasy their wives just won’t fulfill. Some guys want to try anal, or they want a threesome, or (and this is a big one) they don’t want their wives to think they’re gay, but they’re curious about what it feels like to get fucked in the ass. I’ve donned many a strap-on to fuck a guy before.

Then there are the guys that are lonely and just want a little intimacy or an ego boost. They come in, get pampered and go on their merry way. We see all kinds of people with all kinds of reasons for coming in. It’s not my place to judge them.

We get a lot of couples, too. I love that, especially if I know I’m helping a relationship. It’s not for everyone, so I don’t recommend it as your first option for dealing with marital problems, but it can help. If I can teach a wife how to give better head, or a husband how to find a g-spot, I’m doing that marriage a great service, in my opinion. Sex isn’t the answer to every marital problem, but I’m convinced that if the sex is great, couples are more likely to put in the effort to fix the other things.

I’ve thought about suggesting to Eric that he bring his wife sometime. Maybe if she knew better how to please him sexually, some of the other problems in their marriage would work themselves out. Eric is only forty, but the wisdom in his eyes is of someone much older. I feel sympathy for him, really. Maybe I shouldn’t because he’s cheating on his wife, but there are two sides to every story. He’s not doing this to be hurtful to her, and I believe him when he says I’m the only woman he’s had sex with besides his wife.

The first time we fucked I told him I wanted it from behind, and he got nervous. He’d never done doggie before. Hell, just getting him to fuck me hard was a new thing for him. He’s very well endowed so I understand why extended sessions of hard fucking would be painful for his wife, but to be married for that long without ever being bent over and pounded? I couldn’t imagine it.

I don’t mind when Eric pulls my hair, slaps my ass or grabs my throat. I think those things are sexy, and because of me, he’s learned a lot about himself. He’s been able to experiment and find out what he likes and what he doesn’t. The things I won’t do, I can always find a girl that will. We have yet to do the threesome thing, but I know he wants to. I know he’s seen me dancing in the parlor with Jessica before and I know he was turned on by it.

When we went back to my room afterward, he asked me if I was turned on by it. I put his hand down my panties so he could feel how wet I was. That turned him on even more, and he ended up having me ride him reverse cowgirl with his hands on my tits the whole time. It was hot.

But my life isn’t all about the Cathouse. I’m taking online courses to finish my degree in human development and family services. I think my experiences in the past might be able to help me connect to other kids that feel like they have nowhere else to go. I get judged all the time by people when I tell them I work at the Cathouse. With women, mostly. They assume prostitution is contagious, and I might turn their daughters into hookers in training, but that’s not my goal at all.

I’m not a recruiter. I don’t know that I would even recommend this line of work to everyone. It takes a certain kind of person to not just do it, but be good at it. Just showing up and being pretty isn’t enough here. There’s an element of sales that goes into it and you have to know what you’re worth without coming off as being superior or arrogant. It’s a balancing act, and if you’re not good at reading people, you’re going to fail.

I’ve seen a lot of girls come out here thinking they were going to get rich quick and it can be a very profitable job, but it takes time for that to happen. New girls are a dime a dozen. They think they’re going to come in and reinvent the wheel, and find out really quick that even though they might have been hot shit in their podunk hometown, they’re not swimming with guppies anymore. This is a shark tank, and if you aren’t careful and smart, you’ll get eaten alive.

Some of them think this is a big sorority but it’s not. This is a business. This business can be dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing. I like making new friends but I like making money more. The new girls sometimes think this is a big slumber party and we’re just here to play with each others hair and share clothes. Those girls never last very long. They realize this is not a game and if they don’t have game they aren’t going to make it.

After my long weekend with Eric I need a break, so I decide to take a day off and go back to my house in South Lake Tahoe. I take my laptop with me so I can get some of my email correspondence done. The drive home takes roughly an hour and by the time I pull into my garage I’m happy I decided to take the day. I haven’t been home in a little over a month so the place needs airing out. When I do actually get a chance to come home for a little while I only shop for what I need. That way I don’t have to worry about my refrigerator stinking to high heaven when I get back.

The house could use a good dusting, but I’ll get to that later. Instead I head upstairs to my bedroom and climb into bed. I miss this bed. I don’t get to spend as much time here as I’d like. Maybe someday when I give up working at the Cathouse I’ll make this my permanent home. I like living here; I like the area. The only thing I know for sure is that I’m not going back to Louisiana.

I wish things could be different with my Gran, but I don’t know if that’s ever going to happen. For someone with Christian values who believes in forgiveness, Gran sure hasn’t forgiven me. More importantly, I’m not sure I have forgiven her. I’m not a child and I can make my own decisions. Her blessing is important to me, but I don’t need it in order to make my choices. I’m happy with my life and the way that it’s going. But I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t be happier if Gran was still a part of my life.

It doesn’t take long for me to fall asleep and when I wake up I reach for my laptop and get it started. While it boots up I go to the bathroom and take care of business. When I get back to bed my laptop is ready to go so I log into my email. I have fifty-seven new messages since Friday, almost all from clients hoping to book appointments. I scan for email from regular clients to respond to them first. At the very top of the list is a letter from Eric, thanking me for the weekend we spent together.

Eric always sends me a thank you note after our weekends, and his messages always make me smile. I probably shouldn’t think about his wife too much, but I often wonder if she knows how lucky she really is. I save this message just like I have all of the others, and then move on to the next one. I have a message from a regular client named Amelia that mostly comes in for two girl parties. This time when we meet she’s hoping I can find a girl that would be willing to dominate her. Immediately the first girl I think of is Thalia. I get my cell phone and send a text message to Thalia to see what days she’s free. After I get a response from her I email Amelia back.

It’s interesting to me how many guys think they’re being kinky when they send me emails; like they’re the first guy to ask if he can fuck me in the ass, or have a threesome with 2 girls. There’s not much that hasn’t happened at the Cathouse.

A few minutes later I get a response from Thalia, letting me know that she’s free on Thursday. After checking my calendar I send a response to Amelia letting her know that Thursday would be the best day. Now all I can do is wait and see if that day works for her. With that out of the way, I move on to the next email.

EPOV

I walk in the door and the house is empty. The kids are at school and Lord knows where Aude is. We basically talk to raise the kids lately; we don’t make time for each other anymore. I call her as I’m putting my clothes away and she doesn’t answer so I leave her a voicemail letting her know I’m home. I check the clock and see Alyssa is getting out of school soon so I decide to pick her up. I call my wife again to tell her I’ll get Alyssa. Chris is in high school now so they’re at different schools. Surprisingly she answers this time.

“You’re home,” she answers. No hello, no how was your trip.

“Yeah, got home about an hour ago. I was calling to let you know I’ll get Alyssa,” I tell her.

“Fine. Anything else?” she sounds annoyed with me.

“Yeah, Alyssa said Chris called you a name. What did he call you and what is he allowed to do and not do?” Co-parenting at its finest. This is all stuff she should’ve told me.

“He called me a stupid b,” she says without cussing. “And he’s not allowed to use the internet unless it’s for homework, no video games, no TV. He should be home right after school.”

“Alright, maybe I’ll pick him up on my way with Alyssa,” I say, again not knowing what she’s doing and why she can’t pick him up. She works mornings so she can pick the kids up. Shit, I make enough money to support her and then some.

“Thank you,” she says. “I won’t be home in time for supper tonight. I planned to let Ryan order the kids pizza.”

“Okay… where will you be?” I question. “I just got home and would like to have as much of the family together for dinner as possible. Ryan said he’d be home tonight when I talked to him before I left.”

“I told Arlene I would help with inventory.”

“Alright,” I sigh. “I’ll see you later.” I hang up without saying bye. I’m irritated she’s not home. I know I just spent the weekend with someone else, but I like having her home for dinner with the kids.

I make sure I have her locket in my pocket and hop into my Escalade to drive to the school. It’s not far from the house and she’s responsible enough to walk, but I don’t trust anyone with her. I’ve seen too many investigation shows and I know what’s up. Fucking pedophiles everywhere.

I park on the street right outside of her school and get out of the car to lean against the hood while I wait. I get a few looks from some of the mothers, but pay them no mind. I know I’m a handsome man and I get plenty of looks while I’m out. I’m not looking at them though. I’m married and I have a mistress… that sounds terrible, but I can only handle so many women in my life.

I hear the bell ring and kids start funneling out. A few minutes go by and I spot my princess… with a… a boy? What the fuck is she doing? I want to race across the lawn and rip his little baby balls off for being that close to my little girl. I know my face shows every ounce of anger and hatred for the kid when Alyssa sees me. Her expression goes blank – she normally smiles when she sees me – and she looks over at the… fucker… to say something to him and he turns to run the other way without looking in my direction.

“Who was that?” I ask when she’s in hearing distance. She rolls her eyes and completes her trek to me before she answers.

“He’s my friend,” she says as she hugs me. She holds tight to my waist and I lean down to kiss the top of her head.

“Your friend didn’t want to meet your dad?” I probe before I open the car door to let her in.

“Not when you look so crazy,” she says.

“I do not look crazy, just… curious,” I smile now that I’ve calmed down a bit.

“Daddy, your face was redder than your tie,” Alyssa informs me. “You’re scary when you look like that.”

“Lyss, you know I’m a teddy bear. Next time bring him by so I can meet him.” And give him the third degree, I add to myself.

“And scare him half to death,” she mutters.

“Do I have a reason to scare him?” I ask, arching an eyebrow as I pull away from the curb.

“Yeah, you’re crazy,” my princess sasses me.

“Pssh, whatever,” I mock her little valley girl voice, “I got you something.”

“You did? What is it?” her face lights up.

Instead of answering her I pull the box out of my pocket and hand it to her. She looks skeptical before she opens it, but when she does her eyes go wide and the smile that spreads across her face melts my heart.

“You like?” I ask.

“Daddy, it’s so pretty. Is it a locket?”

“It is,” I nod, “I know you like… boys now, but you should know there will be a lot of boys in your life. I need you to remember that I love you unconditionally and of all those boys, I’ll be the only one that will never break your heart. I’ll be around for you no matter what and I’ll always have your back.”

“I love you too, Daddy,” my princess says, and then takes off her seat belt to hug me hard around my neck. “You’re the best Daddy in the whole world.”

“And you’re the best princess; you know you’re my favorite girl, right?” I remind her and I feel her nod against my neck. “Good, now put your seat belt back on.”

“Yes, sir,” she says respectfully. Alyssa sits down and stashes her present in her backpack before putting her seat belt back on.

She chatters on and on about her day, leaving out the new boy she likes, as I drive to the high school. The twins are driving and I bought them a used car to share so I don’t have to worry about picking them up. I notice Christian looking a little emo as he’s walking toward the house. I pull over a few feet in front of him and Alyssa pokes her head out of the front window to tell him to hop in.

“Hey, kid,” I say once he’s in the back with his seat belt on. He instantly looks out the window without looking at me. He grunts, but nothing else. Shithead. “Why’d you call your mom a bitch?”

“You’ve met her,” he says.

Indeed I have.

“That wasn’t my question. What caused you to call her names?”

“She was being a bitch so I called her one. End of story.”

“Did you stop to think about how you’re treating people, Chris? Given your attitude right now, I can only assume you provoked something.” It’s a safe bet Alyssa will give me all the gory details while Christian broods. Puberty and teenage hormones suck.

“What do you care? You’re like never home anyway,” Chris says. That hurts.

“I care because I love you and I’m never home so I can pay for your high maintenance lifestyle. Your iPod and cell phone didn’t pay for themselves,” I tell him, my voice getting a little deeper.

“Whatever.”

I roll my eyes and then look at Alyssa for all the answers. I know when he’s a lost cause and if he follows Ry’s example I have three more years of this shit.

She starts to give me the play by play. In Christian’s defense he was right to call Aude a stupid bitch, but I can’t tell him that. We get home and Chris runs straight to his room, locking himself in for the night. We may see him once the pizza shows up; it may be after everyone goes to bed. Who knows.

Alyssa doesn’t have soccer practice on Mondays so I remind her she has plenty of homework. The twins get home and I let Mark know I’ve already ordered the pizza so he doesn’t eat everything in the fridge. Chris made a good point when he said I’m never home so I make it a point to sit in the kitchen with my kids. I help them with homework and I even take Chris three slices of pizza which he actually thanks me for. That’s promising.

Since Ryan has the night off he comes home instead of being with his girlfriend which is nice. I’ve met her and I don’t really like her so he doesn’t bring her around me. She’s a snotty little gold digger that makes me sick to my stomach.

“Daddy,” Alyssa’s voice cuts into my thoughts. “Can you put my locket on me please?”

“Of course, princess.”

“I put a picture in it,” she tells me and hands it to me already open. It’s a picture of us together from one of her soccer matches a few weeks ago. I have to hold back the tears as I close it and have her turn around for me.

I spin her around to face me and she looks adorable so I grab my phone and snap a picture of her from her chest up so I can see the locket. My first thought is to send it to Dixie so she can see what she picked out for her.

It’s nearing bedtime so I take Alyssa up to bed. I know she’s past bedtime stories, but I still take her to bed every night that I’m home. I’m exhausted so I tell the boys goodnight and go to bed. I’m in bed watching TV when I remember I wanted to email Dixie the picture of Alyssa. I grab my Blackberry from the nightstand and compose an email to her. I’d emailed her earlier to thank her again for our amazing weekend and I don’t know if it’s too much to email her again so soon, but I do it anyway. I leave a note telling her this is my princess with her new locket, which she adores, and I thank her again for her help.

I make sure my phone is locked, put it back on the charger and lie down in bed. I leave the TV on low in the background as I doze off. The last thing I remember is Aude coming into the room and making way too much noise as she showers before bed. Thankfully I’m out before she actually comes to bed.

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