Chapter 2

Of course, I kept silent about my preferences, even with my closest friends. The girl had to be an attractive slut with red nail polish and high heels; otherwise I will remain a virgin my whole life. I’m not interested in other girls. The very idea of screwing an ordinary girl made me sick. Of course, an erection might occur, and a very stiff one too. I could strip, jam it into her and release myself, but it reminded of going to the bathroom. When you put it off for a long time and finally take a dump, the feeling is great on every toilet bowl, but the ass is always dirty. You can wipe your asshole with toilet paper, but you can’t wash away the memory of desecrating yourself with a girl just because you wanted a substitute for your right hand... I would have to live with that memory.

I was mostly silent during the journey. When I spoke, I pretended to be relaxed and laughed, although the taxi driver must have sensed that tonight will be my first time. Dejan spoke mainly about the wide variety of very beautiful girls. “There is a big choice to choose from. Tall, short, big tits, big ass, white girls, Gypsy girls... If you have recently broken a mirror, I recommend a Gypsy! Hahahahahaha.”

“Are they healthy?” I asked somewhere halfway, when the possibility of STD dawned on me like a thunderbolt from the clear sky. I was afraid of HIV.

“Don’t you worry. The boss gets them checked up every two weeks. He doesn’t allow them even to catch a cold,” Dejan assured me.

“And are they forced to work there?” I continued questioning.

Now it was my anxiety speaking. Every meter closer to the brothel seemed to be growing a mouth and speaking, trying to make me change my mind.

“Oh, no. They like easy cash. Rents her putza and flies to Ibiza,” he replied. Damir and I laughed. “No one is forcing them anymore. All those girls want to do that. Easy and fast dough. Sometimes they earn a thousand euros a night.”

“No shit!” I exclaimed with surprise.

At some point, at the outskirt of a small town before Novi Sad, the cabbie turned right and climbed up a long narrow street. After a few more turns, we found ourselves in front of the brothel. It was a house with a tall stone fence and a slightly lower gray metal gate. After a few moments, the gate parted to let us through. Dejan explained that we had to wait for the camera to record us. The parking lot was huge, but it housed only one black Audi.

“There you go,” the taxi driver said, “you are all alone. That is the boss’s car.” I exited and headed cautiously towards the entrance. “That is the wrong house,” Dejan called out.

I turned around and saw that the parking lot was between two houses. I started toward the lit up one. Dejan entered first, followed by Damir and me.

A short grey-haired man was sitting behind the counter in the dark corridor. He bowed his head respectfully and wished us a good evening. We replied, passed him and entered a large room shrouded in darkness. In the middle, next to the wall, was a stage with three poles for striptease, one in the front and two in the back. House music was blasting from the speakers and blue and the red lights danced across the stage. We took our seats around one of the dozen tables scattered around. The waitress came to take our order, blueberry juice for me, beer for Damir and coffee for Dejan.

The girls started coming onto the stage. My smile froze on my face. They looked exactly the way I wanted. My sweater was tight and I leaned my arms on the table to make my biceps more noticeable. I chased the goofy grin from my face and tried to look serious since I remembered that all this should be normal for me if I want to leave the impression of an experienced fucker. Some girls were in thongs and small bras, others in short skirts or skimpy shorts and T-shirts.

Just as Dejan had said, there were all kinds of girls. Before I picked my favorite, a fat Gypsy girl approached me, smiled and asked, “May I?”

I mumbled that I will wait a little more.

“I didn’t catch that,” she said.

“I’ll wait a little more,” I repeated intelligibly and she left us alone.

Among the dozen girls on stage, I saw her. She caught my eye because of the large dragon tattoo running spirally over her hip and back. That short, slender brunette with a pale complexion was wearing knee-length boots, with high heels ‒ of course, a texas shorts so skimpy it could be confused for knickers and a green T-shirt resembling a bra. She was deftly twerking her perky butt and the cheeks were vibrating and swaying sweetly. Her nails were painted red and I concluded that she must have beautiful and groomed feet.

At the time, I still didn’t know how to tell a girl that I wanted to put her foot in my mouth. I didn’t even know if I should go to her or wait. But she felt my eyes on her and, followed by a strong blonde colleague, approached our table. The girls asked could they join us.

“Yes,” I muttered.

She offered me her hand and smiled. “I am Christina.”

“Nikola.”

The blonde girl introduced herself to the taxi driver and Damir. Then she sat in my pal’s lap and started rubbing his dick. Over his jeans, of course. Christina sat in my lap. I felt a mild erection. I put my hand around her waist and slowly moved my fingers toward her ass. I didn’t want to be a brute and squeeze her butt right away. I will proceed gradually.

The waitress returned with our order and asked the girls do they want a drink. “What are you having?” I prompted them.

They ordered a sour cherry and blueberry juice. I don’t remember my conversation with Christina. The girl’s juices arrived. She took a tiny sip and said that we could go.

“What do you want?” she asked me. I looked at her, puzzled, until she clarified that she wanted to know how much time am I willing to pay for.

“Half an hour,” I replied and offered her the money.

She told me to follow her. I found myself in that entrance hall where the grey-haired man was still sitting behind the counter. Christina walked through the door behind him. She returned quickly and said that we should climb the stairs that I hadn’t noticed before. They were on the left side of the entrance and covered with a red carpet.

The floor was reduced to a long corridor full of doors ‒ rooms where the prostitutes did their job. Our room was somewhere in the middle. She asked me to take my shoes off. I left my Air Max sneakers beside the mat where she was maintaining her balance while taking off her boots. At one point, she grabbed my shoulder for support. The moment of truth was nearing.

But when she finally took off her boots, that moment was postponed once again. She was wearing green socks with purple flowers. Christina entered the room without taking them off. And why should she do that? With such an ass and legs, nobody would dream of kissing and licking her feet or rubbing his dick against them.

I will tell her. But how? We were in the room for a few minutes now. I was standing while she was sitting on the bed and watching me.

“You’ll have to undress if we are to do anything,” Christina pointed out.

“Well, we surely won’t do it dressed,” I replied with a laugh.

I must have looked like a fool since I wanted to strip as soon as we entered, but didn’t do it because immediate jumping out of clothes struck me as immature. Boorish, to be more precise. I undressed.

“Lie down and relax,” Christina said.

How can I tell her to take off her socks?

She started kissing me. First my face, then body and finally around the dick. I felt a mild erection, but then it froze. In vain, she sucked my balls, licked my dick, groaned, twisted and squirmed. My cock was laying like slaughtered on my shaved groin and the prickly area was unpleasant to the touch. I jerked off in the hope of getting a hard-on. I told her to get on all fours and raise her ass. I licked her butt and wanked.

My dick managed to harden just enough for penetration. I rolled on a condom, which immediately softened my poor erection for at least twenty percent. However, with Christina’s help, I managed to push into her. I moved a few times and then pulled out since my dick softened so much that it threatened to slip out.

I lay down again, and she resumed kissing and licking. Christina rolled a new condom on my cock and went down on me. She blew me in vain. It must have been frustrating to tongue-chase that tiny invertebrate snake that was refusing to harden. It was a Sisyphean task. She even treated me ten minutes, but to no avail.

“And I thought that you were going to nail me,” she muttered.

“I didn’t hear you,” I said.

“Oh, nothing.”

“Just one more thing,” I started seriously, forcing myself to grin. “Not a word about this to my friend.”

She laughed and said that I shouldn’t worry. We left her room and parted at the foot of the stairs. I returned to the room with the stage.

Damir and the taxi driver greeted me with wide smiles. I was desperate because I didn’t fuck, but managed to fake an exalted grin.

“I can see by your smile that it was wild,” Damir said.

“It was great,” I confirmed. “She really is skilled.”

“Yes, yes,” Dejan joined in. “She surely looks fiery.”

As soon as I sat down, the waitress brought the bill. Four juices, one beer and one coffee: sixty euros! SIXTY! Ten euros per drink. When I settled the bill, only twenty euros were left in my wallet.

On the drive back, I tried to be talkative.

Damir and I got out in the center and walked to McDonald’s, where I treated him to three hamburgers, one big mac and a milkshake. I don’t remember what I ate, but I do remember how much I regretted all that whacking the whole day. I was determined to go to the brothel fully rested next time.