Chapter 62

Merlyn loved San Francisco. She was surprised by how bright and fresh the city was. The way the streets sloped up to the clear blue sky, the cable cars with their quaint clanging bells, the pastel colours of the houses, the aromas, colours and sounds of the boardwalk and the oceanfront. She was also surprised by how many Asians and people of mixed origin there were until Steven told her that Frisco was only 55% white. No wonder it was one of America's most liberal-minded cities. It had to be, with such a varied racial mix.

Steven's work needed him to fly to LA for three days. She didn't mind. There was so much new to see. One night, she entered a lively bar near the Bay Bridge because it looked like it had a decent, mixed crowd. Only after she had been propositioned by three different women did it dawn on her that it was a lesbian-gay joint! She left quickly, catching a cab back to the hotel, where she exploded with laughter at her own naivete.

Steven returned from LA half a day earlier than expected.

After an excellent yet light lunch in an Italian bistro, they returned to the hotel, both visibly hungry for one another.

"A drink?" He headed for the bar.

"Whatever you're having."

He brought her a light, white wine that caressed her palette. He put on some music, jazz.

"If you'd like something more modern, I could change it." He sounded apologetic. "I'm sort of old-fashioned in my music tastes."

"No, please keep it on. I love Chet Baker."

He looked pleased. "That's one of his best, I think. The way he sings and plays the jazz trumpet are amazing."

She nodded. "I love 'She was too good to me'. The original version, I mean. Before the 1950's when he started his heroin habit and had to keep dodging the police in America and Europe, playing anywhere and anything."

He looked impressed now. "That's coming up. You know, I would never have figured you for a jazz lover."

She got up and went over to him. They close-danced for a few minutes, enjoying the gentle music, the wafting waves of bluesy bebop, and each other's presence.

She held the clinch even after the song ended. "Steven, that book I found on your bedside back in the hotel in Bombay? The Perfumed Garden?"

"Yes?"

"I want to know more."

He looked at her.

"That's serious stuff, Merlyn. You don't just take it up like stamp collecting and drop it anytime. You're either In or Out, for life."

"Well." She traced a line across the patch of bare chest visible at the mouth of his shirt. "What if I want to check it out first, see what's involved. I've heard about these kind of things before, but it's the first time I've ever really found someone who's involved in it." She looked up at him. "You are involved in it, aren't you?"

He nodded, caressing her bare back in wide, circling movements. "I'm a member."

"Can't I sit in on one of your 'sessions' or whatever you call it? I'd like to see what really goes on in one of these places. Is it sort of like an orgy, a free-for-all?"

He smiled. "You've seen Eyes Wide Shut too many times. No. It's not an orgy or a free-for-all. There are very definite rules. But." He breathed. "Once you're a full member, then it goes far beyond orgies and free-for-alls."

"So can I? Just watch?"

He thought about it for a moment. "All right. I think I can arrange that. There's a chapter meeting in San Francisco this week. I'll try to take you there. There's a person you might find very interesting to meet."

"Who's that?"

"He's a man named Myanmar. An Indian in fact. And I'm sure he'll be very interested in meeting you too. And, now..."

"Yes?"

"If you're going to attend a real swinger's party, maybe you should practise a bit first?"

He began moving her toward the large double bed.

She unzipped and dropped her gown in one fluid motion.

"You read my thoughts."

He undressed just as efficiently and quickly. He smiled as he came to her, his large erection swinging from side to side.

"Actually, I read your body language."