Chapter 14: Bedtime

Dexter stared up at the ceiling of the Nevada bordello, wondering how many times the woman beside him had stared at it in boredom, while some pudgy old prick got his rocks off in her. It was sad to admit that he was the latest of the pudgy old pricks. He was sure that he wouldn’t be the last.

“Do you like your job?” Dexter asked.

“Sure,” she answered without much enthusiasm.

Her work name was Bambi and she was a natural brunette. The blond highlights in her hair had come straight out of a bottle. She had soft brown eyes. She wasn’t particularly voluptuous, nor was she anorexic. She was firm without being a hard body. She was the girl next door. In a way, she reminded him of Amber.

Dexter didn’t bother to look at her. “Really?”

“Yes. I do enjoy it,” Bambi said getting a little more energy into her claim.

“I don’t see how,” Dexter said.

Bambi rolled over to her side and supported her upper body off the bed with her elbow. Her silicon breasts didn’t droop under the influence of gravity.

She said, “I like men.”

“You do? Why?” Dexter asked surprised by her answer.

Considering her line of work, he figured that she had to be tired of men. He often wondered if women in her occupation had a low opinion of men. God knows that he would if he were in her place.

“They’re strong, and at the same time they’re weak,” she answered. “I’m fascinated at how their strengths and weaknesses fit together. Women are strong only because they use their weakness for strength. For men, their weaknesses sap their strength.”

“I don’t get it,” Dexter said glancing over at her.

Bambi sighed. She said, “A man can go out and fight an army for an ideal. You know ... country, family, or even a company. There’s a strength of character in that, that I find attractive.”

“A woman will fight for her children,” Dexter said.

“That’s not an ideal that she’s fighting for. Believe me, I know. It’s about keeping what she has,” Bambi said.

“Isn’t that what a man does?” Dexter asked.

“A man will fight in the hope of improving things,” Bambi said. “One of my professors once said that if women were in charge of the world, we’d still be living in caves. They wouldn’t have ever risked what they had, for the uncertainty of something new.”

Dexter sighed. “I don’t know about that.”

Bambi said, “My daddy used to say that a man marries a woman hoping that she won’t change while a woman marries a man hoping that he will change. My mom used to say that a man wants to change the world, while a woman wants it to stay the same. I think they are both right, even though it seems contradictory.”

Dexter’s first reaction was to laugh, but he bit down on it. The bit about woman wanting men to change reminded him there was a second part to that story.

He said, “Men are disappointed when their wives change, and women are disappointed that their husbands don’t change.”

“Truer words were never spoken,” Bambi said.

She sighed and then said, “I think it’s even worse when a man does change. I think the women around him lose respect for him. It’s almost like the women ask, ‘Aren’t you man enough to remain true to yourself?’ That’s an unfair question because women have a secret weapon. Men are weak, and the women can use that against them.”

“What weapon?” Dexter asked.

“Men are so fragile,” Bambi said. She reached over and touched his groin. “It’s so easy to destroy a man. One laugh at his manhood, and you can totally destroy him.”

“Everyone knows that,” Dexter said.

He looked down, feeling a twinge of worry that she’d say something negative. It was an instinctual reaction to the topic of discussion.

“Laughing at a man’s equipment will either infuriate him or emasculate him. In this business, I’ve seen the results of both. The man who comes in here and batters at my pussy using himself as a weapon has been hurt by a woman. I’ve had men come in who couldn’t get it up, just because of what a woman has said to him.”

“Couldn’t get it up?” Dexter asked.

“It’s true,” Bambi said. “I find dealing with that situation really difficult, particularly when he’s small down there. You know that he’s heard a thousand times that size doesn’t matter, but he knows that’s a lie. Size does matter, and it matters most to the man who is small.”

“How about to women?” Dexter asked.

“There are size queens, but they aren’t really all that common. The physical is important to women, but it takes a distant second to the emotional. I can tell a guy who’s been damaged that all day, and he won’t hear it,” Bambi said quietly. “It’s sad because the right woman could change it.”

“Are you the right woman?” Dexter asked.

Bambi laughed and said, “I wish. A guy like that isn’t coming to me to heal. He’s hoping that he won’t be shamed even further, but he is. He’s paying for sex.”

“Like me,” Dexter said bitterly.

Bambi said, “Don’t be so negative. You’re paying for it for a different reason. I think you’re paying for it for the right reason.”

“What is that?” Dexter asked.

“You’re horny.”

Bambi looked over at Dexter and saw the expression on his face.

She laughed and said, “It’s the right reason. I know you feel guilty and a little ashamed, but you shouldn’t.”

“Why do you say that I shouldn’t feel guilty?” Dexter asked.

“For you, there are two reasons to have sex. The main one is to express your love. The secondary one is to get rid of your horniness. You’d feel guilty as hell if you were to use some woman who was looking for love, just to get your rocks off.”

“I would feel guilty, just using a woman,” Dexter said.

Part of his guilt in coming to a bordello and paying for sex was the fear that he was continuing the degradation of a woman.

“Coming to me makes it a transaction. Our expectations are explicit. You expect sex. I expect money. It’s honest.”