St. Pauli Girl
"Oh there's not much to tell. We've been married for fifteen years. Two kids, a boy 11 and a girl who is 8. Kevin has a roofing company. Well, actually it was my dad's until he died. Kevin worked for him and learned the ropes. My dad always wanted a son, I guess Kevin was the son he never had. Business has had it's ups and its downs. Right now things are pretty good." She paused to take another bite of her salad and then a sip of wine. "What else? Oh, I'm what we call a stay-at home mom in the states. There's not much staying at home, however."Karin leaned closer to Marcy and softly said, "that's not exactly what I meant. You were asking me about sex, let me ask you. Have you been with lot's of men? I imagine someone who looks like you has many lovers."
Marcy turned as red as Karin's leather jacket. "No, I've only been to bed with my husband. I fooled around a lot in high school but held off going all the way until Kevin and I were engaged."
This confirmed to Karin what Kevin had told her. "Do you like sex?"
"Who doesn't. When it's with someone you love it's great."
"Oh really? Well let me tell you Marcy. I don't love any of the men who rent my body but I love sex, I absolutely love sex."
"See, that's what I don't understand. That's one of the reasons I wanted to talk with someone like you. You seem so normal. And yet I imagine you must be with three or four different men ever day and . . ."
Karin interrupted her. "Try a dozen or more. Three or four would be a lousy day for me."
Marcy flushed again but this time not from personal embarrassment but from the thought a dozen men. "As I was about to say Karin, I can't imagine how a woman can separate the physical from the emotional."
"I don't think you have to. I've never been to America but I've been told that you see sex very differently there. Here it is natural. I don't think I've ever met a woman, before meeting you, who had never been with other men, I mean men other than their husbands, of course. Marcy, Sex doesn't make a woman bad or good, at least not in Europe."
Marcy was hanging on every word Karin Uttered. "Karin, you must have been married during the first year or two while you were . . . oh what would I say?"
"While I was working? That's true, I was."
"What did your husband think about it?"
Karin laughed. "It was his idea. I wasn't qualified to do other work. We needed money, I needed to help out. I had applied for several jobs and was turned down for all of them. I remember a man at one agency said, "you should find out what you do best and try to find work in that field."
"That night I told my husband what I had been told. His advice was instant."
"Karin, you're the best fuck in the world. Nobody's better. You should become a St. Pauli Girl."
"Well Marcy, everyone who lives in Hamburg knows what a St. Pauli Girl is. You may find this surprising but I wasn't offended, or if the truth be known surprised. Like I said before, we are much more open about sex here than you are in the states. He knew I wasn't a virgin when we met, far from it. I hadn't strayed during our marriage but if I had he wouldn't have divorced me or even thought about divorce. I'm told that in the states many marriages end when a spouse learns of an affair."
Marcy didn't answer but encourage Karin. "Go on."
Karin took another sip of wine. "The next day we drove to the Reeperbahn. Between certain hours, street solicitation is legal. We watched as men approached single women and frequently walked off with them. My husband approached an older lady who didn't seem to be very popular and asked if we could buy her a drink."
"Within half an hour we understood what was taking place all around us. It was this older prostitute who suggested that someone who looked like me should try working on Herbertstrasse. She gave me a telephone number. I called and talked with a man who invited me to an interview the next day. That was nearly four years ago. I have never worked any other place but number 7. There are four of us. We cover the place twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. Obviously there times when girls aren't available--certain times of the month-- and we cover for each other then too. I like to work four days, off three and five or six days off during my monthly."
Both woman were lost in their thoughts as they finished their salads. When they were on their last glass of wine, Karin thought the time was right. "You know, Marcy, you should take my place for a day or two and see what it's like for yourself."
"What! I couldn't do that." She nearly choked on the wine.
"Why not?"
"Well there are probably a thousand good reasons but here are a few. I'm married. My husband would probably kill me and I'm sure I would hate myself if I ever did anything like that." Marcy thought that would end the matter. She was wrong.
Karin actually laughed. "Cheri. Many of the women who work behind the barricade are married like I was. I don't know of a single husband that ever killed one of them. Also, I don't hate myself and I don't know anyone, who is secure and confident, who hates themselves for working and enjoying the work. Try it you might like it."
"I'm sure that Kevin would hate the idea. Even if he didn't, I don't see how that would be possible." Then Marcy remembered what Kevin had said last night that he had come to realize that anything's possible. Could this be possible. Come on Marcy, she said to herself, grow up this was a nice informative lunch let it end here and now.
Karin took to the challenge. "Oh if you were interested I think it is possible. Are you interested Marcy?"
"No, not really."
Ah ah, thought Karin, I'm making progress. "How do you know your husband would hate the idea?"
"Really, Karin. He's a man. Men get jealous. I'm sure the thought of me with other men would be very upsetting to him." The words had barely left her mouth when she realized that what she had just said was the opposite of what Kevin had been saying for months if not years. It wasn't so very long ago that he said. "Loosen up Marce. I think it's about time you cut loose." And here in Hamburg he wanted men to see her in the little dresses that he personally had purchased. The very dress she had on left very little to the imagination. If it hadn't been for the protection of her jacket about the only things that were covered were her nipples, waist, vagina and rear. However, the clingy material caressed her body in a way that was even sexier than nudity. In just two short days she had grown to like the look and feel of her new wardrobe.
Marcy wasn't sure if Karin was smiling or smirking. Karin said, "Marcy, here in Europe, men love hot women, the hotter the better. They may go home to their little haus fraus but they choose to be with women like me and they pay for the pleasure. I doubt that your Kevin is any different. I bet if the truth were known he would love for you to fuck other guys, lots and lots of other guys."
Marcy thought about what Karin had said and realized she might be right. "Okay, but what about me? I wasn't raised like that. Maybe here you are more enlightened about sex, or whatever you want to call it, but where I come from a married woman is faithful to her husband, she doesn't stray from the nest."
"Marcy you were the one that wanted this meeting. You were the one that was so curious about the life behind the barricades. It was you who wanted to know what it's like to be me. Now you have heard but you don't know. There is only one way to know. Be me for a day or two." Karin reached into her purse and pulled out a laminated card with her photo in the upper left hand corner. The card was written in German. She tossed it to Marcy. "That's your pass to experience the life on Herbertstrasse, behind the barricade. Your pass to be a St. Pauli Girl.
Marcy held the card, looked at the photo of Karin and realized that she could pass for her, at least in appearance. "What would I have to do?"
"I'm scheduled to work from six tonight to six in the morning. You would have to do what I would have to do. Are you interested?"
"Karin, this has been fun. You've been great but this is probably too much for me."
"Marcy, I think you're probably right. Being me for a day or two would be too much for you. But I'll bet that when you leave here and fly back to Atlanta and return to your nice house and your children you'll always wonder what it would have been like. And, I'll wager, you'll always wonder if you would have enjoyed it."
There was dead silence as they finished the last of the wine. The waitress cleared the table. Karin insisted on paying the bill. She was about to push her chair back and stand up when Marcy asked, "what are the men like?"
"Most are very nice. Seldom do we have trouble with those that are rough. When they come to our street they are already very horny. They just want to get laid or sucked off. Some are handsome, some are not. Some are young and some are old. Many of them are merchant sailors from Greece, Turkey really all over the world."
"Are they, oh you know, are they big?"
Karin laughed because she knew that Marcy wasn't asking about their height or weight. "They come in all sizes imaginable. I've seen teeny teeny weinies and cocks that were a foot long and thicker than my wrist."
"Like I told you Karin, I'm not experienced except with Kevin. I don't think I could handle . . ." "Cheri, pussies are like socks, one size fits all. That's nothing to worry about. However, you may be happily surprised if you're lucky enough to get one that's extra, extra large and the man knows what to do with it." Karin paused for effect before continuing. "I've never had a shift where I didn't encounter an extra large."
Marcy realized that they were talking as if they had somehow, in the last few minutes, reached an agreement. "So, how would this work? I'm not saying that I'll do it mind you, but if I did how would it work?"
"It's after two now. As I explained, I'm scheduled at six. If you want to do this then you have to agree now to take my place. I'll give you my card, you won't have any problem with that. I'll give you the street number of my place and explain how to enter from the alley. You can't keep any of the money that you're paid, it all goes to me. We can see how the first night goes and meet here tomorrow and see if you're going to do a second shift. How does that sound?"
"I haven't said anything to Kevin. Do you think I should lie to him?"
Karin, for the first time, seemed angry. "Fuck no! Of course not! What are you thinking?" She was exasperated. "Look, just tell him you're going to do it. If he refuses to let you you'll have to meet me back here at five and return my ID. I have to hear from you no later than 4:30." She wrote a number on the back of a napkin and handed it to Marcy. "That's my cell number. Call me if you can't, or won't do it."
Karin motioned for the waitress and ordered two black coffees. Then for the next few minutes Karin explained about the procedures as they sipped their coffee. What to wear. How to deal with the men. Prices and expectations. Hygiene, condoms and technique. A crash course in German--a handful of words that had more to do with remembering 150, 200 and 250 than anything else. Finally, she kissed Marcy on both cheeks and said, "I think you'll be great cheri. Good luck."
Chapter 7
Kevin had finished his run around the lake and even walked a lap. He expected Marcy to return about two but it was nearly three when she knocked softly on the door to their hotel room.
"How'd it go?"
"She was very nice. She paid for lunch we talked and talked." Then Marcy threw herself into Kevin's arms and nestled her head on his shoulder. "You're going to hate me," she said softly.
He thought she as about to cry. "I couldn't hate you for anything darling. I love you."
"Well, you won't when I tell you something."
He knew then that Karin had scored. "What is it sugar? I promise I won't be mad no matter what you've done."
"I haven't done anything. I should say I haven't done anything yet." Her body seemed to shake. "Oh, this is so hard Kevin." She gently pushed him away and said, "why don't you sit over there in the chair? I'll stand." Well, I probably won't stand but pace, she thought. "Okay, here goes. I would appreciate it if you'd let me finish, okay?" Kevin didn't speak he just nodded his head.
"This has been a wonderful trip. I've really had fun. We haven't done much sightseeing but going to the Reeperbahn, seeing the show and dressing up like this has been exciting. I can't remember having a better time in bed than I've right in that big hotel bed with you. You know I was curious about the women on that street behind the police station, Herbertstrasse, I think. Anyway, I told everything to Karin and she suggested that I take her place if I really wanted to find out what it was like. Can you believe that?"
"Sounds like a good idea to me," Kevin said without revealing his satisfaction.
"Are you serious. I thought you would be furious."
"What did you tell her?"
"She wants me to do it tonight starting at six."
This was moving much faster than he could ever have hoped for. "Go for it."
"Kevin, you know I can't do that."
"Why not? No one would ever know . . ."
He didn't have a chance to continue. Marcy stopped pacing, walked over to him and said, "what on earth do you mean, no one would ever know. You would know, Karin would know the men would know and, mostly importantly, I would know."
"I'm sure not going to say anything about it to anyone. We'll never see Karin again. She doesn't even know who you really are. And the men, all they want is half an hour, or an hour, of heaven. To them heaven is what's between your legs. Of course you'll know. That's what this is all about. Memories that can make you hot for the rest of your life. I look at this as an opportunity. Apparently, you see it differently."
"Of course I see it differently. I would feel cheap. And, while you say this is something you really want, I'll just bet that in a month or a year from now you'd come to hate me for it. I don't think you can mess with this kind of stuff without paying some sort of price. Our marriage is just too high a price to pay Kevin. Can't you see that?"
Kevin took his time in answering. "I don't want to do anything that would hurt our marriage either. I think this would actually help it."
"That's ridiculous."
Kevin decided to try a different strategy. "You know, Marcy, you're probably right. You shouldn't do it. Call Karin, tell her it's off and we'll go sightseeing."
"I would have to meet her at five."
"Why can't you just call her?"
Marcy pulled the laminated ID out of her jacket pocket and tossed it to Kevin. "She would have to get her ID back."
Kevin realized that deep down Marcy not only wanted to be Karin for a night, she planned to be Karin for a night. He held her in his arms. Didn't say a word for a minute or two. They were on the same wave length, the were in synch. Kevin saw that it was nearly four. "Why don't you start getting ready. You have an hour and a half."
There was no more discussion of the subject. Kevin turned on the TV even though the only channel in English was the BBC. Marcy closed the bathroom door which was unusual for her. Kevin must have punched the channel selector button a hundred times because he was as nervous as a surgery patient laying on a gurney waiting for the anesthesiologist. He had to admit he was also more excited than he had ever been in his life. Behind the closed door his wife was bathing, and doing the things that women do before they dress for an important occasion. She was doing whatever it took to look as good as possible. He imagined her hair in the big blue rollers. He imagined her carefully applying a coat of polish to her fingernails and toe nails. He imagined her doing her eyebrows, applying makeup base, and lipstick to her full sensuous lips. This was the first time that her preparations were not for him.
It was after five when the door opened. Marcy seemed almost shy as she entered the bedroom. Her hair was perfect. A little different style than he had ever seen. Then Kevin realized it was similar to Karin's hair style. Fuller, looser, sexier. Her makeup was not as heavy as it had been when she returned from lunch but it was perfect. Her nails had been painted a frosty color when she entered the bathroom now they were crimson and matched her lipstick. A cloud of perfume surrounded her. "What should I wear?"
"I don't think it matters very much what you wear going there. Didn't she say anything about the working clothes?"
"Yes she did. You're right. There will be plenty to select from. I think I should dress they way Karin would." She went to the drawer, took out a pair of black slacks, and a white T shirt.
Kevin watched as she stepped into the slacks, carefully pulled the T shirt over her head careful not to muss up the new hairdo. She stepped into the black pumps, tucked the T shirt into the slacks and slipped into the Jacket. She was completely covered from head to foot but incredibly sexy. Kevin realized that it wasn't just the square inches of exposed flesh that determined sexiness, there were many other factors. In this instance like what she was getting dressed to do and where she was getting dressed to go.
"I think this probably the way she dresses when she goes to work. How do I look?"
"You know how you look, you look beautiful."
Kevin saw Marcy slip the ID that had been laying on the end table into the jacket pocket. She took a brush, her lipstick and a compact and put them in the black purse. Then, she turned to Kevin and said, "will you go with me?"
Chapter 8
They cab dropped them in front of the police station. They walked hand-in-hand beyond Herbertstasse to the narrow alley that ran behind it. A policeman was standing at the alley entrance. Marcy pulled the ID from her pocket and flashed it at the policeman who waived her through then said, "halt."
Both Marcy and Kevin thought that he knew she wasn't the woman on the ID. They were wrong. He pointed to Kevin and waived his finger. They both realized that the alley was just the opposite of Herbertstrasse. The policeman was there to keep men out. The irony was not lost on either of them.
They didn't hug. They didn't kiss. They didn't even say goodbye. They unlaced their fingers and just parted. Kevin watched as she walked down the alley. Halfway down she turned to the left as if she had done it a thousand times before and punched some numbers onto a pad. Then she was gone.
Kevin turned around and walked back to Herbertstasse and the bright red barricade. He walked down to number seven. The chair behind the window was empty. It was Friday and seemed to be busier than it was last night even though it was very early. He walked up and down the street and looked into many of the windows but his mind was on the empty window at number 7.
He heard languages from around the world as groups of two, three and four men excitedly discussed the women in the windows. They laughed but their laughter was a nervous laughter that he thought was a cover-up. He must have made two or three turns up and down the street. He glanced at his watch and saw that it was now a few minutes after six. The chair in the window was still empty. He walked to the end of the street and thought that maybe she had changed her mind. He was about to leave the street and walk back to the alley to see if she was waiting for him. Then he looked back over his shoulder and saw that several of the men had stopped pacing and were looking into a window that he thought must be near the window of number 7.
His legs were like rubber as he approached a group of men that must have grown to ten or so in just a minute. Then he saw what they were looking at. Behind the glass was a breathtakingly beautiful woman wearing a black lace teddy and high heel pumps that were very familiar because he bought them. The teddy left nothing to the imagination. Her hard nipples were clearly visible. The legs were cut so high they ended above her hip bones. There was an earthiness that set her apart from all of the other women on the street.
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