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Recently in Salon Health & Body

A shot in the dark
Is a hospital the perfect place for a doctor to kill -- and kill again?
By Dawn MacKeen
[09/02/99]

Books
Frozen with fear
After a doctor injected him with a strange substance, the patient couldn't scream or move.
By James B. Stewart
[09/02/99]

Personal-space invaders
Research shows that we need room to stay sane.
By Jon Bowen
[09/01/99]

Urge
The gang's all here
Hope flickers at the World's Biggest Gangbang.
By Kevin Bisch
[08/31/99]

Urge
Through the hooking glass
Nancy plays her part -- but she can't decide what scene she's in.
By Tracy Quan
[08/30/99]

Complete archives for Health & Body

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Tuesday, Aug. 3, noon

Allison just called with a scared summary of her latest conversation with April: "She'll have the rest of the money to buy the book by the weekend. She really expects me to sell my book to her! And I can't tell her the deal's off until I have enough money to return her down payment. She sounds friendly but I have a feeling she's going to be mad at me when she finds out." Well, it doesn't take that long to come up with $1,500 but Allie keeps spending it. She's like a client who keeps trying to put off his orgasm. Every time she goes shopping, she prolongs her little hooking spree because she doesn't really want it to end.

For now, she's avoiding April and seeing new guys through Liane. It's kind of odd -- Liane is the first madam Allison ever worked for. In fact, that's how Allie and I first met -- on a call for Liane at the Pierre Hotel. Though it was for the client's amusement, I liked the way Allison touched me. It made me like her instantly. Some working girls could be clumsy or mechanical with another hooker's body. Not Allison. She always had a light, seductive hand, even when she wasn't trying. I still remember Liane's assessment: "She's a natural! Everyone wants to see her again. If only she had more common sense outside of bed."

Nancy Chan: Diary of a Manhattan Call Girl appears in Health & Body every Monday and Thursday. + About Nancy Chan: Diary of a Manhattan Call Girl -- with links to all chapters to date. + Read the Diary from the start.

Wednesday, August 4

Last night, I relented and Matt came over bearing flowers, a jar of vitamin C and another of Co-enzyme Q. "Your immune system must be seriously impaired," he said, kissing me gently. "God -- I really missed you! Why didn't you let me take care of you, honey?"

"Because you're too busy to play doctor. Silly boy."

When he insisted on sleeping over, I told him I was still too fragile for sex. He was respectful but horny and I felt his cock pressing against my thigh, dying to jump out of its boxers -- but he was too convinced of my delicacy to do any serious damage. When I completely make up with Matt, I want him to really take me. I know our next date will be ... wonderful. Oh, except that he doesn't know we've had a fight.

This is a small detail. He doesn't know I've been upset but he can feel the symptoms -- my absence, our lack of sex and his mounting appetite. (God -- mine too.) It took a few days for my (deliberate) disappearance to sink in but it's clear that he suffered, even if he doesn't know why, exactly. It's what he feels that matters -- not what he knows. So, is what I know more important than what I feel? Maybe.

Because my "flu" was a stand-in for my romantic bewilderment, his concern is oddly gratifying. I didn't plan it this way, but his distress has been so touching that it almost substitutes for the remorse I want him to feel regarding the fling or flirtation I pretend not to know about. I keep looking at his face for signs of guilt: none. Yet.

Next page | Harry so horny: Giving flesh to Jasmine's dirty words