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more comfortable?"
    I emerged from my thoughts. I still had my boots on. How embarrassing! I leapt up. I took off my boots and unbuttoned my pants.
    I saw her lying on the sofa. Her white robe contrasted stunningly with the deep black of the leather. Unbelievable how she completed the sequence, lying there so perfectly arranged. I looked at her, crestfallen.
    "Should I do it?"
    "What?" I was quite irritated. I'd forgotten why I'd stood up.
    "Undress you." It sounded absolutely self-evident. She seemed expectant. Of course - the wishes of her clients... I shook my head roughly to chase away the uncomfortable thoughts.
    "No," I fought loudly against the voice in my head. Too loudly. To that I added shrinkingly, "I can do that myself."
    "I'm convinced of that," she stated, slightly amused once more.
    The silk of the robe she wore made clear the contours of her body. Her straight shoulders, her breasts, the sweeping line of her hips. Slowly, I took off my pants. She watched me. I was embarrassed. "Could you maybe look somewhere else?"
    "Yes, of course." She agreed to my wish immediately. Nonetheless, I had the feeling that she looked away against her will.
    That's unfair of you. You look at her with such longing, and when she does the same... Yes, I know, but she's so beautiful - and she's used to it! My conscience was starting to bother me. Is that an excuse for bad behavior? it scolded from the recesses of my mind. I ignored it haughtily.
    I went back over to the sofa. My arousal climbed. I could feel my pulse beating in my neck. She was still looking out the window. I kneeled next to the sofa and laid my hand on her stomach. She didn't react. After a second, I understood. "Look at me, please," I said. She turned her face toward me. If she just wouldn't do everything I asked!
    Her belly rose and fell regularly beneath my hand. I went deeper and slid it under the cloth. My hand lay on her upper thigh. She still breathed quietly and evenly. My thoughts from early that morning occurred to me. Perhaps she really didn't feel anything from that. But last time...? So much was different then from today. I pulled my hand back.
    She said nothing. She propped herself up on one elbow and laid the other hand on the nape of my neck. Her lips parted. She pulled me a little closer and kissed me. She tickled my neck a little; her kiss was careful and exploratory. Was this Technique No. 324? Despite her experienced tongue, my arousal fell to zero. She noticed. "Am I doing something wrong?" This friendly willingness in her voice, this striving to make everything satisfactory for me. There it was again, the professionalism. But it was her job, after all! Why couldn't I accept that?
    "No, no," I denied quickly. "It's my fault. I guess I'm just not in the mood today." I knew that was a flat lie, and she knew it too. I stood up. I couldn't do it and I'd never be able to. That was clear to me now. The last time we'd seen each other, everything had been a surprise. This time it was planned - and that was the difference. She looked up at me, waiting, but - so it seemed to me anyhow - without any particular interest. "I'll go right away," I said. "Excuse me, please."
    She stood up anyhow, with one of her elegant movements that made me look like a bull in a china shop. "Oh, that's all right. An unanticipated free afternoon." She smiled. Like a neighbor. A very cursorily known neighbor. She made no attempt to hold me back. Of course not, why should she? I didn't matter to her. The faade had crumbled a bit during our first meeting for whatever reason. Now, at any rate, there was nothing left of that to notice. I felt the tears begin to well in my eyes. Only now did I realize how much I had wanted her reaction to be different.
    I forced the lump in my throat back down. I turned around. In a matter of seconds, I was dressed. She still stood there with that neighborly, well-wishing smile on her face. "I - what do I owe you?"  It was awful. I hoped it wouldn't