Prologue
I don't know how long I've been lying here in the darkness. Is it night or day? I know I've slept at least a bit, but was it for hours or minutes? I'm confused and disorientated but the sheer strangeness of the situation is a big part of what makes it so exciting...
1.
It began with a message. There had been months of online chatting, the occasional voice call when circumstances made it possible, some fleeting images shared over a video connection... and then, one morning, out of the blue, a simple set of instructions waiting for me when I logged on to Skype: the address of a hotel in my city; the reference number of a booking that had been made in my name; a time and date the following week to go there and check in, when there would be an envelope to collect at reception containing further instructions, to read while I'm still alone in the room. Nothing more. And the only reply to the message I sent asking for some sort of explanation was short, three words: "Just be there."
2.
I find it hard to concentrate over the days that follow, my head full of questions... Is this really happening? Are you really going to be here, in Dublin, an ocean away from your home? What will happen in that hotel room? Am I ready for this? Are we ready for this? How will I explain my absence...? The last question is at least a practical one, something I can address: an invented business trip, a day's leave from work.
3.
I look at my watch, nervous, not knowing what to expect, anticipation building. 10pm exactly. The time you'd told me to go to the hotel. I push the door open and walk to the reception desk, where I'm greeted by a young man.
"Good evening, sir. How can I help?"
"I have a reservation in the name of Jones. Do you need a reference for the booking?"
"That shouldn't be necessary, I'll just check the system... yes, I think this should be it... Matt Jones?"
"Yes, that's it..."
"Room for two for one night..."
"Yes, the other person should be getting here later. Her name is Laurie. You can just let her come up."
"I see that the room is already paid for. And, let's see... something's been left for you..."
He turns and reaches for something on a shelf behind the desk. An envelope, quite bulky, which he hands to me before taking a key card and swiping it.
"Room 526 on the fifth floor. The elevator is just over there..."
I walk to where he is pointing and press the button, my mouth a little dry, my heart thumping. The elevator arrives and I step inside, already opening the envelope before the door has even slid shut behind me. I can see that there is a sheet of paper, as well as something black and stiff, not completely flat and folded once. I take it from the envelope and unfold it. A mask, in the style of a Venetian carnival mask, with a black ribbon to hold it on... I don't have time to take out the sheet of paper before the elevator reaches the fifth floor and the doors slide open. I step out and see that room 526 is to the right.
I fumble slightly as I slide the card into the slot, tell myself to calm down, breathe deeply.
4.
The room is very much like all modern hotel rooms: magnolia walls, a large double bed, a desk with a chair, a large wall-mounted TV, a bathroom just off the entrance. I leave my overnight bag on the desk and take the paper out of the envelope.
"Good evening Matt. I hope you're looking forward to tonight as much as I am. Right now I want you to do exactly as I am going to tell you: undress down to your underwear and put on the mask that you found with this note. Take the chair that you'll find at the desk, place it in the middle of the floor, facing the door, and turn out the light. Return to the chair and sit on it. Then wait. You won't have to wait long. There is one other rule that must be respected: no speaking. We have explored so much with words - tonight is different. Tonight we go beyond words."
I undress, hanging my clothes in the closet, leaving just my boxers on. I take my toilet bag from my overnight bag and brush my teeth. I don't know if you'll want me to wear a condom but I leave a couple on the bedside table. Then I put on the mask and go back into the bathroom to look at my reflection. The mask makes me physically anonymous, except for my lower face and mouth... You wouldn't recognise me if you saw me in the street. This is how we have always wanted it. Anonymous yet intimate.
I turn off the light at the switch just inside the door and in the darkness I can just about make out the chair. I find my way to it, sit and wait. A few minutes pass...
I hear footsteps in the corridor outside. They stop in front of the door and there is a click as the lock is undone. The door opens. I see only an outline at first, backlit, a suggestion... As my eyes adjust I can see that your face is hidden by a mask. You are wearing a long, loose-fitting coat, revealing nothing of the shape of your body. You step into the room and open the bathroom door just a couple of centimetres before turning on the bathroom light and closing the door from the corridor. There is just enough light to find your way across the room towards me, stopping to place a bag on the desk beside mine. I begin to rise from the chair but you gesture to me to stay seated and move around the chair to stand behind me, placing your hands on my bare shoulders, your thumbs softly rubbing the nape of my neck... I find myself making a sound almost like a cat purring. It's happening. You are touching me. Touching me physically. Skin on skin. This isn't a dream. It isn't happening in my imagination. It's happening in the real world, not the virtual world. The urge to speak, to tell you what I'm feeling, is so strong but I remain silent. My body speaks for me, reacting to the touch, my cock hardening inside my boxers...
