Venus and Tannhäuser

Sexual content

10. Aphrodite

I read up on Aphrodite, but she didn’t do it for me, and then I forgot about her. One has to do some work, unpack boxes, phone one’s mum etc. sometime. It seemed like it was weeks later, but it must have been months, when Dee called. Fireworks were going off, which reminded me it was November. Dark nights and a manic landlord, determined to keep the Wimbledon and Merton youth from enjoying an illegal firework, is what I remember. A week before and a week after the date, the youth enjoyed thwarting him by lighting a touch paper, safe in the knowledge they lit Mr Snoopy’s at the same time.

 November 1^st , Dee called.

‘Did you contact him?’

‘Who?’

‘Like you have forgotten Goliath. Ha bloody ha.’

‘Oh him?’ I cooed in my most artless soprano voice.

When Dee had finished calling me all the mendacious bitches she could think of, she continued, ‘Well, perhaps he called you?’

‘Not a whisper.’

‘How odd. But you have done your homework on Aphrodite and are ready for the next sally?’

In retrospect, I think it odd she thought it odd, but at the time I remained clueless as ever.

‘I think this is the wrong way round, Dee. Aren’t I supposed to get myself into a pickle, behave atrociously, and then you appear and find some shady mythical excuse, which allows me to continue to be a promiscuous tart?’

‘That would be good if you behaved like a promiscuous pie more often. I’m not waiting a year for the next adventure.’

‘Make a suggestion!’

‘I’ll think about it.’

A few days went by. Then came a dark, rainy November evening, with fireworks hissing through the low cloud, miserably cold, and the streetlights had failed, so the front gate was barely visible. I carry a torch with me for such nights and was fishing in my bag whilst trying to negotiate the murky front path when a hand touched my shoulder and another covered my mouth. I tried a muffled scream, but quickly stopped. His hand was firm, but my fright abated. I smelt his smell through the smell of fireworks – Goliath’s smell. I relaxed, he whispered in my ear and the tension returned.

‘Here or on the stairs inside?’

‘Neither! Inanna, the goddess of risk-taking, is finished, at least for the time being, taking risks. That last moment on the Northern Line was quite a shock.’

‘A moment we’ll neither of us forget.’

‘I still shudder when I think of it.’

‘So, who is it now?’

‘My mentor says it is to be Aphrodite.’

‘Venus to the Romans. I love Venus - the supersensual one. Do you live on the top floor?’

‘Er ... yes,’ I replied, unsure how much of my private life Goliath should share.

‘Perfect! A castle. In the medieval minstrel songs, Tannhäuser visits Venus on Mount Venus, beleived to be somewhere around the Wartburg, near Eisenach. The anatomical name for that wonderful protrusion that carries your pubic hair is mons veneris, actually named after her hill. You don’t shave, do you?

‘Er – no.’

‘Fantastic! I think we are going to have fun. When can I visit Mount Venus?’

‘Slowly does it, Goliath. This is new territory. A girl has to make preparations, and Aphrodite was a more reluctant girl than Inanna.’

‘No, she wasn’t. Besides, why can’t we have a quick last Inanna moment and get on to Venus next time?’

I nearly gave in to him, but my inner voice of practicality was louder than my outer muse of lust.

‘I’m wearing trousers, it’s November, cold, raining, and I’m not dropping me kecks on the front path in this weather.’

He moved his hand from my neck where it had rested and found his way inside my overcoat. I felt my breasts receive his attention, for the first time, I think.

‘What is wrong with upstairs, or my place?’

‘It is a big step to remove the anonymity. We may get carried away, and I’m not on the pill. The question of sexual health needs addressing too. How many more reasons should there be?’

He leant forward and kissed my neck, low down. I shuddered with desire and felt his beard was back again. I assume he thwarted the CCTV cameras by taking a shave, as I had suggested. Perhaps he was brave, or foolhardy, and risked keeping his stubble. He continued.

‘December 6^th. Feast of St. Nicholas. Let’s make it the feast of Mount Venus.’

‘Fine. That gives me a month to sort the pill out. I shall get an STD all-clear whilst I’m doing it. You must do the same. In fourteen days we send a P*F copy to each other. I don’t know if the STD nurse will let us use our pseudonyms. If not, you can blank your name out. Do you know my name?’

‘Not yet. When I followed you here first time we clicked, I deliberately didn’t ask after your name. The man who talked to me just called you “her on the third floor”. Charming chap.’

I thrilled to know he would return, but how would I wait over a month? A rocket zished into the foggy sky, illuminated us with its shower of diffuse stars. I feared he would depart any second. I had to think of something to say. The rocket remains crashed to earth next to us and let off a late loud last explosion. We both jumped, me backwards, firmly into his arms. He seized me and held me tightly. I loved it.

‘I need to take up where we left off,’ he whispered. That aroma, that breath on my skin – memories of the last encounter flooded back.

‘Fine by me,’ I assured him. ‘How shall we organise it? No more trains, though. Somewhere private.’

I was up for throwing caution to the wind; my legs were trembling with excitement. He could have done anything to me in that moment, but he stayed sensible, thank goodness. I felt his grasp relax and he moved backwards.

I turned to face him for the first time, but the darkness had returned.

‘I’ll contact you in fourteen days.’

‘That’s good,’ I said, ‘and for this episode you are Tannhäuser and I’ll be Venus.’

He moved away, but called to me.

‘Okay. I’ll be sorry to see Goliath go, but the name didn’t suit me.’

‘Nor Bluestocking me,’ I called into the descending fog.

He was gone. Had he heard me?

A fortnight of anguish went by. The anguish was caused by a mixture of disappointment that he was gone, and unbearable expectation for the future. Did I really have to wait another two weeks before I would feel his breath on my skin, his aroma around my face, his touch on my body? Was it possible to be so in love with a man who I had only experienced physically? Was it just lust? No! This was more than the will of the flesh.

I went to the Family Planning clinic, got myself fixed up with an implant, and asked for an STD check-up.

‘I’m certain I’m clear,’ I assured her. ‘I have nothing but a blameless history, unfortunately, but it’s only fair on my new partner to prove that.’

‘It’s sensible. I wish more people thought like you.’

She prepared to take the blood sample.

‘I have a special request, though.’

‘Go on!’

‘Presumably my name appears somewhere on the piece of paper you give me.’

‘Of course.’

‘I’d like it to just say “Venus”.’

‘Lots of people prefer not to use their real names, and as we are in the business of getting our customers to be sensible, we don’t check backgrounds. But why not use a marker pen to remove your name and add what you like. Use a sticky label.’

‘Okay.’

I arrived home that evening to find the nosey landlord holding a thin parcel.

‘For you,’ he announced.

‘Why are you standing there holding it? There is plenty of room on the post table.’

He hesitated for a moment. Was he embarrassed? I had just called him a nosey git, politely, I admit but he must have got the message. He does not do embarrassed – not when there is gossip in the offing.

‘Thought you might miss it. Anything interesting?’ he asked. ‘Important?’

‘How would I know until I’ve opened it? Shall I open it now, so you can see?’

His eyes lit up in expectation.

‘I noticed it’s from a second-hand bookshop,’ he observed. ‘If you ordered it, you presumably know what it is.’

I walked past him and up the stairs. Unfortunately, that left me to imagine his stupid disappointed face behind me. Curiosity killed the cat and I was as interested as he was, but not about to unravel the secret of the package in public – not for him.

The book slid out the jiffy bag, and on to the kitchen table. Venus and Tannhäuser, by Aubrey Beardsley. Oh wow!

It was ancient, with yellowed pages and the price in shillings. The cover was black with thin writing and claimed to contain a ‘profusion of Beardsley drawings’. They were poor-quality prints, with heavy ink and thin lines. I read the foreword and discovered it was the first unexpurgated printing, which surprised me, as the average magazine for early teens is nowadays more explicit than those diagrams. There was a note with it. I didn’t stop to read it carefully, but the gist was the Beardsley description of Venus and Tannhäuser’s shenanigans should form the basis of our future activities. It gave the address of a confidential chat room. That would speed communication. I logged on, signed up and searched the presently active list. There was Tannhäuser. Click. We were together.

Hi Tanny

Thanks for the book. I’ve been to Family Planning. So excited.

Venus

I wasn’t prepared for the reply. I suppose that’s the thing that has kept me interested in Goliath, now Tannhäuser. And that is why, for me, he will always remain my Tannhäuser. It is the element of surprise. Goliath had been a known quantity, with Inanna calling the shots, but Tannhäuser, with Beardsley’s help, gave me the new life which I craved, with never a dull moment.

I thought he had lost it until I realised he was quoting Beardsley.

He wrote:

Now then, beloved and most revered and most elegant, enchanting, aesthetic, euphonious, and eloquent Venus, captivator of my eye. You have read, in your perfection, page 73.

Perhaps not! May I remind you of yourself?

‘Venus slipped away the dressing gown and rose before the mirror in a flutter of frilled things. She was adorably tall and slender. Her neck and shoulders were so wonderfully drawn, and the little malicious breasts were full of the irritation of loveliness that can never be entirely comprehended, or ever enjoyed to the utmost. Her arms and hands were loosely but delicately articulated, and her legs were divinely long. From the hip to the knee, twenty-two inches; from the knee to the heel, twenty-two inches, as befitted a goddess.’

Question 1. Please confirm you have <malicious breasts>.

Your, ever panting,

Tannhäuser

Once my mirth was back under control, I wrote:

Thank you, Tanny, for your kind enquiry into my wellbeing.

I fancy I can feel my malicious breasts, pointing like cannons to salute the thought of you.

Incidentally, is it fitting for a goddess to get a fit of the giggles?

Venus

He replied:

No worries! A giggling goddess can be a venerable Venus.

Now for the measurements.

1. Undress.
2. With a marker pen, make three lines. One in the crease beneath your buttock. A second in the middle of the patch behind your knee, and a third at the top of your heel.
3. Place a large mirror on the floor.
4. Put the foot of the naked leg on a chair. Don’t forget to admire your lips. Measure the distance from the crease beneath your beautiful backside, to the centre of the patch behind your knee, and then from there, to the mark on your heel.
5. Report back to me.

As ever,

Your tender Tannhäuser

My reply took a while. I searched for a marker pen and soon found one in vermillion. A large detachable mirror was more difficult. Packing case number 42 revealed a mirror, not really large enough. I made the marks, placed the chair and mirror in what I thought would be the correct constellation, found I couldn’t locate the buttock mark, jiggled to bring it into view, caught sight of a very puffy and excited me, lost my balance, stepped on the mirror, tried to skip and miss the mirror, lest I should break it, fell over, hit the middle of the mirror with my knee and broke it, and, oh, I cut my other knee.

I didn’t know how to stay in a forgiving mood, but I was lucky it turned out to be a scratch and ceased bleeding before I could get to the bathroom.

I sat at my computer.

Tanny, you are a prat!

Where does it say in the black book that Venus is a contortionist? I broke the mirror and cut myself!

Virago Venus

No reply. I waited and then came a riddle.

Sorry for the delay. The mental image of your naked self cavorting, throwing herself across the room, and in a pool of blood, bottom to the ceiling and cradle to the wall, was too much for me, but a poor man. I skipped to page 75 and did a Florizel.

Perhaps we should try again tomorrow.

(Now) Torpid Tannhäuser

I found the book, which had slipped behind my writing table during my fall, and opened page 75. I read:

‘As the tray was being carried away, the capricious Florizel snatched as usual a slipper from it, and fitted the foot over his penis and made the necessary movements. That was Florizel’s little caprice.’

The Tinker!

Jerking off at the thought of me taking a tumble while naked and more importantly, why would Tannhäuser just happen to have a goddess’s slipper available?

I sat at my computer again, with a view to shutting it down. Instead, I wrote one last message for Tanny, for the morning, when he awakes.

I want that slipper.

X    

V

I did not expect an answer. The screen put a warning star up for an incoming message.

No problem. What will you use tonight?

I answered:

Is this a topic suitable for a goddess and her knight?

Of course! he replied. Open up and relax. One should celebrate masturbation as a positive and divine act, just like worshipping at your back door was. I challenge you to discuss your next hand job with your closest work colleague. Not a friend, though. Remember, Oscar Wilde suggested one should learn to love yourself before looking to others. I think it was OW. Let's check him out, later.

Report back tomorrow night.

The screen closed as he logged off. What did he want me to do? I read again and again.