“Can I use your toilet please monsieur” The request comes from a teenager of indeterminate age. She speaks in French but she is clearly of oriental origins. If looks were anything to go by she could be anything from thirteen to twenty though later she was to tell me she was eighteen. I was unloading my second bag from my car into my hotel room. The door was wide open. It was a cheap hotel, part of a large chain especially popular in France. I had a room on the ground floor at the back of the hotel. The hotel itself was on a commercial estate on the edge of a town, about halfway between Poitiers and Tours. I had used the hotel often for my overnight stays when making the journey to and from the UK. It was convenient. The hotel had no restaurant but it was next to a McDonald’s, a Subway and a ‘Poivron Rouge’ - a low cost restaurant. Over the road was a supermarket - Intermarche.

Between the back of the hotel and the eating establishments was an area of land that appeared to provide a hang-out for youngsters. I presumed that’s where the girl had appeared from.

“Yes, of course, go ahead. It’s that door there” Speaking in French and indicating the only door other then the entrance door. I followed behind her. She opened the door to the shower/washroom/toilet and closed it behind her. I dumped my bag on the table next to the window, opened it and pulled out a bottle of Beaujolais. I took out the corkscrew that went everywhere with me and opened the bottle. I had just poured a generous amount of the wine into one of the plastic cups the hotel provide for coffee when the girl emerged. She thanked me. I said she was welcome. She hesitated just a moment and, pointing at the outside door, I told her “It’s not locked, ” but as she reached for the door handle, I raised my plastic cup of wine and asked, “Would you like some?” She responded immediately, “Yes, please.” It came with a very pretty girl smile on a face that was very flushed, probably the heat of the day or perhaps embarrassment. Probably a combination of both.

“Here. Come and sit down on the edge of the bed” I invited as I poured her some wine. “My name’s David, what’s yours?” “Liu” she replied and spelled it out for me.

For a moment we sat saying nothing. Then I explained I was English and was on my way back to England although I now lived in southern France. I apologised for my poor French. Her response surprised me. She spoke in English, clear English only with a slight oriental accent, She explained that her mother was Chinese and her father English and English was the main language she grew up speaking. Her parents she said, together with her aunt and uncle had owned a reasonably successful restaurant in Hong Kong mainly frequented by English-speaking foreigners and her English improved as she served in the restaurant. She added that she watched a lot of “stuff” that was in English on the net. Her parents sent her to a school much favoured by the American and English ex-pats. Upon further questioning it appeared that the family had originally sold up in Hong-Kong with the intention of opening a high class Chinese restaurant in the UK but they had been sidetracked by a relative already living in France into opening a restaurant here in town.

“You’re dripping with sweat” I observed. “if you want to refresh yourself you can use the bathroom. The cool water will help you cool down quicker than the rather feeble air-con in here.”

“That’s very kind, thanks”

“In fact, if you want a shower, you’re very welcome. They provide plenty of towels.” Liu hesitated. I told her she was quite safe. I rose and opened th door to outside, “There you are” I said, smiling, “I’ll leave the door wide open so anybody passing will hear your screams. and come and save you.

The time it took for Liu to emerge from the shower was approximately one glass of wine.

She explained, “Ive not put my clothes on yet because I still need to cool down. And I don’t know what it is about you but I feel perfectly safe like this. I know you won’t take advantage.”

“You’re right. I wouldn’t dream of touching you without you telling me that’s what you want me to do. I’ll get off my arse and close the door so the crowds out there don’t get a free view with just that skimpy towel hiding the most interesting bits, Just joking. Why don’t we both sit here on the edge of the bed and perhaps we can talk for a while. What d’you say?.”

“Yes. That’s good.”

For a minute or two there is silence. Having agreed to talk to each other, neither of us can think of anything to comfortably jerk the silence into talk. Then Lui asks me,

“What do you do? What’s your job?”

I explain I was once a teacher but gave it up to become a professional gambler, earning a living by betting on horses.

“What did you teach? “

“Mainly History and economics but also sociology and Psychology. But that’s not very interesting. I’m much more interested in you. You are a little unusual. I quite admire the way you have come in after showering in my hotel room bathroom, come in here and sat on the bed wearing nothing but a towel. You have made a judgement that I will not molest you, make a pass or do anything to endanger your safety. I think all that’s very unusual for someone of your age. You tell me your name is Liu which is a pretty name but tell me more about yourself. All I know is that as I arrived at the hotel you came up and asked if you could use my bathroom. I know you were self-confident enough to accept the offer of a shower.. Tell me more.”

“That’s a terrible thing to ask someone. It’s so difficult”

I responded immediately,

“Of course it is. You are tempted either to say something about yourself to impress who you are talking to or you search for something you think the other person wants to hear. I’m sorry. I ought to know better. I’ll start again.”

“Years ago.... well, a few years ago,. ...I took an evening class for people who wanted to pass an examination in psychology. The people had to pay for this and it was once a week for two hours between 7 and 9 in the evening so it was quite a commitment. The course lasted two years. I took two classes the second starting as the first one completed its first year. Each class had about 15 to 20 students. Every student who signed up to that class was female except one male and he was a psychic healer – or at least he said he was..

Early on in the course I explained to the students that in many such evening classes where people who enrol tend not to know each other they are asked to address the class and say something about themselves. I was not going to do that. Instead after a few sessions, perhaps four or five weeks I was going to conduct an experiment that would reveal much more about each student but not necessarily to the class. When the time came I set the experiment up as a homework task. Each student was asked to print off, on one side of one piece of paper their greatest secret, preferably a secret never divulged to anybody else. It was essential that what they wrote should be anonymous so not only was the paper not to be signed but there should be no reference in the secret that would allow anybody in the class to recognise the author. I also asked that any student that did not want to participate in the experiment should hand in a blank piece of paper. The students should fold their pieces of paper in half and sellotape the two halves. They were to place them in a box on my desk whilst I was out of the room. The last person to place their sheet in the box was also to shuffle the pieces of paper. The experiment was done for both classes – the Wednesday and the Thursday groups.

I made 2 predictions that I wrote down and handed in a sealed envelope to one of the class.

The following week I told them I had analysed the responses. There were 43 responses. Of those 8 were blank or in 1 case the response was printed and anonymous but did not offer any relevant.

Of the 43 responses 26 revealed secrets of a sexual nature. Of those 5 were about outright adultery and another 4 were about an extramarital relationships but not specifically mentioning intercourse. 8 responses were admissions of having committed an illegal act – or at least, what was believed to be an illegal act. One person admitted to an illegal act without realising it.

Believe me Lui you would be amazed at what these ladies revealed under the protection of anonymity. What do you think?”

“I think I would have handed in a blank sheet”

“Yes, that’s not surprising. You are young and haven’t had as many opportunities to be naughty as those ladies had – not yet anyway.”

“I suppose so. “ There was a short pause before Liu asked, “What was the response that you said was not eligible?”

“Ah. Interesting you should ask that. Strangely it was the one response where I was fairly sure I knew who had written it. It read something like, ‘My secret is that I really want to have sex with you and that’s a real problem for you because you now know one of your students, one of your 40 or so ladies wants you for sex and is excited just thinking about it. But which one? Better not make a mistake. But you will make a mistake because I’m not going to admit it’s me!”

This was clever. It was intended to keep me wondering, keep me expectant but frustrated. But that of course was the clue. I had marked enough of their written work to be able to confidently pick out the one student who thought laterally – you know the student that had that indirect creative approach to problems. So I was fairly sure I knew who it was. But she won because I could never know for certain. Moreover, I knew – no, I guessed – she was not writing about herself but actually about her friend. Her friend was much more my type. They had both joined together and there had been one or two hints that her friend might be interested in something a little ex-curricular.”

“What about the illegal acts? What sort of thing were they?”

“Well there were certainly no murders. A fair amount of shoplifting was confessed to but generally these confessions concerned acts that were committed some years earlier. By being historic acts it seems they become easier to confess to. One woman admitted wanting to touch the body of a 13 year-old boy. The boy was at school with her son and was in her care one afternoon a week after games. At first she said she found herself just wondering what he would be like naked and then this developed, she wrote, into a desire to touch him and fondle him. She did get to touch him she admitted one afternoon when the boys came in filthy from playing rugby and they had to take turns having a shower.”

I took a sip – a big sip – of wine. Then I explained to Liu,

“I would never have attempted this experiment with students of your age. I think that, with sixth formers, perhaps even freshers at university, it becomes too much like prying.”

“Oh I don’t know. I think when you are my age you love taking part in psychological experiments. I think it would be fun. Also you’d be able to compare the results of boys as well as girls, though it does seem that it is mainly girls that choose to do psychology at school and uni.”

“Yes, I guess you’re right. I suppose they would have secrets they would only be prepared to tell under the protection of being anonymous. I imagine they would certainly be different types of secret to those of older women. What do you think? Do you have secrets you would only tell of if you were certain of remaining anonymous?”

“Yes I’m sure I do have secrets like that.”

“Of course, you are not anonymous here and now but you and I have chatted with each other and drunk together this evening. Would you tell me a secret? We will probably never meet again so that’s almost the same as being anonymous. Have you got a secret? Telling me is a bit like it being anonymous. In a sense we are strangers and it is extremely unlikely that I’ll intrude into your life ever again.”

I am somewhat taken aback when, without any warning Liu bursts out,

“I watch porn”

“OK. I see.” I pause then ask

“but why should you feel guilty about that so that you keep it secret?”

“I guess I’m obsessed by it. I watch it so much. Once I start I don’t know how to stop. It’s like I’m constantly searching further looking for some sort of sex I can watch that is like sex itself. That doesn’t make much sense does it. I’m sorry.”

“What you say is interesting. I think I understand. But does this obsession with porn would you say that it provides you with something more than sexual pleasure?”

“Oh, sometimes it gets silly. Sometimes I look forward to a session watching porn. And – this is really embarrassing – I prepare myself. ”

“What do you mean, you prepare yourself.? “

“Well. I have a shower – or if I’ve got the time I have a bath. I do all the things I think I’d if I were really having sex. I shave myself. I wash my vagina extra carefully and I wash my bum so it’s really clean – as if I were going to have anal sex. And while I’m doing all this I talk to myself as if I were with a man who’s about to do me. You know I tell him what I’m going to do for him and what he has to do for me. My language is very crude and very sexually explicit. I know I shouldn’t tell you these things. I’m sorry. Just for a moment I seemed to get carried away. It’s like I’ve been waiting to tell someone and at last I have the chance. You probably think something awful of me. Maybe you think I’m a sort of slut or something. But honest I’m a virgin. I watch porn on the screen, on my laptop, and seem to spend hours watching it. Some of it is even completely disgusting things with dogs and horses and revolting things but I still carry on watching. I know it’s pathetic.”

I say nothing. We sit there on the bed barely covered.

Liu is staring at the floor but then looks at me and smiles. It’s a soft almost cheeky smile. It makes her face appear very pretty.

“Would you like to touch me” she asks

“Look Liu I’m not kicking you out but I think it’s time you left. I have to be honest with you. What you are telling me is difficult for me. As you speak I cannot but help imagining you watching your porn and touching yourself and masturbating. Thinking these things is making me want sex with you. Your invitation to touch you is the most beautiful and sweetest thing that has happened to me in years. I shan’t pretend. I have an erection that is almost painful. As someone who has just met you and truly likes you I cannot allow you to let me exploit you that way. I know as sure as day follows night that there will be recrimination. I will always remember what you have said and the sweet way you have tempted me into your weird little pleasure dome. I must stop myself. I must not go there. Once the moans and groans have subsided and the bodily fluids smeared over our bodies have dried, the questions and doubts will begin. No matter how beautiful the experience I shall forever be ashamed that I took advantage of your youth, naivete and inexperience. You will regret you allowed an ageing psychology teacher to steal your virginity. “

“Ok I’ll just go and get dressed. Is it OK if I use the bathroom?

“Of course.”

“One more little favour?”

“Of course. What is it?”

“A pen and some paper so I can leave you a note.”

“Can’t you say what it is rather than write it?”

“No. I’ll write it and you will understand when you read it why I cannot say it to you directly”

“Here, use a sheet in this exercise book. Here’s a pen.”

Fifteen minutes later Liu came out of the bathroom. Dressed. She handed me the sheet of paper folded in half. On the paper was written, “What was not said”.

I read it as soon as she had opened the door and departed.

“I want to suck your cock. I want you to watch carefully as your prick slips into my mouth as my tongue licks your balls. And I want you to lick my cunt, lick my cunt and suck my clit. I want you to make my nipples stiff. I want you to spank me if I’m no good. You know what I mean? If I don’t suck your cock the way you like then you must spank me..Spank me and hurt me. Then kiss my sore bum. And stroke it and poke it. Put me on all fours so you can fuck me from behind. Pull your wet prick out and thrust it into my bum. Keep going all the while I come then turn me over and spew your cum all over me.”

I knew what she had written for me was not erotic. It was, as she had warned me in describing her secret, obscene and full of flesh. At the same moment as it repelled me I knew that had she being laying down beside me saying these things I would have succumbed. The Lord only knows what I would have done. I read and re-read her note. I tried to masturbate as a way of relieving the tension I felt. That too was a failure. Eventually I slept. When I woke up early in the morning, ready for the dash to Calais, I showered and shaved. I drank a cup of quick, burning coffee and made for the door with my packed bags. Just then, as I turned back to check that I’d left nothing behind, I saw on the doormat a pair of small white knickers. I picked them up and tucked them into a pocket. Later in my journey I would smell them

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