Free Black Glass by Meg; Mundell

Josette un-knotted his belt, flipped back his robe and began her demonstration. His eyes remained fixed on the screen, where a chubby man was doing stunts on water-skis. Grace tried to imagine this was a scene from a movie, they were all actors, but this was not her kind of movie. And it wasn’t modelling either, like they’d told her on the phone.
    First, explained Josette, you coaxed the flesh upwards, using the smooth underside of your arms, just above the wrist. Or your thigh, once you got better at it. ‘Never your bare hands, girls — not these days.’ Hygiene was important. ‘Now watch how I do it. Once it’s properly up, you roll the condom on like this. Make sure you pinch the air out — stops it breaking. And now … See? Easy. Firm but gentle. Keep going awhile and eventually, bingo: you’ll strike oil. Though at Perry’s age it’s more like unblocking a drain.’ She laughed as the little column of flesh lurched wearily about.
    The man just made a huffing sound and flicked through the channels, pausing to watch some cops kick in a door, before settling on a weight-loss infomercial with a mistimed laugh track. He lay propped against a pile of cushions, legs stretched out along the couch, feet crossed neatly at the ankles. He looked bored, almost sad. His breathing was slightly jagged, but nothing else above the waist indicated he was being touched.
    â€˜Look — once it’s wrapped in plastic it’s no more than a little salami!’ Josette gave the man’s penis a gentle backhanded slap, and it bobbed around forlornly.
    â€˜Hey,’ Perry complained. ‘Go easy.’ He frowned at Josette, shifted his ashtray to his chest and gave his cigarette an irritated tap. His eyes returned to the screen, where a bucktoothed blonde was StairMastering her way to heaven.
    The door to their enclave was not completely closed. High heels clacked past in the hallway, and something slid down the laundry chute with a whoomph . They heard a door open and a girl call out, asking the receptionist for a small Hawaiian with extra pineapple. ‘Helllooo!’ exclaimed another girl in tones of astonished delight. A man’s voice replied, ‘Hey,’ all casual, like it was no big deal.
    â€˜Once you’ve got the condom on,’ continued Josette, ‘make sure it stays on. Some of them try to slip it off when you’re not looking.’ Her face darkened. ‘You don’t want to catch diseases, do you? Get gonorrhoea and wreck your reproductive systems, so you can never have kids — do you?’
    The girls shook their heads in unison. Grace was watching the whole scene, herself sitting there on the pink couch, as if from far away.
    â€˜Jesus Christ, Josie,’ griped Perry. ‘You really know how to make a man feel good.’ Susie’s wine was already half gone; Grace, who had barely sipped hers, had begun to feel sick.
    The lesson concluded quickly. Josette’s hand shuttled up and down; Perry closed his eyes, letting his cigarette droop into the ashtray. His toes curled, he shivered, and a jet of pale goo filled the end of the condom. He sighed once and opened his eyes. Some of the creases had fallen out of his face, but little else had changed. He lay still as the woman demonstrated how to remove and knot the filmy sack without spilling its contents.
    â€˜This stuff,’ she said, dabbing at Perry’s crotch with a wad of tissue, ‘must be treated as hazardous waste. Never touch it directly.’ The tissue and condom went into a special plastic bag. Josette’s bejewelled fingers whipped up a speedy knot and fired the whole package into the bin. Perry sighed again, covered himself with a towel and changed the channel.
    â€˜End of lesson one,’ said Josette, washing her hands at a sink. Wiping them on a towel, she turned to face the girls. ‘So. What do you think?’
    Susie just