Forbidden Pleasure

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The woman in the billing department looked at the record she was typing into the computer, and giggled. "Don't you ever wonder what Emily Shanski uses the Channel for, Gail?" she said to her fellow worker at Suburban Cable.

"Hey, like all the rest of us," Gail answered. "Long, unhurried, incredible sex. I don't know who invented this network or whatever it is, but I'm sure as hell glad they did." She looked at her companion. "What do you think it really is, Doreen? I mean there isn't another channel on the television that actually lets you dream up your personal fantasy, and then lets you physically enjoy it. Do you think it's magic? Or something worse? Ah hell! Who cares? Well, maybe my old man might if he knew what I was doing when he's on the night shift," she cackled.

Doreen laughed. "Yeah, I guess it's better we don't know," she said. "And I sure as hell wouldn't want my husband to find out about it. The men would either try to close the Channel down, or they'd want it for themselves. It's a woman thing." She hit the print button, and when the bill had rolled out of the printer already folded she put it in the preaddressed stamped envelope. "Lot of women in Egret Pointe using the Channel these days," she noted. "Hey, it's noon. Let's break for lunch, Gail. Too bad the Channel isn't available now."

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