Eros in the Wire

Trudy rolled her limited edition forest green Rimowa suitcase up the steep hill that her Uber driver refused to ascend. But she took a 5:30 a.m. Lagree class every Tuesday/Thursday, a 5:45 a.m. spin class every Monday/Wednesday/Friday, and a 6:30 a.m. high-intensity boot camp every Saturday—so she had no problem with the incline.

Elikonas was a small village adjacent to the mountain that bore its name, surrounded by fertile lands, tall trees, and ancient summits that penetrated the sky—the perfect place for her to unplug from the world. 

After her status call.

Her Airbnb was a terracotta cottage with a tiled roof and accents of light grey stone. Wooden pergolas adorned each of the two balconies, and the entranceway was painted in the infamous sky-blue color of all things Greece. Her closet was large enough to fit twice the amount of clothes she brought, but the only thing she cared to unpack was her laptop. After all, she didn’t get where she was in life by letting others burn her midnight oil.

The listing explicitly said there was Wi-Fi, but no matter how many chairs she stood on, or balconies she dangled her devices over, there wasn’t a signal in sight. Even her phone’s hotspot was running cold. “This can’t be happening,” she shouted into the ether. Her team would surely be lost without her, or worse, they’d turn her absence into an excuse to slack off. 

The thought infuriated her.

Trudy got on her hands and knees, crawling around every inch of the house, looking for a rudimentary way to get online. She squealed in the bedroom when she spotted a small outlet behind the bedframe, “Ethernet!” The hole was full of dust and looked like it hadn’t been used in two thousand years.

Her mood was dampened when she remembered she hadn’t packed an Ethernet cable in her bag since the late aughts. She began to hyperventilate.

“Breathing exercises,” she instructed herself. She lay on the bed, staring up at the vaulted, exposed wooden beams, and took deep breaths. “I am letting go. I am focusing on myself. I have earned this.” She repeated the mantra in her mountaintop abode with all the mindful intention her therapist taught her. It calmed her down—until she remembered that even the therapist’s office had Wi-Fi.

“This is bullshit.” Trudy grabbed her purse and marched down the hill to the small village where she prayed someone spoke English.

The agora was more colorful than she expected. Each building unit was painted in a unique hue: this one a vibrant pink, that one a fluorescent green. Bouquets of flowers were draped from overhangs, and the shops were filled with everything from hand-carved figures to locally-woven dresses and more cheese and wine than she could imagine. 

But not a fucking electronic store in sight.

“Excuse me,” she pestered everyone who walked by, “Ethernet? La Ethernet? ἠ εθεrnet?” She was only met with courteous smiles and side-eyes.

Trudy leaned against the tan, dry stone wall and slid to the ground, hands in her face, tears on the verge of embarrassing her.

A painfully old woman pushing an even older cart approached her. “Are you okay, dear?” she asked.

The sweet sound of accented English was music to her ears. “Yes. It’s just…none of the stores here have what I need.”

“Well, maybe I do.” The woman pointed to her wooden wagon with a flourish.

Trudy eyed the pile of tattered scarves, chipped trinkets, and cheap jewelry. “I doubt it.”

The woman looked at her body as if she were looking at her soul. “I take it you’re not here with your husband.”

Trudy involuntarily laughed. She hadn’t had a boyfriend since the Obama administration, let alone time for a spouse. “Can you just tell me which one of these little places sells computer stuff?”

“None. I’m afraid.” The woman began to dig through her heap as if it were a bottomless pit. “But I have all sorts of things.”

Trudy did some eye rolling of her own. “Yeah? Do you have an Ethernet cable?”

Wrinkled fingers danced through cerulean and violet fabrics and emerged with a thick, coiled cord with a silverly shine and a gold-trimmed head in the unmistakable rectangular prism of her dreams.

“Oh my god, yes.” Trudy snatched the item from ancient hands in disbelief. “How much?”

“No charge, dear.”

Trudy’s skepticism was piqued. She examined the product closely. It looked real enough, though she had never heard of the brand Eros before. But she reasoned that a broken cord is better than no cord, so she accepted the woman’s generosity.

“And love,” the woman called as Trudy boot-camped herself back up the hill. “Do enjoy yourself while you’re here.”

Trudy couldn’t get to the bedroom fast enough. She got on her knees and began to uncoil the cord, wrapping her hands around its broad limb and massaging it until it was long enough to meet her needs. And when its bulbous head entered the tight crevasse, a spark ejaculated from the wall.

As Trudy turned away to connect the other end to her laptop, the wire snaked around her ankle and pulled her to the floor. When her gaze returned, she found the wire slowly curling around her calf, inching ever so slowly up her thigh, its smooth surface tickling each goosebump with the tenderness of a thousand kisses.

Her instincts told her to scream, her rational mind told her she was having a stress-induced hallucination, but her body told her it didn’t fucking matter. And soon fear gave way to intrigue as its golden head burrowed under her skirt and looped around her thong, gently dragging it down her legs. The rest of its slim body swirled around her torso like a whirlwind of ecstasy, unfastening her bra and encircling her breasts, carefully gripping her nipples with the teeth of its grooves and caressing them with unseen tongues.

Trudy reached behind her head and ran her hands across its pulsing body. She saw that so much of it remained untouched—knotted and lonely on the other side of the room. She crawled toward it, undressing herself with each pitter-patter of palm and knee, until she was nothing more than supple skin and wire.

She placed the tangled cable in her mouth, biting one end and tugging the other. Little by little, she brought her lover to its full length. She worked out its kinks as it explored hers, tying her wrists to the bronze posts that imprisoned her bed. 

For once, she wasn’t in control.

Eros hooked its slack under her chin and forced her to stare at the ceiling as its near-end wrapped itself around her neck, playfully choking her, and its far-end found her 5G spot. She submitted to its command; she trusted in its pleasure; she begged it to do it all over again.

The cord unspun itself from her body in an upward motion, tossing her onto the mattress. Its strength made her feel small, its touch made her feel safe. Linen sheets danced as Eros shaped itself into a girthy bundle. It teased her with false entry until her impatient giggles and guiding hands begged for the real thing.

They moved together to the rhythm of her pleasure, selfless and unhurried. It was still when she needed it to be. It was savage when she demanded. It was gentle when her body finally ceased to quiver.

The cable wrapped itself around her shoulders as she stared out the window and saw the beauty of the Elikonas mountains for the first time.

When she rose from bed, it recoiled, unplugged itself, and rested by the outlet. Trudy unpacked the rest of her things, but left her business casuals on the floor. She donned a slightly revealing top, a bikini bottom, and a thin sarong that stopped above the knee.

She gave her laptop a long, hard stare. Then she gave it her middle finger. She locked it in her suitcase and contemplated never seeing it again.

As she exited the cottage to explore the town, she glanced back at the Ethernet cable. It was void of life, but deep down, she knew, it was somehow begging to be plugged in again. She contemplated blowing it a kiss as she closed the bedroom door, but opted to lift her sarong instead. And for a brief moment, the cable sprang up off the ground.

As she made her way back to the marketplace, she found the old merchant woman navigating her cart through one of the many cobblestone alleyways.

“How was the connection?” the woman asked with a knowing smile.

“Perfect,” Trudy responded. “You wouldn’t happen to have another?”