Shanghai Nostalgia Chapters 4 – 6

CHAPTER 4

It was just a 5 minutes taxi ride to the KTV, and yes, the party was well in progress. Dices kept getting lost by half-pissed assholes trying to repeat the mummy’s neat trick of stacking the dices in a swirling cup. The girls’
tits have been milked by more hands than a cow on a New Zealand farm and now even the KJ was not spared. Despite her shrieks, I suspect she enjoyed it.

This particular KJ is a looker. Although she tried to dress down to ‘avoid’ the attention, the company-issued uniform was not helping any. It’s designed to reveal cleavages, and thighs. All of us dirty old men would love
to ejaculate in her, seriously, and had on many occasions half jesting professed our lust for her. She had brushed us off gracefully but the game goes on, none of us considered the night complete without making a lewd suggestion to her.

Loud laughter greeted me as I stepped in the rather large room. It was gaudily décor’d with an Egyptian theme. King Tut’s mask in a recessed glass panel, wallpaper of hieroglyphs, gold linings, red and green striped cushions,
well, the works. Several pairs of BMG speakers adorned the ceilings, I suspect catering to special clients so inclined for chemical alternatives. The main action, from which direction the loudest laughter and protests came from, was being played
out by X, whose flushed whiskey-soaked face was now buried between a pair of luscious creamy knockers. The owner of the pair was loudly protesting his face scratched and could he go shave his face in the attached bathroom, which immediately prompted
unsolicited help to soothe the discomfort from several quarters.

The KJ got up and as is customary for our group, air-mua’d me both sides of the cheek (we had insisted if she were to serve us). By the time she bid us goodnight, the distance would narrowed and her generous buttocks would be squeezed
and appreciated many times over. She poured me a drink. 2 fingers, I instructed, 1 finger of water, 2 cubes of ice. I poured it down the gullet and handed her the empty glass. The same, Baobei. It would take at least another 2 to rid the ache
in my balls.

Mummy came in just then. ‘XXX laoban’, she’s getting to be such a good actor I almost felt missed, ‘why are you so late? Here, have a drink with me before I bring you your baobei’.

She’s a character, Mummy, she is. We all agreed we came to this KTV as much for her as the girls it employed. She’s fun, never fails to offer discount no matter how many times it is rejected, and provided service beyond reproach.
For us, she had gotten rid of the excess baggage in the room – there used to be an ‘assistant' KJ, and a young man who does nothing but replaces ice, water and generally a sad fucking excuse to soak up tips. We’re not
scrooges, but don’t take kindly to being taken for suckers, besides, he takes up space. Mummy's a divorcee, in her early 30’s, pretty, she’s too damned sharp to succumb to any of us old coots without any promise, no,
evidence of rock solid security.

My mobile vibrated. It was Xiao Qing. I went into the next empty room to take it. ‘Baobei, what are you doing now?’ Oh, we’re baobei’s now are we? ‘Nothing much, thinking of you. I’m sorry to have
offended you but you have to understand. I am man and we are driven by animal instincts. Please forgive me’. The mind games start now, and the chase is on. I love it.

I’m a man of few words, especially so on the phone, which translated to, according to quite a few of my female acquaintances, ‘unromantic’. Coupled this with a tiny tuff of hair on my chest, it is irrefutable evidence
that I am heartless. Nothing I say will change their opinion an iota. Just because I never fail to heap praise on her ‘O, you’re fucking beautiful!’ during the throes of ecstasy doesn’t mean I find them unattractive
at other times. Just because I’ve never say ‘I love you’ to any of them doesn’t really mean I don’t. It’s just that the word LOVE means pink, laces, Prince, Cinderella, bridal to the girls while it’s
sweat, hard, cum, lust, to us guys, and I’ll not be the one to mislead. Friend once told me an anecdote of bride and bridegroom, they look at each other lovingly as they exchange their vows, the bridegroom prays she’ll stay the same
forever, but we all know she’ll transform to a old nag come the 2 kids; as for the bride, he smokes, he farts and scratches his balls when he thought no one is looking, she’ll try her godamnest to change him. With such conflicting
fundamentals it is a surprise divorce rates are not escalating more.

‘Baobei, I’m a little tired and there’s a meeting first thing in the morning so I’ll talk to you again tomorrow, alright? I will dream of you’, trying to sound as downtrodden as a man can not getting his
rocks off the first date. She should learn her hands-off policy can bring guilt. Besides, I want to get back to the fun. Bye, goodnight, kiss, kiss.

Mummy has assembled a lineup waiting for my approval. All bowed in unison and greeted me as I make my way back to my seat. Hmmm… not bad at all, as usual. A familiar face there, she flashed her teeth hoping for a repeat. If I remembered
correctly, she had asked for a ‘small’ tip equivalent to a third of the going price for a quickie. That in itself was not unreasonable had she been more receptive to a CIM. Nah, I’ll pass.

As I scanned up and down the lineup, I spied on a girl with uncharacteristically dark features. Her complexion was fair enough, and you won’t mistake her for anything but Oriental, but there’s something I just can’t pin
my fingers on. Was it her raven black hair, or the Madonna-inspired eyebrows that had all the Ah-Lians sporting thick pencil-drawn mustache above the eyes? Or was it that her eyes were slightly more deep-set than the average Chinese? I was intrigued.
I turned to Mummy and nodded. Mummy called out, ‘Alisha”. The rest of the girls bowed and filed out of the room. Alisha sat down, without a word held my arm, and rested her cheek for a moment on my shoulder in a gesture of thanks.

It turn out she’s from Xinjiang, so that might explain her exotic DNA. Her family had migrated to Beijing when she was very young and as far as they are concerned, she’s working for a MNC in Shanghai. In fact she was, until
she discovered a ethnic minority background puts one way down on the pecking order in Han dominated China, and all the more so here in Shanghai. The locals’ disdain for non-Shanghainese is well-known. For example, a friend’s PA,
from Tianjin, was tasked with liaising with the necessary government departments to secure approvals, authorizations and licenses. After a year of given the piss, she left in frustration. My friend, on the advice of his accountant, then hired
a Shanghainese, who got everything up and running in 3 months. The new PA even managed to get the officials to accept the company’s bribes, offered previously but subtly rejected.

In any case, Alisha decides Fucks! to this and started working part-time as a KJ, and discovered that hostesses earned more in a month than she did in the MNC in a year. It did not take much to convince her a change of career will do her
a world of good both morale-wise as well as financially. And so she exchanged her blue blazer for a evening gown cut that screamed Skin, Tits, Legs. Tonight she had swept her hair to her left, so much like Zhang Zhong Wen. If you don’t
who she was, ask your father, just make sure Mom’s not around. I like.

Close-up, Alisha looks even better. I swear her eyes’ green seen from a certain angle. She kept her dainty hand not an inch away from my cock, tucked as usual to the left, where the hand was so tantalizing close. Playing bluff with
the girl sitting to my right, There was electricity every time I leaned forward to scoop up the dice. Jeez! A few more scoops and I’ll get hard. It’s not possible, in spite of her calm demeanor, for her to be completely oblivious
to a hard-on fractions of an inch away, the heat alone fry the skin off.

I can’t take 2 blue-balls in a night, I was so tune-up I could stuff my shaft between her Xinjiang lips right now. When Mummy came in, I beckoned her.

Does she do takeout?

She’s new but I’ll ask.

I excused myself and went to the attached bathroom. Mummy was smiling when I came back, so was she.

Why did you take such a long time?

I insinuated it all had to do with her, that I have to clean myself up because it’s such a mess there. She punched me in the arm and I hugged her and stayed that way, her back to me, my arms around her middle, just below her oh-so-soft
breasts. My nose bled. She whispered in my ear, all is arranged, and proceeded to clean my ear out with her talented tongue.

We called it a night, everyone had a good time, we always do, and promised to do it again next weekend. 2 of the boys had companions on their arms, the other 2 begged off, meeting tomorrow, you know.

She looked even more stunning out of her gown, I mean in her street clothes. Red blouse, faux leather jacket, black tapered pants with lots of metal studs accentuated her long slim legs. A large red beret was strategically tilted on her black
wavy hair. Glamorous, is how I would describe her, head turner even. Damn, she fucking makes me look old in comparison.

What takes a taxi nearly an hour in rush hour to get from where we were in downtown Puxi took only a little under 15 minutes to my humble pad I called home in the shopping district of Pudong. A 5 minutes walk across the road stands the spanking
Times Square, not to be mistaken for the Times Sq in Puxi. On the other side of the road is Ba Bai Ban (8 and a half hundred?), Chinese for the No. 1 Yaohan Department Store, banks, the local Hualian Dept Store. A little away are scores of condos,
with more in various stages of construction, 5 stars hotels, and parks. Liujiazui is a 5 minutes taxi away is Liujiazui, the financial district, where the awe-inspiring Jinmao towers.

My pad is on the ‘poor’ side of the road, 4 blocks of 22 storey high, grey, nondescript government-built fire-traps one find all over China. I would explain to all who care to listen I love this place for its appeal, and what
is there not to find appealing. The neighborhood has all the DVD stores to keep me occupied come the cold winter evenings when my female companions are otherwise preoccupied; small cosy restaurants where the staff knows my favorite dishes, and
more than a few ‘barbershops’ if I were so inclined. And yes, there are also 2 sex shops within 2 kilometer radius.

These sex shops sell sex aids, from condoms of various flavors,colors and textures, to knockoff Viagra, Cialis, Panagra; from blowup dolls to wiggly silicon phallus with twin external stimulators to 9-inch boomerang-shaped monsters designed
to reach that G-spot. Most of these shops are little more than a hole in the wall but the slightly bigger ones also display lingerie for sale, laced bras with peaks cut off, crotchless panties, garters, gloves. I want to believe these shops are
state licensed to educate the people in the fundamentals of sex as much as I do our government’s move to increase GST was to ‘help the poor’.

My apartment is 500 sq. ft., take or give, with the living room and bedroom taking the lion’s share of space, leaving enough for 2 equally-sized standing room only bathroom/toilet and kitchen. The bare essentials were supplied by the
landlady – hot/cold aircons, fridge, microwave, stoves, washing machine even some crockery and basic kitchen utensils, a 20 inch TV, and best of all, a queen-size bed with a decent mattress. I have seen better décor’d apartments
during my search but the rent for this left me enough change for the utilities and a couple of bottles of whiskies, and it’s within walking distance to the office, and of course, its appeal.

And so it was at this auspicious hour of 2.30 in the morning that I welcomed this comely young lady into my home away from home. She plonked herself down on the 2-seater sofa, tastefully covered by a shawl bought from those roadside Tibetan
vendors, to hide the awful vinyl that had worn away from overuse.

'You want a glass of wine while I take a quick shower, love?' I asked.

I kept several bottles of cheap Chinese wine at the ready, as well as a crate of RMB35 a bottle beer which I had the storekeeper carried up to my pad.

'No, thank you. I don’t drink but for the job'. I suspect she’s Muslim but the Muslims in Xinjiang don’t seem repulsed to alcohol as I had made Muslims out to be. Hell, Xinjiang produces their own brand of beer
and spirits. Although Xinjiang is predominantly Muslim, the dear Chairman had 'encouraged' the emigration of the masses, mainly people deemed intellectuals, so every province has its fair share of dilution. Anyhow, I love their dark
beer although their spirit still taste of diesel.

I changed into my silk robe, a present from another sweetie from last winter, naked underneath, It felt smooth and very arousing and I walked out to the bathroom with a small tent. She giggled. Under the shower now, I shouted out to invite
her in. In a while the door slid open and she came in the steam clouded wrapped in a towel. I had switched the dim light from the ceiling heater on instead of the main one. She put on a shower cap I always kept hanging on a sucker hook so the
girls can’t miss them, much like new toothbrushes. She hanged the towel and stepped in the 3 by 3 cubicle. Holy crap! She’s beautiful, and what a rack. I embraced her and the lubrication the foam afforded really felt so erotic a
gasp escaped my lips I was already hard enough to pierce a telephone directory. I jammed my tongue down her throat and she returned the passion with equal ardor, lash for lash, bite for bite. Still chewing her lips, I squeezed some body wash and
spread it over her back, her breasts. Her nipples were hard and extended and from her moan, sensitive to the touch. I spread the foam downwards, to what I felt was a absence of pussy hair, her mound, and her crack which was now slippery from her
pussy juice. I slid a finger and feathered her now swollen clitoris like a butterfly’s wings. She would have collapsed on the floor had I not been clasping her with my other hand. We let the water washed away the suds, break off the kiss
and couldn’t wait to get to the bedroom.

Stickman's thoughts:

It might not be Thailand, but very enjoyable nonetheless!