Tuesday, September 06, 2005

Another day in Hong Kong last year

Last weekend at least brought some form of relief in the form of sex. It was getting too long since I hadn’t had any so, Saturday, I decide to go out on the pull. I arrange to meet a couple of friends down at the Irish bar near Lang Quai Fong. Whisky Jacks is a typical paddy bar. Usual piles of blatantly fake traditional Irish junk nailed to every upright surface, dreadful country music and an over abundance of stools. However the beer is cheap and you can normally find a place where to rest your ass. Also, there is one of those big pull-down screens on which they show the football or the rugby. Today there are no games and the screen has been pulled up out of sight. I glance around to see if I spot anyone I know but apart for the owner and half a dozen old drunks the place is empty. I smile at the former who is behind the bar and he pours me the usual pint of Carlsberg. I take it and maneuver towards a corner in which a table and a couple of stools lay as if abandoned. I sit down, sigh and then light a cigarette. I gulp down a few mouthfuls of cold amber liquid and sigh again. Soon enough the front door opens and one of my mates enters. Christian is Italian, like me. He is a chef and specializes in the upper end of Italian cuisine. At only 24 years old he is surprisingly experienced and is said to have a very promising future ahead of him. The only problem is that he is currently unemployed. He sees me, smiles, and then heads off to the bar where he orders a pint of Guinness, pays and then stars moving towards our table. He smiles again, asks me a question and then sits down. He takes a few gulps and lights himself a smoke as well. Seeing as mine is finished I light up another. We start talking about shit. The usual comforting banter about football and our lack of money.
The front door opens again but it is only another of the endless drunks that parade in to here every afternoon after work. Don’t get me wrong here. These are not your conventional drunks, clutching a can of bitter as they lay on the road covered in their own piss. These are the more socially accepted drunks of our world. All between their forties and sixties, suit and tie, and English. Every day, as the offices close, hundreds of these individuals emerge from their buildings and head for the closest bar. They walk in, reddened eyes scanning the bar for a suitable stool and then waddling gently, their huge and bloated bellies swinging back and forth, they sit and taking their beer from the outstretched arm of their savior behind the bar they drink as though in ecstasy. One gulp, two, three and finally, like cattle quenching their thirst at the river, they lift their heads once more to breath. They will sit on their stool all fucking night until drunk and crying they will make their way back to their five thousand dollar a month flat and pass out on their floor. Sometimes, when they manage to drink a little less, they might even go home to fuck their twenty-year-old Chinese mistress who will comfort them and let them cry on her shoulder. Next morning, impeccable in their business suit they will stride in to their office with only a slight red smudge under each eye as a clue to their drinking the night before.
The door opens again and this time another two of our friends come in. Papic, twenty something year old French man from near the border with Italy and an incredibly fat Indian, Amil. They buy a drink and join Christian and me at the table. Anil hoists his huge ass on to the stool and I watch fascinated fearing, as usual, that the stool will disappear amongst the orgy of flesh and he will find himself sitting on the floor. As usual I push away a feeling of disappointment when this fails to happen. It is not precisely that I do not like Amil but his stickiness and constant beaten puppy eyes annoy me. Papic, on the other hand, is far more independent and lives his life constantly gliding from one job to the other, one city to the next. Currently he is also unemployed but he tells us he has found a job in Shanghai and so will be moving there next week. This news saddens me as I have learnt to like him a lot in the three weeks I have known him. I start thinking about how strange it feels. I have been in Hong Kong so just over a month an yet it feels like I’ve been here a decade at least. I realize someone is asking me something and snap out of my reverie in time to catch the last words of the question. I nod my head and watch Christian as he gets up to go get us another beer.
It is nearly eleven when we leave Whisky Jacks and I am feeling quite drunk already. The humid air hits me face like a sweaty sock and I stumble in to the road. Drunken expats mingle in the street with Chinese families and street vendors and once again I wonder how the locals feel about all these foreign devils, quai loes, invading their land. We catch the escalators and head up towards Staunton’s Bar. The escalator is impressive. It is the longest in the world by far and runs up and down the side of the mountain than makes up Hong Kong. From six in the morning to midnight this two-kilometer long escalator slowly hauls thousand s of people up and down the side of the mountain. I would have never considered moving stairs a form of public transport but here in Hong Kong it is exactly what they are. Innumerable bars line the sides of this novel form of transportation and it is one of these, which we are heading for. We get to the bar and I shudder at the sight of the heaving mass of people sprawled outside the doors. Drunk voices and manic giggling hits my ears like a bucket of warm piss in the face and for a minute I think about going somewhere else, but Christian and Papic are already approaching the doors. I use Anil as a battering ram and, leaving a trail of curses and insults behind me, I push my way to the bar. Staunton’s is one of those trendy bars were the beer is expensive and watered down so I order a glass of whisky, no ice. I look around to spot the reason why we have come to such a fucking place, the girls. I do not understand why you can only find pretty prey in these kind of trendy bars and not in the smoky tranquility of some dodgy Irish bar. Well, actually I do, I just do not feel it is fair.
I notice a group of twenty-year-old beauties at the bar but, seeing as they are all with boyfriends, I keep searching. Finally I spot a table, near the other side of the bar, which might be more promising. Five or six slightly older women sit gossiping avidly obviously drunk. I study them and decide they must be career types out on their Saturday night piss up. They are not that pretty and really a touch too old for me but I spot a space at the bar closer to their table and move there anyway. I ignore them for the time being and instead nurse my drink and watch the crowds melt by. I watch, smiling, as Papic tries to chat up one of the twenty-year old girls who as strayed too far from her group. She looks panicky and finally manages to ditch Papic and rejoin the safety of her herd. I hear a crash and turn around just in time to see a mobile phone skid across the floor and come to a rest near my foot. I bend down and pick it up. One of the career girls I was spying earlier walks towards me smiling with embarrassment and I hand the phone to her. She looks Ok, not particularly good looking but with a nice pair of tits and a pleasant smile. She thanks me and I let her go sit down again but not before I flash her one of my winning smiles. She blushes and as she joins her group again she says something to a friend, which makes her giggle. I ignore them and instead start fantasizing about all the dirty things she could do with those heavy breasts. In the meantime another friend of ours has joined us at Staunton’s. He strolls towards us grinning mischievously and I remember he told us he had a date with some foxy Chinese student tonight. Sure enough he starts telling us all about it but I cant concentrate and stare at his tattoo instead. His whole left arm is covered in lines and colors and right in the middle sits a beautiful Japanese woman staring out at me serenely. Nate, that is the name of the new arrival, is American, which, in the way I see things, is very bad. However he is a nice guy and passionately hates the monkey king Bush so I have decided that he is all right. I order another drink and by now I am quite drunk. My vision blurs noticeably when I move my head and I am having difficulties following the discussion that Christian and Anil are having. I decide to finish my drink and go home to get some sleep.
Suddenly, however, the mobile phone girl and her friend get up and get ready to leave. I feel a moment of disappointment as I see this but then realize that even though she has been smiling at me since the phone incident I haven’t made the slightest effort to make a move. I am already regretting my inaction and getting used to the fact that those wonderful breasts will never see my flat when her friend is stopped by someone who wants to talk to her. This leaves my breasted friend alone and feeling uncomfortable halfway to the front doors. I catch her eye, smile at her and beckon her over. She looks hesitant for a second but then starts walking shyly towards me. I smile at her again, this time adding a promise of sex to the friendly taste. We start chatting a while. She tells me she has been working for some investment firm here in Hong Kong for a couple years and that she is not married. She tells me her name, which I promptly forget. I decide she must be about thirty and realize she is quite drunk. She looks a bit too shy but then she wants to know what I am doing tonight and asks me to come for a drink with her friend in a bar I don’t know in Wanchai. I accept.
Outside she introduces me to her friend Susie and we hail a cab and head to Wanchai. I start checking out Susie and realize she is quite cute. She is English, black and has the foxiest little smile I have seen in a while. I fantasize about bringing them both home for a bit of fun. I visualize a pair of laden, creamy white tits rubbing gently against Susie’s silken ebony thighs and imagine myself coming all over both their faces as they kiss. I ask Susie if she has a boyfriend and she tells me she is newly married. This news kind of dampens my ardor. We get to Wanchai and walk in to some club, which I am sure I have been to already. The place is packed with drunk English and I spot quite a few cute girls. Susie says she has to go find someone so I remain alone with my date. I ask her if she wants a drink and when she answers I go to the bar to get her a gin lemon. I get a whisky for myself. We start chatting for a while but I am getting bored and, seeing as I am quite drunk anyway, ask her bluntly if she wants to come back to my house tonight. She looks a bit uncomfortable but not particularly scandalized so I decide to push my advantage. I take her in my arms and start nibbling on her ear and nuzzling her neck. I feel her loosen and she looks at me and gives a horny little laugh. I can’t resist the temptation and gently squeeze her left breast. It is as heavy and firm as it looks and I am looking forward to the rest of the night. She laughs, brushes my hand of her breast and then grabs my ass. This kind of startles me and I decide that later I will get my revenge. We keep chatting a bit but I am getting bored so I tell her to finish her drink and follow me. She starts to protest, saying that she still doesn’t know if she should or not. I shrug, take her drink from her hand, lay it down on the bar and tell her to follow me. We walk out of the door and flag a cab. I tell the driver to go to N. 2 McDonnell road. The ride is short and neither of us says a word. She smiles but I look away and stare outside at the passing traffic. I have always found cities so much more beautiful at night. Refracted lights and molten steel flowing past the taxi windows like visions. We finally get to my place, walk in to the lift and I hit the button for the twenty-second floor.
I open the door to my flat. Well, flat is not the right word. It is basically a hotel room with a stove jammed in to one of the corners. A sofa and a T.V. are in the opposite corner and the door to the toilet is just beyond. The rest of the room is taken up by a very large double bed. I push her down on to this bed and start kneading those heavy breasts.. She starts to say something but I kiss her on the mouth to shut her up. I take my shirt off and throw it on the floor. She seems surprised and asks something about the tattoo I have on my chest. I answer and then turn around so she can see the dragon on my back and she asks me if I have any more. I stand up and slowly take my jeans and boxers off. I take my eyes off her and look down at a spot just above my knee where the tip of a silver snake starts meandering up leg, wrapping itself around my thigh and then heads, tongue flicking, towards my cock. I look back at the girl sitting on my bed and smile at her. She smiles back and then sits closer so she can take my erect cock in her mouth. I watch her as she sucks and moans and feel a moment of sadness. I close my eyes and decide to enjoy the blowjob instead. I push her off gently and lay her back on to the bed. I tell her to take her clothes off and we exchange places; me on the bed, her standing up at the foot of it. I tell her to take her top off, which she does, and I stop a minute to take in the sight of her heaving breasts. I motion to her to come closer and as she approaches flip her on to the bed underneath me. I take her jeans off followed by her panties, and am surprised when I see she is totally shaved. I part her legs and bury my face in her cunt sucking the wet folds of skin. I hear her moan louder but decide to be a selfish bastard and to relieve my needs instead of hers. I push her on to her back and even though she protests feebly I enter her and start pumping away. I notice the fact that I am quite hungry and start thinking about what my choices for breakfast are tomorrow. She moans a little loader and asks me to stop. I think she wants me to be a bit more understanding, some foreplay maybe even a couple of kisses. I do not like kissing one night stands on the mouth. Like hookers I reserve kissing as an act of love not to be wasted on a simple shag. She starts to protest a little loader and starts to wriggle away. I realize I haven’t even put on a condom so decide to pull out before I come, which I do. I remember her grabbing my ass and decide to get my revenge. I point my cock to her face and bust my load hitting her just above the mouth. I wipe my member on her cheek, turn around and fall asleep as soon as I hit the pillow.
Next morning I wake up as she gets up but I pretend to be still asleep. She goes in to the toilet, I hear water running and then she comes back in to the room. I keep my eyes closed and listen to what she is doing. She gets dressed in total silence, grabs her purse and leaves. I sigh with relief and get up to take a piss. I flush the toilet and then notice she has used my toothbrush. I pick it up and throw it away disgusted. Stupid invasive bitch, why couldn’t she leave last night? I decide to go back to sleep.

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Someone obviously idolises Patrick Bateman slightly too much. Remember, each individual is of themselves of little consequence, whereas a movement can define an era. Originality will also always prove more impressive than a regurgitation of macabre ideas.

10:46 am  

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