Using Ernest’s name doesn’t help matters a bit. I was sent here by a friend, I explain, and I mention Ernest, but she doesn’t know him! So many people are in the shop every day, she suggests politely … I find that I have bought a hanging, a gorgeous thing with dragons to hang on my wall. The cunt smiles and wants to give me a cup of tea … her old man rattles out of the back of the shop and whisks the hanging from under our noses … he’s going to wrap it.
I don’t care for tea, I tell her. I was thinking of going around the corner for a pernod, and I would be charmed if she would accompany me. She accepts! I can’t say a word … I stand gaping like a fish and she trots back through the shop.
She comes back wearing a trick hat that makes her look more Parisienne than the Parisiennes and she carries the package under her arm. I still haven’t invented anything clever to say and our departure out of the shop is made even less graceful by a little bastard of a street urchin who tosses horse turds at us from the gutter. But the cunt has wonderful poise … we march down the street with a grand air and I’m soon at ease …
Questions! She wants to know who I am, what I am, my entire history. Also the matter of my income comes up. I don’t understand what she’s leading up to, but she begins to talk about jade. There is a little trinket, she tells me intimately, which has just been smuggled in, a true gem of the emperors which must be sold for a mere fraction of its worth … and she mentions my month’s salary almost to the sou.
I’m curious. There’s obviously something fishy, and I get the impression that she wants me to understand that she’s shitting me. Where can this stone be seen, I ask. Ah, everything comes to light, then! It’s not safe to have it about the shop, she tells me … so she wears it on a silken cord tied around her waist, where its cool caress on her skin speaks of its safety. The purchase would have to be made in some secluded spot far from the shop …
It’s a wonderful game once I understand how it’s played. This cunt really has imagination about selling her body. But her asking price! I begin to haggle with her and over the third pernod we agree that a week’s salary will be the price of this piece of jade. I’ll have to live on credits until the ghost walks again … I’ve never paid so much for a tail, but this cunt makes it seem to be worth it.
I don’t doubt that she has a French name like Marie or Jeanne, but in the taxi going to my place she coos something that sounds like the piping of a flute …
Bud of Lotus, she translates it, so I call her Lotus. It’s all such a marvelous fraud
…
I add my part to the show. As soon as I have her tucked away in my rooms, I run down to buy some wine from the concierge and serve it in the small green glasses that Alexandra bought for me. Then, when Lotus is to show me the stone, I spread the lovely old hanging on the floor for her to stand on.
The bitch must have played a year in burlesque to learn a strip routine like the one she showed me. Artfully, she leaves her stockings and shoes on after everything else has been tossed off. And there’s a red silk cord around her belly with the piece of jade hanging in her bush. It looks very neat, that little piece of green stone, snuggling into that bit of black. She leaves her clothes heaped on the dragon spread and offers it for inspection …
The stone is the cheapest sort of junk, of course, but it’s what’s under it that I’m interested in. Lotus doesn’t mind when I pay no attention to the thing … she smiles quickly when I pinch her thighs and run my finger between her legs. There is an odor about her that reminds me of the tiny scented cigarettes that Tania used to smoke … she smiles down at me while I sit on the edge of the chair and run my finger into her tail. She says something in Chinese, and it sounds fascinatingly filthy.
I’ve forgotten all of Ernest’s dire warnings by now. With the dong I’ve got I’d probably fuck her even if she did have a dose, and trust to a quick cure … but it’s so fresh smelling and pink that I’m positive everything’s all right … she lets me pull her fig open and sniff at it … then she moves away from me again. She breaks the cord at her waist and drops the stone into my palm.
I fuck her on the floor, right there on my new hanging with a pillow tucked under her head. I won’t let her take off her stockings, not even her shoes. To the devil with the embroidered dragon … if she gouges his black eyes with her heels, if we leave a stain that won’t come off, so much the better for it. I go after her fiercely … a French whore would object to such violence, the biting, the pinches, but Lotus smiles and submits.
Do I enjoy to squeeze her teats roughly? Very well, she presses them into my hands. And if I bruise them with my mouth … she gives me her nipples to bite. I put her hand on my dong and watch her long almond-colored fingers squeeze around it. She murmurs continually … in Chinese. Ah, she knows her business well. Her customers pay well for that spicy breath of the Orient and she knows what it is they buy.
Her legs and belly are quite hairless … it’s only at one spot that the well-kept goatee covers her. Even her ass, the damp skin around her soft cul, is bare. She spreads her legs when I touch her rectum. Her thighs are beginning to feel hot and slippery close to her fig. Her abricot-fendu is almost as small as Tania’s, but it has a more mature feel about it … it seems softer and more open …
John Thursday interests her. She pinches his neck and pulls his whiskers. I stop feeling her up and she sits cross-legged between my knees to play with him.
Her con splits open like some ripe and rich fruit, and her stockinged thighs press against my knees. The stockings and shoes provide an anomalous touch that I like.
I couldn’t tell by looking at her whether she was excited or not. But that damp patch around her silky muff gives her away. It spreads and shines between her thighs, and the smell of cunt slowly cuts through the odor of the scent she uses.
She pats John Thursday’s head and tickles my balls. Soon she’s stretched out full length between my legs with her nose pushing along my dick and into my bush … her hair is blue-black, straight and shiny …
I don’t know what they teach their women in the Orient … perhaps cocksucking is neglected there, but Lotus has had native French teaching. Her tongue curls into my hair and smooths against my balls. She licks my dong, kisses my belly with her flat lips … her slanting eyebrows arch together when she opens her mouth and bends to let John Thursday poke his head in … her eyes are wild slits. Her arms slip around me and her teats are warm against my balls as she sucks me off.
I scramble over her … she sits up with my dong still in her mouth, still sucking it, but I push her flat and crawl down to her open crotch. I rub her bush with my cheek and my chin, tickle her bonne-bouche with my tongue. I lick her thighs and even the flat crease between them … I want only to feel her thighs close and draw me in, pull my mouth to that deep-split fig. I throw both arms around her waist and pinch her ass while I lick the cunt juice from her skin and from the spread mouth that offers itself. Quickly she throws herself upon me. Her conillon presses my lips and her legs are weak and open. Her juice drips into my mouth while I suck the hairy tail.
She seems to tremble when she feels my tongue in her cunt. She can’t think of enough things to do to my dong in return … she bites it, licks my balls, does everything but swallow the whole works. She even pulls her fig further apart with her fingers, until I have my tongue so far in that it must be tickling her womb.
Suddenly there’s a flood. She’s come, and she almost bites my prick in two. I let her fuck my mouth with her juicy thing …
I want to see what she looks like, what she’ll do when John Thursday blows up in her teeth … I lie on my back again and watch her work over him. Her head rises and falls slowly. The look of surprise … She’s found something warm coming into her mouth. Then her slant eyes close. She swallows and sucks, swallows and sucks …
The Chinese, I’ve been told, or I’ve read
