The brilliant multicolored nightlights played on his senses as he strolled out of the noisy bar and onto the busy street. Forty long days at sea surrounded by shades of gray had finally given way to this bustling Asian port and he was now more than ready to cast his fate to the four winds for the night. Although inadvertently separated from his crewmates earlier in the evening, he was undaunted in his revels as he was somewhat of a loner by nature and had never found reason to fear anyone. A taxi swerved over and splashed to a stop in front him as the aging, partially toothless driver leaned out and mumbled something he didn't understand. Smiling, he waved the driver off and turned towards the heart of town, hypnotized by the flashing colors that danced off the puddles on the newly rain washed street and mesmerized by the sing-song conversations that swirled through the evening air. He never saw her approach.
"How about dinner an' a fuck'" came the sweet voice of the girl that now stood beside him.
"That's my line," he quipped in surprise as his eyes meet the opaque pools of hers. He silently noted that her smiled revealed the most even, beautiful teeth he had ever encountered; and her shiny long black hair reflected the city's aura like a halo. She has a lovely countenance for a middle-aged prostitute, he thought to himself as he began to turn from her.
"C'mon sailor," she urged, "Have dinner wit' me - I'll buy!"
"Is that all that's in if for me," he goaded, momentarily halted by her persistence.
"I give you da ride of your life too," she offered, persistently.
"Let me think on that," he returned as he strolled away, picking up his pace as the distance between the two widened. He didn't really feel like settling into her charms as the evening was still young and he thought he'd seen several other younger working girls further up the busy street standing just outside a club whose entrance was guarded by a neon dragon.
As he entered the club, he was all but mugged by the girls waiting therein. Either they had never seen a sailor before, or business had really been ugly for the past several years. They began grabbing for his crotch unmercifully while cooing sucky fucky overtures that would entice only the most desperate souls. He was taken aback and stumbled backwards back onto the busy street with both hands in his pockets protecting his over ripe assets. Dazed, he turned back towards from whence he came only to realize that he was no longer sure where that could be. A slight prick of panic crept across his chest as he focused his eyes carefully in a futile effort to locate a familiar landmark. But all he saw was his rejected dinner date standing several yard in front of him with her hands on her hips and that damned disarming smile stretching across her face. She slowly approached him with her eyes fixed on his.
"You lookin' for me, sailor?"
He made a snap decision, figuring she could help him back to the ship when their encounter was over and reached his hand out to her. She grasped it firmly; her delicate fingers curling around his securely. Without a word, she led him across the busy street and down a dark alley to an obscure flight of wooden stairs. She felt his hesitancy, and gently coaxed him on with a reassuring squeeze of her hand. Once on the third level, she reached inside her brassiere and withdrew a single shiny key that she opened the old creaking door with. She flipped on the light, threw her coat onto an old wooden table, and winked at him as if she was quite proud of herself.
"Tea, or me," she purred.
"Both," he returned in a broken voice. Still somewhat overwhelmed by the events that brought him to this small one room dwelling, he surveyed its well-worn and meager contents. The bed, next to a semi-obscure widow that was opened into the drafty alleyway, had seen much better days with the thick moth-eaten comforter barely masking the telltale slump in the middle of the mattress. The bathroom next to the bed reeked of stagnant water, and bore a small cracked mirror above the cracked sink as its only decor. The kitchen, located straight across from the foot of the bed housed a small refrigerator that sounded like a blender and a counter-top gas stove barely visible under the mountain of worn tin pans. The walls were cracked and eroding plaster with brown colored streaks where the rain had found a path from the wallpapered ceiling to the barren wood floor. A small table under the only bare light bulb in the entire dwelling rounded off room's meager decor. From the small sink in the bathroom, the telltale sign of a leaking faucet resounded through the thin-walled room and out to the street below in an aggravating monotone.
His host brushed the pans away from one of the burners unsympathetically, and drew some water from a small plastic pail on the floor, then hummed to herself in a melancholy oriental song as she lit the burner with matches from nowhere. Once she adjusted the small blue flame, she turned and winked at him before disappearing into the bathroom behind the termite riddled door that would only forcibly close. He sat on the bed that protested vehemently under his thin frame and reached over to a small wooden cabinet to fondle a small cracked ashtray with a picture of a WWII battleship taped on the bottom. He began to absently reflect on the night - the mayhem a mere block away, and the meager existence reflected in the four walls that surrounded him. It was strange, that someone with her looks was barely existing despite the wages she snatched from her trade.
She emerged from the dripping room in a petite white teddy that barely concealed the neatly trimmed bush that he had come to invade. His arousal became evident almost immediately not only because of the "feast or famine" sexual diet the military service forced upon him, but because of the deliciously frail, beautifully tanned woman that now stood shyly before him. Everything from her shiny long hair to her delicately manicured toenails reflected unspoiled femininity. Her lithe tanned legs jutted from the hem of her nightwear in a study of contrasts between unblemished sensuality and artificial eroticism. The firm ripples of her muscles beneath her flawless skin attested to her conditioning and enduring youth. Her small pert breasts were crowned with small erect raisins. Waltzing past him gingerly, she floated into the kitchen and prepared his tea as he gawked at her assets; transfixed by her pristine beauty. Returning to his side, she handed him the small chipped china cup filled with fragrant tea and locked her eyes on his as she sat next to him and seductively crossed her legs. His eyes slowly consumed her delicacies as he nervously took his first sip of the delicious herbal tea. Within moments the tranquilizer had taken its effect on his nervous system and, with a guiding nudge, he fell over backwards onto the bed.
.... There is more of this story ...