Chapter 2

I have found that when I look back on that afternoon with self-proclaimed Duchess Lancaster drinking iced tea and play backgammon was a memory I kept on the back burner just to savor in moments of loneliness. I had paid my debt for losing by devouring her fully shaven snatch and we spent an enjoyable evening getting up close and personal sweating inside the mosquito netting provided by the famous hotel.

She had surrendered every last outpost of feminine defensive positions to me at that first encounter and I enjoyed overwhelming her final lines of defense and taking all she possessed with absolutely nothing held back in hidden reserve. I didn’t see her for a long time after that but we ran across each other in Manila on a hot summer night when everyone was wearing white just to survive the heat. She was definitely looking a bit older, but I guess I was as well, and we took up right where we left off with perhaps the difference of taking longer to recover between rounds like sparring partners with the benefit of knowing our mutual weak points.

I lost an entire weekend in Manila on that trip but I never regretted it.

She was on her way to Hong Kong and assured it was “only business” and I never had the balls to inquire that that meant. I figured that as long as she never asked me any questions, it was only proper that I responded in kind.

I heard through the back channel grapevine that she met an unfortunate demise in Hong Kong in a Pizza Parlor that was a bit more than a restaurant catering to the tourist crowds near the plush hotels. I forget the name of the place but it really wasn’t important. I had an urge to discover who did it and why she was targeted in that odd place at a time when nothing was stirring in the winds of covert activities unless you consider the constant North Korean affair more real than comic.

In a sense, I was more depressed than angry because I was not involved and had no desire to get involved in something outside my tiny area of operations just as a matter of simple survival and staying safely in the background.

When the desk clerk asked me for the one hundredth time if,

“Does Mister want pretty girl to massage in room?”

I found myself nodding my head in assent because it seemed like a good way to get my mind off the thought of the attractive woman being blown to bits in a silly Pizza Parlor.

The knock of the door caught me coming out of the shower with only a towel around my middle.

“It is the massage girl you ordered, Sir. I can come back if you are busy now.”

I opened the door and was surprised when an absolutely tiny wisp of a female with long black hair swept into the room carrying what looked like a rolled up mattress and a shopping bag filled with her gear. It really looked like she was ready for business and the massage angle was not just an excuse to get me naked on my back.

“How much for an hour, Miss... ?”

She looked up at me and I was relieved to see she was in the area of twenty years old and not some underage thing because of her tiny size. That was still a cardinal sin in my organization and usually the most dangerous way to get fired on an overseas assignment. The girl was wearing one of those work outfits the young service girls favored that covered them from shoulders to the ankles but were tight enough to show that they were wearing absolutely nothing underneath and that their generally slender nicely curved figures were well-fed and ready for horizontal action.

“My name is Yoyo and I am a contract girl for the hotel. All health papers and documents are in order.

The hotel rate is fifty an hour and one hundred for the three hour special.

If you change your mind and want three hour service, we can make change with no problem.

How do you want me to do you?

You like hard or soft?”

When she asked that last question, Yoyo pulled off her full length dress and showed me her heavy black bush and aroused nipples like an advertisement of future services. I am ashamed to confess that my business was immediately brought to full attention and she giggled nervously because it was a bit oversized for a male of my size.

“You turn over now. Yoyo do back first. You will like too much.”

I obediently reclined on my tummy and her tiny hands went straight to my dimpled ass cheeks cupping them and kneading them like she was getting ready to make some bread for a large family.

It was sheer heaven because the girl had magic in her fingers and she knew just when to move them and just how deep she could go without causing me any discomfort. I had to hump my backside up a few times to allow my cock to breath and she took advantage of that to reach underneath and cautiously run her delicious hands all over my family jewels and even wet the tips of her fingers on my slowly seeping pre-cum.

At that point it was all a one-way street of lust and I was the one getting the cream.

Then, I felt the weight of her naked female body on my spine and I knew she was getting off with her wanton movements because she shuddered into a convulsive quake that signaled her obvious orgasm from the contact of our skin rubbing in all her sensitive spots. I had this insane urge to spank her harshly for being a bad girl even though I was thoroughly enjoying her “badness” and hoped she would show me the full extent of the depths of her infinite depravity.