In "Room Service" I told of how I arrived in the city, then tried, travel weary and unable to sleep I ordered a room service massage. The massage turned out to be rather more than I have first bargained for, and for the masseuse as well...
*
I had been in this city for four days now. I haven't yet named this particular city, as that would be indiscreet of me. The events I relate couldn't possibly have happened here, at least that would be the official view. This is a fine, clean and moral city, so say the official guide books, but read the unofficial guides and you will get a different version of the truth.
My job was going well, but still, I had managed only to get very little time to my self, as the hours when I was not working or sleeping were filled with drinking and socializing with my workmates. Such is the nature of my work, we are itinerants, well paid and often accommodated in expensive hotels, but itinerants none the less. We travel from city to city, wherever the job takes us, working hard and often with little or no opportunity to socialise outside our own group. Far from home, I was growing tired of this all male environment. I craved some space of my own and some congenial female company.
It was my quiet time of day. That short space between finishing work and going out for the evening's drinking. A time to rest, time to get out of sweaty work clothes, to shower and to change into something more suitable for an evening out.
I had showered, and was relaxing in the air-conditioned comfort of my room. I had rediscovered Anna's card tucked safely away in my wallet and I was turning it over in my hands. I shall call her Anna, as that was the name, Anna Cheng, neatly printed on the front of the card she had presented me at our first meeting three days ago. I had no reason to doubt that this was her name as it was an official hotel business card, with, as well as her name, the hotel's logo, and the extension number of the hotel's health club printed upon it. What was unofficial and delightful about this small piece of pasteboard was the hand written note with its three kisses and her personal mobile phone number on the back.
I remembered her firm and accommodating body, her squeals and cries of delight as I teased and pleasured her, and yes, the taste of her. The, albeit hurried, but glorious way she had first teased, then pleasured me. It was an easy decision. I picked up the phone and dialled her number.
She answered after just a few rings, she must have recognised the hotel number on the caller display as she answered in English, obviously not her first language.
I introduced myself,
"Hello, it's your special nice man in room 1648 do you remember me?"
There was a pause, then a giggle.
"Ah yes, you like more special nice massage?"
I just loved the sound of her voice and the funny Pigeon English she spoke.
"Yes, definitely!"
"So sorry, working now, but we meet in bar later maybe?"
She told me the name of a bar. I knew it well. It was the very same bar my workmates and I have been frequenting these last few days.
"Yes, I would like that, but not that bar, another one perhaps?"
She told me the name of another bar and its address and we arranged to meet at ten o'clock. A little late I thought, I still had to work the next day, but other thoughts, horny thoughts, overrode that objection.
"Good, I'll see you later then, I'm looking forward to it."
I ended the call.
I found the address she had given me on a street plan of the city, always a useful companion, it was not as close to the hotel as the first place she had mentioned, but still an easy walk.
I noticed the time. I dressed and hurried out of my room. I had other things to do before my rendezvous with Anna.
I had caught up with my workmates at the usual bar; we had a few beers and then something to eat. After we had eaten they suggested moving on to a karaoke bar, but I saw that time was getting tight for me and I didn't want to be late for my date. So saying I was tired and I was going back to the hotel for an early night. I made my exit.
I was a few minutes late arriving at the bar at which we had arranged to meet, the walk had been longer than I had expected. Anna was already there, sitting at a table on the pavement terrace sipping a drink. She spotted me first and gave a discreet little wave and stood up from the table. As I approached she made a little bow in greeting. Such formality is strange to me, but these formalities were deeply engrained in her culture, this was the correct way to behave. I accepted that, and responded to her with a smaller bow of my own.
She was smartly dressed, not overtly sexy, but very appealing to my eyes. Her short skirt and high-healed shoes showed off her shapely legs to their best advantage. Her tight little top accentuated her modest curves and the v-neckline showed just a tantalising hint of cleavage.
We sat, facing each other, and struggled to make polite small talk. When a waitress appeared at our table, I ordered a beer for myself, and another coke for her. I was desperate to reach out and touch her, to pull her into my arms, feel her petite body pressed close to mine, but here was too public, that kind of behaviour would embarrass and shame her. I would have to wait a little longer.