Humpday Essay – Mr. Downtown Chinaman

15 Sep

The typical waiting period for a guy to make it from the door to the inside of the parlor where he can see us ladies line up was unusually long.
3 chinese men all wearing black approach, speaking exclusively chinese.
The eldest Chinese gentleman explains, “my friends do not speak english, what do we do?”

The hostess explains that he can accompany his friend into a girls room to do the translation in terms of negotiating prices .

I am the only one who gets picked. This gentleman is small with a buzz cut, wearing a  black blazer, black v neck, black shoes, and black belt, white beltbuckle. I have never seen black clothing so lint free.

We go back to negotiate.
Times like this make me really wish I had studied up on Rosetta Stone.
As they are talking back and forth amongst each other after I give them
my initial prices, I ponder what brothels in China must be like, and what the cultural differences are of there compared to here. I figure, “ahh, I am about to find out.”

My initial price I quote is too high.
I tell the old man to tell  his young friend,
we get tested every week and the house
takes half of everything we get. This is why it costs so much.

When the young man pulls out his money,
I escort the older gentleman out and gesture
for the young man to wait in my room.

The young man comes back and says “Beautiful!”
Ok. He knows one english word.
I try to gesture that he needs to drop his pants and boxers so I can inspect his wang for aids n’ stuff. The word “Aids” does not compute to him.
So I move him manually into the light and make him stop.
Make him wait, have to do all the work.
The wang looks clean!
I give him the thumbs up.
I point to my invisible watch to indicate I’ll be back shortly.

After the money is given to the cashier and I am back in the room….
once again, he says, “Beautiful! Thank you!”

Its clear that this Chinese man is a boob man.
Not just a boob man, a boob POLISHER.
If my boobs were brass, the way he was touching them,
they’d be shiny by now.

I find it strange that he thinks this can possibly feel good to any woman.
The tempo and the speed of how he touches skin is fast and like he’s polishing a statue.

He’s also a nipple biter.
I also find it odd that he doesn’t think that the pressure of his biting is fucking painful.

A word he understands? GENTLE!
Good thing.

Once we move on to the sex part,
he does yet ANOTHER THING that’s uncomfortable.
He digs his fingernails into my ass cheeks.

AGAIN, I wonder…“doesn’t he know this is painful to me?”
I don’t feel like hitting him.
I want to take in the full cultural experience.
So I endure.

My skin is somewhat red in certain areas.

I feel like I know how its done in China now.


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