Chapter 11: Reveling with Richard.

"Ahh..." Muffled moans could be heard from the initial room I was at with Elaine. The party at Gerald's Penthouse has just ended, and just as the crowd dispersed, the sounds of pleasure making grew increasingly louder as I approached the room.

My lipstick slipped from the clutch, and I just had to retrieve it. The warm rosy hue of the lipstick color was my absolute favorite, and I was positive it dropped out whilst I was in Elaine's room. The moans were almost arousing to hear as I tread lightly. The door was shut, but not locked. I turned the doorknob lightly - Unsure about whether knocking would be the better idea. The front lounge was empty. They were probably in the karaoke area at the back.

I tried my luck searching the front lounge but to no avail. I knew it had to be on the booth chairs in the karaoke area. A red velvet drape was all that separated them from my sight. I pressed my back against the wall and sneaked a peek from the gap formed by the curtain hanging an inch away from the wall. I saw a pair of bare legs, with panties pulled down right to her ankles. Her tiny buttocks indicated that the woman was slim.

My brain was telling me to just drop the hunt and head home, but the erotic atmosphere lured me like vile serpents and beat my conscience hands down. Thank god the lights were dimmed. I lifted the curtain an inch further. There were 3 of them. And one of them was Elaine. Her Lanvin dress had their straps pulled down in a disorientated fashion as though it was done with haste and clumsiness. Her taut breasts spilled out from the top, her nipples were perky and in an arousing shade of brown.

I could only make out the shape of the man's arm around the skinny girl's waist as she got down on fours. Elaine, with her panties hanging desperately to the straps of her heels was puckering at the skinny girl's nipple, her hands grabbing at the tiny lumps and rubbing the free teat that was standing - or at least I believed it probably was. The lack of light made it hard for me to get a clear picture even after my Lasik.

The moans heightened as I witnessed the skinny girl taken in doggystyle. The man's arms were grabbing her hips tight as her body shook violently. She was almost screaming as Elaine continued her role, her lips never once did let go of the nipple. Elaine's left hand slid down to caress her own breast, grabbing at the firmness  as her lips parted to let out soft, sophisticated moans.

Then, I spotted my lipstick. It was nestled in between the wedges of two cushions, right at the skinny girl's knees. The way things were heated at that moment, I knew it was impossible and rude, even, to barge in or disturb the trio in any way. I let loose of the curtains, and turned to leave. Just as I walked into the front lounge and out of the room, I realized that my panties were wet. It was so bad that I had to rush to the restroom to clean the juices before heading home.

The scene never left my head that night - and somehow, the dark side of me wanted to try it so bad... a threesome. And just my luck, Kevin was in Cary's room that night. It was a rare occasion since Cary always apologized for staying over at Kevin's so often that I joked she should just let me have ownership of her house. Cary's muffled moans could be heard from through the wall as Kevin made love to her.

I felt the sore, angry ache from my pussy as I tried to get to sleep. I needed a man so bad.


It was finally Friday. Thursday was such a drag for me as I forced myself to sit through the classes. I went to Velvet Kiss early, which astounded everyone since I was always late. I sat on my stool in the powder room in solitude. Tiffany was not there yet.

"You are very special to me, Violette. And there's someone I would love for you to meet ... and strappy heels please." Gerald's words echoed in my head, sending frantic pulses from my heart to all parts of my body. Who could it be? 

Taking my time, I applied my make up, more carefully than ever. I pulled out my drawer, and found a barely used lipstick in temptress red. The color went across my lips like silk, and instantly brightened my whole face. I dabbed a soft shimmery lip gloss over to complete the look. My lips look pouty, alluring and kissable. 

I tried to visualize the feel of a man's hand on my collarbone, his index finger gliding across, before sliding down to my breast, circling it deliberately slow, teasing the aerola surrounding my nipple. I unbuttoned my blouse and took off my bra, staring into the mirror at my half naked reflection, my mind whipped away into a surreal world of secret fantasies. 

I could feel juice seeping out from below. My fingers reached into my cotton shorts and touched the wet fabric of my panties. My nether lips shivered in paralyzing excitement as I dipped my fingers slightly into my pussy. I sat still for awhile whilst my fingers stroked the walls - and then I stopped. I wanted to save the pent up hunger... for something, someone better. Instead, my fingers went across the nape of my neck, the delicate skin behind my ears and in the middle of my cleavage, smearing them with juice. I read somewhere the scent of it heightens arousal in men. 

Just as I got up to make my way to the wardrobe, Tiffany entered the room with bed hair and oversized t-shirt. "Rushing somewhere?" I laughed as I went forward to take her bag, the slight draught from the corridor caused my nipples to stand so hard it felt sore. Depositing her bag into our lockers, I stripped down to just my panties as Tiffany turned to close the door behind us. I was still wet. Lucky for me, I was armed with a pantyliner, and it was not too bad. I changed into a fresh piece in our toilet as I heard Tiffany fumbling over her make up.

She blabbered about some China client who wanted to buy her a car as I flipped through my wardrobe, wondering what to wear. I finally locked eyes with a deep red mesh dress. A deep V slit down the middle was covered with mesh, as well as cut-outs at the waist, and the entire back area. Soft adorable drapes hung at the hips in a perplum fashion. I got it on sale from Ms Selfridge and never really found a fitting occasion for it.

I put on a nu-bra and proceeded to wriggle into the tight red number. The polyester stretched across my chest and hips, and was perfectly clinched at my waist as the zip zoomed up with a merry "zzzzzzzZ!" sound. I threw on the thigh high stockings that were so well-liked by Gerald and clipped them to my lace garters. Rolling down the dress, I readjusted everything to ensure they were appropriately set for my performance that night.

Truckloads of sea spray went across my hair as I scrunched at the roots for volume and texture. I rolled the ends into a ponytail before piling everything into a high bun fastened down with bobby pins. The voluminous roots created a soft pouf on top of my head, together with the dress and my red lips, I was of old Hollywood glamour. My trusty pair of 12cm high stilettos shone in its solid black as the straps criss-crossed up my feet, wrapping themselves against my skin like little satin snakes. I dusted glitter all over my hair and decolletage before moving forward to help Tiffany get ready. I felt... incredibly sexy that night.

Tiffany wore a snow white shift dress with a high thigh split at the side, and wore matching stockings with garters, except that hers were white. I helped her to backcomb her hair, teasing it and setting it with hairspray until they held together and appeared slick. Her hair was styled to mimic Old Hollywood iconic star Audrey Hepburn. She dug out an old pair of white satin gloves, and slipped into a pair of nude heels.

It was 15 minutes before the show, and we have already reached the Penthouse suite. I told Tiffany about Gerald's words and we were both excited about the mystery person that he was going to introduce to me.

"Wow, maybe he is tall, charming and handsome!" Tiffany gushed excitedly as we set up the stage. I gave a small smile, not wanting to keep my hopes up. But deep inside i knew anticipation was already blown out of proportion.

"Hey Violette, you got a minute?" Candice, a girl from my team peeked from the side curtains.

I nodded and walked to her side. "What's up?" I asked casually.

"Tracy, Stella and I are supposed to do the pole dance tonight. But I really can't make it because my father has been admitted to the hospital. And you are the only one who knows the dance moves... Is it possible if you could take over after your performance at the Penthouse? I would really love to rush down to the hospital..." Candice pleaded, the rims of her eyes cried red.

"How will I have the heart to say no?" I patted her back reassuringly, promising to take her place. I checked my watch; that would mean I wouldn't have time to meet the mystery man/woman right after the performance.

It was time for my show. Tiffany and I took our places, stand up mikes in hand. The lights dimmed, and the spotlight was on us. I tried to get my eyes accustomed to the pitch black ahead of me, hoping to catch a visible glimpse of Gerald, and the mystery person. Or, just the mystery person actually. But the black devoured my searching eyes as the music started to play.

The applause died down with the strums of guitar and melody of the piano. Tiffany was already swaying and singing the back-up vocal lines. I grabbed the mike, my right hand on my hip as I took a deep breath.

"I love you... but I gotta stay true. My morals got me on my knees, I'm begging please, stop playing gaaaaames..." Tiffany and I belted out Mercy, by Duffy, which we found suited Hollywood glamour quite beautifully.

"You got me begging you for mercy... Why won't you release me?" I stuck out my hand to the audience, my body swaying in synchronization.

"You got me begging you got me begging, you got me beggin~" and then the music stopped. The spotlight disappeared and all the sudden, disco lights started flashing. A few of my team's girls joined us on stage, all with the same get-up. And then,

"I want nobody nobody but you, I want nobody nobody but you." We started dancing, and the crowd was crazy. Tiffany swapped positions with me as I shifted to the back, my eyes searching frantically but to no avail. The bevy of us girls moved in perfect choreography, and then, we took a bow and left the stage as the furious applause from the audience echoed merrily in our ears.

Stella and Tracy were already waiting for me backstage, my outfit in their arms. It was a dazzling black fringe set of bralette and skirt which was flowy and streamlined. I changed immediately, and allowed Tiffany to help me touch up on my make up before running off in a frenzy. I had ditched my black heels for a strappy silver one, having remembered Gerald's remarks of strappy shoes.

I was able to steal a quick glance in Gerald's direction as I headed for the door, but to my disappointment, the chairs beside him were all unoccupied. He had already been informed prior to my performance that I was only able to look for him after the pole dance, and lucky for me, he said that was not an issue. Was that the reason why he was alone? I shook my head vigorously to get the thoughts out. I guess loneliness was getting the better of me. I felt like a meek, desperate and horny woman.

The dance poles were at the main lounge on the second floor, where the men were more rowdy and uncouth. Tracy and Stella were to go topless at the end of the dance, but as I was from the upper tier, I had the rights to refuse baring my tits to the public. So I made a little correction to fix that part.

The music played, as the 3 of us stepped up onto the podium. Guys swarmed around like hungry piranhas, their hands outstretched and attempting to get a feel of our legs. I twirled and wiggled, sliding up and down the pole having being the one who choreographed the dance, I did it with unparalleled grace. I scaled the pole effortlessly before holding up with just my legs, released my hands and dangled upside down. The fringe of the dress followed the gravitational pull as the top layer of fringe tickled at my breasts.

Men surrounding the podium cheered and shouted as they clapped. The bridge of the Pussycat dolls song came as Tracy and Stella took off their tops, swirling them like a lasso before throwing the fabrics into the waiting crowd. I could have sworn the men look like kids looking at candy as they catcalled and took out their cash. I removed my top as well, revealing a see-through soft bralette that was made entirely of chiffon, held together by just the metal boning. It was seductive enough, and no one was complaining.

We bent really low into a squat against the poles, our asses jutting out towards the chaotic crowd. The men touched our asses, attempting bolder moves as they stuffed the money down our tight thongs. Tracy and Stella were well-trained on how to really pump up the atmosphere as they turned around, jiggling their breasts to taunt the men. And those who were lucky enough to snag a touch of their boobs threw 50s and 100s onto the stage.

I stood up, my body following the beat automatically. I saw a man who was seated at the back, appearing disinterested. He was one of the only few seated at the tables who were not clambering at the podium. Our gaze met as he sipped his whiskey in a dignified manner. The spotlight made it hard to focus on his looks, but I mustered a small, polite smile.

When the performance ended, the three of us went backstage as I hurried into my clothes. I was anxious to get to the Penthouse. I exited backstage, and then there was the man, from the tables. The UV light matched with flickering disco lights made it hard to fully appreciate his features, but I could tell he was very handsome for his age.

It was just one of my usual hit-ons by clients. I knew it would be beneficial to go over to his table and try to get him under my list to push for sales, but I was so eager to get to Gerald's penthouse. I smiled again as I took out my name-card, not wanting to drop my anxious gait. I wanted to politely show him I was in a rush.

"Hello there, I saw you sitting there. I hope you enjoyed our performance! Here is my name-card. I have to rush off to an appointment... I hope to see you again when you are free." He took the card graciously with both hands, nodded and walked me to the lift.

"See you around then... Violette." He barely saw the card details as he slipped it into his pocket. I waved as the lift door closed. Wow, I guessed my name was well known by the customers.

I burst through the fancy doors of the Penthouse as I scouted for Gerald. I spotted him with a few men and Tiffany.

"You are finally here." Gerald stood up as he guided me to an empty spot on the plush sofa. "These are my clients, you'd show them a good time, wouldn't you?" His eyes twinkled whilst his hands were busy pouring me a drink. I shook hands with all of them before taking my seat.

"Is the one you want to introduce to me here?" I asked Gerald as he handed me my glass.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Richard, the guy I wanted to introduce to you said he had to leave for awhile after your performance just now. I am not sure if he will be coming back tonight, though." Gerald failed to detect my disappointment, which was good. I just shrugged and shifted my attention to socializing with his clients.

But Tiffany could. She knew I was crestfallen. She proposed a toast as she scooted over to give me a small pat on my lap. The men then took to the balcony for a smoking break, leaving us girls with just Gerald.

"Babe, I would love to chat with you as per normal, but these clients are important to me. Will you ask the girls to do something special? I'll give you ladies 3 thousand dollar tip for sharing later." I nodded to show I understood the importance. He took his leave to join the smoking gang.

"Did you get to see Richard?" I asked Tiffany. She shook her head sadly, sympathizing my emotions. "I had to settle some dispute among two girls just now. When I got to Gerald, he said Richard has already left." I heaved and then, got myself up with a smile on my face. "Its okay! It's just a man. Let's get to work to help Gerald. For the 3000$!" Tiffany joined me as we did a victory punch.

The "something special" was a code. The girls just had to behave really wild and really inebriated which was easy, since they were already feeling the high, thanks to the ample flow of alcohol under Gerald's tab. We gathered the girls and conveyed the message. When the clients came back, it was as though everyone was on aphrodisiac. Some girls were half naked, some were making out with each other whilst some crowded around the men, teasing and cooing, begging to be played with.

The clients were caught off-guard, but in a positive way. Amid the haze and flickering lights, they started kissing and touching. Tiffany caught the interest of one German client as they disappeared into the balcony. I was on the couch sipping my drink when one of the girls approached me, one of the clients holding her hand. She proceeded to straddle his lap as he sat down beside me. The girl tilted her head towards my lips, and started to kiss me.

The man enjoys girl-on-girl action, I deduced as I played along. I reciprocated her touch on my body by sliding my hands up and down her thighs. The man unbuttoned her shirt before placing my hand on her right breast. I cupped it gently before dipping my fingers into her bra, reaching for her nipple. I fingered the taut bud as she moaned gently while working on the straddle. Playtime with MiMi granted me great experience as I lowered my head, my lips caught hold of her sensitive nipple as I nibbled on it, licking and sucking to her fancy. I could tell the client was very much aroused as I spotted his erection through those tailored pants.

Just as thing were heating up, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned back - It was the man from the second floor previously. I stood up, not wanting to appear alarmed. How did he get up to the Penthouse? From his posture, he must have been standing there and watching for quite sometime. He smiled and extended his hand for a shake. That bought me enough time to study his appearance without seeming too impolite.

He had a strong, masculine jawline to match the manly charm he exuded. A mixture of salt & pepper grazed the black that crowned his head in a short and neat fashion. He was tall, probably standing at 1.8 and had no trace of whatever unsightly physique a man of his age should have. Instead, he was tanned and muscled without being too much of an exaggeration. His eyes, with their slight double eyelids and thick lashes were mesmerizing yet commanding. When matched with his slight frown and shapely, kissable lips, he reminded me of those tv series where they always had the really attractive bosses that made the show seem like soft porn.

I guess he was in his early 40s. I tried to prevent my heart from racing, but it was defying my orders. I shook his hand as I tried to appear undaunted. It was the first time I found myself attracted to a much older man. But with him looking like that, I was the least surprised.

"That was really... entertaining, what you did with her." He said it in the most polite tone he could. I raised my eyebrow before quipping "Oh, why, do you like it?" He chuckled before nodding, "Who wouldn't? Especially when the performer is attractive." He ended the bold statement with a slight grin and a wink that was almost impossible not to swoon over. But I fought hard as the ripples of excitement barely infiltrated my nonchalant facade.

"Anyway, the performances you put on just now were great. I would love to stay longer, but I have a morning flight tomorrow. I hope to see you again." He took out a card from his pocket.

Performances? I was bewildered. He only seen the pole dance. But wait, how was he able to access the Penthouse? I took the card as I watched him turn around to leave. I looked at the card in my hand. It was the name card I passed him earlier. But he wrote something at the back.

I made a dinner reservation at Equinox, next Friday night at 7.30pm, a day after my return. I hope you can make it.

Richard.

Gerald approached me, wine in his hand and his cheeks flushed. He hung his arm around me and said "Richard left right after your songs to get a table on the 2nd floor so that he wouldn't miss your second performance. Pretty sweet huh?" That explained everything.

 As I stood in the middle with everyone around me in their pool of feisty tangled mess, I felt hot and flustered. My heart was struck with tremors that sprouted goosebumps all over, twitching and unable to recover from the shocking surprise. It felt as though I just had an orgasm better than anyone in the room. Richard.... It was then, at 21, did my story really begin.

It hides, when you're searching for it. It strikes, when you're giving up on it.

Chapter 10: 21

"Have a seat, Violette." the beautiful pan-asian woman with her statuesque frame and black Lanvin evening dress cooed, beckoning with her elegantly manicured nails. Her fingers curled around the root of the slender wine glass as she sipped gracefully. The serviette went across her lips in a dainty manner as a subtle red lipstick mark was imprinted at the edge of her wine glass.

That was the first time I saw Elaine. And she sure did live up to her reputation of Velvet kiss's top girl.

I crossed my legs and arched my back, hands one on top of the other over my knee cap. The gathers of my soft cotton dress fell onto the floor as the split of my maxi dress divided right at where my legs were entwined, revealing my bare thighs. I was comfortable and well practiced in that posture having done that too often.

4 impeccably dressed gentlemen entered the room. Through the hazy air and tinted lights, I could make out that they were probably from HongKong and Korea in their late 30s. Expensive watches gleamed at me as they extended their hands for a shake, to which I stood up and batted my lashes, with just a faint smile across my lips. Elaine however, leaned forward to peck one of them on both cheeks and proceeded to give the remaining 3 men a hug each.

I took my seat, and waited for the cue of their first toast. The bubbly champagne tickled my esophagus as I took a sip. The men then gestured for us to sit as two of them took either of my sides. They made small talk drenched in various slang and accents as we downed glasses after glasses of the champagne. I popped strawberries to satiate my hunger pangs as the men went on about their upcoming business collaboration.

Halfway through the guessing games,  Tiffany knocked on our door. I was called upon to put on a dance for two of my regulars, Gerald and Lincoln. Raising my wine glass, I proposed my last toast before courteously taking my leave. Elaine paid no attention upon my departure, nor did the man she pecked on the cheeks. The remaining men however, gave their nods of permission whilst Jerry, the one who sat next to me, leaned forward for a hug and left me his personal namecard.

I took it with both hands and gave a curt bow before gathering my shawl and clutch. I clearly did not enjoy myself and I was not afraid to show it. If I had to name something that made my name in this field of work, that would be it; My temperament. And it was something that hanging out with Cary had taught me. I did not succumb to following her footsteps by forgoing my ego and my character simply to fit in to the atmosphere nor the people. I could do just fine without people who disregarded me. On the contrary, I would do anything for people that were worth it. It was the sincerity of the trade that was often absent in society.

I wanted to remain true, and unforgettable. And I made it a point to always get what I want, not spoilt, but pure hard work. And if something doesn't tickle my fancy, I will never choose to forcibly accommodate by accepting it. The reverse psychology at play ensured men fought to win my fancy, waiting patiently whilst I decide whose room do I want to entertain that night. Leather goods from LV, Chanel and Gucci were showered generously, to which I adamantly reject, fueling the men's desire to extinguish the burning of their ego. That was the identity that I have worked hard for, no thanks to the stubborn Aquarian in me which stood staunchly to my beliefs.

Gerald and I went way back, having met at Imperial thanks to Lisa's introduction. He was her father's ex business partner. It was hard to describe the attraction between us, but we were special to each other. And I always knew how to tear past his defenses and read him like a book, which was useful as he became a VIP at Velvet Kiss when he was informed of my job hop.

Smoothing the crinkles on my maxi dress, I strutted out of the room and stepped into the dimly lit corridor. UV light shone through the semi opaque frosted glass scones hanging on the wall. Images of artistically nude women hung from the walls pasted with lavish vintage slate black wallpapers. The UV light made the corridors appear almost futuristic. Various girls dressed in sexy masquerade costumes brushed past us with unison greeting of "Hello Violette" as I replied with a polite smile.

"Gerald appears to be in a very bad mood today. He raised his voice at Tanya just now and it almost drove her to tears. Our section is losing money to Naomi's girls... We have to push bottles for Gerald's room. Work some magic okay?" Tiffany spoke really fast as we made our way back to our powder room.

She was draped in a soft silken bathrobe that revealed a little of her upper torso that was squeezed into a really tiny hot pink corset from La Perla. Her breasts were boosted by the wiring of the bustier cups and padding. They looked ghastly pale under the UV light, zipped up so tight that it was almost asphyxiating to watch. Tiffany was a thai-mix chinese, a soft spoken girl who hardly talks, but extremely intelligent. She was really petite, probably tinier than Cary and had naturally light hazel brown hair.

Tiffany was the closest colleague that I let in within the boundaries of my personal life. Her intellect ensured we always had enriching and productive conversations which were like a breath of fresh air as compared to the shallow and pretentious tête-à-têtes with the rest of the bimbo-tic staff. In the exchange of our secrets, she confessed she was addicted to drugs; To which I have been working hard to help her curb the dangerous habit. I knew that every girl working here had their dark secrets, and thus I gave leeway when their attitudes seemed almost unbearable.

I almost forgot to add, it has been 3 months since my 21st birthday. I no longer work for Imperial having gotten headhunted by Winnie, my current manager to work at Velvet Kiss, one of the most premium gentlemen's clubs in Singapore. There was an incredible pay hike, more demanding job scope, bitchier girls but... really rich men. Much has changed in the brief 2 years, and all that I can say is that I was just starting to truly live, all over again.

Cary and I were halfway through with our Bachelor degree, and to nobody's surprise, she was still together with Kevin, who had gotten her enough Chanel bags to open a store. Lisa had gone back to Taiwan for a long holiday, coming back in a few months' time whilst MiMi secured her study permit and was in her first year at a private U. She got together with a douche bag who somehow never failed to make her cry. And all of us were still as close as before.

Although the school fees were still a struggle, I breathed easier having started work at Velvet Kiss, indulging in a spa or manicure every now and then thanks to the occasional nudge from Cary. I was still standing at 1.65m tall, but I had gotten shapely from the weekly yoga class. My breasts were not large, but satisfactorily sizable and extremely perky, no thanks to all the trouble I gone through, of course. I decided to tone down on my hair color, choosing a muted dark chocolate brown. I pampered my strands with a daily regime of expensive treatment until my hair was naturally tousled and curled seductively at the ends. And, I finally shed my contact lenses for Lasik which was very much encouraged by Cary for the practicability and discouraged by MiMi due to the after-effects.

Tiffany and I charged into the powder room, make up brushes brewed a snow storm as we touched-up our make up in a bustle, our eyes glued to the ticking second hand of the clock. I stripped, my hands ransacking the clothing rack for my bottom gear as Tiffany helped me with my corset, pulling hard at the ribbons to eliminate any space. It was constructed entirely from lace, held together solely by metal boning. The sweetheart bust-line was double lined with more lace for modesty and the half cups ensured my breasts sat snugly within the bindings, my cleavage enhanced by a smart flick of the bronzing powder.

The shape of my curves loomed prominently as the corset held its position, my fair skin peeking through the translucency of the lace. I fumbled clumsily into a black ballet mini that was pure mesh and satin piping. I chose sheer thigh high stockings to match my lace garters which had ribbons on either side of the thighs. Tiffany sprayed a fine mist over my hair to freshen up. One last spritz of the perfume, more lip gloss, and I was ready for work. We donned masquerade masks which matched the theme of our section, mine had a black feather at the side that bounced merrily with every step as my heels barely made noise against the soft carpet.

We took the lift to the upper floor, where the more exclusive rooms were reserved for the VIPs. Dark wood paneling inlaid with gold centerfold moldings were chosen for the walls which was more tastefully expensive than the lower floors. Chandeliers hung from the tall ceilings, looking wispy in their soft solemn glow, illuminating the romantically darkened hallways sprinkled with generous wall murals and art pieces. Faint yet refined laughter could be heard reverberating from the rooms.

Tiffany held my hand as we navigated through the confusing corridors, and finally, we arrived at the Penthouse suite. The room had a 180 degree view of the urban landscape of the CBD area. The city lights were saturated with bewitching glamour as the colorful brilliance streamed in through the free falling windows. The party was in full swing as the other girls piled up on the couches and patio chairs. Random party guests made out in the fizzy hot tub as the water jets bubbled in changing colors.

I tried to make out the familiar silhouettes of Gerald or Lincoln, and I finally spotted Lincoln seated on the daybed, an unknown colleague of mine by his side, trying to cajole and coerce him into drinking more wine. The mask made it hard to see, and the inadequacy of light was not helping. The Penthouse featured a mini stage with full surround sound system and a variety of disco party lights. Tiffany and I rushed backstage as we motioned to the DJ. We had one minute before our stipulated performance.

We arranged our chairs as shuffling of feet could be heard before the stage curtains. The guests were taking their places to watch the performance. I felt adrenaline gush through my veins, but it wasn't nervousness, just a plain spurt of excitement. It was an ultimate enjoyment for me to be on stage. I took my place on the chair, my hand gripping the edge as I parted my legs, my toes outstretched, two spotlights were shone on Tiffany and I, making our legs look a mile longer and slimmer.

Sexy soft jazz played as the curtains parted slowly. From the corner of my eyes, I could make out the figures of Gerald and Lincoln, both taking the prestigious front seats as various other men jostled up in the second row, a bevy of girls in their arms. A saxophone started playing, and it was our cue to start. I flicked my hair back, as I crossed my legs. I then dipped low, as my left fingers trailed up from my toes up to my thighs. My right hand held the back of the chair for support.

I jolted up to stand, my right hand masterfully rotating the chair to bring it to the front. I stole a glance at Tiffany to double check our synchronization, our movements were indeed in unison as we put our left foot on the chairs, throwing our heads back to embrace the seduction of the music. I plopped down onto the chair, my breasts squashed against the backrest of the chair which was back facing the audience. Throwing a wink casually at Gerald who only managed a tiny smile, I paid no attention to his moodiness. Feeling all eyes on me, I turned sideways. My thighs parted and closed to the drops of the bass, as chest pops followed in effortless harmony.

After dishing out a few more well practiced moves, we took to the floor, our asses jutting and gyrating to the music. Crawling has never been more sensual as Tiffany and I crawled under the chairs, our bodies arching in faultless rhythm, undulating to the intensity of the beats. We lied down on the smooth parqueted floor tiles, our legs up straight in the air, adjacent from the audience. The spotlights dimmed to a soft lazy glow, trailing from the legs up as my body moved with the tenderness of the jazz in orgasmic transition. We then knelt facing the audience, hands forward before I stuck out my left arm, my finger gesturing as I whispered the words "Come to me" to match my nefarious stare before the curtains fell to the chaotic applause. And the performance was complete.

Tiffany hugged me as we went backstage. I walked to the patio and found Gerald, whisky in his hand, sulking at a corner. I pawed in noiselessly, removing my mask, and took my place beside him, my hands fully stretched against the balcony railing as I took a deep breath. Gerald acknowledged my presence, but did not speak. And neither did I. I took his glass and downed a huge swig. The grimness of the alcohol fizzled in my throat, leaving a fiery trail, igniting my belly. I never did really appreciated hard liquor on the rocks but I knew how to please Gerald.

Gerald was the CEO of a distinguished company. His austere behavior at work coupled with his capability made him both feared and respected by everyone within his work and social circles. He was not one you would describe as handsome, but his enigmatic and assertive charm made him appear irresistible. A Hongkong and Australian mix, he was tall, probably at 1.78M with fair skin and a slight beer belly. Flecks of gray littered his hair, giving away clues of his age, 42. The well-worn silver ray ban spectacles framed two stern but otherwise large brown eyes. And no one hardly notice due to his lack of positive emotions, but Gerald had beautiful dimples when he smiled.

He disappeared into the Penthouse. I did not bother to move an inch, only reaching for the cigarette pack on the patio table in front of me. My abhorrence for smoking was dampened as I knew Gerald always enjoyed watching me smoke. Photography being his hobby, Gerald was fascinated by the imagery of me with a cigarette between my lips. He said it was nothing short of sexy, and majorly different from how undignified smoking usually made an Asian woman look. True to his compliments, a photo he took of me smoking ended up on the front cover of a local photography magazine.

Gerald emerged from behind the heavy glass doors with a waiter carrying a large bottle of Crystal champagne partially submerged in a bucket of ice, two glasses in his other hand. A spark glimmered in Gerald's eyes when I exhaled the smoke before resting the cigarette at the edge of the ash tray. The champagne meant an additional 2000 dollars slipping into our section's earnings. The waiter bowed politely before exiting the patio, leaving two of us. I watched him pop the champagne, filling the glasses as the liquid gently bubbled. We toasted and sipped, before he whipped out his lighter and lit a cigar.

The remains of my cigarette faded into dying embers on the ash tray as we shared the cigar. He still did not speak. And I knew I was not to rush it. Lincoln crept to the patio with Tiffany by his side. And we had rounds after rounds of champagne as Lincoln attempted to strike casual work conversations with Gerald. I could feel Gerald loosening a bit, but he was still sullen. Lincoln exchanged nervous glances with Tiffany as they turned to look at me imploringly. I nodded and they took their leave.

He took a seat on the patio chair, slouching towards the left side. The ample space left on the spacious seat reflected his evident invitation for me to sit right beside him. To which I did. I tucked my legs under the mesh skirt, the garters tugging at the stockings. I looked right at him with a small innocuous smile across my lips. We clinked glasses, sipping the champagne as he leaned back against the chair, letting out a huge, sad sigh.
He closed his eyes, as I helped to put his glass away onto the table. He clasped his hands together and looked troubled. For a moment, I could feel the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Work?" I questioned.
"No... Angela." He answered, honestly and briskly.

I questioned no further. His distraught wife who had squandered his money on gigolos, left him  after falling in love with one of them. Due to the court ruling in her favor as she was after all, a local, Angela never quit in trying to milk more money out of Gerald despite the heavy allowance given. The gigolo obviously left her almost immediately after taking most of the compensation cash from the split. But Gerald still carried a torch for her, never failing to succumb to her false bouts of tears and emotional breakdowns.

The frown across his forehead lightened as I worked my fingers on his thighs into a deep massage. Kneading hard, the smooth fabric of his Giorgio Armani pants made no friction as they flowed fluidly beneath my touch. I felt sorry for him, and a huge part of me wanted to scream at him to wake him up. But we all have our weaknesses, and his was undoubtedly, his love for Angela.

Gerald opened his left eye and squinted at me. I felt his hand patting my arm. I stopped my massage and looked back at him. He sat up to plant a kiss on my forehead before breaking into a smile.

"You always know the right things to do, don't you?" He spoke, the tone of his voice changed drastically, it was now passionate and light-hearted.

"Well, someone here has to take a risk and step right into the middle of the lion's wrath, is it not?" I teased.

He took my hand and we stepped into the Penthouse. Gerald placed an order for 3 more bottles of Crystal and a Belvedere Magnum. We have far exceeded Naomi's section in terms of the daily cash sale. Tiffany rushed over to bring us two over to the mini dance floor as we danced. I winked at Tiffany when the bottles arrived. The party crowd went crazy as we popped the champagne, soaking the guests with frothy goodness, and it was all just a hell load of fun.

Right before Gerald and Lincoln had to leave, Gerald leaned in to kiss my cheek before saying

"You are very special to me, Violette. And there's someone I would love for you to meet. I'll see you on Friday night, okay? Put on a show for me, and strappy heels please." He smiled as we hugged before exiting through the door.

I wondered who that someone was. I have always trusted Lisa's suggestions, and this time, coming from Gerald, I am more eager than ever, because something inside me told me it'd be good.

Lesson 10: In order to be irreplaceable, one must always be different. 

Chapter 9: Lisa's introduction

I did not mean to, but Cary knew paying off the school fees would be a problem. Despite her relentless behest for me to "take a loan" from her, I had made my stand on wanting to settle the fees myself. Lisa, Cary, MiMi and I, having formed fast friends, were talking about potential jobs for me which had to be sufficient not only for the fees, but for my daily expenses. Flexibility was a problem as the school hours made it hard for me to commit full-time.

I have always considered myself frugal and not much of an obsessive label whore. In fact, I think its attributable to the fact that I had never even been able to afford any luxury good to know how it feels like to begin with. However, it was a constant struggle deep down inside whenever I hung out with the girls as they had no financial woes, and only wined and dined at the finest restaurants. Its always nice to have your meals paid for, but somehow the idea of "free loader" was jabbing sharply at my conscience and pride.

The four of us chatted over tea at TCC once, and being lost in their swanky conversation of Prada, LV and Gucci, it gave me time to do my observatory work. Lisa looked really attractive clad in a daffodil yellow floral dress from BEBE. She was arguing with Cary about which monogram LV bag was the hottest from the last season. And I knew Lisa was the kind of girl who spoke her mind. No inhibitions and no hidden agendas. A good friend.

I remember that night with Ivan, Lisa woke up and was disappointed to find that Ivan disappeared without a trace. I asked if they had sex, and she nodded her head. I felt a slight lurch in my heart, although I knew that answer right from the start. After telling her what actually happened, Lisa was angry that Ivan was such an asshole, but brushed it off with "At least he gave great sex." and we all laughed it off.

I shifted my gaze to MiMi, who was dressed in tight leather pants, an Ed Hardy tank top and stilettos from Guess. Her androgynous attire paid perfect tribute to her hairstyle and cold stare. Her left leg was curled suggestively over my right foot as we sat at the circular table. She never stopped texting me after our rendezvous that night. Somehow, it became a silent pact that our attraction for each other was to be kept under wraps, and purely just for pleasure purposes.

MiMi was listening intently to the conversation, her elbow propped on the table and hand supporting her chin. She was an attentive listener, making comments only when necessary. Her balance of femininity crossed with masculinity intrigued me as it was wildly exotic. Her face hardly betrays her emotions, or if she was even capable of any. I never stopped feeling that she had plenty of lewd thoughts swimming in her mind whenever our eyes met. And it was incredibly sexy.

I told MiMi about the rape. And I had no idea why I did. But somehow I felt that I had to. I needed to ask someone why do I still crave sex even after such a nasty thing happened to me. Am I considered a slut? Did I secretly enjoy the rape? Or was it the rape that changed me to become a tainted soul with impure thoughts? MiMi listened quietly as I let her in onto my urges, the strange vibe inside me and my addiction to giving and receiving pleasure.

That was when I finally knew why I felt that way. MiMi explained that I am probably, a nymphomaniac. Its a term to describe females who possess an extremely strong desire for sex. Its like as though I am always on aphrodisiac. And she said being a nympho does not equate to slut as nymphos are proud of themselves just as any man, would be pleased to ever meet and own one.

And, I accepted that term. She elaborated on how I felt disgusted by the rape because it was something against my will, not to mention, the aesthetically unpleasant men that were at it. However, it would be wrong if that terrible incident placed a barricade over my mentality as I deserved every right to feel the right kind of pleasure again.

Having matured over the months, I was starting to embrace the strange vibe. I just had to learn how to play my cards right. So, after the heart to heart talk with MiMi, I was relieved upon knowing the scar from the rape was finally healed and sealed away at the furthest end of my memories.

Lastly, I looked at Cary who was seated on my left. Her white chiffon dress from Ted Baker was flowy and princess-like. Her manicured nails were wrapped around her tea cup as she rambled on with Lisa, their senseless argument was nothing short of entertainment for MiMi and I. After all the months that I spent with Cary, it dawned onto me that she had many layers, and a lot more which I have yet to uncover.

Cary had taught me many lessons of life, all of which I had humbly etched into my brain. And she made me who I became. I looked at my reflection on my phone, egg shaped face with  soft and full lips and... large almond eyes complemented by discernible double eyelids. I no longer needed the tape. My cheeks glowed from the mild bronzer as my hair fell perfectly, swept on to rest upon my left shoulder.

I owe her more than I can ever repay. And I knew she was aware of that.

Lisa finally snapped out of the argument, digressing to my job hunt. "I have a job in mind, I think it suits you perfectly because there's much booze included. But it may be sleazy..." She bit her lip as MiMi shot her a death glare.

"Does it pay well?" was all I said, knowing beggars can't be choosers.

"Yes. Very... if you know how to. China women are really good at it." Lisa rised her eyebrows playfully at Cary, sticking out her tongue, much to Cary's ruffled expression.

"What is that??? Sounds really... err.. " I stopped my sentence, knowing it was a landmine waiting to explode as Cary's face was flushed from the personal attack on her country.

"Its working at a KTV as hostess. The sleazy ones pay really well if you are popular and .. open-minded." MiMi resolved the tension with her chilly voice.

The image of a large orgy within the interiors of a KTV room popped up into my mind. I gulped. Surely it can't be that bad. I snapped out of that scene and returned to reality with 3 pairs of eyes staring at me.

"I'll do it." was my reply.

~

Two weeks later, it was a Friday night. Cary helped me with my make up whilst Lisa chose a suitable outfit for me; A really short Alexander Mcqueen dress with fitted bodice and lace inserts, paired with glossy black strappy stilettos from Jimmy Choo. It was time for my interview with the KTV hostess, often addressed as "Mummy". She takes care of the girls in a pimp sort of way, and does the arrangement of assigning the girls to suit the clients' preferred choice.

I remember the pompous doors painted gold with two dragons circling the glitzy signboard bearing the KTV's name, "Imperial". The waitresses wore traditional qipaos with high slits, their bare thighs sculpted and smooth, elongated by their high heels. They conversed mainly in fluent Chinese and exaggeratedly sweet coy tones, proving that Lisa's remark about PRCs working at the KTV to be, really accurate.

Lisa took my hand as we stepped through the door, navigating through the posse of servers, waitresses and managers, our heels making no noise against the rich carpeted floor. Music resonated from the walls, merged with men's laughter and bass so loud, the vibrations sent tremors down the corridors.

We stopped in front of a "Staff only" door, a single chestnut door with creaky hinges as a woman opened it to welcome us. She was tiny, her long straight hair perfectly brushed to a shine. Unlike the waitresses and their inch thick makeup, the woman wore only a red lipstick and smudged eyeliner. Her eyebrows were tweezed so fine they were just two curved lines running across the small width of her forehead.

She had a mole on her cheek, 2 inches from her thin lips. Neither pleasant nor friendly was the word to describe her, but she had a vibe that was really stern but motherly. The woman broke into a smile upon seeing Lisa, and gestured gaily for us to step in.

My intuition was right, she was the "Mummy", and her name was Jenny, but I was to call her Mummy, if I get employed. She seated us on plastic stools, right in the midst of the messy staff room. A large mirror hung on the wall, with bright lights to illuminate the otherwise dark interior. Make up brushes and lotions were littered across the dressing table as Jenny shoved some away to make space for two tea cups. She poured tea from a thermal flask, whisked out from nowhere as Lisa and I sipped obediently.

Finally, Jenny took a long look at me and said "You are very pretty. Good." She motioned for me to stand up as she twirled me around, her hands felt cold and clammy as she touched my legs, before smacking my ass. "Very perky butt eh. Men like. But, not much breasts? Chinese and Japanese clients will not like you as much then. Have to push."

Jenny cupped my breasts and squeezed them together. Lisa grinned at me and mouthed "TIME FOR SHOPPING" as I rolled my eyes at her. Jenny then disappeared into the clutter of the room as I heard the opening of a cupboard. She came back with an employment contract.

"Now, the basic salary is 12$ an hour for probation, then $15 after 3 months. Your basic is higher than most other waitresses because you are local. Every room that you go to will guarantee a red packet of minimum, 50$. You get commission from liquor sales too. However, the sales will be shared with the other girls in the room as well. Tips from customers are for your own keepsake. We are open every day except for Tuesday. You are required to work a minimum of 3 days a week. Understand?" Jenny spoke in  hokkien accented English.

Lisa then placed her empty tea cup onto the dressing table and said "Jen, don't forget to instruct her on the... special services."

Jenny nodded and straight right into my eyes as I tried not to look fazed. "Here, our girls provide special services to our customers, such as touching, kissing and blow jobs. It is taboo to negotiate the price as we are a licensed KTV, so these have to occur under "willing and normal circumstances" the money will be placed into your red packet before the client leaves, so be sure to check that it is the right amount. touching and kissing are usually 20-30$, and sucking is of course higher, 50-80$ depends on how much he likes you."

She spoke really normally despite the crudeness of the sentences and to which I merely nodded to show that I understood. Jenny handed me a signo ball point pen and the contract. As I sieved through the wordy Terms and Conditions, she added "If the customer asks for sex, it is to your own discretion to discuss with him if he takes you out of the KTV, but only leave when your shift ends, which is 3am. I will not be responsible if anything happens. However, it is not compulsory and you can reject them."

I nodded again, as I fought to suppress images of fat old men trying to wrestle their dicks up into me. I signed and handed Jenny the papers. "Here you go, mummy." I ended the sentence with a smile. Jenny patted my shoulder affectionately and said "You are a fast learner. See you next wednesday!" as she waved goodbye.

Lisa and I exited the door and went out of the building to meet up with Cary and MiMi, who reached a few minutes back by taxi. They were both dressed really well and I shot a suspicious look. Cary rushed forward to embrace me before quipping "We are heading to Zouk for a celebration!"
I groaned as I had work the next day, which was the 2nd last day of my waitressing over at the restaurant. Oblivious to my protests, Lisa and Cary shoved me into the awaiting taxi and in 15minutes, we were right at the entrance of Zouk.

The two of them chatted furiously whilst MiMi hooked my arm and we strolled leisurely behind. Then, she nudged me with her arm as we scaled the stairs up to the bar. "Look to your right." She whispered.

It was Ivan, in the familiar jacket and same affable yet sexy expression on his face. He was leaning against the wall to the toilet and to which I assumed, he was waiting for a girl. Some new prey I supposed. Not wanting to alert Lisa for fear of what antics she may come up with, MiMi and I stood at a strategic spot behind an adjacent pillar for a better view. Lisa and Cary went ahead to queue at the bar to place their orders, the high influx of people served as good blockage between Lisa and Ivan.

I was right. A girl dressed in a scanty attire of black hot pants and a cropped lace top showing an unhampered view of her black bra stepped out from the corner of the toilet and locked arms with Ivan. And they walked, towards us. My heart started pounding so loud it could almost deafen the drowning house music. MiMi spoke quickly "What are you going to do? He will see you for sure!"
I gulped before attempting to unlock the strange vibe in me.

Ivan rounded the pillar, and before I knew it, he was right in front of me. He stopped in his tracks and let go of the girl's hand. I stood staunchly at my position and stared ferally in a bid to dampen his beguiling gaze. The girl's eyes ping-ponged between Ivan and I as though trying to comprehend the intensity of the situation.

And to which, all I said was "Hi, I see you have yourself a nice prey there. Have fun." I patted his chest and winked, before grabbing MiMi's arm and strode past the pair, before disappearing into the queue to look for Cary and Lisa.

Lisa punched the air in anger as we related the incident to her over our jug of bourbon coke. Cary gave her a hug to calm her down before indicting she had to go to the restroom to answer Kevin's call. It had been 6 months and they were still dating. Maybe I was wrong about him.

Not long after our third jug, we set off to the dance floor and created quite a storm. Guys were dancing us up and we bumped into Ivan again. Lisa looked at him with disgust as he ground his hips against the same girl we met outside the toilet. She turned away and allowed herself to be wedged between two overly horny men whilst Cary danced with MiMi. I felt Ivan's eyes on me as I pretended to be immune to his attempts to catch my attention.

I proceeded to touch the cheek of the guy in front of me, before dipping low and gliding against him like a cat in heat. I then turned to face Ivan, with the guy's arms wrapped hungrily across my midriff. I relished the jealousy strewn across that pretty face as he tried to ignore the scene by fondling the girl's body.

My hand reached out for Ivan's face as I pulled his ear close to my lips, "Do you like things that are harder to get?... because... me too." I licked the lobe of his ear before pushing him away. I kissed the guy who held me on the cheek before waving goodbye. I no longer had use for him as I walked back to the girls, leaving the two guys confused as hell. I could have sworn I saw Ivan's ego deflating.

That was the last time I saw him. And that typical game of hearts that he played could not precede subduing me, although it left me gasping for air;  I had finally mastered to never submit to that, and that's when I could safely say, when a playboy meets a playgirl, I can change the stereotype by claiming my rightful victory in that match.

lesson 9: humans will never cherish nor fully appreciate anything that they can get within reach. 

Chapter 8: Playboy meets playgirl

As Wayne swiped the key card and opened the hotel room door, we were greeted by a decadently lavish living area. The night curtains of the free falling windows were tied up, revealing a breathtaking panoramic view of the Singapore skyline. Flashing neon lights dotted the landscape, and the Singapore flyer loomed majestically, the wheel whirled in a myriad of color burst. We were on top of the world.

The posh lounge chairs were in a rich color of wheat, threaded in intricate embroidery that glimmered with a silken sheen. Plump goose-feather cushions weighed down heavily on the seats in matching embroidered designs. A large fresh fruit platter occupied the beautifully lacquered rosewood coffee table, the exotic fruit variety guaranteed to whet any palate. An array of magazines were fanned out right next to it, featuring only the top tier reads. A modern art-piece hung adjacent to an ostentatious 55 inch LED tv, which was switched on, showing HBO.

Lisa was already helping herself to a premium selection of Godiva chocolates at the bar, which was far from "mini". A private wine cellar was stashed away at a corner of the kitchenette, with the finest selection of aged wines. Wayne pulled out a bottle of champagne, and stuck it into the frosted wine-cooler. Reaching for the wine glasses suspended above the counter top, Wayne pulled out 5 glasses from the rack. He then proceeded to chill the glasses by dipping them into wine-cooler.

Ivan assisted with the bottle opening whilst I set out to help Cary to the master bedroom, as graciously invited by Wayne. Cary's cheeks were flushed from the alcohol as she ambled clumsily into the room, her weight strained against me as I supported her with my arm. I tucked her into the opulent 4 poster bed and pulled the blanket up before leaving the night light on. The room looked romantic and fairy-tale like in the warm glow of the amber light.

I followed the sound of their voices, which directed me to the Jacuzzi area. It was spacious and entirely floored in marble. The Jacuzzi sat in the middle as liquid eruptions formed over the sloshing surface thanks to the powerful water jets. Wayne and Ivan were already in their boxers, their legs dipped into the invitingly warm water of the Jacuzzi. I found it almost impossible to tear my eyes away from Ivan's almost naked form. He was lean, but really toned as his chest was slick from the water droplets which snaked down deliberately over his delicious abs, soaking his boxers.

MiMi and Lisa came out from the bathrooms in their swimsuits, a red polkadot tube monokini and a stripey blue tie string bikini respectively. Mimi stuck her perfectly toned leg into the Jacuzzi, swirling gracefully, getting accustomed to the temperature before dipping her full body in. She smiled at me and gestured for me to follow suit. Lisa pulled my hand excitedly, and pleaded for me to put on her spare wetsuit. I followed her to the guest room where her L.V luggage bag was, and waited as she flipped through a mountain of clothes.

The guest room was adorned in a modern french flair, with Picasso art pieces and metallic lights. Two super single beds stretched out across the room, dressed in matching contemporary bedding of pastel hues. A subliminal brass sculpture guarded a work desk, which looked like it was about to give way under a surfeit of shopping bags from Gucci, Prada, Lanvin and Hermes.

Lisa dug out a beautiful two piece from Miss Selfridge. The top was a triangle halter neck with black lacy ruffles, and the bottom too,was black with a ruffled skirting. A stunning gold brooch "Selfridge" was sewed at the lower right hem. It fitted like a charm as the padding inserted cushioned my breasts, making them appear fuller. My consistent visit to the clinic and daily routine of the horrible tea consumption had paid off. I stared into the mirror for a split second, admiring my fruit of labor, literally.

"Lisa, you like Ivan?" I asked as Lisa tied the strings of my halter neck into a ribbon.
"He is cute. I don't mind having fun with him." Lisa replied honestly, giggling like a school girl.

A weird idea suddenly formed in my head.

We splashed in the Jacuzzi as I pulled MiMi to sit by me, allowing Lisa to nestle in next to Ivan. She grabbed his arm suggestively as she accidentally rubs her soft breast against his toned flesh. I pretended to be engrossed in a group chat with Wayne and MiMi, laughing merrily as we played guessing games. The five of us then finished three bottles of champagne, and the atmosphere was in flames. Wayne decided to call it a night as he got out of the tub to shower and collapse onto the bed next to Cary.

It was just us four, inebriated at 4.30 am in the morning, feeling the heat from the alcohol, the water jets and indomitable lust. Ivan was obviously more tipsy than he had wanted to be, sporting a healthy pink tinge all over his body and cheeks. Lisa took advantage of the situation by proposing a lascivious game of truth and dare with the couple of beers left unfinished.

The first spin of the bottle. With the luck of a distraught gambler, it was my turn to give Ivan a dare. Lisa looked at me expectantly, holding her breath in anticipation. Ivan looked at me intently. I gave him a come-hither smirk. I clapped my hands in delight as I announced: "Ivan has to kiss Lisa from her neck, down her cleavage, to the navel and end at the start of tie string bikini bottom." Ivan's jaw tightened. He knew I was doing it on purpose.

I indulged in the fact that I knew how a playboy like him operates. I was no way more attractive than Lisa, but the idea of playing hard-to-get tickled at Ivan's ego, because he was too used to getting whatever he wants. Lisa let out a false scream of shock upon hearing my dare, but allowed Ivan to lunge at her body, his tender lips caressing the streamline of her body. It was strangely erotic to voyeur such a scene.

Second spin. It was Lisa's turn to give MiMi a dare. "French kiss Violette for 1 minute." She ordered, her legs scantily hovered across Ivan's lap. It only made sense as there were no other suitable candidate. MiMi caressed my cheek gently, her fingers wrinkled from soaking in the tub. I played along as I inched towards her, our heads tilted in consonant angles as our lips searched for each other. Her arms were wrapped around me as I felt her tender tongue snaking through my lips, reaching out for mine.

I could hear Lisa counting down faintly in the background, her voice hovering over the sound of the water jets. But I was lost in the tension that was building up from the kiss. MiMi was sweet, hints of vodka, champagne and strawberries tantalized my tastebuds. Our tongues tangoed slowly, rubbing and tasting. It was gentle, girly and very passionate. Her hands moved steadily to the front, and I felt her cupping my soft breasts in her palms. I was alarmed, but the arousal was a sensation too powerful and too pleasurable that I was rooted.

"And... 60!" Lisa ended the dare with joint applause from Ivan. MiMi pulled away from me slowly, with a knowing smile on her face. I was confused, but I smiled back in response. A few more rounds then ensued, and with the last beer gone, Ivan got up and said "Alright, its time for bed! I'm dying." Lisa followed him like a puppy, rushing to hold his hand. Ivan turned back to look at me and I shot a glance at Lisa, to indicate she has already claimed him for the night. His smile stiffened as he walked away.

"Violette, you can share my bed." MiMi offered, still soaking in the watery bliss, no intention of leaving yet.

"You not gonna turn in?" I questioned. It was already 5.45am.

"Lisa is probably going to need some space with Ivan." MiMi hinted wisely. I assumed Lisa must have expressed her desire for Ivan long ago during the cab ride.

"Oh. Well. I guess then we just have to stay here for awhile more then." I kicked back, letting the jets massage my aching back, allowing my legs to be pummeled by the harsh flow.

"Violette, have you ever kissed a girl?" MiMi asked. And I could tell from her tone that she has been hatching something since the moment we met.

"No... Not really. I guess. Why?"

"You are into girls. I can feel it. Let me show you..." MiMi sat closer next to me, and I felt my heart pounding defiantly in my chest.

Before I could part my lips to speak, her mouth was already pressed against them, her tongue wriggling and making love to mine, which was reciprocating to its fullest might. Her hands were slow and sensual, touching all the right spots, tickling, trailing, circling from my spine, to my thighs, to my pelvic region. My disobedient body quivered from such tease as I felt myself succumbing to the mercy of another female entity.

My hands moved on their own accord, working their way into her tube monokini as I undid the ribbon in front. Her breasts spilled out, firm and taut, her nipples rigid in attention. I fondled with them, the touch of the tender goodness sent off bolts of electricity down my nerves. MiMi did the same, her fingers untying the strings at the back of my bikini. I felt my breasts freed from the wetsuit, submerged in the water. She pulled me up, her tongue now working hard on my nipples, her hand groping the circumference with passion.

A soft moan escaped my lips as she nibbled, her fingers then trailing to my bikini bottom, tugging at it, pulling it down. She then directed me to lie at the edge of the Jacuzzi, my legs spread apart. It was chilly now that my body is exposed to the cold air conditioning as I lie there, facing the ceiling, but the heat of the water gushing towards my sex drove me mad. And then she dived right into the middle, her hands holding my thighs firmly. She was in full view of my sex, as she smiled and kissed the labia slowly.

Her tongue then flicked at my sensitive bud, licking furiously. I moaned, my hands reaching forward to grab her hair. Goosebumps formed on my arms as I raised my head to watch her at work. She sucked at the bud in a steady rhythm, her right hand forked to part my nether lips for easier access. Her fingers then went in, thrusting in the same flow as her tongue, rubbing, sucking and stroking. I felt the pleasure building up as I thrashed about, my hips rising and falling to the rhythm of her cunnilingus. My bud was swollen and almost bursting with pleasure as my moans grew louder.

She then increased her speed as her fingers went faster, the sound of my juice merged with the vibrations of the water jets in lewd harmony. Her tongue dribbled hard at my bud as her soft lips sucked hard at the radius of it. Harder and harder... as I let out a helpless cry, my hips stirring fervently. The climax then exploded as I felt the orgasm rupturing from within, the waves of pleasure collided against the surges of the waves from the Jacuzzi.

The strange vibe that I had been feeling dominated me throughout the whole session with MiMi. As we got out of the tub and headed to the bathroom, I finally knew what it was. It was the dark side of me, of lust, deceit, tease and heartbreaker. I do not know if it has been predominating only after the vicious rape incident, but I was sure that it had only been dormant, having existed since a long time ago... I guess it was the real me that I had suppressed after being hurt by Darren.

But things are different now.

We changed and sneaked quietly into the guestroom. Lisa was asleep, but Ivan was nowhere to be seen. MiMi gave me a hug before climbing into her bed. I went out of the room dressed in nothing but a bathrobe as we did not want to wake Lisa by turning on the lights to look for dry clothes.

I searched through the Penthouse and finally found Ivan standing in the balcony, which delivered a full view of the daybreak. It was breathtaking. Ivan was clad in Wayne's spare shorts, his abs glowing from the sun rays. We stood in silence as we admired the view.  And suddenly, Ivan turned to look at me.

"I don't know what you think of me. But whatever it is, its not true." I detected anger in his voice, but I did not turn to face him.

"Lisa likes you." was all that I could come up with.

"I don't care about her. Why are you so weird? And so mean? I came here because of you."

"Did you guys not have sex?" I asked, a part of me felt that Lisa would always make sure she have anything that she wanted.

"I told you I am not whatever that you think of me as." Ivan could not bear with my detachment from the emotional conversation, his arms yanking at my shoulders, spinning me to look him in the eyes. The way he avoided my question left too much dubiety to be answered.

The sun has risen fully, the golden rays shone luminously against Ivan's face, making him look more attractive than he already is.

"I want you. And I don't want to play games anymore. Come with me to my place. I want time with you alone.. in my arms." Ivan stared right through my eyes, as though he could look into my soul. He bent down to kiss me on the lips.

I could have sworn my heart almost melted at that very moment, but images of Darren popped up in my head as I bit my lips, thinking of a smart reply.

"Lisa is my friend." I answered.

"You only met her last night!!!" Ivan raised his voice a little, feeling agitated.

"And so did you." I pushed his hands away as those words left my lips, stepping away from the balcony, pushing at the sliding door. Before I walked into the cold living area, I turned back and said

"Go pick someone else that ain't got a brain."

As I walked into the guest room, I heard Ivan gathering his things before the front door clicked open. And he was gone.

lesson 8: A man who truly wants you, will never let another woman walk into his arms.

Chapter 7: Strange Vibe.

I told Cary, anyway. She demanded me to repeat how the scene unfolded, just in case I left out any details. I exercised caution to emphasize that no romantic interactions were witnessed, but it was my gut feeling that things were not platonic. I could feel that she was shaken by my news, as much as her imperturbable facade tried to prove otherwise. Cary's star sign is Scorpio, whose infamous ego refuses to bow down to vulnerability of a defeated emotional battle. I knew that deep inside, Cary has already fallen for Kevin.

She tried to powder the sour atmosphere with "Kevin bought me an L.V bag, and an Ipad 3!" She cheered, dragging me into her room to show off her trophies of the catch. I did not speak much, but I knew it meant that she had given her end of the trade. I was not sure whether she was hurting inside from the fact that she may probably have been cheated on, but I tried not to show any sinew of concern. With a lackluster smile plastered on my face, I watched as she held up the L.V, the majestic logo shone like a beacon, illuminating the royal red of the embossed surface.

As I kept myself toasty under the duvet that night, I was positive I could hear soft cries. It seem that girls always lose out in the game of hearts, huh? I thought about Darren again, and almost stabbed myself for allowing him to enter my thoughts. Vengeance soaked to the bones, so overpowering as I gritted my teeth in assent. Something in me wanted the tables to be turned.

And so I did.


~

I took Cary out to Butter Factory on my next off day after that incident, and she was more than elated. She rocked the night with her Texas cowgirl get up of hot denim shorts, a matching rugged denim vest over a distressed white crop top. Her outfit was paired with brown fringed boots and a fringed leather wristlet. Her face glowed with her immaculate bronzing of her cheek bones and T-zone, matched with summer eye shadow and long fluttery lashes. Her flat tummy revealed by the crop top was fair and looked smooth to the touch, appearing flatter than it really was due to her towering breasts above.

To complement her get up, I was in an equally short white denim pants that enveloped my firm buttcheeks. I chose Cary's Salvatore Ferragamo sheer black chiffon blouse as my top. It featured a cut-out off shoulder with a lace collar and golden metal clasps at the edge. A row of golden buttons fizzle with robust glamour in the middle. The cuff-links too were in gold, with the brand's logo embossed on them. I completed the look with a newly acquired pair of golden heels from Charles & Keith, the straps crissed-crossed in a very seductive stance. My make up was punk-rock, with winged eyeliner, sugared with specks of gold shimmer, and the same bronzed cheeks with muted nude lipstick.

Cary chose our target that night, and I had no qualms about it. I followed her tightly, weaving in and out of the dance crowd. We stood right by the VIP tables, and I felt all eyes on us. She placed her hands on my waist, and we started dancing. It was a good thing we grabbed a couple of beers beforehand, or that would have been really stiff. And it wasn't long before a man left his table and approached us.

He seemed to be in his early 30s, looking uptight in his long striped shirt and careless tie. He sneaked behind Cary and started gyrating his hips against hers. They started conversing in Mandarin, which I then heaved a sigh of relief as I wasn't in the translator mood that night. I was struggling to figure the strange vibe that seemed to have sprung out of nowhere again, taking control of me like a skilled puppeteer.

I continued my little performance with Cary, my hands lingering on the chests of the random men who were trying to dance me up. My expression was nothing short of provacative as I licked my lips, my lashes battering, I winked and wore smugness as my good luck charm. The men clambered for my attention like hungry kois, their lust propelling in such frenzy I could smell it.

The striped shirt man, who introduced himself to Cary as Wayne, and was half Taiwanese and half Singapore disappeared to get us a jug of vodka cranberry. We downed the juice in seconds, having worked up quite a sweat from all the vigorous dancing. Transient intoxication kicked in in minutes from the brain freeze as Cary whispered "Let's make these boys go crazy." She pulled me in and started kissing my neck, stamping whatever surface area she could reach with soft subtle kisses.

I felt hands groping our asses, or wherever they could land as they fought among themselves for a chance to catch our gaze. But we did not stop, bringing our show just a step further as I dirty danced against Cary, my hands caressing her collarbone, trailing her ample bosom which jiggled at my touch. Wayne was completely seduced, his hands glued to Cary's tiny waist, giving off a dominating vibe in an attempt to claim his prize.

A well dressed young man caught my eye. He was dressed in a black leather jacket and ripped denim. He had attractive features; smooth complexion, sharp chin and mesmerizing almond shaped eyes with deep double eyelids. He was alot like Darren, even the air of haughtiness that hung around him was similar. The playboy vibe. He had been looking at Cary and I, but did not make a move.

The strange vibe in me did.

I caught his eye and beckoned him over with a twitch of my index finger and a smirk on my face. To nobody's surprise, he shook his head and tilted his head to his right, staring at the empty spot beside him. Taunting me, wanting me to go over. I signaled having no intention of giving in as I pointed to Cary, stating that I was not allowed to go anywhere else.

Having figured that my excuse was a valid reason, he knew he had to relent. I smiled and continued dancing with Cary as he walked over, his hands placed lightly on my hips, draping themselves so dangerously close to my ass. He was really tall, at about 1.8, his hair neatly waxed in short spikes. "You are a demanding girl." He whispered. His voice was dripping with charm as his breath lingered at my neck, smelling of lime mint.

"Couldn't be worth comparing to you." I gave a small smile as the words fell out without thinking. Cary saw him, and gave a small nod of approval before gesturing that she was going over to Wayne's table. I turned around and looked up at the man, his cologne smelt like Unforgivable man from Sean John. Truly unforgivable indeed.

"I am Ivan. And you are?" Ivan ran his fingers down my back, the friction of his touch against the chiffon of my blouse forged a path of star sparks down my spine. He was moving slowly and suggestively to the flow of my hips. His actions were well rehearsed and confident, complimenting perfectly instead of overwhelming the salacious atmosphere that we were engaged in.

"Ivan, don't ask me something you won't bother to remember." I spoke in tender tones against his ears, as my right hand curled against his neck, my fingers stroking the sensitive flesh behind his ear. My left hand was holding his waist, gripping into the stiffness of his leather jacket. We danced for a while more, both of us desperately fighting off the urge to do anything more, to admit defeat. I cupped his cheek in my palm as I gave him the most seductive smirk I could manage. And it was not even my conscious, but the mysterious vibe that was commanding everything. Stooping a little, he planted a kiss on my forehead, the warmth of his lips stilled my breath for a split second.

He was really good at what he does. And he knew it.

Appearing to remain detached and unfazed, I took his hand by the wrist instead of his fingers, and pulled him out of the crowd to Wayne's table. Wayne was chatting happily with Cary, and mentioned that he has a penthouse suite at Fairmont Singapore for the night. We were all invited to go over. Two girls came over to the table, both dressed to the nines. And they were really beautiful. I learnt from Cary that they were from Taiwan, and filthy rich as well.

One was called Lisa, she wore bright blue contacts that brought out the beauty of her unmarred make up and she was around Cary's size, but she lacked the assets. Her hair was dyed oxide blonde with pink highlights and she donned a tight red tube made of crepe. A necklace from Cartier stole the limelight as the rhinestones and diamonds dazzled prominently, demanding attention.

The other was MiMi, a really passe name in my opinion. But she looked really sexy as opposed to her dainty name. Her sun-kissed skin tone made Cary and Lisa appear ghostly as she sat in between them. She had shoulder length hair that was cut in a high fashion slant, short from the left to long on the right. Her straight bangs accentuated her oval face, flattering her high arched brows and romantic Chinese eyes. Her lips were painted red, the only distinguished color against her palette of monotone. She was dressed in a solid black LBD with analogous black heels.

I saw Ivan's fleeting gaze as he appreciated their beauty with no attempt to appear clandestine. I knew he was doing it to get a reaction from me. To which, he failed as I leaned over and said "Come with us tonight to the suite, I think you'd like that." I flashed a genuine smile, and I could have sworn I felt disappointment on his end as he could not detect any jealousy from me.

He shrugged and hesitated for awhile. I put my hand over his lap and said "4 pretty girls, what do you have to lose?" He placed his hand over mine and I felt him resisting the urge to interlace our fingers together. Instead, his hand remained for awhile before reaching out for his drink for a toast.

"Only if you down a full glass." He quipped. I took my glass in compliance and twirled my finger absentmindedly on his lap before retracting my hand.

Us 4 girls danced around the table as Wayne chatted with Ivan. I felt him stripping me with his eyes as I fought hard to win the visual battle. He was too handsome not to look at. As we danced, Lisa said "Ivan is so cute!" Her cheeks were red from the alcohol and probably from the blushing as she oogled at him, feeding his ravenous ego. MiMi on the other hand, was intrigued with me, her hands wrapped around my body seductively. Maybe she was inebriated. My bad experience with girls in school made it impossible for me to believe I could be attractive bisexually.

Wayne poured us more drinks and we finished the Belvedere Magnum before we left the club, heading for Fairmont. I left Ivan to take a cab with the two taiwan girls, on purpose of course. I relished at his silent protest as he feigned nonchalance when I ushered them into the cab. He tried to get back at me by allowing Lisa to tuck her arm into his. I simply shouted "See you guys later!" and waved as their cab drove off.

In the cab with Wayne seated in front, Cary showed me the text conversation between Kevin and her. She had gone with asking him about the Caucasian girl despite her claims of not going to do so.

"Violette said she saw you with a Caucasian girl that day."
"Ya, that is my friend from Amsterdam."
"O, why you did not tell me about her."
"Sweetie, my love, she is just a good friend, so I do not wish to invite unnecessary trouble by telling you."
"Ok... What are you doing tonight?"
"I have a meeting with some big bosses, and we will be going to KTV, so can't meet you tonight. Tomorrow k?"

His words were saccharine and so aptly phrased. Cary asked for my opinion, to which I responded with a lie. "Give him the benefit of the doubt first then, because you have nothing to lose right?"

She nodded. I knew that was what she wanted to hear as I patted her hand. She resumed her happy self as she perched against the front seat, speaking to Wayne in fast and fluid Mandarin.

As the taxi zipped down the empty streets, the tug in my conscience was killing me. My intuition was screaming. Knowing Kevin, I fear for Cary. The only thing I can count on then, was that Wayne may pan out to be a good distraction.

And somewhere deep down, where my strange vibe was hidden in the shadow, thoughts of Ivan and his chiseled features gave me goosebumps just thinking of his touch.

lesson 7: give the player all your attention by not paying him any.

Chapter 6; Knowing Kevin.

I was not myself for the next few weeks but work has been pretty hectic, which was good. Darren was the last thing I want to be clogging up my mind. On the other hand, Kevin expressed romantic interest for Cary, whom has reciprocated. Their frequent dates also meant I had no excuse not to reply Kai's texts to me, having to be dragged along for the double dates. Kevin was a gem, treating Cary just like the princess she should be.

One night, Cary was going on about how cute Kevin was in his pjs, and thus I asked if sex has occured yet, to which she replied "I will not have sex with him until he shows that it's worth it.".

"Worth it? Like how? I thought he has been really sweet to you." we conversed in simple English, as she was going through her make-up brushes, cleaning them with tissue.

"If you give a man sex easily, he will think he do not have to work for it. So you must preserve it until he showers you with constant well-treatment and finally, a lavish token to seal the deal." Cary spoke, her eyes never leaving the make up counter.

"Lavish token... like an expensive present?" I asked, bouncing up and down on her soft pink bed.

"Yes... Hehe. A prada bag hopefully." Cary giggled, her eyes sparkled.

"What happens after you have sex with him then?" I was confused, for I thought they were serious about each other.

"If the man is serious, he will behave himself and continue treating me appropriately, if he leaves, it is okay, I have the gift, but he will never get my heart." Cary spoke slowly, stumbling over the words. And I could feel in her tone that she meant it.

And that was the second thing I have learnt from my China friend. Never give a man your heart if you do not first have his. Or perhaps, let men fuck you for a branded bag. Which, I of course, has chosen to interpret as the former.
~

Louis went on non-stop about how pretty I looked after I appeared at work with minimal make-up which application was taught by Cary. I marveled at how everyone's attitude towards me improved considerably as of which. Colleagues who never knew I existed started talking to me, asking about the weather, about my day and what-nots. Customers hitting on me, shoving me tips and leaving their contact numbers on napkins became something common.

I stared into the mirror at the start of every day, looking at the reflection who was staring back. As my fingers dabbed with foundation cream went across those cheeks, I grimaced at the superficiality of the human race, how people are attracted to nothing but the skillfulness of the paint job on a sculpted mask, and how our daily lives are just a struggle to be accepted, to stay alive in this societal rat race.

On a particular Wednesday afternoon, it was Louis and my off day as usual. Strolling along town, we were approached by a flyer distributor. As Louis was about to reject the girl's flyer in her hand, I stopped to take it from her, wanting to make her job easier. It was a promotional advertisement for one of the local aesthetic and bust enhancement companies. And then I saw, bust-enhancement going at a discounted rate. I nudged Louis and said "No harm trying?"

He looked at my chest and chuckled: "Well maybe... but i don't really think there will be much results."

"Well... we can always go inquire. It's just near by." I scanned the flyer for the shop address.

Truth to be told, I always hated the inadequacy of my breasts. When mother was pregnant with me, she always wanted me to be a son. Imagine her disappointment when she woke up from her localized anesthesia to find her child wrapped in pink. I grew up in pants and digimon t-shirts, played catch with the neighborhood boys and never had my hair beyond my shoulders.

Primary school went by just fine, as I remained part of "the boys" where recesses were spent playing yugi-oh, eraser battles and balls when Wendy and I got into different classes. Reality hit only in secondary school, when the boys and girls started developing hormones and all the boys realized i'm really, actually a girl. I guess maybe that was why I was ostracized by both genders... because I don't belong to either. The time I have spent with the boys made me a foreign object to the girls in class, for I could not keep up with their gossips and endless preening sessions in the toilet.

Wendy and I played barbie dolls at home previously, but she too was not the average kind of girl, having grown up with two brothers in the house. Thus my knowledge of the feminine department was close to zero, other than the fact that I, like any other girl, was attracted to the color pink, and that I have had crushes on boys.

Breasts to me, was a symbol of femininity. My chest has done nothing to help me feel better throughout my adolescent years. At that moment, flyer in hand, I was hopeful. I wanted to feel womanly, something that I haven't really experienced since birth.

I omitted the idea of breasts implants because the ingenuity of it was something I just could not accept. But still, even as a safer and more natural alternative, bust enhancement already anchored me to the abyss of the vainpot club. Though it beats going under the knife, the thought of pursuing such superficiality made me feel like a hypocrite. But my legs had minds of their own, striding in quick steps towards the devil's lure.

The consultant was a friendly woman called Helen with massive ballooned breasts and a protuberant belly to match. I expressed my interest in the promotion, and talked about my childhood woes. Louis promised to wait whilst shopping at ION. Helen brought me to a room for examination. I was greeted with an acrid smell of tea tree and Dettol. Helen then put on a surgical paper mask and a pair of reading glasses.

A lone surgery lamp stood beside the surgical chair. I was made to bare my breasts standing in front of the blinding white light emitted from the lamp. Having snapped on a pair of doctor's latex gloves, I felt the rubbery texture gliding across my areolas, curving as Helen reached below the slight bump of my breasts to feel the depth. Her hands went around, over to my back, under arms and stomach.

"Violette, I have good news for you. It seem that favorable results can be attainable as you have a considerable amount of baby fat here..." Helen's fingers trailed down from my triceps, under my arms and at the sides of my rib-cage.

She then keyed the details gathered into the computer before asking me to slip into a green gown. We were going into the massage room. The room was dimly lit, with soothing spa music and a flat out bed. I was instructed to lie on it after getting out of the gown. I covered my lower torso with the warm blanket provided, exposing my breasts. Helen returned to the room with a tub of gel and a strange machine.

Working as she spoke, Helen pasted several pads that were connected to the device onto my breasts after applying a layer of the gel. She explained that the machine's duty is to create pulses that will stimulate blood circulation. The pads were strategically placed at vital blood vessels to maximize the blood flow. Not only was the cream made to lubricate and protect my skin, it also has herbal properties to help stimulate growth.

The machine whirred to life upon the touch of a button and I felt the pulses on my boobs. It did not hurt the least bit, and was surprisingly relaxing. Helen left me to rest for 20mins. I closed my eyes and allowed my mind to wander into the surreal world created by the melodious music that was playing. I soon dozed off, and was woken by the cold touch of Helen's fingers as she removed the pads.

A large blue tub replaced the gel on the table as Helen reached in, scooping out generous amounts of a bluish gel and smoothing them onto my breasts. The gel felt cold and slimy, but smelt of lavender. She then proceeded with a therapeutic massage, claiming that the massage is to actively push the baby fats towards the bosom, and the gel helps to firm up the collated fats into the breasts. The gel as she boasted, contained 17 natural plant extracts one of which produces hormones that induces "puberty of the boobs".

After a rigorous massage, my breasts felt sore and alarmingly firmer and fuller. I stepped out of the clinic feeling satisfied and slightly sexier. I have signed up for a 1000 dollar package, which consists of 12 sessions, and a complimentary bust cream to apply at home nightly. Louis then met up with me with multiple shopping bags and a huge smile on his face. "There's a massive sale going at Armani Xchange! The crowd is crazy. I bought something for you!"

We sat by the fountain outside Ngee Ann City as Louis peeked into all his shopping, and singled out a paper bag from Armani Xchange. Folded in crepe paper, was a party gown in midnight blue. Made of soft silk, the dress looked as though it used to be part of the night sky until someone cut it and fashioned it into a dress. Beautiful swarovski crystals glittered like stars against the fabric, shimmering and dominating the upper half of the spaghetti-strapped top. A demure V-slit cornered the lower right of the skirt hem, and an enclosed zip held the back of the dress together.

I gave Louis a tight hug and promised to wear it the next time we plan our drinking session again. I was on top of the world that particular Wednesday. I felt accomplished, sexy and genuinely exultant. Back home that night, I told Cary about the package that I have signed. She kindly offered an aged old home recipe that has been passed down by her mother's ancestors, it was a recipe for a special tea that will trigger estrogen secretion, which in turn will stimulate the growth of breasts as the body will be tricked into thinking it's time to breast feed.

China people really do have more than just a few tricks up their sleeves, huh? With the recipe safely tucked away into my wallet for easy perusal when shopping for the ingredients, I made supper for Cary and I as we sat down and chat. Her school term was commencing the following week, and she urged me to take a diploma cum degree with her.

It was a shame Cary had no interest in sales, for her glib tongue can surely get her places. Even my staunch stand on No-more-studying shook at its roots, and crumbled a little as I let her talk about how important the few pieces of paper would be for me to survive in Singapore. But deep inside, I had a feeling she was just afraid of being lonely in school, for I know a girl like her would definitely find it hard to make friends with the other girls; either that, or it will be Gossip Girls, China edition with all the fake facades and sanguinary backstabbing.

 Fashion designing was a juvenile and silly secret ambition of mine since I was a little girl. But if I were to agree and sign up for the courses, my finances would be really tight. I did not raise my financial issue to Cary however, as I wouldn't have accepted her help on this. She looked at me with that ineluctable pleading eyes that made me just exclaimed "Okay Okay! I'll go down to your school on my next off day to check out the course commencement date okay?"

Cary did a small dance of victory as I pretended to slump against the table in exasperation. The night ended with me washing the dishes, of course, as the princess was afraid of corroding her silken hands with the dishwasher. She was on the phone with Kevin all night.

A few days later, I went back to the clinic for my 1st official session of bust enhancement. After the same procedures as the trial provided, I exited the shop rubbing my breasts, as though the cells of my mammary gland were undergoing cytolysis. I had started to drink the tea that Cary suggested, and it tasted really bad. The things that women would do for beauty, I was growing to be surprised at myself.

Just as I was making a turn right at the corner of Ngee Ann City, I got a glimpse of a familiar figure going up the escalator. I squinted for a clearer view - It was Kevin. And he was not alone. In his company, was a Caucasian woman. There was no intimacy involved, but I bit my lips in bias dubiety. I guess my intuition about Kevin when we first met was pretty accurate. I felt anger gushing to my head, almost as though it was my own relationship.

But I had no idea if Cary ought to know about this, but to me, the hurt could very well be a knife of hope, before its too late. Or maybe... it already was.

Lesson 6: In the game of hearts, sex is a chip and love is foul play. 

Chapter 5; Knife of hope

Cary pulled me close to her as I leaned my head down to allow her to whisper into my ears: "Look not at what they wear, but the bottles on their tables and the watches on their wrists."

I nodded in comprehension, scanning the vicinity, trying to make out the labels of the bottles. My passion for alcohol had granted consummate level of the different brands and price, though sad to say, that adroit ability did not apply to watches. Jack Daniels, Belvedere, Chivas and Martell. There are tables with one sole Belvedere, shared by at least 5 men. Cary looked at me expectantly, like a Master who's awaiting her disciple's final testament.

My surveying ended, finally landing on a table against the far end of the wall, away from the DJ and the dance floor. Two men dressed in smart business attire were standing around it. My observant trait sets in, and judging from their hand movements and manner of speech, I gathered that they were good friends, and that it was just two of them. Two bottles of Martell stood haughtily on the table, and one was unopened, the other with 1/4 left. It was then easy to assume the men had came before, probably regulars and the 1/4 bottle was leftover from their previous visit.

I directed Cary's gaze to their table with a small tilt of my head. She smiled and nodded happily, patting my head like a proud mother. Just as I was about to ask what happens after the target is chosen, Cary was already making her next move. Holding my hand, she pulled me to the bar which was merely 2 tables away from the 2 men. She ordered two cups of vodka lime for us, and motioned for me to sit at the empty table closer to the bar, further from the men.

She then arrived with our drinks as we sipped daintily from the tiny straws. I stirred my cup absentmindedly, enjoying the clinking sound that the ice cubes made. She pulled up the stool to be seated parallel to them, to ensure that she was within their vision, but not directly. We made small talk, and at the corner of my eye, I noticed the men stealing surreptitious glances at us. The strange vibe inside me gained control as I delved 3 fingers into my fringe, running them through my hair before reaching the back of my neck, exposing my wrist outwards, lingering for a split second before trailing my hand slowly and deliberately over my collarbone, as though smoothing away stray strands of hair. The familiar gesture has been secretly practiced many times after I picked it up from the woman I met on my way home ages ago.

One of the men managed to catch Cary's attention and they exchanged glances. Cary's aura evoked friendliness that was inviting and sensual. I tilted to face them, and realized one of them had left his seat, with his cup in his hand, sauntering over. Cary raised her eyebrows at me, with a "They're hooked" kind of face and I flashed a smile.

"My, do you girls look stunning tonight." The man was local, and judging from his slight accent and words, he should be quite well educated. He was quite built and big-sized, with a square jaw and eyes that were small, but twinkly. He wasn't exactly handsome, but he had a pleasant and jovial charm.

I remembered how Cary was weak in English and I knew the next move had to be from me. I stretched out my hand for a shake and said, "Hello there. Thank you for your lovely compliment. I am Violette, and this is my friend from China, Cary."

The man then nodded in acknowledgement, his hand reaching out for Cary's, they shook hands and I saw Cary taking a quick glimpse of the over-sized chain watch on his hand. "Hi Violette, hi Cary. Kevin here." He smiled, and it was the typical kind of salesman-smile, well-seasoned and copiously drilled with tactical schemes.

"Would you ladies be ever so kind to grace our night with your presence?" Kevin extended both his hands. I turned to look at Cary for her cue. She nodded and got off her stool, cup in one hand and holding Kevin's with the other. I followed suit, readjusting the hems of my dress as I got off. As we approached their table, the other man who was slightly smaller in size got up for a handshake.

He was decently dressed, and from the signature cutting of his shirt, it was probably Marc Jacobs. He was not as pleasant looking as Kevin, but had lean muscles and a better figure. We exchanged handshakes with both of his hands grasping mine, and his smile was deep, and more sincere than that of Kevin's.

"I am Kai. Pleasure to know you, Violette." He spoke with an American accent.

The moment Kevin poured us drinks, I knew there was a problem - They seemed as if they couldn't speak Chinese for nuts, whilst Cary can't speak English to save her life. Kevin was attempting to strike a conversation with Cary in his fast, fluid English. She then shot me an SOS face and I knew I had to get her out of that awkward situation.

"Kevin, go easy on her. Cary's trying to improve her English. Perhaps she'd love for you to be her teacher." I teased, attempting to make it sound like a joke, fingers crossed that it wouldn't dampen the placid situation instead of saving things. I ended my statement with a chuckle.

It seemed that night was my lucky night as Kevin immediately gave a smart reply, looking at Cary with his glass held up, he said "Well Cary, I am trying to improve my pathetic Chinese. Perhaps you would like to help?" Cary smiled and nodded happily in response, her cup raised for the toast.

Kai and I left them to chat as I agreed to follow him outside for a smoke. I hated cigarettes, having tried to persuade my dad to quit since like forever. But ever since I started working, I knew social smoking was inevitable to encourage bonding. Kai took out his Marlboro menthol and lit it up. I leaned against the wall, my legs crossed as I balanced my clutch bag over the ledge and proceeded to tidy my hair, combing through softly.

"Is Kevin interested in Cary?" I asked, having ran out of the same old personal questions back in the club.

"I am pretty sure, yes." Kai replied, flicking the cigarette ash into the ash tray with expertise, and he continued "Will I see you again? Violette?" he dived into his pants pocket and took out his blackberry.

"Well... I suppose so, if Kevin and Cary will be doing the same." I proceeded cautiously, not wanting to trust men I meet in the club too much. The stigma surrounding the quality of men at such places was too strong to ignore. Kai nodded and handed me his phone, which I then typed in my contact number.

The rest of the conversation digressed to various talk about our hobbies and Kai's job scope. We then went back into the club after his 2nd stick. Cary was alone at the table when we arrived. I gave a bewildered look and she responded "Oh, Kevin went to get some warm water for me."

I smiled and said "Oh, that's really sweet of him huh." I gave her a playful nudge. She giggled and raised her glass, proposing a toast to Kai and I. My alcohol tolerance was tremendously high, trained by the regular drinking sessions with my work colleagues. But I could see that Cary was a fair bit tipsy.

Kevin returned with a glass of warm water, which Cary gratifyingly finished in one breath. After lots of chat in terrible Chinese and broken English, Kai took me to the dance floor, whilst Cary wanted to remain in her seat, for her sky-high heels and tipsiness made it impossible to dance. I was reluctant to leave without Cary, but she urged me to go ahead. Adrenaline was already rampaging in my bloodstream, and thus, I obliged.

The dance floor was packed as Kai grabbed my hand and fought our way through the crowd, taking place right in the middle of two dance podiums. His hand was on my waist in a polite manner that was far from indecent. I appreciated the respect and wrapped my arms around his back in return. We swayed in a synchronized manner and he was smiling the whole time. It felt nice.

Just as our dance was in full swing, Kai twirled me around and I saw... Darren. He looked so dreamy in his black v neck tee and white blazer that was glowing under the UV lights. His matching white jeans was held together by his G-Star Raw belt, one whose buckle I was overly accustomed to. In his arms, was not Wendy, but another girl. She was dirty dancing on him, her hands tugging at his blazer, pulling his shirt hungrily. He was like a connoisseur, his body grooving to match her rhythm, playing the support to her lead.

A sharp pain seared across my heart, piercing right through. Its annoying how you can get used to all sorts of physical pain, but still fall prey to the agonizing freshness of a heartbreak, as though it was something new, as though it was something you have never expected nor tried to prepare for. I guess I must have begot a crushing force field of negative energy, for Darren suddenly turned and stared at me.

I could have sworn my heart died right there. Those large eyes, smooth skin and defined cheekbones, the sudden recollection of how the velvet of his skin felt against my fingers sent a jolt of euthanasia-like paroxysm  throughout my body and I felt so exposed, so vulnerable. He smiled at me as though I am a stranger, but I could tell in his eyes, he detected a sense of familiarity that he just could not place. Strength of my hatred abandoned me right there, as I could not muster any ounce of energy to look away.

Just as it seemed I have been astral projected into another universe, Kai summoned me back to Earth with a concerned tug on my arm. I smiled and allowed him to pull me into an embrace. The scent of his CK perfume asphyxiated me as I tried to stifle the pleas of my heart, crying Darren's name. And he did not give up upon seeing I was Kai's dance partner. I saw him pushing his way through the crowd, the mysterious girl he was with no longer by his side.

"Have we met before? You seem vaguely familiar." Darren placed his hand on my shoulder. Anger was strewn across Kai's face as they engage in a battle of ego with no horizon. I stopped Kai's arm, which was about to strike in protest. I whispered into his ears "Wait for me at the table. I will be right back. This is a friend." He obliged, backing off reluctantly after shooting Darren a warning glare, which Darren has conceitedly ignored.

I felt the strange vibe coming back to me again as I said nothing, my ache for his skin against mine too overpowering. My hands were clawing seductively on his blazer, before i turned my back against him, right hand raised over my head, touching the nape of his neck as I pressed my body on him, my ass working against his growing erection. I slid up and down like a cat against its scratch pole, my body channeling enthrallment. Just as I turned back around to match his gaze, I saw the lust in his eyes. Darren's hand was devouring every inch of my ample bottom, as his free hand was on my chin, pulling us closer.

"You are so hot." he whispered, his voice oozing with complacency as though he has caught the bait. Just as his fingers left my chin, they started sliding down... reaching for my breasts. I relished that moment, but realized I was falling into his trap again. I grabbed his hand firmly to stop his advance, a potent mix of hatred and disappointment squirming in the abyssal pit of my core. Looking into his eyes painted with shock, I shouted, my words coated with anger, but driven by extreme pain "Yes, we have met before. I am the girl whom you have fucked and thrown away. The girl you wouldn't fuck again even with a bag over her head. Now get out of my sight or you won't get to see your sluttish balls again." I swallowed hard, the overwhelming heartbreak let loose a fury of tears.

I gave him a shove, leaving him traumatized and utterly embarrassed before slipping out of the hoo-haa i have created smacked in the middle of the party crowd. The words that left my lips felt bittersweet. It was like a thirst that was finally quenched, as I felt as if I had managed to hurt him back, even if it was inconsequential. The pain still stung, but this time, it felt like a knife of hope... Leading me to freedom.

I returned to the table after drying my eyes, where Cary greeted me with a hug. She was sleepy and thus the guys agreed its time to leave. I tried to remain composed, the Aquarian in me fighting to appear detached and emotionless. Kai never stopped looking over from the front passenger seat and I smiled every time he did. I promised to text him again, and thanked the men for the ride home before helping Cary out of the cab and back to our house.

Lying in bed, the dreary dead of night choked with melancholic atmosphere as loneliness and heartache were let loose, engulfing me like ravenous flames. I closed my eyes, the inebriation of alcohol swam in frenzy, pulsating at my brain. With power beyond my control, the night of my first sexual experience replayed in front of my eyes.

It was a Saturday night and my parents were out. Having planned for that day to be our movie night, Darren came over, with the Sadako VCD, a couple of Corona Extras and gourmet popcorn. I loaded the show as he removed his Birkenstock, placing them neatly on the shoe rack. He unfastened his G-star Raw belt, using the in-built bottle opener of the clasp to undo the caps of the beers as I reached out to touch the jagged material of the belt, holding the clasp with my fingers, I helped to fasten it back as he planted a kiss on my forehead.

We downed 5 bottles each and it was halfway through the show. The interim high derived from the booze got his cheeks in a beautiful rose blush as we started making out. His tongue fought through my lips desperately, searching for its counterpart as our lips locked, our tongues thrashing about in a ferocious courtship. His hands busied themselves, scrambling about down my back, wanting to explore and own every part of my body.

I felt his right hand sliding into my pants, the middle finger curved.. reaching for my flushing clitoris before delving further to caress the slot. His slender finger worked itself with dexterity, teasing my nether lips, begging for their sacred dew. It went inside, stroking the walls of my sex, persuading their fluid release.
His thumb was pressed against my neglected clitoris, concocting a makeshift vibration by pressing and releasing, casting me into a centrifugal plane of forbidden pleasure. I felt the build-up of an orgasm as I let out a cry, his index finger slipping in to join the middle one, creating a storm, rendering me with shudders.

My eyes were closed and body immobilized as energy was all dispatched to the intensity down south. He scooped me into an upright sitting position, his fingers still indulging in the nectar they had mined, hungry for more. His left hand fumbled clumsily as he tried to remove his belt. My shaking hands arrived at his rescue, working meekly at the clasp. I tugged at his jeans, fingernails digging into his Levi's underwear as I helped him to get undressed. His manhood stuck out right at my face as I pulled down the obstructing innerwear.

His hand guided my head with a gentle push as I parted my lips to embrace his cock. My tongue tickled the throbbing shaft as he moaned softly, his hand stroking my hair. I took him in further, wrapping my warm mouth around his starving erection, which was writhing in pleasure. I built up a momentum, my lips tightly vacuuming the taut flesh, tongue fondling the sensitive veins and the frenulum.

His right hand exited from the wet mess as he pulled down my pants soaked with juice. He pushed me down onto the sofa, his jeans dropped onto the floor as he stood up right. Getting out of the denim, he then climbed on top of me. "I love you Violette, so much that I want us to be closer. I want to feel every part of you." My heart melted and I made no attempt to decline as I parted my legs, my sex crying to be filled. His sweet, deadly lie seemed so real, and I wanted him to know how much I loved him, how much I'd go to give up things for him. Darren lowered his body, his cock was drenched in pre-cum from all the heated excitement, positioned for penetration.

His arms grabbed my shoulders tight as he thrust his manhood into my sex. Pain intertwined with pleasure, sprouting in my uterus, branching out to every inch of my body. "Does it hurt, baby?" Darren whispered, his voice raspy from the gratification of fullness. I shook my head, my hands clutching his firm ass, begging him for more. Darren went faster as his moans met with mine. His cock was long and hard, stretching me, trying to go deeper, and tantalizing my walls that were seething with ecstasy.

His right hand freed itself from my weight as it wriggled under my tank top, fondling my breast crudely, squeezing and rubbing my sore nipple, plucking at it until my moans intensified. I felt his cock welling up inside as he cradled me tighter, going faster, the sound of his hips against my thighs quickened and the flow rapid. He let out a loud groan as he pulled his penis out, his right hand masturbating it furiously as he came, his hot semen strewn across my belly, sweet orgasmic bliss written across his face.

~

The scene faded off into the darkness. I heaved, tears wetting the pillow as I tried to sleep, my heart twitching in agony, with hunger pangs terrorizing my sex, which was still aching with the remembrance of... its first encounter.

Lesson 5: They say what happens in a club should stay in a club.