Chapter 23 An Erotic Morning at the House of Ming-tsu
Chapter 23 An Erotic Morning at the House of Ming-tsu
That morning Li Chang had arisen no less aroused than he had been on the
prior evening, when, in response to Ming-tsu's persistent sexual teasing, he had
christened her tempting breasts with hot oil and then subjected her to a
strenuous tit-fucking that neither he nor Ming-tsu would soon forget. Ming-tsu
had woken to find Li's head buried between her legs, his tongue gently prodding
her clitoris. She had feigned sleep for a few minutes longer, enjoying his
gentle oral caresses.
She did not open her eyes until she felt his urgent penis, stiff with
arousal, pressing against her font of pleasure. Her strong young lover, had
made love -- long slow, sensual love -- to her then. On the night before he had
mauled and raped her breasts with selfish abandon; but this morning, as the pale
light of an early dawn crept through her east-facing window, the guilt-plagued
Li Chang had covered the achingly tender globes that he had so recently
brutalized with a hundred soothing kisses.
But while her body was a responsive as ever in his arms, her mind and her
heart were in another place. For today was the day of her fateful meeting with
George Chan. Today she would pass along the details of Li Chang's life as he
had shared them with her; part of her loved Li Chang, but the greater part
craved wealth and power -- which no one in Shanghai could provide like the
Brothers Chan. With the yang outweighing the yin, her path was clear; luckily
Li Chang's words of praise for Liu, this supposed paragon of beauty and virtue
- made her violation of his confidence a little easier.
She had feigned an orgasm this morning, an almost unprecedented occurrence
for her. But there had been nothing feigned about Li's climax. They had
changed positions several times during their long embrace, but at length he had
been atop her, plowing into her sweet cleft with his usual ardor. As she felt
his excitement rise, she had inserted her middle finger gently into his anus,
and then, just as she sensed he was about to explode, she pressed her finger
hard against the wall of his prostate gland. It was a trick that George had
picked up from Binh - a girl from Cochin China who had entertained him at Madame
Wong's -- and it rarely failed to enhance a lover's climax.
Later, after Li had dressed and left for the day to perform his duties as
ward leader of the Black Scorpions, Ming-tsu had dispatched a young boy with a
message to George Chan that she would come by to see him early that afternoon.
Then, in preparation for her visit to the house of the younger Chan, she had
taken a long luxurious bath in water as hot as she could stand, in order to
soothe the bruises of the night before. Reclining in the scented water,
redolent with fragrant oils, she dreamed of the gowns and pearls, of the
carriages and diamonds that one day might be hers -- if she played her cards
right with George Chan. The very thought sent a fillip of pleasure coursing
through her body - a pleasure that she augmented by touching herself between her
smooth, soapy thighs, letting her knowing fingers play over the soft folds of
her womanhood.
That gentle touch soon led to more urgent caresses; she reached out for a
box of beautifully inlaid marquetry that lay on a small table adjacent to the
tub. She opened the hinged container and her soft brown eyes widened with
pleasure. Inside it was a beautifully carved phallus, supposedly fashioned from
the priceless ivory of one of the fabulous white elephants of the Brahmaputra
Valley. George Chan had had several made for her, but only this one, which she
affectionately called 'Jumbo', had the precise curvature to best give pleasure
to her sensitive vagina.
She removed 'Jumbo' from his resting place and held the phallus upright
between her legs. A skillful artisan had carved two virile testicles into the
ivory at the base of the dildo, and she pressed those solid spheres against the
entrance to her feminine grotto, while she used a loofah to coat the ivory shaft
with soapy water. The aromatic oils she had added to the water imparted a
pleasing slipperiness to the phallus. She stroked her inanimate instrument of
pleasure affectionately, as if somehow her fondling of it might spur the
man-shaped carving to greater efforts on her behalf.
Then closing her eyes, she slipped the noble organ between her legs and
rubbed its firm rounded head against her soft outer lips, gliding slowly upward
from bottom to top and then back again, before letting the solid ivory
pleasure-bearer tease her clitoris with its gentle prodding. Then she eased the
great shaft inside her, a little at a time, undulating her hips in welcome.
Ming-tsu's left hand came up to cup the fullness of her still sore left
breast; a long scarlet nail traced a sensual path around the dark-tipped globe.
As she felt her quiescent nipple begin to react to her touch, she remembered
that Li had told her once, during a post-coital embrace, that an ancient
philospher had sought to prove the existence of God by pointing out the
unfathomable geometry of nature. Could a random universe have designed the
three beautiful concentric circles of a woman's breast ? The outer circle being
the base of the breast itself, inside of that the areola, and innermost of all,
the life-giving nipple, which a fourth circle, a lover's lips, or a baby's
mouth, would one day claim for its own.
Her dreamy philosophical musings soon drifted away, however, as her right
hand worked the massive ivory phallus deeper into her eager vagina, filling her
being with pleasure. She had one shuddering, soapy orgasm after another before
wistfully returning Jumbo to his case and climbing out of the tub.
She dried herself off before a full-length mirror; her breasts had been
very roughly handled the night before but faint discolorations here and there
were the only blemishes on her otherwise perfect body. She had been doubly
blessed by nature -- a face of rare and exotic loveliness, coupled with a slim
body, albeit one with more voluptuous curves than most of her Chinese sisters.
Hers was a rare beauty, and she knew it.
She made a few more preparations for her interview with George Chan,
dressed, and stepped outside into a daylight darkened by an ominous sky. Far
off to the west there were flashes of unseasonable lightning. Ming-tsu trembled
a little. Although not normally superstitious, somehow the dark skies and the
heavenly turbulence seemed like ominous portents of the events to come.
