Best of Asian Erotica, Volume 2

She got her phone and took several photos from various angles. She made sure the newspaper with the date was in them, along with the hotel’s logo. She uploaded them to her computer and filed them under ‘Was it Good for You?’ Who could say where they might leak out to?

He was tempting, all the delicious hard beauty of him. Before she cleaned him up, dressed him and called housekeeping to take him back to his room, there was time. She kissed his ruby lips. Then she sat by him, propped up against the pillows, her legs spread, and ran one hand over the muscles of his smooth chest.

Her mind began a downward spiral of swirling coloured lights, like the credits of a bad Seventies movie.

Club Koyaanisquatsi

Miss Izzy, Singapore

“On a diet?” she asked, giving him a lopsided smile that spoke of contempt and a gross fascination with his bulbous shape.

She was beyond beautiful, with straight, smooth dark hair tied tightly into a French braid and a body of toned, tensed muscles wrapped over a slender frame. Her pale breasts nearly spilled out of an indecently buttoned blouse.

He had been inspecting the chocolate bars on the whole-foods shelf: 100 % organic, high in protein, antioxidants, good cholesterol-but laden with three hundred calories, the equivalent of one meal under his new diet.

He looked at her glumly, a little confused. She raised an eyebrow; “Well?” it said. Her smile taunted him for an answer.

“Uh … yes. On a diet.”

She chuckled audibly before stopping herself by jamming her teeth on the end of her thumbnail. “Sorry, sorry. I couldn’t help it. But I know exactly what your problem is,” she told him.

Kenneth didn’t know whether to feel angry and insulted or flattered that a woman like her was even interested enough in him to say more than,

“Hi!” Yet, an undeniable interest in her eyes suggested something beyond a cruel desire to make fun of him. Perhaps his embarrassment at being seen like an alien object showed on his face because her expression softened. She apologised.

“I know how you feel,” she said. “And I know what you need to do.

You need to stop being afraid of life. When the excitement of other things becomes the chief motivation in your life, then the lazy comfort of food is less of a necessity.”

Kenneth looked at her blankly for a moment before he managed to absorb what she had just said. “Uh … okay,” he replied lamely.

“Come to my place for dinner tonight. Forget your diet. I’ll make sure of it,” she said smiling, her lips curling with excitement. Kenneth swore that look she gave him was carnivorous, but he pushed it out of his mind almost immediately. She pulled out her loyalty card for a club called Koyaanisquatsi, with her name and number on it, and told him to call her later in the evening.

“Just before nine. Let me get my apartment in order and cook up a little something before you arrive. Don’t play me out,” she said, turning on her heel and walking away.

He had turned up that night, and the last couple of weeks had seen the most bizarre days of his otherwise mundane existence. Club Koyaanisquatsi had turned out to be an exclusive place for sexual perversions of all manner, and although it had frightened him initially, making him run away, he came back soon enough.

The decision had been sealed when, the morning after his daunting first introduction to the club, his chaste girlfriend Lynette called before dawn to tell him how much she loved him and to ask if he would please quickly decide on a date for their marriage so she could have her fucking babies and they could use her dying mother’s money to live together in a flat somewhere in the arse of Singapore.

Club Koyaanisquatsi frightened his balls off, but it was a fantasy like he’d never experienced before. He put down the phone on Lynette with a smouldering anger inside, not against the poor girl, but against himself.

That he had been so afraid all his life and stayed fearful of “attempting the uncharted experiences of physical sensation.” That was the exact phrase Vanessa used, and he quite liked the sound of it.

It was a Thursday night, and Kenneth was having problems finding something he was comfortable playing with to add another stamp to his loyalty card.

He’d exhausted the number of times he could claim credit for getting his bottom paddled by the newly initiated dominatrix, and he’d done with the horsehair whip as well. That, he thought was quite unpleasant and unexciting but no worse than getting a tattoo.

He looked at the girls lying on the dining tables, having sushi eaten off their bodies, and wished he could just do that. It actually looked exciting and relatively easy, though he wasn’t quite sure about the wasabi on the balls. But people had to invite you to serve them and only the most gorgeous ever had any opportunity at all.