China Marine: Tsingtao Treasure

by Buzz Harcus

  "Togedder, here, never!" she snapped. "Dis is all wrong, all wrong." A sigh of indignation escaped her. She had hoped they could become friends again. Dinner had been delightful up to the point where the waiter had interrupted, had told of this sinful place. This would lead nowhere. It was the path to ruination, tawdry, gutter sex. If he had only listened to her, had gone away with her. They could have strolled through the streets of Shanghai, shopping, talking, building their friendship.

  True, her thoughts had strayed thinking of him in a sexual context but not in a setting like this, not now. Their feelings toward one another had to grow over a period of time. Sex would come gradually. If he cared at all, he would go with her. He had to go with her.

  "Harry, please, let us go now," she implored.

  "No." His answer was sharp, exasperated "If you want to leave, fine. Go. It's okay with me. I'm sure you can catch a cab back to the ship. Me. I'm staying. I kind of like what I've seen so far."

  "But vat dey do is disgusting. Decent people don't do dat!"

  "Says who? I don't practice everything that I see, but at least I keep an open mind. Not everyone looks at sex the way you do. Sex is whatever the two consenting parties agree to. I'm staying. 'This is my night in town, and I'm sure as hell going to enjoy myself."

  Osa rose, confused, clutching at her coat and package, upset at his bluntness. Harry rose moving to one side to let her exit from the booth only to bump into the waiter, Wong.

  "You're drinks, sir," he grinned, placing the two double scotches on the table.

  Harry was surprised at seeing him. Where the hell was Sunny? The iceberg was leaving and it was time for the good times.

  "Sunny is in the fashion show," Wong said answering the unasked question. "She'll be out shortly with our bevy of beautiful models."

  "Thanks," Harry replied peeling off a ten spot and handing it to Wong with a wave of his hand, no change necessary. He shoved a double scotch over in front of Osa.

  Her eyes glistening with tears, she continued to stand, still blocked by Harry from leaving the booth. "Harry," she whispered, "don't treat me like dis, please. I am not dat kind of voman, please, go vis me."

  "No. I vant to stay. I vant to enjoy myself." He mimicked her pleading whine. "Have a good trip back to the ship."

  Of a sudden, a loud, solid, sensuous disco beat filled the theater and a dazzling display of flashing, pulsating lights splashed a montage of wild colors around the room. The colors changed constantly to the throbbing beat of the disco brightly lighting the curtain that had closed in front of the movie screen.

  Osa backed away from Harry collapsing on the seat burying her face in her hands, sobbing bitterly, unable to stop herself. She wanted to run but she couldn't; she felt paralyzed, confused that she was not in control of her feelings, confounded at the aching in her heart, the longing she felt for this man. She turned away from him facing the stage, tears streaming down her cheeks, yet knowing he had sat back down oblivious of her, not caring one bit about her feelings. Her hand wrapped around the double scotch and she downed it.

  Chapter 49

  LUST TAKES A POWDER

  Good evening lovers," a sultry female voice announced. "Now that you've had a chance to get to know one another better, to get in the mood, in the groove, and your motor's purring nice and easy, we proudly present our special fashion show, our piece de resistance, Fashions ala Freddie!"

  The volume and beat of the music intensified as the large curtain parted. The sexy, sultry voice continued. "Our first model is Sunny, a native of Shanghai, and one of our favorite models. Sunny runs her own chic boutique in the lobby of the hotel during the day and models our special fashions in the evening. She's one of our most popular models."

  Sunny had stepped through the curtain moving toward the audience. "Sunny is wearing a beautiful flaming red peignoir with low-cut bodice and, of course, her ever present smile." Osa's eyes followed the beautiful Chinese woman, the swing of her hips and the flagrant way she displayed her body. Disgusting. The wispy material barely hid her body from view of the audience.

  Harry, too, was looking at Sunny, his eyes bulging. She was breathtaking. She had walked across the stage to a small ramp leading out into the audience. As she reached a point close to him, she stopped, winked, and slowly pirouetted before him ending in a bump for his benefit. Harry grinned, applauding. Tonight, he thought, tonight. She's gonna be the best damned thing to come into your life in ages, Martin, he told himself. Hot damn!

  A tap on his shoulder brought his attention to his left. Wong held a small card before him. Harry held it up to the light and read it. He laughed, turned and thanked the waiter, cocked his head toward Osa shaking it no, and stuffed the card in his shirt pocket. "Not with this one. Maybe later, but thanks," he chuckled.

  The announcer introduced the next model, Mei Ling, who came through the curtain alluring in a thin, silky transparent blouse and matching tap pants.

  Harry took the card from his pocket, re-read it, and chuckled Osa looked over at him. She had seen the waiter stop and hand him something. They were making jokes about her.

  "Vot is so funny?" she demanded "Are you making jokes of me now vis der vaiter?"

  "No. Nothing's funny, and we weren't making jokes about you," he replied. "He gave me this card and I thought it was funny. It didn't concern you at all."

  "Let me see der card."

  "You won't enjoy it."

  "I vill be der judge of dat." She grabbed the card from him and read it.

  PRIVATE ROOMS AVAILABLE IN HOTEL. SOFT LIGHTING. SOFT MUSIC. WATER BEDS. LARGE MIRRORS ON CEILING AND WALLS. ADULT FILMS ON CLOSED- CIRCUIT TV. YOU WILL LIKE. LET YOUR WAITER OR HOSTESS KNOW OF YOUR DESIRES. THEY WILL MAKE ALL NECESSARY ARRANGEMENTS. THE MANAGEMENT.

  "Disgusting!" she said thrusting the card back.

  Harry took the card and tucked it in his shirt pocket. "Yup," he agreed ruefully, "especially if you've only got one night in town." He shoved the second double scotch over in front of Osa. Again, her hand wrapped around the glass.

  The show continued. Osa watched in amazement at the gaudy fashions being shown by the models, clothing she would never buy in a lifetime, the kind of clothing she associated with cheap girls, harlots, whores, the kind of clothing only worn by women who gave freely of their bodies to satisfy the carnal desires of despicable men; women who subjugated themselves to the lustful, erotic perversity that men were known to crave, the kinds of things portrayed in the movie, things she never dared do.

  Yet, in the darkness of the night lying restlessly in her bed, she had entertained such prurient thoughts, wondering what it would be like to recklessly abandon her body, to be totally submissive to a man, to Harry.

  Since the moment they had first met she knew he would be special in her life. Glancing in his direction, she recognized the look of lust in his eyes as he intently watched every model parading across the stage, their bodies enticing under such thin lacey material. Her thoughts strayed back to those restless nights of late, lying in bed thinking of him, the way he had held her, his demanding kisses and the sexual longing that stirred within her as his hands encompassed her body. And then her hand would move stealthily down along her thigh slipping under the hem of her nightgown and, much like the maiden in the film, would bring wanton release.

  No! She knew she had to leave even though it meant losing him. Good girls shouldn't be here, not in this place, not watching such prurient, suggestive films, explicit scenes that filled a woman's mind with lascivious thoughts, the thoughts she was now thinking. Her heart was heavy, mind confused, and that inner aching, that yearning to have Harry touch her, caress her, consume her blocked out everything else. No! She must push all prurient thoughts from her mind. She would leave right after the fashion show.

  But another part of her told her to stay and enjoy, taste the forbidden fruit, enjoy the fulfillment of her innermost secret fantasies, the kinds of passionate moments she had seen so vividly portrayed on the large movie s
creen, fantasies she thought only she had ever dreamed. She carefully set the empty glass down on the table. A heady feeling seemed to encompass her as the alcohol flowed freely throughout her body, a relaxed feeling, somewhat akin to euphoria, a sense of bliss. She stole a glance at Harry. He was totally absorbed in the show.

  The fashion show continued. Each model was as beautiful as the one before. All were tall, leggy, full bosomed, curvy-hipped and proud of their winning figures. The erotic display of lingerie drew applause and gasps from the attentive audience. The clothing included thin, almost transparent nighties, gowns, skirts with long thigh-high slits, sensuous French bikini panties, garter belts, thin bras, open-tipped bras, thigh-high stockings in a wide array of colors, Teddies, colorful thin silk blouses, even attractive dresses and suits for the after five cocktail hour.

  The announcer ended the fashion show by calling all the models forward to the applause of a very enthusiastic audience. The announcer also added that all of the clothing was available at a modest price and to let their hostess know of their desire. "After all, men, these clothes were designed to show off and compliment the female form, and to stimulate you, her lover. Be nice. Buy your companion a gift. Let her know you care."

  To continuing applause, the models left the stage as the curtain parted. Almost instantly, the lights dimmed and the next film began: School for Marriage.

  Chapter 50

  PEOPLE DO CHANGE

  “I thought you were leaving," Harry said turning to Osa, A somewhat irritated that she was still here. There was a sharp edge to his voice. His night of unbridled lust was about to begin in the arms of beautiful Sunny and he sure as hell didn't want any interference from the iceberg.

  "Vell, I -" Osa started to speak but stopped short as Sunny swept into the booth. She was still wearing thigh-high black nylon stockings, satin French panties and an open-tipped bra, her nipples standing forth teasingly hard. She slid in next to Harry resting her hand on his leg, pressing tightly against him. Osa's mouth gaped wide not believing a woman would so shamelessly approach a man so scantily dressed.

  "I had plans for us this evening," Sunny whispered softly in Harry's ear, emphasizing her intentions by swirling her tongue quickly around the inside of his ear. Harry sat electrified at her touch, an erection straining to burst out of his pants. Turning, he looked into dark eyes sultry with desire, red lips full of promise and then she was kissing him passionately, driving her long, slender tongue deep within his mouth snake like it its exploration, then withdrawing it leaving him breathless.

  "I've got to go now," she murmured, her voice faltering. "I waited as long as possible for you, but -" and she gave a quick glance toward a still gaping Osa - "I have another 'friend' waiting. Sorry. I'll look for you tomorrow night, alone, and I promise it'll be special, just for you." She gave him another deep wrenching kiss and then fled.

  Harry sat trying to catch his breath, trying to sort out what had just happened. "What a woman," he gasped. He found himself trembling at the thought of what it might have been tonight, just the two of them. "Dammit!" he swore softly to himself. The full impact of what had transpired hit him solidly like a punch to his gut; he was alone. He had struck out because of, because of the iceberg.

  Jamming himself back in his seat, he folded his arms across his chest in disgust and stared up at the large screen. There it is shithead, he told himself. The only sex you'll get close to is right there on that big screen! That's your action for the night. He didn't bother to look at Osa. It made him sick to think she was still there, that her being there had cost him his one night in Shanghai.

  Osa had watched the incident with Sunny in embarrassed silence, experiencing a pang of jealousy at the brazen way Sunny had touched, kissed and spoken to Harry. Never could she recall having felt this way about a man, not even Rudy, and they had courted through high school and college. It was as if she were once again a young schoolgirl competing for the attention of a boy, that first special boyfriend.

  She had fought Helga Sorenson, wrestling her to the ground, pulling her hair, biting, punching, their pubescent bodies writhing on the fresh spring grass at the back of the schoolyard. She had won, had received a bloody nose, but to this day she couldn't remember the name of the boy.

  In spite of her disgust at Harry's actions, he had sparked the embers of desire; she was about to burst into flame. Never had she wanted to possess a man, or be possessed by a man as she did at that moment. She blushed at the thoughts coursing through her mind as she slid across the cool leather seat and put her arm around his shoulder, her other hand resting lightly on his leg.

  "But for tonight you're mine," she whispered huskily, softly running her tongue around the inside of his ear.

  Harry jumped at her touch, startled, turning to see if it was really her. He found himself staring into sultry, inviting blue eyes. Damn, he thought, it must be the booze getting to me. This is the iceberg!

  Before he could react, she pulled his head forward planting a kiss fully on his lips, driving her tongue deep within, searching, withdrawing, forcing it deeply within again several more times, then withdrawing leaving him gasping.

  "I'm a fast learner," she whispered, her hand inching upwards along his leg. His manhood swelled, suddenly becoming uncomfortably hard. Her hand moved lightly across the bulge and she smiled. Moving her hand to his cheek, holding his face to hers, she kissed him again, whispering softly, "Der films are interesting, but I need a good instructor, you." She shifted around snuggling under his arm, pulling it around her shoulders. His hand coming lightly to rest on her right breast.

  Harry was stunned at her change; she had just done another one hundred and eighty on him. What the hell was coming off? She snuggled closer emitting a sigh of contentment. A grin broke across his face. What the hell, when in Rome. He pulled her closer, his hand cupping her breast bringing a sigh of pleasure.

  The film credits had rolled past already. As they looked up at the screen they saw it was a period film, one set in France at the time of Louis the Fourteenth. A young woman of virtue, wanting to learn all the intimate joys of sex so she could apply them aptly in her forthcoming marriage to a wealthy, elderly Count, had agreed to attend a marriage school, mostly at the insistence of her mother and her lady friends. It was for her benefit, they had chided. After all, the Count had been married twice before and, upon his divorces, had set his ex-wives up in a fine manner. Rumors circulated that he was most appreciative of a giving woman, happily sharing his extensive wealth in return for inventive sexual favors.

  The plot was thin and Harry and Osa found themselves watching the young woman as she entered the marriage school learning from virile young men and women such techniques as would make her marriage more satisfying, more secure. The young woman went from one explicit scene to another, learning technique after technique and practice, practice, practice.

  Harry shook his head at some of the erotic practices, even beyond the scope of his fertile mind. But he was impressed by the beautiful French maiden who was truly a fast learner and most active

  participant.

  Soon the dark booth became equally exciting as Osa willingly shared intimate kisses, even an approving sigh as her blouse parted and moments later her bra slipped from her shoulders. His hands caressed and kneaded the naked mounds of soft resilient flesh. Osa mewled as Harry's fingers pinched her taut nipples and then one breast was drawn into his eager mouth. Her body and mind responded willingly to his every whispered suggestion with gasping sighs of approval.

  By the time the French maiden was excitedly thrusting her way through graduation exercises under her pummeling instructor, the Swedish widow, naked to her waist, her skirt bunched up around her hips, was enjoying the personal instruction she was receiving and was just as excitedly looking forward to her graduation exercises. Harry tingled as Osa became the aggressive one, fumbling with the zipper of his pants, digging inside, and then boldly extracting his rigid manhood. She glanced up at him seeking approval
. Smiling, she seemed to relish her task of giving him pleasure.

  Yet, if it felt good, why, all of a sudden, did he have such a guilty feeling? Why did he feel like he was taking advantage of a highly emotionally charged situation? She wasn't that kind of woman. She wasn't like Sunny. If anything, she was really, basically naive.

  He remembered that night on the ship, vowing to bring her down off that damned pedestal, debase her, rub her nose in it. That had been his goal, to shame her. And he had shamed her, shamed her into coming to the damned porno show. It was true; she had been shamed into it, put on the defensive. Yet, it seemed she was showing him she was capable of making her own decisions.

  But it wasn't right because he was taking advantage of her. She wasn't that kind of girl. Sandy enjoyed porno flicks. They were a real turn on. But that was Sandy; she enjoyed sex. Osa didn't. It was that simple; they were that different.

  Why the hell are these kinds of thought screwing up my mind, he thought as her lithe fingers worked magically. Even his ex-wife, the queen of prude, couldn't compare to Osa's gentle ministrations. She was indeed a fast learner, and damn, but it felt good.

  But the guilt persisted. Why couldn't she have left earlier, told him to go to hell and continued her "saintly" ways. Hell, he could have lived with it. If it were Sunny he would have expected this from her, and more.

  The fantasies he had daydreamed so often of subjugating Osa to his will, of breaking her shell of purity, were coming true here and now. He had wanted her to suffer, to wallow in lust, to get so damned turned on she'd be humping everyone in sight, and then he'd cut her off! But it wasn't turning out that way at all. Deep inside, he realized she meant more to him than just a one-night stand. She was human, understanding, loving, caring. She had feelings. If the truth was known, she probably wished she was somewhere else.