“Kopi!” Shirley croaked at her closed door while her head spun.
The quiet of the room made her frown. She expected to hear the reply of her helper on the other side followed by the telltale sounds of someone making her a drink.
“Aiyoh!” she cried out in frustration.
Still prone, she fished for her iPhone in the sheets and called her helper.
“selamat,” a voice on the other end spoke.
“Kopi C, boleh?” Shirley whined into the receiver.
From the noises outside, she could tell her helper was out shopping.
“Can in one hour. At Cold Storage,” the older Malay woman replied.
“chiong finish!” Shirley complained then hung up.
Annoyed, Shirley pulled the covers off her and climbed out of bed. She looked around the room and remembered that a man had come home with her last night but was nowhere to be seen. She was still naked. Her left nipple was sore from being suckled with too much pressure by the grown man. Then she inspected her vagina with a finger to determine if the man had the good sense to use a condom or not. As soon as she withdrew her finger, she could tell it was slick with semen.
“Alamak!” she complained then went into the shower and cleaned herself.
While washing, she remembered the previous night. She had been brought to the Tanglin Club with two other girls and the details were rather hazy about who had brought her there. Shirley was well known in the party scene for being the first runner-up in the Miss Singapore pageant and winning Miss Malaysia but those events had taken place when she was eighteen and nineteen respectively. Now that she was twenty-five, she found that the world had changed, and those titles meant quite a bit less than having a million followers on social media or your name on a clothing line.
She had worn a newish dress from Aijek and stood by the bar with another girl she wasn’t quite certain whose name was either. Shirley had gotten quite drunk at Level 70 before someone had offered to take her to Tanglin. Now she felt uncertain whom she had arrived with as the night had been a blur. Suddenly a familiar face came into view. It was a younger man who had paid for all of her drinks at Swissotel.
“Are you having fun?” he asked Shirley.
“Yeah, I guess,” she replied.
“Have you been here before?” he asked, boasting about his membership.
“Yah lah… couple times,” Shirley replied.
The man who brought her, whose name she still couldn’t recall, was rather unattractive with pockmarks on his face from his teenaged years. His face wasn’t handsome. His body wasn’t lean. His clothes were quite nice, and he seemed more than happy to continue buying Shirley drinks, so she decided not to wander away in pursuit of more interesting people. There was always a celebrity or two at Tanglin. Once she had seen Shah Rukh Khan at Tanglin and gotten her picture with the famous actor. Even though she was not typically attracted to Indian men, Shirley whispered, “you can take me back to your room when you are ready” but the Bollywood star smiled at her and then walked away without saying a word. He had been there as part of a marketing campaign and his long-time wife, Gauri, was apparently at the event as well. Later on, in the evening Shirley had attempted to talk to the star again but, out of nowhere, a private security guard intercepted her. Then, almost immediately, a man claiming to work at Tanglin told her that she was invited to return to Tanglin again, along with a registered guest, of course, but she needed to leave for the evening as she had made one of the other guests uncomfortable. Shirley was humiliated and then remembered that was the last time she had been at the Tanglin.
As Shirley thought about the horrible evening, the man chattered away at her, and she pretended to listen while scanning the room for anyone more important. Her eyes kept gravitating back to man across the room. She couldn’t figure why she was so enthralled with him until she realized it was because he was Indian and resembled SRK very slightly.
“I just saw an old friend. I’ll be right back!” Shirley interrupted her host, then calmly walked towards the man who noticed the striking Chinese-Singaporean girl before she was halfway there.
“Would you like a drink?” the smiling man asked her as she arrived.
“McCallan 30 neat – double,” she announced.
The bartender had been nearby and began fetching her top shelf order.
“My name is Bhaskar, and you are…,” he imposed.
“Shirley,” she replied as a Steuben tumbler with scotch was handed to her.
The Indian man was in his late forties or early fifties. He was in decent shape for his age and was incredibly tall. Upon closer inspection, Shirley noticed he was wearing a Vacheron Constantin and a wedding ring. He noticed Shirley glancing at his hand while she sipped the expensive drink.
“Are you drunk, my dear?” he asked.
“Not very,” Shirley lied.
“Is this a problem for you, my dear?” he grinned, flashing a ringed finger.
“No,” she replied flatly.
“Well, it is for me… a problem to be seen! I am going to go out for a smoke in a minute… follow after me,” he replied with a wink.
“Cannot. I am having an enjoyable time here,” Shirley said into her crystal tumbler.
The man frowned, fearing he had just bought the girl a thousand-dollar drink for nothing.
“Won’t you be persuaded?”
“You have a very nice watch,” Shirley commented, absent-mindedly.
“Would you like it, as a gift,” he enticed.
“Yes,” she hiccupped.
“I’ll give it to you at your apartment. But when we get there, you will not deny me, understand?”
“When not your hotel?”
“I am on my third wife, and I don’t feel like paying for her to go,” he smiled. Then he signed the check and walked out the door.
The moment the man left, Shirley’s host and benefactor toddled over to her.
“I was thinking we would go back to my condo now… I just bought in Reflections,” the man begged.
“I must go to the ladies. I will be right back,” she responded, then, drunkenly, walked out the door after the Indian man twenty-five years her senior.
When she got to the curb she saw him in a taxi, like an ordinary person.
“Do you not have your own car?” she loudly asked through the window.
“I have cars in five different countries, including this one. Now, come in the taxi with me,” he whispered.
“Where is your car here?”
“Parked at my landed house in Katong where my wife is sleeping… now come in or no?”
Shirley shrugged and slid into the car, closing the door behind her.
“Ni yao qu nali?” the driver asked.
Shirley recited her address to the older Chinese man and the car pulled onto Draycott and then Scotts Road.
The instant the taxi began moving, Bhaskar made his move and enveloped the young girl. Shirley quickly opened her mouth to accept the man’s tongue as he roughly kissed her and squeezed her breasts though the dress. They had not even reached Bukit Timah road before Bhaskar slid his hand into Shirley’s dress and pushed her thong aside in order to penetrate her with his fingers. At first Shirley tried to stop him but then realized this was exactly what she wanted and let him continue. The driver in front muttered under his breath while the Indian man plunged his fingers deeply into the former pageant queen.
Shirley was incredibly drunk but also quite horny. She became wet quickly and enjoyed the massive finger inside of her and hoped his cock was even bigger. She stared out the window at the passing building while she felt Bhaskar pull her dress to the side so he could put her nipple in his mouth and suck.
“Ooh!” Shirley yelped at the uncomfortable pressure he was putting on her hard brown nipple.
“Have some decency!” the man in front shouted.
Bhaskar fumbled in his pocket and threw several orange hundred dollar bills over the front of the seat. The man scooped up the cash and grumbled to himself.
With the driver back to his task and no longer the chaperone, Bhaskar latched his mouth back to Shirley’ nipple and added a second long, thick finger into the tiny girl’s already crowded pussy.
Shirley did her utmost to remain forty-four kilograms, the same weight as when she was in the pageants. She loathed exercise so her main method to keeping her trim figure was her fantastic genetics and routinely skipping meals. The man on top of her was easily one-hundred kilos, probably more. She had never been with a man much bigger than sixty kilos and she felt powerless in his arms. She began to moan urgently as the man rapidly thrusted his fingers deeply.
Finally, the car came to a halt and Shirley noticed her building rising up through the window she had been fogging with her laboured breathing.
“We are here,” she announced to the man attached to her small breast.
Bhaskar threw another orange bill over the top of the seat even though the entire fare was only thirty-eight. Shirley attempted to compose herself, righting her dress and thong before stepping out of the taxi which now was drenched in the smell of her roughly manipulated pussy.
Balancing herself on her stilettos, Shirley used her card to open the door then walked to the elevator with Bhaskar next to her with his hand on the small of her back, offering support. In the elevator, he resumed kissing the girl and she broke away long enough to say, “camera” to the man attempting to undress her underneath the lens capturing everything that happened in the small box for the security team to view. The moment she opened the door to her condo, Bhaskar grabbed her shoulder from behind and unzipped her dress and slid it down her body. Then he roughly pulled her thong to the floor. Shirley had just enough time to step out of them as she could hear the man unbuckling his belt from behind her.
“Watch!” Shirley cried out.
The man laughed and unsnapped the metal and leather timepiece and roughly clanked it on top of the nearby table. As Shirley leaned over to inspect her prize, Bhaskar’s meaty hand pushed her chest forward onto the table. He pulled her legs into a wider stance then spit on his hand, rubbing the saliva onto his massive, hard cock. Then he rubbed the tip into Shirley’s pussy until he found the perfect angle and penetrated her.
Shirley grunted as she was impaled by the large cock. She steadied herself as the man behind her got into a rhythm of thrusting. As he pounded her from behind, Bhaskar noticed one of the doors in the condo open and a forty-something Malay woman peer out. It was Shirley’s helper who was awoken by the loud sex in the kitchen. She tried to discretely close the door, but she had been spotted.
“Tea! Make me some tea!” Bhaskar commended while he forced his cock into the owner of the condo’s smallish pussy.
The woman continued closing the door, pretending not to hear the man.
“Do not close the door on me! Make me some tea to sip after I finish!” he demanded.
The woman scurried into the kitchen and did her best to prepare the tea while not looking at Shirley, naked and being roughly fucked.
As the electric kettle began to boil, Bhaskar increased his pace and urgency. As the whistle sounded, he snorted and grunted while pumping his load into the girl gripping the table.
After a few moments, he pulled out and a river of semen spilled out of Shirley’s smooth slit onto the floor.
“Wipe that up before you pour the tea!” Bhaskar instructed the helper who quickly swooped in with a damp cloth and picked up the pool of semen that had spilled onto the floor.
“Get a clean cloth and wipe me as well… forget it,” he barked and picked a napkin off the table and cleaned his penis.
“Now pour the tea!” Bhaskar demanded, incredulous he had to continue giving instructions.
Shirley was still gripping the table and leaking.
“Would you like some tea, my dear?” Bhaskar asked the panting girl.
She nodded her head, stood up, then went to sit on a chair.
Bhaskar received his tea first and sipped it while Shirley’s head swam. Despite the tea being incredibly hot, he finished it quickly.
“Pour me another while I get dressed,” he instructed.
Meanwhile, Shirley was ignoring her steaming cup and had begun playing with the watch on the table.
“It is a ‘historiques chronograph’,” Bhaskar said.
The helper stood in the kitchen watching but not saying a word. Fearful to move lest she be barked at again by the large Indian dressing himself in front of her and the naked girl playing with a men’s watch.
“Maybe it will be a nice present for our child? Do you think we will have a boy?” Bhaskar hinted.
“I do not think so. I have a birth control device,” Shirley commented, eyes never leaving the watch.
“Oh that’s too bad. I would have liked to have impregnated you. I have several children by different women,” he boasted as he finished his second cup of tea.
Shirley began to hiccup again as she tried to wind the watch.
“I have the most children in Viet Nam. There is nothing more satisfying than impregnating a young girl… well, you’re not as young as I first thought. You’re lovely but a bit old now,” Bhaskar commented as he tied his shoes.
“I am twenty-five!” Shirley whined.
“Yes, quite old… well, goodbye!” Bhaskar announced and then left without closing the door behind him.
Shirley left the watch on the table and stood up to stumble into her room to pass out.
After she left, the helper closed the door and wiped the semen off the chair Shirley had been sitting in with the same cloth she had used on the floor.