As the men and women single-filed into the bedroom, small talk and suppressed whispers continued to be exchanged. One of the men, the owner of this five-room flat in Jurong, had switched on the CD player and a soft, ethereal tune began to play. The bedroom smelled of cheap aromatherapy oils, and several stubs of candles were lighted around the room, throwing waving, elongated human shadows on the walls. The thick, velvety curtains had been drawn shut. Pearlyn hated the pervasive aromatherapeutic smell that plagued the room, but she chose to grin and bear the odours silently.
The men were the first to take off their clothes, dropping their pants and removing their light-coloured polo-tees or long-sleeved shirts in a haste, impatient to start the session. The women, on the other hand, fumbled with their tight skirts and bra-straps. A few eager men even assisted some of the women with their undressing.
Pearlyn took her time as she undressed, wanting to seize the opportunity to focus the lusty eyes of the men in the bedroom on her. She knew her body well enough to use it to its advantages—her smooth, slender legs, her 36D-sized breasts, and her shaved pussy. It was the latter asset, that shaved pussy, that turned the men on; she knew men were attracted by it, its bareness conveying a sense of vulnerability and virginity that drew men to it. Pearlyn had concluded this with a cold, hard clarity from the numerous group-sex sessions she had attended in the past few months.
The ruttish men wasted no time as they moved in on the women in the group they wanted. A young muscle-clad man approached Pearlyn and began to fondle her breasts gently. Pearlyn moaned in response and arched her body forward, pushing it towards him. “You are number one,” she muttered inwardly.
The young man took her hands and guided her to a sheep-skin rug beside the large bed and lay her on it. Spreading her legs, Pearlyn pressed the man’s head to her chest; the man began to nibble at her hardened nipples. Pearlyn let out a louder groan this time, drawing other available men, unknowing victims, to her web.
She closed her eyes and receded into her secret thoughts, like an elusive sea creature slipping into a deeper, darker depth. The young man jerked her body upwards as he lay on his back, and in this sitting position, Pearlyn guided his hard cock into her, edging it in roughly, causing the man to take a harder bite on her left breast. Another man approached from behind and pushed himself into her ass. Number two, she counted.
Her time would soon be up, Pearlyn knew, but before she went, she would take as many of them with her as possible, like an ancient Egyptian pharoah who brought his whole household, family and slaves, with him when he passed into the next world.
Pearlyn had received the news nine months ago, when she went for an anonymous AIDS test at Kelantan Lane, a month after a particularly hot-and-heavy session when the guy who had doggie-fucked her broke his condom.
Completely devastated by the results, she took a free-fall into an emotional chasm. She wrestled through the whole gamut of experiences, from denial and anger to what-ifs and what-could-have-beens. But one thing that she had refused to come to terms with was acceptance. She refused to back down in the face of death. She had never been a victim, and she refused, even now with this disease, to become a victim.
The only residue from this exhausting existential struggle, after all her emotion, physical strength and will-power were spent, was the deep, bone-dry anger that left an indelible mark on her. This anger soon hardened into a rage that simmered menacingly under her nonchalant facade. And it was this intense rage that gave her back the will to live, to do what she had set her mind to achieve: this plan of revenge, claiming her pound of flesh.
Pulling herself away from the menage a trois, Pearlyn moved on to the small cluster on the bed, their arms and legs all over one another. She grabbed a purplish-looking cock brusquely from another woman and roughly nudged her aside. She began to suck on it hungrily before inserting it into her. She started to pump away, deeper and deeper, and groaned ecstatically with every thrust. Another down, she noted.
So from one man to another, to another, Pearlyn moved among the group of sweaty bodies with a profound determination, making mental notes on who had been exposed and who still hadn’t. Her mind was sharp and her body flushed red from the physical exertions.
Finally, the session wound down to an end, as people started to break away from the action and began cleaning themselves with handfuls of Kleenex and wet tissues. Pearlyn got off the bed, her body shining like a new-born Venus emerging from a giant shell, glistering in the dimness of the room with tiny droplets of cum and perspiration. She moved to the pile of clothes on the floor, picked up her white cotton shirt and silk pleated skirt, and, without wiping herself off, began to put on her clothes. Her white shirt plastered itself to her chest and back, making it almost translucent.
Once she was done, Pearlyn left the master bedroom quietly and went into the living room where she collected her black Gucci bag from the couch.
With a quick check on its contents, and a backward glance and snicker at the bedroom, she left the apartment.
As Pearlyn was about to enter the lift, she dug out her PDA from the bag and flicked it on. Checking through her calendar, she noted that there would be another session this coming Saturday at 7 pm, at an executive condominium in Bishan. “Good,” she uttered softly under her breath, her eyes glistening brightly, with an almost inhuman intensity.
CELIBATION
Lee Yew Moon, Singapore
I feel you come, just before I am about to release the tension that has pleasured me. Your lightness floats on me as you let go. Before I can come, you raise your hips and unsheathe my penis while the rest of you remains on me. You rock your hips and brush your pubic hair along my shaft, leaving moisture on me I will always smell.
Untamed, my penis tingles and strengthens. You peel slowly away from me.
Light floods between us. Dawn brings the squawk of a feral cockatoo which turns my face toward the window. The sky dazzles me. I turn back to look at you, and you are gone.
I’m still hard, throbbing… but unfulfilled.
“So, you say this happens to you almost every morning?”
“Yes, Elder Anton.”
“But we really have no proof that you are capable of…” He paused, probably looking for words that would not offend. Offend his own value system, that is. “It’s quite clear that you cannot get an erection. We have administered the three prescribed tests and it hasn’t stood the test, so to speak.”
“But Elder, I get it everyday, in the morning.”
“So you say. But the council needs to see it. Our orders are very clear—when appropriately stimulated, candidates for elderhood must show… arousal. Otherwise, as the Holy Chapters point out, the vow of chastity does not mean any sacrifice.’
“I know that, Elder.” I was desperate. Yet I paused. “But why would I want to join your Order if I don’t sense that I have been called? It isn’t exactly a life of fun and games I am asking for.”
There was a long pause. “The Inspired Ones were all-seeing. They knew that our Order could become the refuge of all manner of men hiding their inadequacies behind our restrictions and good repute.” Another pause.
“That’s why we have the tests. On admission, all Elders must be fully functional men who have actively given up the enjoyment of those functions.” This was old ground.
“Yet it does not seem you are seeking refuge.” He paused to look at me fully. ‘And your earnestness is clearly deep. I will have to call the Council.” He trotted out of the Interview Room. About fifteen minutes passed. The door opened again. Elder Anton returned with another elder. They were, both of them, solemn.