My Lolita, Que Son [book suggestions .TXT] 📗

down soon. Take me to the Hello Hotel, i said to the driver. That was the name of the hotel i stayed in the last time i was in town. I only remember the name. And hope that it is still in business. I sit and observe the dense motorbike traffic around me. People weave in and out in front, on the sides, and in the rear of the cab like an intricate dance in a beehive. I open the window to smoke a cigarette and a waterfall of engine noises rush in but they sound like the distant buzz of a sea of bees.

 

After how long i don't know, could be an hour, an eternity or even only a minute, the cab arrives at the hotel. The clerk takes my passport and writes my name in the book, then hands me a key. A boy walks with me to show me the way to my room. Third floor. A room with a big window looking down on the street below. I tip the boy and he says thanks and leaves. Closing the door behind me, i take off my clothes, and naked but for a brief, i sit by the window and watch the day change into night. The rain has let up somewhat and on the horizon there is even a ray of blood red sunlight and a slab of blue sky. On the other side of the streets, peddlers in cone hats sit with their merchandises: baskets of fruits and vegetables, and all kinds of other things. Some people are drinking beers sitting on the low stools against the walls. And the noises of the motorbikes fill the air.

 

I take a shower then lie in bed and close my eyes. I am in a horizontal position, and it feels good. But no sleep. I am resting my body only. My head is still churning. I think about D. What is she doing right now? Still at school, or is home doing homework, or on the web chatting with people, or having an ice cream with her friends, or riding around town to kill the time? Is she thinking about me and our arranged meeting? Is she anxious, worried, apprehensive ... ? Or is she thinking nothing at all, and never intend to show up? I don't have her telephone number and her address. All i have is her name, her face, and my fantasies about her, and a place where i might her see her tomorrow. I wonder if i am doing the right thing coming here to be tortured with all these doubts.

 

When i open my eyes, it 's dark. I must have passed out. The clock says 7:15. I take a shower then go downstairs. The clerk smiles at me, i smile back and go outside. The street is still teeming with traffic, and all storefronts are lit up with color neon. I find a restaurant and walk in and find a table at the corner and sit down. The place is packed and full of noisy conversations. Most people are doing heavy drinking. Beer bottles line up on tables, and in cases on the floor. I order my food. My head by then has become empty. I am too tired to think. I sit and stare into the space in front of me, totally lost. I have become a piece of rock. I feel so alone, in this crowd. The feeling is distinct and powerful, as if i am the only one in the restaurant.

 

It takes me a long time to finish the meal. Then i walk out and stop a taxi. I ask the driver to take me to a club. I want live music, i tell him. During the ride, the driver attempts small talks, and asks me if i want "other things." I say no. He takes me to a club called "No Name." Inside, disco lights flash, and young men and women converge at tables. A candle light on each table. And beer bottles everywhere. A male singer on the stage is screaming into the microphone. I squeeze my way to a corner table, and looks like i am the only one alone in the place. Everyone is with companies. A woman approaches and asks me what i want. I want a beer and a double shot of whisky. Who is performing tonight, i ask. PT, she says. PT is my favorite singer. So the guy on the stage is only an opening act. I settle down and consume my alcohol. I order beer after beer and shot after shot. And when PT comes out on the stage and the crowd roar, i am very drunk. I throw a tranquilizer down my throat. That will keep me under control despite all the alcohol. Without it, i will go insane and do crazy things. Even blacking out. Then PT starts to sing that silky voice of hers. Her first album knocked me out ---many years ago. I still love that voice, the voice of a heavy smoker and drinker, the voice of a damaged vocal cord, the voice of an opium addict waking up in the morning. She dances across the stage, shaking her shoulders and hips, singing the songs that make her famous, her signature songs. Most people however, put their heads together and talk, and only once in a while glance at the stage. But they applaud at the end of each song. My waitress make frequent trips to my table, and it is hard for her to do so, since there is not much room among the tables.

 

After two hours and i don't know how much alcohol, i walked out, feeling on top of the world, and ready for more. I wave down a taxi. I say to the driver that i want a whore. He says no problem, your place or hers? And i say my place. He parks his car at a corner after a 10 minute ride and asks me to wait. I wait. Fifteen minutes later, he come back with a woman who looks to be in her late twenties. She has shoulder length hairs and a white face and a pair of red lips and her eyes are large, and she is wearing a long dress. She climbs into the back seat and sits next to me and turns and looks at me and says hi. I say hi. It is dark in the cab so i cannot clearly see her frame and her facial features. But i smell her perfume. She brushes herself against me and i feel her breasts on my shoulders. Soft and nice. I tap on her knees and she pulls her dress up and takes my right hand and places it on her thigh. I feel the electricity go through my entire body: the skin is cool and smooth, like marble. When the cab stops at a red light, i look at her face and find a face that looks so familiar: D's. Oval, almost round, thick lips, and two large eyes the kind of eyes you see in the manga. But i know she is not D. My D does not do this kind of work. My D is an innocent girl who is a student at an art school. What's your name, i ask her. My name is L, she says. My lover for the night. You are not a whore. You are my lover.

 

I tell the driver to find me some ecstasy. After many turns, again, he stops and parks. This time in front of a nightclub. He goes in and out, and drops into my open hands four blue tabs. I throw one down my throat and give one to L, but she says no. You better take it because you need to stay up all night to love me, i say. The driver turns his head and says to L, take it. She listens to him, and takes the tab and puts it in her mouth. It starts to rain again. At the hotel, i pay the driver double the amount shown on the meter plus some more. He thank me and wish me a good night. I and L walk past the front desk. This time it is another clerk, a woman. What room are you in sir? She calls after me. 302, i say, without stopping. While walking up the stairs, L has her arm in mine, as if needing protection and support. As we undress, the drug starts to take effect. I am in love with you and with the world now. Very deeply in love. Boundless and unconditional love. L takes off her clothes slowly. She has a very nice pair of breasts. We climb into bed, and i grab her and her body quivers and i have a feeling that she is melting in my arms while solidifying at the same time. We fuck, and talk, and fuck, and talk. And once during the night she even sings. No sleep.

 

When the sun rises and sends beams of bright light into the room, L, almost in a panic, says closes the curtain. I closes the curtain. In semi-darkness, we fall asleep. But sleep is shallow. I just lie with my eyes closed, my body feels tired, and I listen to the ticking of the clock, the gentle rhythmic sound of the ceiling fan, and the noises of the street below. The whore is lying on her side facing me, her chest goes up and down with each breath. She has firm breasts and a tight pussy and she gets wet easily. I ejaculate inside of her twice. Other times, i just pumped my rod, and feel the good sensations. She orgasms each time, perhaps the drug helps in this.

 

When i open my eyes again, i look at the clock and it is almost noon. I must see D at three. I tap on L's shoulders and wake her up. It's time to go, i says. And i caress her breasts and her belly. Then i turn her face up, and she spread her legs and i feel her pussy and it is wet again. We fuck for the last time. Then we take a shower together, and i pay her when she is ready to go. Do you want to see me again, she says. I may look for you, i say. At the door, she kisses me then turns and walks away. I close the door. I pull the curtains aside and the room lights up. Down on the street, the activities has already gotten furious. I feel a lingering satisfaction when i think about L. I put my clothes on, look at myself in the mirror. There is no sign of sleep deprivation. I look fine. Then i walk out. I descends the step. The cleaning woman steps aside and lets me pass.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seven

 

I have an hour before my meeting with D. No, she will not be a fake. She will be a true woman, all she says about herself will be true, and all i have fantasized about her will prove correct. That she looks exactly the way she looks in the pictures. A childlike young woman with an ever-present bright smile. Yes, by just showing up for the rendezvous, she will confirm that my love for her is justified. Then i will deal with the aftermath later. I want her to accept me and my love and return in kind. I want a real relationship with her, a relationship in the flesh and blood, a relationship of the bodies and the souls. Perhaps boyfriend and girlfriend at first, then will progress to the next step: marriage. I want that to happen to me, to us. She has pumped the life into my heart, she has poured rain on the desert of my heart, and she cannot take it away. Too late now. I don't want to