“Oh, did I tell you, I am dying, my darling. “
“How grotesque!”
“Oh, I guess not. I forgot to mention it. I am so sorry my dear.”
“Please, stop talking, now!”
“Okay, my love.”
But if I had continued, I would have let her know about a whole series of exceptionally serious events that had taken place on the previous Valentine’s Day. First and foremost, I received an urgent message from my doctor to come immediately to his office. Once there, he advised me that the tests had come back positive. He helplessly announced that my case was terminal and that there was nothing more he could do for me. He suggested I go see my family, say my goodbyes, and get some peace and quiet before I came to my final rest.
My subsequent visit to my family provided little solace or sympathy. Their response to my situation was to tell me to go see the priest, in order to get absolution for my sins.
I headed in the direction of the church but as I climbed the extended, stone staircase and gazed up at the wooden building surrounded by blue sky, I scoffed at the silliness of the idea. Why would I go there when Wing Chun’s red brothel was right next door! Actually, I must confess I never went to church and I always passed it by and went to Wing Chun’s place instead.
Wing Chun was an old Chinese prostitute with willing hands and open mouth, and who possessed great ability as a masseuse. Generally, Wing Chun gave me a pipe to smoke while she smoked mine and we were both extremely happy. This particular evening started in our regular fashion.
Wing Chun wore a red robe with a red sash. She gave me some opium to smoke while she proceeded to massage me with elegant, elongated strokes. Soon I was in a dreamlike stupor, listening to her seemingly faraway voice praising my size and strength as she reached around and under my body and rubbed my cock sensationally.
Just after, things went bad. I fell asleep and dreamed a nightmare. Given the circumstances, I guess I might have expected as much. Suddenly, I experienced myself running down a rainy, deserted city street that began to shake and crack. I fell into the quake. Out of the ensuing darkness came a phantom-like, undulating twelve-limbed female body with wide swinging hips and bloody lips. With a bewitching grimace, the demon opened her pudenda and showed a prolapsed labia that hung like a rope bridge across infinity.
“Come dance with me.” She gasped as she grabbed me around the neck with one of her twelve arms and shook me. It was quite clear that it was to be the dance of death.
Now it was at this point that Wing Chun rescued me. She slapped my face repeatedly and yelled for me to wake-up. Once awakened, I thanked her profusely and hugged her tightly.
“How did you know to wake me at that precise moment?” I asked.
“You had a look of horror on your face. You saw Kali, you had a vision of your own death. You will die very soon!”
“How do you know that?” I said, “It happens to be true.”
“I don’t need a doctor to tell me which way the wind blows. Look,” Wing Chun stared at me pensively, as if deliberating on a decision she was about to make. “Listen, I want to share something with you before you leave me forever. I want to share my true self as a parting gift.”
I watched her closely from the massage table, trying to figure out what she was driving at. I found out quickly when Wing Chun untied her sash and dropped her robe. There she stood with a full, flagrant erection. Wing Chun had a penis. I was shocked! What a surprise! I had known her for years without ever suspecting.
Wing Chun had a big, beautiful cock, long and thick, with a full ball sac. She asked if I would touch it. I did more than touch when she approached. I stroked it. Wing Chun ran her fingers through my hair and clasped a handful and moved my head closer to her cock.
I hesitated and she said, “Come on boy, I will make a man out of you.”
Thus, face to face with her instrument, I opened my mouth and embraced her. I anointed it with saliva. I let my lips slide downward and I sucked upward with my tongue to complete the lubrication. I became aware of her shaft expanding in length and girth.
I let Wing Chun turn me on the table until I was face-down. Then she pulled me onto all-fours. She climbed on board and matched my hips to hers. She wrapped both her arms around my belly and lubed me up liberally
Wing Chun cooed, “Come on, let’s make two into one.”, as she rakishly entered her dragon. She started whispering into my ear, “Chu, chu, chu, chu, chu, chu,” mimicking the sound of a locomotive. I felt her smoothly slide in and out as she moved forward and backward. I pulled her along like a caboose. Her glide was fantastically electric as she pumped warm cum into my bowels.
When Win Chun was finished, she slowly withdrew, followed by her white slop. In a grand finale, Wing Chun seized my buttocks and spread them wide apart. Soon her magnificent tongue was upon me, slurping up her residue.
“Now you are complete!”, she raved as she pulled me up by the shoulders and gave me a wet, sloppy goodbye kiss, sharing with me the viscous remains of her joy. “You will be my Valentine forever!”
Thus, this is how my Valentine’s Day came to a revelatory conclusion. I staggered out of the brothel into the darkness, feeling a pulsing echo of Wing Chun within. Under the night sky, I was left to ponder the vicissitudes of love and death and offer a prayer that I might see the light of dawn.
