Click here for Mr. Hong Kong Part I (Vegas Pink Monkey).
Click here for Mr. Hong Kong Part II (The Getaway).
Vegas is a strange place. It is like the land of drinking make believe. Scraps of food and an hour of sleep a day are sufficient to support 12+ hours of Goosing and dancing. It is truly bizarre. The next two days felt like a week.
We arrived at the Cosmopolitan (room 5026) where he was sharing a suite with his cousin and a friend. When we got there around 10 am, there were distinctive pleasures of the flesh sounds emanating from the room his buddy was in. It. Went. On. For. Hours! (Or at least it felt like hours. Time elapses differently in Vegas.) I finally decided to knock on the door to ask them to shut the hell up.
The girl (Rihanna, or RiRI as we came to call her), dressed at this point, opened the door and saw me. Rather than getting upset, she grabbed my arm, tried to pull me into the room, and told me to join them. I snatched my arm and ran back in horror to Mr. Hong Kong. What sort of Sodom and Gomorrah had I subjected myself to? In fear of turning to salt, I didn’t look back. But, perhaps I should have. She came out of the room and continued her efforts to get a piece of MoMo. I’m accustomed to attempted accostation by those of the male persuasion, but this hardcore female solicitation was a new one to overcome. Luckily, I was saved by the Ghost of Vegas Present. Said ghost emerged from a wave of Snoop Dogg smoke flowing in from the balcony. He walked into the common space shocking us all. RiRi was petrified out of her aroused state. The ghost turned out to be Mr. Hong Kong’s cousin who had fallen asleep out there only to surface in perfect time to save me from the advances of RiRi. RiRi left because she had to go tend to her illegitmate child.
Mr. Hong Kong and I attempted to sleep. The bass was still reverberating in my eardrums, which made me want to dance. His voice was so soothing, though. He told me a story of an upcoming trip he planned to Africa and his melodic tone gently lulled me to sleep. We slept for about an hour and a half. We then went down to the pool, had some food (of which I ate probably two pieces of lettuce) and drinks, and chatted. Basically, the days were just a waiting period for the nights ahead. But, we bonded. He was sweet and attentive. One of the small details I distinctly remember is him getting up to get something, asking if I wanted anything, then kissing my knee cap as he walked away. It was like we had known each other forever. Note, though, that I’m very cautious of false affection. I endeavored to keep enough distance between us to prevent the triggering of brain chemicals (oxytocin) capable of commandeering my logical, mental faculties.
Nevertheless, I was slowly (or maybe not so slowly considering this was less than 12 hours after meeting him) getting addicted to him.
TO BE CONTINUED…
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