The lady works alone - or does she?

Lon Kwai Fong is decidedly more upper-class and there are no bars teeming with working girls there. For the most part a guy may stumble across the occasional freelancer, usually Chinese - sometimes even locals and not mainlanders - but these local delights, like the district they are found in, prove to be top-shelf, charging as much as HK$2,000 (US$250) or even more.

Instead most will find that this area is the "yuppie" party district where the middle-to-upper-class women, gweilos (foreign) and locals alike, come to relax, have a good time and be seen in this trendy crowd. A guy is more likely to find a nice Chinese girl here for a proper relationship than a one-night stand.

Tsim Sha Tsui in notably more for the locals - it is dominated by Chinese bars for Chinese customers. To navigate them effectively a newcomer would do better to have a Chinese mate. In these bars a Westerner has to come to terms with lackluster English skills, strange delicacies (chilled chickens' feet?!), and the Chinese ways of entertainment. You do not just order a whiskey or a beer, but a bottle of Chivas or a 12-pack of bottled beers, brought to the table in buckets of ice. Let us also not forget karaoke, for when you are in these bars it seems omnipresent.

The most popular places in this district for a guy seeking some companionship are probably the karaoke/hostess-style bars. These may be one large open bar or seemingly a whole building converted into private karaoke rooms, which are often plush and lavishly appointed. Invited by a Chinese friend during my early days in Hong Kong I met him at such a venue, and found him sitting alone in an expansive and luxurious space that could probably hold 20 people comfortably.

A quick chat on the private room's phone and a waiter seemed to materialize seconds later. A bottle of whiskey, a bucket of beers, and some food that I could not identify were ordered, all in Cantonese of course. With that my friend turned from the waiter and asked me, "What do you think is good?" Apparently he had failed to realize that everything up to that point had been in Cantonese and I was generally lost. He realized his error and turned back to the waiter.

"Lok, lok ..." he said - "six", - that I understood, but not its context.

The plasma TV on the wall was randomly flipping through songs as a team of waiters and waitresses assembled glasses, ice, stirrers, soup, plates, silverware, chopsticks, napkins, beer, whiskey and an array of food. And as quickly as they had come they were gone again. Left alone my friend mixed drinks while I ensured that what I believed were some type of sea creatures on a plate close to me were in fact dead.

Before I had a chance to ask, there was a knock at the door and it swung open a moment later. Six Chinese girls in sheer see-through negligees, under which they wore only g-strings, poured into the room.

"Hoa, hoa 'lok'," I said, "Okay, okay 'six'," giving my friend a knowing wink.

The beautiful and nearly naked women sat down and cozied up to us, drinks were handed out to all, and the night out began in earnest. Karaoke was soon being belted out, food disappeared - and was often replaced - in rapid succession. Karaoke I found is far more tolerable when you have a naked woman on either side of you. In fact, karaoke being sung to me sexily by a naked woman - in a foreign language even - borders on being likable.

This is sort of an "anything goes" environment and as the liquor flows, it usually does. The girls set the boundaries but these seem to rather permissive, as one can grope, squeeze, nibble, bite, pinch, suck, diddle and plant kisses just about anywhere the imagination may lead. The girls are available for short-time companionship in yet another private room - this is negotiable with them and at their option; they are not required to go with a customer. They can also be taken out of the club completely for a night out on the town and more. Finally, I have it on good sources that impromptu orgies in these rooms are not necessarily unheard of.

From the raunchy evening we had, it is easy to believe. By the same token this sort of entertainment is not for everyone, and certainly not for those on a budget. Four hours in a private room - its rental, hourly rates for the girls, and enough food and alcohol for everyone - ran a cool HK$7,000 (about US$875).

There is yet another option for those seeking the company of a lady in Hong Kong. These are sometimes dubbed "one-girl apartments". Prostitution is technically legal in Hong Kong, but police criminalize it using Section 147 of the Crimes Ordinance, which makes it an offense to solicit for an immoral purpose. Brothels are illegal, possibly with the aim being to break up organized prostitution. But interestingly, a loophole seems to exist that allows a single woman in an apartment to act legally as a sex worker.

To a large extent these girls are believed to be run by Hong Kong's organized crime syndicates, the triads, and this might be true. During a recent visit to one such address there were no fewer than six unfriendly-looking gentlemen in the small lobby of the floor with the girl's apartment. Yes, she was available, I was told, and available for one hour at HK$600 (about US$75).

It was probably at this same point that my hesitation caused the problem. Chatting up the triads is not recommended. The "leader" was a guy I mentally nicknamed "Flash" for his trendy clothes and hairdo. His English was passable, and he was apparently not pleased that I didn't just plop down 600 bucks and head in to do my business, but instead asked questions.

The guy seated behind him near the door to the apartment - whom I mentally noted should be called "Tiny" because of his stunning girth - furrowed his brow, and this was the first sign that things had gone awry. A question or two later, this time by Flash, and I found myself in the unwanted embrace of Tiny, while a couple of the four "foot-soldiers" searched me. As an additional note: a business card that identifies you as a journalist is also not something to take into such an environment.

After I was told "Do not come back," Tiny deposited me in the elevator and I was on my way - marginally educated from the experience. I decided a different approach might be in order.

As usual the Internet proved useful to my research as I soon found sites that listed - and even rated - these one-girl-apartment sex workers. Thousands of listings are found online and after spending far too long browsing the listings, I decide on a girl named Pak Suet, billed as a half-Chinese, half-Japanese who - importantly - spoke English (along with Japanese and Cantonese). The site told me she was an "outcall" girl, though the site listed mostly one-girl-apartment girls (in-call), but after the previous experience I decide that this was probably a good thing.

I dialed the number and got a mamasan from the best I could tell.

"Yes, Yes, Pak Suet can come," she said. "Yes she speak English very good. Good more me!" she said with a laugh that seemed to turn to a choking cough. I made arrangements and mamasan told me there was a "short time" hotel that would meet our needs. The services were sold under the guise of massage.

"You one hour, one hour half, two hour?" she asked. I decided an hour and a half should suffice.

"What you want: massage hand, massage mouth, full massage?" I told her "massage hand" would be fine, surmising that this was a massage with a handjob, that a "massage mouth" was massage with a blowjob and a "full massage" was a massage with sex. I then begin to wonder if the girl actually knew how to give a massage, but considering that a 90-minute hand job would be especially painful, I was hopeful of her massage skills.

The day arrived and I honored my appointment, entering the short-time hotel and settling the bill for the room, and was directed to my room. I entered with the help of a bellboy - if he could be called that - and found Pak had already arrived. She was sitting on an armchair beside the bed; the room was far better appointed that I had expected.

Pak was gorgeous, and I immediately decided that the pictures on the site did her no justice. The effect, though, was that I was standing frozen, without a clue what to do next.

Pak wore a silken robe and was flipping though a local magazine when I entered. She immediately turned her attention to me, tossing the magazine on to the night table nearby. She looked over the awestruck gweilo for a moment and finally got up and approached me.

"You speak English, yes?" she asked me warmly with a smile.

"Ummm, yeah," I blushed as I found myself attempting to retreat behind the tiny fire-escape plaque hung on the back of the door. When she reached me, she wrapped her hands around my hips.

"Its okay, relax," she cooed, and kissed me on the cheek. "Just you, me, stay together, massage, what you want, okay?"

I whimpered something along the lines of "okay" and she smiled and backed off. She conducted a brief moment of business and relieved me of HK$800 (about US$100).

"Take off you clothes!" she directed me.

I shifted my weight nervously and wiped a bit of unexpected sweat from my brow - the room was air-conditioned. I hesitated - maybe I should just take off my shirt to appease her?

She turned away from me and walked a few paces to the nightstand, where she lit some incense and deposited the bounty in her purse. She faced me again and dropped her robe to the floor. She was now completely naked a few feet away from me. She was stunning and uninhibited, standing before me completely naked, open and unencumbered by any self-consciousness. Understandably so: this was a beautiful specimen if ever there was one.

"We take shower, off clothes!" she demanded.

I was no longer in complete control and stripped without compunction. She started the shower and I entered the bathroom tentatively. She scolded my behavior.

"You have problem? I not beautiful? You not want?" she asked with scorn - because she already knew most of the answers; any man who wouldn't want her could probably be deemed a homosexual.

"I'm married," I sputtered, as she stepped into the shower.

She looked at me with fleeting disdain and said, "So are most men I have for customer. Come, take shower!"

I dropped my boxers and decided a shower was in order to cleanse myself, besides the target of my story demanded it.

She washed every bit of my body, lathering me up with soap, and even stroking certain bits to excitement that edged on climactic. I stop her and said, "No, massage is okay." She smiled.

"Okay, wash me!" she directed me, handing me the bar of soap. I groaned in lust - was she serious? She was, and I rubbed the bar of soap over her breasts, the small of her back and her buttocks.

"You need wash pussy," she said, pushing the bar of soap in my hand to her groin. I submitted to the moment as Pak kissed me tenderly.

A laugh escaped her and she seemed to keep me at a distance as her body heaved. "Finish shower!" she declared. "You out!"

I obeyed, overly stimulated, and headed out to the bedside seat. I had the problem that I was far too aroused to hide it.

"Lie down!" she said, and without any protest I did. She was of course still naked and I had a strong desire to experience this visually, but I found myself lying on my stomach with her sitting on my lower back.

She was on top of me, massaging me. Her hands rubbed, cajoled and loosened the muscles in my back. Meanwhile I had a hard time ignoring her groin grinding on my tailbone. At some point I was unsure whether she was massaging me for my pleasure or her own - she seemed to be masturbating herself on body. All in all I decided that this was a nice distraction.

"Turn over!" she finally demanded.

"Umm, I like this, I am okay," I responded.

"Need massage front! Turn over!" she instructed.

I groaned and turned over. The biggest problem I had was that - despite extensive effort - I was at full attention. Hiding my stimulation was not an option, and she gave a few cursory strokes of my erection. A handjob certainly seemed an acceptable outlet at this point.

"Massage," I beckoned and suddenly and surprisingly she backed off. She massaged my chest, biceps, arms, even my hands, all the while stroking on, over or near my erection.

She slithered up my body, giving me more of an erotic experience than a massage. Suddenly, she shifted to a sort of "reverse cowgirl" position. Putting her groin about a foot from my face, she massaged my hips, then my thighs, moving down my body to my calves and feet while grinding her herself against me all the way. The sensation was quite titillating to say the least.

All too soon this too came to an end. I estimated I had been there for about an hour at this point while this naked beauty writhed over my body. Finishing off on the feet, she repositioned herself again, this time between the legs, and went in for the kill, offering a handjob, which I refused "Massage okay, very good!" I said truthfully.

With this she ran her nails lightly and playfully over me in a tickle that sent chills up my spine.

"You pay for handjob? You want blowjob? Sex?" she seemed to plead. She was seemingly anxious to please.

"No, no, no problem. I only want massage, and you give very good, thank you," I said, untangling myself, finding my pants and presenting her with another HK$100 (about US$12.50) as a tip, and this seemed to convince her that I was "satisfied".

We chatted for a few minutes as we composed ourselves and she made me promise to call her again soon. During this chat I tried to glean a few facts such as whether she worked for anybody else. She said she didn't. More questions and she became a bit agitated by the interest, so I dropped it. I promised to call again soon. She pecked my cheek as I left the room.

Stepping out into the midday sun and lighting a cigarette, I considered the website and answering service that helped to make this encounter possible and doubted that she could truly work alone. Looking around I saw Hong Kong bustling as usual, people walking hurriedly, some queuing for food at a nearby shop, but one guy caught my attention. About a half-block away a young guy dressed more for an evening out than a day of business seemed to linger around but, more important, even from behind his sunglasses, he seemed to glance at me once or twice.

I made my way in the opposite direction, turning toward a footbridge that lead to a nearby subway station, but decided to cut back to cross the street again, blending into the thick afternoon crowds. Finding a vantage point, I saw our man on the street was finishing a phone call. Minutes later Pak Suet emerged from the hotel in a cute little summer dress and walked directly to a black BMW. As the guy got in the driver's seat, she hopped into the passenger seat, and soon they disappeared in the Hong Kong traffic.

Who really knows - he could be a bodyguard of some sort to ensure the girl's safety from stalkers or other abuse. However, when analyzing the Hong Kong sex and entertainment industry, more often than not one will find a large and organized syndicate facilitating the trade.

Copyright 2005 Asian Sex Gazette. William Sparrow is the Editor in Chief of Asian Sex Gazette and a regular contributor.