Saturday, September 29, 2012
Nightclub hostess Jessica loses French-kiss bet in rock-paper-scissors hand-game
“Let’s play rock-paper-scissors hand-game,” Chow Kah says.
“Good idea,” I say, sipping my Sapporo premium beer.
“Jessica, I want to play against you.” Chow Kah smiles.
“What to bet on?” Jessica [left pix] asks. She is wearing a bare-back halter top and tight jorts.
“Loser pays winner one hundred ringgit,” Hussein suggests. He taps cigarette ash into a Remy Cognac Martin ashtray and takes a swig of his Bir Bintang.
“No. Not good enough. I pay one hundred ringgit if I lose,” Chow Kah says. “If Jessica loses, I get a French kiss.”
“Wow! You’re a rascal, Chow Kah,” Wati says. “Jessica’s stakes are higher.”
“Okay, let’s begin,” Hussein announces.
Jessica sits straight and adjusts a shoulder strap.
“Rock, paper, scissors!” I say.
Chow Kah shows a fist; Jessica shows an open palm.
“Paper wraps rock -- winner is Jessica,” I say.
“Yeah!” shrieks the 36-24-36 cream-skinned sex bomb.
Chow Kah takes out a hundred-ringgit note from his wallet and puts it on the table.
“Come on, one more time,” he says, rubbing his hands together.
“Rock, paper, scissors!” Jessica yells.
Chow Kah attacks with two splayed fingers; Jessica again displays an open palm.
“Scissors cut paper! I won! I won!” Chow Kah shrieks like a boy in a toy store for the first time.
He leans forward to Jessica but she backs away.
“Let’s not do it here,” Jessica says. “It’s embarrassing in front of so many people.”
“I can close my eyes,” Hussein says.
"Me, too," Wati says, leaning towards Hussein's shoulder.
“We’ll do it discreetly in the store-room."
Chow Kah pouts his lips. “Okay, as long as I get my French kiss.”
“Give me ten minutes,” Jessica says. “I’ll get the key from the store-keeper. You go inside in ten minutes’ time.”
“Wah... your lucky day, Chow Kah!” Hussein says. To Wati: “Want to play with me? Loser takes off one piece of clothing!”
“”No thanks!” Wati sticks out her tongue playfully at Hussein.
Ten minutes drift by. “Okay, time to get my French kiss,” Chow Kah says. He rises and leaves the VIP karaoke room.
Entering the store-room, he sees a shapely figure in the darkness. He kisses Jessica on the lips, sticking his tongue into her mouth. Jessica returns the favour, nibbles his upper and lower lips, and twirls her tongue inside his mouth.
The light is switched on.
Chow Kah is French-kissing 65-year-old Mummy Lulu!
“Eeeeeeek! What’re you doing here?” Chow Kah asks, sputtering away.
Mummy Lulu smiles, winks an eye. “Jessica came to my office to play rock-paper-scissors with me. She said loser has to go to the store-room and remain there for fifteen minutes.”