Best of Asian Erotica, Volume 1

A Perfect Exit

If you could, would you choose the way you were going to die? What would it be? More importantly, would you use it when the time was right?

These were questions Koh Kwan How and his friends often tossed around when he was much younger. Now almost all those friends were gone, and Kwan How was looking at joining them soon. At eighty-three, he had seen a lot of life and too much of death. And now he knew, very much so, which way he would choose. And yes, he was ready to use it. He knew what constituted the perfect exit. And he also knew that it was just about the right time.

All his pleasures were being snatched from him: old friends, loved ones, places he had known and loved. And now even simple, everyday pleasures were being stripped away. It seemed every time he went to his doctor, the man had another list of things he had to deny himself. Kwan How had begun calling the man Dr No: no spicy food, no Kopi-O, no alcohol, no pets …

no, no, no. And, of course, no major physical exertion. His heart was far too weak, his doctor warned, just couldn’t take sudden exertion. “No sex, of course,” the pompous shit had instructed him. Then he had the gall to add, with that smug grin men like him seemed to take pleasure in, “But I guess in your case, that hasn’t been any real temptation for a long time, has it, Mr Koh?”

That ass! Koh was tempted almost every day, at least twenty times. Just because he could no longer act on it … Until about ten years ago, maybe less, he would make his way to Geylang once every fortnight. He’d look around, see what was on offer, then head off to a massage parlour or take a hotel room with one of the pretty China girls who trawled the coffee shops there, looking for old men like him with their plump pensions. What mainly transpired with these girls, at either the parlours or in the hotels, was what Koh and his friends used to call “a quick, helpful handshake below the waist.” Well, he was an old man, even then.

But he still yearned, achingly, to make love to lovely young women as he had many years before, when he himself was much closer to their age. But that, he knew, was just the faint buzz of a dream he could never act upon. Or so he thought.

He met her through the Internet. A nephew had shown him how to connect with the contact groups; after several rounds of exploring, Kwan How came upon the kinkier groups himself. And with that, the one he wanted: the Beyond the Borders group.

He was quite surprised that so many women replied to his blunt request:

“Older gentleman seeks lovely young lady to help him kill himself through sex.” He was worried that at least half of them were police agents who might see this endeavour as a form of assisted suicide. But for Kwan How, it was simply a matter of “imposing a natural death”; as Dr No took delight in reminding him, vigorous sex would almost surely be the end of him. Which was exactly what he wanted. It was, for Koh, the perfect exit.

And this one was perfect in her own way. He had scanned through at least a dozen photos sent to him on the Net, and they all looked interesting, but he was jolted when her picture came up. Su Lon. No, it wasn’t her, couldn’t be; but it looked so much like her, as he remembered her, from over sixty years earlier.

Su Lon was the first love of his life. In some ways, still the only special love. His first love, his first sexual experience. And now this one — what was that name? Sharlayne, this Sharlayne looked so much like his Su Lon. As if she had somehow sprung over all those decades, as lovely as ever, preserved simply by his memory of her. Incredible.

He made contact and they bounced several e-mails back and forth before he sent her his telephone number. Then there was nothing for four days. He began to think she was just playing with him, using him as a joke she could share with her gleefully callous friends. But late that Sunday evening the phone rang, waking him up. “Mr Koh, this is Sharlayne. From that Beyond the Borders group? You wanted me to help you with your project?”

“Yes, yes,” he replied. “That’s right. I … I would like your help. Very much.”

They arranged to meet the following weekend, at his place. He would take care of all the formalities, he assured her, including any necessary legal precautions. There would be no way any authorities would associate her with his death. This would be seen as purely a consensual act between two adults — with very unfortunate consequences. He was surprised that she didn’t seem too concerned about this part of the arrangement though.

When she arrived around 4 pm Saturday, he was waiting nervously for her. In fact, Koh was perched on a metal chair facing the front door, reading fitfully from a newspaper while throwing glances at the open door. He had almost convinced himself that she wasn’t going to come after all. Fool, why would such a lovely young woman want to do something as perverse as this anyway? With someone like you?

When the bell rang, he couldn’t see her through the grill: evidently, she was standing off to the side. Koh quickly threw his paper down, hauled himself up, went to let her in. When he opened the grill, she peeked from around the corner. “Mr Koh, is it?”

“Yes, yes,” Koh replied. “Koh Kwan How. Just Kwan, if you like. Kwan is fine.”

She nodded and stepped in. She seemed strangely shy at this point, considering how they had met and what she was there for. She was even looking down, demure in a way he would never have expected from this new, anything-goes generation. When she glanced up, this girl looked even more like Su Lon than she had on the monitor. He was staring at her, transfixed, until finally she peered at him nervously. “What?”

“Incredible,” Koh said in a raspy voice. “Oh, sorry, it’s just … You look very much like someone I … I knew. A long, long time ago.”

“Do I? Oh yeah, thanks. You look like a lot of people I know too, uncle.” Koh winced at her calling him uncle, but not enough for her to notice.

He offered her a drink, then found her a can of the Yeo’s chrysanthemum tea she had asked for. After taking a long draught, she frowned and looked around the room, as if assessing his taste in furnishings or sense of feng shui.

For a moment, he was even afraid that she was about to tell him that she had reconsidered and now just wanted to call the whole thing off. But instead, she said something that stunned him. “You want to, like, take our clothes off, uncle, see what we’re talking about?”

“Yes, yes, that might be … That’s a good way to start, I’m sure.” He was still a little stunned by her directness when she started to pull off her shirt, then removed her pants. As she stood there in only bra and panties, he mechanically put his hands to his shirt and began fumbling with the buttons, still staring at her, enthralled.

Curiously, she removed her panties first, then thrust her hips forward slightly, as if displaying some unusual wares to a prospective buyer. He was still fumbling with that same top button as she reached back, unhooked her bra and let it drop to the floor. Koh’s fingers froze on the button. Dear God, even her body looks like Su Lon’s. Or at least the way he remembered it. The compact, tight breasts, the neat, dark triangle of pubic hair with the delicate slit in the middle — everything, so close to how he remembered it. He reacted immediately. It was … he didn’t want to think how many years since he was able to even get this hard without considerable manual or oral stimulation.

“You … you have a fantastic body,” he gasped.

“My tits are too small,” she replied, looking down as if to test his evaluation. “My friends keep telling me I should go and get them enlarged. It doesn’t cost that much at this one place I heard about.”

“Oh no. Oh no, no, don’t … don’t do that. They’re incredible. They fit your body perfectly. You couldn’t ask for a better pair of breasts than what you’ve got there.”

“Well, they’ll do for now, I guess,” she concluded, giving a soft shrug.

He had just managed to get the first button undone at that point and was trying to concentrate intensely on the rest of the task when she stepped forward. “Here, let me help you with that,” she said.

Again, he was taken aback as she reached those delicate hands — so like Su Lon’s — out to touch him. His fingers were frozen again, and she had to move his hands away gently, then she slowly undid every button. He stared at her now deeply intent face, not wanting to peer at his own body. He was deeply ashamed of it, even repulsed at its wattles of loose flesh, its liver flecks splashed sporadically all over his torso and arms, its wrinkles even in what he once thought unlikely places.

After removing the shirt, she reached down and unbuckled his belt, opened the trousers and eased them down over his hips. When they sagged around his knees, he reached down and hastily pulled them off himself.

Again, he was embarrassed: the elaborate webbing of varicose veins made his legs an unpleasant sight, especially to himself.

But again, she was being generous, or just polite. She ignored the varicose legs and began staring directly at the sharp rise in his shorts. She looked at him, smiled, nudged the near-erection slightly up and forwards, then pulled down the briefs.

“Oh look, you’re almost ready for action, isn’t it?”

“I didn’t intend to make your trip over here wasted, la. Bedroom’s over this way.”

He pointed to the room at the end of a hallway, and guided her towards it. Along the way, he grabbed a towel off a nearby chair and drooped it in front of his crotch. He felt giddy with this wholly new experience, but still couldn’t help feeling funny walking around naked in his own flat, especially with a young woman present.

As they headed towards the bedroom, Koh suddenly stopped near the bulky Peranakan table standing guard in the middle of the room and pointed to a small leather bag perched near the edge. “Those are for you by the way.

Don’t forget to take them when you leave.”

“What is it?

“It’s … I know we said no money, no payment, but it’s presents. Some presents I got for you. Just thought it will be nice, lah. The money won’t do me any more good anyway, will it?”

Before he could say anything else, she’d darted over to the table and started fumbling through the bag. “Hey, those are surprises, lah. For later.

Afterwards.”

“Can’t I open one, just one? That’s all.”

Even her little-girl manner when she asked reminded him of Su Lon.

He smiled back at her. “Alright, just one.” He raised an admonishing finger.

“But no more!”

She smiled and chose something in a long, narrow box. “Ooo, what’s this one? Something we might be able to use in there? Looks like it.” He chortled. “No, it’s just for you. It’s all things I thought you might like.”

She slid the top off the thin box, reached in and pulled out a slender gold necklace. “Oh, that’s beautiful,” she whispered. “It’s … wow, just so sweet of you.” Koh smiled sheepishly. She stepped over and gave him a warm kiss, one that actually tasted of mild affection. He was embarrassed — and very pleased. She then broke into a wide smile. “Can I put it on now? Right now?”

“Now?? But I thought we’re going to — ”

“Oh, please, Mr Koh! I want to have something like this to wear. I’m always a little shy when I’m totally naked with some guy for the first time.” She then cast a quick, playful glance down at his towel.

This made him laugh again, after which he nodded and watched as she placed the necklace against her smooth throat. She then turned, holding the ends behind and just off her neck, inviting him to latch it. Which he did, with care and some affection. She rushed over to the smeared mirror a few feet away and observed herself, making funny faces, as if she were suddenly the only person in the room. Koh himself admired her naked back, the nicely framed shoulders. “This is just so nice. So sweet.” She turned with a deeply set smile, and Kwan How suddenly felt as close to her as he had to any woman, any person, in a long time. It was good that it should all end like this.

This was becoming more and more perfect.

When they reached the bedroom, she jumped onto the bed as if she needed to try it out first. She pounded it with her fists, then started kicking her legs up and down. Koh was standing just inside the doorway, the towel still dangling over his private parts. “Suitable?” he asked, his eyes slowly surveying the arch of her back, the slopes of her buttocks, her nicely formed legs and feet.

“Very suitable,” she replied.

She then rolled over on her back, propped her head up on the three pillows and spread her legs. “Going to join me, Mr Koh? It’s nice down here.

Very nice.” As she said those last two words, she started stroking herself, at the same time slipping her tongue out and gliding it slowly over her lips.

Koh laughed again; she looked so much like Su Lon, but was so different in her behaviour. She was — what was that word he liked? — frisky. Yes , so frisky. Su Lon had been so wonderfully shy, right up until the moment he first entered her. Of course, that was expected of girls, especially Chinese girls, in those days.

But part of Su Lon’s reluctance with Kwan How stemmed from the fact that she was engaged to another man at the time. Oh, there was nothing like love there — on either side apparently — but it was a good match in most other ways. The war and the Japanese occupation had stranded that fiance in Ceylon. Meanwhile, Kwan How’s position at the docks enabled him to get his hands on extra goods: contraband rice, salted fish and cooking oil — some of which he gave to Su Lon’s family. That’s how they started to get close.

And then there was that keen natural attraction that happens between two young, good-looking people.

Had there been no war, Su Lon would have surely remained a traditional Chinese woman, going to her wedding bed a virgin, with a man she barely knew and had no great affection for. That was the deal back then: sex as duty, marriage as transaction, love as a possible bonus — but only later.

Except that she and Kwan How found themselves more and more drawn to each other. Besides, Su Lon didn’t know if she would ever see this fiance again; it was all up to fate whether any of them would survive that war and the occupation. Which is why she and Kwan How became lovers, their daily flirts with arrest and death only intensifying the passion and tonic release of their couplings. Yes, being so close to death, Kwan How had lived more intensely than he would ever again in his life.

Everything could have been different, should have been different. But the war ended, Su Lon’s betrothed returned, they married, and Kwan How saw or heard very little of her for the next year and a half. Until he got that note from her brother. Sweet, delicate Su Lon, who had survived the storm of perils thrown up by the Japanese occupation, stepped in front of a Bentley driven by some blur Dutch woman. She was dead by the time they got her to a hospital. Publicly, everyone said it was an accident, but under the soothing drone of officialese, there was a swarm of dark rumours.

“Is everything alright?” Sharlayne called from the bed.

Koh looked up at her and nodded. Yes, everything was alright; maybe that was the perfect exit Su Lon had chosen for herself. “She heard another music,” was the cryptic way a friend once described the way she died. And now Koh was there, at the edge of grasping an amazing dream for his own departure. Perhaps this was what she’d meant by another music?

Sharlayne was now stroking herself more energetically, three fingers working deeply into the gash, moving about in slow, circular turns. “Everything is wonderful,” Koh finally said, “more wonderful than I could have imagined it.”

“Well, why don’t you come over here, uncle, and we’ll see how we can make it even better.” Koh nodded in agreement and strode over, dropping the towel only as he made his way onto the bed.

He had become soft by now and only when he put his legs and side against her flesh did he again feel the stirrings in his loins and in his chest which had been so strong just minutes before. He wanted to get hard as quickly as he could, to couple with this young woman. Wanted to return, however briefly, to feeling life intensely. His look obviously conveyed this, as Sharlayne asked if he wanted some help. Suddenly feeling humiliated, Koh simply nodded. “Yeah?” she said sympathetically. Koh then leaned over and whispered in her ear.

But she said she didn’t want to go down on him, claiming she “wasn’t into” oral sex. He didn’t believe her, of course. But she was solicitous: to get him harder, she began stroking his cock, then licked her fingers lavishly, moistening his member as she stroked it a second time. She then stuck two fingers up her vagina, pulled them out and rubbed the warm juice along the high bend of his cock.

Koh could not even remember the last time he had been this hard, decades certainly. He wanted desperately to get inside her and rasp this out.

But at that moment, there was an abrupt change in her demeanour: she rose and knelt on the bed. For the first time since they had started undressing, she looked grim. “Are you sure this can really kill you?” she asked, “Really?”

“That’s what my doctor keeps saying.” She nodded, but did not look very convinced.

“You ever asked for a second opinion?”

He smiled sheepishly. “I’m about to get one.” She frowned again, concern darkening her delicate features. She cast her eyes down and started tracing some arcane pattern in the sheets with one finger. “Look, it’s what I really want, okay?” he assured her. “I have no doubts about this.” She glanced up at him, cautiously, from the corner of her eye. He was afraid he might lose this right here, so close to what he wanted. “Are you going to deny a nice old man his last request?”

“No,” she answered after a short pause. “It’s something I really want to try myself.” She then leaned over, gave him a light kiss on the forehead, and pressing her head against his neck, hugged him awkwardly. This was good enough; at this stage in his life, the “uncle” had sharply pared down what he expected from perfect.

Koh now smiled, a little sadly, at her. Sharlayne took this as a cue, lay back flat on the bed and stared straight up, as if studying something on the ceiling. Koh kept smiling; it didn’t matter, not now. She spread her legs, her thin legs, and Koh thought he would begin by putting his legs tightly against hers and then massaging the insides of her thighs — as he had done that first time with Su Lon.

But as he tried to splay his legs that far, he found that his weak knees weren’t up to the task. He fell forward, giving out a yelp of pain.

Sharlayne, who had continued peering up at the ceiling until then, swung around swiftly, asked if Koh was alright, and rubbed his shoulders in consolation. He tried to shake it off as lightly as he could. “Guess one shouldn’t try new tricks, wah,” he said with a feeble laugh. The embarrassment actually hurt more than the physical pain. She asked if he wanted her to get on top, but he mumbled that he preferred being on top of her. She nodded, then lay back on the bed, her hair draped capriciously across the pillows.

Still smarting a little from his fall, Koh now crawled up to Sharlayne gingerly. When he was positioned just right, he breathed deeply, then carefully arched his groin above hers. Sharlayne reached up, took his cock and slowly started to pull him into her. Oh wei! She felt fantastic, not like some human masturbation device — like those Geylang whores — but like a woman, just the way Su Lon once was with him. He slowly started thrusting his cock into her, getting the feel of her vagina.

He then began pumping harder, harder, first just with his butt and hips, then with his upper body as well. He was giving her everything he could, trying to fuck her in a way that she would always remember, fucking as if there were no tomorrow.

Because that was the whole point, wasn’t it? There shouldn’t be any tomorrow for Koh Kwan How. This was his perfect exit, this act of lovemaking as fantastic as his very first one with Su Lon, with a girl who looked so much like Su Lon did back then.

As he began thrusting himself fearsomely into her, Sharlayne herself seemed to become more and more excited. Her eyes were shut tight, which should have disturbed Koh, but it didn’t. If that made her feel better with him, even if she was thinking about some boyfriend or pop star, then it was the right thing. He started fucking even more furiously, giving everything he could draw up. His body’s frantic stabs seemed to be moving a beat or two ahead of his breaths and he was starting to get giddy. Was this it then, was this how it would all end? He tried speeding up even more, pushing himself harder, more urgently.

It was then that Sharlayne finally opened her eyes, focused point blank into his so all she could see were his eyes seeing hers and, clutching him desperately by the lower lean of his back, she moaned, “Oh God, fuck me, fuck me hard, fuck me this way forever! ” As he responded to her, his words came out in erratic gasps, pulled out from what reserve wind he wasn’t using for the fucking. “Yes … yes, I’ll … as … hard … as … you … need. As … hard … as. …” He was unable to force out any more words.

Without opening her eyes, she moaned, “Yes, do it, do it — deeper, more deeper. Oh please — all the way.”

Koh plunged as deep as he could into her, pumping with everything he had left in him. His eyes, too, were closed tightly now, yet he saw her face as clearly as he had just a few moments before. “Oh yes, dee … deeper. Here you are, finally — my angel. My lovely, lovely angel of death.” And just as he said it, he burst, his cock pulsating in a sad stutter of throbs. His semen came out in short, painful jerks. He started giving short cries as he came; he realised he must sound like a wounded seal thrown onto a beach. He was fighting to snatch random breaths, his lungs and throat felt seared, his nostrils stung, every part of his body was starting to rebel as pain coursed through him from neck to ankles.

All of which, he realised, meant that he was still alive. His perfect plan had failed.

He felt the need to explain, to apologise, to share one more thing more with this lovely young woman. “I didn’t think I’d … still be able to … ” He stopped, and realised he was crying. After several moments, he forced himself to shut off the tears, then he turned back to explain.

As he did, he realised that she had said nothing since his climax; in fact, she had barely budged. As he finally looked at her, it was as if a huge slap was there just waiting for him to turn around: Sharlayne seemed to be unconscious, eyes closed. Not only that, her breathing was extremely shallow, like that of some people he had seen just before they left.

With all the fretted strength he could muster, he pulled himself up and tried shaking her. At this, her eyes opened slightly and one hand moved weakly to the necklace. She raised it slightly, said, “Thank you again. Very generous,” before her eyelids slid closed once more. This time, she seemed to be hardly breathing at all.

Koh struggled from the bed and made his way to the table where the phone rested. Hands shaking so badly he was barely up to the task, he punched out the number of his one close nephew, Daniel. He had arranged for Daniel to drop by at six, to “pick something up.” Of course, he was supposed to find Koh dead. But that was well over an hour away. Koh needed him there now.

He cursed when the droning buzzes ended with the recorded voice saying, “Sorry, the M1 customer you just called is not responding. Please try again later.” The old man slammed his phone back into its cradle. Stupid, so stupid! Why even have a handphone if you’re not going to leave it on, make yourself available when people need you in an emergency like this?

So, Koh reluctantly called emergency services. And after hanging up, he settled himself into the creaking chair next to the table and stared over at her, his quivering hands set flat on his thighs. Oh my God, this is how I sit at a wake. But that’s not the situation here; she’s young, she’ll be fine, this is most likely just … just what?

Yes, just what was this anyway? For that matter, why had this lovely young woman agreed to come over and have sex with some pathetic old man who had some crazy plan to end his own life? He was well acquainted with his own plan, how beautiful it was, but he suddenly wondered what her reason was for participating. As the heavy moments dragged past, these questions grew more and more vexing for Kwan How.

He pulled himself up, staggered over and stood at the foot of the bed.

Her mouth now hung open; she didn’t seem to be breathing at all. Koh wanted to put his hand to the mouth to test her for breaths, maybe try to feel a pulse.

But at the moment he was terrified to come any closer. He stared, fixed in a state just short of shock. How did this girl end up like this in my bed? Just lying there, maybe dead, she looked — he hated to even visit this thought — but she looked … yes, perfect.

He picked up a blanket from the edge of the bed and spread it over her, to protect her decency for when the medical-emergency team arrived. And he still could not keep from staring at her. She had this amazing look etched into her face. As if she had just achieved something beautiful. And now he imagined that that mouth was open so that she could sing some sublime, silent song. Yes, there was now something irredeemably perfect about this moment. Although it was mainly hers, he had a share of it.

Koh dropped the towel wrapped around his own midriff and climbed onto the bed. He lifted the blanket and started to slide under it. But no, although he ached to touch her naked body again with his, he realised he couldn’t.

He wrapped the blanket tightly all around her, pulled up closer and folded his arm around her. She still felt so warm, looked so lovely here. He rested his head firmly against hers, listening as hard as he could.

At first, he just wanted to hear some breathing, but when he couldn’t detect any, he strained his ears to listen to that silent song he imagined her singing. This was surely the anthem of the perfect exit. When he, too, could hear it, he would know how to reach that point, as she did. He waited.