Shanghai at night (reprinted)

Starting today, I'll gradually share some of the novels I've treasured over the years. Sometimes, a truly captivating novel can be far more thrilling than any Japanese adult film. Anyone who's read martial arts novels knows that television and movies can never capture the essence and spirit of a novel. This is because we read and imagine simultaneously—the highest level of association, each person having their own interpretation of what constitutes the highest level. The same applies to reading ****.
So, compared to watching my beloved being violated, I much prefer to hide somewhere and listen to the sounds—all the sounds my girlfriend makes while being violated, like the rhythmic creaking of the bed, the occasional jingling of her bracelet, the faint panting of two people, the sounds of clothes being undressed, the subtle whispers and flirtations. Listening and daydreaming—for me, that's the highest level of experience. I don't know what the high feels like after taking drugs, but I imagine it's nothing more than this!
There are three types of writers who create these novels:
First, those lacking literary talent and skill, but whose stories clearly reflect genuine personal experience. Without such experience, one cannot write about the emotional journey of that time. Therefore, I prefer this type of writing in the cuckoldry genre. While lacking in technique and writing experience, its value lies in its authenticity; only authenticity can draw the reader in.
Second, those with no writing skill or talent, and no real experience, produce purely fantasy-based works. These are generally exaggerated, pale, artificial, and explicit. The dialogue is often borrowed from pornography, making them seem fake. These are clearly just novels; readers can't connect with them or feel any resonance. However, their spirit is still commendable, as they write without seeking fame or fortune, simply for the sake of mutual exchange. Third, there are writers with
genuine professional skills who write anonymously for fun. Judging from their writing style, they seem to be full-time writers, taking it as a hobby. There are many examples, such as the Bai Jie series, "How Can a Golden Carp Be a Fish in a Pond?", etc., which I will gradually share with you later.
The article I'm reposting below is one of them. This article was quite famous many years ago, and many readers speculated that it was a hobby piece by a writer. The narrative flows smoothly, without dragging or unnecessary words, vividly depicting the helplessness of a couple struggling at the bottom of Shanghai's society, their psychology slowly distorted by money. *Shanghai

at Night* (reposted)
Zhuang
Jianhai shifted his position in the front seat of his van, lazily looking up at the sky above the street. The night
sky of Shanghai was a grayish-white, constantly flashing with vibrant colors under the neon lights along the street.
The most dazzling sight in the distance was naturally the Oriental Pearl Tower, pointing straight into the night sky. Its illuminated outline
could be seen from almost anywhere in Shanghai, a landmark that Shanghainese were most proud of.
To his left, the three purplish-red characters "Hai Shi Hao" on the magnificent entrance were surrounded by a string of rapidly flashing colored lights
, particularly striking against the night sky. The elegant melody of a slow waltz drifted out, filling the street with
a romantic atmosphere. This was a medium-sized nightclub, the kind
of dance hall with many hostesses that were now common in Shanghai.
Zhuang Jianhai's wife, Zhao Lan, was working as a hostess there. He had just watched her graceful figure disappear into the twilight
.
It was just getting dark, and there weren't many customers yet. He wondered if she was waiting to be chosen by customers at the stage,
or if she was already being swayed to the slow waltz in the dance hall with a customer, or... most likely she was still sitting
on the bench at the stage. After all, she wasn't very young anymore, and in terms of figure and looks, she couldn't compare to the "migrant workers" from out of town.
Zhuang Jianhai stopped thinking about it. There was no good in thinking like that, something he had known for a long time, but he still
couldn't help but imagine his wife entertaining customers inside, especially in the last two weeks, his thoughts had unconsciously
drifted in that direction.
Zhao Lan had been working as a hostess at "Hai Shi Hao" for over two years, and Zhuang Jianhai had long since overcome the
initial pangs of jealousy at the thought of his wife selling her smiles in another man's arms. "Cuckoldry complex," was the term he coined, a feeling only
newcomers to the profession experienced. He was proud of his ability to quickly and easily handle the situation. It was a kind of maturity,
a state of being.
He could calmly accept that his wife sold smiles but not her body, chatting, drinking, and dancing with customers. But how could he truly
face the final step she was about to take—prostitution?
He himself couldn't quite describe how he would feel. Since they had already decided to take this step, perhaps
tonight Zhao Lan might… He really didn't want to think about it anymore. They had no choice—that's what Zhao Lan said, and
that's what he truly felt.
Shanghai was a place where "poverty is laughed at, but prostitution is not." This kind of thing was becoming increasingly commonplace. In fact, it wasn't just Shanghai;
which place in the country wasn't like this?
Of the dozen or so people he knew who drove vans, nearly half had wives working as hostesses in nightclubs. The women who don't do it
are either too old or too ugly; you could say they've done almost everything they could. What's shameful about it? Isn't that how it is?
The truly wealthy don't drive these kinds of cars. Aren't they just in it for the money? Who cares about face?
However, he only knew two women who actually sold their bodies. After all, there's a huge difference between spending the night with a customer and dancing with them.
According to them, being a prostitute in a dance hall only allows others to take advantage of you physically, but if you sell yourself completely, all the advantages are taken
. Can you even recoup those advantages?
He used to be very open-minded about prostitution. His wife didn't lose anything when she was being embraced while dancing. Before
he won her over, hadn't she been embraced by many men in the school dance hall? He had often advised
Xiao Wu, who had also been laid off, about this. Xiao Wu always sighed and complained about his own uselessness, saying he could only let his wife do prostitution.
"How can you not understand? It's just about making money, right? What's so hard to understand? You're taking
advantage of your wife's money, and you're taking advantage of the cash in her wallet. What's the point of you making money? Look at Duan Husheng, his wife
gets customers to ride in his car, earning double the money. That's shrewdness."
That's how you have to think in this line of work. So be it, like Ah Q. Where else can you make money these days? They're
all desperately short of cash. Their layoff allowances are meager, barely enough to get by. But the factory is implementing housing reforms, and now
they have to buy their new homes from the factory, even if it's only a discounted price of 40,000 yuan. For them, that's a huge amount.
It was a huge expense. Last year, to get their son into the best experimental junior high school, they had to pay 30,000 yuan,
which exhausted all their hard-earned savings and incurred significant debt.
Thinking of his son, a surge of pride welled up within him. His son hadn't disappointed him; his grades had
soared, and he was sure to be in the top class next semester: the top class of a top middle school—how could he not be proud?
Of course, getting into the top class required another 8,000 yuan. In today's society, money is everywhere, and schools are no exception.
However, both he and his wife were laid off, and 8,000 yuan was an enormous sum. Adding to their existing debt, he
also wanted save money to buy a Santana taxi. This minivan was rented, and paying nearly half their daily income in rent
was a huge loss. Moreover, the policies were inconsistent; who knew when these minivans would be completely banned
? Driving it this way wasn't entirely legal either. But this money… alas…
just as Zhao Lan said, they had no choice. Although their quality of life had improved considerably in recent years, with no worries about food or
clothing, how could they truly live a good life without money? Besides, they weren't young anymore; how many more years could they work
day and night ?
Just then, another group of men entered, all dressed in suits and looking respectable, but in reality, none of them were good people. Zhuang
cursed them silently to try and find some peace of mind. But despite his cursing, Zhuang Jianhai still hoped the dance hall would
thrive, and he also hoped Zhao Lan would be chosen by a man. The feeling of sitting on the sidelines waiting was definitely unpleasant; without
tips, they wouldn't earn much money.
Would any of them choose Zhao Lan? He glanced at the group a few more times, then immediately
turned away guiltily, looking towards the Oriental Pearl Tower in the distance. The brightly lit tower pointed straight into the night sky, its
silhouette reflecting the beautiful night view of Pudong, creating a vibrant Shanghai cityscape.
This was the Shanghai he was so proud of. He felt incredibly proud and honored when he thought about the tremendous achievements of Pudong's rapid development in recent years
. If it weren't for Shanghai's rapid development in recent years, their business wouldn't have reached where it is today.
He sighed, started the car, and slowly drove towards Huaihai Road.
Zhao Lan in "Hai Shi Hao" was not chosen by the group of newly arrived men. She was silent and filled with endless
melancholy. The sisters sitting on the chairs were actually competing with each other, using their most charming
and seductive eyes to tease the guests whenever they came in. Being chosen first was like
an .
mpanel(1);
Several chosen ladies, arm in arm with their respective guests, leaned on them coquettishly and entered the inner dance hall,
leaving behind a chorus of laughter echoing in the room.
Zhao Lan's looks were no longer comparable to those of the young migrant girls and the college students in their third and fourth years, and the groups of
guests did not like to choose her. These groups of guests are often the most generous, as they are usually
entertained and likely pay with company funds, tipping without batting an eye.
Just then, a single guest entered. Zhao Lan perked up, smiling gently, displaying an extremely dignified, ladylike
, and considerate demeanor.
Unlike other young women who either dress extravagantly, heavily made-up, and use a flirtatious and seductive
image to attract customers, or who deliberately wear light makeup and appear innocent and pure like young schoolgirls,
Zhao Lan takes a different approach. She neither deliberately flirts nor feigns innocence,
but chooses the image of a proper, mature woman. This is a choice born of necessity; she simply doesn't have much of the capital of youth
.
However, she is quite successful, having a number of regular clients at "Hai Shi Hao." Many middle-aged men
specifically choose considerate and warm mature women like her. In their words, they can't stand
the vulgarity of those "sluts" and dislike pretentious, affected innocence.
After several groups of customers passed by, a middle-aged man arrived. He seemed decent enough.
After scanning the faces and bodies of the women on the benches, he finally pointed to Zhao Lan.
A surge of secret delight washed over her. Zhao Lan greeted the guest with a smile, expertly taking his arm and
leading him into the dance hall as if welcoming a familiar face. She smiled gently, carefully pressing her breasts against his arm,
softly greeting and flattering him as they walked.
They sat side-by-side on a double sofa in a corner of the dance hall. Zhao Lan greeted him in a soft tone, beginning to flirt with
him, and proactively pulled his hand to her shoulder so he could put his arm around her neck.
The middle-aged man, with his arm around her, immediately and unceremoniously pinched her breasts a few times through her clothes.
She sighed inwardly, lamenting that she'd encountered another seasoned prostitute, while simultaneously smiling seductively and turning to him in agreement. Business was
getting increasingly tough; the men were all incredibly shrewd, making it impossible to prevent them from taking advantage.
Alas, her poor husband didn't realize that these days, escorts weren't simply about chatting
, drinking, and dancing with customers. Because the number of escorts had increased, customers were becoming increasingly brazen,
touching them anywhere now. Supply exceeded demand, creating a buyer's market, and the sex industry was no exception. Even if you
didn't want many others were eager to be with you.
The dance hall was filled with couples, almost without exception, the men flirting and
teasing their women, while the women forced smiles and fawned over them. Winning a man's favor was the only
way to earn tips here; the aloofness of the past was no longer effective. She hadn't encountered such
reserved customers who simply sat and chatted for a long time.
The man beside Zhao Lan had one arm around her neck, the other groping her thigh beneath her skirt. She used her hands
to protect her upper thighs, trying to delay the man's advances, while constantly urging him to drink,
hoping to get him drunk so it would be easier to handle him.
The man wasn't very interested in Zhao Lan's flirting; he was more interested in groping and pinching her body.
This kind of man is the most difficult to deal with.
The music started, and they moved to the center of the dance hall to dance.
Actually, it wasn't really dancing; it was more like standing there, the woman with her arms around the man's neck, being held by him.
Swaying casually. The woman's hands, no longer able to resist the man's advances, made her body
an object of his wanton play. This kind of dance became the best way for men to take advantage of women.
The man Zhao Lan was holding began to caress her body forcefully, as if trying to feel through her skirt to her skin
. His lips, reeking of smoke and alcohol, chased hers, his body pressed tightly against her chest. She deliberately giggled and
shook her head to avoid his mouth, teasing his desire with a mix of coquettishness and reproach, occasionally letting him have his way, allowing his
lips to have some of his.
This was a technique she had developed over a long period. She couldn't let the man kiss her all at once, but rather let him have his
way little by little; this maximized the man's desire for her and kept
him interested for a long time.
Her ear was tickled by the man's heavy breathing, and her earring was being teased by his tongue. She chuckled
and turned her head, her cheek brushing against his tongue, leaving a wet trail of disgusting saliva on her carefully made-up face.
She buried her face in his chest. This was the most effective way to avoid the harassment of a man's mouth without too much angering the customer
.
The man's hands moved to her chest, slipping inside her sundress and kneading her nipples with his fingers in a circular motion over her bra
. Although his actions were relatively gentle and considerate, her body still reacted strongly. This was her
most sensitive area.
She endured his advances, thinking of her husband driving the van, who insisted that she not
do anything inappropriate with customers—that she should only sell smiles, not prostitution.
But what exactly constitutes inappropriateness? Does having a man put his hand under her clothes to touch her breasts count? What about touching her genitals? What about
inserting his fingers? Doesn't that cross the line? If we look at undressing, customers sometimes pull her
panties down from under her skirt. Does that count as inappropriateness? If we use ejaculation as the dividing line, then
is it still considered outrageous for her to help a customer masturbate to ejaculation with her hand? These are already the basic rules of escort services, completely beyond her control.
The last line she could stick to in the dance hall was not allowing customers to penetrate her. Any other touching
was fine. Once, a customer even rubbed his penis against her labia, pushing it inwards while she masturbated him
. Although he didn't ultimately penetrate her, how different was that from intercourse?
She never let her husband know about this. She didn't know how he would react if he knew the reality of their escort services
.
Zhao Lan had tentatively told Zhuang Jianhai that for escorts in their thirties, if they still insisted on
just being "pure companions" in the dance hall, it would be very difficult to continue. Customers were paying less and less for sitting at the table, and they were all demanding something real.
She cited several of her sisters who had started accompanying customers in private rooms as full-time companions to earn more money, or simply going
out with customers.
His reaction wasn't particularly negative. He insisted she maintain her dignity and purity. He said,
"You know, I don't care about that kind of thing, so what? But I'm really
worried about you doing it with different clients. How do I know if they've contracted any diseases?"
She was speechless. She believed that safety wasn't his biggest concern; his objection stemmed from his
"concern" about that matter. Neither of them wanted to delve into this, keeping it unspoken. She was actually
grateful for his attitude.
However, last night they had another long talk. To her surprise, he agreed that she could accompany
clients, which meant she could engage in prostitution, as long as the clients paid
reasonably .
This was blatant prostitution. This completely changed the nature of her escort services. Although she wanted to earn
that money, she had never actually done it with a client before, and the thought made her very nervous. The thought of those
big and small hard objects penetrating her... it wouldn't be the same as doing it with her husband, would it?
The man holding her pressed her against his body, his hands caressing her buttocks,
slowly kneading them through her skirt and panties. She could feel his penis already erect, pressing against her genitals through her clothes.
Would this man ask her to do *that*? Judging by his interest in her body, perhaps he would.
This thought sent a chill down Zhao Lan's spine.
Zhuang Jianhai drove slowly, watching every couple on the street, searching for potential clients.
His van wasn't a regular taxi, not just a simple
means of transport. The back of his van was a uniquely modified bed; his real business
was arranging prostitutes and their clients to have sex in the back.
Many clients simply needed a secluded place to meet a prostitute; renting a hotel room by the hour
was cheaper than a private room in a nightclub. But even cheaper was renting this van, which could be paid by the hour, or
they could have sex while driving, stopping and paying by mileage when things were going well. Moreover, the car could be driven to wherever the customer wanted
, and the time spent on the road could be used to have sex with women—economical and affordable. Some customers would ask him to stop in secluded spots,
have sex, and then leave. But many more customers found making love in the swaying car very romantic.
This idea wasn't his first, but he was one of the quickest to join this business. In Shanghai,
you can't be naive.
At a street corner not far away, Zhuang Jianhai received a fare. A young man who looked like a college student picked up a seductive
prostitute and got into his car.
He felt relieved. At least he wouldn't have wasted gas tonight. As the number of people driving these vans increased,
his business became less and less successful, often leaving his van empty all night.
He turned on the rearview mirror, to show the customer that he wouldn't peek. Actually, there was still a
corner in his rearview mirror that reflected everything behind him; he only needed to look up slightly to see the glimpse of what was happening behind him.
Men are always very curious, especially about such sights. However, Zhuang Jianhai didn't
peek . After all, seeing it so many times gets boring; it's almost always the same thing. In his words, it's just
two mounds of flesh swaying back and forth on the bus, right?
This young man seemed inexperienced; as soon as he got on the bus, he eagerly pulled off the woman's skirt, grabbed her, and started groping her.
After undressing her, he quickly pulled down her panties and started moaning and groaning as he had sex with her.
Zhuang Jianhai knew how to glance at the rearview mirror every time the car passed a streetlight. But today
he wasn't very interested, only glancing at it once or twice. The two naked bodies intertwined behind him,
writhing under the neon lights, were old news to him, nothing new.
He drove at the slowest speed to save fuel, idly casting his gaze at the night view of the riverbank in the distance.
He was now driving leisurely south along the Bund, the night view of the opposite bank of the Huangpu River flashing between obstacles.
Would Zhao Lan be done like this tonight? His thoughts drifted back to his wife, the image of Zhao Lan's snow-white
body being embraced by a strange man flashing in his mind. The thought made his heart very uneasy. He
had felt the same way when Zhao Lan first started working as a prostitute. But he quickly overcame that feeling. He believed it would be the same this time.
It's just about penetration, isn't it? Zhao Lan's body had already been thoroughly groped in the dance hall, hadn't it?
He knew he shouldn't think that way. But two weeks ago, he had his first opportunity to pick up a prostitute and was surprised to realize
how outdated his understanding of escort services had been.
Despite soliciting customers outside various nightclubs, this honest man had never actually entered a dance hall to hire a prostitute. He
had no idea what level of service the escorts provided, nor what the private rooms in dance halls were like
; he thought they were just places for karaoke.
He laughed at his own naiveté.
Two weeks earlier, an old classmate from New York had come to visit him in Shanghai, and to show
his hospitality, he took him to a dance hall. His
classmate, Lao Wang, from New York, was still unmarried, and Zhuang Jianhai couldn't help but feel a surge of superiority.
He himself hadn't been cut out for the TOEFL or GRE, missing the wave of studying abroad. But Lao Wang,
after all these years abroad, hadn't amounted to much. In Zhuang's eyes, he was utterly unsophisticated. If you didn't know his
background, anyone would think he'd just come from some small county.
Shanghainese people have the utmost contempt for being unsophisticated.
That day, Zhuang Jianhai specially took a day off work and didn't drive, taking Lao Wang to stroll along Nanjing Road and the Bund in Shanghai. Lao Wang hadn't been back to Shanghai for over ten
years, and this time he was truly amazed. The newly built skyscrapers, the elevated highways, pedestrian bridges,
river-crossing bridges, and underwater tunnels all dazzled Lao Wang. He kept marveling at how much Shanghai had changed.
Zhuang Jianhai was very proud of this. Indeed, Shanghai's development in recent years had astonished the world.
Shanghai at night was even more eye-opening for Lao Wang. This dazzling world of Shanghai was arguably no less impressive than world-class
cities . This was something Lao Wang wholeheartedly admitted.
He treated Lao Wang to various snacks at the City God Temple. This was the most economical way; even slightly decent restaurants were
ridiculously expensive.
Sure enough, Lao Wang praised the numerous foods on the snack street. I'd heard that foreigners' food was terrible,
nothing compared to Chinese culinary culture. The food here was not only plentiful but also incredibly cheap, all
run by laid-off workers, yet it kept someone like Lao Wang, a New Yorker, coming back for more.
This made Zhuang Jianhai very happy. Getting things done for less money was the most shrewd thing about Shanghainese.
After dinner, Zhuang planned to show Lao Wang around Shanghai's nightclubs.
He knew what Lao Wang was thinking from the look in his eyes whenever he passed by the flashing neon lights and saw the signs for beautiful women. Reading people
was his livelihood. He understood Lao Wang well. After all, he was quite old and had never been with a woman.
In America, where AIDS was rampant, he figured an honest, simple man like him wouldn't dare to go looking for prostitutes.
Lao Wang told Zhuang Jianhai that there were no escorts in New York. This surprised Zhuang Jianhai immensely. No wonder someone from New York
was so unsophisticated. He was truly glad he hadn't blindly joined the trend of going abroad back then.
Then he should definitely show Lao Wang the sights of Shanghai's nightclubs, even if it's expensive, just to broaden his horizons.
Besides, isn't Shanghai's most distinctive and impressive nightlife its countless dance
halls, big and small, scattered throughout the city?
He took Lao Wang to a dance hall called "Xin De Lai." He'd never been before, of course, but based on his frequent passing
by, he figured it was about the same level as "Hai Shi Hao." He told Lao Wang that the girls there were
very skilled, and the way he said it made even him a little uneasy, as if he were a regular at Shanghai's dance halls.
However, any dance hall in Shanghai was a novelty for Lao Wang, something he'd only encountered in New York
.
For some reason, he always felt a sense of superiority when he was with Lao Wang. He increasingly felt that Shanghai was a truly
captivating world-class metropolis, and he felt incredibly proud to be from Shanghai.
Zhao Lan had already danced several songs with this customer; it seemed this man would be spending the entire night with her. The man
claimed to be some kind of section chief, not a high-ranking official but with some power. He seemed quite satisfied with her tonight, so it looked like
she'd have a good time. Maybe he'd even pay the bill with public funds? Who knew?
Being booked by this man made her feel a little proud.
Her looks weren't exactly top-tier here; the young, out-of-town girls were all stunning, making her very jealous.
But she had her own allure, the kind of allure only a mature woman possesses. And she was experienced. She knew how to please her customers
.
Shanghai women's coquettishness was famous throughout the country. This was very evident in "Hai Shi Hao." These
local Shanghai escorts couldn't compare to the out-of-town "country girls" in terms of looks, but they always managed to get many repeat
customers' affections, which was inseparable from their quality.
Now they were embracing and huddled in a corner of the sofa. Not far away, two other couples were entwined,
engaging in blatantly intimate acts, oblivious to their surroundings. One woman's skirt strap was pulled up to her arm,
exposing her almost entirely bare breasts, as she wasn't wearing a bra. The other woman's skirt was piled up, revealing glaringly white panties.
The man's large hands began to grope upwards from under Zhao Lan's skirt. She could no longer resist his advances;
she didn't want to offend such a customer. She breathed heavily, half-heartedly, rubbing her face against his.
Each time he made his advances, she feigned resistance, half-heartedly resisting, one hand grasping his large hand that slipped under her skirt,
the other pressing down on the other side of her skirt, her legs tightly pressed together.
Her shyness actually encouraged his further actions. He began to touch her most intimate
parts through her panties, his fingers finding the location of her vulva and rubbing it up and down.
She moaned exaggeratedly, while her hand touched the man's genitals, gently rubbing his erect penis
through . From his heavy breathing, she knew her actions were having an effect,
and she stimulated his genitals even more vigorously with her hand, kissing his face ingratiatingly. His
fingers restlessly slipped into her panties, teasing her pubic hair. She twisted her body a few times, not
intending to immediately stop his violation.
He became more vigorous, his fingers penetrating deeper into her panties, directly touching her already engorged labia. She was
happy that her genitals were already wet; men always liked to see women's bodies react to their play.
It was time to stop him. She had to let him have his way, not give him everything too easily, otherwise
it would be hard to keep him interested for long. She playfully pushed his hands away, crossing one leg over his,
maintaining intimacy while effectively protecting her private parts. At the same time, she wrapped her arms around his neck, feigning
complaints in a sweet, coquettish voice.
This man was clearly an expert; he seized on her teasing, pulling her into his arms and
showering . Unable to resist the onslaught, she let him have his way, then, panting heavily, playfully pushed
him away, repeatedly saying, "It's killing me! It's killing me!"
Of course, he wouldn't let her off so easily. He pulled her up, making her straddle his lap,
grabbing her arms and pulling her around his neck, and began to attack her upper body with his hands. His hands pulled down
the straps of her skirt, letting them hang on her arms, revealing her milky-white bra. Her firm breasts
were faintly visible through the silk fabric.
He held her tightly, preventing her from pulling away, and began to kiss her bra.
She moaned softly, mostly out of instinct. For some reason,
her breasts remained incredibly sensitive even after so many years of marriage. This was why she always insisted on wearing a bra. Of
course, wearing a bra couldn't stop many men's advances. Customers often asked her to take it off.
But this gave her some leverage, and some customers had indeed told her that women wearing bras were more
sexy and arousing.
Now, the man calmly rubbed his mouth against her bra, while his hands moved to her
back. She pressed her face against his hair, resisting the stimulation from her breasts. Every time a customer fondled her breasts
, it was the most unbearable moment for her. What was infuriating was that almost every customer was interested in her breasts; she didn't know if it was
because her breasts were particularly full, or if this part of a woman's body simply held an irresistible attraction for men.
No matter how much she hated the customers playing with her breasts, she had to endure it now. She had already
used the music to sway her body several times during the dance to avoid his lewd actions; if she avoided him again, he would probably really be displeased.
He was indeed a seasoned womanizer. With both hands behind her back
, he unhooked her bra through her skirt, then used his lips to pry open the already loosened bra, kissing her breasts directly.
The intense stimulation was almost unbearable for her. But with his hands on her back, there was no escape. She
withdrew her hands from his neck, tightly covering her bra, which was about to fall off, carefully protecting her nipples, leaving a small portion
of her breast for him to enjoy. She began to twist her body, pressing his head forward. His lips remained firmly pressed against
her breasts, no matter how much she struggled, she couldn't escape. She sighed and had to give up, letting him
kiss and fondle her breasts directly, only pulling away forcefully each time he was about to touch her nipples.
The music started, and she invited him to dance again. But he lifted his head from her breasts and said, "No dancing, let's just
play like this." She was a little nervous. If this continued, he might ask for real. She had encountered
this situation many times before. Usually, she would simply refuse. Most men wouldn't be particularly unhappy, at most they would just
give a smaller extra tip.
But today? Should she really agree to do it with him?
The thought of completely opening her body for this man to enter, thus crossing this
last line that every woman cherishes so dearly, suddenly filled her with extreme panic.
How should she negotiate the price? Two hundred dollars? Or one hundred? At least eighty. One time or an
hour? Even prostitutes outside charge fifty dollars an hour. She told him it was her first time, not to lie, but so
he could ask the boss. She wouldn't do anything less than eighty.
She regretted not having Zhuang Jianhai give her a precise price yesterday.
Lost in thought, she saw him reach under her skirt and unzip his own pants.
It seemed he was at the point where he absolutely needed to release his pent-up sexual desire.
This was the time to speak. She gently moved her skirt aside, covering the ripped opening in his pants, and
softly said, "This isn't the place for this. If he's willing, I can go with him to a private room."
He said angrily, "Why not? Aren't you afraid of being seen?"
As he spoke, he lifted her skirt, pressing one of her hands to his erect penis beneath, leering at her with an ambiguous
smile, his hands caressing her snow-white thighs. It turned out he wasn't even wearing underwear, already prepared to have the girl
masturbate him.
She knew he only wanted her to masturbate for him here, and he didn't want to spend the money for the private room. She
cursed
him inwardly for being stingy, but the thought that she wouldn't immediately cross that final line into prostitution, even if it was only a temporary delay, made her feel relieved. She was actually more nervous if he really wanted to do it.
She hesitated for a moment, then deliberately covered his entire genitals with her skirt, reaching inside to gently
touch his penis, loosely grasping it and slowly stroking it.
His lips met hers.

Chapter Two
The breathing in the back of the car grew heavier, and Zhuang Jianhai could feel the previously smooth ride becoming slightly
shaky. He smiled contemptuously; the young man in the back seemed to have run out of steam quickly, and the car
had only just left the Bund.
This kind of affair was commonplace for him, happening almost daily under his nose.
This was why he was so indifferent to it. He believed he didn't care that Zhao Lan was being played like this. But… would
she get any benefit? If the profit wasn't much, it was better not to do it at all. This was something he repeatedly told Zhao Lan. He firmly believed that
everything had a price.
Thinking back to the time he accompanied Lao Wang to the nightclub, he was very dissatisfied with her current earnings. After being played
like this, she only got a few bucks; it would be better to just go for it and actually make money.
This was why he agreed to let Zhao Lan handle the full-service requests from customers on a case-by-case basis. Of course, he wouldn't
tell her that. What he told her was, "If someone's willing to be a sucker, why not take advantage of them?"
He didn't understand why he hadn't been able to see this clearly. How naive he was! Look at Duan Husheng,
he was so shrewd. Duan's wife would always call Duan Husheng first when she had a date. If Duan Husheng's car was still available,
she could make double the money. How carefree.
Thinking of Duan Husheng's wife's affected swaying as she clung to a man, he recalled
the woman's body that sat on his lap at "Xin De Lai"—she was also a Shanghai woman.
He had just happened to choose a Shanghai woman. He boasted to Lao Wang that he had good taste. Afterwards, he
even thought he had good taste himself.
That day, Lao Wang was stunned by the row of girls as soon as he entered, but Zhuang Jianhai was worldly. He saw
the girls' flirtatious behavior but remained unmoved. After all, this was his profession; he seemed to be
quite the veteran. He was rather averse to overly frivolous women, so he naturally chose a relatively dignified and
mature woman. Moreover, her skin was truly fair, very pleasing to his eye, even fairer than Zhao Lan's.
Perhaps his choice was unconsciously influenced by Zhao Lan?
When he later discovered she was a genuine Shanghai woman, he was very pleased with his judgment. He
later boasted to Lao Wang that these days, dance halls were full of out-of-town girls, but he could tell at a glance who the real
Shanghainese were.
Lao Wang, however, was captivated by a glamorous woman. According to Lao Wang later, he couldn't stand that woman.
His face was covered in lipstick marks as he said this. However, Zhuang Jianhai knew this wasn't Lao Wang's true feeling. He could tell that
Lao Wang still found the woman very appealing.
The girl accompanying Zhuang Jianhai was named Yun Hong. A truly tacky name. But what could he do? These days, all the girls had tacky
names. What was Zhao Lan's name in the dance hall? He still didn't know. Something like Jingjing?
Was it Zhengzheng?
For some reason, having this woman's arm around him always reminded him of his wife. Perhaps it was because it was his first time
seeing a woman outside, and he felt a little guilty? Zhao Lan knew he had accompanied Lao Wang out, but he hadn't told her about going to the dance hall.
It wasn't that Zhuang Jianhai was afraid of his wife. Unlike many Shanghai men, he was never henpecked. Zhuang
Jianhai didn't tell Zhao Lan about this trip to the dance hall because he hadn't planned to waste money there.
He believed Zhao Lan would understand. After all, Lao Wang had come from afar and had never been to a Shanghai nightclub before
; taking him there only cost a few hundred yuan, which he could earn back in a few nights. Shanghainese are never
stingy. They are always generous when it comes to spending money, but because they are shrewd with their money
, many people mistakenly think they are stingy.
However, he didn't mention it to Zhao Lan afterwards, not because he was afraid, but for another reason.
In his view, spending money in a dance hall was basically being ripped off. Leaving aside the outrageously expensive drinks,
ordering a song and belting out a tune to make others uncomfortable while venting his own frustrations was one thing, but being asked
for was something he simply couldn't accept. Who didn't know those women's sweet talk was all fake?
Dancing with a woman? He wouldn't even be interested in dancing with his own wife. He'd been there before; it was all the same.
He didn't tell Zhao Lan about this experience afterward because it truly surprised him. It was
quite a shock. Although they only stayed there briefly, it was a truly intoxicating night
, one he would never forget.
He still remembered the eerie men and women in the dimly lit, rotating colored lights on the ceiling. His
mind gradually recalled almost every detail of that day.
Yun Hong led him inside, and he was immediately stunned by the "outrageous" "dance moves" of several couples on the dance floor.
What kind of shady dance hall was this?
A man lifted his dance partner's skirt and rubbed his thigh against her panties repeatedly. Even
Zhuang Jianhai, who had no musical knowledge, could tell that the leg movements were completely out of rhythm and purely an act of taking advantage of the woman. Another
man's hand was inside the woman's panties, directly touching her buttocks, while his mouth was passionately kissing her lips
. Didn't Zhao Lan say that guests were generally not allowed to kiss directly on the lips?
And the actions of another man shocked him even more: he was sucking on the woman's
nipple, which was exposed from under her slipped skirt, and pressing his face against her breasts.
And these women seemed completely unconcerned about these men's outrageous behavior, letting them do as they pleased. Some women
even actively used their bodies to invite the men's advances. Was this still dancing?
Zhuang Jianhai couldn't connect this scene with the image of men and women dancing in his memory. He had thought that
embracing and dancing cheek to cheek was the most excessive thing.
On stage, two scantily clad girls were even dancing a provocative dance. Their actions were almost a provocation to men
. Even he, who considered himself quite worldly, was greatly startled.
He even thought he had gone to the wrong place. But since he was already inside, and had hinted to Old Wang that he often came here,
it wouldn't be right to just leave. Besides, the entrance fee of several tens of yuan probably wouldn't be easy to get back.
mpanel(1);
Old Wang seemed to be bursting with lust, his eyes blazing with desire.
Seeing Old Wang's state, Zhuang Jianhai calmed down. What's done is done. He'd seen men and
women having sex before; what was so strange about a little striptease?
However, what churned in his mind wasn't the outrageous actions of these men and women, but rather the thought of Zhao Lan. Because
the men dancing here were invariably taking advantage of the women to an excessive degree. Was Zhao Lan also being played like this
? Or was this a very shady dance hall?
When they sat down on the sofa in the corner, he discovered that the actions of the men and women sitting on the dimly lit sofa
were even more indecent than those on the dance floor.
Before he could get a good look at the situation around him, Yun Hong's gentle lips were already close to his,
sweetly addressing him as "Mr." and "Boss," and even saying in Shanghainese, "Don't you come often?"
Luckily, her voice was very soft; he was sure Old Wang hadn't heard her, otherwise it would have been truly embarrassing for him. Old Wang was already
at a loss, his arms wrapped around the neck of that seductive woman named Qianying.
Zhuang Jianhai was genuinely intoxicated by the stimulating fragrance emanating from Yun Hong's body pressed against him.
This was something he had never experienced before. The women in his back of the car usually had a strong scent, but this time the woman
's body was actively pressed against his shoulder, and he could touch her breasts with the slightest movement of his arm.
His shock was brief. Although it was the first time he had actually been so close to a prostitute, the thought that he was here
to spend money meant he might as well have some fun, so he gradually calmed down. What kind of prostitutes hadn't he seen? His own
wife was a prostitute, and he had hugged her all the time.
Later, he slowly adapted, boldly opening his arms to embrace the alluring body that was offered to him. He even said to Qianying opposite
him , "She's from New York, you should treat her well." He had
the air of a seasoned pro.
Yun Hong, on top of him, also looked surprised and seemed to press her body even closer to his
chest. This made him very happy. He was no longer numb, and as Yun Hong moved his hand down her neck, he took the opportunity
to touch her snow-white breasts. He thought she would definitely try to avoid him coyly, but to his surprise,
she actively guided his hand inside her bra, while also kissing his cheek in a flattering manner.
He secretly praised her, thinking that the service here was indeed excellent, and that he had been right about what Old Wang had boasted about. He
felt very pleased.
When he touched her soft breasts inside her bra, his face involuntarily turned red, and he was somewhat reluctant to
touch further. After all, it was the first time he had touched a strange woman's breasts like this, and his lower body began to stir.
Yun Hong's hands also roamed freely over his body, from his upper body to his thighs, and then to
the base of his calves. Her hands intentionally or unintentionally touched his genitals.
His lower body immediately became erect. Such a stimulating action so quickly was completely unexpected. Yun
Hong's hands, intentionally or unintentionally, teased his sensitive spots, making his swollen genitals feel incredibly
awkward being touched by this stranger.
He suddenly wondered if his wife was currently serving another man in the same way.
A surge of jealousy welled up inside him—a sour feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time.
His hands became less restrained, boldly kneading her breasts. Her bra only covered
a little more than half of her breasts, and it hung loosely on them; he could easily feel her
nipples inside.
He later realized that the bra clasp had been undone, rendering it useless under her skirt. She
seemed to groan in pain under his kneading, which only aroused his pity, forcing him to stop.
She seemed touched by his kindness, placing his hands on her breasts as if to say, "Go ahead and
do as you please." Touching such a woman indiscriminately aroused him greatly. He hadn't touched a woman's breasts like this in a long time
. In fact, Zhao Lan had never let him touch her so freely; even a few touches would make her scream in discomfort. Now it was different
; Yun Hong could let him touch and play with her as he pleased. He practically held her entire breast in his hand.
Was this how escorts were now, allowing customers to grope the girls at will? Seeing the extremely
outrageous and lewd scene of men and women around him, Zhuang Jianhai still thought of his wife, Zhao Lan, who was entertaining customers at "Hai Shi Hao."
This was a huge loss for him. He never expected that Zhao Lan's escort work had become so blatant.
How was this any better than direct prostitution? The money earned was disproportionate; no wonder Zhao Lan repeatedly said she wanted to take on
clients offering full-service.
Across from him, Qian Ying sat cross-legged on Lao Wang's lap, hooking her arms around his neck, whispering something, her lips
occasionally rubbing against his face, looking coquettish, making Lao Wang dizzy with desire.
A woman dressed in tacky clothes appeared on stage and began to sway her body to the loud disco music, gradually
removing her clothes. It was an extremely lewd atmosphere. More than a month later, Zhuang Jianhai
could still remember many details of the sensations, especially
the intoxicating feeling of kneading Yun Hongxue's smooth, fair skin in his hands.
The sounds of passengers in the back carriage startled him from his reverie. They had had their fun and began to dress and
settle their bill in the dim light. The woman's upper body was still naked in the dim carriage.
Zhao Lan straddled the man's lap, one arm around his neck, the other hand stroking his
penis . She could tell what her client wanted from his panting. The man opened his mouth
to kiss her lips, as if trying to suck the lipstick off them. She slowly opened her lips, allowing him to kiss her more passionately
.
She had never allowed clients to kiss her lips directly before; the contact of bodily fluids always disgusted her. But now,
this kind of kissing is commonplace; she gets kissed dozens of times a night. Sometimes she's even forced to do French kisses,
letting the customer's tongue swirl in her mouth, or having the customer put her tongue in their mouth. What she hates most is when customers
force her to drink mouth-to-mouth; the feeling of humiliation is extremely intense.
The men's mouths, thick with the smell of smoke and alcohol, are no longer so unbearable for Zhao Lan, who is used to it.
What she found unbearable was the intense stimulation his hands were giving her breasts. He had already pulled down her bra
, his hands freely kneading and playing with her breasts. To escape this torment, she could only try to bring
him to climax as quickly as possible.
She pinched the foreskin of his penis with her hands, rubbing it up and down rapidly, the increased stimulation making him breathe
even harder . Her hands were already stained with a trace of fluid seeping from his penis; she knew she needed to push him
harder to reach orgasm.
He moved his hands down, reaching under her skirt and pulling her panties down to his thighs as far as he could
. Her genitals were basically exposed in front of his penis. She sighed inwardly, not stopping his advances,
continuing to masturbate him while kissing him more actively, trying to distract him from his actions.
He began to knead her labia with his hands, while his other hand played with her pubic hair. Fortunately, it seemed he only wanted to
play with her genitals and didn't intend to penetrate her, otherwise it would have been another ordeal.
She continued to stimulate his genitals with her hand, the penis growing harder and harder, throbbing occasionally in her
grasp. She knew her genitals would soon be covered in a disgusting amount of vaginal fluid. But this wasn't a bad
outcome; hopefully, it wouldn't ruin her skirt.
He extended his devilish tongue from his lips, probing into her mouth and beginning to thrust ruthlessly.
She opened her mouth wider, allowing him to indulge. She didn't want to interrupt his
excitement as he approached climax; stimulating him to this point was already exhausting. Besides, not letting him take advantage might offend the customers
, so she could only let him take advantage of her mouth.
The hot penis grew harder in her hand, almost reaching its climax. Suddenly, he pulled her buttocks forcefully against
his thighs, the head of his penis pressing directly against her labia; any further thrust would penetrate inside
.
She had encountered a cunning old hand. She responded with moans, determined to stop him there. She gently
pulled his penis upwards, positioning it slightly above her labia, and pressed the glans against her pubic hair, rubbing it more rapidly.
He didn't force her; instead, he pressed one hand against the back of her head, pressing his hand more forcefully against her mouth, swirling his tongue inside,
while his other hand grabbed one of her breasts, squeezing it so hard she almost cried out in pain.
A sudden, intense orgasm erupted. A gush of hot, wet liquid flowed through the pubic hair above Zhao Lan's vulva.
His thick penis throbbed repeatedly in her hand, his entire body thrusting forward several times, seemingly in sync with each
ejaculation to gain even more pleasure.
She continued to rapidly caress his penis until he released her head, letting her mouth leave as she gasped for
breath.
She caught her breath, took two tissues from the table, wrapped them around his penis, and then carefully
rolled up to cover the thick, sticky fluid that covered her entire vulva. She smiled seductively at the man, who was panting contentedly
, and wrapped her arms around his neck, offering another tender kiss.
Zhuang Jianhai drove slowly along Xizang South Road towards People's Square. His mind drifted back to Zhao Lan.
Was she currently being wantonly played with in some man's arms? Or...?
He knew he had been thinking too much about these things lately. How could he make a living like this if he wasn't so carefree? Let alone let Zhao
Lan actually work as a full-service worker. Ever since his last visit to the "Xin De Lai" dance hall, his mind had been filled with
the illusion of Zhao Lan naked in a man's arms.
He shook his head sharply, knowing he was just indulging in pointless fantasies again.
He gripped the steering wheel hard and professionally scanned the crowd on the street, his eyes scanning each couple.
One couple leaned against a tree trunk, embracing tightly, the woman's legs spread wide, the man's legs between them.
Another couple huddled in a secluded corner, their faces pressed together. Couples strolling hand-in-hand
are a common sight on the streets of Shanghai at night. Women's clothing has become increasingly
revealing and sexy in recent years, reflecting the improvement in living standards.
A beautiful figure flashed past in his side mirror, bringing back the image of Yun Hong's alluring face
and captivating body to his mind. Zhuang Jianhai's thoughts drifted back to that intoxicating night at the "Xin De Lai" dance hall
.
The "Xin De Lai" dance hall was indeed incredibly lewd. Zhuang Jianhai thoroughly explored Yun Hong's body.
As if to confirm his last remaining doubt, when his hand touched Yun Hong's panties, she not only
showed no resistance but also willingly parted her legs, allowing him to freely touch and fondle her genitals through her panties. He
almost inserted his fingers into her vagina through her pants.
This far exceeded his acceptable limits for escort services. But it seemed all the escorts there were like this.
And this touching was just the beginning.
Did Zhao Lan also work like Yun Hong? He had never asked his wife this question. He really didn't want to embarrass her
. He had been the one to strongly persuade her to become a prostitute in the first place. Getting a conservative woman like Zhao Lan to do that kind of thing required
a lot of persuasion. He hadn't expected the prostitution to be so blatant; even he, usually so carefree, found it hard
to accept. He was quite surprised that Zhao Lan could tolerate this kind of prostitution. Perhaps
"Hai Shi Hao," where Zhao Lan worked, wasn't as outrageous as "Xin De Lai"?
Zhuang Jianhai recalled Yun Hong's hands gently pinching his crotch from the beginning; the stimulation from her skillful hands,
even through his pants, was incredibly arousing. After Zhuang Jianhai refused her invitation to dance several times
, she simply unzipped his pants and reached inside, playing with his bulging penis through his thin underwear.
This bold service greatly surprised Zhuang Jianhai. At this moment, his body was burning with uncontrollable heat; under her
skillful rubbing, his penis immediately swelled to its maximum size. But he still wanted to test
the limits of her service. He asked her if he could put his hand inside.
As he expected, Yun Hong actually reached into his trousers, pulled down his underwear, and exposed his erect penis
. Without any shame, she gave him a meaningful smile, then grabbed his penis and began to rub
the tender skin up and down.
He had never been treated like this before. The gentle touch of the woman's hands on his penis intensely aroused his
lust. He held her slender waist tightly, leaning back on the sofa, fully enjoying the masturbation service from a woman. This was
a service he had never experienced before. It was even more stimulating than having sex directly on top of a woman. He had seen men in
the back of having prostitutes masturbate them. At the time, he was quite puzzled. Why not just masturbate yourself? Why pay
a woman to help? Now it seemed that man wasn't as "Hong Kong Governor" as he had thought. The feeling of masturbation was so wonderful
.
He persisted for a while under her caresses, when suddenly he realized he was about to ejaculate. Wouldn't that make
a huge mess of his pants?
Seeing his hesitant look, Yun Hong immediately understood his thoughts. She released her grip on his penis,
slipped her hands under her skirt, and calmly lifted her buttocks, pulling
down her panties under Zhuang Jianhai's incredulous gaze. Smiling, she returned to his crotch, slipped her pink panties over his penis, and
said softly and understandingly, "Just cum inside."
Zhuang Jianhai was stunned for a moment. Wasn't she already naked?
As if to prove it to him, Yun Hong straddled his lap, her bare vulva directly on his thigh. He
could clearly feel her prickly pubic hair rubbing against his thigh through his pants.
Yun Hong wrapped her arms around his neck, gently pressing her red lips to his, slowly pressing down on him,
rubbing as if inviting him to a passionate kiss. Being embraced and kissed by such a passionate woman, with his legs rubbing against her vulva, and his penis
still covered by the panties she had just taken off, an extremely strange stimulation enveloped Zhuang Jianhai's entire body.
He simply reached his hands under her skirt, directly groping her smooth legs, hips, and even her lower abdomen, then
down to her thick pubic hair, and finally to her cleft. He was so shocked he almost cried out. She
seemed oblivious to his intrusion, instead reaching under her skirt to masturbate him again. His penis
felt even more wonderful beneath her silk panties.
Zhuang Jianhai was completely intoxicated. He passionately accepted her kisses, his hands roaming freely over her genitals, enjoying
her increasingly rapid rubbing against his penis. He trembled, and a thick stream of semen gushed out, all of it shooting into
her panties. That pleasurable feeling was still vivid in his memory.
Whenever Zhuang Jianhai thought of Yun Hong masturbating him with her panties down, his penis would become hard.
Suddenly, he realized why Zhao Lan frequently washed her panties, sometimes two or even three at a time. It
seemed Zhao Lan was indeed providing this masturbation service to her clients; the number of men who had touched her private parts was probably countless.
Thinking this, Zhuang Jianhai felt a pang of pain in his heart.
He sighed, knowing that if Zhao Lan were to offer the full service, he would still have a strong psychological reaction.
"How pathetic," he cursed himself inwardly. "It's nothing, what's there to be so upset about?"
Just then, a couple at the intersection waved to him. He was overjoyed. Business was really good tonight;
days when he could get two customers in one night were becoming increasingly rare.
After drying off the wet semen in the restroom and changing into a new pair of underwear, Zhao Lan returned wearily to
the bench , waiting for the next customer.

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