The Erotic Quest of Dirk and Honey (17 page)

“Hello?” he called out. “Anyone here?” Silence greeted him. In the corner of the room, below a hanging paper lantern, he noticed
another table. On it was a slender-stemmed pipe and a small box of wooden matches. He sniffed the bowl of the long pipe and
grinned in recognition. Opium. The real stuff. Not one to let such an opportunity slip by, he struck a match and lit the black,
sticky residue, inhaling deeply on the pipe. The heady
effects of the powerful drug were instantaneous. He settled his long frame on the yellow satin couch and puffed away, realizing
he was taking further risks, but too curious to stop.

Time slipped steadily away and he was so stoned that he had little desire to move; his limbs seemed extraordinarily heavy,
and visions of Oriental concubines began invading his awareness. Lovely, black-eyed, raven-haired beauties in traditional
robes appeared as if from nowhere and pulled him to his feet. Gently they eased him out of his clothes and, naked, he towered
above them, grinning down on their perfect beauty, trying to determine whether they were real or only figments of his overstimulated
imagination. A soft robe of blue silk was placed around his shoulders and he was tugged forward, one girl on each hand, another
behind him, pushing steadily. They moved him directly to one of the large, gold-threaded tapestries, and as if by magic, it
parted, revealing a large, opulent room.

The sweet smell of burning incense invaded his nostrils as he was maneuvered into the luxuriously furnished room. Priceless
Oriental antiques were everywhere; it was a room truly fit for an emperor. At the far end he was lowered with delicate precision
to a raised platform covered with silk pillows, and one of the lovelies stuck an orange segment into his mouth. Its sweetness
was astounding. Another was bathing his feet in warm water, massaging them with a musk-scented oil. Still another was arranging
pillows behind his head, propping him up to a partial sitting position. Grinning like a fool, he watched through lowered lids
the dreamlike proceedings, trying to figure out whether he was blissfully stoned or in the midst of a fantasy come true.

Lute music began playing from somewhere nearby, and as if on cue, the three black-eyed beauties ceased their
ministrations and gathered before him in a row, bowing subserviently, each a mirror image of the one next to her. In time
to the delicate music, one by one they parted the sashes of their richly hued robes and dropped them to the carpet. He stared
in wondrous delight at their perfectly formed bodies. Their breasts were small and set high, and the coal-black triangles
between their trim thighs sparkled with a healthy sheen in the faint light. They turned away from him, displaying their straight,
strong backs and the sweet curve of their asses, like rounded scoops of almond-flavored ice cream. Dirk’s bird began to sit
up and take notice.

The lute was joined by several other Chinese instruments he could not name, and the music picked up tempo. The trio of beauties
joined hands in a circle on the vibrantly colored carpet and, with a tantalizing smile in his direction, quickly formed a
living, inverted pyramid. One girl stood holding on her slightly bent thighs one foot of each of the other two standing girls.
The two on the sides arched way back, each held only by one hand of the girl underneath. Their black-haired pussies protruded
like chocolate-covered cherries. The two on top leapt lightly to the carpet and at once fell forward onto their hands, kicking
their feet up and rising into a handstand on either side of the girl in the middle, who once again held them balanced—this
time by one of their legs. Dirk applauded madly.

Still more athletic formations were exhibited, each more difficult than the one preceding. The trio were remarkably elastic,
able to bend and contort their slender, lovely bodies into the most unbelievable shapes and positions. Regardless of the permutation
of bodies being displayed, there was an underlying sensuality in all their movements, as if the exhibition were for one purpose
only: to arouse the viewer to a state of erotic tension. His bird
was standing rigid underneath the blue silk of his robe and straining to be released, to fly into at least one of the black
bird nests before him.

Teasingly the trio flipped over into a row of backbends, their plump, ripe cunts aimed directly at him, their trim thighs
wide open, the luscious lips of their pussies like a matched set of halved walnuts. The girl in the middle remained in that
position as her two sisters moved to either end of her. One placed her mouth over the exposed pussy, the other placed her
crotch over the upturned mouth of the backbending one. Soon they were in the sweetest daisy chain, linked together in a circle
with their mouths on one another’s pussies. Dirk could not stand the tension any longer. He opened his robe and took his bird
in hand, stroking it up and down as he stared into the tangle of sweet meat.

When the talented trio came up for air and saw him pounding vigorously on his rigid prick, they frowned at him as if he had
broken a house rule. They crawled up on the silk pillows beside him, tugging off his blue robe. They laid him out flat and
took his hands away from his swollen dick. One girl’s hand grasped his fluttering bird near the base, and directly on top
of that hand another girl clutched it, then the third on top of that one. Rhythmically they began to stroke up and down, their
lovely faces serious as they concentrated on matching movements. He reached out a hand and fingered the loose lips of one,
finding her tight and moist. Encouraged by her docile reaction, he reached for a second helping and found this one the exact
duplicate of the other. As the triplets pumped on his peter, he fingered two of their cunts. The third looked at him sorrowfully
and he snapped his tongue at her, indicating that he wanted to lick her silly. Obligingly she scooted around and hunkered
down over his face.
His tongue darted into her, parting her outer lips and getting down to business. She tasted like ripe melons.

Fingering, tonguing, his cock twitching in their hands, Dirk felt a growing urgency to satisfy more basic needs. But the trio
knew what they were doing; theirs was an ancient, honored art and they were a marvelous, well-oiled machine designed expressly
for the purpose of pleasing a male. Just when he felt on the verge of showering them with semen, they would change positions
or tactics or rhythms, easing him down on the other side of ecstasy and gently but steadily raising him back up again. One
would suck on his dick, another on his toes, another on his fingers. Then they would change; rolling him over, one would tongue
his asshole while another would wash his balls in her mouth, and the third would take both his thumbs and jam them into her
open portal of pleasure.

And his bird kept growing larger and larger, turning beet red, its engorged head a deep purple, pulsating with every pounding
beat of his overstimulated heart. He felt that he was being tortured, tormented, that the lovelies were deliberately trying
to drive him mad. Even when one slid her juicy cunt over his dick and began athletically to bounce up and down on it, like
a pogo stick, he could not help thinking that this too shall pass… and it did, for when his balls began to contract, signaling
an approaching climax, the girl would slip off and shove his screaming peter into a cool liquid, sending him plummeting away
from coming. On and on they worked on him, until he had no thoughts, no feelings except in the hot head of his perplexed and
pleading bird. It was as though the trio had turned him into one giant throbbing cock, and he began to moan with the agony
of it all.

Regardless of how much he ate at their jelly rolls, or how deeply he fingered their moist channels, the triplets
gave no outward sign of arousal. Steadily they went about their business, impervious to their own pleasures. He began to writhe
on the silk pillows, pleading for release, his senses satiated, his bird becoming numb from the workout. At last one of them
let him enter her pussy again and he banged into her, bouncing her up into the air, their pelvises crashing together. Nearer
and nearer he approached the elusive goal, and he feared he would be teased away from it once more.

Closer and closer he felt the tidal wave building, and he lapped frantically at the dripping lips perched over his face, his
middle fingers dived deep into the last girl’s pudendum. The tension-filled ecstasy was overwhelming, mounting steadily until
he felt he could not take any more. Higher and higher his lust climbed, and then peaked, balanced precariously on the very
edge of the precipice. Instinctively the trio of beauties stopped all their movements and he hung suspended on the unbearable
brink. All at once, he blew up in an enormous explosion of semen. Over and over, he sailed snowballs of gism everywhere and
still he kept coming, bucketsful it felt like, and he was drenched from head to toe with the most satisfying climax of his
life. It was so complete, so all-consuming, he immediately blacked out and sank into the silky skin surrounding him, drained
to the last drop.

When he came to, he was back in bed in his own hotel room. Confused by the sudden transition, he tried to ease his head off
the pillow, but did not have the strength. His entire body felt used and abused. He raised the covers to look down at his
poor tortured bird. It lay coiled on his thigh like a sleeping snake, but it was the strangest color it had ever been—an almost
green tinge at its head, while the rest was a sickly, pale purple. Exhausted, he rolled his head into the pillow, smelling
the delicious
aroma of the triplets nearby. On the pillow next to him lay three slightly bruised gardenias and a bill printed neatly in
English.

It read simply,
For services rendered by the Mee-Lan Triplets—three thousand dollars
.

And that sum was exactly what was missing from his wallet.

“I didn’t have a chance to show them Kolina’s picture,” Dirk reported with a rueful smile.

“What?” Honey exclaimed. “You went all the way to Shanghai, spent three grand for a tryst with the triplets, and failed even
to get around to your purpose in being there?”

His lightly freckled face flushed and he ducked his sandy blonde head, looking like a guilty little boy. Purposefully she
looked away from him and down over the crowd encircling the paddock. She and Dirk were sitting in the bright afternoon sunshine
on the outside terrace of the members-only lounge of the exclusive Royal Hong Kong Jockey Club. She had arrived in the city
the morning before, but Dirk just had returned from his fruitless sojourn in Shanghai. She swept a stern gaze back to him.
“You dummy, I thought finding Kolina was paramount to you.”

“It is,” he replied defensively. “I told you I was half drugged on that opium, and never even had the opportunity to question
them.” He fiddled nervously with the binoculars hanging around his neck by a leather strap.

“Well, if that doesn’t beat all,” she muttered, and took a sip of her cool gin and tonic. Below, the packed grandstand roared
en masse at the start of the fifth race. She watched a bay thoroughbred charge into a comfortable lead. “My lucky number seven
is ahead,” she noted aloud, with little enthusiasm.

He glanced down at the track, following the race’s progress around the large oval, and mumbled, “I can’t get used to them
running clockwise.”

“And I can’t get used to your attitude,” she sighed. “There I was, in the mountains of Bulgaria, busting my ass to help you
while you’re off dorking around with some dippy triplets.”

“They were sensational,” he said emphatically. “Well worth the price
and
the trip. They would’ve blown even your mind, they were so talented. How was I to know I wouldn’t get to speak to them?”

The cheering crowd below broke into sustained applause. Number seven had won. It didn’t seem to matter to Honey as she said,
“Dirk, you’re not going to like what I’m about to say, but say it I must. I think we’ve reached a dead end and should call
it off.”

“Not on your life, sis,” he burst out. “You can quit if you want, but not me. I’m going to find her if she’s thirty-five by
the time I do.”

“But we don’t even know for certain that she’s being held against her will. Yves Bouscaral thinks she’s highly promiscuous
and given to mad crushes. Granted, he could be saying that to protect his older brother. But if she is by chance with Henri,
it may be through her own choice,
because she’s enamored of him—an older man and all that.”

“You haven’t seen her in the flesh,” he said. “Well, I did, and she was frightened and seeking help. I didn’t imagine that.
That was real.”

Honey reflected for a moment, realizing she was treading on very thin ice; when Dirk got worked up about something, hell or
high water wouldn’t persuade him otherwise. She reached across and gently took his hand. “Dirk, you are a dear and generous
man to take up her cause. Even as a kid, you were always for the underdog. But face it, we’re licked. Where could we possibly
look next? Henri Bouscaral has unlimited funds and could be anywhere in the world.”

“
We
have unlimited funds, thanks to Wildon Enterprises,” he replied forcefully. “And by God, I’ll spend every last cent of my
share to find her.”

“I have no doubt you will,” she said, and fished her winning ticket stub out of her purse. “Be a pet and go cash these in.
We may need the bread by the time we’ve located her.”

An infectious smile broke out on Dirk’s boyish face. Impulsively he leapt up and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. “Thanks,
Honey. You’re the very best.”

“Well, at some things, yes…” She laughed with him and watched him lope away toward the betting windows. At that moment her
love for him swept over her with such force that she felt tears welling.

No one in the world meant more to her than her baby brother. She had seen him through many a crisis, and vice versa, but nothing
had seemed so important to him as this latest obsession. Even his physical appearance had changed drastically; he was gaunt
and paler, a tense nervousness had invaded his gray-blue eyes, and he seemed
to have lost his sense of humor, becoming short-tempered and testy. Those changes underscored how seriously he was taking
this mission. It pained her to see him in such a state, and she vowed to herself right then that regardless of how futile
his quest seemed, she would help him to the bitter end. After all, he was her only family, and one thing she had learned over
the years: blood
was
thicker than any other bond. At least to the surviving Wildon clan.