2018, January 19th.

Flushing, New York

The New Year Eve of 2017 marked the coldest day of New York in the last 34 years.

Yet Ci Ci, a smartly dressed young woman in her late twenties, had been standing on the street corner of Main St. Flushing for the last several hours. She wore a large, bright red overcoat, which covered her otherwise naked body, but one could still see her skin-tight black stockings which were the only fabric covering her long, slender legs. She stood tirelessly on her black open toe stiletto heels. Her round white face was touched up with slight makeup: bright red lip stick and deep dark eye liner. Her naturally black hair was covered under a white fur cap. Tresses of her silky hair fell on each side of her pink cheeks. She seemed distinctly lonely on a bustling street full of people, people with their family, parents, grandparents, and children; and yet Ci Ci was all alone by herself. She held a fist full of pink business cards and tried to stuff them into strangers’ hands, and no one took them. They either avoided her like the plague or ignored her–to whom she was invisible like the air. Her lips quivered and she pushed her chest out as she leaned back against the brick wall. She seemed especially coy. She tried her best to cover up her humiliation and flirted hysterically with any man who looked at her. Yet there was no customer. Her eyes betrayed hunger, even desperation.

She hasn’t made any money for several days, and she has just gotten out of prison a month ago. The police took all the money she had made last year, and, she told her working sisters, if she’s ever caught again, she would kill herself. The streets were frozen with coldness. Patches of snow mixed with ice accumulated on the sides of buildings. The people walking back and forth seemed happy, yet cold, and completely oblivious to Ci Ci’s presence. There was so much joy in the air, but for Ci Ci everything seemed so bleak. Her elderly parents were still toiling away in the north eastern China, a place renowned for its coldness; her little brother did not have the money to go to school and had to become a migrant worker in Beijing. Her younger sister went to work in Japan in a massage parlor and Ci Ci was determined to make money, to let her parents live a wealthy life, to let her brother go to college, and to let her sister find a good husband, preferably a wealthy white man.

She was willing to do anything. Anything at all.

A group of Mexican laborers passed by and were ogling at her, whistling and commenting on her looks to each other.

“Pretty Asian women. You Japanese? You sucky sucky?” One commented.

“I love Japanese. They make so good porn.” Another chimed in.

Their clothes were dirty and their faces were brown with physical labor. She smiled at them; her white face and red lips contrasted with their dark, dirty faces, and she waved at them, then raising her wrist to the side of her cheek, imitating the move of a shy maiden who covered her blushing cheeks.

“30 dollars massage. Full body. One hour.” She said.

Her legs were shivering from the cold, and her hands felt frozen. As they approached her she handed over the little pink cards to the Mexican men which had written in English: “GFE $200. No Condom $250. Semen Swallowing FREE.”

The Mexican men read the simple English on the cards. Their eyes were round like dead fish, their faces wide with grin, revealing their crooked yellow teeth. A few started to grope Ci Ci all over, touching her legs, and feeling her breasts through her overcoat.

“50 dollars. Blowjobs for all of us.”

“No, 100 dollars. You too many people. One, two, three, four, five. Five. Five people.”

“60 dollars, 60 dollars, how about 60 dollars. It’s New Year.”

“80 dollars I give you discount.”

“No condom. You swallow.”

“Okay.”

By this time the two Mexican men standing in front of Ci Ci had already had their hands inside her bright red overcoat partially exposing her naked breasts in the open. Her nipples chafed against the zippers on her red coat and she moaned in pleasure.

“Pay first. Then we go up.” Ci Ci said as she pointed to the metal door behind her. The Mexican men crammed all their crumbled money and handed them in a roll to her like a heap of toilet paper and quickly she led them through the door, then through a dark hallway and went up a serpentine series of stairs. Her bright red overcoat was almost completely open, revealing her naked body underneath as they took turns fondling her large breasts.

“How many men you fuck, you horny slut?”

“I bet she sucked hundreds of cocks, right?”

“A thousand.”

“Oh my god! A thousand. Nasty Asian whore! Nasty!”

By the time they reached the third floor Ci Ci was completely naked, except for her black stockings and black stilettos. They were very happy to discover that Ci Ci had worn absolutely nothing underneath the red overcoat, not even a bra or panties. Her pubic hair was completely shaven, a practice to cater to western men. Her body was curvy with large hips. The red overcoat was torn off from her and threw to the side. Those Mexican laborers hadn’t had sex for months. They were hungry just as much as Ci Ci was. They quickly dropped their pants, revealing their smelly Mexican dicks to Ci Ci and Ci Ci took them like the pro she was.

“Oh you so big.”

“My cock is so much bigger than your Asian husband?” He grinned.

“Yeah so much bigger.”

She put their hardened dicks in her soft little mouth and took turns kissing and sucking on each one while working fast with her hands on the ones she was not sucking on. And within just minutes one of them had shot into Ci Ci‘s mouth. As promised, she swallowed every drop. “I have earned my worth today,” Ci Ci smiled and thought to herself.

“Okay, you finished. 80 dollars more.”

“No 80 dollars for all of us. “

“No 80 dollars for each blow job. You want more? You pay more money.”

The men were all horny and somewhat annoyed at her dishonesty. “Okay, 80 more dollars we fuck your pussy.”

“150 dollars fuck my pussy.”

“100 dollars.”

“No 120 dollars.”

“Okay okay 120 dollars fuck your Chinese pussy. Your pussy is very tight?”

“Of course, I’m Chinese. Our men have small dicks. You have very big dicks”

The Mexican men handed over more money to Ci Ci which she kept in her Louis Vuitton hand bag and with one hand holding her bag, she pried open her pussy with another hand, showing the pink inside and she offered her pussy to those Mexican men by bending over. They took turns fucking her in the pussy, bareback, cumming inside her. It was pure joy for those Mexican men. And it was joy for Ci Ci too. She had been so hungry for cocks. Not only had she satiated her carnal desire, she was also making money, and the sight of those green bills made her even hornier.

“I will finally have a happy new year,” Ci Ci thought to herself. The warmth of those Mexican men’s cum had not just warmed Ci Ci’s body but also her heart. She hadn’t had a good new year in so long. Last New Year’s Eve hers was spent in prison. The previous year she was beaten by a gang of black teenagers. She was happy to finally get some relief, and those men’s sperm were like antidepressants healing her emotional wounds. For those who didn’t cum inside her pussy, she directed them to cum inside her mouth.

But just as she was mesmerized by the bliss of sex, by the success of her little business, the metal door on the first floor was banged open, and there was a loud masculine voice overheard.

“Police! Everybody freeze!”

She looked over the handrail and her face went pale with fear. The worst that she could possibly imagine had finally happened. All the Mexican men froze on the spot with their hands up, except for Ci Ci. She remembered her previous experience in prison. She remembered being beaten by the police, being tasered while she was handcuffed and hung upside down, being forced to have her pictures taken, humiliated, ridiculed, and forced to have enema liquid shot up into her rectum. She felt terror. A fire burned up all her innards as she thought back to all those horrible things that they did to her in prison. The fear, the terror, the unfathomable sadness, the despair burned her brain like a fire, melted all her rational thoughts and had eaten away the last hope. Irrationality reigned. She couldn’t remain still. She grabbed with both her hands over the handrail. Her LV hand bag slipped off her wrist and as it thumped against the dirty pavement the green bills spilled out of its slit opening and scattered like vomit.

“STOP! DO NOT MOVE! Or we will shoot you!”

Ci Ci didn’t care for a word of their warnings. It was as if the police thought death would still scare her, when she had seen far worse than death in prison. She had given up on life already as she ran over to the window directly opposite the handrail and leaped out with a fiery determination to die. Her naked body dropped through the open window, and her head hit the restaurant billboard directly beneath the window, which caused her to somersault in midair and then her body landed onto the street curb. Her bright red overcoat was still on the floor. Her naked body was now three stories down below. Red blood splattered across the wintry ground.

The sound of her fall did not impact the bustling streets of Flushing. In fact most people didn’t even hear her through all the noise.

Police lines quickly drew up and medics arrived in nearly minutes to cover up her cold, dead body and then, it was as if nothing ever happened.

The streets were bustling with people as usual.

Source:

https://cn.nytimes.com/usa/20181016/sex-workers-massage-parlor/

http://www.sohu.com/a/207100254_115479

https://dy.163.com/article/DU2F280P0512F47F.html?referFrom=google

https://zhuanlan.zhihu.com/p/93744209

https://zhuanlan.zhihu.com/p/57802171