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illusion of romance.  She pushed me away and smacked my shoulder.  “You are late!  You said ten o’clock,” she said.
    “Sorry.  I had to finish a few things before I came.”  I found myself wondering why I felt compelled to explain.  It wasn’t like she was my wife or girlfriend.
    “I was waiting for you,” she said.  “Very slow tonight.  Only two girls working.  Everybody bored and went home.”  Finally, she came into my arms and sniffed at the open collar of my shirt.  Mmm…you smell good.”  She looked into my eyes and winked.  “No need bath tonight, huh?”
    “No bath tonight.”  I started to unbutton my shirt, and then hesitated.  Without the bath, I wasn’t sure how to begin.  Just peeling off my clothes seemed a bit brusque.  We needed some kind of prelude.  Maybe the radio would play Johnny Mathis again and we could slow-dance.
    Yong rescued me.  “Take off your clothes.  I will give you massage.”
    We both undressed deliberately, folding our clothes and piling them on the floor.  Strangely, I felt totally at ease with her, as if we were a couple who did this every night.
    I lay down on my stomach, and Yong straddled my back, her bare rump pressed against mine.  She rubbed baby oil on my back for a few minutes.  I lay there remembering the night before and anticipating the pleasures ahead.  My cock began to swell.
    Yong poured a line of baby oil down the center of my back and then lay down on top of me.  She slid her body up and down and then in circles as she rubbed the oil all over me with her bare body.  From time to time, she would rise up until only her nipples touched me, tracing patterns in my tingling skin.
    By the time Yong told me to roll over, I was hard.  She abandoned all pretext of massage.  She cupped my balls in her oily hands and bent over and enveloped my throbbing cock in the warmth of her mouth.  She sucked me slowly for several minutes, her lips sliding all the way up and down my length.  Then she rose up and mounted me.  This time, she was wet.  This time, she took me all the way in one smooth motion.
    As I watched her undulating in the warm red light, I wondered how many other men she’d fucked since I had been with her last night.  Quite a few men patronize these places.  Surely she had been called upon to service some of them.  Had she used condoms?  Or had she permitted them to inseminate her as I had done?  Was that why she was wet tonight?
    I wondered, but I didn’t ask.  I really didn’t want to know.  I wanted to think that she had saved herself for me.  I rolled her onto her back, turned off my rational mind, and let instinct take over.
    We copulated much as we had the night before, two strangers united as if they were lovers.  Once again, I drove deep into her as I flooded her with my semen.  Once again, she clung to me, urging me, muffling her cries with a towel.  Once again, we kissed deeply, gently, as I continued to spasm, spurting the last of my semen deep into her belly.  It was satisfying, gratifying, and complete.
    And then it was time to go.  I was dressed.  She was wrapped in a towel.  We stood face-to-face in the red light.  I pressed the folded bills into her hand.  Five hundred dollars again.  My rational mind thought it was foolish to pay her so much, but I wanted her to know how much I valued the way she had treated me.  And I guess I was trying to rescue her in some small way.
    Once again, she closed her fingers on the bills without looking at them.  She wrapped her arms around my neck.  Her towel slipped to the floor.  I enveloped her slim nakedness in my arms.  Her skin was wonderfully warm and soft.  I slid my hand down her back and patted her on the butt.
    “Thank you.  You were wonderful,” I whispered in her ear.  I found her lips, wanting to kiss her again and linger in the fantasy of the moment.
    But her lips entertained my kiss for only a few seconds, and then they slipped off to