Write your fantasy,
make it real.

Twenty-three days after night one, Lao K makes good on “a different person, a different position”: this time nobody is invited. Xiaoman goes out in a short skirt and black pantyhose with nothing underneath to flash at the riverside, gets dragged into the back seat, her hose torn open and fucked from behind, and sits down in a bar reeking of cum. The terrace of the top-floor pool suite is separated from the one next door by a half-open partition. Lao K has her kneel naked in the shallow pool and spread herself, and A-Yan, the lone business traveler next door, climbs onto his sofa and sees. Lao K nods at him, and then says: the door is not locked.

At the end of Night Two, Lao K said that next time he would not find anyone, she would go by herself. So he books a high-floor room, sends Xiaoman down to the spa on the lower ground floor, and requests a male therapist for two hours. Rose and sweet orange oil, the sound of waves, disposable panties, and A-Sheng’s hands tugging lower each time, asking if she wants the covers off, asking if she wants it pressed there. She comes back to the room and says, “Someone took liberties with me,” and Lao K makes her tell it step by step, his hands following every word. A week later she goes again, alone. This is Lao K’s hotel diary, Night Three.

Night Four almost did not happen: in the days before her period Xiaoman’s mood is foul enough to cancel three times, and Lao K never pushes, waiting until the morning she says go on her own. All three of them work late and meet at eight at the hotel where she and Lao K first took a room, with a full Italian dinner downstairs first. A-Mu is a professional Lao K sought out, explaining each oil, testing one on her wrist, and after the test cards come back clean he says one word: lie down. His hands from the soles of her feet up leave her running down to her thighs while lying face down, she comes on his fingers first, then two cocks take turns front and back, and in the sandwich it is Lao K who finishes first. Hotel diary, Night Four.

After Night Four, Lao K said the next one should be someone doing it for the first time. Two rooms on the same floor, for safety. A-Ning has never done this; he knocks like opening a blind box, and behind the door is Xiaoman, naked in a collar, waiting for him. He flinches from the camera and never even takes the leash. Test cards, the wait, Lao K off to the shower, and she has his trousers down before anyone gives her leave. The leash, one mouthful left and one right between two cocks, her first deep kiss with anyone but her husband, a cushion of flesh beneath her and a big cock behind, and a novice ridden until he begs. This is Lao K’s hotel diary, Night Five.

On a weekday morning Lao K asks Xiaoman to talk about before, and by the time she is done a wide patch of the sheet is soaked. She names three things she wants: a big one, one with hair and a smell, and to be tied up and taken front and back at once. A few nights later she kneels on a hotel bed, tucks a deep red rose into the crack of her ass, and sends the photo to Lao K. The door sounds, and she smells Leon before she sees him. Red jute rope in diamonds across her chest, wrists bound behind her; Lao K beside them calling the angle, while she needs to pee and cannot, convulsing again and again. Then cowgirl, then front and back together, and when the rope comes off the white runs out of both holes at once. Hotel diary, night six.

Xiaoman is twenty-eight. In the car, down in the underground garage, she said yes to her husband K out loud: tonight she would be used by two men at once. A high-floor room with a single lamp on, the river outside the window. A knock, Ache walks in, K gives nothing but orders, and Xiaoman goes from muffled whimpers to filthy words she can’t hold back, her cunt, her ass, her mouth, opened one after another. This is K’s hotel diary. Night one.