The Sidecar Tales 04 - Ti Pao

Even now, I sometimes think Norman Choi knew a lot more than he was telling me. At the end of a week, I received a short report from the magistrate of the court. It stated that:

(A). Mom had an un-treated, 3rd stage syphilis, now incurable, which had caused an onset of organic dementia. Blood tests were followed by an MRI, which confirmed extensive areas of her brain were damaged by the disease or just plain not there any more.

(B). That she had no assets whatsoever. She was totally broke. All her investments, stocks and bonds plus the house had been sold to an un-named 3rd party, right out from under her ... apparently by use of a series of forged signatures and dates—all identical. The court was following up on this, with contact to the criminal system, using input from my attorney back East.

(C). That her lawyers would have to 'eat' her un-paid bills, and that, due to the 'pre-existing quitclaim,' that they had no further claim on my personal assets.

(D). That she was to be placed in a facility for the elderly, criminally-insane, to the end of her life.

(E). That she had already had a couple of strokes, and that there was every evidence that these would continue until one killed her.

(F). Finally, that, through the intervention of myself, through my attorney, that the costs of her placement would be borne by me. So, she was housed at a high-end facility in the city, and that carefully-supervised visitation rights would be granted me.

So, over the course of months, I watched my mom degenerate from a human to a mindless, hate-filled, screaming, feces-throwing menace to anyone who came near her.

The staff at the facility pointed out a circular line drawn around her chair and bed, warning me not to get any part of my body into that radius, because Mom would talk baby-talk, soft and gentle, and lull a listener into that circle, and then, fast as lightening, slash at that person with her extended, claw-like fingers, as she screamed and laughed and uttered more obscene sexual demands in more baby-talk. No matter how they trimmed her fingernails (under sedation, no less), she could still draw blood.

The end came in a couple of months. Mom had a series of strokes, and the last one paralyzed her, and interfered with her swallow and breathing. Informed of this, I came to her, and, finally, was able to sit near to her.

Babbling and wheezing, she suddenly looked up at me and smiled her old smile, and I leaned closer to hear what would probably be the last thing she would say. This turned out to be, "Burn in Hell, you son-of-a-bitch." She turned away, cackling, laughing, doing goo-goo noises, and farting.

Another hour and she was dead.

I had her remains cremated and interred next to her husband.

I wondered how I'd be able to forget and to return some good for all this evil.

My Ti Pao was the answer.

We made love more than I thought humanly possible. I was ordered to eat her out and use my hands and fingers when my cock just wouldn't work. We made love in the living room; in the kitchen (the counter turned out to be just the right height to hold her wiggling butt); the bathroom; in the shower; twice in the clothes-closet; plus any number of places out in the streets, beaches and empty lots of Ocean Beach, Mission Beach, Pacific Beach and Point Loma.

It was after a lazy day that I sat, utterly exhausted with my apparently insatiable pretty divorced Chinese fuck-bunny, on her sofa. Right out of the blue, she said, "I gotta get a job. There's no one hiring real estate salespeople. Market oversold. Mortgage rates too damn high. So I gotta go to work, an' pay off the last of the mortgage."

Sleepily, I looked over at her, and said, "How about I pay off your house. Would that help?"

She punched me in the arm (lightly, as she as a lot of muscle in a small frame), and answered, "You do this and then I gotta fuck you even more to pay you back." She giggled

This had to be de-fused fast, I thought, and said, "No way, you pretty little divorced Chinese sex-slut. Every time we do it, it's only for fun and pleasure. Always free. I'll pay off your house because, well, because I can. Because I want to. And ... oh, yes ... because then you'll have more time to jump my bones."

I consulted my weary and flaccid penis, and pointed, adding, "When I have any bones, that is."

She was silent for several minutes. Then she grinned, and said, "Hookay. You pay off house. Den, I mean then, I find ways to be even more bare and show-off, and I give you my body even more, so you can use me for lots of sex."

About a week later, she was the free-and-clear owner of her small house on the border of Point Loma and Ocean Beach. I sprang for a new roof, too, which went on very fast. I knew that it did, because I watched her 'un-concernedly' sunbathing nude outside, while the workmen put on the roof.

When I did this, I had the germ of an idea about how to get my Ti Pao back to work and still be a consummate fuck-bunny. To start, I asked her to start showing me some of the houses that she sold, and we had lots of fun touring around the city and county, looking at properties she'd represented.

Over the next weeks, while I alternated with Ti and seeing Mom degenerate, I looked at the properties that my lover had sold. A few were the new McMansions, but the far majority were smaller, more practical houses of 1000 to 1700 square feet, and were sold to solid, middle-class folks, many of whom were immigrants.

We were out doing one of those tours, when Ti suddenly reached out and grabbed my arm, from her seat in the sidecar. "Turn in here," she directed, and I drove the rig into a driveway of a modest rancher-style home, set onto the steep slope of a quarter-acre lot in Pacific Beach, just off the far end of Reed Avenue. A 'For Sale' sign was still placed in the front yard, which was a bit overgrown.

Ti jumped out of the sidecar, while I was setting the brakes, and started fiddling at the front door. When I walked up to her, I found my pretty divorced Chinese saleslady, tongue between her teeth in concentration, slowly picking the lock with what appeared to be a set of lock-picks.

Shaking my head, I thought to myself, "Nothing she does should surprise me, any more."

Of course, I was dead wrong!

The door popped open and Ti pulled me inside, closing and re-locking the portal. Then, one finger on her lips for silence, she led me through the house, past three bedrooms, a 70's style hideous bathroom, and an equally hideous 70's-style kitchen.

She opened up what seemed to be a broom closet, and pulled me after her, as she opened what turned out to be a hidden door in the back. She giggled, "It used to be an old 1950's bomb shelter, but it got converted," as she flipped on a hidden switch and the lights came up.

I started to say, "Converted to what? ..."

It quickly became obvious that it had been converted into a BDSM 'dungeon'. There were racks of whips and chains on the wall, and spiky-things hanging from hooks. Oh, my. Dominating the room was a center platform, which looked like a highly-reinforced operating table, well-padded. A BDSM 'horse'. I gapped at the wrist, body, thigh and ankle cuffs, attached to chains.

Hearing a soft slithering noise, I turned to see Ti's silk wrapper fall to the floor, as she nudely hopped up on the bench, and attached first one thigh restraint to her own thigh, and then to the other.

She said, giggling and laughing, "Get crows off. Get hard. You gonna fuck me, right now. Right here. Always wanna be fucking sex slave. Can't move, except to fuck. Room sound-proofed. You gonna be one crazed fucker. No mercy. You fuck me, when I can't get away. You make me cum till I pass out, then you fuck my limp body until I come to, and den you fuck me more. You fuck me until you got no more penis, no more hands, no more lips and no more tongue."

As she was giving out these instructions, she was attaching the two wrist restraints, and then lying back, to display herself, spread wide open, cunt agape, small pointed breasts distended and nipples pointing up, and chest heaving.

I was naked and hard as a brick.

Advancing toward her, mindlessly I wanted to take sex with her. Force my engorged manhood into her body, will she or nil she. My Ti Pao lay there, spread open and unable to move, displaying her now glistening sex.

"Yeah, she fucks real good! Like she's gonna get sexed right now. Yeah, you wanna fuck me, don't you? You wanna fuck your little Chinese fuck-buddy slut. Yeah, I'm a slut! I fuck for free. You like to fuck a slut, don' you?"

"Ya wanna jam that big thing inta me, don' ya. Yeah, shove that huge cock into my hole. Make me cum. Make me scream. No mercy. Ya wanna fuck me. Yeah, little Asian Chinese sex-bunny fucks good! Real good. Bettern' any other slant-eye ho."

I looked down at her, now stretched out on the bench, still holding the base of my enormously hard erected cock, eyes wide, and breathing heavily.

I was going to have her.

"So your little chink slut fucks good, does she? You got no idea how good I fuck! You jam that piece of huge man-meat into me, right now. No mercy. Fuck me hard! Fuck me fast! Go on, man, shove that love-pole inta your little bitch-kitty. Yeah."

Then Ti spread her legs as wide as I've ever seen them before. Not over her head (she couldn't), but wide! Knees bent, and feet still on the bench. Spread herself out, hands imprisoned, in the classic missionary position. Laying herself out to be made to perform sex!

Positioning myself between her thighs, I shoved forward, forcing my huge length of erected manhood into her body. I sunk into her, down to the furtherest depth of her body, stopped only by the impact of my pubic bone on hers.

Her widened eyes rolled up in their sockets, as she screamed in total, shattering orgasm, and I started to slam my cock into and out of her willing, receptive body.

This wasn't love-making. This was raw, fucking, forcing sex. I forced her body to cum and cum. I heard the 'squish/suck' sounds of rigid penis driving into wet, flowing, willing pussy. She gave me obscene and graphic directions, thrashed and twisted her still-free hips and twisted around, clasped my sliding, slippery shaft with her cuntal muscles and urged me on to my climax.

"Damn you, give it to me! Like that, just like that. Don't stop, don't you dare stop. (squish/suck. "Unghh, I'm cumming.") Fuck me like the slut I am. You love to fuck sluts. Fuck me. I'm a Chinese slut, you're gonna make sure I stay that way. (squish/suck, squish/suck. "Ahhhh, yeah, I'm cumming.") Fuck your hard sex into me. I love sex. I love sex. Yeah. Pound me good. Let me see you pound me, in and out, in and out. (squish/sucj, squish/suck. "Geeeezz, I'm cuming again!"). It looks ... ah, power. Fuck me so hard. I'm your slut. You always wanted a fuck-buddy slut and now ya got one. Use my ass. USE ME for sex. (Unnngghhh, cumming, cumming, cumming," Squishsucksquishsucksqujishsuck ... "I can't stop cumming, on and on and on, cumming ...")."

My cock, slamming its full length in and out of my sexy Ti Pao, abruptly swelled up and started pulsing my liquid orgasm in her depths. I couldn't see, I couldn't hear, just cum and shoot jism and cum. "Oh, God, fuck (shoot, squirt). Fuck you, slut (squirt, shoot). Fuckin' cunt (shoot, squirt). Sex you (shoot, a drop or so). Fuck, fuck (try to shoot, no squirt). Yeah, take it, take it (pulse). Take my squirt (pulse, weaker). Fuck you, slut (pulse, weaker yet)."

Then it degenerated into sucking and nipple tugging. I remember I slapped her butt and flicked her tits and nipples. I flicked her clit. I slapped her boobs. I even slapped her face. I made her cum with my hand inside her. I made her take my cock in her mouth. I finger-fucked her in her ass.

Then I got hard again, and I fucked her a second time, pounding and shrieking like a crazed man, which I was, right then. Then more grabbings and tuggings and suckings, and then a third sexing her anally, where I only squeezed out a few drops of jism.

I collapsed on top of Ti, gasping back from a reddened vision, to being able to see and hear again. Grunting with the effort, I managed one-handed to flip open the leather fastening holding her wrist closed over the chains over her head. Looking down, I somehow managed to lever myself off her body, trembling with exhaustion, and look down at the woman I'd just ravaged and raped.

I saw, looking back, a sweaty body, trembling with exhaustion and stimulation.

I also saw a Goddess of Sexual Power.

Not your Greek Aphrodite; your Roman Venus; your Chinese Kawn Yin ... they of the appellations of 'love' and civilized beauty.

I saw the goddess Astarte and Isthar, a holy temple-prostitute ruling Ur of the Chaldees. I saw the Goddess of Crete, she of the bull and maiden bare-breasted worship of the Minoans. I saw the nameless-to-us Goddess of Xian and Stonehenge, who accepted the jism-squirting penetrations of the Winter Solstice, so the sun would return each year.

Millennia old, I saw the Neolithic Goddess, she who demanded sexual worship of men into women, as representative of the Great Father into the Great Mother of us all. Not for love or beauty, but for penetration, reproduction and raw sex.

She looked up at me, black eyes dilated to their maximum, no irises showing. Face flushed but calm. Thighs and hips moving in the slow rhythms of post-coital sex use, saliva drooling obscenely out from her gaping mouth, hands slowly wandering over her divinely-used body.

Looking lower, I saw her womanly-opening, still gaping open. A dark tunnel, partly filled with pearl-grey liquid also drooling obscenely out, to fall in a puddle on the floor, and just beginning to close. Breasts with still-distended nipples, rising and falling with deep breaths.

Looking back, mouth agape, I 'heard'—silently, not a spoken word ... more a communication directed from mind to mind—"Mortal, your worship was ... acceptable. Hold yourself in readiness, that I may make use of you again ... soon."

Abruptly, my beautiful and pretty divorced Chinese lover, Ti Pao, emerged from the spirit of the Goddess. My woman, slowly smiling up at me, said in a hoarse whisper, "That was awesome! You were so big! You hurt me, just enough! So hard. So deep inside. I came and came. We gotta get something to eat. I'm starved! I wanna get blasted on wine, and dance for you, and do more kinky stuff. God, I'm sleepy."

Then, still looking up, she rolled her hips in a definite thrust, and said, grinning that thousand-watt smile, "When can we do that again?"

Gasping and groaning, and feeling like my scrotum and balls had been turned inside-out by an industrial vacuum cleaner, I said, "In about a hundred years."

Somehow, I carried her outside, got her into the sidecar, down the hill, and into the first motel I could find. We slept for 12 hours, then ordered room service for food, and slept again for another night.

My God!

Mom was in her last weeks, when I figured out what to do with my sex-crazed pretty divorced Chinese lady. I didn't want her to work for someone else, but she needed an income. I didn't want her to 'pay me back' for any help, because I figured that would poison our sexing.

I finally saw that pay-me-back could be transformed into 'pay-me-forward.'

So, over the course of the next few months, as my Mom degenerated into her demented death, I gave my Ti Pao a fully-equipped start in the real estate business. I bought her the old building, at a foreclosure auction. I arranged for her to lease an expensive foreign car. We found office furniture and fittings for the office. She changed it from 6 crowded desks into her office, a place for a secretary/receptionist and two larger desks for assistants.

'Image' being everything, we went first class, at all times, in an attempt to portray her as a successful Chinese-immigrant realtor who knew the market and who could get a person into the right house for them.

With a week of opening, she showed and sold her first, small house. In another week (the same week that Mom sent me to Hell and died), she was selling well.

We sexed like crazy people for over 5 months.

Then the sky fell in for me. I got an e-mail from my attorneys back East. I was all but ordered to get back there ASAP, to give a deposition and show state and federal investigating people my forged divorce papers.

Ti had me one last time (in the dungeon), before I re-mounted my scooter-plus-sidecar, to make the long trek back across the country. When I left, I took her going-away present: a new brass key to her back door plus a bound set of the most obscene pictures of my Ti, posing for me.

As I devoured the first miles away from San Diego, I wondered when I'd be coming back.