A Portrait Of A Lady

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“Lorenzo. So good to see you. I was wondering when you would be so good as to call.”I am Lorenzo. I am an artist. I am Hispanic and my family have lived here in California for longer than any Anglos present here today. Only the Native Americans have been here longer. I am proud of my heritage. It had been a year’s time since I painted Lady Gwen portrait. Always since then I had wished to come by her brothel and observe my work in its permanent home. My work is shown in many homes and salons here in San Francisco. But I was proud of the nude portrait I had painted from life for Gwendolyn. I had been invited by the Lady. However, I had been rather busy. And to be truthful I did not know how seeing her again would affect me. She had been rather overpowering to say the least. But I went with a certain amount of anticipation. Her brothel was in Chinatown. I knew she was Asian. I didn’t know much more about her. Rumors were cheap. “Gwendolyn. You’re more beautiful than ever. I hope I’m not intruding. I wished to see my work, if that were possible.” “Of course. Of course.” She rang a bell. The same large gentleman who had ushered me in reappeared. “Roscoe, please show Lorenzo to the library. Stay with him. When he’s finished please escort him back here to me. Thank you dear.” I started to leave. “I will see you soon. Yes, Lorenzo? You don’t wish to leave after your little viewing, do you?” “Nothing would please me more than to visit with you, if I may. Thank you, Gwendolyn.” In the library I saw the painting before anything else. It was hanging above a fireplace. It was just as charming as when I had last seen it; when I completed it in my studio. I am not egotistical, just certain of my own talent. I had done a fine job on this nude portrait of Lady Gwen. I took my time browsing around the library. There were two couples there. An older white man with a young black girl with wild hair. On the other side of the room was a tall Anglo woman with long blond hair, with a stocky black man. This was a brothel, so one assumed these were clients and their escorts for the afternoon. On the bookshelves I noticed that most of the books were either erotica or volumes of history. The latter seemed to be books covering Asia, and more specifically the area called Southeast Asia. Many studies of China, Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia and Thailand. I didn’t look at them all, but they aroused my interest. There seemed to be quite a few covering a certain ethnic group. I had not been Ankara escort too aware of the Vietnam War when growing up. I was too young. But I had uncles who had fought there. Rather unwillingly to a great extent. The draft had been in effect and if you were poor and were not in school your draft number would come up and you would be sent to serve your country. It was a chapter in our national history that many forgot. “Let’s go back to the Lady if you please Roscoe.” He took me back to her office just down the hall on the main floor. After knocking and getting her assent he left me with Gwendolyn once more. She smiled and gestured for me to sit. I did so gladly. “So tell me Lorenzo, how did you like my display of your wonderful work. It’s effective, yes? I think so and so do many of my clients. They may look upon me even if they are unable to taste my assets.” She laughed with glee. I smiled. It delighted me to hear her. “They’re fortunate to simply be in your presence Gwendolyn. You know this. So do I, oh so well.” “How sweet you are Lorenzo. You were such a wonderful lover. There, I’ll bring it out in the open. You filled my senses for a time. I must thank you for that, certainly. Now, may I offer you some refreshment? I would love to spend some time chatting with you. This isn’t a busy time.” I agreed and she rang and ordered drinks for us. It was rather early so we just had some sherry. We spent something like an hour or so simply discussing art and music. Finally the subject moved to her library and all of the volumes she had for the use of the girls and the clients. “You understand, I know, that this is my home. So my library must be of use to me, as well as anyone who sees fit to use it.” “Oh, certainly. I must say though that I was struck by all of the books that concerned an ethnic group that fought beside Americans in that little Asian war we were involved in.” “You noticed that? Most don’t. It’s important to me. It concerns my family. I see you understand this. You’re an intelligent man. You couldn’t help but notice. I should have realized this. No matter. I am proud of my heritage even if my family might not be so proud of me.” “I’ve heard the rumors. I won’t insult you by repeating them. But I must say I always wondered what your background was. Simply as a friend and a man who spent many hours admiring you. I would never intrude. But it is interesting to me.” “We’re friends, dear Lorenzo. You’re discrete. Ankara escort bayan You must be in your artistic endeavors. I see this. Let me tell you a little about my history if it interests you so much.” “Pleased do. I’d be honored with your trust in me.” “My family are Hmong. We were established in the mountains of Thailand, Laos and Vietnam. We fought for our freedom during the Secret War alongside the French and later the Americans. We won often, but we also lost. My family was an integral part of the effort. My grandfather was a general. He died during a flight of attack bombers against the North Vietnamese. It isn’t important now except for the honor we feel. Some of us feel that honor. Personally I’m happy to simply be in America now.” “After many years of fighting we often would lose, and finally our group was left in camps in Thailand. We were lucky enough to be resettled in America. Our family found a home here in the Great Central Valley of California. It was rather a heaven for farmers. At least, when it wasn’t suffering from drought. We’re Americans now.” She sighed and looked at me with a wry smile on her face.  “Few Americans have ever heard the name Hmong. Ignorance is often rampant in a free society that hasn’t felt the effects of war for many years. We’re apparently fighting a war even as we speak here. But it doesn’t really affect many, other than the relatively few thousands who actually have to fight it.” I shook my head. “You please me Lorenzo. You understand me better than many. We’ve shared much. Now I’m going to give you a treat. Have you ever been with a Hmong lady and shared her treats? Other than me, of course.” She let loose her hearty laugh. I smiled at her. I would have normally refused her offer. But I didn’t want to be rude. And I had rather enjoyed the pleasures that a Hmong lady could offer. I stood up as she was ringing for Roscoe. I said goodbye and she smiled enigmatically as I left with Roscoe. He walked before me down the hall to the staircase. I went upstairs and he pointed out a room along the long hallway. I tapped on the door and then entered. She was tiny. Her smile was welcoming. Her mouth was small, but her grin was broad enough to be charming. She was lying back against the headboard of the bed. Her legs were pulled up hiding her lower treasure, but her breasts were luscious looking. Rather larger than I would expect from an Asian girl. Perhaps that was Escort Ankara my own prejudice appearing. In any case her tits were like small grapefruits ripe and ready to be picked. Her hair was black and straight and fell to her shoulders. As I approached she straightened out her pretty legs and displayed her pussy for me. It was not hairless completely. She had it shaped like a little heart. It was cute. Her arms stretched out. “Hello, Mr. Lorenzo. I’m Wendy. I’ve heard about you. I’m supposed to make you happy. Do you like your little girl? Am I pretty for you, Master?” I smiled. All of the ladies who worked here were over eighteen. I knew this because I knew my city. We didn’t allow any of our prostitutes to be too young. Not in our brothels at least. They were regulated and inspected. And Lady Gwen had her own standards. We had spoken of this last year. No ladies could work here without being properly vetted. So I smiled at the little Hmong girl knowing she was probably over twenty years of age. “Yes precious girl. I’m pleased with you. Now you need to take off my clothes so we can play.” She jumped up and her tits bounced as she skipped over to begin stripping my clothes off. When I was completely naked, and my prick was getting hard, she took my hand and took me over to a wash basin in the corner. She gently washed me clean and giggled as she stroked it to make me feel good. When I saw she was finished I picked her up in my arms and carried her back to the bed. I sat her on the bed and then took her head and guided it to my cock. I wanted to see if her tiny mouth could take in my cock. She could. She began sucking it hard and I was afraid I would come before using that precious pussy I saw before me. I did fuck her mouth for some time, just enjoying the sensation of her hot wet mouth so tightly wrapped about my dick, and she was sweet enough to take the time to lick and suck my balls too. She even turned her head and licked my pucker beneath my hard on. That was certainly a pleasure and brought me close to coming. But I wanted to come in her wet slit. Finally I let her take a breath and I grabbed her and flung her onto the bed as she laughed with glee. Then I pounced and landed right beside her. I immediately started sucking on those delicious titties. Tasty, and she loved it too. Her hand was on my prick stroking it so I decided I needed to fuck her before she caused me to lose my spunk too early. Placing her little body on the bed on all fours I leaned down and licked her pussy to taste it and make sure it was wet enough for a hard deep fuck. It was, so I guided my cock head into it and popped it in. She whimpered and then begged me to not tease her. “Don’t you girls usually want us to wear condoms, darling girl?” “Oh, don’t worry Master.

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