Date & Time of Session: July 17
Location:  Central
Name:  Fanny
Nationality & Language: Cantonese
Age: mid 20s
Face:  4/5
Body: 3/5
Height:  5’4”?
Skill: 4/5
Service: 4/5
GFE: 5/5
PSE: 2/5
Price & Session Length: $1200 (body to body, 60 min)
Repeat: Isn’t life always repeating itself anyway?

“Isn’t life always repeating itself anyway?” you just wrote. Restaurants and bars are closed. Again. Your gym is closed. Again. Hong Kong is closed. Maybe closing down. Again. “Mono no aware,” you murmured to yourself, “The sadness of the impermanence of things.”

You are worried about getting sick. You wear two layers of masks on your face at all times and you spray so much hand sanitiser that your hands are flammable. And yet you are bored and lonely. You have been asked to “work from home”. Again. Not that there is any work to do. The office is going to fold. It is a matter of time. Even your maid has abandoned you, like rats swarming out of a city before earthquake. You are totally alone. Social distancing for other people; social isolation for you.

You remember exactly the last time you touched a woman. It was February: more than 5 months ago. It was a girl named Clair in Kama Spa. You remember because you wrote about it on this forum. How sad is that, when you can check your every sexual encounter on a hobbyist site? But this forum is probably the only interesting thing in your life right now. Half of the members wants to know how to cheat on their SO; another half wants to know how to avoid being cheated by a WG. You don’t have a SO to cheat on and no woman found you worth cheating. You simply have no one.

The return of COVID19 reminded you, among many other things, of Kama. You are scared of social contacts, yet you crave for human touches. You texted Joy. Did she remember you? “Sorry I have been away,” you lied. (Where can anyone go anyway? We are all trapped here.) She knew you were lying but let it pass. She said everyone was worried about you and missed you. So nicely put that you almost cried. That’s why she is Joy and you are not.

To the section moderator who wants to know what Joy looks like, she is a real person. When she is not smiling, she looks like Lucy Liu on TV. When she smiles….. Lucy Liu would kill to have that look. Every fibre on her body, even her eyelashes, smiles. This was the smile you got when she opened the door for you last night.  She is not very tall. When you hug her, your lips can just land on her forehead and your nose can just smell her hair. And when she said, “long time no see”, she was at the perfect height to whisper these words into your ear.

You haven’t been to Kama for ages. The place was unexpectedly busy. Joy was apparently back at the helm. She said she came specially to see you. That’s a lie but you believed her. That’s why she is Joy and you are not. Joy said you must try Fanny. “Try whose fanny?” You giggled at the name. She didn’t find that amusing. She must have heard stranger names before. You asked Joy if you could forget about massages and just hold her hands for 60 minutes?

“No,” she said. But her “no” sounds more euphonious than a million “yes” from other girls.

Fanny emerged from the back room. She is a full-figured girl who speaks accented Cantonese. She just came back from holiday, Joy said. Before her holiday someone used to book her three times a week. Does that mean Fanny is good or that guy is rich? “Both,” Joy’s eyes smiled. Score 10 for that smile! That’s why she is Joy and you are not.

Joy told Fanny, “he doesn’t take off his mask this time.” So, she did remember you: that pathetic, hypochondriac wimp obsessed with hygiene and privacy. In the room, Fanny disrobed you and hanged up your clothes. She undressed herself and went into the shower with you. Her body looked better than you thought. Her sudden nakedness stunned you. You haven’t seen a naked woman for five months.

How could two people shower together with one of them (you) wearing face masks? It took skills. Fanny carefully diverted the water with her hands away from your face. This dexterity somehow made her arms squeeze her breasts together into a huge cleavage. They look far more spectacular than when she was clothed. You pressed her nipples on your chest. You had an erection.

You apologised. Then you apologised again for your first apology, because in Kama one doesn’t need to apologise for having an erection. Fanny smiled at your double apologies. She played with your erection. You wished she could stop. Without warning, you cum. Five months’ worth of cum deposited in her palms. You apologised again. Man of your age, you never expected to have an erection, let alone ejaculation. Let alone ejaculation in the first 5 minutes of the session. May I go outside and see Joy now? “No,” Fanny said, “I have not disinfected you yet.”

Fanny sat you on the massage table. She took a bottle of hand gel from the bedside table and put one drop on each of your palms. She then put some on her hands too. “Some for you, some for me,” she said. She rubbed her hands against yours. She then drizzled the gel over her ample breasts. They jiggled. She took your hands and rubbed on her breasts. The sound of rubbing viscous liquid on skin was strangely erotic. It was definitely the most thorough “disinfection” procedure you have ever done. If all nurses do this, COVID19 will be eliminated within days.

After disinfection, massage. Turned out she was really good, but you like disinfection more than massage. Either that or it’s because you haven’t been touched by another human being for months. Oxytocin was so off the chart that you could almost taste it. You wanted to touch her. You turned her around. Two naked bodies intertwined. You rubbed your masked face on her elbow. From there you ran your forehead towards her armpit. You love women’s armpits. The journey from her elbow to her armpit was a journey from the hardest to the softest. From the hollow of her armpit, your lips travelled to the side of her large breast. Through your mask, you munched on the texture of her breast, while moving towards her nipple. That is another journey, this time from soft to hard. Your face moved back and forth, feeling the subtle balance between softness and hardness. She liked the friction of your mask on her skin. She started moaning quietly. You travelled from her chest to her neck. You took your time to feel her ribs and her throat. Your mask kissed her face. Her pupils were so black and dilated. Your lips sensed the cheekbone buried inside her smooth skin. Hard and soft. You could smell her hair again. Her face radiated pink.

Finally, your lips found hers. It was quite a task as they were separated by two layers of masks. But they did find together. Your lips traced the contour of her lips. You could sense her mouth open for you, and her arms tightening around your neck. She sighed. You felt her teeth. Another journey between softness and hardness. You pressed yourself against her body.

Just let me hold you, you said, I am so lonely that I am going to be dissolved into air. You followed the curves of her body. You glided your face on her inner thigh. She was more naked than the usual nakedness. The masks on your face made your body more sensitive to her nakedness. She moaned. You could see her opened up like a flower. You pressed your face against the middle. Your mask was wet.

You came up to her again. Her face was now on fire. She looked down and her hands searched for your penis. You forgot about your penis as your mask was doing all the voyages on her body. To your surprise your penis was hard. As if her life depended on it, she grabbed your penis and started pumping. You wanted her to stop, until you didn’t want her to stop. Penis throbbed. Hands pumped. Your throat tingled. You wanted to pull back. She wouldn’t let go. Without warning, a string of white blobs hurled at her belly. Then again. Then again. Then again.

“I apologise,” she said.

Fanny asked you to rest while she took a shower. The room was smelling of sex. Or was it just my mask? Lying there, you worried that Joy might laugh at you and the smell. But then, why should you apologise? Isn’t the purpose of going to Kama to make the room smell of sex? Isn’t these room built for this purpose?

Joy was sitting on the sofa with her three mobile phones. She asked you to sit next to her. You were nervous. You wanted to become one of her phones. She said something about being grateful that you came during the new lockdown. Fanny came out to say goodbye to you. She spoke but her eyes were saying something else. It was only after you went home did you realise this: she never saw your face!

You texted Joy and asked for Fanny’s photo. “She is the kind of girl who will be nice to you one hundred more,” Joy wrote back, “if you are nice to her.” You didn’t know if you were “nice” enough to her.

What is the point of this “report”? You don't know whether other people can reproduce the service you got, or whether they will agree with you. You don’t even know whether Fanny will still be called Fanny tomorrow. This is not a report. This is a story about your love of Joy, Kama and the female body. You wrote this because you have nothing better to do, and have everything to remember.

You are still playing with mask you wore last night while you are writing this. Perhaps you will never throw it away. It’s when you are writing that you discovered something on it: a small curly hair.

COVID is tough on us all, and the description you make of a lack of human touch and engagement possibly the worst. The tragic sadness of isolation is awful. I appreciate and am happy you’ve booked the mould and gone to Kama. However if the fear of contacting is what keeps the mask on. I think it’s bloody selfish. Do you realise the amount of crap that gets trapped in a mask? If the mask you went through the entire session is the same mask as the one you wore outside whilst travelling to Kama, the risk you put others whilst kissing through a mask as they aren’t wearing one?  

Just not on buddy.

Thank you bros for your feedbacks and PM. Your support has been amazing. I have replied most of the PM by PM. My response to some of the feedbacks here:

twiceAweek: Thank you for your reminder. I am sorry too late to put on RA now.

Mister: I can definitely verify the girl on the photo is the girl I met. Of course in reality she is a little less glamorous than in the photo. I guess no one would use the bad photo of herself as the professional head shot. About 10 years ago I saw Amanda Seyfried drinking coffee at Fuel in IFC. She was definitely the hottest girl in the cafe, but was she as hot as in Mamma Mia? The answer is no. I guess in the movie her look was the work of the lighting engineer and cinematographer. Same thing as these head shots. I can't claim I look the same as my profile photo on company's website either.

Dryice: I am sorry I omitted to say I have a stash of face masks and gloves with me all the time and I change my mask, at least the outer one, every time I enter a new room. On the night I visited kama, I changed my masks right after entering the building and once again right after I left. I am sorry i didn't clarify this. I thought it's common sense.