When Gwub? Met Guadalupe

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A romantic tale of money, cleanliness and medical tools.
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*** An Excerpt from "Soup Wars" ***

Gwubô loved to travel and his recently earned wealth facilitated this endeavor. The Chinese immigrant left his job as a college professor at the University of Minnesota when he made his first billion from peddling the complete line of NutraFun synthetic health foods for children.

Among his circle of newly won society friends and associates, he had to guard his image very carefully. Having a strong support-network proved critical to his success and he didn’t want to jeopardize its existence. The act of leaving town and finding entertainment in places where nobody cared about his status provided him with the freedom that he craved. Away from those who knew him as a brilliant scientist and a capitalist, he became himself.

In those days, he had a shaved head and a rather somber demeanor. He usually wore a black business suit with a black shirt and gray tie. His polished leather shoes were elegant without seeming ostentatious. He had bought them at a discount store when he earned his second doctorate in genetics. His first doctorate was in dietary medicine.

Gwubô missed his work as a healer and a researcher. Entrepreneurship provided his wealth, but it hardly gave him a sense of satisfaction. The desires of the famous doctor were not easily satisfied. The mainstream and most fringe groups looked down upon games of human experimentation. He tamed the games considerably from his younger days and more dangerous days, but they still seemed rather extreme for most prurient tastes.

Gwubô loved voluptuous Latin women and he often frequented brothels in Tijuana to find his favorite type of partner. Unfortunately, his fetish earned him a bad reputation among the sex-workers of the area. Most of the squeamish lace-clad whores refused to work with him on the sole basis of what he liked. Not Ana Guadalupe Cisneros; she specialized in “sick” fetishes. Bored with the mild BDSM tastes of conceited American tourists and repressed locals, she found the Chinaman to be a welcomed change of pace.

Dressed in a lab coat, she introduced herself as Lupe to the “freaky Chinese doctor.” All the other workers at Taverna Adelina, dressed in their frilly negligees and teddies, made a concerted effort to avoid his glances. The brave (or perhaps foolhardy) businesswoman slinked up to him and cut to the chase. “I am not going to lie to you. I am only interested in your money, so I hope that my proposal will meet your approval.”

Gwubô was impressed. Women, whether prostitutes or not, would often pretend to like him in order to enjoy the benefits of his money. The ample-breasted Zapotec whore with motherly hips was direct and honest. Her words refreshed his mind.

She whispered into his ear, to avoid problems with the management. “With little bit cash, I am more than willing and happy to submit to your metal tools, your piercing needles and any magic potions that you might wish to share.” She slid her right hand down into his trousers and stroked him gently as he sat on the bar stool drinking a virgin Margarita. She looked over her shoulder to make sure that the cheap surveillance camera was not capturing the action. “I wish to experience the reason why the girls fear you so much.”

The feel of her medical gloves solidified Gwubô’s desire for her. They rubbed noses, instead of kissing. The doctor appreciated the fact that she didn’t try to kiss him with her mouth. He paid a full day’s room fee to the barista and an activity fee to the fresh-faced Lupe. Everyone in the know, watched in horror as she and Gwubô strolled into room seven. Many of the workers wondered whether Lupe was insane. She was a nihilist with wild eyes, so the answer wasn’t certain.

In room seven, Lupe took a few hairpins out and her waist-length tresses cascaded down her back. She disrobed and rested upon the queen-sized bed. Her shimmering and bluish-jet hair contrasted against the patterned beige bed sheets. She was 1.84 meters of physically fit Latin Valkyrie curves.

Her dark tan nipples stood petulant upon her full and natural breasts. Lupe’s lipstick matched her crimson nail polish. Electrolysis and spa treatments left her smooth skin with a beautiful glow. Gwubô regarded her as the ideal of female beauty. Her almond-shaped and dark eyes almost made her look like an attractive Laotian woman. Her smooth aquiline nose and pouting lips revealed her true heritage.

The gorgeous prostitute felt mildly disappointed by the appearance of the legendary “freaky doctor”. From all the frightening descriptions, she hardly imagined him as a short and maize-skinned man. His tailored suit looked quite flattering on him, but she wondered if he would look as good without it. His fuzzy shaven head and his goatee did not seem to contribute to his appearance. She hoped that the cover did not reflect the contents of the book. She desperately wanted her fantasy to come true. However, if worse came to worse, he at least paid her upfront for services rendered.

The doctor broke the uncomfortable silence, by stating, “We shall begin,” in Spanish. He bound Lupe with plastic cuffs to the four oak bedposts. Her dark eyes grew wide as washed his hands and put on his gloves. He carefully disinfected platinum and steel tools that reflected their surroundings like mirrors. The suspense caused Lupe to perspire as the doctor checked her heart rate. The customer asked her if she needed any sedatives. She shook her head.

Her response seemed too good to be true. The doctor asked her to speak her desires. She told him, “I want to feel everything.” Her answer was amazing. Gwubô felt himself swell as he lifted a scalpel from the tray. She smiled as she begged him to explore her from the inside out. He put on a lab coat and obliged silently. She moaned when the blade sliced into her tender skin. She smiled, as the shallow scarlet line on her chest grew longer. Gwubô stopped as her fascinated eyes started to water. He had never seen such a reaction before. She actually enjoyed the game as much as he did.

The sting of the needle caused her to giggle. Lupe observed how her purplish blood drained into a pint bag with intense affection. Gwubô scolded her. “You’re enjoying that too much.” He pulled a tiny bottle out of his large suitcase. Dilating drops turned the light in the room into a heavenly pastel palette that burned her eyes. Goose bumps rose from her skin as he sutured her chest. A cold speculum crawled up her up her inner thigh after the doctor completed his needlework.

Gwubô gawked at her, much in the same way a child gawks at unopened Christmas gifts. He peeked inside her body and wrote his observations on a white sheet of lined paper. Unlike a panicking streetwalker or an unemotional clone, Lupe would not require euthanasia after the procedure. Unlike any brothel worker before her, she did not scream for her manager or refuse to play the game.

Instinctively, she understood Gwubô’s need to explore the beauty of nature, so he could emulate and improve upon it. She desired to help him in his unspoken quest to save humanity, for she too wanted to make the world a better place. In their minds, human experimentation was necessary for the creation of medicines with the power to heal all ailments. Lupe felt it was her duty to volunteer as a noble test subject.

After Gwubô completed her examination, he decided to hold a conversation and cut her binds. He stuttered as he wrestled with his timidity. Lupe studied him silently as he collected himself and addressed her in a very personal and almost familiar tone of voice. He was not frightening. On the contrary, he was charming, almost bordering on charismatic. Gwubô admired Lupe with equal enthusiasm. Despite her mousy voice and her sensual appearance, she possessed an air of gravity and intelligence. She was the type of person he actually enjoyed beyond a superficial professional level.

When they shared their fears and hopes, they realized that they needed to be a team. Lupe was the only person in the entire world who truly understood him. For the first time in his life, he said the words, “I love you” to someone other than a relative. Lupe asked him to prove it. Gwubô’s suffered from an intense fear of sexual intercourse and she shared his phobia as well. For the first time in his life, he attempted to have sex.

They both saw the natural human body as filthy and imperfect vessel in need of purification and repair. For this reason, they both wore full-body and sex-ready polyurethane body stockings sprayed with disinfectant. Lupe wore a red number and he wore a black suit. They gargled with antiseptic rinse before kissing with a dental dam between their mouths. After they made out, Gwubô covered his mouth with a surgical mask, and she covered hers with a gray silk scarf that decorated the front pocket of his jacket.

With the assistance of latex condom-covered pleasure devices and lubricants, they penetrated each other in the most sanitary manner and pleasurable manner possible. Finally, the doctor screwed up enough courage to enter her on his own. He added a layer of protection to his already covered member. She grinned as he entered her. Because of the desensitization caused by the protection, they were able to make love for three hours.

A hint of irrationality caught the doctor by surprise, as pangs of hunger and thirst afflicted them both. “Come in my mouth. I want to taste you.” He was afraid of her lips touching him. She reassured him that she did not want to touch him. “I can drink it from a glass if that makes you feel safer.” He sighed with relief and obliged her by taking off his protective outfit.

Lupe liked what she saw outside of the business suit and the body condom. Gwubô was rather light in frame, but it was obvious that he worked out. His body was as smooth and tempting as hers was. Lupe needed to touch him. Gwubô’s skin tingled as her nitrile exam gloves ran down his back. Her voice almost sounded taunting. “Did you use electrolysis, laser or wax?”

“I got a wax job for first time last week.” Droplets of sweat formed on his forehead as he tried to concentrate on his goal and the conversation at the same time. “I enjoy being smooth and clean.” Lupe poured a bit of lubricant on her gloves when the doctor asked, “You don’t think it looks ridiculous do you?” She said nothing and grabbed his erection. He closed his eyes as she stroked his bare skin. He imagined how her unprotected insides would feel against him. The prospect was terrifying, but the thought was tantalizing.

He discharged his fluids into a specimen cup when she whispered, “I wish you could do that to my vagina.” Lupe knew exactly what he wanted. She deserved her reward. Gwubô added a non-toxic disinfectant to his semen out of concern for her safety. The anticipation in her eyes was irrepresable. He handed her the plastic cup. She drank the cocktail eagerly. He took a risk and kissed her messy mouth with his lips closed. The two exchanged a loving look and an embrace.

“Someday, I will trust you enough to perform a direct exchange of bodily fluids.” Tears welled up in Lupe’s eyes as Gwubô confessed his affection for her. “When I reach that point, I promise to marry you and provide you with anything that might you need.”

“I deem this proposal as acceptable.” Lupe’s Spanish-speaking voice was as sincere as the moment they met. “I will not charge you for any future sessions, if you agree to pay the house fee. Your compatibility is payment enough.” She was the genuine article, an ideal match. “It is my hope that someday, we will produce offspring and continue the legacy of our genetic coding.”

He felt the same way, but he assured Lupe that she deserved payment, regardless. She smiled. The doctor wished to book another session with her. She gave him her full year’s schedule and he reserved many convenient meeting times. They rubbed noses goodbye. Gwubô reluctantly left Taverna Adelina. The dread of returning to his respectable life caused his stomach to ache. Fortunately, he had a wonderful memory that would help him deal with reality.

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