Diary of a Naked Official (14 page)

I let her carry on, putting a few blocks of ice in the same glass and wrapping me up again in her mouth, now icy. After that my member cooled down, becoming numb. I watched how she moved her head up and down, mechanically, tongue-tied, as I played with the dyed and
gelled hair on the back of her head until she finished the icy action and proceeded to wrap my right foot in a plastic bath cap that she had rung to ask for. It was not till she accentuated my big toe by separating it from the rest of my foot that I realized what she was doing: She's going to sit on it to let me toe-fuck her! Sure enough, that was exactly what she did. Even as I am writing this my big toe still carries that feeling of cunt but I must confess that there was no pleasure; it was but another link in the chain of actions that she was professionally required to perform on me.

When it was my turn to fuck her I went half-mast. Wearing a condom made my member wooden, numb; not even the thought of my fucking a 16-year-old was sufficient to work wonders. I got her to remove the condom and suck me till I stood to attention but, as soon as she capped me with a fresh condom, I went limp again and could not find the entry point despite her multiple attempts to straighten it up. I thought: Bloody hell, and said: Just do it by hand, as I eased myself back to bed, my head inching back over the pillow.

As my body tensed and twisted under her performing hand, my mind was electrified with the images of two women, one much younger than the other, both standing naked and making up in front of their separate mirrors. I
watched how the younger woman putting lipstick to her lips and how the older woman decorating her eyes with fake long eyelashes. I imagined putting my right finger into the older woman's hole as my left finger slipped into the younger woman's without resistance before they turned back and crept over me, letting my member enter into the younger woman, condomless, while my tongue shot inside the older woman's cunt. There, I was thrilled to notice that she had put lipstick around her
yin
lips or vulval lips. In that double coupling position with the imaginary mother and her daughter, I reached an orgasm never experienced before, with the aid of the third hand, that of the 16-year-old.

As it turned out, the girl was an ethnic Mongolian but I had nothing more to say to her as we had nothing in common except sex, which took no time to finish.

After we paid, C and I went back to his car. On our way back to the city he told me that he was less and less interested in a good-looking face. Instead, he was more interested in a good-looking cunt. A revelation, I thought, that could be communicated only between men. He went on to say that a decade or so ago he had done girls as young as 13, obviously one year below what the law allowed, which was why it was dangerous as one could receive heavy imprisonment if one got caught but that is exactly where the excitement lay, according
to him. Admittedly, the girl had no knowledge of what sexual intercourse was about and lay there for the man to manipulate her whichever way he preferred but it soon turned out that she had the most perfect anatomical organ one had ever laid one's eyes on. ‘Most good-looking,' in his words.

Seeing that I fell into silence, C sought to enliven the atmosphere by relating a
huangduanzi
, an obscene tale, of a mother, with her son, visiting her husband working in a city far away from her village. At night, when the two were hot at it, their son was woken up and wondered aloud what they were doing. To cover her embarrassment, the mother said: Oh, Dad is adding oil, refuelling. The little boy, surprised, said: You are consuming so much oil! Didn't the village head add oil to you only a few nights ago?

I had a feeling that he's probably exaggerating his prowess, like Sam used to, things like he chucked it three or four times in one visit. That sort of thing. If he really did what he said he had done, he wouldn't be here today with me; he'd be in jail. However, one thing he said does make a lot of sense. According to him, ours is the unprecedented Great Proletarian Sexual Revolution, as compared with the Mao-initiated Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution when no one fucked anyone else and when fucking was for the sole purpose
of procreation till the nation was bursting with an explosive population living in growing poverty. Now, in this GPSR, where everyone fucks everyone else who fucks everyone else ad infinitum, no one feels happy if he or she goes for days without the act although we remain labourers, not the Great Northern Wildness type, like Gulag, but the new-age Dongguan type where you constantly engage in the act of kissing, necking, coupling, shooting and cleaning up the post-love mess, your bodies bent into each other in a tireless sequence of non-procreative gestures that keep plunging you into a pleasurizing hell of your own making till you are done. If in the past you brandished a hoe and hoed the field, you now brandish a dick-hoe and dick-hoe the field of female bodies where nothing grows except instant sensations of pleasure. That makes all the difference.

The night ended with a pastiche he did on a poem by Li Bai, titled, ‘Thoughts on a Still Night', which I know to be:

Bright moonlight in my bed

like frost on the floor

I raise my head to look at the moon

and, lowering my head, I miss my home

that he's violated as:

Bright moonlight in my bed

Two pairs of shoes on the floor

A pair, of dog man and dog woman

Lay naked in bed

14/8

On my way back, L dropped me off at a hotel, called Swans Flying South, where I had my best sex in weeks. The conversation with the girl went something like this, as I now recall:

G: Would you like to do it first?

I: (a pause) Yes.

G: You want to clean up in a shower or a bathtub?

I: Umh, bathtub.

G: (as she turns on the tap) Is this temperature okay?

I: (holding out a hand to test it as the water comes spurting out) That's fine.

I: Where are you from?

G: Gucheng.

I: Oh, I see.

I: Didn't finish junior middle school?

G: No.

I: Been here a long time?

G: Just a month.

I: Not straight from Shayan then?

G: No. From Huzhou.

I: A pretty place, no?

G: Not really, not as pretty as one reads or hears about it. The water is no good. The temperature okay now?

I: Okay. So you worked in a factory there?

G: Yes.

I: Did they pay you well?

G: No.

I: How much?

G: Well, a couple of thousand
kuai
a month.

I: So you came here.

G: Right.

I: Like the job?

G: No.

I: Did they train you?

G: I didn't like it at first, particularly this
chui
, blowing.

I: But you
chui
ed well just now.

G: Took me a long time to get used to it.

I: Why did you offer
shuangfei
, double-flying as soon as you came in?

G: It's my sister you know.

I: Do you mean you were trying to help her so that she could also come in for a share in this?

G: Something like that.

I: I see. How much would that be?

G: Our group is worth 600 each, the next group, 800, and the highest group, 1200.

I: But I thought the 1200 group of girls the ugliest and the 600 the best-looking.

G: But they are worth a lot and they don't even pay the maintenance cost.

I: What's that?

G: We in the lowest group have to pay the cost of monthly medical checkups, of garments like this – if I wear this home my dad will break my leg – and a lot of other little things, such as condoms, this tearable pair of stockings and this fake penis.

I: Do you have a boyfriend?

G: No. Why?

I: You don't want to keep one?

G: No. If he works, he is supposed to keep me. Otherwise, I'll have to keep him but that's too hard. No, I don't have one and at the moment I share accommodation with a few other girls.

I: Did you say you wouldn't be here long and you'd go back in a few months?

G: That's right.

I: What if I come back and see you again?

G: I don't know. There are always other girls for the taking.

I: Wouldn't you wish to have someone rich keep you as a – a lover?

G: It's not like in the old days any more, when the rich would come here to pick up their 2nd tits or 3rd and
baoyang
, keep, them. Nowadays, the rich seem too happy with their marriages to want to break them; instead, they'll come here for momentary relief, pay up and go home.

I: Which means you don't want me to want you.

G: (silence)

I: What if your client is not happy with you?

G: They'll complain and we'll get a hefty fine.

I: Hefty? How much do you have to pay?

G: 3000 yuan.

I: Is that right? I'll lodge a complaint against you for not providing me good enough services then.

G: Ha, ha, ha. That's funny.

I: I won't. That much I can promise; I was just joking.

G: I know.

I: You have brothers and sisters at home?

G: One sister.

I: And parents?

G: Both at home, doing nothing, nothing to do, my dad is hospitalized.

I: What condition?

G: Bowel problems.

I: You send money back to support them?

G: That's right. The hospital and my sister's tuition fees. A lot of money to go their way.

I: But you could make hundreds of thousands of yuan in a short time.

G: Not me but the girls in the 1200-yuan group. You didn't hear how much they made at
Tianshang Renjian
, Heaven on Earth? For one night, you'd have to pay a girl 10,000!

I: It's shut down, I heard.

G: I know.

I: Would there be anyone willing to pay that high price?

G: Why not? There were so many men so rich; they'd be willing to pay anything and everything just to bonk the high girls.

I: High girls? You mean high-class girls?

G: Yeh, whatever.

I: But if you go back, you won't make money. What are you planning to do then?

G: I'm going to
xiangqin
, meeting a potential partner.

I: Someone rich and older than you?

G: No. It's not going to work because we won't have much in common. I'd rather go for someone about my own age. Just easier.

The conversation went on and off, between lovemaking
sessions and her multiple services, involving blowing, sucking, back-licking, tearing a stocking at the crotch, masturbating with a dildo by my hand while moving up and down on my dick. When I asked which was better, doing it with a dildo or a dick, she said: Of course the latter, because it was more
meng
, powerful.

Meng
, powerful, was the word she kept using a few times when I got on top of her right in the middle of the bed, the way I fucked my dead woman many years ago, until I came when she uttered a small cry of pleasure and both of us opened our eyes to see a tiny plastic bag loaded with my useless semen come out of her cunt. Her mouth, skyward, I now recall, was a gaping hole of ugly darkness as I tried to separate her clinging legs and pushed harder, into another woman, my dear dead one. As I became delirious with ejaculation, I thought J Ro had come alive under me, wriggling and twisting this way and that, pushing herself against me as if she were a male and I, a female, till we became seamless, life and death coupled, commingled and connived.

It was not till, at the time of finishing it, when she removed her high-heels, that I noticed the bulgy bit of her big toe on her left foot, something called hallux valgus that only a 40-year-old and above is seen to have, rare on a 19-year-old. Asked what the matter was, she said: Nothing. I grew up like that, with that.

If I had made the discovery earlier, I thought, I might have gone limp.

15/8

It looks as if we were going to exhaust it, the desire for sex, the sexual desire, till our organs are wrung out of their last drop of sperm, till we, perhaps, no longer want to have anything to do with it anymore, secularized unto tedium, completely desexed, unable to ‘recover from the delirium the next morning', as she put it, like the little one in the novel who opts for having his root removed at one stroke, for the mere purpose of being allowed entry into the emperor's palace filled with imperial concubines without running the risk of being caught copulating with them, with a knife so sharp a hair is cut in two if you blow it against its blade, as described in the novel featuring Emperor Yang of Sui.

With my wife and daughter far away in Sydney, I now have more time with my friends. Whenever we are together, our conversation, as if by gravity, naturally slides to the topic of love and sex. After that session with the girl with the hallux valgus, as L drove me back, he revealed to me that love was now only obtainable from
qingren
, a mistress, someone married who craves extra-marital
affairs. According to him, this kind of love is the best possible as the wife, cocooned in the prison of a marriage, becomes callous, serving love like a meal with no spice, and the
xiaojie
, working-girl, providing the service or services like a cleaner who sweeps desires off your innards for a fee, the way a fish is disembowelled. Only someone who once had a fling with you and still hankers after you will come back to you from time to time, not for money, not for any material gain, but purely for love, a love that leads to wonderful sex. He remembered with fondness how he made love to a woman he loved when she was set all atremble with passion.

Likewise, I told him my own story, of how this girl who came to apply for the job commanded my attention by making all sorts of advances, taking me out to dinner, offering me flowers first thing in the morning and giving me presents, things that a man would have done in the past when he chased a woman. Eventually, one night, after she closed the door behind her in my hotel room, she threw herself into my arms despite my attempts to push her off. I was so overpowered with her perfume and body odour faintly emitting underneath that I lost my head and went to bed with her, knowing at heart that it wasn't the right thing to do.