When we met it took a little while to warm up, and I felt a little bored; but we drank our coffee, got comfortable with each other again, and then went to do some filming around town (a film of my everyday life for my people back home), and then to book a hotel. That took a while – the Tian Ping hotel again wanted to rook me 880 for a room, and the Boxueyuan, where we fucked before, only had a triple. I had a look at another nearby one I knew of, further down Guanyuan Road West, with some misgiving (it being pricey and me impecunious at that time), and felt as much relief as irritation that it was ‘full’ too (though I got the impression it was only ‘full’ because I was a foreigner and saying so was simply the easiest way of dealing with me). I couldn’t find any other hotels nearby, and Lucy’s feet, got-up in heels to match her carefully chosen clothes, were hurting her. So we made do with the Boxueyuan, a hotel which part belongs to
I wanted to undress her; she did not want me to. And I got a bit shirty at that – and that was wrong of me, childish and pompous. I should have read her body language better. It was not modesty that lay behind it, but fear. I’d waved her away and said `Go and change in the bathroom, then’ and she explained that when she was younger… Yes, I should have guessed... It is, after all, a wretchedly common story; she, the young girl – 8 or 10 at the time – and the guy, bigger, stronger. This guy was an uncle with whom she had been sent to live by her too-busy don’t-give-a-fuck parents. Earlier she had already told me she did not like him. Now I found out why. But I did not ask too much about this incident, for I did not want to bring up those memories too fresh – did not, in short, to ruin my own evening.
And in fact this squall soon passed. Once she’d talked a little about it, how he took her clothes off and caressed her, my genuinely caring, worried reaction soothed her, and the fear was charmed away; and then I did undress her and we got down to it. Kissed and caressed and it was good – but not as passionate as it had been with Mona. I wanted to eat her but, unwashed, she was uneasy with it. I moved to enter her and it was a little painful for her, so I got the lube I’d brought the day before, and that worked like a charm, and she smiled wide and fascinated as I, thus smeared, glided into her. We fucked, this position and that, picking up tempo, half an hour or so, and then she wanted a break, a shower. We washed each other then dallied some more, she reading out sections of the course book I had with me, trying to pronounce the German words, translating the parallel Chinese into English with pleasure and some self-congratulation at the fluency of her translation. It was quite charming really, since she giggled and bounced like an excited child.
Then back to sex, and she began by blowing me. Did it quite well, too, sexy, passionate – but again not as hot or maddening as Mona. But I’d brought my DV, and filmed her a little as she worked me, and then later as I worked her – promising, naturally, to erase it later. And so I have done – after copying it to my laptop, of course. Well, and so we fucked a goodly while, me placing her this way and that, missionary, her on top facing both ways, and behind, and on her side, back, belly, in my arms (that was a bit harder than with Mona, as she’s a heavier woman – Mona, slender and light is as lithe and flexible in bed as could be desired); and she got into it as before, especially when I came at her doggy. As she had been more chatty in the restaurant, so she was more talkative after we had done, but this time I enjoyed it much more. She told me each time we met she learned new things – and what man does not like to hear that? And then she told me that she had talked about me with her male friends online, and told them such detail as the size of me, positions, duration; much of which, she told me, they were incredulous about. More music to my ears, naturally. So too was what they had told her, how they could last 30 minutes at the utmost, and more generally just ten; and how a Chinese guy married a few years was mechanical. His wife would lie in bed, the cover thrown back; he would just climb on top, thrusting, coming and then going to sleep; and the size, the size – or lack of it! And she told me how she had described my size, how she had told them that, when holding her fingers round -- `What.. what’s the word for it?’ `The girth’ – they could not quite meet (and indeed looking at the film just now, it is so) – and this again they were most skeptical about.