Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Seducing Ellen

Now Ellen was maybe one of the most passionate women I’ve had in all my years here. Ebullient, eager, uninhibited. She’s one of my favorite memories, perhaps my finest fuck.

I taught her some time back, last August or so, a university vacation course at Tongji. There were maybe 50 students in that class, so when she popped up online after the class had wrapped up, I did not really know who she was. But then she sent a few photos of herself, and I remembered her just fine – remembered, indeed, that she had seemed rather bored in class. And since, in those photos, she looked appealing I took the opportunity to steer our conversation into more flirty waters when she mentioned an ex-boyfriend:-


Ellen: um.....seems it happened so long long agooooooooooo

Me: but these memories from when we were young should not be forgotten

Me: and u should never regret the love u felt in the past

Ellen: although we broke up this January (that is, January 2005)

Me: well, it is a good thing to have a few different boyfriends, u know

Ellen: Four years’ relationship.....wow...unbelievable

Ellen: I’m 22years old... still young

Me: gosh, yes... well, so u must have got together when u were 18... that’s quite young in this culture. i admire that

Ellen: no ,i hv my first bf at 16 haha, but when i was 16 i had no idea about that kind of this

Me: of course. no one has any idea the first time

Ellen: but i still had no idea even when we broke up haha (She meant ‘no idea about sex’)

Me: oh... it sounds like he was not a very.... manly... bf!

Ellen: yes. chinese are not as mature as Westerners at that age

Me: mm, i see... how long were u together with this guy?

Ellen: the whole 9th grade, we broke up when we left school

Me: i see..well... did he at least kiss u nicely?

Ellen: haha, we never kissed! (Chinese dating!)

Me: oh, that's so sweet! chinese culture can be so innocent

Me: well... i hope ur last bf was more... satisfying?

Ellen: haha yes, of course

Ellen: but it wasn’t a good relationship, first we broke up, then back together, then broke up, then together! It made me mad

Me: ah, guys can be like that... they are not good at knowing what they want

Ellen: Right, they should know what "no way” means

Me: guys never know where the `no way' mark is

Me: Ellen, this is what men are like

Me: for them, sex is at the center of everything

Ellen: But why did he keep coming back to me when he had another girl? He should make it clear if he still loved me

Me: ah, again, for guys, love and sex are totally different

Me: he might abandon u to chase other women... but if he thinks u will still sleep with him, he will still chase u

Ellen: ummmm...maybe. but we’ve moved on now, so we’re still friends now. in some ways he is still good friend

Me: that is good too. i always feel it is a shame if a couple never keep in touch after they have split up

Ellen: hehe why?

Me: well... u see, if u do not keep in touch, it suggests that ALL the time u spend together was a mistake, that there were no good times at all. that's sad.

Ellen: but it is more easy to hv sex again because you feel so suitable with it, and it’s not easy to find another one in china

Me: yes, that's part of it, too.... but it is also good to find new partners for sex... i know that sounds crude, but i do think it is true. experience is important.

Ellen: experience is important? But i heard that guys always like girl with less experience

Me: i think a lot of traditional guys like that, yes

Me: but there are 2 things to consider here

Me: first of all, the woman has a right to explore her own sexuality. it should not be limited by what guys want her to be, and, two, more modern guys are more cool about this. in my case, for example, i would never marry a virgin. i would want a woman with experience. Guys like me feel a woman with experience is a lot more fun in bed.

Ellen: but in china the traditional guys are the majority

This conversation went on for a couple of hours, and at the end we had arranged to meet for dinner a day or two later.

I was certain she was a sure thing; the flirty responsiveness in her conversation, her openness and inquisitiveness about sexuality convinced me of it. Indeed, so sure was I about it that, the morning before we met, while I was checking out the night’s emule porn download, I had a stroke while looking at her picture too, saying half out loud, ‘Tonight I am going to fuck you.’

So we met and headed for dinner. My first choice, a Hunan style restaurant called Di Shui Dong (滴水洞), had a queue waiting, so I doubled back to another nearby place, Shanghai Moon, just round the corner on Maoming Lu. I’d not chosen it at first primarily because I had planned to take Jojo there the next night and, good as it is, twice in a row is a bit much. Plus it seemed to me Di Shui Dong was more the style for Ellen with its bright, noisy cheerful and down to earth style. Shanghai Moon is more suitable to a slightly older, more sophisticated woman.

She was dressed cute, Shanghainese, a vest-type top, simple enough, but bare on the shoulders and arms, showing the shape of her body. We ate, chatted, flirted with eyes and then words.

She told me some about herself, such as that last night she stayed up all night long singing karaoke with her friends, and about her various part time jobs at a restaurant and a Japanese run firm. She did not much like the latter and, here, I expected the usual ignorant anti-Japan tirade which marks so much of Chinese attitudes to Japan.

But not so – she gave the far more cogent reason that Japanese guys are just weird about women. And this, combined with my acquaintance of Japanese porn, and the crazy and a fascinating story another friend to me about her run in with her Japanese guy, I can believe.

She told me her boss told her she was too fat – a comment which would get him sacked in a better-run country (and a comment wholly untrue) and that they made her dance for them every lunchtime. That was just weird… this, she explained, was because her father accompanied her to the initial job interview, and at that time told her to dance for them; so now she has to do it every lunchtime. That’s just fucked-up, these lecherous Japanese guys making her dance!

And as for her father… Well, in some ways, from what she said about him, he seems quite a reasonable one. Sure, he wants to tell her what to do with her life – in this case, since he is a government official, he thinks she should be one too.

Ellen was not interested in such a job. ‘It’s so boring…’ she said, then reflected a little and added, ‘but it might not be so bad. He has lots of free time.. he goes to lots of places, too.. and often comes home early. In fact he has so much free time he does all the cooking at home – although he doesn’t let his colleagues know that. Whenever I meet them, or they come home, he’s sure to point out how my mum and I do all the housework..’

But even so, he does not try to corral her life, unlike so many Chinese parents. That’s why she had been able to stay out all night singing the night before; and I was glad to hear it, for over-restrictive parents are a key stumbling-point when it comes to taking a girl home for the night.

But, like so many young Chinese women, she is wise many years beyond the men of this society. He gives her this freedom because she handles him so well. ‘When I am with my Dad I pretend to be very shy, I don’t talk much, and I agree with everything he says. So he thinks I am still a little girl…’ she told me. ‘He simply could not imagine my real life, so that’s why he gives me freedom.’

In the restaurant I did not make all the running; she felt me out too, asking when I had first started chasing girls. `Sixteen,’ I lied. `That’s rather late..’ she said, rather to my pleasure. I agreed it was, but explained that I had been to a boys’ school, so girls were hard to come by. And a little later on, perhaps in reference to this, or maybe just out of the blue, she asked, ‘Have you ever done anything gay?’ To show her I was cool with this, I said, ‘Well.. I went to a boys’ school.. and you know what guys are like.. so, yes, a little…’ My next question was crushingly obvious.. ‘And you?

`Yes, a little..’ she said. ‘I’m not a les – lesbian? -- but I do think women’s bodies are beautiful, sexy.’ Naturally, I wanted to hear more details about this. But right then it was too early to ask. I bided my time.

The meal done, both of us were thinking the same thing. What next? I suggested coffee, or maybe a walk in the grounds of the Garden Hotel, for the usual purpose. She accepted. But when we got to the main road, it was virtually impassable with people. This was because of the tourism festival parade, floats, dancers, bands and the like; and she wanted to watch this instead. This put me out a little, for I wanted to get her in the garden, since, as I mentioned below, it is the ideal spot to bring the seduction to the next level.

But we watched the parade some, and then she decided it was too crowded. She looked over at the cinema hoarding nearby.. ‘A film..?’ I suggested. But this was not what I at all wanted, and in any case the crowds were too thick to cross over and check out the listings. ‘We could go for a coffee…’ I said, ‘…or go back to my place and watch a film.’

Have you got films with subtitles?’ she asked. But she was not really saying that; she was saying, ‘Yes, I’ll come home with you.’ She knew it. I knew it.

And so we went back to my place together….



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2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Spring comes and goes; flower blooms and frails When there is a beginning there must be an end. Relationships out of temptation can not escape the inevitability. Surely this leads to feelings of guilty. Dealing with it is rather a complicated pile of a mess. Wondering if you are ever in denial of those feelings!

ChinaBounder's email: said...

With Ellen, not at all; the relationship with her was simply sex for fun. We both knew this, so there was no deceit involved.

But with other women, such as Eve, my full-time girlfriend…. Yes, sure, it is complex and I do feel guilt about it. Mostly, however, I just ignore that guilt. Perhaps that is a form of denial, though I suspect it’s more likely just that I’m a bastard.

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