The Fierty Dragon Ch 02

The Fiery Dragon Ch 02

David and Phillip begin to have some fun

This is a chapter in a longer story which starts in China, about fifty years ago, at the beginning of the first interactions among Americans and Chinese on their territory. All characters, including the entertainment boys at The Fiery Dragon, are over 18. © Brunosden, All Rights Reserved.

Setting: David Lee, an American graduate student and a rising nuclear engineer, considered a genius in the field, is spending the summer of 1980 as an assistant guide to pre-packaged tours of China, purchased by Americans. He had had a chance to spend the summer in Chicago continuing his work, but he was desperate for a change before the final PhD push. Five tours in all—with the first three being described in Ch 01. David is a child genius, completing a very difficult high school at 15 and the University of Michigan at 19. David is a total Sinophile (a lover of all things Chinese). But, he is a social misfit and hungry for some adventure—of the sexual kind if possible.

Phillip Tang is the chief guide, a twenty-something son of a privileged Chinese family, probably with connections and positions in the ruling party or the Red Guard. At the end of Ch 01, Phillip had taken David to a secret Chinese "club"—which catered to the sexual appetites of wealthy and powerful men of "both persuasions." This chapter picks up at the end of the evening when Phillip has David in a situation where loss of virginity is a given. It was probably a unique place, as homosexual acts were capital offenses in China at the time.

In this, the second chapter, Phillip and David have just begun to "enjoy" their private time at The Fiery Dragon.

The story continues in David's voice.....

He motioned me to the mat as he began stripping himself. He too was rigid, but my dick by then was more than twice his size—in length and girth. He pushed me down on my knees and motioned me to take his cock in my mouth. His hands went behind my head and pulled me in. I bent in, was careful not to use teeth, sucked and used my tongue to lick his pre-cum. He hardened and leaked a little—my first taste of a man. It tasted strange and exotic, but not bad. I wondered if there was a unique Chinese cum-taste. I was beginning to enjoy the experience, sucking, taking him almost entirely in, using my tongue to massage the sensitive cut head. I was sucking my first cock and like it.

"Enough David. I don't want to cum yet."

He pushed me back, sat before me on the mat and insinuated his legs under mine, pulling me into his lap, until our chests were nearly touching and our cocks were together—right under the beam of the overhead light. He grabbed both our cocks in his hands. "Ah, by the God Lin-tzu, you are gifted. He must have created this for himself alone. I am so pleased he has lent you to me to prepare you for your initiation into his cult of lovers. You are going to be a favorite!"

He frotted our dicks together for a few minutes—if you could even call it frotting. It was like a topless Virginia Slim was trying to make out with a big fat hooded Cuban Montecristo! The only thing they had in common was the heat! I guess he realized it too. It was almost ridiculous. And while he wanted the rep of taking a giant-dicked American, he was not anxious to show up as a size loser among his friends who were probably watching. I had the feeling he was very proud of his endowment—at least until he saw mine. Now, taking someone my size was going to enhance his rep. So his second act was a short one.

He pushed me back on the mat, stood, grabbed my calves and lifted, rolling me back so my ass was high off the floor and my anus was almost pointing straight up, totally exposed. My cock hung so low in that position that I could reach out with the tongue and lick the head—assuming that I had wanted to. He pulled my cheeks apart and rolled a lubed finger around the rim. No one, not even myself, had ever touched that spot of my anatomy. I nearly climaxed at that very moment from anticipation. He suddenly shot a lubed index finger into my hole. I moaned, but was not really in pain. It was just the surprise. But he didn't stop. Soon he had penetrated to the second digit, added a second, and was swirling around like he was stirring egg-drop soup. And the results of his efforts were dripping from my cockhead to my face. My precum did taste different from his, and there was much more of it.

He positioned his cockhead at the entrance and abruptly dropped onto my ass. His cockhead hit the barrier ring. But he rammed right through. Fuck, it hurt. And burned. And hurt more. He had prepped and taken me so quickly that I was totally surprised. He froze, waiting for something. I wasn't sure what. Then, the pain faded. I think he measured that fact on my face. So he withdrew and plunged again. More pain, which also faded. Then he pushed again and hit something harder. I saw stars that didn't exist in the slatted wood ceiling. Then, I felt the flash of intense pleasure. Fuck! That's good. "There. Stay there Phillip. Right there." He smiled, and using his hips he moved his dick around inside poking and stroking. I couldn't believe how good it felt. He was nearly standing, naked chest towering over me. His cock massaging my love nut was perfect. Every stroke sent lightning strikes throughout my nervous system. If this was man on man sex, I was definitely on board. Fuck. What have I been missing? And then again. Over and over, as my own dick swelled and darkened. I was in love with the man who had first opened me to the world.

He bottomed. He paused again. Then began to pound. Up and down; he bent his knees, achieving depth, nearly pulling out, then slamming in again. All the while keeping pressure on that bundle of nerves, sending shock waves throughout. He was in total control of my pleasure, and I wanted more, much more.

I felt a drop on my lips. Then another. Fuck. My hood had rolled way back exposing a dark purple bulb, the size of a tree-ripened plum. The head was leaking and dripping my own precum on my lips. Salty. A little ammonia. Then musky and sweet. Each time he dropped into my chute, he pushed out another dollop of my stuff, stuff that I had never tasted before. Each touched my lips and was quickly licked inside. Finally, he plunged deep, grabbed my calves, pushed them forward, and fell into my chest taking total control of my body—and my ass. A few more deep strokes. He stiffened and strained to achieve maximum penetration while his almost black eyes stared into my darkening face. He was smiling—the look of conquest, not love. But, at the time, I didn't know the difference.

And then another first. I felt it deep in my gut. An orgasm building like at the base of a volcano deep in the hot tubes under the surface. I could almost visualize the swelling bubble on the surface of the molten lava inside by bulging balls. Much stronger than any I had produced with masturbation. It rose inside me, consuming me. Then it exploded, deep inside. The lava flowed from my balls up to the root and down the long shaft hanging over me--until it shot onto my face. Three, four times. Covering my face totally with my own cum. The taste was different. This sweeter, almost like honey cream. And so was the consistency—the cum was creamy and gooey.

Phillip shouted a string of Chinese words, not in any dictionary I had seen, stiffened and filled me with his spunk. Fuck, he had fucked me! Cum inside. Seeded me. Bareback! And he had fucked the cum out of me. My first was a total body experience—and he had not touched my cock. I had to admit. It felt really good. Somehow I was feeling used. But awfully good nevertheless.

Then I heard the applause. Two young guys were at the window watching. He stroked a few more times. Then bent down, used a few fingers to feed me my own cum, and then licked some of the cum from my face. Phillip rose and pulled out of my ass. His dick was still rigid and dripping cum. In that aroused state he was the most beautiful man I had ever seen in my life. He bowed to the audience. Then he pulled me to my feet, pushed me forward, still almost totally erect and also dripping in cum. He stood behind me, used hands, both of them to fist my dick, holding the hood back. He stroked it a few times, pushing the final drops of my cum from the tip, demonstrating his total possession. The applause again. Much louder. I guessed that I might be invited back.

Throughout the encounter, except for the Chinese outburst when he came, Phillip had not said a word. So it was up to me to decide what was going on. First, of course, I knew I had gone with him to The Fiery Dragon because I wanted to and was enjoying his company. Not because he had threatened me if I didn't—although I think there was a hint of a threat. Then he had seduced and fucked me. (Or had I agreed, wanting to experience everything about China—including its virile young new generation?) At any rate, I was no longer a virgin. It was in public—and he was clearly anxious to show his friends that he had just fucked a giant-dicked American. Ahha! That's it. He's showing off for his friends. And I'm the butt of his joke, so to speak.

But, I guess it wasn't so bad. In fact, I think I sort of liked it. Maybe I'd let him do it again. No not, maybe. Definitely. I really like it. I wanted more, much more. He was obviously an experienced and careful lover of men. His unrelentless attack at the beginning had quickly morphed to a careful and extended stimulation—resulting in a terrific orgasm, the best that I'd ever experienced.

There was no question that he had seduced me. Maybe even coerced me. That immediately raised my hackles. I could have refused. But now I'm glad I didn't. I needed that push. And so I continued to argue with myself. Yes, I liked being the recipient of his seduction. He was the first to have understood my sexual needs. And he had filled them. I became a man that night—the first night of what would become many.

Then my thoughts turned quickly 180 degrees—a testament to my social and emotional immaturity. But, I'm an American, and Chinese don't fuck with Americans. I think next time, I may even try to turn the tables. He was going to feel my cock—my Fiery Dragon--deep inside. He was going to be taught a lesson. The scion of a Chinese plutocrat was not going to fuck around with an American—as good as that had been. I was going to be doing the fucking. I'm guessing I'll understand those new Chinese words by then. And maybe we'd have an audience next time as well.

And so I left Room 3 satisfied, but conflicted. I loved what we had done. I had given up my cherry and joined the ranks of experienced man lovers. But, as a macho young American boy, I was not sure about the next step.

We dressed and went back out to the lounge where a fresh set of beers were set on the table before us. All eyes were on us—or maybe on me. Several guys came over, bowed, and using two hands, handed me their cards, with their phone numbers circled in red marker.

I enjoyed the attention, and apparently so did Phil. His esteem among his friends had increased dramatically. And of course, that is exactly what he had planned. Hopefully, I thought, not something more nefarious.

I decided to remain silent about the event even though we stayed for another hour or so. We even watched another tableau. We talked a little about our lives, but avoided reference to our recent experience. Then we walked back to the hotel to get ready for the next group of tourists arriving tomorrow.

By he time we reached the hotel, I was thoroughly confused. I wanted more and I was ready for it. But, I didn't want to seem an immature American teenager who had just discovered sex.

As we entered the room, he held his hand out. I knew what he wanted. So I dipped into my pocket and gave him the cards, which he carefully placed in his leather case. I guess he was telling me that I was his property.

As we prepared for bed, I think he had a premonition of my plans. Always before he had teased me with nudity before hopping under the covers. This time, he kept his shorts on! He had seen the monster that I carried, fully erect and in action. And he was afraid that I might try to jump him. (I realized later that this idea was clearly adolescent. Phillip wasn't afraid of me—or anyone. He knew he had me under control.) Well, I thought idly—and naively, let him stew for awhile. I'm definitely going to have some fun before our time in China is up.

And his cave is going to be home for my fiery dragon before we part at the end of the summer.

******

We prepared to meet our fourth cohort of tourists at the Shanghai International Airport. This, however, was a very different group. The first three had been composed of couples mostly in their 50s and 60s—although several younger adult children were in one group. This tour, however, was a college-sponsored trip of college seniors and young graduate students majoring in East Asian Studies. Twelve young men and four young women. None were attached, or at least none of them declared themselves attached.... yet.

What a pleasant surprise! Phillip had warned me that our next tour group was different—and likely to be a real challenge for both of us. Always before, except for one very unpleasant deviation, our tourists had done what they were told, had not asked any embarrassing questions, had not wandered off—and generally were docile folks, fearful of running afoul of the unknown requirements of a regime known to be unpredictable and perhaps repressive.

They were all our age or younger! Loud and confident Americans. Not at all worn-out by the long flight. Excited and anxious. Tatted and wearing tees with various logos—some downright pornographic. Fully capable of handling their own minimal luggage. Some speaking a little Mandarin. Several were really attractive. Probably all confident that they already "knew" China. They were here to prove their pre-conceptions, see the sights, and maybe have a little fun. (We learned later that four of the guys had wagered over which of them would get to bed a Chinese woman first during the trip. And that two of the guys were indeed attached—to each other. One of them later expressed some interest in me—but Phillip carefully sidetracked him)

We headed for the bus. Phillip did his introduction—with the requisite warnings about staying with the group, not wandering off, proper "modest" dress at all times, no self-explorations etc., etc. They were hearing none of it. Perhaps having none of it. There wasn't much I could do at the time. They weren't in that world. I guess they'd have to learn for themselves that they "weren't in Kansas, anymore, Toto."

(Note: It is difficult to remember this situation. Young American tourists in the 80s were naïve, not afraid to look down their noses at different foreign ways of doing things. And, in 1980, cell phones were just being introduced—they were heavy, with unreliable reception and without photographic capability. None of our tourists had a cell phone. Also at that time, music players were just coming into use—and they required cassettes or CDs. Ubiquitous MP3 players with the ability to store music or retrieve it from a cloud were still several years away. So we didn't need to worry about picture-taking or guests tuning out our explanations or lectures with music. All film was confiscated and reviewed at the end of the tour, with only non-sensitive photos remaining when returned to the owner. Thus, when one was in China, a veil of isolation descended. This, I think contributed to the mystery and exoticism experienced by the early Chinese tourists. And our strict itinerary and periodic warnings emphasized this point to Americans accustomed to doing what they wanted where they wanted.)

There was already an issue when we arrived at the hotel. All the rooms had been pre-assigned. A few had twins, but most were only equipped with one bed, and the hotel had ever heard of a king. There were complaints from several of the more macho guys—who protested that they wouldn't sleep in the same bed as another guy. Two guys "volunteered" to accept one of the single bedded rooms. And, curiously no complaints came from the girls. But, there was nothing we could do about the rest. They could shuffle rooms among themselves, I guess—or sleep on the floor. But, we didn't want to be involved.

We had about three hours after arrival before dinner. Previously, our "guests" had been anxious to take a nap during the time immediately after a long trip. Not this group. They wanted to know whether they were "confined to quarters" or could walk outside around the hotel. I left that one to Phillip—who grudgingly found some maps and warned about walking into certain restricted zones of the city—marked in yellow on the maps.

Throughout the entire reception process, Phillip's normally smiling and gracious matter was strained. I could see the tension. And perhaps the first inkling that he wasn't in charge as he had been before. I could tell. His answers were short. There were no jokes. He had obviously concluded he had a tough group on his hands—a group that, if not handled well, could ruin his spotless reputation with his father and the Party. (I assumed his father was unaware that he visited the gay side of the Fiery Dragon Club, a practice that would certainly be disqualifying for most.) As they scattered to rooms, he whispered to me. "Do you think we should accompany them? I'm not sure I trust them yet."

"I think I understand this attitude. If we try to constrain their behavior, curiosity will force them to take chances. These are serious students, but they are also privileged Americans, accustomed to mostly getting what they want. You've warned them—and given them a map. Let's plan a few extra activities for each of the next few time periods—so they have less free time to get into trouble. But, I think we need to give them some latitude—that is, if it doesn't violate your instructions."

"As you say, then. Let's head upstairs. I need to work off some tense energy. Are you with me?" He tried to wink mysteriously, but failed miserably. I knew exactly what he had in mind.

I noted that he didn't pick up on my comment about instructions. But, I liked Phillip. And if he wanted to play—this time in private, I was certainly game. We had had only one very public encounter when he had taken my anal virginity. But, I had really enjoyed it. And was definitely ready to try for more. We'd talk about his secret instructions later.

So we headed to the room. As we entered, he duplicated the moves that he had used successfully in Room 3. He let me go in first. Then he stepped up behind me. His hands were immediately under my shirt stroking my chest, pinching my nibs, pulling me into his hard body—and dick. He already knew my sensitive erogenous zone and how to work it. Attempting to arouse me and dominate. I reveled in the stimulation for a minute. Maybe more. I was quickly softening (and hardening) enough to be his bottom again. But, this time something clicked inside me. I was ready. I turned abruptly and started to unbutton his tight uniform shirt. His hands dropped to my belt, and, as I finished unbuttoning, mine dropped to his. I was signaling that I wasn't his toy this time. I was in this for the ride, but it was going to be a two-seater.

I pushed his shirt off as our khakis fell to the floor. Then I looked into his face and drew our lips together with a hand behind his neck. At first, he recoiled from the kiss. But I held him tight and soon his lips opened. Our chests ground together. Soon our tongues were dueling as our rigid cocks clashed together and my hand began the exploration of his cleft. I couldn't believe my boldness—but it seemed natural and right. Once again he was commando, but mine was still inside my tighty whities, tenting them obscenely. I pushed him toward the bed until he fell onto it as the back of his knees hit the mattress. He seemed a little shocked at my aggression. He started to protest, but only got out a surprised word of resignation. Then, quickly, before he could do anything more, I pulled off his shoes, socks and the trousers that had wound around his ankles. I stood back, slipped my briefs down and pulled everything off in one swipe. Then, I flashed my erect fiery dragon at him. His eyes went really wide at the size.