Free Diary of a Naked Official by Ouyang Yu Page B

drinking in big gulps as if the beer was mere water. Then he said something that shocked us: If Li Bai were alive today, he would have committed suicide or, even more likely, he would have turned into a suicide bomber by involving a lot of innocent people in his own death, most likely publishers or editors who had rejected him. The conjecture threw us into confusion, not knowing why he had made the remark or on what basis he had done so. As he refused to be drawn out, I turned to talk with X, who filled me in with his good report: having a few poems accepted for publication in a major literary magazine, and counting. I let him talk but couldn’t help noticing that he tried very hard not to ask me a single question about his submissions. But my ears pricked up when I heard him whisper that he’d take me to a ‘nice place’ afterwards. In reply, I told him that I liked the remark about the war and the bodies although a poet from a small country would have great difficulty getting published, even in translation.
    Called Emperor Yang of Sui, the place boasted of more than 100 xiaojie . Where the door opened, Periwinkle, a girl wearing purple, was gently pushed into my arms as soon as she turned up, by a hand from outside, with chuckling words, ‘tso yours’. Although I later called her Peri, I did not do anything in the beginning but sat there passively, letting her perform her duties according to a set of rules in her head, dutifully and methodically. At such moments, I was relaxed enough to wax historical. Whoever named the place must have been ignorant of the significance of the historical personage or deliberately meant it for the emperor was notorious for his corrupt prurience involving minors. My train of thoughts was interrupted when she said: Be careful now as I’m going to do something exciting. I said ‘what?’ She said ‘just look’ as she raised herself up, feet to the sky, all her weight on her hands, before she inched towards my dick, taking it in her mouth as she put her feet against the wall above my head.
    I grew scared watching her head move up and down on my dick, which made its way right up to her throat. As the pleasure intensified, my fear deepened: What if her hands gave way and she collapsed on me, breaking my member? The more I dwelled on it the less I liked the idea, so much so that I called her to stop, saying, as my dick softened, ‘I’m a bit tired’. Perhaps because ofthe risky and risqué act, I was not able to come however hard she worked on me. In the end, I got her to milk my little life juice out with her hand and left it at that.
    9/7
    It seems I write only what happened yesterday, the diary no longer a daily account. We had an argument last night when I refused to ‘serve’ her. She lost her temper and accused me of not loving her any more. What has sex got to do with love, I said. Everything, she said. If I do not love someone, there is no water underneath. That’s interesting, I said: How can the girls do it without love? What did you mean? she said. Nothing, I said. Do you visit them? she said. Yes, I do, I said. No, you don’t, she refused to believe it. We kept going at it, seeing and sawing, until she said: But I like you to mouth me from below because it gives me such pleasure. I don’t even have an erection, I said. But we haven’t had it for two weeks, she said, how come? I am just tired, I said.
    â€˜No,’ she screamed, all of a sudden, and began furiously masturbating herself, with one hand, and pulling my head towards her with another, in a very violent way; there are scratch marks on the back of my left ear. Eventually, Igave in, not to her temptation, but to her pressure: Her dad has agreed to finance our trip to Australia.
    I have a suspicion that my liver does not function properly. I feel tired easily. When I fuck with these girls, I feel I am the fuckee and they are the fuckers, enjoying