Free Beijing Comrades by Scott E. Myers Page A

a rejected lover. Somehow, inexplicably, he was reluctant to take it. My temples throbbed in irritation. What the fuck is wrong with this guy?
    The drummer’s name was Huang Jian. He was only okay looking, but he was great in bed and we had fantastic sex. He was more than a little willing to cozy up to me—so willing, in fact, that he agreed to my altogether unreasonable demand that he get, not just an STD screening, but a complete physical before I slept with him.
    The thing about Huang Jian was that he liked to put on a little makeup before sex. I don’t know why, it was just this thing he was into. He especially liked purple eye shadow, which he would apply with great care while gazing at his reflection in the mirror. I myself wasn’t so keen on the whole thing. After all, I liked men because of their masculinity and women because of their femininity. Somehow, though, Huang Jian managed to pull it off in a way that didn’t entirely disgustme, and besides, he liked having sex with the lights dimmed so I couldn’t really see it anyway.
    Huang Jian had two personalities, and sex with him always proceeded in one of two directions. When he wanted to be my dirty little whore, he would sit at the foot of the bed and gaze at me with a teasing, slutty look. Then he would crawl toward me on his hands and knees until reaching his target—my cock—which he would tease with his tongue before moving downward to lick my balls. His tongue was so tender, like a thousand ripples of water gently massaging me. Meticulous and considerate, he would roll my nuts around in his mouth, taking great pains to ensure his teeth didn’t get in the way. Finally, he would dive back onto my cock, swallowing the entire thick length all at once. He was a very patient cocksucker, extremely focused on his work, and never tiring or, worse, complaining. I had to push him off of me periodically to keep from coming too soon.
    When Huang Jian was in his other mood he was like a man possessed. Full of aggressive energy, he would rapidly change positions while sweating bullets and yelling out obscenities. I would kiss his body all over sometimes, but rarely gave him head and never let him fuck me. I had always refused to be penetrated; my stubborn nonreciprocity disappointed no small number of my lovers. Huang Jian didn’t mind, though: he was truly submissive and loved serving men. When I fucked him, it was always with him on his knees, ass perched up high, begging me to pound him harder and harder as he reached back to grab my forearm and pull me in deeper.
    Huang Jian conjured up from within me a powerful urge to conquer. It was only after meeting him that I realized just how easy it is to dominate a woman. Dominating men is much harder, and only some of us can do it right. I can’t deny that when he climaxed, it left me with a strong feeling of triumph.
    Early one morning, I woke up feeling unusually groggy. There was Huang Jian, hovering over me and giggling at the red streaks he’d left all over my body the night before. That was one of his favorite things to do: put on heavy red lipstick, then kiss me from head to toe.
    â€œYou’re fuckin’ twisted,” I said with a yawn.
    He nuzzled into my chest like a spoiled child.
    â€œYou fuck me so great!” he said. “I’m not kidding—the more you fuck me, the better my drumming gets. Sometimes I think sex is the only thing that helps musicians get better.”
    â€œThat’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” I mumbled, still half-asleep.
    Huang Jian and I joked around for a while, then he took a shower and headed home.
    It was the end of April and I had wanted to call Lan Yu for some time. With Huang Jian out of the apartment I couldn’t resist the temptation any longer. I picked up the phone and called Lan Yu’s dorm building. I had been encouraging him to let me get him a cell phone or at least a pager, but