Date: Mon, 30 Sep 2002 20:30:16 +1000
From: Phil Eden <eden_phil@hotmail.com>
Subject: A China Tale (Adult/Youth)

A China Tale

By Hornblower


This is a true story about an experience I had whilst travelling in northern
China some years ago. We were headed for a remote exploration camp near the
Mongolian border, a journey of several days by four-wheel drive from
Beijing. Fortunately I had a driver and guide, a charming and helpful young
man called Wiu Li , who had recently completed his service in the Red Army.
Thankfully, he knew the region well as it involved travel through remote
countryside where the few road signs to be seen were in Chinese, and none of
the local people spoke even a word of English.

On our first night out from Beijing we found a motel that offered a
reasonable standard of comfort, but as we travelled further north I realised
that such western style amenities simply didn't exist in the countryside. At
dusk on our second night on the road, we appeared to be many miles from any
sign of civilisation, and I asked Li where we would sleep. He assured me
there was no need to worry, and that all would be taken care of. The road
was little more than a narrow dirt track, badly rutted in places, and we
appeared to be climbing towards some distant mountains. The headlights cut a
swathe through the night, sometimes sweeping across the sky as Li manoeuvred
the Land Cruiser skilfully around tight corners from which the road dropped
away into a steep ravine. The plain was now a long way below us, distant
villages dotting the landscape as tiny pinpricks of light. We continued to
climb, the car engine labouring as the hills became steeper, until at last
we arrived at what appeared to be a huge, walled building with a massive
iron gate. The occupants must have heard us coming because two young men,
dressed in orange robes, rushed forward to open the gates for us as we
approached and Li swung the Land Cruiser into a courtyard from which a
flight of wide stone steps led to an imposing pagoda.

Li told me that we had arrived at the monastery of Zhao Ling, and he assured
me that as travellers we would be welcomed, and given beds for the night.
Zhao Ling, he explained, was of the Ming dynasty and this monastery named in
his honour was about five hundred years old, dating from a time when the
Chinese emperor and his forces had chased the Mongol invader Kublai Khan
from the country and had established an era of great peace and stability.

At the top of the steps we were welcomed by an elderly monk, dressed like
the two who had opened the gates for us, in a flowing saffron robe. He
bowed, and then extended his hand which I took in both of mine. He said
something in Chinese, to which Li replied.

"He bids us welcome, and invites us to be his guests," Li said. I asked Li
to thank him, and said we would be most grateful to accept his hospitality.

Li and I were each carrying rucksacks containing our overnight gear and two
boys, both dressed in the same saffron robes, materialised from the darkness
behind our host to take them from us. The older of the two boys must have
been about 19, though it was hard to be sure as he had an incredibly smooth
complexion and pink cheeks. The other boy was about 17 and he was, if it
were possible, even more beautiful. I realised that I was staring at them,
and I'm sure my jaw had dropped. Never before had I seen two such gorgeous
boys.

To be truthful, I had never been a great admirer of Asian beauty until I
visited northern China but a stroll through the streets of downtown Beijing
after my arrival had changed my opinions. Some of the young men I saw there
were quite stunning and the most tempting of all was a young soldier of
perhaps 20 years, standing guard at the ceremonial flagpole in Tiananmen
Square, across from the gateway to the Forbidden City. Propositioning a
member of the People's Liberation Army, unfortunately, would not have been a
good idea, so I contented myself with taking his photograph for my future
enjoyment.

Li had observed my reaction to the two young monks and gave me a sly smile
that was almost a leer, but he said nothing and we followed our host into
the pagoda. He led us through a labyrinth of rooms to a large dining hall,
in which the table was already set. We were shown to a bathroom to prepare
for dinner, then returned to the hall, where we were invited to take our
places at the table. The meal comprised a succession of dishes, each typical
of the local cuisine. There were spicy entrees, and a main course of thinly
sliced meat and crisp vegetables served in the base of a huge copper tureen
of boiling broth, heated by a paraffin wick, and accompanied by a variety of
exotic dips and sauces. Li showed me how to pick up the food in my
chopsticks and then cook it in the broth, in much the same way that you cook
food in a Swiss fondue. The courses kept coming. It was simple fare but by
the end of the meal I was fully replete, and I felt that I had consumed a
banquet. The two young monks served the meal and I had found it hard to stop
staring at them. Several times the younger boy had caught my gaze, and had
rewarded me with a shy smile. Both Li and our host must surely have been
aware of my interest in the boys, which I found almost impossible to
disguise, though Li maintained a polite conversation and interpreted for the
old monk, who regaled us with fascinating stories of the monastery's ancient
past. Finally the meal was over. We had sipped chinese tea from delicate
porcelain cups, and our host dipped his head to us both and rose from the
table.

"He says we must be tired, and bids us goodnight," Li translated. "He hopes
the night will bring you pleasure." I thanked him and said that I had
already enjoyed the pleasure of his hospitality.

Li and I were shown to separate rooms, and I began to prepare for bed. My
room was huge, with a big double bed in the middle, and ornate mirrors on
the walls and even the ceiling.

I had been in the room only a short while when there was a light tap at the
door. Before I could respond it opened to disclose the two young monks. The
older boy held a tray on which were a number of coloured bottles. Without
waiting for my invitation he carried it into the room and placed it on the
bedside table. The younger boy closed the door then came back to where I was
standing. Very slowly and sensuously he began to undress me, slowly
unbuttoning my shirt button by button, pulling it free from my trousers and
tossing it aside. He kissed my bare chest, barely touching the skin with his
full, delicate lips and sending the most unbelievable shiver of anticipation
through my whole body. His darting tongue began to explore my nipples, first
one and then the other, then he slowly licked downwards over my stomach
until he reached the start of my pubic hair where it protruded from the
waistband of my pants.

As he continued to kiss and tongue my upper body the other boy moved in and
very slowly undid my belt, then the top button, and finally the zipper,
allowing the trousers to fall around my ankles. He put his lips briefly
against the bulging cotton of my Calvin Kleins, already straining to contain
my hardness within, and then began using his tongue to caress the inside of
my thighs causing my whole body to tremble. After a few minutes of this he
slid my underwear down allowing my now raging erection to bounce free, and
the two boys guided me to the bed, indicating that I should lie down.

They now both began a slow striptease. The saffron robe is not exactly a
sensuous garment yet they managed somehow to imbue the act of disrobing with
an incredible sexuality. My first surprise was the physical condition of the
boys. Despite the gentleness of their features, both had quite muscular
bodies, and the younger boy was especially well developed. They each wore a
loin cloth around their waist covering their genitals and their small, tight
buttocks, but these were quickly removed.

My second surprise was their endowment---much, much bigger than I had
anticipated. I had always assumed that Chinese men were on the small side, I
suppose because they are not a big race of people, but these boys were
exceptionally well hung by any standards although neither was yet fully
erect. Again, it was the younger boy who was the better developed of the
two, his thick-veined manhood standing out from a small bush of black pubic
hair, its shiny glans protruding from the folds of a heavy dark foreskin as
it began to grow. The buttocks of both boys were scarred and showed signs of
recent beatings. Li told me later that the young monks were frequently
strapped naked to a trestle and subjected to ritual whippings to test their
endurance. From his early teen years, a boy was expected to take up to fifty
or more strokes of the whip without crying, and those who failed the test
were banished from the monastery. Clearly these boys were much tougher than
they looked.

The older boy removed a cork from one of the bottles on the tray he had
brought to the room and poured some oil on to his hand. It had a strong,
sweet fragrance, and he now began to massage me, rubbing the oil all over my
body, easing the tension in my shoulders, working slowly down to my
buttocks, and then concentrating on my inner thighs. The younger boy,
meanwhile, had opened another of the bottles and was massaging the contents
on to his massive, swelling cock. The effect was for it to grow even bigger
and harder and he gave me a shy smile as he ran his hand up and down its
incredible length. The older boy had now opened a third bottle, containing a
pungent, greasy substance. He put a generous quantity on his finger and
without warning, started pushing it into my arse. This was totally
unexpected, and for the first time I began to wonder about their intentions.
>From the moment I set eyes on the boys when we arrived at the monastery, my
desire had been to fuck them. I'm normally a pretty virile top and I hadn't
let anybody fuck me in the ten years since I was a teenager, but it now
seemed that I was being prepared to be the receiver, not the giver . I
should have protested, but the sensation of the boy's finger working its way
deeper and deeper into my body was turning me on and the normally tight ring
of muscle was relaxing to let him in. Whatever it was that he was rubbing
into me, it was causing a tingling sensation and I didn't want him to stop.
In fact my whole body was now feeling relaxed and while I doubted my ability
to cope with being fucked by either of the boys, and especially the young
one, it no longer seemed to matter. I was feeling quite light-headed, like I
had been smoking marijuana, but it must have been something in the pungency
of the massage oils. The older boy removed his finger from my arsehole and
indicated that I should lie on my back. He placed two pillows under my hips
so that my arse was raised and as he did so, the younger boy moved into
position, his massive cock lined up with my poor tight little arse ring. I
shook my head. "Too big," I said. "Don't fuck me," but he only smiled his
shy smile and started to push the head of his massive cock against me like a
giant battering ram. It was far too big to find an easy lodgement but he
kept pushing against me until the muscle relaxed slightly, and then he was
in. I drew a sharp intake of breath. It hurt like hell but I decided I was
going to try to take it. At that moment, with my arse tingling from the
ointment and my head light from the fragrance of the massage oil, I wanted
the boy's massive cock inside me and I didn't care how painful it was going
to be. He was in an inch, then two, and then with a thrust of his muscular
young hips he was right in to me, his curly black pubic hairs rubbing
against my buttocks. I gasped at the intensity of the pain. I wanted to
scream but at the same time I didn't want to show weakness to these two
incredibly beautiful young men. I had to show them that I could take it.

With his cock still in me to the hilt, the boy leaned forward and kissed me
gently on the lips. He began to withdraw, but only slightly, keeping a good
six inches of his massive meat inside me. The pain, unbearable as it was,
was nothing to the thought of him pulling out of me. I wanted him in me. I
wanted his cock stretching me and filling me and when he thrust back in all
the way I raised my hips to meet him. "Oh, fuck!" I gasped, "Oh, sweet Jesus
YES, fuck me!" I yelled the words, putting my arms around his shoulders and
pulling him to me. "Fuck me!" I yelled again, and he obliged by pulling out
and then pushing back in hard all the way. He began to settle in to his
rhythm leaving me with a feeling of emptiness each time he pulled out but
only momentarily, banging back in to me with savage up strokes. I don't know
how long this went on for. It could have been minutes, it could have been
hours. My whole being was focussed on the sensation of being fucked. At some
point the boy rolled me over on to my stomach, withdrawing briefly and
leaving me feeling empty, but quickly remounted and now the sensation of
being fucked was intensified by the closeness of his body against mine. I
could feel his every muscle as it hardened against me with the fury of his
fucking, his muscled chest and stomach against my back, his hard thighs
against mine, and his strong arms wrapped around me.

The pain had long given way to ecstasy and as each penetrating thrust of his
cock pushed him deeply inside me I was raised to heights of pleasure that I
could never have imagined. I was soaring out of my body over distant
mountain ranges and we were one, joined in the intensity of our approaching
climaxes. The boy was grunting now, both from the physical effort and from
the nearness of his climax. Every muscle in his body was rigid and when
finally he exploded with great spurts of semen into my inner depths I
experienced it with every nerve in my body and my own release was
simultaneous.

We lay together afterwards for a long time, too exhausted to move. But the
older boy was now getting impatient for action. He poured some of the lotion
that the younger boy had used and started to rub my cock with it. In my
exhausted state I doubted that it would respond but to my surprise it began
to harden at once. Again I felt that tingling sensation but more strongly
this time, and it spread along the entire length of my cock as if the whole
thing was one big nerve ending. It was the feeling you get as you approach
climax and reach the point of no return, but it was much, much more intense.
I felt a tremendous need for release and began rubbing my cock frantically
but the boy pushed my hand away. He began to lubricate his arsehole with the
same oil that had been rubbed into mine, working quickly because he sensed
the urgency of my desire.

When he was ready he lay back with his hips on the pillows and raised his
legs, spreading them wide to open himself up to me. I needed no second
bidding, and positioned myself to enter him. I thrust into him hard, almost
brutally, barely able to control myself. I don't know if I hurt him but he
only smiled and in his dark oriental eyes I could see only a desire for
more. I fucked him the way the younger boy had fucked me, with long, hard
strokes, pulling back and then thrusting deep inside him.

With the fire now burning in my own cock I understood the savagery of the
younger boy's dominance of me. Whatever lotion it was that had been used on
us, it stripped away any semblance of control. I was a rampaging beast
inflamed by desire, and only this beautiful boy could release me. On every
upward thrust I was convinced I would climax, but I stayed there on the
brink, incredibly, for nearly an hour. In the end I was shouting out,
yelling that I was going to come, barely able to go on, yet unable to stop.
The boy too was no longer in control of himself and his lithe young body
writhed beneath me as he thrust himself forward to receive each punishing
thrust of my engorged cock. When finally it came my release was like a dozen
climaxes at once. I think I shouted out, but not words. It was some guttural
sound from somewhere deep in my soul. I fell forward across the boy, my cock
still in him, kissing him frantically. He was crying. Not from pain but from
the intense emotion of his experience. And that was all I remember. When I
awoke it was morning and the boys had gone. I thought it might all have been
a dream, except for the lingering fragrance of those incredible oils,
whatever they were.

Copyright 2002 Hornblower