Floating World Bitten Peach Ch. 09

After Xiu heard the last gurgling cry from Bolin from across the Vermilion Pavilion, followed by an ominous silence, Bolin's friend felt more than saw the presence of the golden-haired kueilo at the entrance to the eastern chamber. His ragged breathing could be clearly heard. Xiu knew he was watching the hungmao and Xiu deeply entering their second clouds and rain.

The hungmao was kneeling, sitting back on his calves and facing out toward the sunset over the bend in the Yangtze. He was holding his new conquest, like a small doll, in front of him, Xiu facing the river as well, his knees leveraging off the surface of the red-silk pallet, body arched out, and his anus sliding up and down on the hungmao's rejuvenated yang chu. Yet another position of the dog. A more refined version now, though. Up and down, endlessly. Xiu no longer was in pain. He was enjoying the taking. He wondered if he would ever be swallowing a member this large again. Stretching for it. Perfecting the skills of internal muscle massage of a throbbing horse yang chu of impossible size and strength.

The hungmao was sighing and groaning contentedly.

A shadow fell on Xiu, and he no longer could see the river. What he saw now was a short, thick yang chu jutting out of a thick thatch of golden hair. Xiu almost gagged at the thickness and smelliness of the second kueilo's yang chu as it was pushed between his lips. But this was no time for niceties. Xiu gave the golden hair a quite satisfactory kiss of the yang chu too. He was determined to keep the two here as long as possible. If Bolin had failed, Xiu could only try to succeed.

The golden-haired kueilo grabbed Xiu's pigtail, forced his head back, and pushed hard down inside his mouth with his yang chu. The hungmao, between pants of his own spoke sharply at the golden one in that ugly guttural language of theirs, though, and the golden-haired kueilo released Xiu's pigtail.

The virile hungmao was still sliding Xiu up and down on his yang chu when the golden one released his seed inside Xiu's mouth. He brought his mouth down to Xiu's and sucked his fluid from inside the jinan's mouth in a lips-on-lips invasion that was almost never performed between men at the Cut Sleeve Nanleshijia. But if it delayed their parting for even a moment, Xiu was determined to do it. Xiu returned his kiss and stifled his surprise and pain when the giant bit the jinan on the lip.

The golden one knelt down before Xiu and the jinan felt his fingers forcing their way inside his anus alongside the sliding yang chu of the hungmao. He was stroking his own yang chu back to thickness with his other hand, and for a brief moment Xiu panicked at the sure knowledge that he intended his yang chu to join that of the hungmao's inside his channel.

But the hungmao spoke gruffly to the golden one, and he pulled his fingers from Xiu and stood and moved toward the door. Xiu knew from what he was saying that he was telling the hungmao it was time for them to return to the vessel in the lagoon.

Xiu tightened his internal muscles on the hungmao's yang chu and captured his lips and gave him lip-to-lip attention for the first time in their session of clouds and rain. He reacted with surprise and pleasure, and then Xiu took his head and buried the giant's lips into his shoulder, where there still was some enticement powder lingering. He was lost to Xiu then.

He and the golden-haired kueilo exchanged hurried and angry words. As they spoke, Xiu performed the fan movement of the clouds and rain. In one deft, lithe movement, he turned on the hungmao's yang chu to where Xiu was facing him and, at the same time, pushed him down onto his back, with his muscle-bulging hairy legs now stretched out toward the river.

With the golden-haired kueilo still angrily talking and gesturing and the hungmao groaning loudly in ecstasy and his pale-blue eyes revolving wildly in their sockets, Xiu began to ride his yang chu hard, with revolving hips and rippling internal muscles. The golden one gave up in disgust and departed, while his captain writhed in deep lust under the jinan. The hungmao flooded Xiu's channel with his essence again soon thereafter.

The hungmao drifted off to sleep hours later after the third clouds and rain, in which Xiu lay on his back, his hips raised by red silk pillows, his legs flared out wide, and the hungmao on his knees on the red pallet between his legs, looking out at the now-furled sails of his vessel riding quietly in the surface of the river and moving his hips and centering deep, plowing back and forth, in a more acceptable position than that of the dog, rhythmically and forever, while Xiu sighed and moaned for him, letting him know he was the most masterful jen in the Central Kingdom. Holding him enthralled with every trick Xiu had learned.

Xiu performed clouds and rain, each time in a different position and ever more intricately, although including the position of the dog when that pleased the kueilo, holding the hungmao's total attention between replenishment meals supplied by a delighted zhaoguzhe, for the next three days and nights.

When the hungmao finally descended to his vessel, stiff legged and humming, on the fourth day, Xiu was at the edge of the veranda of the Vermilion Pavilion, only slightly happy to see him go. He had a yang chu such as Xiu would never again ride, a yang chu that the zhaoguzhe would have expertly measured in length and thickness in his mind and in his handling during the clouds and rain ointment application and would record on the official record of capability. But it wasn't just the size of him that enhanced Xiu's value to the Cut Sleeve Nanleshijia; as Xiu's clouds and rain became more inventive, the hungmao had become more and more gentle and lost to him. If the Duke of Shi had instructed that he be held here forever, Xiu could have managed that—and would have been content doing it.

Xiu could part from him with the knowledge that his fortune and legend was now made, not just in the Cut Sleeve Nanleshijia, but also beyond the pleasure resort of Nantung—perhaps even beyond the entire prefecture of Yangzhou. Xiu could dream of being lionized to the King of Wu himself. Perhaps he could dream of serving the yang chu needs and desires of the Son of Heaven himself.

But as much as Xiu had come to enjoy the hungmao's horse yang chu churning inside him, Xiu remained Chungkuojen to the very fiber of him. He sensed that these kueilo, these foreign ghosts, were devils to be avoided and kept away from the purity of the Central Kingdom. At least he could rest in the knowledge that his four days of delay had given the Duke of Shi the time he needed to devise plans to eradicate this threat—to ensure that no kueilo ghost ships would enter the mouth of the Yangtze River or the bays of any other city in the Central Kingdom ever again.

But these thoughts were quickly lost to Xiu. With the visit of the Jin kueilo, his whole life and environment had changed. When the kueilo was gone, Xiu found out that, although Bolin had survived his cruel clouds and rain experience, it was only barely and perhaps only for the present. Xiu found him on his cot, torn internally and nearly delirious. He didn't have much time for concern for Bolin as he also had been informed that the zhaoguzhe had been found dead on his office floor shortly after Xiu had accomplished his feat of imprisoning the hungmao in clouds and rain for four days and nights. The call had already gone out to the kingdom for a new zhaoguzhe, as a nanleshijia could not function without one.

The most significant change in Xiu's life, though, was that he no longer was in training to be a jinan; he was a bitten peach. And he was a famous jinan now. In the ensuing weeks, though, nothing in his life became regularized again. And, exoticly, he now was associated with what became known as the Kueilo Position, the position of the dog, which he would now frequently be called upon to perform as a symbol of his broader-world experience. He was belatedly being given his full-moon period of rest after his initial clouds and rain, but rich notables far and wide were eager to sign his schedule book—and to mount his hips and fuck him like a dog. Almost universally, the rich clients sought assurances that they covered him in this position better than the kueilo ship's captain had, and Xiu always lied and said that they had.

For now, though, there was no zhaoguzhe at the Cut Sleeve Nanleshijia to give order to the further professional life of the brave Xiu.