by Tangstory
But instead of answering, Shen Liangsheng took a step towards the doctor, blocking the slanted rays of the sun, and planted his lips on the corner of the man’s lips, licking clean the remaining traces of congee with slow flicks of his tongue.
“You…” Ch’in Ching started to speak, but the man took the opportunity to snake his tongue in through the opening while one hand slid up to his ear, fingers gently rubbing his earlobe.
Ch’in Ching felt a light tingle from his ear, and the next thing he knew, the man was carefully passing his tongue along the roof of his mouth before skilfully coaxing his tongue with tireless licks.
“I…” Getting a hold of himself, Ch’in Ching took a small step back and attempted to speak again, but the taller man pressed him back into his embrace with one hand and resumed the kiss, this time a deeper one. The tip of his tongue reached the base of the doctor’s, and he gently lapped at the muscle again, inviting it to a lingering dance.
Although there was a lot Ch’in Ching should say, at this point there was nothing more he wished to say. He closed his eyes as the evening sun meandered in the space between their faces, lightly grazing his eyelids and dyeing them red like rubies. The fervid kiss was intoxicating, like a century old bottle of wine.
Ch’in Ching tried to kiss back, but the man did not give him the slightest chance, and the gentle caress became an aggressive offence, stripping the doctor of any ownership over his own mouth. Ch’in Ching nearly lost track of his own tongue and could only sway along the rough waves like a canoe in a storm.
Caught in the fervor, Ch’in Ching forgot to breathe through his nose for some time, and when he eventually did and his brain cleared up somewhat he noticed that the taller man had slowed the pace. His tongue was now thrusting repeatedly deep inside his mouth, gyrating as one would during coitus.
The teasing was making Ch’in Ching’s throat quiver and his mouth water, and unable to swallow, he could only let the saliva overflow and dribble from his lips in between his muffled moans.
Their bodies were extremely close, and as the kiss was prolonged, Ch’in Ching’s member began to rouse and push its half-erect length into the taller man’s thigh.
He wiggled a little, rubbing his soft erection on the man’s leg over several layers of cloth as if to beg, or perhaps it was to tease.
Shen Liangsheng smoothly followed the cue, his fingers leaving the doctor’s ear and trailing down his back. He cupped the buttocks, pressing his hips towards himself while kneading the globes playfully.
Before Ch’in Ching knew it, Shen Liangsheng had left his lips, ending the kiss, and instead moved to his earlobe. The taller man took a gentle nibble before taking the entire thing into his mouth. The tip of his tongue slid across the curvature of the cartilage before slipping inside and wetting every inch of skin.
A shudder ran through Ch’in Ching and nearly rendered his core muscles useless as he struggled to stay upright. He discovered with surprise the sensitivity of his ears.
Shen Liangsheng wrapped the doctor firmly in his arms, and knowing its potency, he swirled his tongue in and around his ear without as much as a pause.
“Mmm…” Without the man’s lips, Ch’in Ching’s moan became louder and more distinct. He felt as though the thing in his ear was not a tongue but a snake. The places the tongue touched were numb and tingly, and the man’s heated breath was like a snake burrowing, deeper and deeper, from his ear into his heart and then with the flow of his blood to the rest of his body, leaving his bones, his skin – every inch of him – aching with desire.
Instinctively, his body writhed, his skin rubbing against his clothes. The soft material now became a torture device, doing little to alleviate his yearning but rather adding to the problem. He wanted nothing more than to rip them off and save himself from the torment.
His member was now fully hardened, and its tip wet. He made to touch it but only found their bodies flush against each other, not giving him any room to reach in. The only thing he could do was to cling to the man’s back with all the strength he could muster like a drowning man would to a piece of driftwood, while he panted and moaned.
Shen Liangsheng, on the other hand, was calm and composed, continuing his game with the ear while letting the doctor cling to him. He felt Ch’in Ching’s breath quickening. Out of nowhere a rough shudder ran through the man in his arms, and he knew that he had found release without any direct contact.
“Ch’in Ching.” Shen Liangsheng let him go. His expression was as cold as ice and his breathing had not been altered. Rather than a passionate and intimate affair, it seemed as though he were at a military negotiation on the battlefield. “Desire is illusion; if you cannot let it go, you must suffer.”
“Are you giving me a warning, Shen-hufa?” After Ch’in Ching caught his breath, he appeared nonchalant as always and eyed the hufa’s unresponsive crotch. “I can’t let it go. You can’t get it up. I reckon we are even.”
“No matter, Ch’in-taifu.” Shen Liangsheng did not appear to be angered by the mockery and only nodded. “The night is young.”
* * * * *
[1] An abbreviation of one of the eight dukkhas, “怨憎会苦” (literally, resentment hatred meet pain). One interpretation is “association with the unbeloved is dukkha” as described here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dukkha#Buddhism
[2] Ch’in Ching quotes Mencius. The phrase is literally, ‘noble men (stays) far (from the) kitchen’ and was used by Mencius to describe how noble men cannot bear to see the butchering of animals.
Chapter VIII
The autumn sun set early, and night gradually crept in, just like the light pecks from the man before him.
Shen Liangsheng took Ch’in Ching’s left hand and began kissing from the fingertips, advancing inch by inch.
Ch’in-taifu’s usual attire was that of a Confucian student, a wide-sleeved robe that made it easy for the other man to push the sleeve back until it hung in loose folds at his elbow, revealing the doctor’s bare forearm. The man’s gentle kisses and nibbles on the tender skin along the underside of his arm created a lingering, dull pain.
He shuffled back to lean on the countertop, and Shen Liangsheng went along and lifted the doctor by the waist with one arm up onto the countertop.
“No wonder the saints[1] said…” Seeing that the man had no plans to change their location, Ch’in Ching used his free hand to push aside the jars and bottles, clearing the surface. “…that which man desires most is food and sex.”[2]
Perhaps the taller man had tired of his wordiness, for he let go of the doctor’s waist and pressed his fingers to his lips, gently caressing.
Ch’in Ching opened his lips, closed his teeth around the man’s index finger and lapped at the tip. Shen Liangsheng gently pried open the teeth and slid his middle finger in as well to mingle with the pink muscle inside. He then thrust the two digits back and forth, making Ch’in Ching feel as though he were sucking not on fingers but on something else.
When the fingers went too far, Ch’in Ching could not help but cough. Looking up through the gloaming at the man, he grabbed the man’s wrist and moved his hand out a little until he only had the fingertips in his mouth. “I love you.”
Staying silent, Shen Liangsheng took his hand back and laid the doctor down onto the countertop before taking his time with untying his clothing – outer robe, inner robe and finally the undershirt – until his chest was fully exposed.
The autumn nights were chilly, and when the cold draft gushed in from the open window cooling his skin, the only warmth Ch’in Ching could feel was from the hot breath blowing on a spot on his chest. Shen Liangsheng was sucking on his left nipple, licking and playing with the little nub until it swelled and hardened against his teeth. He then lightly clamped down on it, gently grinding and pulling. The sharp pain, and even more so the implicit joy, blended together making Ch’in Ching arch and push his chest forward. His other nipple stood to attention without any stimulation, and because of the lack
thereof, it felt a bit sore.
After what seemed like an eternity, Shen Liangsheng’s lips finally moved down towards his stomach. When they reached the navel, his tongue swirled around the depression twice and quickly dipped in, licking everything several times before changing to a thrusting motion that reached the deepest crevice.
Ch’in Ching felt as though there was a tendon linking his belly button to his groin, and every poke on one end sent a tingly rush to the other end. His soft erection seemed to be under the command of the tip of the man’s tongue, hardening with each thrust.
He lay panting but suddenly grabbed Shen Liangsheng by the hair, repeating his previous words.
“I love you.”
Shen Liangsheng stopped with his mouth and began pulling down the doctor’s pants along with his shoes and stockings. He spread open his legs and caressed the inner thighs teasingly.
“Perhaps I should not, but after considering for two months, I still love you.”
The moon had climbed above the treetops and shone into the room. Ch’in Ching was lying on the countertop with his top garments splayed on either side and his lower half completely naked. Because of years of medicinal care, his skin was fine and smooth and appeared unnaturally pale under the moonlight.
“Do you know, Shen Liangsheng? I love you.”
As though spellbound, Ch’in Ching kept repeating the same utterance. His eyes, however, were fully conscious and locked onto those of Shen Liangsheng with their warm and earnest gaze.
“Do you know? I love you.”
Shen Liangsheng slowly reached a hand forward and laid a finger on the doctor’s alert member, sliding from the head down the length to grab a tuft of hair and twist it around his finger. When he opened his mouth, it was a repetition of his previous statement.
“I do know.”
Ch’in Ching still held a strand of the man’s hair but let go after hearing his words. He smiled and sighed softly, “That is good.”
Without responding, Shen Liangsheng reached to the side for the bowl with a bit of remaining congee and poured the cool, thick mixture on the base of the doctor’s member.
After the proper treatment, the rice had already melted into the water, and the sticky liquid slowly dribbled down along the crack and over the entrance.
Shen Liangsheng slid in one finger with the congee as lubricant, and after a few shallow thrusts he bent his finger slightly and began exploring the tender lining. Ch’in Ching was a doctor and knew exactly for what the man was searching. Miao Jan’s words a few months ago popped into mind, and he wondered if the Hsing Sect also had a shuang-hsiu mantra for two male practitioners.
He sneaked a hand to the taller man’s crotch and found the manhood hard and its shape well-defined even under several layers of fabric. He flicked what he assumed was the head, chuckling. “I thought you couldn’t get it up.” He teased, but he knew very well that lovemaking was little more than copulation for Shen Liangsheng. Even if lust arose, the man still was in control and was not invested wholly in the situation.
Ignoring Ch’in Ching’s verbalizations, Shen Liangsheng added another finger and used the two digits to find the sensitive spot. He slid along it lightly at first but soon began rubbing the tiny, erotic protrusion sometimes gently and other times roughly. He could nearly feel the erection, lodged uncomfortably between their bodies, become harder with every stroke of his fingers.
Soon the number of fingers increased to three, and Ch’in Ching was so aroused that he was excreting a certain slick fluid that clung to the digits and made sinfully loud squelches.
Without undressing, Shen Liangsheng took his own manhood out from his pants and replaced his fingers at the slick opening, unhurriedly drawing circles but not entering.
It was Ch’in Ching’s first time with a man, but because his partner was patient with the foreplay, his behind had learned the ecstasy that the man’s fingers had brought – three parts of feeling full, two parts of slight pain and remaining half an exhilarating tingle. Without the stimulation of the fingers, his entrance felt overwhelmingly empty and it began clenching, sucking on and inviting in the man’s member.
Finally, after teasing the doctor for some time, Shen Liangsheng raised one of his legs with one hand while using the other to guide his length into the entrance. The head gradually forced its way into the tight opening. The tightness proved a bit painful, so he patted the doctor’s butt and commanded, “Relax.”
Ch’in Ching was in pain as well, but he knew he should not linger in the current situation. He tried his best to relax his entrance and felt the thick shaft pushing in bit by bit until it stopped somewhere deep inside him.
He let out a big sigh and caught his breath before wrapping his legs around the man’s waist. Soon, he felt the length inside him move, not very quickly but still painfully. His brows furrowed and the erection between his legs became a little limp, swinging half-heartedly along with the rhythm.
But Shen Liangsheng was not a cruel partner. Not waiting for Ch’in Ching’s request, he began stroking the poor member and sometimes rubbing the tip, softly scraping and toying with the small hole.
The sensations became more and more pleasurable for Ch’in Ching, and his manhood returned to its previous state, even leaking juices that made the stroking wetter and easier for Shen Liangsheng. All the blood in his body seemed to rush to that one spot, and the pain in his butt lessened as another sensation crept into existence.
However, Shen Liangsheng was in no rush and only kept a moderate pace, aiming his shaft in various angles until the muscles around him suddenly constricted. He then slowly sped up, penetrating with deceptively shallow thrusts followed by an unexpectedly deep one.
Just as Ch’in Ching was wallowing in the sensual gratification, he felt the man’s hand leaving his member, and so he rocked his hips forward.
In the same moment, Shen Liangsheng sunk deeply into him, pushing into his sensitive spot with the head of the shaft and sending a wild rush of pleasure to his head. His waist went limp and his hips threatened to fall back down, but the man held them in place and kept thrusting in the same deep and powerful way, hitting that exact spot without any error. Ch’in Ching felt the action strike a spark within him, and the impure flames exploded spreading to the rest of him in the form of a light blush.
“Mmm…” A moan escaped Ch’in Ching’s lips revealing his complete loss in the sea that is lust. His mind became a jumbled mess as the pleasure hit him like rain on a banana tree[3] leaf – the drizzle had just begun, and the droplets had yet to form a continuous downpour, hitting the leaf one by one.
“Shen Liangsheng…” he groaned as his hips gyrated on their own in time with the welcome penetration. “Fa…ah! Faster…”
Before he knew it, the steady thrusts had become a wild pounding. The immense power was the same but the drizzling had at last become a storm of shameless self-abandonment. Every pore of his skin was soaked in its delicious moisture, and his bones seemed to lose their shape. His legs were no longer around the man’s waist, and he hadn’t the slightest clue what position they were put into. All he knew was that deep inside him a million little things were throbbing, forcing him to cry and moan and whimper words he himself could not comprehend. His member was so sprightly that it nearly touched his stomach. The head continued to spit out translucent juices which dripped onto this abdomen.
But regardless of how wonderful he felt back there, he was lacking that one last bit of stimulation. His erection was painfully swollen and hard, begging for its long-awaited release. Ch’in Ching reached for it but was swatted away by Shen Liangsheng, who took both his hands and locked them down with one of his own.
After enduring this torture for the interval of a pot of tea, Ch’in Ching’s face was entirely flushed, and his expression screamed both intense euphoria and extreme pain. He whimpered pitifully, “Shen…mmm…mmm…let me come…ah! Please, I’m begging you…”
Shen Liangsheng’s face had not altered much
, and not even his lower half seemed very active in this act of indulgence – his length had not even been fully released from his pants. The truth of the matter is that only three-quarters of it were inside the other man, but the doctor already looked to be on the verge of passing out, thighs trembling violently. After a few dozen more thrusts, he stroked the poor shaft only a few times before it quivered and shot out thick, white cum like a fountain onto himself.
Shen Liangsheng, on the other hand, did not release himself, only activating his mantra and redirecting his ch’i and blood. Not losing the yang essence was the crux of shuang-hsiu. If the intercourse partner were a woman, the man could even absorb the woman’s yin essence for his own benefit.
Ch’in Ching’s mind remained blank and naturally paid no attention to the taller man. He lay with his eyes closed, recuperating. When he opened them, he saw Shen Liangsheng wearing the same expression, not a hair out of place. His mouth opened to say something, but he did not know what to say, so he simply licked his dry lips.
Seeing the doctor open his eyes, Shen Liangsheng spoke first for once with a small bow of the head, “I still have important matters to deal with in the sect. By your leave.” With that said, he turned and left, his figure instantly blending into the night.
* * * * *
[1] The Chinese ‘saint’ means a man of perfection who is the most intelligent and morally correct. The figures regarded as ‘saints’ include the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors and the great philosophers such as Confucius, Mencius and Lao-Tze.
[2] Ch’in Ching quotes both Book of Rites and Mencius. Translations from http://ctext.org/liji/li-yun (section 19) and http://www.indiana.edu/~p374/Mengzi.pdf are referenced (6A.4).
[3] Musa basjoo, or the hardy banana, is a plant that commonly appears in Chinese literature. The leaves of this plant are strong and broad, and the sound of rain hitting the leaves has often been described in classical and modern literature alike as aesthetically beautiful.