Chapter 40

After the Great Wall - Now What?

I loved that bed and his arms.  My head stayed on his shoulder all night.  His arms never left me.  I kissed him so many times during the night.  I kissed him again as the sun rose.  I pressed against him.  Felt his warmth.  Felt my warmth.  Touched him.  My hand slid across his chest and shoulders.  His hand played in my hair, held my head as he kissed me.  I rolled onto my back and pulled him onto me.  He took me.  I held him.  When he climaxed, I wrapped my legs around him and held him tight in my arms.  I lay still for his kisses.  I loved what I saw in his eyes.

Next?  Almost no words.  We held each other buried under blankets.  We held each other.  That was our focus.  Touching, holding, smiling.  I think I would have spent all day in that ancient room.  On my back.  Happy to be under this new man.

It was Sheng who finally moved us.  He pulled me into an adjoining washroom.  Probably not from the 1500s.  There was limited water, but we used it well.  His hands were all over my breasts.  I washed his chest and shoulders – over and over and over.  We spent some time just standing close and looking into each other’s eyes.  The way he looked at me, I didn’t feel like a six or seven.  Eight for sure.  Maybe nine.

We dressed and refilled the picnic basket but didn’t go far.  Out of the watch tower and out to the road.  We just took a few steps and then stopped to look at a beautiful morning.  The sun was just up.  A cool breeze came over the ridge.  He wrapped his suitcoat around my shoulders and held me close.  I held him around the waist, my head on his shoulder.

Perfect morning.  Perfect moment.  I felt the cool breeze on my legs and his warm arms around my shoulders.  I can’t begin to tell you how good it all felt.  So much to see, so much to feel, so much to appreciate.  But.  I have that small part of my brain I can never seem to shut off.  It was asking me – now what?

It was asking me if I would ever see him again.  Was this the start of something, or would it be a night I would never forget, always love, and never speak about.  Did I want more?  Yes.  Not very honorable.  I had a hidden husband back in Shanghai.  Yes, Jiks was out with other women, but that did not make it right for me.  I had made a promise too.  Now I had broken that promise and would do it over and over again given the chance.

And Sheng?  How many women did he have in his life?  What did he want?  Did I have more than a passing chance with him?  I had to ask.  My head still on his shoulder, I spoke quiet words into the morning breeze.

“Thank you for last night.”

“I am grateful you came all the way up here with me.  You trusted me.”

“Yes, I trust you.”

I tried to phrase my next words.  Meanwhile he changed his hands.  One still held me tight against him.  The other started stroking my hair.  Soft.  Slow.  God, he was the perfect man.

“Will you be taking me on other tours?”

“The Academy meets monthly.  If your film schedule allows, I would be happy to show you more of Beijing when you visit.”

“I would like that.”

Just to be clear, I kissed his neck.  He kissed the top of my head.  And held me.  So many things to remember from our night together, but I will certainly remember how he held me – and how much I wanted him to.

Sunshine brought tourists.  We could see the chairlift running again.  Tourists making the final climb to the wall, then walking the road – toward us.  Time to leave.  We passed clusters of tourists on the road – sweatshirts and jeans, us dressed, well, more formally.  We got looks, and smiles.  I can’t say I smiled back very much.  I had been in his arms before they arrived.  Now I wasn’t.

We took the chairlift down and then wandered through the souvenir shops on our way to the car.  T-shirts (“My parents walked the wall, and I just got a t-shirt” – in at least eight languages).  Some artwork.  Sheng bought me a watercolor.  The perspective was looking up from the valley below.  Late fall.  Snow in patches.  Evening.  Still light, but with hints of night to come.  It made the wall look ancient.  I loved it.

The driver came back from wherever he had spent the night and took us, the picnic basket, and my painting back into Beijing and my hotel.  He got my bag out of the trunk and waited.  I asked - and hoped.

“Sheng do you mind coming up to my room for a few minutes to tell me more about the Academy schedule?”

“Certainly.”

He picked up my bag.  The driver was no fool.  He knew not to wait.  Inside I got the key for the room I had reserved but not yet used.  Nice room, good view, not that it mattered.  Sheng was patient while I undressed him.  Patient while I slowly undressed and then picked through my bag for a nightgown in red silk.  I spent some time on my knees to reward him for his patience.

In bed we shared a pillow and lay close.  No sex (well, not until later that night), just fondling and talking, mostly in whispers.  Introductions, really.  I told him about making the tourism videos, and he told me how he got his job at the Academy.  Sharing bits of our lives.  Lots of silences in between our stories.  Our hands did a great deal of talking.  He knew where to please me.  I found my hands mostly on his shoulders.  Great shoulders.

I ordered up room service twice.  Our only times out of bed.  Eventually he did actually talk about the Academy.  Schedule, usual agenda, special meetings, leading members.  I remember most of his words – and where he had his hand as he said them.  Mostly I remember napping in his arms.  It felt wonderful.  So warm.  So sheltered.  So protected.  And that part of my brain asking – what next?  My answer was – more.  Please, more.

The next morning, I had a flight to catch.  Almost missed it, we spent so much time in the shower.  Didn’t kiss in public, but I held his hand until the last possible moment.

Back in Shanghai I went straight to our apartment and showered again.  I think women can smell another woman on their man.  Can men smell another man?  I did my best job on my hair and makeup and pulled on one of my shortest skirts.  I actually straightened the house and made dinner dressed like that – and wore sandals with three inch stilettoes.  Not good on carpeting, but I wanted him to see me in them when I met him at the door.

He was quiet when he got home.  Listening mode.  He asked for my impressions of Beijing.  Then asked about the Academy.  I told him about the poets.  I was careful not to criticize.  These were national heroes.  Old national heroes, but heroes nonetheless.  I talked, he listened all through dinner and then as we sat at our usual places on the couch.  A comfortable conversation.  He held my hand.  I sat close.  When we got to the couch, I pulled my feet up under me and leaned my head on his shoulder.  I was that comfortable.  What did that say about me as a wife?  I didn’t ask the question.  At least not then.

When he did talk, it was about the film release and premiere.  The wardrobe ladies wanted to meet with me about my dress for the yellow carpet.  He was getting good reactions to the film.  He expected good reviews and better attendance.  A number of high school girls had gone viral on social media with various cosplays.

And then he took me to bed.  Alpha male.  No foreplay.  My arms locked at my sides, his dick in me, his face staring down into my eyes.  Domination.  Yes, some sex.  Or domination via sex.  I looked up and knew that he knew.  And he knew I was his.  He would take me when he wanted and how he wanted.  I was his.  As to the question – now what?  That was simple.  He would assert his rights.  I was his wife.  He would make me understand that.  And I did.  I was his wife.  Whatever happened in Beijing, I was Jiks’ wife.