by Joanna Nelson
(05/07/03)

His family called him Bao Bao. The literal translation was "precious precious," but the real meaning was more like "precious baby." By the time they met, he'd long outgrown the nickname. He was certainly not a baby anymore, and there was nothing precious about him. He smoked Marlboros, drank Guiness like she did, and listened to blues and Black Sabbath. His family still called him Bao Bao anyway.

"Doesn't it hurt to bang your head on the floor?" she asked, teasing.

"I think that's the idea," he replied. Laughing, he turned toward her and spread his naked body over hers.

She knew how to kowtow before he explained it to her. She had learned about it in a class she'd once taken: Chinese Culture in the Qing Dynasty. Her professor had described the kowtow in detail, along with its relationship to other intriguing, un-American concepts like ancestor worship, filial piety, respect for elders and obedience. The best lectures, though, were the ones on fucking.

"The ancient Chinese were fascinated with sex," her professor had informed them, showing them slides of early manuscripts illustrated with people copulating. They'd studied the writings of ancient Chinese sexologists, learned the names of positions like Wild Geese Flying Backward and Old Man Pushing the Wheelbarrow. The class didn't just open her eyes to another culture. It opened her legs.

She had met him long before, but when they ran into each other again around the time she was taking the class, she was ready for him. Before, she'd seen just another tall, broad-shouldered, handsome young man; one with shiny black hair -- too long for his parents' taste -- that tended to fall in his eyes. Now she saw more. She pictured herself clutching that hair in the throes of orgasm. She finally saw him for the fiercely sexual creature he was.

"Do you ever kowtow to your family elders?" She asked him. He was sucking her nipple. He stopped and thought for a moment. "It's not done much anymore. It's considered kind of old-fashioned. Only on special occasions, like my grandmother's birthday."

They spent the sweltering Houston summer escaping the heat in his luxurious air-conditioned apartment -- sleeping, eating, and fucking. Her best friend gave them a Chinese sex manual. For fun, they practiced the techniques described, like Nine-Shallow-One-Deep, Pluck-and-Nurture, and Drinking From the Jade Stalk and Jade Fountain. They even tried the Old Man Pushing the Wheelbarrow, until they collapsed in hysterical laughter. But her favorite experiment with him wasn't taken from the manual.

While she did know how to kowtow, she had never actually seen it demonstrated. "Will you show me?" she asked. He stood up, smiling slyly, and took her hand. He led her into the living room and motioned for her to sit in his armchair. Slowly, he knelt on the carpet before her, spreading his hands on the floor, and touched his forehead to the floor, three times.

To her surprise, she felt profoundly uncomfortable. According to her upbringing, kneeling was act of worship, due only to God. As he began to bow, her discomfort grew. She couldn't accept this, being the subject of such submission, even though it was part of his culture, even though they were only pretending. She decided to ask him to stop. But as she tried to form the words, she saw that her legs were shaking. Then she realized that she was wet for him.

The discomfort gave way to a growing intoxication. Here was her lover, naked, totally vulnerable, prostrating himself before her like a human offering. She was Empress Wu, founder of the Chou Dynasty, insatiable sex goddess, with a stable of young male concubines. The naked man before her was a lowly palace slave, worshipping his empress, hoping to be chosen to share her bedchamber for the night.

He finished the ritual, bowing for the third and last time. She was nearly hyperventilating. The slave had pleased her; she would have him now. "Come here," she ordered softly.

He came and knelt on the floor in front of the chair, her makeshift throne. "Lick me," she murmured, spreading her legs. He complied. Burying his face in her pussy, his forehead against her stomach, he tongued her delicate pink folds. The black silk of his hair tickled the insides of her thighs. His lips found her clitoris and fastened on it, tugging gently.

Her cries grew louder, and his movements became firmer, more rapid. Clutching her tightly, he drank and drank from the Jade Fountain until it overflowed. She came hard, scratching and clawing at him, her screams like prayers. Her legs shook uncontrollably and he held them, steadying her. When at last her trembling had subsided, he let go, wiping his lips in satisfaction.

The slave had pleased her greatly; he was worthy of the ultimate honor. "Fuck me," she whispered. Smiling, he straightened up, still kneeling at her feet. With his cock twitching and throbbing, he lifted her legs over his shoulders. Positioning himself at her entrance, he grasped her hips, closed his eyes, and pushed in, making her gasp with pleasure. Her warm folds enveloped him, embraced him, until he was fully seated in her well.

He breathed hard, struggling for control. "Go slowly," she demanded, and he obeyed, thrusting carefully, reverentially. His cock worshipped her cunt, prostrating itself repeatedly inside her, until neither of them could stand it any longer. She pushed hard against him and his thrusts became deeper, more powerful. "Come now," she commanded, and, crying out her name, he filled her. His semen overflowed out of her, onto the chair and the floor.

Afterwards, they did it again, and again. Everything in threes. The ancient Chinese called the position Wild Horses Leaping, among other things. To her it always remained the Kowtow.