The Inevitability of China

The next day was a pleasantly warm spring day, so when lunch break time rolled around, Ryan decided not to eat in the windowless confines of his secure office at the CIA, but on the outside patio.  He didn't normally bother to go outside for lunch -- the security implications of leaving his office and coming back in could easily turn a 1 hour lunch break into a 40 minute one.  But today, he needed to get away from things, even if it was for only 40 minutes.

After carefully signing back in all the sensitive materials to their safe, he stopped by the fridge, picked up his lunch, and headed back out through the security checkpoints he'd come in through in the morning.  When he reached the common area, he picked up his personal smartphone from the security officer, and headed out into the bright sunshine of a perfect East Coast spring day.  He was sure that time to eat lunch by himself while watching facebook's goofy cat videos on his smartphone would take his mind off of things.

Today, two things were on his mind.  

First of all, the increasingly worrying problem he and his counter-espionage group had been struggling to get to the bottom of for weeks: the fact that the suspected Chinese spies inside the USA, that his group at the CIA was keeping tabs on, were starting to go dark -- they just disappeared.  While at the same time, their group had been kept abreast of the fact that the operations staff that ran espionage operations inside China was noticing, with growing concern, that their own network of spies was going dark.  Both at the same time!  How could that happen?

As he selected a wobbly table at the far corner of the patio that he'd likely be able to have for himself for the entire lunch, the second thing pushed its way into his head: what he'd done the night before.  My god, the sex with that Chinese hunk had been incredible, and his ass still ached from the pounding it had taken.  So did his balls, which had been drained twice.  Somehow, the pain felt good.  

Truth be told, even seeing the Chinese man naked in the shower at the gym last had been incredible, and that in and of itself was more exciting than anything else in his recent sexual experience. 

Ryan could remember watching, via furtive peeks, how the water sheeted off his golden-tan, perfectly smooth, balloon-like pecs and ran in rivulets down his hairless eight-pack abs... how big his cock was even when it was still totally soft... and the way it hung down far below his ball sack and swung heavily between his legs as the Chinese man had been aggressively scrubbing shampoo into his jet black hair.  The moment Ryan saw it, the thought that went through his mind was: "He's as long when soft as I am hard.  And thicker too!"  That was the moment when Ryan's own cock involuntarily started to stiffen. 

Which was a blessing, because if he was left to his own devices, he never would have had the confidence to approach this golden god of an Asian man, and that would have been that.  But, instead, the golden god of an Asian man happened to look his way, and saw Ryan pretending to be oblivious but with his 4" white cock unapologetically hard and standing up straight.  

That was the moment everything changed.

For a moment, Ryan had tensed, thinking that the man who'd just caught him might become angry, but instead a sultry and devious smile spread onto his handsome face.  He confidently walked over to Ryan, his soft cock swinging heavily between equally powerful thighs, and said with perfect confidence and a light Chinese accent, "If you like what you see, let's continue at your place, not here in the shower.  My name's Xiaojun by the way."  

At that point, everything became blurry with excitement.  All he could stammer was, "Yes, let's.  My... name's... Ryan."  

And now, just sixteen hour later, here Ryan sat, ass aching and still holding in the load of virile Chinese seed Xiaojun had deposited deep inside him.  He remembered how he'd confessed his identity and line of work, and in the passion of the moment, how he'd even volunteered to follow the Chinese man's role-play script, which had him saying things no employee of the CIA should ever say.  Things no American should ever say!

The memory of it made Ryan feel sick and defeated, and yet horny and aroused.  Just as in the showers the night before, his small American cock had become rock hard.  Unlike in the shower, this time Ryan was wearing khakis, and there wasn't much chance anyone would notice.

Ryan was lifting a fork-full of salad to his mouth when his phone dinged loudly.  Engrossed as he had been in watching videos on facebook, the noise took him completely by surprise, and his hand
jerked and sent the contents of the fork flying over his shoulder.

"Hi handsome." the message said.  The number it came from was not familiar, not even the 619 area code.  It must have been a wrong number.  Ryan was certainly pleasant-looking, but no one would ever use "Hi handsome" as an opening line with him.

Just as Ryan decided to ignore it and went back to watching facebook videos, another text came in from the same number.

"Last night was hot."

Oh my god, could this be Xiaojun?!  But they hadn't exchanged phone numbers!  How could he...?

Then Ryan remembered a brief moment at the end of their hookup at his place, when Ryan lay panting on his bed, covered in his own cum and filled with a load of Xiaojun's.  Xiaojun was standing over him and had just finished getting dressed again, when he pulled his own phone out of his pants pocket.  For some reason, Xiaojun had briefly held his smartphone against Ryan's, sitting on the nightstand, until there was a faint beep.  Had that done some kind of transfer of...?

"I hope you're OK, Ryan.  Your american ass was almost too tight for a Chinese-sized cock" the sender said, in a humiliating mix of empathy and condescension.  The message was finished with four emojis: a USA flag, an eggplant, a China flag, and an orange explosion.  If there was any doubt about the identity of the sender, it was gone now.

Ryan was stunned, his heart started to race, and he could actually see his iPhone trembling along with his hand as he stared almost slack-jawed at the screen.  Should he respond?  Or was this getting out of hand?

In three short messages he'd been reminded him of the utter bliss of their sex the night before and reignited a desire for more. Before the encounter with the Chinese hunk, Ryan had a three year dry spell because of COVID.  His next most recent sex had been a disappointing one-night stand with a white guy he'd met on-line who turned out to be nothing like his profile picture -- easily 15 years older than Ryan, with thinning hair, and a cock no bigger than Ryan's 4".  By contrast, the sex last night that broke the drought was like sex with Superman!  And Superman had just called him back.  Why would that not be perfect?

But before Ryan's trembling fingers could tap out a response, the other reality crossed his mind.  This Superman was Chinese.  Not just Chinese, but from China.  And not just from China, but -- from his words -- one who wanted to see China triumph over his own country.  'We're going drain America until it's a weakling, and then you'll be on your knees to us.' And if that wasn't bad enough, he'd persuaded Ryan to join in, as if he too wanted China to humble his country.  But he didn't!  He couldn't possibly!

Even as Ryan rejected the thoughts that were replaying through his head, realized that his left hand had moved to the almost unnoticeable bulge in his khakis and had started rubbing involuntarily.  Coming to his senses, he looked all around the outdoor patio to see if anyone might have noticed, but it seemed no one had.  He also saw the huge, hulking concrete and glass building, and it reminded him of where he worked: the CIA.  

This roleplay was now going way too far, and what had started off as arousal morphed into sick dread.  This was wrong.  He had to stop this.  All of it.  He decided he'd ignore the texts completely.

Somewhere else, Xiaojun was holding his own smartphone and grew impatient at having received no replies to his texts, which he'd considerately timed to arrive at the lunch hour.  He switched to Plan B.

While Ryan sat rigidly, trying to will away the last of his dangerous temptation, his phone bleeted again.  This was a different sound than a text.  Softer, and unfamiliar.  He looked down to see he'd just received a facebook friend request.  His facebook account didn't use his real name, and none of his friends or family knew he was there; he just used it to read through groups.  But now, someone had found him there.  Could it be...

From LI Xiaojun.  His profile picture was familiar -- it was the man he'd had sex with last night, standing speedo-clad on a sunny tropical beech, his golden tanned skin even more radiant with a healthy summer suntan, and his black speedo bulging so obscenely that it drew the waistband down.  The banner behind his profile picture was the pattern of a proudly waving China flag, powerfully red with its five yellow stars prominent.

"Oh god," Ryan croaked out loud.  Even he couldn't be sure if he said it because of how sexy his speedo-clad Chinese Superman looked in front of his country's flag, or because he'd just inadvertently brought the flag of China onto the campus of the CIA!

Suddenly feeling scared that a passerby might see the China flag on his smartphone, Ryan closed facebook and locked the phone's screen, switched it to vibrate, and jammed it into his pants pocket as if it was one of the deep, dark secrets he had to lock up in his office safe every night.  He needed to go back to work, to put his mind back on his job and off of this nonsense, he decided.  The frustration of his job now seemed like a refuge.

In his distraction to run away from Xiaojun, Ryan asbent-mindedly tossed the reusable glass salad container and metal fork in the trash can like they were a disposable takeout.  He even rushed through the security checkpoint in the lobby and forgot to hand over his personal smartphone.

He was reminded of that transgression when he'd gotten back to his floor; he felt the silent but insistent vibration of new text message against his thigh.

Oh shit!  His phone was still active.  For some reason, instead of promptly turning around to go back to the security office on the ground floor, he ducked into the men's bathroom which happened to be just to his right.  Seeing no one around, he locked himself into a stall and took out his phone.

"You there? Are you at work?" the waiting message from Xiaojun asked.

Ryan couldn't take it any more.  "yes" he typed with shaking hands.

"At the CIA?" asked the message.

It was obvious that he was, but Ryan couldn't bring himself to admit it.

"in the bathroom" he answered.

"In the bathroom at the CIA" Xiaojun answered, closing with a goofy-face emoji.  By now Ryan's heart was pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears, and his vision had narrowed to a tunnel.  He knew that what he'd divulged about himself last night should have been kept private, but he eventually convinced himself it wouldn't matter.  Now, it had come back to haunt him.

Another text arrived.  "Get my facebook friend request?"

"yes"

"Like what you see?"

Ryan halted his conversation to go back to facebook.  He looked again at Xiaojun's profile, graced at the top by his speedo-clad picture and China flag banner.  The first time he called up that profile, Ryan had panicked to think that he'd inadvertently flown the flag of China on the lunch patio of the CIA.  Now, afforded the privacy of a bathroom stall, he'd done it again, inside the building, in the sector where they ran China counter-espionage operations... no more than 100 feet from his office.

And this time, it didn't bother him.  Instead, Ryan's lips curled into a smile when he realized that he personally knew just why the Chinese man's speedo bulged so immodestly.  In the gym showers, he'd seen the stunning size of the soft cock that was packaged up inside the speedo's tight fabric, and he'd felt the pain as the hard version of it had been stuffed into his ass when Xiaojun fucked him.

With a flick of his thumb, Ryan scrolled further down the profile. Another photo, this one in black and white, showed Xiaojun shirtless but wearing athletic shorts, working out on some kind of chest machine at a high-tech looking gym.  His expression was focused but stoic, but the exercise he was doing made his chest erupt in a series of bulges and ripples, and his strong arms were corded with straining muscles and tendons.

"Superman," Ryan said out loud in the lowest of whispers.

He scrolled down further to see Xiaojun in an elegant dark blue suit, standing next to a shorter and radiantly beautiful Chinese woman in a flowing white dress.  A wave of sick jealousy hit Ryan as he thought Xiaojun might be married, but when he looked at the rest of the picture, it was easy to see he was perhaps only a relative of the bride -- who'd married a man nowhere near as handsome or tall as Xiaojun.  Ryan laughed softly out loud and said, "He's mine" in great relief, oblivious to the fact that the ownership was already going in the other direction.

Scrolling down even further, there was only one more picture visible. It was Xiaojun, even younger than he was now, standing proud but relaxed in a crisp, form-fitting uniform.  From his experience, Ryan knew it instantly as the uniform of China's Air Force.  The picture was not well framed, and had the look of a photo snapped by a mother who wasn't so good with cameras.  The younger Xiaojun in this picture was just as handsome, just as tall, and even more fresh faced.  The fit of the uniform was flattering, but he cut a more slender figure, indicating the muscles Ryan had met in person had not yet developed.

It told Ryan that the Xiaojun he'd met last night was still growing, and now there was only one thought in his mind: 'I want to be there as he grows even stronger'.  That settled it -- there was no way to ditch Xiaojun.

Now Ryan remembered the question he'd been asked, 'Like what you see?'.  He flicked back to the top of the profile, this time letting his eyes linger not on Xiaojun's speedo pic, but of the red flag of China that formed a banner at the top of the page.  So powerful it looked.  Without further hesitation, he he accepted the friend request, then switched back to his text message app.

"YES" he answered, then hastily switched back to Xiaojun's facebook page with one hand while clumsily unzipping his pants with the other. Ryan's small, slender cock sprang out, stiffer than it ever had been before, and by now utterly slimy with clear pre-cum.  He switched the phone to his left hand, grasped his cock with his right, and started to stroke his small cock between his thumb and one finger.

*bzzt* Another text arrived.

The frustration of being interrupted during his solitary 'seven minutes in heaven' was blunted by the fact that Ryan knew the message was coming from his Chinese Superman.

"Are you playing with yourself, Ryan? Stop! lol"

That made Ryan let go of his cock like it was scalding hot.  He couldn't tell if it was the need he felt to follow Xiaojun's orders obediently, or the shock to imagine that the Chinese man might somehow know what he was doing, even inside a bathroom stall in the depths of the CIA.

Either way, Xiaojun had stopped Ryan mere moments before orgasm. Instead, his small American cock twitched plaintively a few times, and one small clear pearl of precum formed at the tip, but the orgasm was denied.

"I'll be at your place again at 7PM tonight.  Bring something home from work, Ryan."

'OK', Ryan answered.  And then he powered down his phone.

---

[Please feel free to email me at subbieusa (at) gmail (dot) com if you enjoy this story.  I'd love to hear from you]

---