Learning Ch. 01

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*This is a true story. Not about myself, but someone very close to me. The names are changed of course to protect the innocent/guilty*


In China in the 1990s there was very little by way of sex education. My parents would avoid the subject like the plague and although we did have one afternoon class on the subject at school it was just my luck that I was absent on that day. I remember that my elder cousin had explained the birds and bees to me when I was barely a teenager but the concept seemed so unlikely that I refused to accept her somewhat sketchy description. We didn’t get on well at the best of times and I was certain that she was telling lies in order to make fun of me or get me into trouble. Either way, I put the thought to the back of my mind for several years.

Since that day nearly all my education came from my best friend, Xiaona. She was basically as ignorant as I was, except that she had the benefit of that school class. However, we were both equally as voraciously curious about sex as and whenever either of us picked up some hint or iota of information it was immediately shared and discussed ad nauseam. Gradually we developed a rudimentary understanding of the basics of coitus and terms such as ‘kou jiao’ (blow job), ‘bao ju hua’ (anal), ‘gao chao’ (orgasm) and ‘da fei ji’ (masturbation) were naively pulled together into a semblance of order with a little success. There were still big gaps in our knowledge but at least now I could understand when some boy was making a rude joke without feeling too childish.

Neither Xiaona nor myself had a boyfriend. This was not unusual in our peer group and few of my friends would lose their virginity before their mid-20s when they married. Frankly, despite my heightened interest I was completely unready for any kind of sexual experience with a boy. I had never even seen a picture of a naked man, the closest I had come was seeing my little cousin, aged 5, swimming nude at the beach one summer a few years earlier. With nothing else to inform me I had assumed that the proportions remained the same into adulthood. Xiaona had attempted to divest me of that misapprehension during our conversations but her second hand description comparing the male member to a ‘dou jiao’ (green bean) hardly seemed realistic. During dinner I would carefully examine the vegetable dish trying to mentally superimpose the image of this limp, stringy legume onto my imaginary notion of a man’s body. An already difficult task was made harder by the significant differences in size and shape of the beans; eventually my perplexed expression brought the attentions of my mother who scolded me for playing with my food. I tried my hardest not to think about it when finally bringing the food to my lips but I couldn’t stop my face from flushing at the possibility that she had read my innermost thoughts, however unlikely that seemed.

Chinese TV was as anodyne and asexual as any other part of my adolescence. The only television we had was in the living room where my parents would sit on an evening. Even if I had access to a TV in my bedroom there was nothing more explicit than a PG-rated romantic drama to fuel my imagination. I heard rumours around school that some boys had watched imported pornography smuggled in through shady contacts. I would try and imagine what sensuous delights the films would contain but inevitably my imagination would fail me at the crucial moments. My fantasies were barely any more explicit than the PG-rated dramas I was used to seeing, nothing below the waist and always with one foot on the floor. One of my favourite western movies, Gone With The Wind, was often the template for my daydreams. My heart would race as I pictured Rhett Butler sweeping me off my feet and into his manly arms. I imagined myself swooning under the passion of his kisses before he threw me down onto the opulent four-poster bed and kicked the bedroom door closed. At that point my involvement in the fantasy ended, what Rhett and my alter ego got up to in that bedroom remained a mystery to me. No matter how I tried I could never satisfactorily visualize the rest of the love scene and always ended up frustrated at my own lack of imagination.

So it was with some enthusiasm and no little trepidation that I approached the offer of my first view into the secret world of pornography. Xiaona excitedly cornered me one afternoon at school between classes and feverishly whispered her news.

‘Your parents have a video player don’t they?’ My father was a fan of gadgets of all kinds and was one of the first in our building to own one of these still relatively rare machines. She surreptitiously pulled a video from her schoolbag and showed it to me. The sleeve was black with no proper cover like the videos my father brought from the store for us to view. Only a few characters on the spine of the video itself gave any information regarding the contents. I tried to read it but the characters didn’t make any sense, I realised it must be Japanese. I wondered why Xiaona büyükesat escort was so eager to show me.

‘What is this?’

‘Porn!’ she nodded her head emphatically, her glasses bouncing on her nose. I nearly dropped the tape in shock.

‘Quick, put it away!’ I hissed, shoving the offending object back into the depths of her satchel. My curiosity was immediately aroused of course, but I was more imminently concerned with the potential for humiliation and punishment if we were caught in school with such a thing.

‘Where did you get it from?’

‘Wei lent it to me. He said it was given to him by his cousin who’s studying abroad.’

‘Wei…but…?’ My protestations trailed off. I was scandalised at the thought that a boy from our year knew that I might have a porn tape in my possession but the fact that it was Wei somewhat eased my conscience. He was not one of the wild reprobates of some of our classes; he had a reputation as a scholarly and well-mannered boy. I was surprised that he even had access to such material at all. Somehow I felt I could trust him not to reveal our secret to the other boys, the thought may have already occurred to Xiaona as she displayed the utmost confidence about handling it.

‘Is your mother working late today?’ This was often the case. My mother was a teacher at a local university and frequently attended meetings until well after 10pm. My father was a businessman whose irregular hours of work rarely ended until the small hours. Xiaona quite often stopped in at our flat after school on her way back to the hutong her family lived in. I was glad of the company and she was happy for a few moments of privacy away from the much smaller home she shared with her parents, auntie and grandmother.

We rode the bus home together as usual that night but this journey was much quieter than normal. We both had only one thing on our minds that evening and it was hardly the topic of conversation one could continue on a crowded bus. I stared out of the window doing my best to keep my gaze from the bag resting on Xiaona’s lap and the incriminating object within. I was plagued by the fear that a sudden jolt might spill the contents of her bag onto the floor of the bus. I had barely been able to concentrate on my lessons that afternoon, my mind kept drifting to the possible contents of the tape. Xiaona had been very vague on the actual substance other than that it was ‘se qing’, the term commonly used to describe any material harder than the softer erotic movies made in Hong Kong that I had heard about. Evidently she was as in the dark about it as I was.

By the time we reached my flat I was almost worn out by the tension of the day. We both collapsed onto the sofa, Xiaona’s bag casually discarded on the coffee table seemed to obliterate the rest of the room. We both just stared silently and motionlessly at the satchel for a minute or more. Xiaona broke the stillness first.

‘Let’s make some food first. I’m hungry.’ That ‘first’ hung heavily in the air and I made a point of ignoring its obvious consequence. In my mind we had still not completely made the decision to watch the tape, however I was aware that there was a desperate battle of wills going on in my subconscious and quite honestly I knew that my conscience was going to be on the losing side. We both busied ourselves in the kitchen, hurriedly heating up a few dishes from the leftovers my mother had prepared earlier before heading back to the sofa laden with snacks.

Xiaona already had the tape out of its sleeve before I had even opened my carton of chrysanthemum tea.

‘Well…shall I put it in?’

‘If you want.’ My voice croaked. My heart was practically lurching out of my chest so hard was it beating. Xiaona seemed far less disturbed, appearing impatient more than anything else. Perhaps it was because this was my house that she was able to feel so comfortable about this. If we were caught she would not have to bear the humiliation of exposure on a daily basis for the rest of her life. I knew that the chances of this were very slim however. I knew we would have at least a couple of hours free time before either of my parents came back. Plus, in the unlikely event of one of them returning prematurely we would be able to hear the noise of the elevator at the end of the corridor as an early warning. She smiled at me and knelt to insert the little black cartridge whilst fiddling with the TV remote.

The TV hummed into life and Xiaona took her place on the sofa beside me. We giggled and clutched our boxes of Pocky, I listened intently one last time for the squeaking of the lift before allowing myself to relax slightly. I felt a warm tingling between my legs as the anticipation neared its climax.

There was no preamble to the film, no adverts or suchlike. The screen burst into life with an image of a young Japanese girl sitting on a bed. She was undeniably very pretty and though she appeared to cebeci escort be no older than either of us I had the feeling that she was far more mature than I. She was dressed in a schoolgirl’s uniform but her actions were anything but childlike. As was her body.

‘Aya! How big! Those cant be real,’ was Xiaona’s reaction as the camera closed in on the girl fondling her breasts through the material of the uniform. Neither of us had a chest to speak of and although I was familiar with the notion of western women being bustier than their Chinese counterparts it was the first time I had seen another Asian girl with a comparable cleavage. I shuffled into a more comfortable position, my legs tucked underneath me, my feet pressed against Xiaona’s side.

Presently a man appeared. He didn’t look much like Rhett Butler. He was kind of old looking and a bit bald, he was dressed like an ordinary guy in the street. He roughly removed the girl’s clothing. She didn’t seem to be enjoying herself. She seemed scared. When she was completely nude he groped her breasts greedily with his large sweaty hands. He spun her over on the bed and forced her to raise her behind to open view. The camera zoomed in on her sex but the image was all blurry. At first I thought it was out of focus but then I realised it was censored. The man stretched her pixelated vagina obscenely wide and worked his fingers inside her. Although I continued watching the screen I found myself bitterly disappointed. Where was the romance? Where was the passion? My early sense of arousal was quickly ebbing away. I gradually began to feel as if I had made a mistake in watching it at all. For every anatomical lesson I was learning from the film there was something else personal and intimate that was falling into dust. By the time the man’s pixelated penis had been ramming into the girl for a couple of minutes I actually started to feel bored.

I looked over at Xiaona. She stared glum faced at the screen. She seemed to share my opinion of the movie.

‘Is the whole tape like this?’

Xiaona gave a heavy sigh. ‘Shall I fast-forward a bit?’ I didn’t answer. I got up and went to the bathroom. When I returned the TV was off and Xiaona was putting the tape back in her bag. I suddenly felt very tired. I went into the bedroom and threw myself down on the bed. Xiaona followed and slumped down alongside me. The disillusionment was palpable. Whenever I closed my eyes I could see that ugly guy’s face contorted in a pig-like snarl. Xiaona eventually spoke, mouthing the same thoughts as mine.

‘Do you think that’s what boys like to watch?’

‘I guess it must be. At least I guess it’s what Wei likes to watch.’

‘Eeeew. Do you think he…you know…while he’s watching that?’ We both cracked up into a fit of giggles at the mental image.

‘What are you going to say to him when you give him the tape back?’

‘Hmm, maybe I won’t say anything. I’ll just slip it back into his bag when he’s not looking. Or post it to him anonymously.’

I giggled. ‘What if his parent’s open it?’

‘Then he’ll have some explaining to do.’ Xiaona nodded very sagely and I burst into laughter once more. My eyelids felt so heavy. I felt myself drifting off to sleep. Xiaona was used to my frequent bouts of somnolence but this time she seemed equally as exhausted as I.

‘I think I’m going to take a nap.’ I crawled under the duvet fully clothed and slipped quietly into a fitful slumber.

I dreamed that I was being chased by a bald naked man through the school corridors. I ran from room to room pleading for help from the other students but they merely laughed at me and clapped in encouragement for my pursuer. They seemed completely unaware of the danger I was in. Even Xiaona seemed unconcerned by my impending rape. I tried to get her to call the police but she just looked at me dumbly, confused by my request. The delay allowed the man to catch up with me. His body weight pushed me face down against a desk and I was trapped. I felt his hands roughly push up my skirt and reach underneath about to tear down my underwear.

When I awoke I was disorientated. The room was dark, I had no idea what time it was. I quickly realised that Xiaona was no longer sleeping next to me. I assumed that she must have woken early and taken a bus home. I tottered out of bed and made my way down the corridor to the bathroom. As I passed the living room I heard a noise, immediately assuming my mother must have returned I made my way to the door to greet her. I stopped when I realised what the sound was. With a start I recognised the gasps and moans of the Japanese schoolgirl. My first thought was that Xiaona must have accidentally left the tape in the machine and my mother had innocently turned it on, but quickly I discounted the idea. I recalled seeing her replace it in her bag. So who was…?

I peeked round the doorway at the only possible person who could be watching the tape. Xiaona kolej escort sat on the sofa, her eyes glued on the screen. One hand held the remote control, intermittently pausing and rewinding, the other was buried under her skirt moving rapidly with a feverish intensity that suggested she might have been busy for some time already. I was frozen to the spot. I had never properly masturbated myself. Occasional explorations of my body whilst showering or undressing had raised unfamiliar emotions but I had never had the inclination to follow those to their conclusion. I had assumed that Xiaona felt similarly yet here was the living proof otherwise. My mind stagnated with shock. I thought about rushing back to the bedroom and pretending that I had seen nothing. I thought about continuing on to the bathroom and perhaps signalling that I was awake by flushing the toilet or banging a door. In the end as I stood there weighing my options events overtook me.

Within a few seconds Xiaona was panting with pleasure. She squirmed on the sofa, arching her back as her hips lifted clear of the chair. Her thighs were spread wide and I could see her fingers frantically rubbing between her legs underneath the flimsy cotton of her panties. Her eyes remained tightly shut as her moans of ecstasy mingled with those of the girl on the screen. The scene lasted 20, perhaps 30 seconds at most. It was without doubt the most shocking but at the same time the most erotic thing I had ever witnessed. When at last she returned to earth, Xiaona’s eyes flicked open and almost immediately met mine. I gawked. She looked panic-stricken as she desperately rearranged her clothing. I stumbled, almost falling over my own feet as I ran back to my room, mortified that I had been caught watching just as she was mortified to be caught doing what she was doing.

I hid under the duvet hopelessly pretending I was asleep. The shame was so great I didn’t even know how to begin dealing with this. I couldn’t imagine how embarrassed Xiaona must be feeling. I waited to hear the slam of the front door. And waited… and waited. Eventually there came a gentle rap on my bedroom door. I pretended not to notice. The door creaked open. Gingerly I peered out from under the bedclothes. Xiaona stood in the doorway, tears flowing down her face. She looked utterly abject.

‘I’m sorry,’ was all she could muster between sobs. My heart broke and I stretched out my arms to comfort her. She landed on the bed in a soggy heap of rumpled wet clothing. She nestled her head in my lap like a bedraggled stray cat and blubbed whilst I smoothed her hair away from her face.

She started to explain how she couldn’t help herself. How she had woken before me filled with thoughts of the tape. She had thought of Wei, and of his cousin, and all the other boys who had seen it and the desire to view it again overwhelmed her. She had only intended to watch for a moment but when she had plucked up the courage to actually put it on she became completely immersed in the scene. She knew it was wrong, especially here in my parent’s house and she never meant to go that far but she also knew that this was the only place she could see it. I consoled her, told her not to be ashamed, told her that I understood what she was feeling. That was a white lie at the time, but I valued my friendship more than absolute honesty and it seemed to be what she needed to hear.

After a while the weeping subsided and she regained some composure. She went to the bathroom to wash her face. I retrieved the tape from the video player and replaced it in Xiaona’s bag. When she came back she seemed a little brighter. Now that the shock had abated my curiosity returned and I dearly wanted to ask her how ‘it’ had felt. I couldn’t forget the image of her climax and yet I wasn’t quite sure how to approach the subject. I determined to conduct my own research when I had some time to myself. In the end it was Xiaona who broached the subject.

‘I feel so sleepy.’ She stretched on the bed. And so… soft. I think I’ve lost all my energy.’ She stared up at the ceiling. ‘You know that’s the first time I’ve had one of those.’

‘You mean a…’sex climax’?’ the word seemed ridiculous as a description of what I’d witnessed.

‘Mmmm. I suppose that’s what you call it.’

‘I’ve never had one either. It looked nice’

‘Yes. Yes it is.’ She pressed a pillow to her chest as she spoke. Her eyes stared into the distance. I assumed she was reliving that feeling of a few moments before.

‘If you want I can leave that tape with you for a few days. I don’t think he needs it back straight away.’ She paused for a moment. ‘I could come round again tomorrow night after school?’

‘No. Better not. My mother’s not working late the rest of this week. I don’t think it’s safe.’

‘Oh. Pity.’ For a moment I thought she was going to ask me something else but she stopped herself. I didn’t tell her that I didn’t need the tape. The mental image of Xiaona on my parent’s sofa was all the stimulation I required. We chatted on the bed, snacking and laughing together until my mother returned, whereupon Xiaona made her excuses and left. On her way out the door she paused to say she would ring me when she got in. Then out of my mother’s earshot she whispered that she had something to tell me and gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

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