Michael’s night in Beijing 10 min read

I turned up my collar against the cold, biting wind which blew unendingly from the west. Dust accumulated between my teeth if I opened my mouth. Little scraps of paper blew round and round, swarming like excited children. I stepped out into the wide boulevard and checked my watch. 11 pm. The streets of Beijing were nearly empty at this time of night, save for the occasional taxi. I stuck out my arm as I saw a yellow compact Citroen drive by. The car pulled over and I hopped in the back.

The driver wrinkled his nose at me. “No English!” He wagged his finger and shook his head. “No English.”

“Don’t worry, I speak Mandarin,” I replied sharply. The driver looked surprised for an instant, and then visibly relaxed.

“A foreigner who knows Mandarin.” He shook his head in half-disbelief. “Going where?”

“I was hoping you could tell me. I’m looking for live music at this time of night. Do you know of any bars like that?”

With a screech, he put the car into gear and drove off. “Oh, there are places.” He offered me a cigarette; I politely refused. “Looking for some young women, eh?” He grinned at me in the rear-view mirror.

I shrugged and chuckled. “A FREE woman is preferable to one I’d have to buy, of course.”

“Well, I know a good place. You young people like this sort of place. My poor cab isn’t fine enough for you, probably. Foreign taxis are Mercedes, aren’t they? What nationality are you? Why are you here?”

“I’m American. I’m teaching English at the University. I’ve also studied Mandarin for a few years. And I’ve never been in a Mercedes. Where are we going? I don’t recognize this area.”

“This?” We had pulled off the main street and were careening down a trash-strewn alley barely wide enough for a single vehicle. His side-view mirror was only inches from being torn off by the side of a house. “I know this place well. Live music tonight.” The car screeched to a halt in front of a lit-up building. Characters for “The Warehouse” were flashing in red neon.

I paid the driver, and he sped off. I walked up to the main door. The female greeter’s eyes registered surprise when I arrived. She was squeezed into a qi pao, a high-necked, form-fitting silk dress. It was deep ochre, with gold birds embroidered on it.

“How much to get in?” I asked.

She smiled. “Forty Yuan. Take your coat?” She handed me the plastic ticket for my coat.

I looked over a board printed with drink prices. “Is this right? Corona is SIXTY Yuan?!” I asked. Immediately, I looked at her feet as she handed my coat to an unseen attendant behind a door. She was wearing a beautiful pair of black pumps with three-inch heels and ankle straps. I’m VERY fond of women who wear heels. It gives the wearer an aggressively sexy look that I find oh so exhilarating. However, none of my past girlfriends had ever really indulged this desire of mine. She turned back to me, wearing a warm smile that could have melted sherbet.

“It’s imported, so it’s expensive. You speak so well!”

“No, I speak poorly.” I smiled and walked inside. I hoped more of the women inside were dressed like her. I could hear the thumping of a band downstairs. Howling. It sounded horrible. I walked into a hallway and down a flight of ultraviolet-lit stairs; the noise grew louder. Was someone torturing a cat? No, it was the band. I immediately went to the bar, attracting glances as I went. The bartender turned to me, studying me curiously.

“I’ll have a Tsingtao.”

He slid a bottle of Tsingtao beer my way. I grabbed it and desperately looked for a room away from the band. I noticed a doorway marked “Billiards.” I smiled inwardly; I could go for a game. I made my way over. Refreshingly, the room was somewhat better at shielding the eardrum-shattering chaotic noise of the musicians.

I grabbed a pool cue and looked around the room. No ventilation. A heavy haze of smoke hung in the air, its tendrils lolling about. At the far end was a group of four men and a single young woman playing darts. The young woman flung a pointed projectile at the board and missed. Her male companions were sitting on a couch taunting her.

“You missed by about fifteen meters!” one laughed. “Why don’t you try aiming?”

The young woman stamped her foot and turned, laughing to her friends. “Shut your face! Maybe I don’t WANT to hit it!”

She walked back to the dartboard and extracted her attempted scores. Attractive. Short, yet shiny hair. Coarse and black. She sported a thin coating of lipstick and long eyelashes which accented her dark, almond-shaped eyes. Black sweater. Black, tight-fitting leggings. My eyes hit her feet; I almost dropped my bottle when I saw that she was expertly standing in a pair of pumps with at least 5-inch heels with gold fringes. I stood, watching. I felt myself start to get aroused, entranced by this beautiful creature. When she stood still, she rocked her right shoe backwards, pivoting on the heel, rocking back and forth on it. Sometimes, she would twist her foot a few degrees left and right, again pivoting on the heel.

Several minutes passed, and she eventually tired of darts. There was a couch between the dart-board and me. She began to strut my way, and flopped down onto the couch. I waved, she started in surprise.

“Having a good evening?” I asked, coming over. She laughed and proffered her hand.

“My family name is Huang. My given name is Lijing. You?”

“Michael.”

“Won’t you sit down and join me?” she held-up her drink and patted the space next to her on the couch. I sat on her right.

I sat down with her and answered her rapid fire questions. Where was I from? What was I doing in town? Why did I come to this bar? Et cetera. I decided to ask a few questions of my own.

“How old are you, by the way?”

“I’m eighteen. Just had my birthday three weeks ago. You know, I’ve ALWAYS wanted a foreign boyfriend. Especially one with blond hair.” She ran her fingers over the top of my head. I was pleasantly surprised by her touch, and fought the urge to run my fingers through her hair. I love it when women speak. She had a face which was both angelic and inviting, and I could tell she had an unmistakably sexy attitude.

She cast her gaze towards my crotch. “Who’s your big, hard friend?” She rested her hand on my upper, inner thigh, and closed her hand around my erection. She gently gave it a squeeze and I gasped. This woman was barely out of high school. Yet, she had me utterly speechless, dry- mouthed, and unable to thinks straight. She had me wrapped around her little finger. And she knew it.

“Buy me a drink?” I almost swallowed my tongue.

“Of course!” I stammered. She rattled her glass and a waitress collected it.

“You like these shoes, don’t you?”

I nodded. “How do you know?”

The waitress returned with a fresh glass for Lijing. She smiled. “I can tell. You’ve been glancing at them every so often. They were expensive. I wish I had a dozen more like them!” She sipped from her glass. Her dart-playing friends decided to play pool at the other end of the room. She and I were left alone in our little corner.

I was totally dry-mouthed. “I-I would LOVE to…make sure you have a dozen pairs.”

She giggled. “SO cute!” she squeezed my throbbing hard-on again. I moaned silently and fought against an erotic rush. She was playing me like a fiddle.

“Do you want to know why I like these shoes?” She sipped her drink. She rolled the cherry between her lips suggestively.

“Why?”

“They make me feel sexy.” She stuck out her right foot and pointed her toe. “See how they make my legs look? Zheme fei chang nu xing de!” (So extremely feminine!) She crossed her legs again; this time, she pointed her left foot towards me. “Feel it.”

I felt the long, thin spike as she rubbed my aching hard-on. It tapered to a sharp, nail-like point.

“They’re lovely.” I rubbed the smooth sharpness of the heel. I marveled at how they multiplied this already-attractive woman’s sexual presence. She was casually stimulating me, no doubt feeling in total and complete control of me. I slid my hand up her shin, back to feel her shapely calves, and rested my hand on her knee, but she pulled away.

“I hardly know you!” She crossed her arms and pouted her lips.

“I’m sorry. I…..”

She smiled. “You’re not allowed to touch me unless I say so.” I tacitly nodded. She smiled seductively, and began to once again massage me between my legs. I was gasping for breath. If she had asked me to spend all my savings on her, I probably would have done it then and there. The band in the next room finished their last song, thank God.

“Are you here alone?” I managed to gasp.

“No, I’m here to watch my boyfriend. He’s in the band.” I was devastated. And she read my mind. “Oh, he doesn’t really care. He’s not that great, anyway. Sometimes, I think he forgets that I exist. I’ll leave when the girlfriends of the other players leave.”

“Why do you date this guy if he forgets that you exist?”

“I don’t really know. Let’s not talk about him; do you want me to stop doing THIS?” She dragged her fingernail down my pant-leg, sending a shiver up my spine.

“Please…” I begged. “Don’t stop. Please don’t.”

“Why shouldn’t I stop?” She crossed her arms and pouted again. Her pout quickly melted into an impish smile. “Another thing I love about these shoes…when I stand in them, they always make my rear end stick out a little more.” She stood up and faced away from me. “Look! Hmm… I think I’ll make myself more comfortable.” As quickly as a cat, she slipped onto my lap and started squirming ever so slightly, gently grinding her firm little rear against my expanded crotch. She leaned back and whispered into my ear. “I’ve always loved shoes like these. I’ve devoted myself to practicing how to walk in them. Always trying to wear steadily higher and higher heels. Now I can walk perfectly in them all day. Maybe one day, I’ll throw out every flat shoe I have.”

“Lijing!” someone called from the next room. She shook her head and thrust out her bottom lip.

“Shame, they’re leaving. I have to go.” She sighed. “If only I wasn’t with them… I’m sure you and I could have a lot of fun.” She kissed me on my nose and stood up. “See me to the taxi?”

I walked with her, Lijing leaning warmly on my arm. The ‘tock-tock-tock’ of her spikes against the floor prevented my raging hard-on from softening. Her pumps added a lot of wiggle to her walk. She got her coat, and we stepped out into the frosty street. The girlfriends of the other band members were there waiting for her. She hopped into the cab and blew me a kiss.

“Bye-bye!” The door slammed, and the taxi sped off into the night.

I never saw her again.