Sigh
He could feel himself relax as the cooling winds blew through his hair as he walked. A long day of tending to his precious mango trees finally finished.
After a minute of jumbling through his too-many keys the farmer entered the home, his nightly routine forgotten as he dragged his feet up the stairs- already imagining sinking into his bed after opening the door when he saw it- a shadowy figure laying in his bed, cloaked by shadows. He froze in fear. The bed creaked as the figure moved itself into the light, revealing Mao Zedong, laying almost naked in red, ghostly thin fabric.
"Mao," he said, "What are you doing here on my bed?" He couldn't lie to himself that the dictator looked rather ravishing, but he instead stubbornly turned his head to the side. "I thought I told you we were through."
Mao frowned, but then a smirk appeared on his face, light flashing in his eyes as he spoke seductively, "How could I ever let you go? Communism had brought us together, how could I let it break us apart?" He said slyly, "You may not be Chinese, but that doesn't mean I love you any less."
The farmer still couldn't look at him, their harsh breakup on that fateful night still fresh in his mind. "You broke me on that day, but your boldness still attracts me." The younger man scowled.
Mao frowned, "We could still fix this, I'll do anything you want me to. I'll give you every part of me I can give." Mao pleaded, fabric falling down his chest as he moved closer off the bed towards him.
"I'll consider it, but first I have to ask you: what is love? Baby boy don't hurt me." Mao purred, "I can show you, just come closer." He could feel his heart racing as Mao grabbed his arm and dragged him into a burning kiss, ripping off his shirt.
He gasped as Mao pinned him down onto the mattress and deepened the kiss, moaning as the dictator grinded against him in a fit of passion.
"Are you ready for me baby?" Clark moaned as Mao wildly rutted up against him, pushing him further and further until he could feel his crown against the headboard. Sparks of pleasure went up his spine as Mao hastened, "Come for me, my love" the chairman hotly whispered in his ear, taking them both over the edge.
Clarkson could feel a pit of shame growing in his stomach as he laid in the afterglow. He just had sex with a cruel dictator who would surely cause the death of millions in the future. Mao, sensing his discomfort, pulled him closer, kissing his forehead. "Don't worry baby, with communism, you'll want for nothing." He whispered.
Clark felt the shame in his gut turn into fury at those words, causing him to sit up and turn out of Mao's grasp, "You seriously think I'll still want to be with you after all you've done? All you plan on doing?" He hissed. "Maybe not, but you can't deny our love for eachother. So please, just for tonight my love, rest with me." The older man desperately whispered.
Clarkson sighed for what felt like the 50th time this night.
"Just for tonight."
"That's all I ask for, my love."
He laid back down, feeling his eyes grow heavy as Mao kissed his neck and embraced him lovingly. Moonlight protruding through the windows and shining down on them to make a lovely scene.
Perhaps the Bhudda shining down on them, he thought offhandedly.
Nothing could take this moment away from him, as he closed his eyes and slept.
Just for tonight.
