Xi Jinping Sex Stories

I was jerking about on Reddit recently and wrote these dirty little stories featuring everybody’s favourite Communist dictator Xi Jinping. Thought they were entertaining enough to feature here as well. Enjoy.



Xi Jinping sat in his Audi A6 as it passed through the car wash humming the theme tune of “Without the Communist Party, there is no new China”. All the windows were soaped up and no one could see in so, for the briefest moments, he thought about having a wank. But his daughter was in the back so he decided against it.

After dropping her off at school, Xi Jinping was at a loss as to how to fill his day. He was delivering a motivational speech to a bunch of spastics tonight at the Global Times so he didn’t want to overdo it. He felt a twinge in his back. It had been aching since him and Bo Xilai had wrestled naked in front of a roaring fire at Bo’s 12 million RMB mansion in Chongqing. Xi had smashed a porcelain bust of Bo Guagua and he had had to leave.

Before he knew it he was at a massage parlour and had paid his 100 RMB entry. Before he could get to the changing rooms he slipped out of his navy windbreaker and could feel the fragrant steam of the sauna tickle his massive balls like a poacher under a trout.

He applied a towel to his lower torso, barely able to conceal his pulsating fleshy fire hydrant. He stepped into the room and lay down on the pleather massage table pushing his face through the hole and letting his cock hang over the side.

Behind him the door opened and Xi’s pussy senses were raised to Severe. The aroma of chicken and sweetcorn soup and whelks hit him like a steam train and he knew right then that he would sire another child.

Small hands covered in oil began to explore his muscular, egg coloured bodywork. As the girl’s hands reached his proud buttocks he tried everything in his power to hold back a huge fart he had been brewing since he’d parked in the multistorey car park.

When the girl slipped a greasy little finger up his brown eye he let out a yelp and nearly roared “Harmony!” but he stopped himself. The hands of the girl motioned him to turn over, which he duly did.

His eyes found a young Chinese girl wearing a little white tunic which he knew concealed a pair of juicy little boobs and almost certainly a clunge as ripe as a week-old banana. As he lay on his back, blood rushed into his veiny Tower of Pisa quicker than an old woman into a FamilyMart on Free Rice Day. He lay there looking like a drawing pin as the girl starting applying more and more oil. He was so hard and tall that he worried slightly that the price of oil may be affected by his erection.

Her tiny hands kneeded his giant oak and at one point Xi half thought she was an Ewok trying to climb a Giant Red on Endor. He leapt up and ripped open her tunic revealing, as he had suspected, a gorgeous set of two tits, nipples as dark as Dove Chocolate and a pussy so wet and hairy he was reminded of Mario during one of the water levels.

He dived into her like a released rapist and set about plunging into every orifice that was available and some that were not. Within hours he was on his final strokes and let rip with such a gush of spunk that the poor girl tried in vain to make a call to the Japanese coastguard.

Spent, sweating and panting Xi untangled his yawning cock and slipped on his windjacket. The girl, who later from police reports he found was called Hi Tide Run, lay on the floor, a shredded mess of manfat, baby oil, matted hair and rice. Xi looked at his Casio watch/calculator and saw that the spastic thing started in 20 minutes. He bent down over the meal he had just demolished, whispered “Harmony” in her ear and patted her on the fanny.


Erm… something about Xi Jinping and fisting…

Xi Jinping scaled the walls of the 13 million RMB Pudong condominium with all the stealth of a gekko on a Shenzhen shower wall. As luck would have it the window was open. He dropped in and slipped out of his windbreaker jacket and let the cool air caress his polished skin.

The house was quiet. He looked into one room and saw the sleeping Huang Xiaoming – handsome star of many famous Chinese TV shows and films that I cannot name right now. Without the wig and wax on his face he was rather beautiful. But Xi Jinping wasn’t into arses. Not today.

He heard a noise coming from the bathroom. He ran along the landing, his giant cock swinging in the air like Hilary Clinton’s neck after a Trump Presidential win. He looked into the bathroom and saw a tired wrinkled old woman cleaning the toilet floor with a cloth. Xi Jinping was disappointed. This wasn’t the Angelababy who he had masturbated over into an oven glove. The reality was some old crone who he suspected had breasts like a nong’s luggage at Chinese New Year and a cunt as wide and useless as the One Road One Belt project.

“Xi!” said a voice behind him. “Stop looking at my ayi with your cock out”.

Xi Jinping slowly turned around and saw Angelababy in front of him – wearing nothing but a Hello Kitty one-piece and the slightest glistening of her ample vagina. It was dripping like a burst xiaolongbao with a clit as thick as Xi’s own collection of quotes on the governance of China.

As ever Xi’s cock became harder than the gaokao exam and proceeded to bang Angelababy’s tits off as the ayi ate a bag of sunflower seeds from the floor that Xi had brought just in case.

Before Xi left he wiped his now dying cock on the hungry ayi, and bent down to the prone Angelababy, who had been covered in his man-gravy like pumpkin spice powdered over a fempat’s latte. Xi softly whispered “Harmony” in her ear and patted her on the fanny.

Angelababy: Loves a fanny patting


If you enjoyed this post you may also enjoy my book Party Members – a dark comic fantasy that exposes the corrupt underbelly of modern China.

Announcing my book: Party Members

In January this year I restarted blogging after a considerable absence from all things digital. Back in the mid 2000s I was fairly prolific on the China blogging scene with my two blogs Yellow Wings and Sinocidal, but stopped writing by 2008. Some readers may be wondering why I decided to return to blogging after such a long hiatus…

The answer, of course, is because I have something to sell.

I’m very pleased to announce that August will see the release of my first book – Party Members. It is being published by Taiwan-based Camphor Press who are an independent publishing house focused on East Asia as well as being the guys behind the fantastic literature review site Bookish.asia.

Party Members is quite different from the regular books out there that are concerned with China. You can expect all the dark wit and venom that you’ll find within my normal writing. Party Members is a fictional story about a mid-level government official called Yang Wei who lives in the backwards city of Huaishi (first mentioned in my Dumplings short story). Yang Wei is a mediocre government official in a mediocre job. However, one day his content life of bureaucratic monotony is shattered by an encounter with the advanced consumer goods he has long been deprived of.

Aided by the cynical advice of a very unlikely mentor, Yang Wei embarks on a journey of greed, corruption, and murder that ultimately takes him to the diseased underbelly of Chinese society.

This is dark comic fantasy about a world where to get rich is glorious, no matter who gets hurt in the process. Designer handbags, sex, karaoke and shady property deals combine to paint a picture of modern China unlike anything seen before.

I really wanted to write something different to what is currently out there regarding China. Readers can expect a black comedy that draws on American Psycho, Fight Club, Terry Gilliam’s Brazil, Kafka and even a bit of Lu Xun for good measure.

I shall release more details about the book in the run-up to the release in August and if anybody has any questions they can contact me via the “Contact” tab at the top of this page.

In the meantime, here’s a preview of the cover which features an original artwork by the dissident Chinese artist Badiucao. Badiucao recently did the artwork for the acclaimed documentary movie Hooligan Sparrow, so you can see I’m in pretty good company. It’s a wonderful piece of design and will give you a flavour on what to expect.

UPDATE! Party Members is now available on Amazon for pre-order at the special limited period price of $2.99! Go go go!


If you enjoyed this post you may also enjoy my book Party Members – a dark comic fantasy that exposes the corrupt underbelly of modern China.

Big Announcement Coming Soon!

Everybody’s favourite China blogger Meursault has been back online for almost six months now. During that time we’ve reacquainted ourselves with old housemate Nile, met China’s new cartoon character Mr Yang Wei, slagged off almost every so-called expert on China (as well as Mark Zuckerberg) and reposted some old favourites from ten years ago.

The burning question is why?

Why did I decide to make a return to writing about China after all these years and what was I doing during my eight years of digital silence?

Well, the answer will be revealed in a blog post this Thursday which features an exciting announcement for anybody who is a fan of my writing (that’s you, Mum). Contain your anticipation – it’s only a three-day wait. Apparently there is some kind of referendum happening in Britain on Thursday, but that pales into insignificance compared to what is happening on arthurmeursault.com.

In the meantime, here’s a very sneaky peek on what to expect…

Sneak Peek
What could it be?


If you enjoyed this post you may also enjoy my book Party Members – a dark comic fantasy that exposes the corrupt underbelly of modern China.

How to write a China article

(I first wrote this in 2007 for Sinocidal.com. Arguably, it was my most successful ever article. It was reposted in quite a few places, was translated into German, got featured in some mag, and even got linked to on Shanghaiist. Most of that seems to have completely disappeared now. There was even one person at the time who claimed I copied this off a Kaiser Kuo article. Pfffft, as if. There are better places to plagiarise from than that. The article still seems to hold as true today as it did back then. If you want to use this template for Japan just replace any instance of “Dragon” with “Samurai”. I’ve updated a few dated references too.)

“My name is Shaun Rein and I fully endorse this guide on how to write a China article.”

You’ve just arrived in your 5-Star room at the Shanghai Hilton and unpacked your fancy new Apple laptop.  As you pull the top off the mini bottle of Hennessey XO, you finally turn to your instructions from the editor back home.  2000 words by Monday about the important issues facing China today.  Easy.

But two days have passed and you are still staring at a blank screen.  You’re experiencing a stretch of writer’s block as long as the Great Wall of China and the deadline is hanging over your head like the proverbial Sword of Damocles.  It seems that more research than flicking through a copy of Wild Swans in the airport is needed after all.

Sound familiar?  Then you, my journalist friend, need the Meursault’s fully patented guide on how to write that Pulitzer Prize winning China article.  Simply follow the steps below, and you’ll have your name splashed across the front page of every newspaper in Britain faster than a convicted child molester.


Each and every good China article begins with a carefully considered and well thought-out title.  “Cor, what a scorcher” may be good enough for a tabloid article about heatwaves in April, but if you’re going to impress your fellow tofu-eating, goatee bearded colleagues at the Grauniad office (not to mention that hot feminist who writes angry columns about women’s issues), then you’re going to need to think up a snappy headline.  Thankfully, titles for China articles follow a strict guideline, and a catchy media soundbite can be created in seconds thanks to Meursault’s (TM) China-headline-o’matic.  Just choose one of the words from column A, and match it with a random word from column B.

The Dragon
The East
1.3 Billion People
Red Star

Does Dallas

The only exception to this rule is when writing an article about the clash of western commercialism against old-style Communist practices, in which case the title “Mickey Maos” must be used.

Interview a taxi driver

You may well be isolated from the unwashed masses of China in your luxury Shanghai hotel room, but for God’s sake, you don’t want the brainless idiots who read your newspaper to know that.  A good journalist never loses his common touch: after all, the whole point of your article is to pretend that you care about “the Chinese people themselves” and how unfairly the system treats them.  Bob Geldof has made a career about appearing to care for African people, and hopefully you can do the same for Chinese people, earn loads of money, and buy a big fuck-off house in the south of France.  There’s no way you actually want to meet any of the Chinese people though.  It’s OK to let some of them clean your hotel room, but any more contact than that and you risk catching tuberculosis.  So you might as well make use of the only Chinese person you ever come into contact with – the taxi driver – and pass off his opinions as your own.

Interest rate predictions for the coming quarter?  Ask a taxi driver.
Improving Sino-Japanese relations in the post-Koizumi era?  Ask a taxi driver.
Financial aid to developing African economies?  Ask a taxi driver, but leave out his politically incorrect opinions regarding “those dark folk”.  The students in the Harvard reading room don’t like reading about that kind of thing.

If you can’t find a taxi driver whose political views match those of your readers, then just make one up.  Call him Mr. Wang, inform your public that he only earns a hundred dollars a month, and they’ll believe any old crap you write.  “I’ve been following the latest series of Game of Thrones with interest,” says Beijing cab driver Mr. Wang (43), “though Ramsay Bolton’s recent behaviour has been quite reprimandable.  Still, it’s hard to follow all this TV gossip when I only earn five yuan a year.”


Nobody really understands China.  Especially you, because you hadn’t even heard of the country until last week when you failed to be chosen as a New York correspondent.  So get around the whole problem of writing difficult conclusions by just presenting a series of contrasting images.  Here are some easy ones to start you off:

  • A statue of Mao with an advert for Coca-Cola in the background.
  • An elderly Chinese man, with a long wispy beard, sat on a bench next to a fibreglass model of Ronald McDonald.
  • A sign saying “Promote Environmental Awareness” stuck in a field full of nuclear waste and dead babies.
  • A girl with a mobile phone walking past a tramp.
  • A description of a fashionable Shanghai socialite who hangs out at Starbucks and likes KFC, quickly followed in the next paragraph by a description of a former prostitute who works 5 million hours a day in a condom factory for just two grains of rice a year.

A comment on “guanxi”

It is absolutely essential that you insert at least one line about this mysterious Chinese force called “guanxi” – pronounced “GWAAN-SHE” that dominates Asian business. Nobody in the West can even comprehend what “guanxi” is, let alone utilise it, so it is a huge obstacle to foreign businesses. Don’t forget to say that there is no English word equivalent for “guanxi”, except maybe “relationships”. Or “connections”. Or any of the other twenty words that can mean “guanxi”.

Vague Conclusion

When you’ve finished writing your pointless and vague summary of obvious contrasts, follow it up with an equally pointless and vague conclusion.  Write how some things point to x, whilst some other things point to y.  “The future, it seems, is still uncertain for China” is always a good one to sign off with, especially because other countries are all governed by psychic fortune tellers who know everything that will happen for the next 200 years.

If, for whatever reason, you want to try something different (perhaps this is not your first time to write a China article.  It might be your second, say), highlight the enormous population of China, and then focus on a single individual.  That way you’ve covered all the bases and it looks like you care.  You could even try and combine both conclusion styles if you’re feeling cocky.  For example:

“It seems that the future is looking bright for the 1.3 billion people who make up the world’s most populous nation.  But for Li Hui – who is still working at the condom factory for just two grains of rice a year – that future is still unclear.”

Follow the above guidelines and you can’t go wrong.  Before long, you’ll be printing the words “CHINA EXPERT” on your business card and you’ll have your own book about the Chinese political landscape listed under the Lonely Planet Guide to China’s list of recommended reads.

Perhaps you could even call the book “China Awakes”.

“My name is John Naisbitt and I categorically deny ever using a how-to guide on how to write a China article.”

Don’t believe me on the titles? Take a look at these…


If you enjoyed this post you may also enjoy my book Party Members – a dark comic fantasy that exposes the corrupt underbelly of modern China.

Yang Wei #14: Manners

Cultural differences are funny, aren’t they? I mean, where I come from, stoning adulterers and cutting off people’s heads would be considered a bit of a social faux pas, but in the Middle East it’s classified as light weekend entertainment. Ditto for China. Go to your average tier-3 restaurant in a tier-3 city and you’ll see all kinds of behaviour that cultural relativism tells us is fine. However, despite the apparent lack of manners, there’s always one area which Chinese seem especially particular about…

Detective Daisybird

The last few posts have been overly serious, so it’s time to return to doing what this blog does best: offensive humour.

Not China related, but I feel we need a break after this week’s South China Morning Blues and Peter Hessler. You can have too much China – just ask the Philippines.

Have you ever noticed that every TV detective has a quirk? House is misanthropic and addicted to painkillers. Columbo wore scruffy clothes. Dexter kills people. Well, since my China writing isn’t paying the rent, I’ve decided to have a go at this TV Detective lark. After a thorough search of IMDB.com I’m convinced that I’ve managed to find one Detective-Quirk combination that hasn’t been done yet.

Just, one more thing…

Here we go…

SCENE: Funky 70’s music plays over the backdrop of an urban London cityscape, suddenly a red sports car is seen in close up crashing through a brick wall. Huge letters in an aggressive yellow font zoom out to announce the title.



A fat, greasy policeofficer with thinning hair in his mid-forties wheezes out of the car. He pulls a lollypop out of his jacket pocket, turns to the camera, and smiles.


A montage of exciting scenes commences. Detective Daisybird chasing a gang of criminals; Detective Daisybird offering a bag of jellybabies to a small girl; Detective Daisybird flinging a dustbin lid like a frisbee and knocking out a murderer; Detective Daisybird sat in a parked car opposite a school; Detective Daisybird firing a gun into a suitcase full of drugs; Detective Daisybird masturbating furiously into an oven glove whilst watching The Goonies.
A huge explosion fills the screen.


SCENE: Detective John Daisybird has finally gathered together all the suspects in the Sootikin murder within the drawing room of Kiddiefuck Mansion. The assorted suspects sit nervously in various poses while Daisybird paces up and down in the centre of the room. Two uniformed police officers stand alert by the main door.

DAISYBIRD: As you all know, I’ve gathered you all here because tonight I can finally reveal who was responsible for the savage murder of Sir Humphrey Sootikin. Every one of you had a grudge against Sir Humphrey, and every one of you was somewhere within this building when the murder was committed. Isn’t that right, Professor Cervix?

CERVIX: I don’t know what you are trying to insinuate Detective. As I have said before I was busy researching my thesis on antelopes of Southern Ghana in the library when I heard Sir Humphrey scream.

DAISYBIRD: That is true. Though you harboured a deep enmity for the late Sir Humphrey due to the incriminating photographs he possessed of you wanking off a Golden Labrador, I know that you could not have reached the games room in time to commit the murder…

(Professor Cervix breathes a sigh of relief)

DAISYBIRD: Unlike you, Miss Hymen, who was in the room next door and could have accessed the games room easily at the fated hour.

HYMEN: What? That’s absurd! I loved Sootikin, everybody knows that. I could never have hurt him.

DAISYBIRD: Really? Even though he cheated on you with Mellors the Gardener? Even though he made you abort the child you wanted to keep? Even though in your diary which I found this morning you wrote “I hate him so much, I wish he was dead”?

HYMEN: But… I….

DAISYBIRD: Fear not, Miss Hymen. I know your womanly hand could never muster the strength to have lifted the lead piping which dealt Sir Humphrey that fatal blow. No, I can reveal to you all the identity of the killer quite easily. Constable Sodom! Hand me a 9 year old boy!

(Constable Sodom leads a nervous and naked 9 year old Malay boy into the room. With great courage, Detective Daisybird takes off all his clothes and penetrates the boy both orally and anally. This continues for 20 minutes – including one advertisement break – until finally the boy is taken away and Daisybird dresses himself)

DAISYBIRD: And I can reveal now, absolutely and without doubt, that Senor Mustachio – the local foreigner – killed Sir Humphrey Sootikin, in the games room, with the lead piping, because of a bad gambling debt.

MUSTACHIO: O Dios Mio! But you fucking that 9 year old boy proves nothing!

DAISYBIRD: (Holds a video tape out high) You’re quite right, but this security footage of you killing Sir Humphrey certainly does. Boys – take him away!

(The two policemen grab the evil Spaniard and drag him out of the room)

HYMEN: Detective Daisybird, that was most impressive. Yet I heard that you may soon be retiring from the force, is that true?

DAISYBIRD: Not at all, Miss Hymen. Wherever there is evil, wherever injustice lurks, and wherever the innocent are in danger – Daisybird will be there. The day I stop fighting crime, will be the day I stop fucking kids. Never.

(Everybody claps)

DAISYBIRD: Just kidding. I’m off on a one-way trip to Cambodia next week.

ALL: Hahahahahahaha!

DAISYBIRD: I’m really not joking.

NEXT WEEK: Detective Daisybird arrives in Phnom Penh only to find that his 6 year old bride-to-be has been kidnapped by an embittered 1970s glam rock singer.



If you enjoyed this post you may also enjoy my book Party Members – a dark comic fantasy that exposes the corrupt underbelly of modern China.