Trump loves Putin, but did you know that he has deep, undeniable feelings for Xi Jinping too? This is the thrilling, unrelated sequel to 50 Shades of Authoritarianism.
America fell in love with China in 1844 but didn’t realize it until 2017.
He didn’t know how or why it happened, just that one day China suddenly became the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on. Decades of moral and political repulsion melted away into unbridled lust. Things that he used to hate so much about China, like his authoritative style, became things America found endearing, admirable, sexy.
As time went on and the desire burned hotter, America became increasingly sure of one thing: he needed, with utmost urgency, to get laid.
The warm sensation taking over America’s body could have been caused by the wine, the air of romance wafting through the candlelit restaurant, or the fact that China was looking like an absolute snack in that red silk button-up with the quarter sleeves and two of the top-most buttons popped and provocatively showing a tantalizing neckline. America swallowed the alcohol down hard as his inner goddess started to do Pilates.
“Thank you for meeting on such short notice,” he said, sounding less nervous than he was.
China smiled softly. “Of course. I always try to make time for you.”
America tugged at his collar as rich, sweet saxophone notes from somewhere in the restaurant tickled his ears. He felt his skin start to prickle with heat, and it wasn’t just because the jazz music was making him think about all the ways he’d like to play China’s trombone.
Naturally, there was a right and wrong way to go about this and America certainly did not want to screw it up. He couldn’t just ask a man like China (and oh, what a man he was) for this kind of thing. As countries, every little interaction required statesmanship. And when it came to politics, there was nothing China understood better than territorial aggression.
America leaned forward, threw on that charming grin he knew all the ladies loved, and softly cleared his throat. China brought his head forward to listen attentively.
“China, I want you to penetrate my exclusive economic zone with your big, fat warship.” Even though America always did pride himself on being a smooth operator, China had to do a spit-take.
“You want me to… penetrate your EEZ? But I have no interest in your EEZs.”
America wet his lips nervously and leaned in closer. “No, see, I want your dredger and my dredger to… ” He brought his two fists together to mime a collision.
“You want us to crash our ships together?”
He clenched his jaw as he pictured it. “Slide that bad boy right into my southern port.”
“Now you want my ship to dock.” China leaned back and made sure to examine America incredulously. “Is this before or after you’ve destroyed it?”
America pursed his lips. This wasn’t working, so maybe it was time to change the strategy, speak another language. Money.
“I want you to export your steel into my… gaping …. trade deficit…”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” China said in an exasperated whisper.
No, it didn’t, but America was having a hard time thinking of a better economic-themed double entendre.
“Pound me with tariffs, daddy.”
“Are you crazy?”
Crazy for you, America wanted to say as he traced with his eyes the outline of China’s pert pectorals underneath that silk shirt.
“China, please, I need you to exert hard power through my back channel.”
“I only believe in soft power.”
America sunk into his chair. He now had two options, leave or really up the ante. He thought of slightly bending over the table, sticking his bum out just a little to tease and playfully inviting China to recreate Red Dawn in his nether regions. No, that was too undignified.
America stood up to leave. “Maybe this was a bad idea. I’m just gonna… scoot on out.”
But just as he turned, he felt China’s strong hand take hold of his wrist, stopping him.
“America, please.” There was that charming smile, almost apologetic. “I knew what you were trying to say, I was just teasing you.”
America’s inner goddess started to doing The Worm as his cheeks went red. “Y-Yeah?”
China stood up, tenderly holding America’s hand in his own, and closed the distance between them. America felt intoxicated by the aroma of the other’s cologne, which was never quite strong enough to drown out the smell of cigarettes.
Then China said in a husky whisper, “You’re ready for dessert, aren’t you?”
America’s heart was throbbing in his chest while something else throbbed in his pants. A rush of lightheadedness came over him when China slipped off his belt.
“Please, prepare your port for entry of a foreign vessel.”
America draped himself over the table, knocking plates and wine glasses to the ground, and stuck his ass out even farther than he had originally planned. A Chinese ship barreled through the ocean and was about to ram right up against his coastline when–
He woke up.
Lying on his back, sweating through the sheets, panting. It was like he’d waken up from a nightmare, only the real nightmare was that he had woken up. He swore with a heavy sigh. So close. So damn close.
Grumbling to himself, he rolled over on his side to pout. That’s when he felt a powerful arm wrap around his waist and a sultry Russian voice purr in his ear.
“Good morning, stud.” Her hand slipped lower. “My, someone had a fun dream.”
Well, she sure wasn’t China, but America sure should pretend.
Trump has been anti-China for much of his adult life. I don’t think that’s gone away. Maybe he loves shamelessly (and unprecedentedly) kissing Xi Jinping’s ass because he likes other authoritarians, or maybe because he wants to stay partially in China’s favor because we need their help regarding North Korea. Whatever it may be, Trump’s economic hatred for China is all but dead. Xi may be hot, but he’s not hotter than the dollar sign. It’s pretty clear that there actually won’t be any substantive or sustainable progress in US-China relations with Trump at the helm.
I used one of SakuraLeon’s Sims 4 posesets as a reference for the featured image.