Date: Sun, 27 Aug 2017 17:41:00 +0000 (UTC) From: Peter Brown Subject: Lion-King Chapter 14 Lion-King by badboi666 =============================================================================== If sex with boys isn't your thing, go away. If, as is much more likely, you've come to this site precisely to get your rocks off reading about sex with fresh young lads then make yourself comfortable - you're in the right place. Don't leave, however, without doing this: Donate to Nifty - these buggers may do it for love but they still have to eat. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html =============================================================================== Chapter 14 Every five years we have a special holiday to mark our relationship. I've already described the long cruise we had in 10 years' time for our Silver Anniversary in 1997. This year - 31 August 1987 - we were abroad, but not on our anniversary date of 1 July because Leo had a major thing on at work which meant he wouldn't be free to take a month off until the middle of August. We'd been in Tangier in June, but only for a week, so we decided on somewhere quite different. Different, that is, geographically. In important matters like the ready availability of boys it was much the same. Thailand. AIDS was rampant still then. We'd been incredibly lucky, principally because we'd not had sex with anyone else (boys, of course, excepted) since 1972, but also because very few of our friends had been affected. In fact we knew of only two men who had died, each of them the partner of someone we knew much better. That didn't make the scourge any easier to deal with, but at least we were relaxed about how it might affect us. We chose Thailand because we had no interest in finding men, and a gay couple like us visiting somewhere like San Francisco would have found it hard to avoid such contact. We chose a little resort near Phuket which had been recommended to us by a like-minded gay friend. "The boys," he had said, "are to die for." By 31 August we had been there for 3 days. We had a beach-front bungalow in a resort of a dozen similar buildings strung out for a mile or so along the beach, six on one side of a central hotel-cum-bar building and six on the other. We preferred the relative seclusion of the bungalow, but used the hotel for meals most of the time. Each bungalow was far enough away from its neighbours to be safe from observation - no doubt the resort was designed this way. As far as we could tell most of the other guests were gay, mainly from Europe. We got chatting in the bar, as you do, and soon found that we were the only ones seeking boys: most of the other guests were after Thai men a good ten years older than we were after. Our specialized tastes didn't seem to bother anyone, and all were pleased that we weren't providing competition. We were happy to relax on the beach for the first couple of days. Leo had been working 12 hours a day on this project at work, and he was knackered. By the third day we thought we might as well see what the resort had to offer by way of pleasure, and we wondered where the 'boys to die for' were to be found - there had been no sign of any young boys at all so far. When in doubt, ask. Whom to ask but a barman: they know everything. In the hotel bar at lunchtime there were about half a dozen guys - couples mainly (although not the same pairings as we had noticed when we first arrived) - and no-one sitting at the bar itself. This meant that we could chat to the barman - a nice Thai guy of about 25. Doubtless he would be available in a place like this, and his availability would surely include the ability to introduce other lads to the well-heeled Europeans. Business would be concluded to the satisfaction of all, not least the barman who would doubtless be well rewarded with a finder's fee. We weren't new to this kind of thing. It was simplicity itself. I chatted to Chai - the barman - about the resort: how long had it been there, was there a village nearby, that sort of thing. There was a village, it turned out, about a mile and a half inland, and this was where he, and most of the other staff, lived. I said that we had been recommended to come because a friend of ours from England had had a very pleasant time with a Thai he had met here - a remark I made with a complicit grin. Chai grinned. "That is good. Thai men are very friendly with our visitors. Perhaps I can introduce you to one?" "Chai, that's good to know. However our friend from England did not meet a Thai man. Are there perhaps Thai boys who would like to friendly?" Chai grinned widely. "Of course," he said, "That men like that learn to be friendly because Europeans who like Thai boys show them the ways of friendliness." This was all very courteous, I thought. Would Chai know of a boy who might wish to show these Englishmen the Thai ways of friendliness? Indeed he would, and an arrangement was made that a suitable boy would call upon us that evening at sundown. All Chai needed to know was the age of the boy we would most like to be friendly with. I didn't need to consult Leo as I knew perfectly well that his tastes and mine were the same. A boy of 13 or 14 would be perfect, I said. Chai and I shook hands, the 100 baht note being quickly exchanged as we did so. By sundown we were getting rather excited. In the past we have chosen the boys with whom we would exchange friendship - oh, stop it, Rex - the boys we wanted to fuck, by seeing them, thinking they were both desirable and available, engaging them in conversation, then bedding them if they were happy to be bedded. This was the first time that we'd used an agency, so to speak, and bought without seeing the goods. Still, Chai had a reputation to keep up, and in my experience (gained BL - Before Leo - and not put into practice since) people like Chai were generally reliable in delivering introductions. There was a light tap on the door. I opened it to find a lovely boy standing there, a flower in his hand. He smiled and I invited him in. He smiled at Leo and, judging me to be the older, gave me the flower with a little bow of his head. "I am Niran," he said, "and I will be your friend." I said that I was Rex, and introduced Leo. We both gave a little bow of our heads to Niran who burst into peals of laughter (always a good sign in my book). I put the flower on the pillow: I reckon it showed enthusiasm on my part. I asked Niran why he had laughed and he explained that men do not bow to boys: it was undignified, but he had enjoyed being bowed to. There was a whole lot I hoped he would enjoy coming his way, much of it highly undignified. Niran was clearly fully informed about the likely nature of his duties in the friendliness department, and I wondered whether Chai had briefed him. An hour later I would not have wondered in this way: Chai knew that only a skilled and experienced worker would satisfy the English men. Leo and I sat on the sofa with Niran snuggled in between us. We were wearing sarongs, as much for coolness as for the availability of our cocks, and Niran was wearing very short shorts and a t-shirt. He lost the shirt before sitting down, I'm glad to say. His brown body was a delight. You've worked out by now, I guess, that slim brown bodies are what I look for in this area, and Niran's was lovely to look at. Not scrawny, but just as a boy should be: lithe, muscles in the right places, no hair, long legs going all the way up to ... well, we'd find out soon enough. The very short shorts were still adorning his body. Leo brought us three chilled glasses of fruit juice and the three of us set about developing the friendship of which we had heard so much. Leo stroked Niran's nipples. Niran liked that. I stroked the back of his neck and tickled the soft soft skin behind his ears. Niran liked that too, as did something inside the very short shorts. "Ah!" he said, "these must go," and with a shimmy of his arse the very short shorts were shaken down to his feet and kicked across the room. Niran's cock was free to become friendly. It was a nice cock (aren't they all at that age?), uncut (he was a Buddhist, it turned out, and they very sensibly don't mutilate their young), 5 inches, balls tightly drawn up, hairless. I admired it, and told him he had a very nice cock. Would I like to taste it? Niran clearly believed that friendliness required him not only to take the initiative, but not to hang around. Ten seconds later I had Niran's cock in my mouth, licking all over it. One ball followed, then the other. Niran liked that. I took my lips off his cock and used my fingers to retract his foreskin. It was a little on the tight side, but my dint of a few tongue swipes we got there. A purple head, surprisingly large, flared. I licked it gently. Niran liked that. I was lying down on the sofa now and Niran was kneeling over me. I took his cock in again and decided to give him the Rex treatment. I took an arse cheek in each hand and drew them apart. Leo, watching, put some lube in my right hand, and I anointed Niran's arse crack. Niran liked that. Still busy with my tongue I cautiously inserted a finger, and was rewarded with Niran's pushing back against me. A second finger was what he wanted - good. In went a second finger. Niran like that. I glanced at Leo and gave him a questioning look. Leo, bless him, picked up on my meaning and said to Niran, "Another finger?" "Yesss," said the boy, squirming nicely under the rectal invasion. I rolled the two fingers round a bit - Niran liked that - and started to push the third in. I got as far as the second knuckle. Niran loved that, demonstrating the degree to which he loved it by cumming without warning - much the best way - into my mouth. I liked that. A good amount too. Salty, but very welcome. This was for swallowing, not sharing. Niran turned round and opened my sarong. His eyes widened on seeing the degree to which further friendliness might be a touch uncomfortable, but he was gracious enough to remark positively on the treat which lay in store for him. A cockney lad, and we've had a few of those, would have said something like "Fuck me, that's a whopper!" but Niran merely said "mmm, I like that, Rex" and proceeded to gobble me up. Niran got his mouthful refreshingly quickly. I liked that too. Niran turned out to have an inexhaustible appetite for friendliness. His arse welcomed Leo and, when he had had a little while to recover, it welcomed me as well. Not quite all of me, but a sufficient amount to ensure that a token - quite a decent token actually - of my friendship joined the very large (for it was his first) token left up there by Leo. By the time that our mutual friendships had been cemented it was very late. "Shouldn't you be home, Niran?" I asked. "Oh no," he said, "I am here as long as you are here, Rex." During the next fortnight Anglo-Thai friendship was cemented very liberally. Niran gave, and received, so much pleasure that it was a wrench to leave. Neither Leo nor I felt an emotional attachment to him beyond liking him and enjoying the treasures of his body, and I don't suppose for one minute that he felt anything an uncommercial as love for either of us. But friendliness - ah! now you're talking. Niran couldn't get enough. Before we left we gave him a present of 1000 baht - his eyes were out on stalks at such a sum, and he showed his thanks with further demonstrations of friendliness. This involved ... well, you can guess, I'm sure. We went to the bar to thank Chai. "Was Niran what you wanted?" he asked. I assured him that Niran left nothing to be desired. "Yes, good," replied Chai, "he is my brother and he is a very skilled boy, is he not? Did he tell you what his name - Niran - means?" He had not: we had never thought to ask. Chai grinned. "It means 'one who is everlasting and never-ending'." I liked that. =============================================================================== badboi666@btinternet.com is where you should sent comments and suggestions - always welcome!