Date: Sun, 30 Aug 2020 20:58:42 +1000
From: Adrian Martin <masuk39@gmail.com>
Subject: A day at the beach in West Java - by masuk

At the Beach in West Java

After some months exploring the city and surrounds of Jakarta, I was keen
to get out and explore the countryside, as I am not a city lad. I enjoy
the beach, some bush-walking and looking into various cultures. My
Chinese boyfriend Roy, on the other hand, was much more of a
stay-at-home, and after some weeks, I was itching to get out of the
concrete jungle. Some of the other teachers had told me of the delights
of the coast and the helpful lads willing to share a weekend, for a fee,
so I took myself off to the beaches overlooking the ruins of Krakatua
volcano, West Java (unlike the film title, Krakatua is WEST of Java, not
East), and decided that there should be more of this.

The trip was slightly involved and meant travelling by large coach, then
changing to a smaller bus at a bus terminal, travelling about 30km to a
village depot and then getting an even smaller bus to get me near the
beach area. I had taken the precaution of checking on what I should pay
for fares, as these tend to be negotiable if you're a foreigner. So when
the conductor on the mid-size bus asked for about ten times the normal
fare, I explained in a loud voice that I didn't want to BUY the bus, just
travel for a short while. I had a banknote of close to the fare, and he
was nonplussed and even gave me some change back. Good try.

This was my first trip of many and there were a good choice of cheap
places to stay, and excellent seafood restaurants. The bars on the beach
had a few teachers away from the city, and there were the usual cute lads
hanging around, hoping for a free night, dinner and a bit of fun. As it
was a Friday, the weekenders had not yet arrived, so I had a good choice
and picked a room that was built for 12 people per room, with no beds,
just mattresses on the floor. At one of the beach side bars frequented by
ex-pat teachers over the weekends, a very handsome young guy approached
me and asked if we wanted to go back to my room, which we did.

He was a hardened case of "money up front", and obviously felt that I was
some rich tourist and money to burn. I countered his ransom demand with a
more realistic figure, which in his opinion was only worth ten minutes of
his valuable time, and after a bit of touching and feeling, he was out
the door, looking for richer pickings. The rest of the weekend was spent
lazing on the beach, admiring the lads as they sauntered past.

Roy was not too impressed with my travels, but after a week in the city
and the extreme pollution, noise and mosquitoes, I just had to get away
for weekends. The school owned house had been built in such an impossible
design, that it was almost useless putting up mosquito wire, so each
night was a battle of the skeeters. Then a few hours of peace, and then
the mosques wailing well before dawn, the banging of the food sellers
would start, tapping dishes with a spoon to advertise their wares. It was
good to get away as soon as possible each weekend.

After a few months Roy became interested in another teacher who had
arrived just after me. He told me he was tired of gay life but was soon
over at my friend's house. I didn't bear him any grudges, and we have
been in touch with each other ever since; I think he disliked my going
out so much. I loved to go to the beach for the weekends, and didn't like
being indoors at all. He would go to my friend's house Friday night, and
stay there all weekend, just sitting around and watching TV. Not my
scene. I'm surprised my friend put up with him for so long, but it no
doubt had some side-benefits.

So, my visits to the seaside increased. Mind you, when I was at the beach
on my own, there were some lovely guys to look at, but they were mostly
mid-teens, selling things to see them through school or college.
Schooling is `free', but in reality, everyone is on the make, and
teachers and headmasters all get a bit extra by charging for uniforms,
books, even stationery. The lads were mainly senior high school age or
early university, and in common with most West Javanese were very
handsome. They sold the usual sea-side junk food such as Coke, chips,
cigarettes and film and reported back to a guy in charge of the whole
operation. At night they usually slept under a table or on the beach and
washed in a small waterfall nearby, and then rugged up to keep the
mosquitoes off.

Over the months, I got to know a few of the guys and took a few out for a
meal at a seafood restaurant, but they had a good idea of what I'd like
for late supper, and didn't hang around, mainly as they were with a
couple of friends, and wouldn't admit to any gay interests even if
they'd had the urge.

However, there was one particularly cute young guy, Ali - probably 16 or
17 who I often bought my drinks from, and usually extras which I shared
with him. His family were poor farmers and he was hoping to go to
University soon, and was earning just enough to get through high school.
His father, an Indonesian rice farmer, wouldn't get a lot of money and
the cycle of education often stops at an early age. I invited Ali to
dinner a couple of times but didn't push him for any favours

Eventually my luck changed, and after a long day at the beach, I wandered
back to my hotel room which was all of five minutes from the sea, and
down the brick path to my room, which was surrounded by shrubs and bush
behind. Much to my surprise, Ali stepped out from behind some shrubs and
gave me a big smile. He'd obviously seen me heading back, made a
short-cut and was waiting for me, away from prying eyes. I asked him up
to my room, not expecting him to follow me, but he came up and put his
tray of films and goodies down. I wasn't going to push my luck and was
quite happy to have him join me for a meal, if nothing else. He
disappeared into the bathroom and after a good deal of splashing in the
bak mandi, was soon out, gleaming all over. (Like most Asians, a
delightfully cool way of washing is to use a plastic ladle and pour cold
water from a tiled water tank over yourself. You only use the water you
need, and the tank slowly fills from a small tap ready for the next
user.)

I deliberately chose a restaurant away from the beach so that Ali's
friends wouldn't see him, and I made sure he had a large plate of
healthy grilled fish and veggies. After we'd eaten, we wandered back to
the hotel, and to be honest, I thought Ali would now collect his tray and
head off. But no, and to my amazement, he asked if he could sleep over. I
didn't need any convincing and told him to choose any of the six
mattresses laid out on the floor. My gear was on one, and he chose the
one next to me. The rooms were all well-netted against mosquitoes so at
least, the guy would be free of bloodsuckers for one night, as they were
ravenous outside.

So I modestly went into the bathroom and changed into some tattered
shorts I used to sleep in, and Ali dropped his jeans and lay down on the
mattress. Again, I wasn't going to push myself onto this lad, but when I
got onto my mattress, he scrabbled over and lay next to me, and of
course, I realised that the night might not be as solitary as
anticipated.

I turned around facing Ali, and gave him a gentle hug, and he had his
arms around me, and we then started to kiss. I don't know if this was a
first for him, or maybe he'd practiced with his friends, but he knew
what he was doing, and as we kissed, our cocks rose together and were
soon rubbing and grinding together. I went over to the door and checked
that it was locked and also turned the light out -- no bed lamps in this
one-star joint. I fumbled my way back onto the mattresses, and into
Ali's waiting arms, where we did some more kissing and hugging. I felt
down and squeezed his hard cock, and Ali did the same to me.

Then he scooted up the bed with his back against the wall and pulled down
his last item of clothing, leaving his cock upstanding, and Ali gently
put his hand behind my head and pushed me down towards what the
Indonesians call "adik kecil" -- little brother.

I gave him a few tentative licks, and then put my lips around his cock
and went down as far as I could. He was not all that big, and my nose was
soon into his curly black pubes. Being a native Muslim Indonesian, he was
cut, and I only regretted that it was dark and couldn't see what I was
enjoying. Ali was gently moaning to himself and seemed to be enjoying
what was happening. Whether he had done this before or not, I didn't
know, but he didn't last long.

He suddenly started bucking into my mouth and his moans grew louder --
and then he stopped -- the calm before the storm, as he gave one long
moan and his juice shot into my mouth. It wasn't a lot, but it was
pleasantly sweet, and I savoured this as he slowly sank back onto the
mattress. We didn't do any cum swapping or cum kisses; I was happy just
to hold him close to me and feel his once hard cock slowly wilt.

I went to the bathroom and had a quick rinse and back into bed. Ali
reached over and started pumping my little brother with his hand, and I
soon shot a large load over my stomach, and then another trip to the
bathroom to rinse off. On my return, Ali spooned up next to me, and in
the moist tropic air, we slept with nothing on -- no sheet, no clothes.
Just his flaccid cock against my back and we slept the sleep of angels
with a slow fan whirling overhead.

We rose early as folk do in this climate, and Ali washed and dressed and
prepared for another day on the hot beach. I offered him some money, but
he made it clear that he didn't do what we did for money. I was happy
that he was not the usual rent-boy but asked him to take something to use
for school costs, which he did.

Sadly, we didn't couple up again, but a few weeks later and back at the
beach, a mutual friend of ours started hitting on me, but I wasn't
really interested. Ali had obviously talked to someone and nice as his
friend was, I really wanted Ali.


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