Date: Sat, 01 Jan 2005 08:28:09 +0800 From: Kevin Lu Subject: New Year Run-In Note: This mostly-fictional story is intended for adults. It is erotic in nature. If you are underage, you are advised not to read this (or at least not get caught). If you are offended by male/male adult/youth intimacy, I suppose you would be revolted enough now that I mention it so as not to read any further. This story is copyrighted by the author. So much as placing this story on a commercial website or distributing it without the author's permission is a violation of that copyright (but I'll forgive you). Comments, questions, constructive critisism and other intellectual bric- a-brac can be mailed to gandharva_pipa@hotmail.com. ------------------------------------ It's half an hour past midnight, half an hour past the new year. I really do hate the Monsoon season. We don't get winter here in the tropical island of Singapore, but we do get something that seems as cold and probably just as miserable. It rains all day and the sky always seems choked with clouds and the sun is hidden away. Not to mention the damned constant icy wind. I had spent the entire afternoon of December 31st asleep in bed. Didn't leave the house at all, which is pretty normal, but I didn't usually feel so lerthagic. So I was naturally up and running a little late into the night. I had spent the early night, a little after dinner, largely in frustration. I didn't have enough silver wire to complete the necklace I was making. I would probably have to go down to the bead store tomorrow to buy more, that is, if they were open during the New year holiday. I would probably have to give them a call tomorrow to check. Not to mention school would be starting up again on the 3rd. Oh, right. I'm Kevin. Chinese, living in Singapore, just turned 18 in November and attending Art College, pursuing a diploma in Jewelry Design. You'd probably wonder if I was a girl or boy at first glance, because I guess I just have that kind of androgynous pretty-boy look, with fair skin, large, wet eyes, slender fingers, elegant movement and all the rest of it. I have hair cut in a sort of bowl style, with the fringe at my eyebrows or lower, but tapering down towards the back to cover the back of my neck. I am found typically wearing bohemian unisex clothing, not common at all in the mechanized culture of Singapore. Some people do also wonder about my nationality, even when I am dressing like everyone else. I get lots of 'Indonesian Chinese' comments, 'Thai', 'Nepalese' and, oddly enough, a few 'Japanese' ones too. I have, well, some homosexual tendencies, but I like to keep up the iceburg front. Don't socialise much. No clubbing either. Thus, I have been happily single and not been laid for quite a long time. Plus, no one had ever managed to stay committed beyond a few months. And yes, I get addressed as 'Miss' by accident alot, and have had my fair share of being directed to the Ladies' by kindly ignorant gentlemen. Anyway, back to that crap about my Miserable New Year, it was now about a little past 12am. I was kind of oblivious to the relevance of this moment to the few-hundred people at the great countdown, because I was kind of in a mental block. It was more than kind of too cold to bathe, but I still kind of had to at least wash my face. But I was not really in the mood. And I was not exactly thrilled at the idea of sleeping just yet. My mom was ill in her room, coughing in bed. But then I decided to invent my own, more homely celebration of this New Year. I forced myself to wash up and, feeling more boyish at the moment, put on a pair of white denim shorts, slung on a belt from which hung my trusty velvet pouch of tumblestones, put on a ice blue sleeveless which was too flappyish but not quite low enough to adequately cover my exposed midsection, pocketed my handphone and wallet, left the table lamp in my room on and went down to the petrol station minimart, thinking to bring up some goodies i could enjoy back at the condo apartment while letting the cats do their regular nocturnal roaming of the corridor for a good half-hour. I also took note to bring up some tea for my ailing mom to enjoy in the morning. I am quite aware that skimpy clothing (what some friends jokingly call 'boywhore clothing', though currently not at its worst) such as I was wearing now would not cover me up much from the cold, but I decided to enjoy the icy breeze, the way I used to when i was at a chalet with friends, sitting at the beach at midnight. So I arrived at the station, after avoiding some puddles along the way and stuff. So here i am at the minimart. I was picking out two cans of tea. Processing...eww, but I had no choice, all the teabags had been given away or used up, and I had not foreseen the flu season. I decided to get one of the Deli sandwiches. I love eating those while supervising the cats on their nightly prowl. The counter girl was complaining to some other customer about someone jumping the queue. I also looked around at some instant noodles. I am somewhat a nature-boy but I like the occasional dose of MSG. Around this time, I hear a motorcycle pull up outside. Then this guy, seemingly in his mid-30s, comes in. I had my back turned to him and i was facing the fridge but I could tell from his footsteps that he had a gruff personality, was tired, and probably had a bit of a tendency to slouch. He came right up to the fridge department and had a look over some of those beerbottles. Or at least was pretending to. Something was amiss. I could feel it, smell it. He was interested in me. So, as my typical defensive mesurement, I looked over and had a quick once-over, sizing him up. His height more than made up for his slouch, as he was still well over my 169cm, Chinese, dark tan, with a roundish but rugged face that I found quite cute, and short wet hair that was up in spikes. He probably had-had his helmet on for quite some time. He had the usual cumbersome-looking windbreaker, which gave little clue to his build, but I dare say he was quite broad, definitely not slim, though I couldn't tell if he was muscular or chubby. Either way, however, he would be quite a sexy fellow. I looked back at the instant noodles section. I wasn't really fond of humouring men with too-frequent glances. And I really was more interested in instant noodles. I squatted down to get a good look at some of the labels on those little abominations in styrofoam bowls, and I could feel him burn the skin on my shoulders with an especially long leer. I felt my ears turn pink at the tips. I looked back and up at him, and he smiled. One of those smiles that strove to hide lustful desire behind a friendly grin of adknowledgement. I smiled, if a little uncertainly, back at him, then turned my attention back to the damn instant noodles. I put 2 of them into the metal basket, along with the tea, and felt him come up to me slowly. I ignored him. I wasn't going to be so easy. I started to get up, and as i did, I felt his hand on my shoulder. It was cool and firm. Apparently he was not easily felled either. I stood up completely and turned around to look at him. I smiled sweetly, opened my mouth and said in a slight voice, "Can I help you?" He smiled back, this time making no effort to conceal his desire, and replied, "Yes, you could give me your number." I was impressed at how up-front he was, but just smiled and backed away a little, pretending to wander off. This gave me the oppotunity to survey the rest of the mart. Only one other customer was around, at the far end from where we were, and no one was watching or even aware. He caught up with me. He had decided to play along. Then he did something that really bowled me over. He held me gently by the exposed part of my waist, pulled me back until out bodies made contact. My erection strained against my shorts, and in spite of myself, I felt my will beginning to succumb. I decided to reward him for his efforts, and ground my behind into his khaki-covered crotch. He was delighted, and I could feel his hardon push through the fabric of both our clothes with all its might to graze my bumcrack. "Mm, I like that baby. You got a sexy little body, 'hun. You gonna let me play with it?" He whispered in my ear while his right hand slid down my front to grope up inside my shorts and rub my thigh, in the area just below my boy testicles. I was enjoying all this flirting and intimate contact with a total stranger, but I also wanted commitment. I couldn't see any of it in him at the moment so I wouldn't be letting him go further than this. In fact, he had crossed the line long ago, the moment he had touched me. I had to remain in control. I backed off and looked at him. He cocked his head and looked at me as if to prompt me for a response. I just shook my head slowly, smiling in a way that almost may have seemed like I was tsk-tsking. I could see his shoulders droop in disappointment, but he tried again. As i moved off, his right hand caught me around the waist again and sweeped me back into his arms. He looked at me in the eye and said, "Aww, come one lah...I just want some fun with your cute body. What you want in return? Money? I can give." If I was feeling mean, I fancied I could have slapped him at that point and tell him to fuck off. But I am not a usually violent person. So I just told him squarely, "I'm not interested in money." "Then what you want?" "I want your heart." He clearly hesitated, and looked away to ponder his dilemma. Now he knew I wanted commitment, what was he going to do? If he was willing, then well and good. If not, then it was indeed a pity, but whatever. If he lied, I would know and he would never get me. He looked at me. Looked away again. I noticed he still hadn't let go of me. I decided to hurry him up a bit by breaking off. I tried, but he remain fastened around me and i couldn't get away. He was, however, aware of my attempt to break off. He looked at me, then sighed, and said, "Ok." "You're bluffing." I said, trying hard to stifle a giggle, and forced myself free. He grabbed me by the arm, and kneeled down to bring his face level to my waist. He rubbed his cheek against my groin and bare flesh, while one hand rubbed over my bum and the other tried to grope under my shorts. I couldn't help but place my hands on his head. He had changed suddenly. The tough playboy exterior was gone, now his administrations on my body were, though erotic, also affectionate. He wasn't the tough, horny, one-night-stand guy he was earlier. I clearly was more than a sexual attraction. Maybe i reminded him of someone he adored, but he wasn't willing to admit it. Or maybe it was another trick. I was beginning to get nervous at our openly-displayed intimate flirting in this public place and was sure someone had seen by now so I decided to push him away gently, but firmly, picked up my things and went to the payment counter. After paying, I picked up my plastic bag and prepared to leave. I was outside when he suddenly ran up to me and presented me with another plastic bag. "Boy, you forgot this." I looked inside. There was my Deli. I almost died of shame. But I looked up at him and forced a smile. He smiled back, warmly this time, and presented me with his handphone. I couldn't help but feel a long-dead warmth rise up inside me and make me glow as I (finally) keyed in my number. I typed in my name and showed it to him before i saved it, so all the information was presented at once. He smiled and hit the save button. Then he produced a slip of torn paper with something written on it, presumably written while i was keying in my number and name. He slipped it into my back pocket, then conveniently patted my firm bottom where he had slipped the paper in. He bent down and kissed me on the lips. I was temporarily shocked at his brazen move, but melted in his lips, and our tongues caressed each other, his with the taste of booze, and mine of toothpaste. He broke it off and straightened up, smiled and patted me on the stomach and was off. I stood there for awhile, to watch him drive his motorcycle off. I took out the paper, on which was his number, alongside 'Tommy'. I noticed a cockroach crawl onto the pavement out of the corner of my eye, and decided to quickly get on back home. That was some ice-breaker. It would give me something to fantasize about in my masturbation sessions for a good while...or at least until more fantasy material came along. **** Monday i was back at school. It certainly was a good feeling. I got to catch up with the friends i hadn't met during the holidays, and since it was only the first week, the projects hadn't quite started pouring in yet. I had saved Tommy's number into my phone, but hadn't called him. I was going to wait him out. I did get a few serenades by SMS from him, and I did give affectionate, if not flirty, replies, but no appointment yet. Thursday was my off-day, as usual, I had no plans...until he called Wednesday night. He asked when i would be free to meet. I told him i was off on Thursdays, which seemed to delight him. He arranged for lunch the next day as well as a meeting time and the place, well, where else but the station. I dressed in my bohemian attire, an embroided orange and green vest and jeans, to meet him, which naturally made it a little hard to recognize me when he arrived, quite on time. He was in a white Mercedes car with a Polo shirt. He must be rich, to own both a luxury car and a motorbike. He wound down the window and spotted me after looking my way a few times, then waved. I smiled and walked up to his car and got in. "You dress up for me today, ah?" "No, this is how I usually dress." He smiled and I put the belt on. We drove off and he kept his eye on the road, managing to keep his hands off me, so far. I was beginning to miss them on me already. Now i could clearly see he was fairly muscular and gymfit. I felt quite dreamy at that moment. "Where are we going for lunch?" I enquired. "Holland Village, then we'll go to my place for awhile." "Where do you live?" I asked, after a pause. "Clementi." Another pause, then suddenly he said, "You like going to HV, right?" I was caught by surprise. I did indeed like going to Holland Village. I meekly replied with, "yes." He smiled, though still focusing on the windshield, and said, "I've seen you there before, a few times." "I often go to the bead shop there to get supplies." "Ah." I smiled to myself, not noticing that we had stopped at a traffic junction. Then I notcied he was smiling at me. I looked down in embarressment, all poise having been lost, but he reached out and held me by the chin, a gesture I greatly appreciated from past boy and manfriends, one that had lost none of its appeal. He continued to smile and his hand wandered to cup my cheek, then his thumb brushed over my lips. "You've got beautiful eyes." He said. I smiled, and decided to tease him a little. I opened my mouth and grasped his thumb, swirling my tongue around it and sucking it a little, letting my teeth grind gently over it. He laughed and withdrew his hand and patted my stomach, then felt my denim-covered thigh. "My naughty boy also has a pretty mouth." he said, as he accelerated again. "And I wonder what you are going to put in it." I teased. I could see his cock strain momentarily as he tried to concentrate on the road. Lunch was awkward, at least on my part. I would have contended myself with the hawker centre, but he turned the other way and we ended up at Swensens. I tried to offer to pay for my share but naturally, he declined. There weren't many people, and I eventually relaxed and caught his glance many a time during the meal, and before paying we made small chitchat, inter-mingled with long gazes into each other's eyes. I suddenly became very conscious that we might have been an obvious couple, but I wasn't uncomfortable for long, strangely enough. I felt safe in the company of this strong man. We backtracked to Clementi. I then found that I was right. He was indeed rather rich. He lived in a bungalow on his own, and seemed pretty self- sufficent. He let me explore a little and went into the kitchen to fix a drink for himself, and i just asked for water. His hall was furnished with a carpet and contemporary furniture, all of neutral colours, with the odd painting or bronze sculpture here and there. He had taken an interest back at Swensen's when I mentioned that I was in Art School. I kept to the hall, since it was rude to snoop around in the other, more private rooms. I noticed pictures of what seemed like his family. There was an adult woman in some of the photos, presumably his wife, and other pictures were of him with a young girl, up till the early teenage years. I suppose she could have been his daughter. But the wife and daughter were never together in the photos. Which raised a few questions in me. He was out of the kitchen, now, topless, and I saw him in half his muscular glory. He had been working out, quite apparently. Now he only wore boxers. It was obviously routine for him and my presence didn't make a difference. He smiled, and we sat down, to drink and talk a bit more. I now took a good look at his ring finger, and there it was, a gold wedding band. I smelt the water, as i often do. I love the smell of water, fresh and hydrating. He joked that I was suspicious of him drugging the drink, and i giggled. I asked him what he did for a job. I am hardly ever able to grasp technical information concerning work easily, but I did grasp that he was a successful businessman of sorts, and being single, he could spend all the money on himself. I decided to ask the question. "Who are those people in the photos?" He smiled, a little sadly, and proceeded to tell me his life-story. He said that he had always been gay, and a boylover on top of that. He tried to deny it and always focused on working out and sports to keep the thoughts out. Then he met his wife, the only women he ever felt a lover towards, and they conceived a daughter, but some mishap caused her to die shortly after childbirth, and he raised his daughter alone, until the car-accident. After that he started drinking more than he used to. Although he was usually careful to keep in control, on certain nights he just had to drown out his despair. And after that, he became more open about his sexual preference. He had many one-night stands with take- homes from bars, and when abroad he indulged in male prostitution. At this point, he tried to lighten up by jokingly reassuring me that he went for regular checkups and used condoms so he was clean. I just smiled, but his attempt to lighten up his mood failed, and he slumped back... Carrying on, He also developed an interest in art as a means of escape as well as an attempt to understand a deeper meaning in life. I listened on and when he drew to a close, I felt more comfortable with him, now that i was more familiar with the story behind it all. I scooted over to him, now that he was slumped back with a faraway look in his eyes. I leaned over and lay my head over his chest, and my hand stroking the stubble on his face. "Did you take interest in me because I reminded you of them?" He said nothing, but looked down and smiled at me. I got up and sat on his lap. It had begun to rain outside. I kissed him gently. He held my shoulder and the base of my spine as he returned the kiss, affectionately, than slowly more passionately. He tried to undo my vest, slowly unbuttoning one by one, than he pulled it off. Our kisses were growing more passionate, but we maintained the slow pace, so that we could make it last, and savour each moment. He undid my belt, a tricky bit, because I wear the buckle to my right, but he managed. And then he attacked my jeans with vigour. All the while we were kissing away, out tongues dueling, caressing the walls of each-other's mouths. Soon I was free of jeans and wore only my lilac bikini briefs. He lay me down onto to sofa, topped me and rubbed his crotch into mine. His hard man meat pocked out from the fly, and i pointed down, giggling. He smiled and pulled them off so i could see his package completely. Dense pubic hair, two good-sized balls nestled behind his magnificent 7 and a half inches of boy-pleasurer. I smiled and my eyes clouded as he lifted me to sitting position by my hairless underarms and tugged off my own bikinis, which were struggling to contain my 6 inches. I was, unlike him, uncircumcised, and my pubes were closely trimmed, which made him laugh. I blushed and he held me by the chin once more, and kissed me again. Then he made me stand up, and he covered my eyes with his hand. He led me slowly, telling me where we were going along the way, past the kitchen, then the study, into his master-bedroom, where he flopped me onto the King-sized bed and slowly lay himself on after me. I gave him a quick kiss and he lay on his back, arms propping up his head. I went down to his chest and rested my head on it, fingering his nipples. He moaned and asked me to give him a blowjob. I complied and scooted down to inspect my prize. His immensely suckable cock jutted out, with precum oozing out. I would have loved to see it form droplets, but it had been smudged somewhere along the line of our intimacy and I couldn't spare the time for another drop to form. I stuck my tongue out and touched the tip to his piss slit, drawing in some of the salty liquid. He moaned and told me how much he needed it, needed me. I slowly took the head into my mouth, with gentle suction, pressing the head against the roof of my mouth with my tongue, moving my tongue between the base of his exposed glans and his piss slit, then sliding further down to reach the shaft and take it down halfway, then sliiiiide out, to play around with the glans again, then mooooove down, further, nearing where this mighty pillar of flesh jutted out from the forest of pubes. He was all the while running his hands over my head and messing up my hair, while moaning away, "Yeah, baby boy, Suck my cock, ughhhh, play with the head. Ohhh, yeah you know how to make Tommy feel real gooooood...go on, sexy." I decided to thrill him more and while working on his, I still say, so perfecty suckable cock, I started fondling his testicles, stroking them with my thumb and gently squeezing them. He almost shattered the mirror nearby with his groans. He was getting close...closer...reallllly close... I didn't want it to end so soon, so i pulled off and looked across the landscape of skin that was his body and smiled at him. He got up and held me by the shoulders and kissed me again. He sucked some of the stray precum that littered my tongue bed, then went down to my chest and started sucking on my chest and nipples, which are my hotspot. i almost screamed at the intensity of the sensation, but could only manage a gasp. Then he got up and smiled, devilishly, and bit my ear. Then he whispered the instruction for a 69, and he lay back on the bed, I got over him, supporting myself on my hands and knees so that he would not have to bear my weight, and positioned my cock at his face, while i started back on his with the loving, erotic caress of my tongue. I almost stopped when he took mine into his mouth. He was not so experienced, since I guess he was used to being top, but he tried hard, sometimes it even caused me pain, but i bore it all in silence to make him happy. Then he pulled himself off my straining boycock. I could feel it slick with precum and saliva. He then used some of that mixure and applied it on the fingers of his left hand. He continued to masturbate me with his right hand, but his left hand's fingers started to push at my boypussy and slowly, but surely, made their way in. It hurt, it fact, it hurt like hell. I tried to relax and slacken by pushing like I had learned from the erotic stories i read, but it was hard, I tried not to scream, almost bit into his precious meat. I tried to direct my concentration on sucking his cock, concentrated on making him feel good, so that he wouldn't notice my discomfort, because i loved him so damn much. But he loved me too, and lovers notice these things, and he withdrew, waited until I relaxed, then tried again. I still hurt, but not as much, and he risked two fingers, pushing in deeper, while still masturbating me slowly. I relaxed a little easier now, then he hit my prostate and I moaned, even with my mouth jammed full of his boystretcher cock. It felt good! My own cock strained harder for attention, since he had slackened off to concentrate on my boyhole. He started masturbating me again, this time with regular hitting of my prostate, and it was too much. I pulled off his cock to prevent myself biting it and gasp, then gritted my teeth and pushed my butt back in the intensity of the climax, which made me squirt my fresh boyjuice far and wide, all over his stomach and his groin. He continued to milk my cock, squeezing my testicles gently as more of my young liquid got extracted. Then I, in a blur of passion, dove back on his cock and sucked up and down furiously, swirling my tongue all over the head, and squeezing his man-sized balls. He groaned and I felt his testicles pulse, as did his cock. I love that feeling, the feeling of a cock in your mouth, as the blood causes it to expand and contract in your mouth with the spasms of orgasmic pleasure. And the perfect final touch to this pulse is that it is accompanied with the pumping of pure masculine semen down your throat, feeling the bitter liquid slide down your throat as you swallow it as fast as you can to avoid tasting it, and what's left splashes all over the interior of your mouth. Everytime a man pumps his semen into my throat, I feel taken, in my own special way. Since I do not do anal sex, I feel this is my means of submitting to a man. It's like swallowing the mark of that man, and the act is like that of the man branding you with his label, because now his signature is in your body. After the last of the semen has been emptied down my young, obliging gullet. I do not let the cock go free just like that. I don't know if many males know this, but the penis' pulse of orgasm continues a good while after ejaculation. So I the both of us calm down and heartbeat comes down to the normal frequency, I continue to suck on Tommy's cock, even after all the semen has been extracted, to track his pulse. And his manhood responds by continuing to pulse every other time I bob down, then every three times, then every four, then every 6, and then, eventually, it stops completely. I get up and lay next to him. He looks into my eyes, and both of our eyes are filled with tenderness and warmth. No more games in the petrol station, no more hidden feelings. He cuddled me in his arms and we had a short afternoon nap. It didn't start with a great New Year's Day, But it was a great new- year's week. ------------------------------------ The End ------------------------------------ Once again, comments, questions, constructive critisism and stuff can be mailed to gandharva_pipa@hotmail.com.