Andy, the Amerasian Refugee
(From the series, "First Encounters of a Close Kind")
by Bill Fore  (b4@earthlink.net)

     Most of what happened in my first seventeen years was
indescribable, so I won't try... except:  I'm what's called an
"Amerasian."  My mother was a desperate and lonely young sixteen
year old Vietnamese girl who met and fell in love with a big black
American soldier while living in a little refugee encampment on the
outskirts of Saigon.  She told me that she had fallen in love with
a young G.I. medic named Cliff Johnson over the course of two
months while the war was raging only a few miles from them.  
     My mother's entire family had been killed in the Northern
provinces.  Mother had only been wounded.  She often showed me
the shrapnel scars on her shoulder.  She had run and walked many
miles with the other refugees and had come to live in the crowded,
squalid refugee encampment where I was born.  Like all good
young Vietnamese girls, she had carefully avoided contact with
American's, but somehow Cliff had come into her life while she
was getting medical attention and was very vulnerable.  He was
very handsome and very caring, she said, and had treated her
wounds, comforted her while she grieved over her family and given
her many little presents.  He had also planted his seed along the
way in what must have been a very weak moment in her life.  My
devastated mother was still only sixteen when I was born.
     Except for a slight oriental look to my eyes and cheekbones,
nothing about me looked Vietnamese.  My skin was very many
shades darker than the light cream-white oriental skin tone... kind
of a dark, golden bronze.  Also, I was taller and far more
muscular... surprisingly muscular for a person raised on an oriental
rice diet.  Because of constant hard work in the rice paddies and
having the right genetics, I was very brawny, broad shouldered and
narrow wasted.  There wasn't an ounce of fat on my body
anywhere.  As a teenager I'd grown to five-foot-ten, much taller
than a Vietnamese teenager.
     Vietnamese are far more open with each other than
Americans.  Nudity was a common part of my everyday life as I
grew up.  That's how I knew I was some kind of monster.  Asian
males usually have cocks in the four to six inch range when hard. 
Mine was at least a thicker-than-average eight and a half... almost
twice the normal Asian size.  Mother explained that my father was
very big, too.  The only difference, she said, was that he did not
have a foreskin and I did.

     Vietnamese hated Amerasians.
     My memories of growing up are filled with terror, hatred,
harassment, abuse of every conceivable kind, and unbelievable
struggle.  Girls would often look at me as if I was attractive, but
they never dared show it.  The same thing with Vietnamese men. 
I was often stared at as if being admired but outwardly I was
treated with clear hatred.
     Because of the hard life we lived I had very little sexual
feelings or desires.  I remember masturbating less than a dozen
times in my teenage years and hardly had any sexual fantasies.  I
had a lot of fantasies about being hugged and loved, but that never
happened with anyone except for my mother.  
     I was a virgin with girls.  However, I was raped by a
middle-aged male Vietnamese farm overseer near the rice paddies
one night when I was thirteen.  It was a bit painful, but there were
some positive aspects of the experience in my terror-filled life. 
Being touched by another naked body, and even being kissed in the
heat of passion was new and, in some ways, very wonderful.  The
man's penis was Asian medium (small), so the pain was minimal. 
When you live like my mother and I did, you try to find something
good in every situation.   
     I think it would have been better if my father had been
white, but being a half black - half Vietnamese child seemed to
elicit the worst hatred of all.  Mother said I was beautiful and that
it was jealousy.
     The U.S. had a program for bringing Amerasian children of
G.I.'s to America as citizens.  My mother knew I could never have
any kind of a life in Vietnam so she saved money for almost five
years, did everything to help me to learn as much English as
possible, got me to read books about America, and then tearfully
gave me up to a migrating Vietnamese family so that I could come
to "the States" and possibly find and live with my father.  We
never knew how far that dream was from reality.
     Parting with mother was a terrible sorrow.  After all, she
was the only person in the world that had ever loved me and given
me any tenderness.  My "adopting family" didn't care for me at all. 
I was just a part of their ruse to get to America... their ticket out
of Vietnam.  
     The almost three week crossing of the Pacific in the old
merchant ship was absolute hell.  There was little food and only a
small mat to sleep on.  Sometimes the heat and humidity was
almost too much to bear.  
     Leaving Vietnam didn't stop the terror in my life, either. 
By the time the merchant ship arrived in Los Angeles harbor the
father of the migrating family had forced me at knife point to suck
him off.  If that wasn't enough humiliation, I was then fucked by
him behind a hidden barricade under a stairwell on the ship's deck
three different times.  I didn't dare yell for help for fear that the
ship's crew would want to participate.  When it was over I didn't
retaliate because I didn't want to screw up my new life.  I parted
from my newly adopted family without a word just after clearing
customs.

     I'll never forget my first days in America.  We docked early
one summer morning two days before my eighteenth birthday.  The
first few Vietnamese people I met in the port area were not very
friendly, either... so I decided not to go to the place I'd heard about
in Southern California known as "little Saigon" where many of
them lived.  I felt truly alone in what was to me a very strange,
huge and intimidating country.  
     I had brought very little clothing and I quickly realized that
it was all the wrong kind.  Luckily, it was summer and warm so I
bought a pair of Levi 501's, a T-shirt, a light, cheap jacket, some
tennis shoes and some white sox at a discount store in Long Beach
near the port.   
     The guy who owned the store hovered over me as I changed
and complimented me on having a "wonderful body."  He had me
try on the Levi's in a smaller size so that I would look more
"sexy."  I thought he was going to try something more with me. 
It was clear he wanted to, but he had to keep the store open.  
     I carried my Vietnamese clothes in a bag for a few blocks
but then put them in a trash can.  Everything else I owned in the
whole world fit in a small overnight bag.
     One thing I noticed that first morning in America after
getting out of customs was that a lot of people seemed to look at
me.  Anyone who was not Vietnamese acted very friendly.  That
boosted my spirits a bit.  I found a small open front hamburger
stand and the woman at the counter again said that I was very
handsome.  When I told her I'd just come from Vietnam she said
I should be careful because many people around that area were gay. 
They would think I was selling my body by how I looked and
dressed and would want to take advantage of me.  
     We exchanged names.  "Shelly," she said.  I told her I was
"Deng" in Vietnamese, but my American nickname had always
been "Andy."  My passport said my official name was "Andrew
Deng Johnson."  Shelly complimented me on how I spoke English. 
No, she had no idea about how to get in touch with a soldier
named "Cliff Johnson."  "It's a big country, Andy.  He could be
two thousand miles from here... maybe married with lots of kids. 
Maybe his wife doesn't know he had a child in 'Nam, you know. 
Might be bad for both of you if you did find him."  I'd never
thought of that.   That dashed my hopes of having a loving father
to know.  My big dream was that I'd find him, then he'd send for
my mother and we would be a happy American family.
     Shelly patted my shoulder when I left.  I stopped and
smiled.  She gave me a little hug and said, "Good luck, Andy.  Be
careful."  When I took the change I counted all my money.  Thirty-
seven dollars and twenty-five cents.  That's what I had to my
name!
     I walked and walked, looking at the sights and the people.
I couldn't believe there were so many beautiful cars on the very
wide streets.  Also, from where I was I could see lots of beautiful,
tall buildings on the skyline.  
     I tried to figure out what I should do.  People seemed very
nice.  Many smiled.  At least I was experiencing no hatred.  I was
still hungry so I bought a big bowl of rice and some tea in a small
Chinese restaurant.  They were even nice to me.  It was the best
rice I'd ever tasted.
     That afternoon I walked to the big Queen Mary ship parked
in the harbor.  I just walked around outside and admired the huge
old vessel because there was a charge for going in.  
     After walking for hours I sat on a bench to rest.  A well
dressed business man soon sat on the bench, too.  "It's hot today,"
he said, wiping perspiration from his brow.  I agreed.  We slowly
began to talk.  I finally told him I'd just that morning arrived in
America.  He told me he was from Chicago and that he had just
finished a business conference at a big hotel nearby.
     He said he was thirsty.  He asked if I'd join him so we
walked to a fast food place and he bought me a hamburger and we
both had a coke.  I tried to pay for my food but he wouldn't let
me.  He took off his suit jacket and loosened his tie.  I thought he
seemed like a very nice, kind faced man.  He was light skinned
with thinning blond hair.  I was probably an inch taller than him. 
I guessed he was in his mid-forties.  We exchanged names... "Carl,"
"Andy."  
     Carl asked me a lot of questions about Vietnam and where
I'd learned to speak English so well.  I asked him if he knew a
black man named Cliff Johnson.  He, too, said it would be very
hard to find anyone, especially without a military serial number. 
Customs had provided a number when I received my American
passport, but they also said they couldn't trace it.
     Carl and I must have talked for two hours more, walking
sometimes, sitting on benches sometimes.  Carl asked where I was
staying.  I said I didn't know.  He was quiet for a few minutes. 
Then he stood up, smiled at me and motioned for me to follow
him.  We walked about a mile toward the city to a small, clean
street-side motel.  
     He got out his credit card and rented a room for five days. 
I was expecting that he would stay there, too, but when we got into
the room he said he was staying with his wife in a high rise hotel
a few blocks away and would be flying back to Chicago late the
next day.  He patted my shoulder and said he wanted to get the
room for me to help me get started in America.  I thanked him a
lot, shook his hand, and then we tentatively embraced for a
moment.  I got a little emotional.  It was wonderful to be cared for
and hugged.
     He laughed at me because I thought the little motel room
was beautiful.  He showed me how to get the air conditioner turned
on.  I discovered the bathroom and shower and mentioned that I
felt really dirty and needed to get cleaned up.  He took the room
key, told me to shower while he got some things, patted my
shoulder, and left.  It was the most wonderful shower I ever took
in my life.  In the preceding three weeks I'd only had what my
mother called "a bucket bath."  
     I may have enjoyed the shower too much because Carl was
back before I turned the water off.  He came to the open bathroom
door and watched while I dried myself.  For the third time that day
someone told me I was beautiful.
     Carl had gotten a toothbrush and some toothpaste, along
with some lotion and baby oil.  "When you get dry lay down on
the bed on your stomach and I'll put some lotion on you," Carl
said.  I brushed my teeth while he took a towel to lay over the bed. 
When I went in to the room he was taking off his tie.  "Lay on
your stomach, Andy, and I'll make you feel good."  The first thing
I thought of was my naked asshole sticking up for him to use in
payment for the room.  It didn't happen!
     Carl took off his shirt, sat beside me and put another towel
over his lap.  Slowly and tenderly he rubbed the soothing lotion all
over the backside of my body.  His touch was very soft. 
Sometimes he'd knead my muscles firmly, but then his touch
would become delicate... over my back, my sides, my feet, calves,
thighs, and finally over my asscheeks.  It was, by far, some of the
best touching I'd ever felt in my life and it awakened some sensual
feelings I'd never experienced before.  My penis was poking the
sheets under me, hard and throbbing.
     There was no attempt to enter my asshole.  Only one time
did a finger slip ever so slightly into my asscrack.  As he massaged
my back I'd hear his voice, very low.  He kept repeating things to
himself  like, "such beautiful silky skin... perfect body... not a mark
anywhere... splendid muscles... magnificent... magnificent."  I
didn't know what "magnificent" meant until some days later.
     When it was time for me to roll over Carl sucked in his
breath.  My penis was so hard it held itself up off my belly.  Our
eyes met, and then his drifted down.  He just looked at my body
and kept repeating, "magnificent... magnificent" under his breath. 
I looked at him more closely.  Warm blue eyes, a somewhat
muscular chest with fine blond hairs covering most of it, and some
muscles on his arms.  He still wore his suit pants.  For an
American businessman, Carl seemed to be in okay shape.
     He began massaging the oils into my chest... then my arms.
Everything was happening in slow motion and it felt very, very
wonderful and strangely erotic.  For the next thirty minutes he
massaged the front and sides of my body without touching my hard
penis and balls.  He continued to make comments, and I felt as if
I was being worshipped.
     My eyes were closed when I first felt the tentative contact
with lotion covered fingers and testicles.  My body naturally raised
from the bed for a moment.  The hands drifted away and then
returned.  It must have taken fifteen more minutes before Carl was
freely (and very lightly) massaging oil into my balls, my rock hard
lower stomach and the stem of my throbbing organ.  I'd spread my
legs a bit and his touch included a bit of the wonderfully sensitive
area under my dangling balls.  When I did open my eyes I noticed
that Carl was almost in a trance, his eyes locked on my midsection
and the areas he was touching.
     Slowly he pulled the foreskin back to fully reveal my tender
cockhead... and very slowly, as the other hand moved over the
other sensitive areas of my body, his right hand began to slide the
skin back and forth.  Sometimes his fingers would lightly trace the
veins on my cock, and sometimes he would grip the organ more
firmly.  His other hand slipped through my sparse pubic hair,
lightly touching the veins on my lower belly that ran directly to my
cock.  
     The sensations were too great and I had not delivered a load
in so long, I quickly and violently came... almost without warning. 
The powerful squirts splashed everywhere as my body thrashed in
the ecstasy of my first orgasm delivered by the hands of another
person.  Carl's hand continued to slowly pump my cock.  His body
seemed to be spasming also, but I didn't open my eyes to see what
was happening.
     After a few moments he began to use the extra towel to
wipe the cum from where it had landed.  I opened my eyes, his
met mine, and he smiled very warmly.  "You're magnificent,
Andy," he said.  When he got up from the side of the bed he held
the towel in front of him.  "Don't move, Andy.  Relax.  I'll come
back and wash you off better."
     Carl took so long in the bathroom that I fell asleep on the
wonderfully soft bed in, what was to me, a beautiful room.  I had
never before experienced the wonderful state of euphoria I was then
in.  When he came back he again sat beside my naked body.  I
awoke.  He'd removed his suit pants and was wrapped in a towel. 
He had a warm wash cloth in his hands.  He wiped off the dried
cum from my body like I was a Ming vase... very carefully and
tenderly.  Our eyes met and he smiled deeply.  "You hungry?"  I
hadn't even thought about food, even though I'd been hungry for
weeks.  I nodded.  
     He finished carefully wiping off the areas I had splattered,
set the washcloth down on the floor, and then leaned over me and
gave me a another tentative embrace.  I put my arms around his
naked shoulders to return the hug and we clung to each other for
many minutes... naked chest to naked chest, cheek to cheek.
     I had to take a leak.  In the bathroom I noticed that Carl
had washed his underwear and they were hanging from the shower
curtain rod to dry.  Also, his dress pants had a big wet spot on the
front and were drying also.  I knew he'd also blown a load.  I
heard Carl making a phone call.  "Hi, honey."  There was a pause. 
"Yeah, I'm sorry... this is the first chance I've had to call." 
Another pause.  "There's no way I can get out of this stupid
meeting, honey.  Too much at stake.  They're starting to drink...
might take 'til midnight or later."  
     I spoke English adequately, but I understood it better.  I
knew he was setting himself up to spend more time with me.  I
was happy.  I was feeling wonderful and strangely sexy, and I liked
Carl a lot.  It was wonderful to know that you really turned
someone on.  He wasn't trying to make me do anything I didn't
want to do.  In fact, he'd asked nothing for himself, which was
strange for me.  It was clear he not only was physically attracted
to me... he really liked me, too.
     Carl dried the spot on his pants with the motel hair dryer.
     We ate in a nice little Thai restaurant.  We had a corner
booth, and the service was wonderful.  He ordered.  I loved
everything.  It was different than any Vietnamese food I'd ever
had, and again the rice was fantastic.  I know you might think that
rice is rice, but to me there was a lot of difference in the taste
sometimes.  
     We talked a lot.  I told him the massage was fabulous.  He
actually asked me if I didn't mind that he'd touched my "beautiful
member."  I didn't understand, so he explained he'd meant cock. 
I laughed in surprise.  I then told him the only sex I'd experienced
had been when I'd been raped or been forced to suck someone.  I
told him that nobody had ever before just tried to make me feel
good without anything in return.  I thanked him.  
     He seemed shocked.  "You've never experienced receiving
oral sex?  Ah... I mean, you've never been sucked?"  I shook my
head.  It was quiet for a while before he asked to hear details of
the forced sex I'd experienced.  I gave him every detail he asked
for.  I even actually told him that parts of what had happened had
been pleasant.
     We talked about size.  Mostly cock size.  I said I'd felt like
a freak because all the other Asians were much smaller than me. 
He said I had the most beautiful "member" he'd ever seen.  He said
he loved my foreskin because he'd never had a chance to touch one
before.  After a pause he said he hadn't seen many erected
"member's" in his life because he'd been married for twenty years. 
He said he'd always been curious about other males.  Later I
learned that he had a sixteen year old daughter and a fourteen year
old son.
     We walked back to the motel room.  It was just about
sundown... a warm summer night about eight o'clock.  Back home
I'd still be working in the rice paddies with mother.  Carl seemed
hesitant about coming in.  Because I'd heard his phone call I was
expecting him to stay awhile.  In fact, I was looking forward to it
for some reason.  
     "You left your underwear in the bathroom, Carl."  He
grinned, embarrassed.  The motel room was warm.  Out of habit I
kicked off my shoes and sox at the door.  Carl said the weather
forecast for the next day was for very warm.  As he moved to the
bathroom to get his underwear I walked with him.  It was still
damp.  "While they dry I can put the oil on you, Carl,"  I said.  He
seemed a bit shocked and acted embarrassed again.  He patted my
shoulder.  "No... that's okay."  Our eyes met.  "Andy, my body is
not beautiful like yours."
 
     I initiated an embrace.  It got sensual.  We held each other
for a long time... hands slipping up and down backs over shirts,
shoulders, and finally over pants covered buns.  Carl was getting
steamed up again.  I was feeling very horny.
     I pulled off my t-shirt.  Carl looked at me.  I said, "It's
warm in here Carl... take off your shirt."  I helped him, and then
we moved back to the bed.  We still had our pants on.  I laid back
and he sat beside me, idly running his hand over my chest.  His
touch felt wonderful.  My cock began to get hard, making a big
lump in my pants he could easily see.  Carl touched my nipples
lightly and they began to harden, too.  My mother had often
touched my nipples. They were very sensitive.
     He smiled.  "Like that?"  I grinning and nodded.  I began
to touch the light soft fur on his chest.  It was quiet for a few
moments as we touched each other.  When Carl finally spoke he
sounded hoarse.  "Ah, Dolly... my wife... she, ah... she used to like
getting licked.  You know, ah... breasts, legs... ah, in between...
you know."  It was getting darker in the room.  I could barely see
Carl's eyes.  I turned on the bedside lamp.  I asked, "Did you like
it... doing it, I mean?"   Carl nodded.  "It's been a lot of years."
     In Vietnam one phrase we'd learned from the G.I.'s was, 
"Gotta take a leak!"  I said it and got up to drain my big straining
snake.  When I finished I pulled down my Levi's and left them
hanging in the bathroom.  Carl had laid back on the bed and had
his eyes closed.  I unbuckled his belt before he looked up and saw
I was naked.  "Too warm for clothes," I said.  His eyes locked on
my still hard "member."  I unzipped his zipper, went to his feet,
took off his shoes and sox, and then started pulling off his pants at
his ankles.  His hard, clipped six and a half incher came into view.
     Quickly Carl got up, stepped out of his pants and headed for
the bathroom.  At the door he turned, smiled, and held up a
finger... the international "one minute" sign.  I turned up the air
conditioner a notch, then laid back on the bed.  I heard the shower
running.  After a few moments I drifted off again. 
     Next thing I knew, Carl was laying beside me.  I slipped an
arm under his head and we snuggled again.  Our cocks had
softened, but now I felt his harden against my thigh as we cuddled. 
I would have kissed, but I didn't want to offend him and he didn't
try to kiss me... except on the cheek during our long embrace.
     After a while, as we clung to each other, he began to kiss
my cheek more often, then my shoulder, and then began to move
so that he could kiss my chest.  When I tried to reciprocate he
pushed me back.  Soon he was on his knees straddling my right leg
and was kissing my chest, finally finding my tender nipple.  He
worked over one until it was hard, then moved to the other.  I
looked down to see that his "member" was rock hard.  (Even now,
years later, that seems like a strange word for cock!)
     His tongue began to work over my navel, causing his chin
to brush against my straining cock.  Carl seemed almost feverish. 
He moved his mouth down to my thighs, then rather quickly went
to lick my balls, and then moved rapidly on to kiss and lick my
cock stem.  The sensations were awesome.  My cum was boiling
again.  
     Carl began to nibble on my foreskin, running his tongue
around my super sensitized cock head under the lip of the skin.  I
braced my body, my ass involuntarily raising off the bed.  The
feelings were incredible.  I began running my hands through the
sparse hair on his head.  I'm sure some Vietnamese words came
from my mouth.  My brain was far too occupied to try translations. 
He sensed what was coming and slipped his lips over the crown of
my straining prong.  I moaned loudly, my body instinctively
shuddered, and I blasted volley after volley of my cum into his
throat.  He didn't really have me very deeply into his mouth, but
it was enough so that not a drop was spilled anywhere.
     As Carl sucked me dry I noticed that my right thigh was
very damp.  I realized that it was the second time that day he'd lost
his load without even being touched.  
     I relaxed a bit as my body recovered from the wonderful
ecstasy of orgasm, but I never lost my throbbing eight and a half
inch uncut erection.  Also, Carl never stopped licking and sucking...
balls, inner thighs, under my balls almost to my asshole, then cock
stem, foreskin, and cock head.  His hands moved over my body as
much as possible, touching, tantalizing, making me feel extremely
passionate.  All of my nerve endings quickly reawakened.   
     He moved to kneel between my spread legs as he continued
his work.  For the next twenty or so minutes I writhed in total bliss
as Carl practiced his craft again on my excited lance and gonads. 
I could only run my hands over his head, shoulders and back.  If
I tried to reach for his cock he'd gently push me back.
     This time I wasn't so worked up and overloaded, so the
wonderful licking and sucking experience lasted much longer.  I
finally fed Carl another load of my jism.  There was probably less
quantity in this third explosion, but my body was racked with the
most violent spasms I'd ever experienced.  
     Again, Carl sucked me dry and then I pulled him up so that
we could lay side by side in a total body contact embrace.  We
kissed cheeks and stroked each other.  My mind was still active
when I noticed his hands had stopped moving over me and that he
had fallen asleep.  I continued stroking his back and ass for a
minute or two more before I, too, drifted off.
     The bedside clock said 1:14 when he woke up.  He
panicked, quickly kissed my cheek again, got up and dressed in the
bathroom.  He came back to the bed, leaned over and patted me. 
"Andy... I'll stop by about eleven-thirty or noon, okay.  That's
when my wife thinks I'm due at a meeting.  I'll cancel it so we can
be together again."  I reached up, pulled him down and embraced
him again.  "Thanks, Carl."  He lifted off me and looked me in the
eye.  "No, Andy... thank you!  I'll never forget this day as long as
I live."  
     He looked at me strangely for a moment.  "You have money
for breakfast?"  I nodded.  "I'm okay, Carl.  Thank you a lot for
the room."  He dressed quickly, then glanced at his watch.  "I hope
I'm not in trouble," he said.
     I followed him to the door.  We kissed on the cheek again. 
Carl's hands slipped over my buns and brushed my erection.  Our
eyes met.  He opened the door and slipped out.  I locked it, went
to the bathroom and took a leak.  There were five twenty dollar
bills on the edge of the wash basin.
     It was one of the most wonderful, peaceful nights in all of
my life.  
     I got up early and turned on the TV.  There was an exercise
show on one channel so I did what they did, working naked on the
floor in front of the set.  It was way too easy.  I pulled on my
pants and went running through the neighborhood for a few miles. 
I was surprised at how many other people were out running, too. 
It was an hour or two after sunrise and, even though I was only a
few blocks from the ocean, it was already beginning to get warm. 
Except for runners, there were very few other people out at just
after seven on a Friday morning.  In Saigon, everyone is on the
streets at that hour.
     A couple of other surprises hit me that morning.  I got some
tea and two big bowls of rice at the open front Chinese fast food
restaurant I'd been to the day before.  Everybody... the few
customers... even the Asians who worked there... all of them were
very friendly.  On the street I felt lots of kind eyes staring at me
because I was sweaty and shirtless.  If I looked at someone in the
eye they usually gave me a smile.  
     The biggest surprise that morning came when I returned to
the room a couple of hours later to find it cleaned, the bed made
with fresh sheets, and all fresh towels.  Nobody had ever cleaned
up after me before in my whole life.  It took Carl to later explain
that the beautiful room came with daily maid service.

     It was ten after twelve when Carl knocked on the door.  He
was again dressed in a full business suit and tie.  I had remained
naked after my shower and wrapped a towel around my middle to
answer the door.  When Carl got inside the door he dropped a
package he was carrying on the bed and gave me a big hug, kissing
me on the cheek very close to my mouth.  Our hands again roamed
as we pressed against each other for a long, long time.  When we
pulled apart I helped him take off his coat and tie.
     "Look, Andy... we don't have as much time together as I'd
like... I've got to leave in a few hours."  We sat side by side on the
bed.  He pulled the package into his lap.  "I got to thinking that
your jeans may be a little warm."  He opened the bag and started
pulling something out.  "You need something else to wear when
you wash the Levi's, so..."  He pulled some new clothes out of the
bag.  "I brought you these."  There were two colorful form fitting
tank tops... one bright yellow and one red, a pair of soft grey thin
flannel athletic cut shorts with slits on the sides, and a pair of white
Levi cut-off's.  A pack of athletic sox and a white bikini swim suit
also fell out of the bag.  I had a rough time with my emotions. 
Only my mother had cared as much, and she never had money to
buy anything.
     Carl made me try everything on, one item at a time.  He
seemed to forget that we didn't have much time.  As I modeled, he
"ooh'ed" and "ah'ed" over each item, checking the fit and showing
me what they looked like in front of the full-length closet mirror. 
I was impressed.  He certainly knew my waist size was a 28.  (He
said he'd checked the label on my Levi's.)
     We went to grab a quick lunch at a fast food place with me
wearing sneakers and sox, the grey shorts and the red tank top. 
Carl acted very proud of me and twice pointed out that people were
looking.  As we were finishing our food I said something about not
being able to repay him.  He got very serious.  "Oh, yes you can,
Andy."  I asked how. 
     He began to tell me that for twenty years he'd been
wondering what it would be like to experience anal sex.  He said
he'd been reading stories in little books he'd buy when his family
was away and had been dreaming about the experience ever since
we had met.
     I looked at him closely, not quite knowing what he was
talking about.  He leaned forward, his voice low and husky. 
"Andy... I don't have much time.  I need to go back to your room
with you and, ah... have sex.  I brought some condoms and
lubrication and I want you to, ah... how should I say it..."  He
paused, looked around to be sure he couldn't be heard, and then
leaned across the table and whispered,  "I want you to cum inside
of me."  For some reason I didn't expect it.  I was very surprised
and it must have shown.
     He got up from the table, so I did, too.  We were walking
back to the motel when he next spoke.  "Andy... if you don't want
to, I'll understand.  I would never do anything against your
wishes."  I felt like I couldn't express myself in English.  My mind
was flooded with all kinds of thoughts.  Nothing I'd ever been
asked to do before in my whole life depended on whether I wanted
to or not.  All I could say was, "I don't want to hurt you."  
     When we got in the room we embraced, this time more
sensually than we'd ever embraced before.  Carl excused himself
and went to the bathroom.  I heard the shower running.  I took off
my wonderfully sexy new red tank top and the shorts.  I looked at
my naked, lean, muscular bronze body in the mirror again and
wondered about what was going to happen.  Carl came out
wrapped in a towel.  He had something in a little jar and a pack of
condoms in his hand.  I went into the bathroom and brushed my
teeth.  
     Carl was laying on the bed still wrapped in the towel.  I
joined him and we hugged again.  His lips met mine for the first
time.  I had only very limited kissing experience, but I think I
learned quickly.  Our arms were wrapped around each other as
passions built.  Carl's towel came off and I directly touched his
hard "member" for the first time.  His body stiffened from my
touch and he kissed harder.  Our tongues began exploring each
other.  Lust was rapidly building in both of us.
     I really wanted to put my mouth on his cock.  He resisted
for a few moments.  Then he helped me shift to a side-by-side
sixty-nine position.  It was quick and wonderfully pleasant, like the
first course in a banquet.  I tried to do everything to him that he
was doing to me, licking balls, cock stem and all around the area...
and then slipping my lips down over his cock head as far as I
could.  His mouth was working wonders on my sensitive cock.  My
fluids began to surge.  I had no staying power.  I quickly came,
and a short time later, my mouth was filled with blast after blast of
Carl's hot cream.  I was surprised at the experience, even though
I had been forced to swallow cum before.  This time it was because
I wanted to, and this time it was wonderful.
     We embraced again and started deep kissing, swapping cum
in the process.  Carl reached behind him to the bedside table.  He
had the little jar in his hand and unscrewed the cap.  "I washed
really well in the shower, Andy.  Can you put some in me."  I was
only sure of what he meant when he moved to his back and raised
his legs.  He'd been so careful about displaying his body that his
movements were surprising.  I rubbed the very slippery stuff
around his ass hole and then slipped a well-lubed finger inside. 
His sphincter fought me for a moment.  Then he relaxed.  I slipped
the one finger in as deeply as I could and began so swirl it around
inside his rectum.
     He had been fondling my hard spear the whole time and
now began to open a condom.  I was kneeling beside him.  I leaned
back while he carefully and expertly installed it, pulling my
foreskin back before rolling it over my cock head and down the
stem.
     Carl was all business now.  He positioned me behind him
and raised his legs up in the air.  Some of the slippery stuff was
added to the condom, and then Carl's hand positioned my
throbbing cock at the entrance to his hot channel.  His sphincter
fought again, but Carl leaned back, grabbed my hips and pulled me
fully in to him.  "Ooof!"  I tried to pull out because of the moan
that escaped his lips.  Carl held me firmly, relaxed for a moment,
and then began using his hands on my hips to start a thrusting
motion.  There was even some beads of perspiration breaking out
on his forehead.  
     We were soon both completely overtaken by the lust of the
moment.  Sometimes, while on my knees behind him, I would raise
up my body and hold his legs in a wide spread "V" as I pounded
my cock into his tight ass hole.  Sometimes I would be on top of
him so that we could deeply kiss.
     His hands moved over my body, grasping my ass cheeks at
one point, then running his fingers frantically over my back and
thighs.  I had only been thrusting into Carl for a minute when I felt
his sphincter tighten and his body shake.  Quickly Carl's stomach
was covered with his hot cum, even though his cock was almost
totally soft.  His hands controlled the pace as I continued pounding
my cock deep into his incredibly hot, tight channel.  The sensations
were by far the wildest of my young life.
     I was nearing my own explosion when Carl slowed the
process.  For a few moments, while deeply embedded in his ass, I
collapsed on his sticky body and we again deeply french kissed for
a while.  That's the way it went for the next twenty minutes.  We
would kiss and hold each other, then begin again to furiously fuck. 
When it appeared I was about to orgasm, we'd again stop to kiss.
     Finally, I could hold out no longer.  We both chorused
words... mine, mostly in Vietnamese.  "Oh, God... fuck me, Andy,"
he would whisper.  Then, loudly, "Aaugh... give it to me."  Luckily
the loud hum of the air conditioner (I hoped) kept our noises from
being heard in the outside world.
     Carl's hands provided the impetus for the final thrusting as
my cock filled the straining shield with my load of cum.  I
collapsed on top of Carl and we just laid in deep embrace for a
time, both totally spent by the intensity of our love act.
     Carl had me keep the cum filled condom on as we headed
for the shower.  We washed each other for a few minutes before he
carefully slipped the sheath from my half-hard cock.  "I want to
keep this to remember you by, Andy," he said, as he carefully tied
the condom like a balloon.  We bathed each other until Carl's cock
was again at full staff and ready to duel with mine.  He kissed me
as we were rinsing off the suds.  "I'd love to stay with you forever,
Andy.  This had been the most exciting two days of my whole
life... but I've got to go."  Our embrace was filled with tears for a
minute or two before we composed ourselves.
     He dressed.  I dressed in a towel.  Carl carefully stowed the
used condom inside his coat pocket.  He promised to call me with
a private number he was going to set up so we could keep in
contact.  Then, we said our tearful goodbye's.
     I cried again after Carl left.  Slowly I began to recover and
think about the wonderful experiences we'd shared.  As I laid
naked on the crumpled bed I began to re-live the sensations of
being sucked for the first time in my life and fucking a man's tight
asshole with my big virgin cock.  My hand went to my randy
"member" and soon I covered myself again with another load of
spunk.  I was surprised at how much cum is available when
needed.

     That afternoon I decided to wash my Levi's, since I was
now using the grey split-side shorts Carl had bought me.  I found
8 fifty dollar bills stuffed into a pocket with a little slip of paper
that said, "I love you, Andy.  Thanks for everything."  I sat on the
edge of the bed and cried again... then counted my money.  I had
a beautiful free room (with maid service, even) for four more days
and five hundred and eighteen dollars in my pocket.  I'd never
been so wealthy in my life.
     I watched the TV for a little while.  I'd seen TV before, but
never with so many channels and so much to watch.  I had other
things on my mind and shut the TV off after about an hour.  I
spent almost all of my time that afternoon doing some deep
thinking about the future.  
     You see, because of the trauma we've gone through, most
of the Vietnamese people I'd grown up with rarely worried about
what might happen next week.  If the next few days were as well
set up as mine were, I was taught to just enjoy the circumstances
and worry later.  However, I was young and very much alone in a
new and very strange country.  
     My dreams about finding my father had clearly been stupid,
and now I needed another plan.  The best thing I had going for me
was that everyone was very friendly and seemed to like or openly
admire me very much.  I decided I'd better not just stay inside the
room.  I thought it would be wise to get out and meet as many
people as possible and see what happened.
     I was a little shocked that Carl had given me so much
money.  Even though I didn't consider that what we had done
together in bed was bad, I also knew that being paid for it made
me a bit like one of the prostitutes back home.  I didn't want to do
that any more.
     The other thing I kept mulling over in my mind was how
terrific my sexual feelings had been.  Like I said, before leaving
Vietnam, I'm sure I had not even masturbated more than two dozen
times in my entire life.  And now... I had cum over a half dozen
times in just two days.  Except for being used for forced sex, I was
a complete virgin and had been without many sexual desires.  The
experiences with Carl had changed all of that in less than twenty-
four hours.
     I never heard from Carl again.

BOOK TWO

     Late that afternoon I put on the white bikini swim suit Carl
had bought for me, checked myself in the mirror, and adjusted my
crotch for best effect.  The little suit highlighted my bronze body
in a wonderful way.  I went to swim in the large motel pool. 
There were quite a few people by the pool, which surprised me. 
The motel had been almost empty, but now... on Friday evening...
it seemed like it was full.  I found out later that during the hot
summer people take the weekend off and come to the beach to stay
cooler.  
     I kept getting lots of friendly looks and "hello's."  I fully
enjoyed the attention.  Certainly, some part of my sexuality had
quickly awakened.  
     One man who looked to me to be in his late twenties swam
up close to me in the pool a few times.  Later we started a
conversation.  "You must work out a lot," he said.  I didn't know
exactly what "work out" meant, so he quickly learned that I'd just
arrived in America.  He was very cordial.  I thought he was also
very handsome.  His skin was light, but fine dark hair lightly
covered his body.  He also had a closely trimmed dark beard and
the very dark hair on his head was a little longer than normal.  He
was in good shape and about two inches taller than me.  
     He said people called him "Gene" but that his real name
was "Gino."  I liked the name Gino, for some reason.  We talked,
then swam, then laid on the deck on our towels and talked some
more.  He said he worked as a computer programmer in a city
about twenty miles North.  I also learned that he'd just gotten a
divorce.  We exchanged motel room numbers.
     I got some take-home Chinese food, ate it while naked in
my room and watched a lot of TV that night.  I also masturbated
again, with some vague thoughts of this handsome new friend Gino
drifting through my brain.
     Early on Saturday morning I went out exploring and noticed
again that a lot of people were running through the streets.  I'd
seen organized runs on TV, but this was just people out getting
exercise.  I went back to my room, changed to just shorts, sox and
sneakers and ran with them.  I must have run ten miles down the
beach before turning around to run back.
     I was very tired and sweaty so I decided to take a swim. 
Only a few people were at the pool.  I wasn't in the pool more
than five minutes before Gino also arrived.  We again swam and
talked.  He had on a smaller swim suit than what he'd worn the
day before and looked very nice.  He asked where I had run. 
When I told him, he said he would have run with me if I'd wanted,
but probably not quite that far.
     Gino asked how much of Southern California I had seen. 
I told him I'd been in the motel since the day I arrived.  He offered
to show me around in his car.  We went to our rooms, changed
(the white Levi cut-off's and the yellow tank top), and then I went
to his room.  He was also in shorts and a tank top and I thought he
looked very handsome and sensual.  It was becoming obvious that
Gino was constantly looking me over and I liked it.
     His car was beautiful... a brand new sports car called a
Firebird.  It was also wonderfully air conditioned.  We drove down
the coast and talked for about a half hour.  America seemed to be
very big and beautiful... amazing highways, beautiful cars
everywhere, big buildings.  I thought that everyone must be rich! 
     He asked if I'd eaten.  He hadn't either, so we stopped for
lunch.  Gino seemed very intrigued by me and my life.  He asked
lots of questions as we ate.  We talked about his divorce.  He said
he'd been married four years, but that she'd found another guy.  He
said that their sex life had been the pits.  I told him I thought she'd
lost a very handsome husband.  He looked a little embarrassed. 
Then he smiled at me.  I'd put money in my sock back at the motel
so I insisted I pay for the meal.
     We drove South along the coast all the way to San Diego. 
Gino was very friendly and we had a wonderful time.  At one point
he touched my knee.  "Do you shave your body?"  "No... no hair
to shave.  I don't even shave my face."  He glanced at me as he
drove.  Our eyes met.  "You don't have any body hair?"  I laughed
and raised an arm.  "Some here, some down there," I said, pointing
to my armpit and my crotch.  He told me that he'd been a
swimmer in high school and had shaved his whole body many
times.  
     I told him I thought the fine hairs all over his body were
beautiful.  "My wife started getting me to shave a bit.  Ah, you
know... around my cock and balls.  I still do that once a week,
even though we've split up.  I have a friend... he's a very famous
model... he has to shave's some of his body hair twice a week
when he's doing nudes.  He's dark skinned... very middle-Eastern
looking.  They say he looks sexy."  He glanced at me again. 
"Lot's of guys shave their bodies.  Anyway, I don't think my ex
liked body hair.  She'd probably go for you, Andy."
     I asked about his middle-Eastern friend.  "Actually, he's got
both India and Iranian blood.  You may meet him.  Manoud's his
name.  We call him Manny.  He's coming here tomorrow on his
way back from a photo shoot in Catalina.  I'm staying here so I
can meet him and drive him back home."
     It was almost sundown when we got back home.  I asked
Gino if he liked Thai food.  He nodded.  I took him to the
restaurant Carl had taken me to and we sat in the same back corner
booth.  Gino asked me how I'd found the restaurant and knew what
to order.  I told him about the businessman that had taken me there
on my first night in the states.  Gino got curious so I told him a lot
about Carl.
     "Did he want to have sex with you?", Gino asked.  I told
him that Carl had given me a massage.  Gino grinned.  "Really?
I've got a license.  I do massages on the side for extra money."  I
was surprised.  He tried to explain.  "Ah, man... massages are my
favorite thing in the whole world.  My wife and I traded massages
every night during the first year of our marriage.  Then I got so
interested I went to a night school."  I said I liked them, too.  The
food came and that interrupted the conversation.
     After dinner we went swimming again.  Gino and I were
getting more and more friendly, and now as we dove and swam
together we'd often innocently touch.  We laughed, chased each
other, wrestled a bit under water, and finally got each other
winded.  
     My legs hurt a bit from all the running I'd done that
morning.  I told Gino I was tired.  He looked at me with a gleam
in his eye and said, "Oh, poor baby!"  He dove after me again and,
after play-fighting him off for a minute, we ended up in a short
clinch.  Gino was breathing hard, too.
     We went to my room to dry off because that was the closest
one to the pool.  I pulled off my wet suit and ran the towel over
my body, watching Gino's reaction in the bathroom mirror.  I
wrapped myself in a towel and told him to do the same.  As he
was drying he saw the baby oil and lotion on the sink while he let
me see glimpses of his body.  He picked up the lotion bottle and
looked at me.  "I don't have my table with me, but I'll massage
your tired old body on the bed if you want, Andy."
     I laid naked on my stomach while Gino knelt beside me on
the bed.  His touch was firmer and much more sure than Carl's had
been.  It was very wonderful as he painstakingly worked the
backside of my lean, muscled brown body over from my neck to
my toes.  
     I'd never felt the touch of a real masseur before.  It was
clear... Gino was definitely a pro!  Of course, my cock was hard
from almost the first minute of his touch, and that's the way it was
when I finally was asked to roll over.  I knew the Gino was
interested in seeing my totally naked body on both sides, so I
didn't try to cover anything up.
     Gino's towel had fallen on the floor and he had an erection,
too... about seven inches of veined hardness.  His balls dangled low
as he knelt in front of me.  It appeared that he also had a good
sized foreskin.  He now moved around the bed as he worked on
me, kneeling above my head, cradling it in his hands and working
over my forehead, scalp and neck muscles.  
     As he moved his hands expertly over my chest and down
my stomach, he stretched out above me and I looked up to see his
broad, soft fur covered chest inches from my face.  I couldn't
resist.  I put my hands up to touch the soft hairs on his chest for a
minute, and then ran my fingers up on his back.  As Gino
continued running his oiled fingers over my abs and down my sides
to my hips, I began to lightly run my hands over his back, too.
     The massage never was finished.  When Gino finally began
touching my spear, my fingers irresistibly found his.  His body
moved down so that he was kneeling at my shoulders.  His lips
touched my cockhead.  I looked up to gaze at his mighty sword
and dangling balls just above my forehead.  I felt extremely lustful. 
I could hardly wait for what I knew was inevitable.  
     I began touching Gino's low hanging balls.  His hands were
working over my cockstem to pull my foreskin back while his
tongue flicked over my delicate cockhead.  I pulled his body down
closer.  His balls lay on my forehead, while his cockhead was
poised just above my lips.  My eyes devoured the close up view I
had of Gino's ravishing, beautifully veined saber. My tongue
reached out.
     In moments, Gino and I were in what I now know is called
a 69 session.  It became a very vigorous experience.  There was
nothing subdued about Gino.  We rolled and thrashed together on
that bed, until we ran out of maneuvering room and slipped to the
floor.  Sometimes I was under Gino.  Sometimes we were side by
side, and sometimes I was above him.  We licked and sucked each
other in every way we knew how.  
     Rather than the innocent newcomer to both America and
consensual male-to-male sex, I became the instigator of new
experiences.  My hormones were raging with newly awakened
desire.  I held Gino's cock at the base in one hand so that my
mouth and tongue could continue to stimulate his enlarged
cockhead.  The fingers of my other hand began to move around his
twitching asshole.  As his body tensed in anticipation, I pressed a
digit inside.  Moments later, Gino did the same to me.
     His body began to buck.  I alternately licked his cockhead
and sucked him into my mouth as far as it could go.  My finger
explored him deeply.  I was so intent on providing Gino pleasure
that I was unaware of the intensity of my own sensations.   He
shuddered violently, as if having a frenzied seizure.  Then, as his
cock palpitated, shot after shot of his hot sperm flooded the back
of my mouth.  The quantity was so great I gagged for a second.
     After Gino had been fully drained and licked dry, he moved
so that he could concentrate on finishing his work between my
legs.  He reached for a pillow from the bed and propped it under
my ass as I laid on my back on the carpet.  He pulled his finger
from my asshole and began using his hands to work over every
erotic zone on my body as his mouth continued the assault on my
sensitive cock.  Carl had created amazing feelings, but Gino was an
absolute expert!
     I exploded!  He knelt between my legs and sucked up every
drop of my love offerings.  It took many minutes before he'd
finally finished cleaning me up.  My ass was still propped on the
pillow when Gino crawled up to lay lightly on top of me.
     There was no hesitation now.  This wasn't like some break-
in experience with Carl.  Gino was clearly experienced and I
couldn't be coy.  Our lips locked.  We kissed... deeply, tongues
exploring tongues, lips, mouths, faces, cheeks, eyes, ears.  Soon we
were rolling on the carpet, wildly humping in total abandon again
as our rigid cock dueled together.
     I wanted to experience Gino inside of me.  He held back. 
"No, Andy.  You do it to me," he whispered.  We continued
kissing as our bodies writhed together.
     Two very loud rings.  A short pause.  Two more very loud
rings!  I was startled.  It took a moment to realize it was the phone.
I disentangled myself from Gino and answered.  A young voice
was asking a question in a foreign language.  Finally I understood,
"Mama?"  I said no in Vietnamese and English.  The phone clicked
off.
     The mood was broken.  We realized it was dark outside. 
We showered together, and in the process climbed all over each
other, humping, stroking, licking and sucking.  Gino exploded all
over me, and moments later I reciprocated.  Even cleaning each
other up afterwards was exciting.
     At dinner Gino told me he was what his friends called a
"bottom."  He loved to be fucked.  That opened up some questions. 
Gino said there was a whole community of gay and bisexual men
who kind of divided themselves up by their different desires.  I
blurted that I thought I liked everything.  He laughed.  "You don't
know what everything is, Andy... yet."
     He told me that after his divorce he'd decided he was gay
and that the model guy named Manny was his roommate and lover. 
I asked more questions.  Gino explained that some gay people were
exclusive and, "like married," while other's loved each other but
also "played around."  "I'm too new at this, Andy, so I'm still
experimenting."
     Gino asked me if I was gay.  I shrugged.  "I don't know. 
I never had sex in Vietnam, other than when somebody forced me. 
I've never even fooled around with a woman.  I loved what Carl
and I did yesterday, and tonight with you was wonderful."  Gino
said a lot of foreigners think everyone is just sexual... not straight,
no gay.  He said that's what Manny thought.

     Manny arrived from his photo shoot on Catalina that next
day.  He was very handsome, very middle-Eastern, very friendly,
and very hairless, just like Gino had said.  Even though my motel
room bill was paid for the next two days, that afternoon I check
out with Gino and Manny and drove with them to their home.  
     Years have passed and we're still together.  I've been going
to night school to perfect my use of written and spoken English
and also to take a typing and computer class.  For a while I worked
as a house cleaner, then became a waiter, and now I work with
Gino in a computer company he started.  Manny still models, and
sometimes I do a "gig" with him.
     Life?  Wonderful!  Sex?  Wow!  (Don't ask for details!)

                                    -0-

Hope you liked this little story.  Look under "Bill Fore" in the
Nifty list of "Prolific Authors"  (in "Miscellaneous") for more of
my little epics.  Thanks for all your wonderful comments.  (Hell,
folks, it's only oozing, dripping words of erotica... it ain't that
big a deal!)

-- Bill (b4@earthlink.net)