Date: Sat, 01 Jan 2005 08:28:09 +0800
From: Kevin Lu <gandharva_pipa@hotmail.com>
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

<That wraps it up then. I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I
enjoyed putting it down on text. I had originally attempted to write a
sex flick, but the whole thing ended up being a somewhat corny
pseudo-love-story so do forgive me. Took me lotsa effort and the whole
night to complete, and now it's 7:30am and I still have to do a manual
spellcheck since this is on notpad. I hope I find time to add on to this
story, as I have many more sequel ideas already fabricated, including
that bit with the whipped cream...but for now, I'm spending this public
holiday sleeping till noon at least...damn here come those rainclouds
again...>

------------------------------------

Once again, comments, questions, constructive critisism and stuff
can be mailed to gandharva_pipa@hotmail.com.