Date: Thu, 6 Aug 1998 18:12:51 +0800
From: Martin <smtaipei@hotmail.com>
Subject: On the First Night in August

Story contains: mm, ws, sm, asian/white
Written by: smtaipei@hotmail.com

On the First Night in August
============================

On the first night in August, the White Party was on. As every Wednesday
for the last six months, I prepared to show myself.

Not that my body is particularly impressive or my face a model's emblem of
attraction, but I used to weigh over 250 pounds and had, with zeal and
patience, spent the last 3 years molding the type of physique that rules
the gay world.

I am Caucasian, in my late twenties and live in Taiwan. Any attractive
white male who has ever been to Asia knows what that means. I've been
living here for quite some time, and the more handsome by body becomes, the
more I enjoy the effect it has on the locals. There aren't that many tall
white hunks around.  Which suits me. For whites are not my kind of bag. I
love... Well. I'm sure you know.

On that particular Wednesday in August, lightning struck. Somewhere after
the drag & dance show at @live, a huge disco on the corner of Roosevelt and
Hoping Road featuring gay nights, he appeared.

I was standing right at the edge of the 4 feet high ramp, with Dolan, a
straight Irish friend whose Italian girlfriend used to work for my company,
and some other friends and acquaintances casually distributed in my
vicinity. Dolan freaked out to the sounds of "Crazy", one of these
high-energy songs that make you shake and shag more than your flesh and
bones can bear. We laughed and had fun, beer and a few cigarettes.

Julian noticed him first. He was standing about 5 feet in front of me with
his back turned towards me. His well-defined arms and shoulders mesmerized
me, the attractive view of this back, the dark tan. Muscular Asian bodies
are sculptured like no others. Their muscles hardly ever look bulgy and
fleshly, but gentle, soft, simply breathtaking. This is the breed of men I
have fallen for.

I reached forward and tapped the guy's shoulder. He reacted, turning
around. With a gesture of my left hand and a winning smile, I invited him
to step up to the platform and dance with me here. He smiled the smile of
angels, shook his head, and turned around.

He was dancing with a seldom grace, no professional dancer, mind you, but
swaying hips I would die for. His white and blue striped muscle shirt made
his tan look healthy and his skin soft. I longed for a touch, when I
realized the hand.

A white, hairy hand reached behind the boy's back, pressing him towards the
body in front. Lovers. Although I enjoy the look of embracing males, I saw
my chances dwindling as the Asian hunk's enthralling body pressed itself to
the fat and hairy back of an elderly white man, who, at that moment, turned
around.

The boy had whispered something into the white man's ear, probably telling
him that I had tried to pick him up. The white man now looked at me with
Medusa's killing look then gently kissed his lover's ear. "He's mine", said
the gesture, and a desperation and sadness overcame me.

We continued dancing and Dolan made jokes about my failed attempt to get
the hunk. "Voulez-vous" came on, followed by "Stay" and "Uh-la-la", and I
almost forgot about my failure - although my eyes kept wandering back to
the vision of my desire still dancing with his grossly overweight white
boyfriend, smiling at each other with a smile not of long-term
relationship, but of recent encounter, of young, unspoiled love. And maybe
a chance...

Again, it was Julian who first noticed that the white man was handing money
to the Chinese hunk and talking into his ear. Then, hunk putting the bills
in his pocket, made a slow move away from the dancefloor and away from me
and my friends. Julian said "Follow him", but I didn't dare, not without
hunk turning around and inviting me. Which I was sure he would not
do. Then, almost 20 feet away, in safe distances from his lover and almost
at the bar, the sailor slowly turned around, look me straight in the eye,
and smiled.

Not really a smile though. The type of look, rather, that guys through at
each other in leather bars when a master has found his slave. I was
stupified. Could it be.

I left my dancing spot and felt my cock get hard. I was wearing a too-small
sleeveless T-shirt and plastic pants. At that moment, I wish I would have
worn something more normal, like a plaid shirt. Something less gay.

The hunk walked up the stairs to and into the toilets, and I followed him.
There were about 10 guys in line waiting for the urinals, but one of the
stall doors in the back was open. The hunk walked right towards it, aware
of the hungry looks of some of the guys in the queue. Sex in public places
in not too common in Taiwan, and some of the men stared unbelievingly when
the hunk grabbed my arm and pulled me into the cubicle.

Straddling the toilet seat, he pulled my head towards him and kissed my
lips. Then, with a smile and a firm grasp on my shoulder he pushed me down
on my knees while opening his fly. Out popped a long and slender cock, not
too thick, but long and elegant, with subtle veins running down the sides.
I was about to engulf his tool with my mouth, when he shook his head and
pulled away his cock. He pushed my head back, as if he wanted me to watch
only. A few strokes with his right hand, then he stopped. His cock became
flaccid again, then moved upwards pushed by the movements of his hips.

All of a sudden, a stream of piss hit me right in the face. I couldn't
believe what was happening and eagerly opened my mouth, swallowing the
light-flavored piss. My cock got rock hard in my pants and almost
exploded. How could he know? What gave me away? These thoughts rushed
through my mind as I continued to drink the Asian sailor's piss, the warm
stream flowing down my throat. I had trouble keeping up, I wanted to pull
his cock out and direct the stream of piss over my shirt, but I didn't dare
to. With no clothes to change, it would have meant walking out with a
piss-drenched shirt. That's maybe OK if you live in New York, but not in
China.

The flow of piss stopped, and the hunk smiled. Slowly he pulled off his
shirt, folded it, and put it down in a corner. I was still kneeling on the
floor with the taste of piss in my mouth. He stripped off his jeans, then
his underwear, and finally stood in front of me completely naked. What a
man! What a body! Flat belly with well-defined abs, strong chest and legs,
hair down from the belly button to his cock. A firm ass, a winning and
friendly smile on his handsome Asian face, and the hard prick I lusted
for. He allowed me to suck his cock, while pressing my nipples hard,
turning and squeezing them. He slapped my face and pushed his cock further
down my throat. Suddenly he stopped, kneeled down in front of me, and bent
his body back. With his left hand, he started stroking his fuckpole,
slowly, then looked me in the eyes, hungrily, slightly nodding.

I stood up and pulled down my pants. My hard cock popped out, and he stared
astonished at the size of it. I had to concentrate for a while and thought
I would never be able to piss with a hard-on. I also couldn't get rid of my
hard on with this view of a hunk on the floor beside me. Then I felt the
piss pushing it's way up my tool. He smiled, opening his mouth wide.
Light-yellow piss gushed out of my prick on onto the Chinese hunk's torso.
I pissed on his tits, his belly, I pissed on his cock, then back up to his
neck, face, all over his hair and finally let him drink the rest of it.
Mouthful after mouthful went down the thirsty hunk's throat. He had stopped
stroking his cock for a while. Nevertheless, just when my stream of piss
started to subside, he came fervently, shooting his cum all over his abs,
then rubbing it in with the palm of his hand. I started jerking off with
the piss still flowing, and it wasn't long before I too shot wads of cum
over the hunks chest. He smiled, reached for the toilet paper, and together
we cleaned up this chest. We dressed, then embraced and kissed for what
seemed eternity, and just as I felt his cock get hard again in his pants,
he pulled away and left the stall.

A short stop at the mirror to wash our faces and check the hair, then we
walked off in different directions. A while later, I was back on my spot,
handing Dolan the beer I had bought, dancing away to the sounds of Gala's
"Come, come, come into my life". Then the hunk returned with drinks and
gave one to his lover together with the change. They embraced, and the
white man looked back to me again. A broad and vicious smile came over my
face.

=END=

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