Bangkok Summer Seduction

"I want you to move into my house in Bangkok," Sir repeated.

"Yes," I said.

"I should warn. I will want to possess you day and night."

"Yes," I answered.

Sri was true to his word on the possession aspect. Save for the times I worked at the bookstore, he kept me on my back, with my legs open to him, and he showed me a wide variety of exotic positions in which two—or three—men could fuck, as he soon was including Lek, the chauffeur, in our sexual calisthenics. My visits to the major off Sathon road also fell off. I couldn't physically accommodate two such demanding and athletic lovers at the same time. I had, I think, as my father suggested, found my level of sexual satiation with Sri, a satiation that, to my surprise, was far more hedonist than I'd imagined it could be.

* * * *

Sri discreetly stood off to the side at the entrance of security at the airport as I was departing in August. We had already covered our good-byes, he and I. The soreness of my anal canal reminded me how intense that parting had been.

Marie was standing in front of me, picking at my clothes. She wasn't letting me be comfortable. At her nagging, I was wearing linen trousers and a silk shirt. I did, however, have shorts and a T in my carryon. I would get more comfortable when I was settled in business class and the plane was turning over Cambodia and Vietnam.

"It was good having you here this summer, Julien," she said.

I felt guilty. "There's something I need to apologize for," I murmured. "I don't want to leave without doing that."

"You have nothing to apologize for, Julien," she said. "It went just as we planned. The summer was just the way it should be. I hope it means you will be coming back next summer."

"Just the way 'we' planned?" I said, confused. "What plan? Who is we?"

"Your father and me . . . and Sri, of course."

"I don't understand, mother."

She gave me a sharp look. I had called her "mother." She had almost beaten into me in my early life that I was to call her Marie, not mother. I had come to understand that it wasn't because we were both adults now—it was because she didn't want to be anyone's mother. Not even mine.

"Was my summer programmed, Marie? All of it? Was this some sort of coming of age in the lifestyle I was drifting to thing? All three of you were involved?"

"I think the summer was good for you, yes," she answered.

"Sri? You were with Sri when I got here."

"Sri is good for you. He was good for me temporarily, but that wasn't necessary to the plan. You needed someone like Sri."

"Was it all my need, Marie? Is it all a sham with Sri?"

"No, I don't want you to think that. He bailed the bookstore out. You were part of the payment for that. But it wasn't a sacrifice. You needed a man like Sri to bring you to full blossom."

"And my father? He was complicit in this?"

"Yes. He knew where you were turning. He wanted to make it a smooth transition."

"Starting when, Marie?" I had a sudden premonition.

"Starting with the Nigerian student. Continuing with the young Marine guard on the plane. Yes, we recruited him to do that. He was happy to do it. And Sri. He knew from the beginning, he wanted it from the beginning. It was you he wanted all along."

She sensed the droop in my shoulders, my inability to look her in the eye.

"It's done now, son," she said. "And it went with a minimum of fuss and worry. Can you say you are sorry?"

Not only couldn't I say I was sorry, but I also had latched onto that word "son." She'd rarely used that word on me through life. I couldn't deny what had been done for me this summer. How it had freed me.

"And Sri?" I asked, turning and looking at him, standing away from us. Sri was intently looking at me too. I knew from the look in his eye what the answer was to my question, but my mother answered it anyway.

"Sri says he will be here when you arrive next summer—it you come back to us. He even will make a life here for you if you want. And someone will need to take over the bookstore someday. Will you be coming back next summer?"

Of course I would.