Carolina Connections

When he was close to coming, the washcloth slipped off his face. The lust-filled grin on the face of Ted Lange hovered over Kevin's face. He was being fucked by the embassy political officer who had been flirting with him for weeks.

"Yes! Yes! I'm going to come!" Kevin cried out, and then he did.

Later, as they sat in the bar of the sports club, looking oh so civilized, diplomatic, and normal as they sipped their scotches, Ted laid it on the line.

"I'm not just a political officer," he said.

"I didn't think you were," Kevin said. "I've heard rumors. You actually work in the station?" The station was the CIA's section of the embassy.

"Yes."

"What now?" Kevin asked.

"I fuck you again at the next opportunity. Is that what you're asking?" Ted laughed.

"Yes, I guess so, but--"

"There, of course, is more 'what now,' Kevin, as I'm sure you must realize."

Actually, Kevin hadn't realized anything of the sort. He'd realized that he was in danger having sex with another man, that this was taboo in government service and he could be summarily separated for doing so. The realization of this clouded the aspect of his face. It wasn't enforced in the State Department anything like it was in the intelligence agencies, though, where it was thought to be a serious blackmail threat.

"Ah, yes, I see that you do realize it," Ted said. He was a smooth talker, completely in control and in his element. "I can have sex with other men, for the good of my service, Kevin. I'm sanctioned to. You are not. You have something to protect."

"I don't understand. What is your angle on this?" Kevin asked.

"In your job, you have contact with a lot of interesting people, Kevin. People the station is interested in. For instance, you will be at a dinner with a visiting Chinese composer next Tuesday. He's a party member in China. I couldn't get close to him. You can."

Ah, now Kevin knew what Ted's angle was. When Kevin had arrived in Bangkok, the first thing he'd been told by the cultural affairs officer was that their office was special. Their only mission was the promotion of the arts and Kevin was to remain above politics in the pursuit of his assignments. Kevin guessed that was beyond the boards now. He also knew that he wanted to be fucked by Ted again.

* * * *

"I'd like you to meet Ty Thanawat," Ted Lange said, when the hunky Thai-American came up to them at the end of tennis play on the Royal Thai Sports Club courts at noon on a muggy Saturday. It was so hot and humid that Kevin had downed a liter of Coke during play and they all were playing shirtless. Ted had a knack for putting together well-muscled men for his tennis Saturdays. They mostly were the better embassy players combined with local Thai military officers and foreigners--farangs--Ted was cultivating at the moment for one reason or another. This was the first Saturday Kevin had been specifically invited to play and he was bedazzled by the man flesh Ted had assembled. Of course Kevin held his own in that department.

Ty Thanawat was definitely in the mix on hunkiness. He was a gorgeous man, muscular but not overly so--more wiry--and perfectly proportioned. Kevin of course checked out the man's basket and determined that he was a champion in that department. He'd played tennis well. Kevin had been partnered with Ted in a set they'd played against Ty and a Thai general, and Kevin and Ted hadn't won, although it had been close. The Thai general had been a national champion and Ty Thanawat had played almost up to his level.

"Kevin is a recent arrival--cultural affairs. Ty works for USAID down south, Kevin. He's up for a week of reporting at the embassy. I know he doesn't look it, but he's another North Carolinian. Where was it that you're from, Ty?"

"Oriental, if you know where that is--and USAID is the agricultural development office, in case you didn't know," he said, taking Kevin's hand in his. Kevin almost hyperventilated when Ty folded his thumb under in the handshake and rubbed it against Kevin's palm. That was a signal of a seeking top, Kevin knew. He wondered if Ty knew, although it was hardly a gesture to perform by accident. And he also wondered why the gorgeous dark-skinned man was signaling him as if he had some inkling that Kevin was gay--and a submissive. Had he revealed himself in some way? Maybe his tongue had been hanging out and his eyes bugging while watching the Thai-American dance around across the net from him.

"East on the coast between Edenton and the ocean if I remember correctly--where Oriental is," Kevin said, with a smile. Just in case the man was signaling--he was gorgeous and of course Kevin was interested--he wrapped a finger around Ty's thumb before the handshake ended. That was the signal of an accepting submissive.

"Bingo," Ty said, giving him a warm smile. Kevin saw every reason to believe that the response was for the signal rather than knowing where Oriental, North Carolina, was.

"How about a drink when we've gotten changed?" Ty said. "The three of us, of course." He was looking at Ted.

"I'd love to," Ted answered, on cue, "but I have an appointment back at the embassy. Why don't the two of you have that drink. Talk about your shared memories of North Carolina. Kevin and I both wound up at Duke."

"I wound up in the military," Ty said. "How about it, Kevin? You up for a drink--after we've cleaned up and dressed? I'm certainly up." His smile said that he was talking about more than a drink. Ty made sure Kevin got a good look of him naked in the locker room when they showered and changed and he made no effort to hide that he was checking Kevin's body out too. Ty, naked, was all that Kevin could have hoped he'd be.

Kevin confirmed that Ty was talking about more than a drink when the bar he took Kevin to was in a male brothel. Kevin knew it was because he'd been here before with a Dutch bodybuilder tourist who had come to break a Thai transvestite or three in two and had added Kevin for good measure after picking him up in a Soi Cowboy bar.

After they'd been served their drinks, Ty got right to it. "You know this is a brothel, don't you?"

"Yes. A male one," Kevin said, giving Ty an even look.

"Are you going to go upstairs with me? I have a room booked. They have all the equipment we might need."

"You are thinking that I would want to be used with special equipment?" Kevin asked.

Ty just smiled, which prompted Kevin to continue. "How did you figure I might do that, especially without any preliminary seduction?" Kevin asked. "Just curious."

"Ted told me you could be had and that you were worth it," Ty said. "Also, I'm at the U-Tapao Airbase. I work with a friend of yours, I believe. Patrick Thornton. He is a friend of yours, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is. We went to school together. Our wives are good friends. Patrick's wife lives with us here in Bangkok."

"I understand that he's more than just a friend--and that he'd be even more friendly if you weren't both submissives. He takes my cock. He thinks you'd like to take my cock too. He's recommending me to you. He says you like to be tied up and used hard. You can certainly check with him, if you want."

"I'll trust you on that," Kevin answered.

"You look like a real honey and Ted says you take it like a champ. So, again, are you going to go upstairs with me? Perhaps they have equipment you haven't tried before."

"Should I finish my drink first?"

"I've got better stuff upstairs. Something to enhance your pleasure."

Upstairs, Kevin accepted the joint as they were fooling around, undressing each other and exploring each other's bodies. But he turned down the offer of heroin. "I don't need more than looking at you to enhance my pleasure," he said. "Where'd you get that cock? It's huge and black as black can be."

"From my father. Kneel to it and take it in your mouth."

They were getting right down to it, and Ty had surmised correctly that Kevin was a true submissive. He responded to commands. Kevin knelt, took Ty's cock in his mouth, and gave him expert head.

Then it was, "Stand up and bend over the bed. Stretch your arms up toward the corners of the headboard." Kevin did as directed and Ty put him in wrist restraints. "These weights are to stretch you balls out," Ty said as he laced leather leads with weights at the end around Kevin's ball sac. Kevin moaned at the feel of the stretch on his balls. "I'm going to fuck the hell out of you now."

And then he did. Ty moved behind Kevin, mounted him, and fucked in a doggy position. Kevin gave him anything he wanted, and he wanted it all.

Afterward, they lay on the bed, legs and arms entangled.

"How much longer are you going to be in Bangkok?" Kevin asked.

"About another week. The time is pretty open."

"Will I see you again? Will you fuck me again?"

"I'm going to fuck you again today, before we leave here." Kevin moaned for him on that note. "But maybe we can fit another meeting in. You say you're married, though. Patrick tells me that your wives are real lookers. He tells me that your wife is working for a furniture-making company here--that she designs furniture--and that his wife works for an exporter here."

"Yes, that's right."

"And that both of them live with you here in Bangkok."

"Yes. What--?"

"I want to meet them. I want you to invite me to dinner."

"I don't know. I--"

"Invite me for dinner with both of them there and I'll find an opportunity to meet and fuck you again before I leave."

"I'm not sure--"

"You and Patrick are into each other. He told me you don't mess around with your wives much but that they're real friendly with each other and with other men. If you two aren't going to fuck them good and they're real lookers there's no reason why I shouldn't do it."

"You're joking, of course," Kevin said.

"Do you take me for someone who jokes? Did I promise to make use of the equipment we have in this room?"

"Yes,"

"See those chains hanging from the ceiling over there. Know what they're for?"

"I guess to hang something from."

"Bingo. See, they have wrist restraints on them. Come off the bed, go over there while I find a flogger or a hand whip or something."

Kevin groaned, but, with a lurch of arousal, he did as commanded.

* * * *

Kevin invited Ty to dinner at his house. Megan and Haley weren't enthusiastic about it at first, but there were a cook and a server on staff to do the real work and Haley, having found out that Thanawat worked with her husband, Patrick, e-mailed him about the man and Patrick sent back a photo of Ty and him together. After that it was just fine for the man to come to dinner.

He came to dinner and charmed the two women and then he was invited to dinner again--by Megan and Haley, without Kevin being there. The next week Kevin was sent up to Chiangmai to give a lecture at the university up there and was gone for two nights. When he came back, he found no one at the compound gate to let him in. There was no cook in the kitchen either. He was coming home a day early, but he was surprised that the women might have given the servants time off while he was gone. Servants didn't expect any time off in Thailand. They were expected to work 24/7/365, unless there was an emergency they were able to beg off to attend to. But he later found that Megan and Haley had given all of the servants time off.

He found them--Megan, Ty, and Haley--in Haley's bed upstairs. Megan was lying there, stretched out on the bed, clearly exhausted and well fucked, and Ty was working on Haley.

Kevin went back downstairs and unlocked the liquor cabinet. He wasn't surprised. He wasn't even that upset the women were being fucked. Ty had been right; Patrick and he didn't do much with their wives anymore, and Megan and Haley openly got it on with each other and with other men of their choice. What Kevin was a little bummed about was that he was jealous the wives were getting it from Ty and he wasn't. But then, if Ty hadn't gone down country yet, Kevin had hopes of getting it from Ty again himself before the gorgeous Thai-American with the jet-black monster cock returned to U-Tapao--and to Patrick.

The Thai don't celebrate American Thanksgiving. But the fivesome--the Thorntons, the Grimeses, and Ty Thanawat--celebrated it in 2007 at an outdoor Bangkok seafood restaurant, where the dining pavilions spread out over a pond choked with water lilies. They met to celebrate the signing of the papers for a business they were all going into together. They were opening a furniture store in the States where they would sell fine-wood--teak, rosewood, mahogany--custom-made Oriental furniture they were having made in Thailand to Megan's designs and using Haley's import-export company connections. Since all of them had connections in North Carolina, they were opening the business in upscale Asheville.

Both Kevin and Patrick were leaving their government posts--neither one far ahead of exposure for their gay preferences--and Ty Thanawat was separating from the government as well. He'd set up a way to make even more money by providing distribution, using secret compartments in the shipped furniture, of the opium derivatives from the Cambodian border Thai hilltribes were continuing to grow and process even while being able to take on the new income-producing jobs the U.S. government was providing to take them off opium production.

The celebratory dinner in the Bangkok seafood restaurant was commemorated by the taking of a photo of the five of them together, a couple on either side of Ty Thanawat, all with their arms around each other and beaming at the camera. All obviously were pleased with themselves. Several copies of the photo were printed. The two couples prized the photo highly, all for the same reason--their proximity to Ty Thanawat. At the time, Thanawat was mastering them all, fucking each one of them, and each one of them couldn't have been more pleased. The lawyer who had drawn up the legal papers on the company had made the lame joke that the black Thai-American must feel like an odd man out with two glowingly white couples as partners--although of course he didn't openly refer to race. None of the five reacted, though. Each one of them knew that Ty Thanawat was the man inside them whenever and wherever he wanted to be.

Before That: DaJon and the Guys

Annnnd, here it comes, DaJon thought, as, holding one hand against DaJon's waist and having put his cock in place, the bulb lodged in DaJon's hole, Andy Kendrick grasped the other side of DaJon's waist and started working his cock inside. Splayed out wide on his knees on the foot of the bed with his chest pressed into the bedspread and his arms raised and spread, his hands gathering up chenille material, DaJon groaned and moaned with the movement of the cock up inside him as he knew the johns liked. This one wasn't overly taxing, but DaJon knew he was expected to act like it was.

"Oh, daddy, please go slow. You're so big. You're going to tear me apart," the small, lithe, almost effeminately handsome mixed-race rent-boy groaned. DaJon's mother was black. She said his father was an Hispanic itinerate farm worker, who was here for a season and then gone forever. She always told DaJon, though, that he was a beautiful man, well worth the short time she'd been with him. She was a beautiful woman too, and DaJon, now nineteen, but with fake documents that claimed he was twenty-two, had turned out beautiful too. He'd lived his entire life in Asheville. His mother was a librarian and she'd raised her DaJon to be respectable middle class and had saved enough to send him to the nearby Asheville campus of the University of North Carolina. It had been DaJon's own idea to be a rent-boy as well as a college student--because he needed the money and also because he liked having a man's cock inside him.

"You got it, baby," Kendrick murmured, stroking inside DaJon now, but taking it slow, the forty-something, slightly pudgy businessman rocking the boy's pelvis back and forth on the buried cock, guided by his hands on the young man's waist. "We're hooked up now. We can go downtown. So nice. So tight. Give it to me, baby."

DaJon helped with the rocking and egged the man on with his soft moans and whispers of "Yes. Yes, just like that. You're so big. You're the best. Just like that, daddy." The young man's eyes were on his jeans flung on the bed above and to the side of where he was positioned, flung there by the man, anxious to get to it.

The six fifty-dollar bills Kendrick had given to DaJon when he'd picked him up at the YMCA were peeking out of the pocket of the jeans. DaJon kept his eyes on the money as the man fucked him. He'd already sucked the man's cock here in the guestroom of Kendrick's large, yellow Victorian on North Liberty street in the north Asheville suburb of Claxton Community, to the east of the university campus. It was unusual for a john to take DaJon to his home to fuck him, but that had been Kendrick's choice. He hadn't wanted to take the time and effort to book into one of the hotels on Haywood that rented to men by the hour.

Kendrick had been stroking him like this long enough, DaJon thought. It was time to milk him and get back to Tony's and do some studying for his exams. The rent-boy was experienced in this. He'd learned to work his channel muscles. He put them into motion, caressing the cock inside him, undulating over it. He sighed and moaned. "Oh, yes, daddy. Fuck me, daddy. Fuck me harder. Punish me."

With a shudder, Kendrick began stroking harder, going deeper, pulling back more, slamming the cock in, digging his fingernails into the young man's slim waist. "Oh, baby, baby. So nice, so tight. Give it to me. Give it to me."

"Take me. Take me now," DaJon exclaimed, putting a whimpering tone into his voice, and gathering up his muscles to put one last, hard squeeze on the cock to make it spout inside the condom, when they both clearly heard the slamming of the front door downstairs.

"Shit. Fuck," Kendrick said, pulling out of DaJon's ass and stumbling over to the window out onto the front lawn. "Fuck," he said again. "It's Alma. She's not supposed to be home until tomorrow. Shit. Get dressed and listen for me to get her to the back of the house before you leave by the front. Don't slam the door. Be as quiet as you can be." The man was pulling on his briefs and trousers.

"Alma?"

"My wife. Mrs. Kendrick. Don't let her see you. This would be all I needed to give her leverage in the settlement."

"The settlement?" DaJon asked, confused, as he pulled on his jeans, making sure that the $300 remained in the pocket. But he asked this question to thin air. Kendrick was out of the room and headed down the stairs to somehow get his wife to the back of the house to cover DaJon's escape.

DaJon was out on the street before he realized his car was back at the YMCA, downtown, too many blocks to the southeast of here. He'd walk or hitch a ride up to the university area, to the apartment his friend, Tony, also a student and a rent-boy was letting him crash at "temporarily." Temporarily had lasted for four months so far.

He hadn't walked more than a block over to Merrimon Avenue when a new Dodge Ram honked its horn and pulled over beside him. The passenger window rolled down and a gruff voice said, "DaJon, isn't it? Need a ride?"

DaJon walked over to the window and peered in. It was one of the bulky hunks from the YMCA gym, and he was here in all of his glory. He wasn't a looker, big and massive, pushing forty, muscular but not fat by any means, thuggish looking but in a dangerous and sexy, oh so sexy, way. And he was just in athletic shorts, which was showing off one of his most impressive features. The left side of his torso and down his arm were covered with a highly intricate and very professional colorful tattoo. That had always made DaJon go hard in the gym when he saw the guy working out.