Rob's Story Ch. 03: Dangerous

OK, I am a slut. But all I expected was a drink. A guy can dream, can't he?

We pulled up in front of the Oriental, under the dignified façade that protected the guests from the sun and the monsoon rain when it came. The British had built the place more than a hundred years ago, and it reeked of the old Empire smells of oiled teak and brass.

A doorman dressed in the regalia of old Siam opened the heavy doors and the gasp of air conditioning swept past us as we walked into the lobby. The public rooms were supposed to be sumptuous. You could see the sluggish brown rope of the Chao Phya river through the large windows.

Rick gestured toward the salon, where some tourists were enjoying high tea and businessmen where conferring with their Thai counterparts. Very civilized, I thought, as we walked in. Rock selected a table with four padded lounge chairs around it. They were covered in a fabric of rich damasque. I sank into the cushions as Rick sat next to me. One of the solicitous young men in a white jacket appeared as if by magic.

"How may I serve you, Mr. Rick?" he asked in rich rounded English. Rick had the grace to smile with some irony.

"I'd enjoy a Sapphire and soda, and I believe my associate would enjoy the same, only with tonic and lime." He turned to me, challenging me with the fact that he knew what I had ordered at his bar, even though he had not been there. Maybe everything was known in this town, and I suddenly had the feeling that I did not want to trifle with him. I thought briefly about ordering a beer and thought better about it. I just nodded. Associate, I thought. It seemed like a useful term.

"Let me give you some simple rules for survival," he said. "You should be judicious about the copy you file. You may report honestly, of course, but careful on the mention of corruption, and be careful that you do not criticize the local authorities.

You know they have the death penalty here for drug trafficking, and it has not been completely unknown for earnest reformers or journalists to be found to be in possession of small amounts of narcotics when it is convenient for the authorities." He lit a cigarette and narrowed his dark brow. He leaned forward. "I can be useful in helping to identify the sensitive areas, though of course I am always interested in knowing anything that might be useful from a...commercial...standpoint."

He took his time over the word. "Do you really mean military or diplomatic?" I asked.

"All things can be interesting. The human comedy is so consistently amusing."

There was a chill in his voice that told me it wasn't that good a joke. The drinks arrived, the clear gin in a short glass and the soda and tonic- Schweppes, of course- in tiny bottles next to them. There was a little bowl of delicate porcelain with sliced limes. I poured some tonic into the glass and reached for a lime slice, offering it to him first. He shook his head as he splashed soda on his gin. "I assume I can report on the Khmer Rouge and the Vietnamese?" I asked.

"Certainly, within reason. It is news, after all. But any implication that the Royal Government is cooperating with either could raise concerns for you. And of course they are. The Thais are survivors in what has been a very dangerous neighborhood. I'm telling you this as a friend."

I contemplated that information. I could swiftly get in more trouble than I needed here. "Tell me about the war here- World War Two, I mean."

He smiled, and the stories began. He talked of the Tiger from Japan, and how the troops had arrived here, not conquerors exactly, but very much in charge. He talked about helping the poor British prisoners who were forced to build the railway along the Kwai River to support operations in Burma, and how that had very nearly cost him his diplomatic status as a Hungarian ally of Tojo. He had several lovers in the British Officer Corps, and being young and reckless, it had been the thing his heart told him to do.

It seemed a world away, before the French defeat in Indo-China, before the American War and before the Khmer Rouge came out of the jungle and began the killing of the gentle people of Cambodia.

He must have talked for a half hour. The solicitous young man returned and Rick ordered another for us, noting that two was his limit in the afternoon, and that the dinner rush would begin after his siesta with Oy.

"How long have you been together?" I asked.

He smiled. "Since Dien ben Phu," he answered. "I had a taste for men, but there was no overt homosexual tradition amongst the Western Community. Moi was a very pretty boy, from upcountry near Chaing Mai. She was not known here except as the woman Oy. When we were seen together, they could whisper but never know for sure. It was a useful relationship for us both."

I raised the glass to my lips and sipped the astringent liquid. "Was?" I said, heart fluttering.

He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Yes. I used the past tense deliberately. Oy has come to an age where she wants to complete the surgery that will make her fully a woman. Our public life will continue, of course, but with the effects of the hormones, and the coming operation, our sexual relationship has dwindled. We have agreed it will come to an end after nearly twenty years. She will, of course, remain my public escort and business partner."

"And that is how this comes around to me, I suppose." I think I looked at him with the same fascination that a rabbit looks at a cobra. He leaned forward again, and took my right hand in his.

"Precisely, my young friend. You are precisely what I need. I have found that your tastes are the mirror image of my own, and that you can accommodate a man of some size."

"You set me up with Amazon to find out what I was like in bed?" I asked incredulously. "You are a fucking monster." I looked up in anger, the words coarse against my tongue and inconsistent with the plush chairs in which we sat.

"No," he said. "My young friend, I am a careful man and I am a survivor. I deeply regret what happened with Amazon. She was only supposed to sleep with you and make you happy. I swear I will make it up to you."

I looked at him, again like the rabbit in front of the cobra. This was probably going to be a big mistake. But, oh, those smoldering eyes...

He gazed at me for a minute or a half hour, I don't know. Finally I shook my head. He gestured for the check and just like magic it was in his hand. He scrawled something on it with a fountain pen and threw some bhat on the table as a tip. He rose and extended his hand to help me out of the cushions. I was a little light headed. His hand brushed the small of my back as he guided me not towards the door, but back to one of the corridors that led to the guest rooms.

We passed a palm and were out of view of the lobby almost instantly. Totally discrete.

"Management and I have an arrangement for the use of a suite here when I require it," he said softly, and then we were at one of the mahogany doors with the shiny brass hardware and then we were through it and I have absolutely no idea how it happened. I stood dumbstruck as he unbuckled his belt and stepped out of his slacks. He unbuttoned his loose shirt and gestured for me to pick up the slacks. "Fold then so they do not wrinkle," he said as he pulled down the waistband of his silk boxer shorts and let them fall to the floor. He left his socks on and walked over to a club chair upholstered in dark leather.

I silently picked up the trousers and held them by the belt-loops so that his wallet and keys would not fall out, and aligned the creases properly and laid them carefully on the bed. When I turned around his legs were spread naturally, revealing his manhood. His shirt hung open. His chest was carpeted with black hair flecked with gray, tapering to his navel, and them spreading in a path to his groin. His cock was pale against the color of his hair, and uncut. It hung down, flaccid, about five inches, and I imagined it was going to be a monster when it was engorged.

He waited patiently. I walked to him and took my place on my knees between his legs. I ran my hands over the wiry hair of his muscular legs. This close I could smell his musk, and the sweat from the steamy streets on his skin. And the leather of the chair. It was utterly male and utterly seductive. I looked him in the eyes.

"What do you want to do, Rob?" he asked softly.

"I suck cocks. I think you have heard that. The cock-sucking part."

"I have, and in fact, I have had good reports, and much more. But for now, let's explore that. Please, go right ahead." I leaned forward and gave the shriveled tip a kiss. I ran my right hand up between his legs to I could feel his balls in his hairy sack. I would take those in my mouth, too, but for now I gently caressed them. They slipped through my fingers, soft and slippery and brimming with a million sperm that soon would swim across my tongue and into my belly.

I began to lick at his foreskin, and with my left hand raised his stiffening shaft to my lips. I teased a drip of clear pre-cum from the slit of his helmet and ran my tongue over it. Rick sighed above me. I pressed his foreskin back over the bulbous head, a dark angry purple. He was stiffening in my hand and I saw that he indeed had a generous cock, thick and substantial. He was not as big as Amazon, but he was big enough that he would extend past the back of my throat. If he fucked my face he could get that fat tip lodged in esophagus and shoot his load direct to my stomach.

I didn't want that just yet. For now this was a new cock to explore and make happy, and I licked him from base to tip and then took him deep in my soft palate and sucked him, bobbing my head and jacking him with my left hand as my right continued a gentle manipulation of his ball-sack.

He seemed to like what I was doing, and I was gratified that my service was being appreciated by my new lover. "I'm not going to last long" he groaned. "I have wanted your young face on my dick for a month."

I kept working him, steadily, bobbing and tasting his wonderful nectar, wrapped in a sea of musk. I could feel his balls jerk as he bubbled toward me, and I pulled back so that just the tip of his cock was in my mouth. I wanted to taste every drop of him.

When his hips bucked I knew he was there, and I got three warm jets of man-juice on my tongue. His aftershocks brought more warm sperm to my tongue, his jets were rich but did not erupt like Amazon or my other, younger lovers.

As I rolled his seed on my tongue and gently lapped his residue from the tip of my new cock I realized I had never sucked the cock of a man this old. His seed tasted rich, a little hint of chlorine and cloves, not unpleasant at all. In fact, it was delicious.

His hands on the back of my head signaled me to stop any motion, and as he softened he kept the pressure there, so that I slowly sank into the black thicket of his pubic hair.

I lapped him until his was clean. Then he pushed my head away, gently, but firmly.

"I need to go the restaurant and I need at least part of my siesta. I will see you later. Stop by around 10:00 pm. He rose and stepped over me. I turned, still on my knees. I was as hard as a board. I loved the taste of his semen. He picked up his boxers and stepped into them, and just as briskly into his slacks. He buckled them and then began to button his shirt. His hair was un-mussed and he looked crisp. A drip of his cum had run down the side of my mouth, and I looked for it with my tongue, tasting him again.

"Let yourself out, just close the door behind you. See you tonight, my new lover." He gave me a smile that said if I was not already on my knees I would be there again soon. He walked to the door and vanished into the hall.

I licked my lips, still on my knees. I had something I had wanted to do, but I had completely forgotten what it might be. Then it struck me. I wondered if my old high school flame Joe was having the same sort of day I was.