V Blooming
Harish and Rebecca saw each other more and more. They explored each other's and their own sexuality in innumerable and sensual ways. They talked about nearly everything. Jim had asked when they were going to live together. That had never come up! They never talked about that. Rebecca never talked about her family other than to admit that her father was in business and her mother did volunteer work. Harish assumed that they were well off--as, indeed, they were. But that was a strange and avoided gap.
Towards the end of his second year--his last year--Rebecca had mentioned that her parents were going on a vacation to the Caribbean for a couple of weeks. Rebecca said that she had to check their house.
"Where do they live?" Harish asked.
"Here, in Madison," she admitted.
"Here! In Madison?" Harish asked shocked. "Why didn't you ever tell me?" he demanded.
"Too complicated," she admitted, "besides my parents and I don't see eye-to-eye about most everything. So . . . we conveniently avoid each other."
Harish could not imagine such a situation. He thought he knew Rebecca!
"Each of us have areas that are so private, we cannot share them," she said in answer to his muddled expression.
"Yeah, you may be right. . . but family is so . . . . , "he thought better of saying what was on his mind and stopped in mid sentence.
"Anyway, would you like to go with me? I hate going into that house alone."
"Of course, I will"
The Reynolds' house was spectacular in a reserved way. It reminded Harish of one of the 'Stately Country Houses' he had seen in a book about England! Set back from the road on a small rise the wide plot of land was immaculately landscaped and kept.
"Wow," said Harish, "This is a mansion!"
"Yeah, a bit much, isn't it? And, entirely too big for two people."
"Don't they have servants?" he inquired.
"Yes, but they've given them a vacation," and added, "Finally!"
They drove up the drive and stopped at the front door. "I have to check the plants. They're more concerned about their plants than they are of people!"
Harish avoided any comment. The entered the house, Rebecca punched a code into the alarm box and led him down a long hallway. They entered a small conservatory, glassed in on two sides and filled with all manner of exotic plants.
"This is impressive," Harish stated.
"It is meant to be," Rebecca answered. She checked the various plants, went over to an electrical switch on the wall and flipped it. Immediately a light spray of water filled the conservatory.
"Hey!" Harish yelled, dashing to where Rebecca stood. "Trying to drown me?"
She smiled, "Sorry my love. I guess I wasn't thinking." She planted a kiss on his mouth. "This place really gets to me," she admitted, "But, with you here, it's bearable."
Again she kissed him, but this time longer and with her erotically charged flicking tongue. It imparted the reaction in Harish that she knew it would, and he kissed her back with equal passion. She pressed her body against his and started to grind her hips. Harish began to get a hard on, as she knew he would. Kissing him, she reached down, between their bodies and massaged his lengthening cock. Harish groaned.
Without anymore preamble, Rebecca unzipped his pants, took out his hardening cock, knelt down and began to suck it voraciously. Harish was surprised by her urgency, but reveled in the feeling of her mouth on his cock. She began to fuck his cock with her mouth, setting a brisk rhythm. He looked down. He had learned to love the look of her luscious pink lips as they slid back and forth the length of his thick, dark shaft. Her lips, coupled with her flicking tongue sent him into paroxysms of unbridled pleasure. He focused on the glistening shaft as it was covered and then uncovered. Then, he began to thrust his hips forward in time with her plunging mouth.
"My God!" came a hoarse voice from behind him. Harish glanced over his shoulder to see a well dressed middle aged couple standing in the doorway to the conservatory. The woman blanched white with shock, the man flushed with anger. Simultaneously, Rebecca drew back, glanced around Harish's hips, blanched white, and stood up, trembling. Quickly, Harish stuffed his cock back into his pants and zipped up.
"What is going on here!" demanded the man.
"Mommy . . . Daddy," Rebecca uttered out in a faltering, strained voice.
"Oh, God," Harish said to himself as he flushed, "Her parents!" He was utterly mortified, dumbfounded! Never before had he been so embarrassed!
"WHY?" he screamed to himself.
He didn't know what to do, but he knew that he must do something! He took a step towards the couple.
"Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds . . . I . . ."
Before Harish could say anymore, Mr. Reynolds glared at him and spat out, "I think you had better leave . . . NOW!"
"Yes, sir," Harish meekly answered and glanced briefly into the stricken face of Rebecca. The torment that he saw there filled him with dread.
Rebecca glanced quickly at Harish, and mouthed, "I'm sorry." Her eyes were brimming with tears, her normally pink lips had taken on a bluish tinge and were trembling.
Harish quickly left the Reynolds home, walked quickly down the long driveway and out of the massive gates. Twenty minutes later he arrived at a bus stop and waited. His mind was in chaos! Vainly, he tried to organize his emotions and what had happened. But, in the aftermath of That traumatic, emotional experience, that shock, nothing made any sense!
The next couple of days dropped like a shroud over Harish's being. After he returned to his apartment that afternoon, he sat on the stoop, waiting, in vain, for Rebecca to drive up to her apartment house.
About 7:00, Jim walked up, saw Harish sitting there and the look of utter despair on his face. "What's the matter with you?"
"You wouldn't believe what happened!" stated Harish
"Come on up stairs. I think you need to talk," commented Jim.
Harish followed him up the stairs and into his apartment. He told Jim about the whole horrific afternoon.
"Jeeze! What a bummer," Jim said, and then as an afterthought, "Don't worry, things will work themselves out. It isn't the end of the world!"
"Pretty near . . ." Harish said.
The next morning Harish decided to skip his first class. He tried to call Rebecca at 9:00--no answer. Leaving the building at 9:15, he glanced across the street, but didn't see Rebecca's car. There were the usual number of cars parked along the street and a large van in the middle of the block.
"Maybe she spent the night with her parents," he thought.
That whole day he felt simply numb! He had to talk to Rebecca. Two more times he tried to call her but no answer. Her answering machine must have been turned off since that didn't even click in. He was dejected, in a gray funk deeper than he had ever been in.
Late that afternoon he walked to his building, after his last class--still Rebecca's car was not to be seen. He had to crane his neck as a large truck was slowly moving up the street, partially eclipsing his view.
"Where could she be?" he thought to himself.
As he entered his building, he checked his mail box, as usual, there were the assorted adverts and a plane white envelope with his name written in a familiar script.
"It's from Rebecca!" He tore open the envelope and drew out a folded, simple, white card. 'Rebecca Reynolds' was engraved on the front. He flipped it open and began to read:
"My Darling Harish,
How can I ever explain to you how sorry I was about what happened Sunday! The look on you face when you left ripped my heart apart. You know that my parents and I didn't see eye to eye about almost everything. Well, the 'scene' after you left was not to be believed! It really had nothing to do you you personally, but it was horrific!
My darling, I realize that you probably won't understand this! However, I need some time to sort things out, time by myself, time away from this place and to be far removed from my parents.
To put it simply, I'm leaving (by the time you read this I will have already left). You are a wonderful man, one whom I would want to spend the rest of my life with. But, under the present circumstances, I'm no good to anybody.
I love you Harish.
Forever, Rebecca"
Harish was poleaxed! He was dumbstruck!
He didn't know if he could finish the semester--but he did. He didn't know if he could sit for his comprehensive or his orals--but he did. He didn't think that he could walk across the stage to receive his hood or his diploma--but he did! Harish learned that even though there are horrendous emotional assaults on a person, the individual has a way of coping and going forward. And, this Harish did.
He graduated, with honors, not before hearing from a large multi-national company--one of a number he interviewed with in his last semester--that they wished to employ him. He would be a management trainee for six months in the U.S. and then transferred to his home country, Malaysia, where they were expanding. It was a great opportunity for Harish, one that only had been dimmed by Rebecca's disappearance.
The training program was on the east coast and the program was rigorous. Harish immersed himself in the various tasks and requirements. Being so busy was good for him--it occupied his time. He was not completely alone. He still corresponded on a relatively regular basis with Dick and some what less with Jim and Angela--they had married that summer.
He flew back to Malaysia in December. He had missed Dipavali, but then he had missed it for three years. He was met at the airport by his family who were in a festive mood, nonetheless. Harish was home!
He found an adequate apartment in Kuala Lumpur and settled in to his new digs and new job. Rebecca's memory was still vivid, but the pain of her disappearance was lessening. He began to function normally.
Later, that March - - - -
"What did you think of the Hall?" came a question which shook him from his reverie.
"Pardon?" He glanced towards the source of the voice and saw the 'matsaleh.'
"What did you think of the Hall? Quite beautiful, I think" the young man said with a smile.
"Yes, very impressive and the acoustics are quite good," Harish replied also smiling.
"If you're not waiting for some one . . . can I join you? I'm sort of new in town."
"Of course. Please, do," Harish said indicating the empty chair across from him.
He was vaguely familiar--brown hair slightly thinning, brown eyes, full mustache over a broad smile, tall, appeared to be slightly muscular and presented a relaxed, mellow demeanor.
The 'matsaleh' took his coffee, and lowered himself into the chair. "Please, forgive my rudeness, but I am rather new to this city . . . ." then he reached his right hand over the small table to shake Harish's hand, and continued, "I'm Brad Forsythe."
Brad Forsythe!
Harish was considerably taken back! "Who?" he asked, unbelieving. Brad Forsythe, his old nemesis.
"My name is Brad Forsythe," he repeated.
Harish recovered enough to offer his hand, saying, "Hi, I'm Harish. . ." and then added quickly, "You remember? Harish from Klang School for Boys!" His face was an impassive mask.
Now it was Brad's turn to be taken back! "Harish! . . . My God, you've changed! You've gotten so much taller! I never would have recognized you."
Harish smiled wryly and threw a barb, "Yes, and my clothes are new, now!" That was uncharacteristic of Harish, he knew it, but the sufferings of an adolescent are not easily forgotten--e.g., the comment about his worn underwear.
Brad's smiling face clouded a bit. "Jeeze, it's great seeing you again!" then added, "After all these years. I'm really pleased"
The shock of meeting Brad, the history of their early association, coupled with the trauma of Rebecca had engendered in Harish a spitefulness that was completely out of character. It was understandable, and, happily, it would fade away.
Cooly and impassively, Harish slashed, "I'm sure you're pleased!" He spat out the last word as if it were a bitter seed.
Of course Brad was cognizant of how he had treated and teased Harish when they were young. As he looked back on those days, he did so with some regret.
After an uncomfortable pause in their brief conversation, Brad began, "Look, Harish, I guess . . . No . . . I know I was a real ass hole . . . I'm sorry . . . I'm really sorry . . ." Brad's face mirrored his absolute contrition.
Seeing as well as realizing his discomfort and regret, Harish quickly injected, "Brad, please forgive my rudeness . . . it was stupid of me."
"No, no . . ." he said with a wan smile, "I understand . . . We all say and do stupid things. I guess that's part of the penalty of living."
"Still it was unnecessary and unmannerly." Harish stated emphatically.
Brad smiled. Moments later his smile turned into a grin and he said, "How do you do, I'm Brad Forsythe," and offered his hand.
Taken back slightly, but instantly recognizing the intent, Harish offered his hand, smiled broadly and said, "How do you do, I'm Harish A/L Kumar."
The ice was melting, but not altogether. That would take time. Yet, they began to chat as acquaintances who had not seen each other for a time would do. Harish told Brad of his years in America, his schooling at Grinnell and Wisconsin, and of his new position. Then he asked Brad, "By the way, can I ask what you are doing back in K. L.?"
"Teaching," he answered with a smile.
"Teaching?" Harish questioned, "What do you teach?"
"I'm in special education at the International School."
"Special education?"
"Yes, special education is . . . " Brad began to explain.
Harish raised a hand to halt, "No . . . I know what special education is. I just never would have thought that you would have gone into special education."
Brad smiled knowingly, "Yeah, I guess it shocked a number of people . . ."
"How long have you been teaching?" asked Harish.
"This is my first position."
Trying to calculate years Harish asked, "You have your Master's then?"
"No, just my Bachelor's . . ." then with a grin, "Remember I'm not as smart as you?"
"Brad, as I remember," he stated with a chuckle, "You aren't dumb!"
Brad smiled wistfully, and began to recount the past six years.
"After Klang School, I went to university in Seattle. I was going to be a lawyer. The first semester I met this girl, this wonderful girl. We fell almost immediately in love. How she could have loved a guy like me I couldn't understand. Her name was Kalanya." His face took on a wistful expression. Looking up at Harish and smiling he continued, "Her mother was a Tamil from Malaysia. Can you believe it? Her father was American. She was beautiful . . . not just physically, although she was a knockout . . . but she was an absolutely beautiful person. We got married at the end of our Freshman year. Both of our parents thought that we should have waited . . . maybe we should have . . . but we didn't. Almost immediately Kalanya got pregnant. I guess we should have been more careful, but we were both delighted. We had a little girl . . . we called her Sita . . . you know from the Ramayana? Three months after Sita was born . . . " Tears filled Brad's eyes,
Harish frowned at this turn. "Kalanya was killed in a traffic accident . . . " He hesitated, tears coursed down his face. He was unaware of them, not bothering to wipe them away. "I thought I would die . . . In a way, part of me did . . . If it wasn't for a great psychologist I would have . . ." Suddenly he was aware of the tears, brushed them quickly away and smiled wanly at Harish. "I almost didn't make it. I lost a lot of weight went into depression. But, I had Sita. I took a year off and worked in a local school as an assistant to the "special ed" teacher Then I went back to university . . . I don't know something inside me changed . . . I dumped the lawyer shit and went into Special Ed." He took a deep cleansing breath. "I looked at different places to work, then the position at the International School came up. So, here I am back in K. L."
Lightly shaking his head, "God, Brad, that must have been horrible! I'm so sorry for your loss."
"Well, we manage."
"Is Sita with you?"
"Yes. Kalanya has relatives here. It's natural. And, besides, there was never a question of us being separated. She's my daughter!" he ended with a bright smile. "Well, enough of me! How's your life been Harish? Are you married? Do you have a girlfriend?"
Harish talked in more detail than normal, disclosing his story of Rebecca--which in the light of Brad's story seemed almost petty in comparison. Still, Brad was solicitous and understanding. They talked a little longer.
Then they exchanged phone numbers, shook hands again, this time somewhat more warmly and each went their separate way home.
"How Brad has changed," he thought as he taxied to his apartment. "But I guess under those circumstances anyone would."
Mid-week Harish called Brad's number and they made plans to meet for dinner at "The Lotus" on Saturday. "I hope you can bring Sita?" Harish asked.
"Yes, I can . . . that would be nice."
That Saturday, at 7:00 they both arrived at the restaurant.
Brad was more voluble. "I can't believe you're on time," he chided brightly.
"You forget I was in America for six years . . . I did learn some thing, How are you?" Harish parried with equal good grace. They both laughed.
Brad clasped the hand of his daughter, Sita. She was a pretty child, dark hair, dark eyes a pretty pink rosebud mouth. She was animated, not shy like so many children.
"Sita, say 'Hello' to Encik Harish," Brad prodded.
"Hello uncle," came the quick, bright reply.
"Hello, young lady," Harish said. "She resembles you," he admitted to Brad.
"She looks more like her mother," came the reply as he lovingly gazed at his daughter.
The three sat, ate and chatted. Brad was pleased that Harish included Sita in their conversation, asking her questions about school, her friends and the like. This time their conversation was considerably more relaxed than earlier.
They met several times in the month that followed. Some times with Sita, sometimes just the two of them and once with a couple of teachers from Brad's school. Generally, their meetings were on the weekends. Both Harish and Brad were quite busy during the week.
Harish's company had leased a bungalow on the beach at Port Dickson for its employees. Various groups would motor down from K. L. and spend the weekend on the beach, relaxing. Harish had added his name to the waiting list and when his name came up he called Brad and asked if he would like to be his guest for the following weekend.
"That would be great," Brad answered over the phone. "Besides," he added, "Sita will be spending the weekend with her great aunt."
"I've obtained a company car. I can pick you up at 5:30 Friday. Would that be convenient?" Harish was still rather formal with Brad, but then that was part of his normal behavior.
"Yeah, that would be fine. Do I need anything formal?" he queried.
"Not unless you swim in a business suit," Harish quipped.
"Got ya!" said Brad.
Harish picked up Brad and they drove to Port Dickson, chatting about their week--commenting on how some things like the skyline had changed dramatically, while other things remained the same. They had become rather comfortable and relaxed in each other's presence.
The bungalow was spacious, containing four large bedrooms, all with attached baths. Harish and Brad shared one of the rooms on the second floor. It, like the others, was large, windows overlooking the Straits, twin beds, a sofa, two chairs, a wardrobe and a spacious bathroom.
"Almost five star," Harish commented.
"Yeah, nice, and just a short dash to the beach," Brad observed.
"Remember," Harish quipped, "This is Malaysia. No nude bathing."
"Gotcha!" Brad answered with a nod.
Dinner was served a half hour after they arrived. The company hired a cook and a housekeeper for the bungalow who catered to the needs of the guests. It was quite comfortable. After dinner they walked along the beach and luxuriated in the brief hiatus from the stress of the work world.
Later, as they prepared for bed, Harish slipped into a sarong to change, and as before, at Klang School, Brad stripped to his shorts and climbed into bed.
"I see," Brad commented and nodding at Harish's sarong, "Some things don't change."
Harish chuckled, "Yes some things don't."
Harish awoke first the next morning. Brad was still sleeping. Quietly, he went into the bathroom, performed his morning toilette, showered and walked into the bedroom with the large bath towel wrapped about his waist. Brad was, by now awake.
"Jeeze, it was great to sleep in this long," He said stretching. "Usually Sita wakes up at 7:00! Wish I could teach her to sleep longer!"
"Some things are meant to be." Harish said with a laugh as he slipped the sarong over his head to put on his briefs and Bermudas.
Brad jumped out of bed, went into the bathroom, brushed his teeth, shaved showered and was out in fifteen minutes.
"That shower felt good," he stated entering the bedroom, drying his hair with the towel. Otherwise, he was nude, as usual.
Harish glanced up, noting his nudity and said, "Yep, some things don't change!"
They both laughed.
Actually, somethings had changed, or at least Harish was now aware of certain features that he hadn't been before. First, Brad was some what slimmer. Before, at the Klang School for Boys Brad had been quite muscular, at least for a seventeen year old. "He is," Harish thought, "still muscular, but not as heavily muscled--more Apollo like." Secondly, Harish's eyes lingered a bit longer on Brad's cock. He was aware of it from the various times he had glimpsed it at the Klang School, and the two times Harish had 'caught' him with those two underclassmen. But, now it seemed more prominent as it swung over ample, low-hanging balls. Quickly he averted his eyes and completed buckling his sandals.
Brad noticed the scrutiny and acknowledged it, to himself.
They swam all morning, ate lunch and again swam in the clear, warm water 'til mid afternoon. Exhilarated, but a bit tired from the sustained exercise, they both flopped on their beds an took refreshing naps.
Later, that evening they were strolling on the beach reveling in the salt air, the moist warmth and sharing all with a friend. "Let's get a drink," Brad suggested nodding to a beach front bar.
"Sure, but I've sworn of alcohol," Harish confessed.
"Why?"
"It makes me do strange things," Harish confessed.
"Like how strange?" Brad prodded.
Harish and Brad by now had begun to reveal to each other various likes and dislikes, ever deepening layers of their being, so it was not with great trepidation that Harish revealed the Grinnell experience.
Brad snorted, "That wouldn't make me stop drinking!"
"I don't imagine it would," Harish commented with a good-natured wink.
"You big shit!" Brad said, playfully punching Harish on the shoulder.
Both laughed and walked on.
They had walked a considerable distance, well past the crowded houses and small hotels. As the rounded a jutting pile of huge rocks, they came upon an idyllic small cove. They sat down on the beach and quietly listened to the waves rolling in.
"This is great!" Brad said.
"Yeah, perfect," Harish mumbled, then added, "Wish I had brought my suit. I could go for a swim."
"Me too . . . Hell! Let's swim," Brad declared, standing up and peeling of his polo shirt, followed by his shorts and briefs. He stood nude in the darkness, but close enough for Harish to see his body. "Hey, man, this place is really deserted, besides it really dark . . . no moon. Don't be a prick . . . come on strip and lets swim." Saying that Brad ran into the water.
"What the hell!" Harish thought and he too stripped and ran quickly into the water.
They swam around lazily for a few minutes. Then Brad found a clump of seaweed and tossed it at Harish . . . missing him. Harish tossed it back making a direct hit on Brad's head. Brad grabbed the seaweed and sprinted the short distance to Harish and firmly planted the soggy weed on his head.
One thing led to another and they were blithely wrestling in the water--a mock battle of dominance. They twisted, they turned, they lunged as would two water-borne stallions--each searching for an opening to assert their dominance. At one point Brad dove under and came up behind Harish. He grabbed him around the chest and tried to dunk him under the water. Their bodies were in close contact. As a matter of fact Harish was aware of the touch, aware of the contours of Brad's chest, belly and thighs as the pressed against his back--all this in order to subdue him, to bring him under his control.
Harish was especially aware of Brad's soft cock and it brushed and then pressed against his buttocks. The feeling, the awareness of the contact, the experience of the contact of Brad's body against his sent a shudder through Harish. He grabbed Brad's wrists and twisted out of the position only to be again grabbed around the waist and drawn back--this time facing Brad. It was a deadlock, a stalemate, a draw.
Harish felt his dick collide with Brad's. The meeting of their cocks created a spasm in Harish that he could not control. His dick began to become erect . . . and . . . he could detect the same reaction in Brad. Still Brad would not release him, struggling to triumph. Harish's ever hardening cock became an embarrassment. He struggled vainly for several minutes, then stopped in near exhaustion--equal in their strength and determination. By now his cock was fully erect, and so, Harish could feel, was Brad's. Both were panting. Both were looking into each other's eyes. Both were trembling.
Then Brad laid his head on Harish's shoulder and slowly and sensually moved his hips and cock back and forth against Harish. Harish was beginning to become erotically mesmerized by this action. Brad loosed one of his hands, slipped it between the bodies and grasped Harish's hard shaft. Again, Harish quivered. Gently Brad fondled his prick.
The action was was not unanticipated, was not unwanted. Somewhere in the back of Harish's mind was the knowledge that this contact was desired, was demanded. His consciousness, disciplined by years of cultural demands, was vaguely aware of this desire. The external, physical battle now moved inwards--the battle field was the mind. Without conscious volition, Harish moved his hand downward, between the two bodies and lightly grasped Brad's raging cock. He began stroked it. They stood in the water thus embraced for several seconds, reveling in each other's closeness, feel and touch.
Harish indulged himself in this sensuous, physical incident. Then his mind asserted itself and he said to himself, "What am I doing?"
Quickly he pushed Brad away, "I've got to go," he said out loud, and raced for the beach where he hastily donned his clothes.
Brad was confused for an instant, then slowly waded back to the beach and put on his clothes and followed Harish. The walk back to the bungalow was accomplished in thoughtful silence. Harish, especially carried on a long debate with himself, finally arriving at certain important, momentous conclusions.
As they both lay in their beds staring up at the ceiling in silence and in darkness, Brad spoke first, "I'm sorry I embarrassed you Harish."
"I wasn't embarrassed."
"Well, then, I'm sorry I upset you," came the reply.
"I wasn't upset either," Harish uttered the little lie.
"I'm sorry . . . I don't know why . . . I did that, . . . I didn't plan it!" he articulated hesitantly.
"Brad, there's nothing to be sorry about. It happened." Harish could hear Brad's deep breathing punctuated by seconds of prolonged silence and then an almost silent sob. "Don't worry about it Brad," he said softly.
After a deep, gasping intake of air, "Forgive me . . . I'm sorry I did that!."
Harish replied slowly, with full knowledge and accepting certain conclusions, "I'm not!"
The many weeks that they had been in contact with each other, the long hours of open frank talk had all but erased the negative memories Harish had harbored about the past. They had been replaced by a growing warm friendship. That, punctuated by the past twenty-four hours--especially the sight of Brad's beautiful, pale nude body--had fired a desire in Harish that he had not wanted to face before. The 'play' in the cove had primed and triggered that yearning. And, the long silent walk back, during which time Harish carried on an internal debate, brought that desire to a head. Then, Brad's obvious present dispirited state released the knowledge. He knew the thing that he now craved!
Harish swung out of the bed and took the several steps over to Brad's bed. Sitting on the edge he placed his hand gently on Brad's chest. "Don't feel bad, I don't," he said tenderly.
The touch of Harish's hand on his chest was an unexpected shock. Brad opened his tear filled eyes to see Harish's calm beautiful face looking into his. Confused, he blurted out, "Oh, God, Harish, ever since I was a kid, part of me has wanted to be with you. I never thought we'd see each other again. Then theses past weeks, after meeting you . . . has made me so happy. Then tonight! I think I've ruined it!"
Without responding Harish bent over, kissed away the tears from Brad's eyes and then placed a warm tender kiss on his lips. Realizing the import of that action, Brad's body began to quake with emotional release--quiet sobbing--and he wrapped his arms around that beautiful brown body, pulling it to him. He buried his face into Harish's shoulder and just held him there.
After a few minutes Harish could feel Brad's emotion subsiding. Simultaneously he became aware of his own growing desire. In the past, Harish had generally been the more passive one. Even with Rebecca, he allowed her to initiate their love making. That is not to say that once he had been suitably aroused he continued his passivity. Indeed, the opposite was often true. However, now Harish became the initiator!
Harish moved his hand on Brad's chest until it was positioned over his pink aureole and erect nipple. Slowly he began to roll that little button between his thumb and index finger. He became aware of Brad's shifting mood and squeezed that hard nipple once or twice before tracing his hand downward. He felt Brad's quick intake of breath as the latter anticipated the next sensation. Lightly Harish massaged that brawny abdomen's layered muscles. The searching, sensitized hand moved even lower, under the waist band of the briefs, until his finger tips contacted that mass of curly hair at the base of the belly. Again Brad gasped, but still clung to Harish's torso.
Slowly, deliberately, Harish encircled the now rigid shaft of Brad's substantial cock and squeezed it lightly. Brad groaned! He moved his warm, encircling fingers up the shaft and over the super-sensitive, bulging head.
"Ahhh!" exploded from Brad's lips as he released his hold around Harish's chest and torqued his body from the sensation.
Released from the encircling arms, Harish turned to face what his hand held, gently eased the briefs downward, regrasped the upward pointing, unyielding rod, bent over it and encircled the mushroom head with his hot, moist lips. His tongue swirled round that domed form in his mouth. Each powerful sensation was stored in his mind, indelibly. He reveled at the feel of that cock-head in his mouth. He never imagined that it could feel so exciting! After all, this was the first time for Harish!
"Ohhhh, God!" gasped Brad.
Harish lowered his head further, 'til nearly half of that big thing was in his mouth and savored it as well. By now Brad's head was rolling from side to side--a reaction to the delicious sensations Harish's mouth engendered. Harish withdrew slightly, concentrating again on the head--making a mental and sensual note of every contour, every sensation, every reaction.
Brad's emotionally drained condition was bringing him quickly, more quickly than usual to the brink of release. He wanted it to last longer! He quickly sat up, while at the same time he grasped Harish's head and lifted it off his super-heated, super hard cock.
Harish was mildly surprised. He looked into Brad's eyes.
"That's fantastic! Where did you learn to do that?" Brad breathed with a smile.
Harish smiled too. And peacefully, with deliberation confessed, "Well . . . if the truth is to be known . . . this is the first time . . ."
"First time?" Brad queried, not really understanding the import of Harish's statement.
Still smiling, Harish replied calmly, "This is the first time I have ever sucked a guy's cock."
Brad's eyes widened as he gazed into Harish's eyes for a moment, "The first time!"
Harish smiled and nodded his head.
The full significance dawned on Brad. He slowly shook his head as he fully comprehended the revelation. "Oh, my beautiful Harish . . ." he uttered, then bent forward and planted a long probing kiss on his lips.
Harish wrapped his arms around Brad and drew him even closer.
With an urgent need, Brad's hand fumbled in the folds of Harish's sarong, seeking his hard cock. Harish gently pushed Brad away, stood up, deftly undid the folded waist of the sarong and let it fall to the floor, completely revealing his dark glistening body with its unbending, outstanding cock in the dim light. Brad urgently reached around Harish's hips, grasped his muscled ass-cheeks and drew that dark, pink-headed cock into his mouth and lavished it with unbridled attention.
In the dim light, Harish looked down as his dark cock disappeared into Brad's mouth. The sensations of the hot, wet mouth of Brad sliding down and over his cock was astounding! He thrust his hips forward, forcing his cock deeper into Brad's throat. Thus coupled they occupied each other for several minutes.
Then Harish pulled back, gently forced Brad into a prone position and laid beside him on the bed, in a sixty-nine position. Instantly both plunged their mouths over the facing cocks. They squirmed and thrust as they avidly sucked each other.
They had both simultaneously rose to a level of near release. Then Brad torqued his body, swung around and positioned Harish on his back in the middle of the bed. Harish flashed a questioning glance to Brad.
"Be still, my beautiful Har," he said as he fumbled in his shaving kit on the bedside table, withdrawing a plastic bottle. He opened it and squeezed a liberal amount of its contents into his hand and then anointed Harish's cock with it. It was cool and slippery.
There was the sound of a deep intake of breath across clenched teeth from Harish. "That feels great!"
Brad straddled Harish's thighs, squeezed another dollop of lubricant into his hand, reached around his hips and slathered it on his quaking asshole. Carefully he slipped a finger inside imparting part of the lubricant on the interior of that tightly clenched opening.
"What . . .?" began Harish.
"Quiet, Har!" he gently commanded and then declared, "I want to sit on you cock!" Saying that he shifted upward 'til his quivering asshole was positioned over Harish's throbbing cock.
"Lay still," he said, "Let me do it at my own speed."
Harish complied.
Brad clutched Harish's hard cock and began to rub its head back and forth over that tightly pursed hole. The sensations was pleasant for both. Brad felt small cosmic spasms engendered by the knowledge and the touch of the big, glistening plum moving over his puckered asshole. Then he bore down slightly so that the head exerted pressure on that opening. The gates did not yield.
Brad began to concentrate, breathed deeply and tried to forced himself to relax. The oxygen flowing into his being through the deep breathing caused that puckered, muscle opening to relax slightly--enough so that Harish's cock-head popped inside. Brad gasped in surprise--there was a strange admixture of pain and pleasure--as his up-to-now virgin asshole was 'deflowered.' He held his position a second or two until he became accustomed to the strange but exciting sensation.
The feeling of his cock entering that confining, hot hole brought a deep sigh from Harish. He recalled the sensation when the trainer first sat on his cock. In the dim light he concentrated on Brad's face. He noticed that as his cock-head slipped passed the tightly muscled opening, a grimace flashed across Brad's face.
"Am I hurting you?" he asked, truly concerned.
Brad opened his eyes and replied, "No . . . It just feels . . . . so different." He continued to take deep breaths.
Harish's eyes widened in disbelief. "Brad, has a guy ever fucked you before?"
Again concentrating, eyes shut, Brad shook his had slowly. Almost immediately he detected a lessening in the firmness of Harish's cock.
"Why . . . ?" Harish questioned.
Quickly Brad placed his hand over Harish' mouth, "Shhhh! My beautiful Har. You just gave me a wonderful gift, I want to return the favor." With the realization that Harish's cock was not the raging rod it had been a minute ago, but a somewhat softer muscle, still stiff, but now not unyielding, Brad bore all the way down. Easily its length slipped past that tense portal, the discomfort now was almost completely replaced with a new and incredible sensation.
Harish gasped at this unexpected movement and the feeling of his cock now completely encased in Brad's hot ass. Brad slowly raised his torso a short distance and bore down again. He established a slow sensual rhythm in which his hot, virgin ass fucked Harish's cock. In no time that insinuating cock was again rock hard and completely supercharged. Every time Brad bore down, Harish tightened his buttocks thrusting his cock upwards a bit. Each wallowed in the delightful sensations that they were receiving and, also, in the pleasure that they knew they were also giving the other. Their passion multiplied exponentially.
Harish grasped Brads raging cock and began to fondle it with wanton lust. "Can I tell you something?" he inquired.
"Of course," Brad replied with a passion laden voice.
"I would love to suck you and fuck you at the same time, . . . if that were possible!"
"Let's see if it is?"Brad said lifting himself off Harish's long cock.
Harish sat up and watched Brad as he took the pillow and folded it in quarters. Laid back down on the bed, positioned the pillow under his ass, elevating it and brought his flexed knees to his chest. His ass-hole was exposed and inviting.
"Now, crawl over here, my beautiful Tamil and shove that cock of yours back into my ass," he commanded. Harish complied. His knees spread so that they were on either side of the pillow, he carefully slipped his cock back into Brad's voluptuous, tight fuck tunnel. Brad groaned, this time in pleasure. Slowly Harish began moving his turgid cock in and out.
"Now, can you bend over and suck my cock?" he asked.
Harish had always been supple and relatively flexible. He arched over dropped his head and was amazed that he could accommodate nearly half the length of Brad's cock in his mouth. Slowly he fucked that steamy, hot ass, and just as slowly he sucked that equally hot tumescent cock.
Brad gasped, "Oh, my God. Nobody has ever done that to be before!" Brad had had numerous same sex experiences while he was young, but the incredible sensations of his ass being fucked and simultaneously his cock being sucked was indescribably delicious!
Thus engaged they brought each other to a roaring crescendo. Harish lunged deep into Brad's ass and simultaneously Brad thrust his cock almost totally into Harish's throat. Both groaned deeply. It was that primordial utterance of absolute, cosmic release! Breathing quickened with the undeniable urgency that was groin centered. The urge took control as both raced towards the edge. Then that heavenly, cosmic explosion in which nothing else matters except the release! Each flooded the other with copious amounts of lustral cum. Harish nearly gagged as his mouth was filled with Brad's hot cum. It was the thought nof his mouth being flooded with another man's cum that caused the reaction. He suppressed the reaction.
They withdrew and Harish quickly went to the bathroom where he spit out the viscuous fluid. He returned and laid, breathless next to Brad. Each other reveling in their and their partner's afterglow.
After a few minutes Brad chuckled, half out loud.
"What's so funny?" Harish asked in mock chagrin.
"I was just thinking that I've had a lot of guys suck me and I've fucked a number too . . . . and I've sucked a couple . . . but never, NEVER in my wildest dreams did I ever think that I'd let a guy fuck me!"
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure," Brad assented.
"How did you know about . . . the pillow . . . and . . . stuff?"
"Are you the jealous type?" Brad chided.
"No, but you seemed to know what to do . . . and I thought . . . ," his voice trailed off.
Brad snorted, "I fucked a guy once, years ago in K. L. who did that . . . and while I was fucking him he said, 'you can suck my cock at the same time, if you want to.' I didn't. I couldn't, but I didn't forget the possibility!"
"Lucky for me," laughed Harish.
They simultaneously turned towards each other entwined their arms and legs and quickly fell into a deep slumber. It was a slumber reserved for lovers. That was what Harish and Brad were from that moment on.
The next morning Brad awoke before Harish, disentangled himself and went into the bathroom to shower. He was half through when the glass door was opened and Harish stepped in.
"Mind some company?" Harish questioned.
"Love it!" Brad replied, planting a quick kiss on Harish's lips. He gleefully adding, "What no sarong? You're naked . . . you wanton boy!"
Harish smiled wryly, "I guess that's what happens when you consort with a matsalleh!"
The next day they arrived in K. L. late in the afternoon and decided to have an early, light supper at The Lotus. It had become a special place for them.