VI First Fruits
Harish and Brad had been together numerous times in the past four months since that weekend at Port Dickson. Their meetings most of the time were consumed by hot passionate bouts of love making, punctuated by short sessions of conversation, mostly revolving around the wonder of their new-found relationship, or dinners hastily consumed. There was generally the issue of time as Brad needed to return home relatively early and to Sita who was in a baby-sitter's care.
It was Brad who took the initiative, phoning one Friday and said, "Harish, I think we need to talk."
"I know . . . I agree." Both recognized that there needed to be a session in which certain things had to be discussed objectively. Physically, they were a perfect match, they matched intellectually as well, but there were impediments that if they did not meet head on, might cause a separation later. A possibility that neither wanted.
"Can we meet for dinner at The Fireside?"
"Sure. A quiet neutral place," he commented in a nonjudgmental manner.
They arrived separately. Harish showed up first then two minutes later Brad entered and took the seat opposite. They chatted amiably about their day for a time. Later, over desert, Brad said, "Harish, I need to tell you that I am falling in love with you."
"I believe that I feel the same," came the short answer offered without compunction.
"I don't want anything to happen that might jeopardize this. I've lost one whom I've loved, I don't want to lose another. But there are things that we need to discuss now."
"I agree."
"I said I'm falling in love with you and I think that you are with me." Harish nodded. "But there is an undeniable precondition to such a relationship." Harish knitted his brow not understanding Brads inference. "My first responsibility has to be Sita," Brad stated.
"Of course, I realize that."
"I know that we haven't discussed the possibility, but we are arriving at the point when we will probably consider living together. When that happens, then it must be with the proviso that Sita's position as my daughter is not compromised at all."
"Brad, I want you to know that in no way do I, or would I ever want to come between you and Sita."
Brad smiled. Over the period of time since they had met again, Sita had been included in a number of their get-togethers. Both Harish and Sita seemed to warm to each other from the first meeting.
"And . . . there's another impending problem . . . a cultural problem . . ." Harish knitted his brows again, trying to detect what was coming. "I know that soon your family will expect you to take a wife . . ."
Harish smiled wanly, "That will be my problem."
"No Harish. That's not true. It will affect you and, therefore, affect me. I know the strength of the Tamil family, and especially your family. I know that your refusal to marry would cause major dissension, even a split in your family. I would not want to be the cause of that. I also know that there is no question at all for of you admitting that you would prefer to live with me than getting married."
"Brad let's cross that bridge when we come to it . . . "
"Harish, I think that we have to face it now! If it comes to the point where you feel that you have to . . . must marry, and you do marry, then I can only say that I hope you will be happy. I'm not being altruistic. I hope that it never comes to that, but, chances are it will. And, I want to state emphatically, that if you marry, I would hope that we can remain good friends, but our relationship as it has developed over the past weeks would have to cease! Your responsibility will have to be to that family. I will not be your 'mistress.'"
There was a certain tension in the air. Brad had verbalized what Harish had begun to ponder over the past couple of weeks. Certainly since he, too, realized that his feelings for Brad were deepening. Harish was falling in love with Brad, although he had not yet come to the point where he could emphatically verbalize his feelings to Brad.
Smiling at Brad first with understanding and compassion and then with a certain mirth, he uttered, "'Mistress?' Brad, that's one thing I could never consider you! You've got balls!"
Brad chuckled, realizing that the term was probably not appropriate in his case and said, "You know what I mean!"
"Yes I do, and I agree. It may be a problem . . ."
With insistence, "'May be?' No, Harish it most probably will be. How will you handle it?"
"I don't know," he answered quietly, "I've been thinking about the same thing these past couple of weeks . . . I don't know."
They sat in silence for a couple of minutes pondering the problem, their problem.
"I know I don't want a quid pro quo relationship!" Harish blurted out. "If we are to be together it must be on an equal basis for both . . . a total commitment . . . But at this point . . . I just don't know."
"I think that we have to do some serious thinking . . . and . . . on a purely personal . . . and maybe a selfish level . . . I need to know where we're going before I allow myself to be completely and undeniably in love with you. I don't think I want to go through another loss like I suffered with Kalanya."
"I know . . ." was all Harish could say.
They left the restaurant and went to their respective apartments. They had thought would be wise. Both racked their brains for solutions. Answers didn't always appear.
Life has a way of delivering a back-handed slap from time to time. Some times one is completely devastated other times the result may be fortuitous.
Sunday, right after noon, Harish's phone rang. He answered it, "Hello?"
"Harish?" Instantly he recognized the voice! "This is Rebecca."
"Yes, I know . . . How are you?"
"I'm fine . . . I know that this is a bolt out of the blue. I know also, that maybe you won't want to talk to me . . ."
"No, that's not true," he said, in near total shock.
"I would like to see you Harish."
"Oh?"
"Would that be possible?" she inquired.
"Yes, of course, but as you may know I have moved back to Malaysia," then he added, "When?"
"Would this afternoon be possible?"
"What! Where are you?" he asked in shocked disbelief.
"I'm here, in Kuala Lumpur."
All he could say was, "Kuala Lumpur?" He trembled in disbelief and shock from hearing from her. His being had nearly healed completely from her disappearance. Now the painful wound opened slightly. And, now she had reappeared here in K. L.
"Harish?"
"Yes," he answered sounding like an automaton.
"Could we meet this afternoon?"
"Yes, . . . . Where?"
"I'm staying at the Regency, would that be convenient?"
"Yes, . . . . what time?"
"Would 3:00 be suitable?"
"Yes, . . . . I'll be there."
"Fine, I'll meet you in the lobby. 'Til 3:00 then . . ."
"Yes, . . . . I'll be there." He hung up the phone and noticed his hand was trembling. Had he had a mirror handy he would have observed that his mahogany color had taken on a distinctly ashen pallor.
The phone rang again. Quickly he lifted the receiver and blurted out an uncharacteristic, "Yes?"
"Did I get you at a bad time?" he heard Brad ask.
"No," was all he could say.
After a second or two silence Brad probed, "Harish, something's wrong! What's the matter?"
Harish related the happenings of the past few minutes as well as his shock and disbelief.
"Harish," Brad said quietly, "What do you think . . . what do you feel?"
"Brad, I don't know . . . I simply don't know!" Then in a leaden voice he added, "I will call you later."
"Okay," was all Brad could say. They hung up.
"As if there aren't problems enough!" both thought.
As Harish taxied to the Regency, he tried to make some sense of his feelings. He could not! He was in a maelstrom of emotions--some sweet, some painful--but he could make no sense of anything at this moment. He walked into the luxurious lobby of the Regency and glanced around. Almost at the same time a lobby elevator opened and Rebecca stepped out. She was just as he had remembered her, beautiful! Maybe, a couple of pounds heavier--her features seemed a bit rounder which only added to her natural and considerable allure. Harish felt the hairs of his neck stand up.
She calmly walked up to him, placed a warm kiss on his lips and said, "Harish, you look wonderful."
"So do you," he replied trying to fight back the reaction that her kiss had engendered.
"Let's go to the coffee shop," she suggested and led the way.
They each ordered a cool drink.
"I know you're wondering what caused me to suddenly appear in K. L.?" she started.
Harish nodded his head silently. He was still trying to sort out his feelings, especially with her sitting across the table from him.
"More to the point, I need to tell you why I left Madison . . ." Harish sat motionless. "After you left my parents house that day, there were things said to me that were so brutal, so cutting that I had to leave. I had to sort a lot of things out in my life. Make some decisions. I needed to be alone to do that. I knew that if I saw you first, I would probably not have to courage to do what I had to. So I left for Seattle. I had an inheritance from my grandmother, so I didn't need to worry about money.
"I have decided not to have any contact with my parents . . . at least for the time being. Since then, there are two important decisions I have made. First, while in Seattle, I met this man, a physician. One thing led to another, and I have decided to marry him. He's a wonderful man, maybe a bit conservative, but wonderful, nonetheless."
Harish took this news with just a slight twinge of emotion.
"The second decision, has to do with you. You may . . ." she stopped in mid sentence as she glanced over Harish's shoulder towards the entrance to the cafe. She waved her hand and called out, "I'm over here Marie."
A neatly dressed, middle aged woman came up to the table leading a toddler. Harish glanced at the child, a little boy. He had the strangest sensation that he recognized the child. The little boy had dark, curly hair, brown eyes and skin the color of honey. He glanced at Rebecca who was looking intently at Harish and then back to the child. Suddenly, the blinding light of recognition shot through his consciousness.
Slowly he turned back to Rebecca who was now smiling at Harish.
"Harish, this is Matthew . . . Matthew Kumar Reynolds, My son," and then deliberately and slowly, "Our . . . son."
Harish felt suddenly hot and cold at the same time. He was struck dumb.
"This was the second decision I made. I was not going to tell you, but, that would not have been fair to you. You were so wonderful to me. You need to know."
The rest of the afternoon was a blur to Harish. He would remember it all later, but the shock of Rebecca's revelation was nearly total for the present.
He thought of calling Brad, but Harish's need was more elemental than that. He needed his family. As he left the Regency on leaden feet, glanced into his wallet and decided he had enough money for taxi fare to the plantation and his parents home. All the way there he pondered the revelation and all it implied. Rebecca was not vindictive, actually she was quite equitable and serene, wanting only to inform Harish. She demanded nothing, but stated that she would remain in K. L. for three more days and would see Harish if and whenever he wanted.
He was greeted at his parents humble house with warmth, as always, and a little inquisitiveness at his sudden and unannounced arrival. They went inside, his mother prepared tea and brought out a plate of curry-puffs, one of her specialties. As custom demanded they talked of little things at first. After about twenty minutes Harish informed his parents of his startling news. He had not even related to his family that he was dating Rebecca when he was in Madison. Such a revelation would have caused too much commotion, too many questions. After he had finished his revelation his parents sat quietly. His mother looking at her gnarled hands folded placidly in her lap, and his father gazed out the window. As a matter of fact their reaction was a combination of normal cultural reserve and, they were stunned!
Then the questions came flooding out of their mouths.
"My son, how could you let this happen?"
"Why weren't you more careful?"
"Have you no thought for the family?"
"What about the child, he has no father?"
"Will we ever see our grand child?"
"Why?"
Harish answered all the questions as best as he was able.
Then as his mother was about to ask another pointed question, Kumar raised his hand and said, "Enough!"
Lalita again began to ask another question. "Enough, wife! I said enough," he stated with authority tinged with warmth. She fell silent.
"My son, what did you say the boy's name was?"
"Matthew Kumar Reynolds," Harish answered.
"Then he does not carry your name?"
"No, but my name is on his birth certificate." Then Harish added, quietly, "He does carry your name, Pa-pa."
Kumar smiled slightly, "A boy should carry his father's name . . . and what does Matthew mean?"
"I don't know, Pa-pa, except I think that he was a holy man," Harish mumbled in reply.
"Not Hindu!" his mother spat out, "He's a Christian saint!"
"A holy man is a holy man . . . it makes no difference," Kumar answered calmly.
They talked more, with less agitation. Harish respectfully answered or calmly explained all that was needed. Darkness had fallen and they finally fell silent, purged of all emotion, utterly drained.
Harish finally said, "It's getting late, I need to get back to K. L."
"I'll walk down to the road with you," Kumar said. "You might have to wait a while for a taxi."
He respectfully kissed his mother's hands. She, uncharacteristically, embraced him. He and his father walked into the darkness down the narrow road to the main thoroughfare.
"I guess Ma-ma is quite upset," Harish admitted.
"Yes, but she'll get over it . . . even though she's a Christian, she wanted a nice Tamil girl for you."
Harish just smiled. "And what do you think, Pa-pa?"
"Well . . . I can't say I'm happy . . . Your son should have your name . . . that's only right."
"I know, Pa-pa."
"She must be a pretty special lady!"
"She is, Pa-pa."
"No, I mean special since she fell in love with you . . . I mean . . . because . . . you're special."
Kumar had never uttered such words before. Yet, somehow Harish knew that his father loved his children. But, saying this was "special." They walked on in silence.
It was late when Harish called Brad to account for this day. Brad was dumfounded.
"What are you going to do?" he asked.
"I don't know . . . I need some time to think . . . but there's so little time. Most of all I need sleep. I'm exhausted!"
"Okay, go to bed now," Brad said, adding, "and take a shot of that brandy of mine in the cupboard. You're alone, so there should be no problem."
Harish smiled, "Okay, goodnight," and he hung up.
He took Brad's advice, but not before contacting his supervisor and requesting a three day leave. Since Harish was a definite asset to the company, and since he had always been punctual as well as spending long hours after closing time, his request was granted. He showered, bolted down a shot of brandy, flopped into bed and fell immediately into a deep and cleansing sleep.
Mid morning, after rousing himself, he called Rebecca and made plans to meet for lunch. Upon meeting her, he was able to talk more calmly. They talked about all the important issues.
"Rebecca," Harish asked, "I would like my parents to see Matthew. Do you think it would be possible for us to do that . . . maybe tomorrow afternoon?"
"Of course," came the answer.
"But, I must warn you . . . you know my parents live simply . . . it's not even remotely what you're used to."
She smiled. "Harish, you must think I'm a hot-house plant! However your parents live is unimportant. They are obviously wonderful people. Look at you! No . . . . don't worry about that."
Later that afternoon he called the plantation office and asked them to relay the information to his parents. They assured them that they would.
Harish, Rebecca and Matthew spent the rest of the day together. The parents discussed important, troubling issues.
Tuesday afternoon they, Rebecca, Matthew and Harish, took a taxi to the plantation. Matthew was a placid child and happily played on Harish's lap. Soon the motion of the car caused him to fall asleep in his arms. He looked at the child with a combination of wonder, love and amazement. Rebecca repeatedly glanced at Harish and their child. She smiled. She knew that she had done the right thing.
As the taxi pulled up to the simple dwelling, Lalita and Kumar came out, onto the porch. Rebecca and Harish, who was carrying Matthew, stepped out of the taxi and walked across the dirt yard to them. The taxi parked and waited. After the brief introduction, Lalita looked at Matthew and tears flooded her eyes.
"He looks so much like you Harish," she said. Then glancing at Rebecca she said, "May I hold the child?"
"Of course," Rebecca answered with a warm smile.
Lalita held the child who was gazing intently at his grandmother. She cuddled the child close to her and began crooning an old lullaby. It was so familiar to Harish. Kumar looked at Matthew and beamed.
Suddenly, Lalita glanced up and said, "Excuse me. I've lost my manners. Please, come in out of the heat."
They walked in, and Harish noted two chairs that had not been there the other day. Lalita gave the baby back to Harish and brought tea and curry-puffs to the table. They chatted and nibbled on the tasty pastries.
After an appropriate length of time Harish started, "Ma-ma, Pa-pa, there are some things that I think you should know." Lalita and Kumar looked intently at their son. He continued, "Rebecca and Matthew are leaving tomorrow. We have discussed a number of things. First, she has consented to change Matthew's name to Matthew Harish a/l Kumar Reynolds."
Lalita and Kumar exchanged glances and Kumar nodded his head to his wife. "Secondly, I will travel to America every other year for two weeks to see Matthew and on the alternate years, Rebecca will bring him here to Malaysia."
Again his parents exchanged glances . . . this time concerned glances. Travel to America was not cheap and they worried about the drain on Harish's budget. On the other hand, Harish had considered that, and felt that he could afford the trip every two years with some adjustment to his budget. "Third, I will be sending support money on a monthly basis . . . not a lot . . . but he is my child and I insisted!"
Lalita's and Kumar's concern now flashed across their face. "But, when you marry," Lalita asked, concerned, "how can you support two families?"
"Whether I marry or not . . . now . . . I have yet to decide," Harish calmly replied. "I will cross that bridge when I come to it."
Lalita shot a frantic glance to Kumar who was watching his son, seemingly unconcerned. "Fourth, when Matthew is old enough, probably around seven or eight years old, he will spend his summer holiday here in Malaysia with me."
"Fifth, when he reaches high school age, we, Rebecca, Matthew and I, will decide whether he is to attend school in America or here in Malaysia."
Lalita and Kumar were becoming overwhelmed with all the information and implications. They now sat impassively, but listened intently. "Lastly, where Matthew decides to attend university will be up to him. These are the things we have discussed thoroughly and we both agree."
The four sat quietly for several minutes. Lalita and Kumar need time to digest what they had just heard. It was Lalita, the practical one, who spoke first. "Puan Rebecca, Harish had said that you will soon be married."
"Yes, Ma'am, in three months."
"Will your husband accept Matthew? Will he be good to him?"
"Oh, yes! John is a wonderful man and he loves Matthew almost as much as me. Please, don't worry about that. That was my first concern! If I felt that there would be the least amount of . . . animosity . . . trouble, I would have ended it, immediately."
Kumar, after reflecting asked, "Will he want to adopt Matthew?"
"Yes, he would have wanted to do that. But, I had a long conversation with him last night. I told him what Harish and I had agreed upon, and he, too, agrees. Matthew will have Harish's name."
There were other questions, detail questions, little questions. The tension that had existed at the beginning had lessened considerably. As they were about to depart, Harish took leave of his parents in the usual manner. Rebecca thought that the reserve exhibited in the traditional parting did not mask the obvious affection of parents for son, and son for parents. Lalita took Matthew in her arms murmured something that was meant only for the child's ears and kissed his forehead. Kumar, who, up until that time, had not touched Matthew, laid his hand on his grandson's forehead and also murmured something. Harish, smiled. He recognized a Tamil blessing. They left, and as they motored down the road Rebecca glanced back in time to see Lalita throw her hands up to her face, crying, and Kumar soothing her with a quick embrace. She smiled. She was nervous about meeting his parents, but after the initial contact, she felt a growing and reciprocal warmth develop
between them. "I have made the right decision!" she murmured to herself.
That night, Harish called Brad and related to him all that had gone on. "They are leaving tomorrow. I'll be taking them to K. L. I. A. at 3:00. Their flight's at 5:00. I should be back no later than 7:00. Could I see you then?"
"Yes, of course," replied Brad. "I'll meet you at your place?"
"Could you?"
"I'll be there!"
Harish got back at 6:30. He was drained. He needed a shower, so he stripped and took a long, invigorating shower. Just as he was toweling off the door bell rang. He looked through the peephole to be greeted by Brad's smiling face. He opened the door.
"Come in . . . . sorry I haven't been more communicative lately."
"That's understandable! How are you feeling?"
"Better now, but a little drained," he said as he sat in an easy chair. Brad sat near him on the sofa.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Yeah . . . I do." He told Brad about all that happened the past few days. Brad sat in silence intently listening and trying to perceive any problems or innuendoes. After Harish finished they sat in silence for a minute or two.
Then Brad said, "Harish, . . . can I ask . . . a question?"
"Sure, what?"
Brad choose his words carefully. "I just want to know . . . if . . . if this changes . . . things between . . . us?"
Harish thought for a few seconds, smiled and said, "No, but it presents some questions."
"Like what?"
"Well, I do have a responsibility now I didn't have before."
"You forget, I have a similar responsibility!"
"Yes, I know, but I don't want you to think that if I am with Matthew in the future, . . . that it will make any difference . . . "
"I know that!"
They were silent for a few moments more. Then, Harish took a deep breath and said, "All this has made a lot of things coalesce, come into focus. Brad, I know I haven't said this to you before . . . in so many words . . . but, I think that I am falling in love with you . . ."
Brad had told Harish several weeks ago that he was falling in love with Harish. He had done it with honest intentions. He did not do it to illicit the same response from Harish. He knew Harish was a naturally reserved person and he would tell him in his own time . . . if at all. Yet, he was a wee bit hurt when Harish did not reciprocate with a like admission. Now that was all in the past!
Barely had the words fallen from Harish's lips than Brad reached over, clutched Harish's face saying, "Oh, Harish. . . you have made me so happy! I love you."
Brad went home, but returned early the next morning. Harish had showered and was swathed in a towel.They embraced. They kissed long and hard, their tongues doing a little dance in their mouths. Then sat on the sofa.
Brad knelt in front of Harish, unfastened the towel, parted it, fondled Harish's cock and said, "I want to give you a little present, my love."
Brad's hand on Harish's cock brought the known result and it quickly sprang to erection. Slowly Brad pushed back the satiny foreskin and watched as the pink-lavender head revealed itself. "How beautiful it is!" he exclaimed and reached down and planted a wet kiss on the head.
The sensation and knowledge of Brad's lips on his cock-head, caused a deep sigh. Harish slid his hips forward a little and dropped his head on the soft back of the sofa reveling in the feeling.
Slowly Brad encircled that prominent plum-head with his tongue, lingering slightly at that ridge of skin--the frenum--and paid special attention to that sensitive ridge of skin. Harish arched his back in delicious agony. Brad retracted the foreskin back over the head and gazed at the beautiful, frilled extention. Gently he clasped the edge of the extention and pulled it to the side, creating a little cavern into which he slipped the tip of his tongue. He loved to do that. He found Harish's foreskin incredibly exciting and stimulating. A number of times in the weeks that they had been together, Harish had, more than once, commented on the intense interest Brad had with his foreskin. "I think you have a foreskin fetish!" he once said, laughing.
Brad slipped the foreskin back down again, laid his tongue along the underside of that bulbous head and then drew the foreskin back--encasing his tongue in the hot satiny flap.
The sensations were getting too much for Harish. He sat up, clasped Brads face and planted a hot moist kiss on his lips and said, "Oh . . . . that feels sooo god . . . I want to suck your cock too!"
"No, my love," Brad said, gently pushing Harish back into that semi-prone position. "I just want you to enjoy what I enjoy doing to you." With that he bent over and took the whole length of Harish's cock into his mouth. Harish gasped! It had not been easy for Brad to take all of the big cock, but he found that if he opened his mouth wide, when he went down on it, he could accommodate the whole thing. Then he'd clamp his lips around the base and move his tongue along the underside. He also found that if he swallowed, it caused delicious spasms to caress that hard cock. With Harish, Brad had become an avid cock sucker. He loved it . . . more to the point he loved Harish.
In no time Harish began to spiral out of control. Little lights began to pop. He became imminently aware of the pressure in his groin--that impending cosmic explosion. thrust his hips forward. Brad smiled to himself. He knew the signs and he bobbed up and down on that turgid pole faster and deeper.
Harish suddenly arched his back, elevating his ass off of the cushion and uttered a primitive groan. At the same instant Brad could feel that big cock swell even more before his mouth was flooded with copious amounts of hot cum.
Harish fell back into the chair, utterly exhausted and completely sated.
Both men were breathing heavily, Harish with his head lolling on the chair back, and Brad nestled between Harish's legs and his head resting on one thigh. Mouth and cock were merely millimeters apart. Harish marveled at the feeling of Brad's hot breath on his equally hot cock.
Twenty minutes later, Brad woke with a start. Harish raised his head, looked down into the warm eyes of Brad, "That was wonderful . . . so nice . . . " he said with a warm smile. "Just what I needed . . ."
Brad shifted and stood up as did Harish and they embraced warmly.
"I got to go, Harish," Brad whispered as he ran his hands down Harish's smooth, muscled back.
"I know," Harish whispered back.
Brad cupped Harish's hard, firm, muscular ass in his splayed hands. "You have the nicest ass," he murmured.
Harish smiled and hugged Brad even closer. Brad released his grip and placed a short kiss on Harish's lips. "I've got to go," he stated, and stepped back. "Call me later?'
"Yes," came the answer, and, "Oh, by the way, I have something for you." Saying this he went to the desk, opened the top drawer and took out a small manila envelope and handed it to Brad.
Brad's brows knitted quizzically, "What is it?"
"A key to the apartment," Harish answered. "It would be crazy now for you to have to ring the bell every time you come over."
"What does this mean?"
"Merely a token of convenience towards . . . someone whom . . . I love," he murmured a bit embarrassed to utter these words. They were not new for him, He had told Rebecca that he had loved her. But, that was centuries ago, in another world, in another time. They were new when uttered to Brad.
There were things, not obstacles, between the two. They were not insurmountable!
Until the weekend at Port Dickson, Brad had never participated in anal intercourse. He felt that it wasn't manly to lay on your back with your legs spread and thrown back. But, for him, with Harish, it wasn't a question of misguided machismo. For some reason, when he sat on Harish's cock, it was desirable and quite natural. Afterwards, he questioned why he, Brad Forsythe, the consummate fucker, had relented, even assumed the initiative and taken Harish's big cock up his ass. He remembered the discomfort, the strange feeling of being stuffed with that big cock. He remembered that towards the end of the session, there arose such a delectable feeling caused by that hard shaft sliding in and out of his tight hole. The two times since then, when Harish fucked him, Brad had, likewise, assumed the first step and instigated the action. Each time the sensations grew to the point that the feeling of Harish fucking him was quite pleasant, deliciously so. It could
not be said that Brad was becoming a fuck queen, Not that he had anything against a strict bottom, but, would it ever come to that. He merely enjoyed it, intensely, from time to time. He was versatile!
On the other hand, he had, on one occasion since Port Dickson, the strongest urge, need, desire to fuck Harish. He had transmitted his desire to Harish. Harish said, "No," in no uncertain terms. I was not an issue for Brad. It was just something that Harish could not do, again a cultural issue and he accepted it with only he slightest reluctance.
Brad had early on realized that he was falling in love with Harish. So, the intimacies that they had, the kissing, caressing, sucking, etc., were things that Brad had wanted. In the past, when he had sex with other guys, it was simply that, sex! He had been mentally, spiritually detached. He was only getting his cock sucked or fucking some guy's ass. Nothing more!
Yet, with Harish, there was the close communion of spirit that grew. It was a condition that Brad had only felt once before. It was the intimacy, the holding back of nothing, the sharing of everything that had assumed major proportion in his feeling for Harish. He accepted his occasional need of sex with a guy, but it had never been an issue with him. Still, Brad marveled that this feeling had germinated and grown between himself and for another man. It was not a condition he would have expected to happen. Not one that he had planned, or even sought. But, it existed, strong and viable.
Harish, on the other hand, had a completely different set of issues to deal with. He was raised in a milieu that was essentially opposite from that of Brad. In his family, sex was not taboo, it simply was not talked about! The exception was with one's peers, but, never the family! Even though he had older brothers, there was never any question of broaching an inquiry of sex with them. Within his culture a child grew to maturity, at a suitable age a marriage partner was selected, they married and raised their own family. It was as simple as that! The system may be described as tough, but it was one that had been in practice for centuries.
When Harish first came upon Brad and the underclassman in the closet, it was the first time that he had been confronted with the idea or fact of same sex contact. He simply had never considered it, never knew of it's existence. And, since it was outside the rubrics of family life, it must be, therefore, innately and culturally wrong! The experiences that he had had with Bob Lindsey and later with Tom Anderson he considered to be aberrations! At least that is what he told himself at the time. The fact that he had experienced incredible sensations with Tom was no less troubling. Yet, his association with Rebecca erased all that in his conscious mind.
When he met Brad, now these months ago, there was no inkling of what was to come. Certainly, he did not possess an iota of desire or even interest in Brad. His earlier association tended to put a pall over his initial contact. However, their association soon grew into a deep friendship, not unlike his friendship with Dick. And, when the tentative, preliminary love making at Port Dickson occurred Harish was not prepared for his reaction or his active participation. He later came to recognize it for what it was. He was strongly attracted to Brad! During their first contacts, their early love sessions, he was somewhat detached. Oh, he physically reacted and participated, but mentally he was turned off. It was a month or more before he consciously realized that he yearned for Brad's touch and his company. They had talked about this. Brad had been understanding.
Of late, he knew that his feeling for Brad was good, was natural and was exclusive. It wasn't that Harish did not find some men attractive, or women, for that matter, but there was not question in his mind of 'experimenting.' The thought of it was somewhat repugnant. Once, while at The Pub, a handsome guy came up to Harish and made an obvious play for him. Harish was polite,. However, his reply and attitude was such as to cool the ardor of his would be admirer. Harish was somewhat disturbed at being cruised. Brad just laughed. His love for Brad, Harish accepted now as perfectly natural, for any other man it would have been unnatural!