Story contains: mm, ws, sm, asian/white Written by: smtaipei@hotmail.com
On the First Night in August ============================
On the first night in August, the White Party was on. As every Wednesday for the last six months, I prepared to show myself.
Not that my body is particularly impressive or my face a model's emblem of attraction, but I used to weigh over 250 pounds and had, with zeal and patience, spent the last 3 years molding the type of physique that rules the gay world.
I am Caucasian, in my late twenties and live in Taiwan. Any attractive white male who has ever been to Asia knows what that means. I've been living here for quite some time, and the more handsome by body becomes, the more I enjoy the effect it has on the locals. There aren't that many tall white hunks around. Which suits me. For whites are not my kind of bag. I love... Well. I'm sure you know.
On that particular Wednesday in August, lightning struck. Somewhere after the drag & dance show at @live, a huge disco on the corner of Roosevelt and Hoping Road featuring gay nights, he appeared.
I was standing right at the edge of the 4 feet high ramp, with Dolan, a straight Irish friend whose Italian girlfriend used to work for my company, and some other friends and acquaintances casually distributed in my vicinity. Dolan freaked out to the sounds of "Crazy", one of these high-energy songs that make you shake and shag more than your flesh and bones can bear. We laughed and had fun, beer and a few cigarettes.
Julian noticed him first. He was standing about 5 feet in front of me with his back turned towards me. His well-defined arms and shoulders mesmerized me, the attractive view of this back, the dark tan. Muscular Asian bodies are sculptured like no others. Their muscles hardly ever look bulgy and fleshly, but gentle, soft, simply breathtaking. This is the breed of men I have fallen for.
I reached forward and tapped the guy's shoulder. He reacted, turning around. With a gesture of my left hand and a winning smile, I invited him to step up to the platform and dance with me here. He smiled the smile of angels, shook his head, and turned around.
He was dancing with a seldom grace, no professional dancer, mind you, but swaying hips I would die for. His white and blue striped muscle shirt made his tan look healthy and his skin soft. I longed for a touch, when I realized the hand.
A white, hairy hand reached behind the boy's back, pressing him towards the body in front. Lovers. Although I enjoy the look of embracing males, I saw my chances dwindling as the Asian hunk's enthralling body pressed itself to the fat and hairy back of an elderly white man, who, at that moment, turned around.
The boy had whispered something into the white man's ear, probably telling him that I had tried to pick him up. The white man now looked at me with Medusa's killing look then gently kissed his lover's ear. "He's mine", said the gesture, and a desperation and sadness overcame me.
We continued dancing and Dolan made jokes about my failed attempt to get the hunk. "Voulez-vous" came on, followed by "Stay" and "Uh-la-la", and I almost forgot about my failure - although my eyes kept wandering back to the vision of my desire still dancing with his grossly overweight white boyfriend, smiling at each other with a smile not of long-term relationship, but of recent encounter, of young, unspoiled love. And maybe a chance...
Again, it was Julian who first noticed that the white man was handing money to the Chinese hunk and talking into his ear. Then, hunk putting the bills in his pocket, made a slow move away from the dancefloor and away from me and my friends. Julian said "Follow him", but I didn't dare, not without hunk turning around and inviting me. Which I was sure he would not do. Then, almost 20 feet away, in safe distances from his lover and almost at the bar, the sailor slowly turned around, look me straight in the eye, and smiled.
Not really a smile though. The type of look, rather, that guys through at each other in leather bars when a master has found his slave. I was stupified. Could it be.
I left my dancing spot and felt my cock get hard. I was wearing a too-small sleeveless T-shirt and plastic pants. At that moment, I wish I would have worn something more normal, like a plaid shirt. Something less gay.
The hunk walked up the stairs to and into the toilets, and I followed him. There were about 10 guys in line waiting for the urinals, but one of the stall doors in the back was open. The hunk walked right towards it, aware of the hungry looks of some of the guys in the queue. Sex in public places in not too common in Taiwan, and some of the men stared unbelievingly when the hunk grabbed my arm and pulled me into the cubicle.
Straddling the toilet seat, he pulled my head towards him and kissed my lips. Then, with a smile and a firm grasp on my shoulder he pushed me down on my knees while opening his fly. Out popped a long and slender cock, not too thick, but long and elegant, with subtle veins running down the sides. I was about to engulf his tool with my mouth, when he shook his head and pulled away his cock. He pushed my head back, as if he wanted me to watch only. A few strokes with his right hand, then he stopped. His cock became flaccid again, then moved upwards pushed by the movements of his hips.
All of a sudden, a stream of piss hit me right in the face. I couldn't believe what was happening and eagerly opened my mouth, swallowing the light-flavored piss. My cock got rock hard in my pants and almost exploded. How could he know? What gave me away? These thoughts rushed through my mind as I continued to drink the Asian sailor's piss, the warm stream flowing down my throat. I had trouble keeping up, I wanted to pull his cock out and direct the stream of piss over my shirt, but I didn't dare to. With no clothes to change, it would have meant walking out with a piss-drenched shirt. That's maybe OK if you live in New York, but not in China.
The flow of piss stopped, and the hunk smiled. Slowly he pulled off his shirt, folded it, and put it down in a corner. I was still kneeling on the floor with the taste of piss in my mouth. He stripped off his jeans, then his underwear, and finally stood in front of me completely naked. What a man! What a body! Flat belly with well-defined abs, strong chest and legs, hair down from the belly button to his cock. A firm ass, a winning and friendly smile on his handsome Asian face, and the hard prick I lusted for. He allowed me to suck his cock, while pressing my nipples hard, turning and squeezing them. He slapped my face and pushed his cock further down my throat. Suddenly he stopped, kneeled down in front of me, and bent his body back. With his left hand, he started stroking his fuckpole, slowly, then looked me in the eyes, hungrily, slightly nodding.
I stood up and pulled down my pants. My hard cock popped out, and he stared astonished at the size of it. I had to concentrate for a while and thought I would never be able to piss with a hard-on. I also couldn't get rid of my hard on with this view of a hunk on the floor beside me. Then I felt the piss pushing it's way up my tool. He smiled, opening his mouth wide. Light-yellow piss gushed out of my prick on onto the Chinese hunk's torso. I pissed on his tits, his belly, I pissed on his cock, then back up to his neck, face, all over his hair and finally let him drink the rest of it. Mouthful after mouthful went down the thirsty hunk's throat. He had stopped stroking his cock for a while. Nevertheless, just when my stream of piss started to subside, he came fervently, shooting his cum all over his abs, then rubbing it in with the palm of his hand. I started jerking off with the piss still flowing, and it wasn't long before I too shot wads of cum over the hunks chest. He smiled, reached for the toilet paper, and together we cleaned up this chest. We dressed, then embraced and kissed for what seemed eternity, and just as I felt his cock get hard again in his pants, he pulled away and left the stall.
A short stop at the mirror to wash our faces and check the hair, then we walked off in different directions. A while later, I was back on my spot, handing Dolan the beer I had bought, dancing away to the sounds of Gala's "Come, come, come into my life". Then the hunk returned with drinks and gave one to his lover together with the change. They embraced, and the white man looked back to me again. A broad and vicious smile came over my face.
=END=
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