Andy, the Amerasian Refugee

Andy, the Amerasian Refugee (From the series, "First Encounters of a Close Kind") by Bill Fore (b4@earthlink.net)

Most of what happened in my first seventeen years was indescribable, so I won't try... except: I'm what's called an "Amerasian." My mother was a desperate and lonely young sixteen year old Vietnamese girl who met and fell in love with a big black American soldier while living in a little refugee encampment on the outskirts of Saigon. She told me that she had fallen in love with a young G.I. medic named Cliff Johnson over the course of two months while the war was raging only a few miles from them.

My mother's entire family had been killed in the Northern provinces. Mother had only been wounded. She often showed me the shrapnel scars on her shoulder. She had run and walked many miles with the other refugees and had come to live in the crowded, squalid refugee encampment where I was born. Like all good young Vietnamese girls, she had carefully avoided contact with American's, but somehow Cliff had come into her life while she was getting medical attention and was very vulnerable. He was very handsome and very caring, she said, and had treated her wounds, comforted her while she grieved over her family and given her many little presents. He had also planted his seed along the way in what must have been a very weak moment in her life. My devastated mother was still only sixteen when I was born.

Except for a slight oriental look to my eyes and cheekbones, nothing about me looked Vietnamese. My skin was very many shades darker than the light cream-white oriental skin tone... kind of a dark, golden bronze. Also, I was taller and far more muscular... surprisingly muscular for a person raised on an oriental rice diet. Because of constant hard work in the rice paddies and having the right genetics, I was very brawny, broad shouldered and narrow wasted. There wasn't an ounce of fat on my body anywhere. As a teenager I'd grown to five-foot-ten, much taller than a Vietnamese teenager.

Vietnamese are far more open with each other than Americans. Nudity was a common part of my everyday life as I grew up. That's how I knew I was some kind of monster. Asian males usually have cocks in the four to six inch range when hard. Mine was at least a thicker-than-average eight and a half... almost twice the normal Asian size. Mother explained that my father was very big, too. The only difference, she said, was that he did not have a foreskin and I did.

Vietnamese hated Amerasians.

My memories of growing up are filled with terror, hatred, harassment, abuse of every conceivable kind, and unbelievable struggle. Girls would often look at me as if I was attractive, but they never dared show it. The same thing with Vietnamese men. I was often stared at as if being admired but outwardly I was treated with clear hatred.

Because of the hard life we lived I had very little sexual feelings or desires. I remember masturbating less than a dozen times in my teenage years and hardly had any sexual fantasies. I had a lot of fantasies about being hugged and loved, but that never happened with anyone except for my mother.

I was a virgin with girls. However, I was raped by a middle-aged male Vietnamese farm overseer near the rice paddies one night when I was thirteen. It was a bit painful, but there were some positive aspects of the experience in my terror-filled life. Being touched by another naked body, and even being kissed in the heat of passion was new and, in some ways, very wonderful. The man's penis was Asian medium (small), so the pain was minimal. When you live like my mother and I did, you try to find something good in every situation.

I think it would have been better if my father had been white, but being a half black - half Vietnamese child seemed to elicit the worst hatred of all. Mother said I was beautiful and that it was jealousy.

The U.S. had a program for bringing Amerasian children of G.I.'s to America as citizens. My mother knew I could never have any kind of a life in Vietnam so she saved money for almost five years, did everything to help me to learn as much English as possible, got me to read books about America, and then tearfully gave me up to a migrating Vietnamese family so that I could come to "the States" and possibly find and live with my father. We never knew how far that dream was from reality.

Parting with mother was a terrible sorrow. After all, she was the only person in the world that had ever loved me and given me any tenderness. My "adopting family" didn't care for me at all. I was just a part of their ruse to get to America... their ticket out of Vietnam.

The almost three week crossing of the Pacific in the old merchant ship was absolute hell. There was little food and only a small mat to sleep on. Sometimes the heat and humidity was almost too much to bear.

Leaving Vietnam didn't stop the terror in my life, either. By the time the merchant ship arrived in Los Angeles harbor the father of the migrating family had forced me at knife point to suck him off. If that wasn't enough humiliation, I was then fucked by him behind a hidden barricade under a stairwell on the ship's deck three different times. I didn't dare yell for help for fear that the ship's crew would want to participate. When it was over I didn't retaliate because I didn't want to screw up my new life. I parted from my newly adopted family without a word just after clearing customs.

I'll never forget my first days in America. We docked early one summer morning two days before my eighteenth birthday. The first few Vietnamese people I met in the port area were not very friendly, either... so I decided not to go to the place I'd heard about in Southern California known as "little Saigon" where many of them lived. I felt truly alone in what was to me a very strange, huge and intimidating country.

I had brought very little clothing and I quickly realized that it was all the wrong kind. Luckily, it was summer and warm so I bought a pair of Levi 501's, a T-shirt, a light, cheap jacket, some tennis shoes and some white sox at a discount store in Long Beach near the port.

The guy who owned the store hovered over me as I changed and complimented me on having a "wonderful body." He had me try on the Levi's in a smaller size so that I would look more "sexy." I thought he was going to try something more with me. It was clear he wanted to, but he had to keep the store open.

I carried my Vietnamese clothes in a bag for a few blocks but then put them in a trash can. Everything else I owned in the whole world fit in a small overnight bag.

One thing I noticed that first morning in America after getting out of customs was that a lot of people seemed to look at me. Anyone who was not Vietnamese acted very friendly. That boosted my spirits a bit. I found a small open front hamburger stand and the woman at the counter again said that I was very handsome. When I told her I'd just come from Vietnam she said I should be careful because many people around that area were gay. They would think I was selling my body by how I looked and dressed and would want to take advantage of me.

We exchanged names. "Shelly," she said. I told her I was "Deng" in Vietnamese, but my American nickname had always been "Andy." My passport said my official name was "Andrew Deng Johnson." Shelly complimented me on how I spoke English. No, she had no idea about how to get in touch with a soldier named "Cliff Johnson." "It's a big country, Andy. He could be two thousand miles from here... maybe married with lots of kids. Maybe his wife doesn't know he had a child in 'Nam, you know. Might be bad for both of you if you did find him." I'd never thought of that. That dashed my hopes of having a loving father to know. My big dream was that I'd find him, then he'd send for my mother and we would be a happy American family.

Shelly patted my shoulder when I left. I stopped and smiled. She gave me a little hug and said, "Good luck, Andy. Be careful." When I took the change I counted all my money. Thirty- seven dollars and twenty-five cents. That's what I had to my name!

I walked and walked, looking at the sights and the people. I couldn't believe there were so many beautiful cars on the very wide streets. Also, from where I was I could see lots of beautiful, tall buildings on the skyline.

I tried to figure out what I should do. People seemed very nice. Many smiled. At least I was experiencing no hatred. I was still hungry so I bought a big bowl of rice and some tea in a small Chinese restaurant. They were even nice to me. It was the best rice I'd ever tasted.

That afternoon I walked to the big Queen Mary ship parked in the harbor. I just walked around outside and admired the huge old vessel because there was a charge for going in.

After walking for hours I sat on a bench to rest. A well dressed business man soon sat on the bench, too. "It's hot today," he said, wiping perspiration from his brow. I agreed. We slowly began to talk. I finally told him I'd just that morning arrived in America. He told me he was from Chicago and that he had just finished a business conference at a big hotel nearby.

He said he was thirsty. He asked if I'd join him so we walked to a fast food place and he bought me a hamburger and we both had a coke. I tried to pay for my food but he wouldn't let me. He took off his suit jacket and loosened his tie. I thought he seemed like a very nice, kind faced man. He was light skinned with thinning blond hair. I was probably an inch taller than him. I guessed he was in his mid-forties. We exchanged names... "Carl," "Andy."

Carl asked me a lot of questions about Vietnam and where I'd learned to speak English so well. I asked him if he knew a black man named Cliff Johnson. He, too, said it would be very hard to find anyone, especially without a military serial number. Customs had provided a number when I received my American passport, but they also said they couldn't trace it.

Carl and I must have talked for two hours more, walking sometimes, sitting on benches sometimes. Carl asked where I was staying. I said I didn't know. He was quiet for a few minutes. Then he stood up, smiled at me and motioned for me to follow him. We walked about a mile toward the city to a small, clean street-side motel.

He got out his credit card and rented a room for five days. I was expecting that he would stay there, too, but when we got into the room he said he was staying with his wife in a high rise hotel a few blocks away and would be flying back to Chicago late the next day. He patted my shoulder and said he wanted to get the room for me to help me get started in America. I thanked him a lot, shook his hand, and then we tentatively embraced for a moment. I got a little emotional. It was wonderful to be cared for and hugged.

He laughed at me because I thought the little motel room was beautiful. He showed me how to get the air conditioner turned on. I discovered the bathroom and shower and mentioned that I felt really dirty and needed to get cleaned up. He took the room key, told me to shower while he got some things, patted my shoulder, and left. It was the most wonderful shower I ever took in my life. In the preceding three weeks I'd only had what my mother called "a bucket bath."

I may have enjoyed the shower too much because Carl was back before I turned the water off. He came to the open bathroom door and watched while I dried myself. For the third time that day someone told me I was beautiful.

Carl had gotten a toothbrush and some toothpaste, along with some lotion and baby oil. "When you get dry lay down on the bed on your stomach and I'll put some lotion on you," Carl said. I brushed my teeth while he took a towel to lay over the bed. When I went in to the room he was taking off his tie. "Lay on your stomach, Andy, and I'll make you feel good." The first thing I thought of was my naked asshole sticking up for him to use in payment for the room. It didn't happen!

Carl took off his shirt, sat beside me and put another towel over his lap. Slowly and tenderly he rubbed the soothing lotion all over the backside of my body. His touch was very soft. Sometimes he'd knead my muscles firmly, but then his touch would become delicate... over my back, my sides, my feet, calves, thighs, and finally over my asscheeks. It was, by far, some of the best touching I'd ever felt in my life and it awakened some sensual feelings I'd never experienced before. My penis was poking the sheets under me, hard and throbbing.

There was no attempt to enter my asshole. Only one time did a finger slip ever so slightly into my asscrack. As he massaged my back I'd hear his voice, very low. He kept repeating things to himself like, "such beautiful silky skin... perfect body... not a mark anywhere... splendid muscles... magnificent... magnificent." I didn't know what "magnificent" meant until some days later.

When it was time for me to roll over Carl sucked in his breath. My penis was so hard it held itself up off my belly. Our eyes met, and then his drifted down. He just looked at my body and kept repeating, "magnificent... magnificent" under his breath. I looked at him more closely. Warm blue eyes, a somewhat muscular chest with fine blond hairs covering most of it, and some muscles on his arms. He still wore his suit pants. For an American businessman, Carl seemed to be in okay shape.

He began massaging the oils into my chest... then my arms. Everything was happening in slow motion and it felt very, very wonderful and strangely erotic. For the next thirty minutes he massaged the front and sides of my body without touching my hard penis and balls. He continued to make comments, and I felt as if I was being worshipped.

My eyes were closed when I first felt the tentative contact with lotion covered fingers and testicles. My body naturally raised from the bed for a moment. The hands drifted away and then returned. It must have taken fifteen more minutes before Carl was freely (and very lightly) massaging oil into my balls, my rock hard lower stomach and the stem of my throbbing organ. I'd spread my legs a bit and his touch included a bit of the wonderfully sensitive area under my dangling balls. When I did open my eyes I noticed that Carl was almost in a trance, his eyes locked on my midsection and the areas he was touching.

Slowly he pulled the foreskin back to fully reveal my tender cockhead... and very slowly, as the other hand moved over the other sensitive areas of my body, his right hand began to slide the skin back and forth. Sometimes his fingers would lightly trace the veins on my cock, and sometimes he would grip the organ more firmly. His other hand slipped through my sparse pubic hair, lightly touching the veins on my lower belly that ran directly to my cock.

The sensations were too great and I had not delivered a load in so long, I quickly and violently came... almost without warning. The powerful squirts splashed everywhere as my body thrashed in the ecstasy of my first orgasm delivered by the hands of another person. Carl's hand continued to slowly pump my cock. His body seemed to be spasming also, but I didn't open my eyes to see what was happening.

After a few moments he began to use the extra towel to wipe the cum from where it had landed. I opened my eyes, his met mine, and he smiled very warmly. "You're magnificent, Andy," he said. When he got up from the side of the bed he held the towel in front of him. "Don't move, Andy. Relax. I'll come back and wash you off better."

Carl took so long in the bathroom that I fell asleep on the wonderfully soft bed in, what was to me, a beautiful room. I had never before experienced the wonderful state of euphoria I was then in. When he came back he again sat beside my naked body. I awoke. He'd removed his suit pants and was wrapped in a towel. He had a warm wash cloth in his hands. He wiped off the dried cum from my body like I was a Ming vase... very carefully and tenderly. Our eyes met and he smiled deeply. "You hungry?" I hadn't even thought about food, even though I'd been hungry for weeks. I nodded.

He finished carefully wiping off the areas I had splattered, set the washcloth down on the floor, and then leaned over me and gave me a another tentative embrace. I put my arms around his naked shoulders to return the hug and we clung to each other for many minutes... naked chest to naked chest, cheek to cheek.

I had to take a leak. In the bathroom I noticed that Carl had washed his underwear and they were hanging from the shower curtain rod to dry. Also, his dress pants had a big wet spot on the front and were drying also. I knew he'd also blown a load. I heard Carl making a phone call. "Hi, honey." There was a pause. "Yeah, I'm sorry... this is the first chance I've had to call." Another pause. "There's no way I can get out of this stupid meeting, honey. Too much at stake. They're starting to drink... might take 'til midnight or later."

I spoke English adequately, but I understood it better. I knew he was setting himself up to spend more time with me. I was happy. I was feeling wonderful and strangely sexy, and I liked Carl a lot. It was wonderful to know that you really turned someone on. He wasn't trying to make me do anything I didn't want to do. In fact, he'd asked nothing for himself, which was strange for me. It was clear he not only was physically attracted to me... he really liked me, too.

Carl dried the spot on his pants with the motel hair dryer.

We ate in a nice little Thai restaurant. We had a corner booth, and the service was wonderful. He ordered. I loved everything. It was different than any Vietnamese food I'd ever had, and again the rice was fantastic. I know you might think that rice is rice, but to me there was a lot of difference in the taste sometimes.

We talked a lot. I told him the massage was fabulous. He actually asked me if I didn't mind that he'd touched my "beautiful member." I didn't understand, so he explained he'd meant cock. I laughed in surprise. I then told him the only sex I'd experienced had been when I'd been raped or been forced to suck someone. I told him that nobody had ever before just tried to make me feel good without anything in return. I thanked him.

He seemed shocked. "You've never experienced receiving oral sex? Ah... I mean, you've never been sucked?" I shook my head. It was quiet for a while before he asked to hear details of the forced sex I'd experienced. I gave him every detail he asked for. I even actually told him that parts of what had happened had been pleasant.

We talked about size. Mostly cock size. I said I'd felt like a freak because all the other Asians were much smaller than me. He said I had the most beautiful "member" he'd ever seen. He said he loved my foreskin because he'd never had a chance to touch one before. After a pause he said he hadn't seen many erected "member's" in his life because he'd been married for twenty years. He said he'd always been curious about other males. Later I learned that he had a sixteen year old daughter and a fourteen year old son.

We walked back to the motel room. It was just about sundown... a warm summer night about eight o'clock. Back home I'd still be working in the rice paddies with mother. Carl seemed hesitant about coming in. Because I'd heard his phone call I was expecting him to stay awhile. In fact, I was looking forward to it for some reason.

"You left your underwear in the bathroom, Carl." He grinned, embarrassed. The motel room was warm. Out of habit I kicked off my shoes and sox at the door. Carl said the weather forecast for the next day was for very warm. As he moved to the bathroom to get his underwear I walked with him. It was still damp. "While they dry I can put the oil on you, Carl," I said. He seemed a bit shocked and acted embarrassed again. He patted my shoulder. "No... that's okay." Our eyes met. "Andy, my body is not beautiful like yours."

I initiated an embrace. It got sensual. We held each other for a long time... hands slipping up and down backs over shirts, shoulders, and finally over pants covered buns. Carl was getting steamed up again. I was feeling very horny.

I pulled off my t-shirt. Carl looked at me. I said, "It's warm in here Carl... take off your shirt." I helped him, and then we moved back to the bed. We still had our pants on. I laid back and he sat beside me, idly running his hand over my chest. His touch felt wonderful. My cock began to get hard, making a big lump in my pants he could easily see. Carl touched my nipples lightly and they began to harden, too. My mother had often touched my nipples. They were very sensitive.

He smiled. "Like that?" I grinning and nodded. I began to touch the light soft fur on his chest. It was quiet for a few moments as we touched each other. When Carl finally spoke he sounded hoarse. "Ah, Dolly... my wife... she, ah... she used to like getting licked. You know, ah... breasts, legs... ah, in between... you know." It was getting darker in the room. I could barely see Carl's eyes. I turned on the bedside lamp. I asked, "Did you like it... doing it, I mean?" Carl nodded. "It's been a lot of years."

In Vietnam one phrase we'd learned from the G.I.'s was, "Gotta take a leak!" I said it and got up to drain my big straining snake. When I finished I pulled down my Levi's and left them hanging in the bathroom. Carl had laid back on the bed and had his eyes closed. I unbuckled his belt before he looked up and saw I was naked. "Too warm for clothes," I said. His eyes locked on my still hard "member." I unzipped his zipper, went to his feet, took off his shoes and sox, and then started pulling off his pants at his ankles. His hard, clipped six and a half incher came into view.

Quickly Carl got up, stepped out of his pants and headed for the bathroom. At the door he turned, smiled, and held up a finger... the international "one minute" sign. I turned up the air conditioner a notch, then laid back on the bed. I heard the shower running. After a few moments I drifted off again.

Next thing I knew, Carl was laying beside me. I slipped an arm under his head and we snuggled again. Our cocks had softened, but now I felt his harden against my thigh as we cuddled. I would have kissed, but I didn't want to offend him and he didn't try to kiss me... except on the cheek during our long embrace.

After a while, as we clung to each other, he began to kiss my cheek more often, then my shoulder, and then began to move so that he could kiss my chest. When I tried to reciprocate he pushed me back. Soon he was on his knees straddling my right leg and was kissing my chest, finally finding my tender nipple. He worked over one until it was hard, then moved to the other. I looked down to see that his "member" was rock hard. (Even now, years later, that seems like a strange word for cock!)

His tongue began to work over my navel, causing his chin to brush against my straining cock. Carl seemed almost feverish. He moved his mouth down to my thighs, then rather quickly went to lick my balls, and then moved rapidly on to kiss and lick my cock stem. The sensations were awesome. My cum was boiling again.

Carl began to nibble on my foreskin, running his tongue around my super sensitized cock head under the lip of the skin. I braced my body, my ass involuntarily raising off the bed. The feelings were incredible. I began running my hands through the sparse hair on his head. I'm sure some Vietnamese words came from my mouth. My brain was far too occupied to try translations. He sensed what was coming and slipped his lips over the crown of my straining prong. I moaned loudly, my body instinctively shuddered, and I blasted volley after volley of my cum into his throat. He didn't really have me very deeply into his mouth, but it was enough so that not a drop was spilled anywhere.

As Carl sucked me dry I noticed that my right thigh was very damp. I realized that it was the second time that day he'd lost his load without even being touched.

I relaxed a bit as my body recovered from the wonderful ecstasy of orgasm, but I never lost my throbbing eight and a half inch uncut erection. Also, Carl never stopped licking and sucking... balls, inner thighs, under my balls almost to my asshole, then cock stem, foreskin, and cock head. His hands moved over my body as much as possible, touching, tantalizing, making me feel extremely passionate. All of my nerve endings quickly reawakened.

He moved to kneel between my spread legs as he continued his work. For the next twenty or so minutes I writhed in total bliss as Carl practiced his craft again on my excited lance and gonads. I could only run my hands over his head, shoulders and back. If I tried to reach for his cock he'd gently push me back.

This time I wasn't so worked up and overloaded, so the wonderful licking and sucking experience lasted much longer. I finally fed Carl another load of my jism. There was probably less quantity in this third explosion, but my body was racked with the most violent spasms I'd ever experienced.

Again, Carl sucked me dry and then I pulled him up so that we could lay side by side in a total body contact embrace. We kissed cheeks and stroked each other. My mind was still active when I noticed his hands had stopped moving over me and that he had fallen asleep. I continued stroking his back and ass for a minute or two more before I, too, drifted off.

The bedside clock said 1:14 when he woke up. He panicked, quickly kissed my cheek again, got up and dressed in the bathroom. He came back to the bed, leaned over and patted me. "Andy... I'll stop by about eleven-thirty or noon, okay. That's when my wife thinks I'm due at a meeting. I'll cancel it so we can be together again." I reached up, pulled him down and embraced him again. "Thanks, Carl." He lifted off me and looked me in the eye. "No, Andy... thank you! I'll never forget this day as long as I live."

He looked at me strangely for a moment. "You have money for breakfast?" I nodded. "I'm okay, Carl. Thank you a lot for the room." He dressed quickly, then glanced at his watch. "I hope I'm not in trouble," he said.

I followed him to the door. We kissed on the cheek again. Carl's hands slipped over my buns and brushed my erection. Our eyes met. He opened the door and slipped out. I locked it, went to the bathroom and took a leak. There were five twenty dollar bills on the edge of the wash basin.

It was one of the most wonderful, peaceful nights in all of my life.

I got up early and turned on the TV. There was an exercise show on one channel so I did what they did, working naked on the floor in front of the set. It was way too easy. I pulled on my pants and went running through the neighborhood for a few miles. I was surprised at how many other people were out running, too. It was an hour or two after sunrise and, even though I was only a few blocks from the ocean, it was already beginning to get warm. Except for runners, there were very few other people out at just after seven on a Friday morning. In Saigon, everyone is on the streets at that hour.

A couple of other surprises hit me that morning. I got some tea and two big bowls of rice at the open front Chinese fast food restaurant I'd been to the day before. Everybody... the few customers... even the Asians who worked there... all of them were very friendly. On the street I felt lots of kind eyes staring at me because I was sweaty and shirtless. If I looked at someone in the eye they usually gave me a smile.

The biggest surprise that morning came when I returned to the room a couple of hours later to find it cleaned, the bed made with fresh sheets, and all fresh towels. Nobody had ever cleaned up after me before in my whole life. It took Carl to later explain that the beautiful room came with daily maid service.

It was ten after twelve when Carl knocked on the door. He was again dressed in a full business suit and tie. I had remained naked after my shower and wrapped a towel around my middle to answer the door. When Carl got inside the door he dropped a package he was carrying on the bed and gave me a big hug, kissing me on the cheek very close to my mouth. Our hands again roamed as we pressed against each other for a long, long time. When we pulled apart I helped him take off his coat and tie.

"Look, Andy... we don't have as much time together as I'd like... I've got to leave in a few hours." We sat side by side on the bed. He pulled the package into his lap. "I got to thinking that your jeans may be a little warm." He opened the bag and started pulling something out. "You need something else to wear when you wash the Levi's, so..." He pulled some new clothes out of the bag. "I brought you these." There were two colorful form fitting tank tops... one bright yellow and one red, a pair of soft grey thin flannel athletic cut shorts with slits on the sides, and a pair of white Levi cut-off's. A pack of athletic sox and a white bikini swim suit also fell out of the bag. I had a rough time with my emotions. Only my mother had cared as much, and she never had money to buy anything.

Carl made me try everything on, one item at a time. He seemed to forget that we didn't have much time. As I modeled, he "ooh'ed" and "ah'ed" over each item, checking the fit and showing me what they looked like in front of the full-length closet mirror. I was impressed. He certainly knew my waist size was a 28. (He said he'd checked the label on my Levi's.)

We went to grab a quick lunch at a fast food place with me wearing sneakers and sox, the grey shorts and the red tank top. Carl acted very proud of me and twice pointed out that people were looking. As we were finishing our food I said something about not being able to repay him. He got very serious. "Oh, yes you can, Andy." I asked how.

He began to tell me that for twenty years he'd been wondering what it would be like to experience anal sex. He said he'd been reading stories in little books he'd buy when his family was away and had been dreaming about the experience ever since we had met.

I looked at him closely, not quite knowing what he was talking about. He leaned forward, his voice low and husky. "Andy... I don't have much time. I need to go back to your room with you and, ah... have sex. I brought some condoms and lubrication and I want you to, ah... how should I say it..." He paused, looked around to be sure he couldn't be heard, and then leaned across the table and whispered, "I want you to cum inside of me." For some reason I didn't expect it. I was very surprised and it must have shown.

He got up from the table, so I did, too. We were walking back to the motel when he next spoke. "Andy... if you don't want to, I'll understand. I would never do anything against your wishes." I felt like I couldn't express myself in English. My mind was flooded with all kinds of thoughts. Nothing I'd ever been asked to do before in my whole life depended on whether I wanted to or not. All I could say was, "I don't want to hurt you."

When we got in the room we embraced, this time more sensually than we'd ever embraced before. Carl excused himself and went to the bathroom. I heard the shower running. I took off my wonderfully sexy new red tank top and the shorts. I looked at my naked, lean, muscular bronze body in the mirror again and wondered about what was going to happen. Carl came out wrapped in a towel. He had something in a little jar and a pack of condoms in his hand. I went into the bathroom and brushed my teeth.

Carl was laying on the bed still wrapped in the towel. I joined him and we hugged again. His lips met mine for the first time. I had only very limited kissing experience, but I think I learned quickly. Our arms were wrapped around each other as passions built. Carl's towel came off and I directly touched his hard "member" for the first time. His body stiffened from my touch and he kissed harder. Our tongues began exploring each other. Lust was rapidly building in both of us.

I really wanted to put my mouth on his cock. He resisted for a few moments. Then he helped me shift to a side-by-side sixty-nine position. It was quick and wonderfully pleasant, like the first course in a banquet. I tried to do everything to him that he was doing to me, licking balls, cock stem and all around the area... and then slipping my lips down over his cock head as far as I could. His mouth was working wonders on my sensitive cock. My fluids began to surge. I had no staying power. I quickly came, and a short time later, my mouth was filled with blast after blast of Carl's hot cream. I was surprised at the experience, even though I had been forced to swallow cum before. This time it was because I wanted to, and this time it was wonderful.

We embraced again and started deep kissing, swapping cum in the process. Carl reached behind him to the bedside table. He had the little jar in his hand and unscrewed the cap. "I washed really well in the shower, Andy. Can you put some in me." I was only sure of what he meant when he moved to his back and raised his legs. He'd been so careful about displaying his body that his movements were surprising. I rubbed the very slippery stuff around his ass hole and then slipped a well-lubed finger inside. His sphincter fought me for a moment. Then he relaxed. I slipped the one finger in as deeply as I could and began so swirl it around inside his rectum.

He had been fondling my hard spear the whole time and now began to open a condom. I was kneeling beside him. I leaned back while he carefully and expertly installed it, pulling my foreskin back before rolling it over my cock head and down the stem.

Carl was all business now. He positioned me behind him and raised his legs up in the air. Some of the slippery stuff was added to the condom, and then Carl's hand positioned my throbbing cock at the entrance to his hot channel. His sphincter fought again, but Carl leaned back, grabbed my hips and pulled me fully in to him. "Ooof!" I tried to pull out because of the moan that escaped his lips. Carl held me firmly, relaxed for a moment, and then began using his hands on my hips to start a thrusting motion. There was even some beads of perspiration breaking out on his forehead.

We were soon both completely overtaken by the lust of the moment. Sometimes, while on my knees behind him, I would raise up my body and hold his legs in a wide spread "V" as I pounded my cock into his tight ass hole. Sometimes I would be on top of him so that we could deeply kiss.

His hands moved over my body, grasping my ass cheeks at one point, then running his fingers frantically over my back and thighs. I had only been thrusting into Carl for a minute when I felt his sphincter tighten and his body shake. Quickly Carl's stomach was covered with his hot cum, even though his cock was almost totally soft. His hands controlled the pace as I continued pounding my cock deep into his incredibly hot, tight channel. The sensations were by far the wildest of my young life.

I was nearing my own explosion when Carl slowed the process. For a few moments, while deeply embedded in his ass, I collapsed on his sticky body and we again deeply french kissed for a while. That's the way it went for the next twenty minutes. We would kiss and hold each other, then begin again to furiously fuck. When it appeared I was about to orgasm, we'd again stop to kiss.

Finally, I could hold out no longer. We both chorused words... mine, mostly in Vietnamese. "Oh, God... fuck me, Andy," he would whisper. Then, loudly, "Aaugh... give it to me." Luckily the loud hum of the air conditioner (I hoped) kept our noises from being heard in the outside world.

Carl's hands provided the impetus for the final thrusting as my cock filled the straining shield with my load of cum. I collapsed on top of Carl and we just laid in deep embrace for a time, both totally spent by the intensity of our love act.

Carl had me keep the cum filled condom on as we headed for the shower. We washed each other for a few minutes before he carefully slipped the sheath from my half-hard cock. "I want to keep this to remember you by, Andy," he said, as he carefully tied the condom like a balloon. We bathed each other until Carl's cock was again at full staff and ready to duel with mine. He kissed me as we were rinsing off the suds. "I'd love to stay with you forever, Andy. This had been the most exciting two days of my whole life... but I've got to go." Our embrace was filled with tears for a minute or two before we composed ourselves.

He dressed. I dressed in a towel. Carl carefully stowed the used condom inside his coat pocket. He promised to call me with a private number he was going to set up so we could keep in contact. Then, we said our tearful goodbye's.

I cried again after Carl left. Slowly I began to recover and think about the wonderful experiences we'd shared. As I laid naked on the crumpled bed I began to re-live the sensations of being sucked for the first time in my life and fucking a man's tight asshole with my big virgin cock. My hand went to my randy "member" and soon I covered myself again with another load of spunk. I was surprised at how much cum is available when needed.

That afternoon I decided to wash my Levi's, since I was now using the grey split-side shorts Carl had bought me. I found 8 fifty dollar bills stuffed into a pocket with a little slip of paper that said, "I love you, Andy. Thanks for everything." I sat on the edge of the bed and cried again... then counted my money. I had a beautiful free room (with maid service, even) for four more days and five hundred and eighteen dollars in my pocket. I'd never been so wealthy in my life.

I watched the TV for a little while. I'd seen TV before, but never with so many channels and so much to watch. I had other things on my mind and shut the TV off after about an hour. I spent almost all of my time that afternoon doing some deep thinking about the future.

You see, because of the trauma we've gone through, most of the Vietnamese people I'd grown up with rarely worried about what might happen next week. If the next few days were as well set up as mine were, I was taught to just enjoy the circumstances and worry later. However, I was young and very much alone in a new and very strange country.

My dreams about finding my father had clearly been stupid, and now I needed another plan. The best thing I had going for me was that everyone was very friendly and seemed to like or openly admire me very much. I decided I'd better not just stay inside the room. I thought it would be wise to get out and meet as many people as possible and see what happened.

I was a little shocked that Carl had given me so much money. Even though I didn't consider that what we had done together in bed was bad, I also knew that being paid for it made me a bit like one of the prostitutes back home. I didn't want to do that any more.

The other thing I kept mulling over in my mind was how terrific my sexual feelings had been. Like I said, before leaving Vietnam, I'm sure I had not even masturbated more than two dozen times in my entire life. And now... I had cum over a half dozen times in just two days. Except for being used for forced sex, I was a complete virgin and had been without many sexual desires. The experiences with Carl had changed all of that in less than twenty- four hours.

I never heard from Carl again.

BOOK TWO

Late that afternoon I put on the white bikini swim suit Carl had bought for me, checked myself in the mirror, and adjusted my crotch for best effect. The little suit highlighted my bronze body in a wonderful way. I went to swim in the large motel pool. There were quite a few people by the pool, which surprised me. The motel had been almost empty, but now... on Friday evening... it seemed like it was full. I found out later that during the hot summer people take the weekend off and come to the beach to stay cooler.

I kept getting lots of friendly looks and "hello's." I fully enjoyed the attention. Certainly, some part of my sexuality had quickly awakened.

One man who looked to me to be in his late twenties swam up close to me in the pool a few times. Later we started a conversation. "You must work out a lot," he said. I didn't know exactly what "work out" meant, so he quickly learned that I'd just arrived in America. He was very cordial. I thought he was also very handsome. His skin was light, but fine dark hair lightly covered his body. He also had a closely trimmed dark beard and the very dark hair on his head was a little longer than normal. He was in good shape and about two inches taller than me.

He said people called him "Gene" but that his real name was "Gino." I liked the name Gino, for some reason. We talked, then swam, then laid on the deck on our towels and talked some more. He said he worked as a computer programmer in a city about twenty miles North. I also learned that he'd just gotten a divorce. We exchanged motel room numbers.

I got some take-home Chinese food, ate it while naked in my room and watched a lot of TV that night. I also masturbated again, with some vague thoughts of this handsome new friend Gino drifting through my brain.

Early on Saturday morning I went out exploring and noticed again that a lot of people were running through the streets. I'd seen organized runs on TV, but this was just people out getting exercise. I went back to my room, changed to just shorts, sox and sneakers and ran with them. I must have run ten miles down the beach before turning around to run back.

I was very tired and sweaty so I decided to take a swim. Only a few people were at the pool. I wasn't in the pool more than five minutes before Gino also arrived. We again swam and talked. He had on a smaller swim suit than what he'd worn the day before and looked very nice. He asked where I had run. When I told him, he said he would have run with me if I'd wanted, but probably not quite that far.

Gino asked how much of Southern California I had seen. I told him I'd been in the motel since the day I arrived. He offered to show me around in his car. We went to our rooms, changed (the white Levi cut-off's and the yellow tank top), and then I went to his room. He was also in shorts and a tank top and I thought he looked very handsome and sensual. It was becoming obvious that Gino was constantly looking me over and I liked it.

His car was beautiful... a brand new sports car called a Firebird. It was also wonderfully air conditioned. We drove down the coast and talked for about a half hour. America seemed to be very big and beautiful... amazing highways, beautiful cars everywhere, big buildings. I thought that everyone must be rich!

He asked if I'd eaten. He hadn't either, so we stopped for lunch. Gino seemed very intrigued by me and my life. He asked lots of questions as we ate. We talked about his divorce. He said he'd been married four years, but that she'd found another guy. He said that their sex life had been the pits. I told him I thought she'd lost a very handsome husband. He looked a little embarrassed. Then he smiled at me. I'd put money in my sock back at the motel so I insisted I pay for the meal.

We drove South along the coast all the way to San Diego. Gino was very friendly and we had a wonderful time. At one point he touched my knee. "Do you shave your body?" "No... no hair to shave. I don't even shave my face." He glanced at me as he drove. Our eyes met. "You don't have any body hair?" I laughed and raised an arm. "Some here, some down there," I said, pointing to my armpit and my crotch. He told me that he'd been a swimmer in high school and had shaved his whole body many times.

I told him I thought the fine hairs all over his body were beautiful. "My wife started getting me to shave a bit. Ah, you know... around my cock and balls. I still do that once a week, even though we've split up. I have a friend... he's a very famous model... he has to shave's some of his body hair twice a week when he's doing nudes. He's dark skinned... very middle-Eastern looking. They say he looks sexy." He glanced at me again. "Lot's of guys shave their bodies. Anyway, I don't think my ex liked body hair. She'd probably go for you, Andy."

I asked about his middle-Eastern friend. "Actually, he's got both India and Iranian blood. You may meet him. Manoud's his name. We call him Manny. He's coming here tomorrow on his way back from a photo shoot in Catalina. I'm staying here so I can meet him and drive him back home."

It was almost sundown when we got back home. I asked Gino if he liked Thai food. He nodded. I took him to the restaurant Carl had taken me to and we sat in the same back corner booth. Gino asked me how I'd found the restaurant and knew what to order. I told him about the businessman that had taken me there on my first night in the states. Gino got curious so I told him a lot about Carl.

"Did he want to have sex with you?", Gino asked. I told him that Carl had given me a massage. Gino grinned. "Really? I've got a license. I do massages on the side for extra money." I was surprised. He tried to explain. "Ah, man... massages are my favorite thing in the whole world. My wife and I traded massages every night during the first year of our marriage. Then I got so interested I went to a night school." I said I liked them, too. The food came and that interrupted the conversation.

After dinner we went swimming again. Gino and I were getting more and more friendly, and now as we dove and swam together we'd often innocently touch. We laughed, chased each other, wrestled a bit under water, and finally got each other winded.

My legs hurt a bit from all the running I'd done that morning. I told Gino I was tired. He looked at me with a gleam in his eye and said, "Oh, poor baby!" He dove after me again and, after play-fighting him off for a minute, we ended up in a short clinch. Gino was breathing hard, too.

We went to my room to dry off because that was the closest one to the pool. I pulled off my wet suit and ran the towel over my body, watching Gino's reaction in the bathroom mirror. I wrapped myself in a towel and told him to do the same. As he was drying he saw the baby oil and lotion on the sink while he let me see glimpses of his body. He picked up the lotion bottle and looked at me. "I don't have my table with me, but I'll massage your tired old body on the bed if you want, Andy."

I laid naked on my stomach while Gino knelt beside me on the bed. His touch was firmer and much more sure than Carl's had been. It was very wonderful as he painstakingly worked the backside of my lean, muscled brown body over from my neck to my toes.

I'd never felt the touch of a real masseur before. It was clear... Gino was definitely a pro! Of course, my cock was hard from almost the first minute of his touch, and that's the way it was when I finally was asked to roll over. I knew the Gino was interested in seeing my totally naked body on both sides, so I didn't try to cover anything up.

Gino's towel had fallen on the floor and he had an erection, too... about seven inches of veined hardness. His balls dangled low as he knelt in front of me. It appeared that he also had a good sized foreskin. He now moved around the bed as he worked on me, kneeling above my head, cradling it in his hands and working over my forehead, scalp and neck muscles.

As he moved his hands expertly over my chest and down my stomach, he stretched out above me and I looked up to see his broad, soft fur covered chest inches from my face. I couldn't resist. I put my hands up to touch the soft hairs on his chest for a minute, and then ran my fingers up on his back. As Gino continued running his oiled fingers over my abs and down my sides to my hips, I began to lightly run my hands over his back, too.

The massage never was finished. When Gino finally began touching my spear, my fingers irresistibly found his. His body moved down so that he was kneeling at my shoulders. His lips touched my cockhead. I looked up to gaze at his mighty sword and dangling balls just above my forehead. I felt extremely lustful. I could hardly wait for what I knew was inevitable.

I began touching Gino's low hanging balls. His hands were working over my cockstem to pull my foreskin back while his tongue flicked over my delicate cockhead. I pulled his body down closer. His balls lay on my forehead, while his cockhead was poised just above my lips. My eyes devoured the close up view I had of Gino's ravishing, beautifully veined saber. My tongue reached out.

In moments, Gino and I were in what I now know is called a 69 session. It became a very vigorous experience. There was nothing subdued about Gino. We rolled and thrashed together on that bed, until we ran out of maneuvering room and slipped to the floor. Sometimes I was under Gino. Sometimes we were side by side, and sometimes I was above him. We licked and sucked each other in every way we knew how.

Rather than the innocent newcomer to both America and consensual male-to-male sex, I became the instigator of new experiences. My hormones were raging with newly awakened desire. I held Gino's cock at the base in one hand so that my mouth and tongue could continue to stimulate his enlarged cockhead. The fingers of my other hand began to move around his twitching asshole. As his body tensed in anticipation, I pressed a digit inside. Moments later, Gino did the same to me.

His body began to buck. I alternately licked his cockhead and sucked him into my mouth as far as it could go. My finger explored him deeply. I was so intent on providing Gino pleasure that I was unaware of the intensity of my own sensations. He shuddered violently, as if having a frenzied seizure. Then, as his cock palpitated, shot after shot of his hot sperm flooded the back of my mouth. The quantity was so great I gagged for a second.

After Gino had been fully drained and licked dry, he moved so that he could concentrate on finishing his work between my legs. He reached for a pillow from the bed and propped it under my ass as I laid on my back on the carpet. He pulled his finger from my asshole and began using his hands to work over every erotic zone on my body as his mouth continued the assault on my sensitive cock. Carl had created amazing feelings, but Gino was an absolute expert!

I exploded! He knelt between my legs and sucked up every drop of my love offerings. It took many minutes before he'd finally finished cleaning me up. My ass was still propped on the pillow when Gino crawled up to lay lightly on top of me.

There was no hesitation now. This wasn't like some break- in experience with Carl. Gino was clearly experienced and I couldn't be coy. Our lips locked. We kissed... deeply, tongues exploring tongues, lips, mouths, faces, cheeks, eyes, ears. Soon we were rolling on the carpet, wildly humping in total abandon again as our rigid cock dueled together.

I wanted to experience Gino inside of me. He held back. "No, Andy. You do it to me," he whispered. We continued kissing as our bodies writhed together.

Two very loud rings. A short pause. Two more very loud rings! I was startled. It took a moment to realize it was the phone. I disentangled myself from Gino and answered. A young voice was asking a question in a foreign language. Finally I understood, "Mama?" I said no in Vietnamese and English. The phone clicked off.

The mood was broken. We realized it was dark outside. We showered together, and in the process climbed all over each other, humping, stroking, licking and sucking. Gino exploded all over me, and moments later I reciprocated. Even cleaning each other up afterwards was exciting.

At dinner Gino told me he was what his friends called a "bottom." He loved to be fucked. That opened up some questions. Gino said there was a whole community of gay and bisexual men who kind of divided themselves up by their different desires. I blurted that I thought I liked everything. He laughed. "You don't know what everything is, Andy... yet."

He told me that after his divorce he'd decided he was gay and that the model guy named Manny was his roommate and lover. I asked more questions. Gino explained that some gay people were exclusive and, "like married," while other's loved each other but also "played around." "I'm too new at this, Andy, so I'm still experimenting."

Gino asked me if I was gay. I shrugged. "I don't know. I never had sex in Vietnam, other than when somebody forced me. I've never even fooled around with a woman. I loved what Carl and I did yesterday, and tonight with you was wonderful." Gino said a lot of foreigners think everyone is just sexual... not straight, no gay. He said that's what Manny thought.

Manny arrived from his photo shoot on Catalina that next day. He was very handsome, very middle-Eastern, very friendly, and very hairless, just like Gino had said. Even though my motel room bill was paid for the next two days, that afternoon I check out with Gino and Manny and drove with them to their home.

Years have passed and we're still together. I've been going to night school to perfect my use of written and spoken English and also to take a typing and computer class. For a while I worked as a house cleaner, then became a waiter, and now I work with Gino in a computer company he started. Manny still models, and sometimes I do a "gig" with him.

Life? Wonderful! Sex? Wow! (Don't ask for details!)

-0-

Hope you liked this little story. Look under "Bill Fore" in the Nifty list of "Prolific Authors" (in "Miscellaneous") for more of my little epics. Thanks for all your wonderful comments. (Hell, folks, it's only oozing, dripping words of erotica... it ain't that big a deal!)

-- Bill (b4@earthlink.net)