Ah yeah, it's me Isaac again. By the time I'm speaking of here, I had been living and teaching English in Bangkok for over a year and I had expanded my business horizons so to speak. I had been studying Thai regularly at the big American University Association (AUA) establishment in Bangkok. This was formerly part of the United States Department of Information in the Foreign Service, but with the elimination of the department had become private. I had attained a reasonable fluency in spoken Thai and had made inroads into literacy with the difficult script. This had given me access to people I might not had access to as clients formerly

Notice I say 'client' not 'student'; I thought it had more class. One such client was Khun Suthin. (the Khun is simply one of several words for 'you' but is also used ahead of a person's first name like Mr./Ms.) He was a kind of shy, retiring proprietor of a mid-size export business of Thai handicrafts and some upscale object d'art from the Royal Patronage schools. His business was truly international and almost exclusively conducted in English. I wondered how much had gone wrong before he hired me on an occasional basis. Khun Suthin had heard of me from a long-time student who knew of the extent of my Thai fluency, and hired me to 'teach him English'. Actually, Khun Suthin spoke quite passable English, but was almost completely ignorant of the niceties of English language business correspondence. He would prepare drafts of business letters, e-mails, and other forms of correspondence, and I would sit at the computer correcting spelling and grammar and adding some of the polite sentences such correspondence required to be according to forms.

For this he paid me my hourly rate for teaching, and it was a great boost to my meager income, if impossible to make regular. Khun Suthin's business went in spurts of intense activity and meager needs for extra help in between, so I could log several hours some weeks and few or none others. I could also do this work at night, when I had few teaching gigs otherwise. It was a nice relief from the regular English teaching routine and Khun Suthin was a very likable man. He might have me sit down for a chat in English and a drink after I'd finished with correspondence, but scrupulously paid me for all of my time spent with him.

One evening I was doing some correspondence when Khun Suthin answered a ring at the front door of the small retail shop he maintained in the front of his establishment. This served as a showroom of the wares he dealt in to show prospective importer clients of his more than anything. I heard the door close and Khun Suthin came scuttling into the office followed by the booming sounds of the sort of loud, vulgar American that made want to pretend to be Canadian. I have no idea why I say that predictably, his name was Archie. I somehow knew this.

A loud voice said, "Lemee tellya Suthin, that last shipment was reely reely sumthin', O boy."

Khun Suthin looked at me with an almost frantic expression that said he didn't understand anything of what the fellow was saying. Immediately, a large, fat florid American entered the office and looked around as if he owned it. He looked to have been poured into a tropical safari suit that clung to every roll of fat on his body, from his bulging neck to below his ponderous belly. I tried to be diplomatic and said, "excuse me, sir, but I don't think Khun Suthin understands what you're saying."

"Whaddya mean?" he boomed, "this here's mah third visit to Bangkok heer and ole Suthin alwus unnerstood ever'thin I said to him before." He looked at me with piggish eyes sunk in fat on his face, "an' who're you kid? Ah ain't never seen you here before." "I'm Khun Suthin's sometime assistant for correspondence and other matters," I said almost priggishly, "he must have hired me after your last visit." "That so?" he stated rather than asked. Wal' ah jus' came to tell him ever'thin is AOK with our business. Ah mean, ah didn' hafter come all the way here to tell him, but ah lahk a little fun away from the wahf." He gave me a leering wink. I shuddered. "Name's'Archie," he said, conspicuously not extending a hand for me to shake.

He fixed Khun Suthin with his porcine glance and said, "hot damn, Suthin, whus'it lahk to live here in this sex heaven? Ah only get ter visit." Khun Suthin gave me another agitated look of incomprehension. I managed to sense from the way Khun Suthin reacted, that however awful Archie was, his business was important. I put together 'sex heaven' from literary Thai words for the concept as praweni sawaan, that in no way went comprehensibly together, in the midst of a rapid translation of what Archie had said. Khun Suthin nodded and said quickly in Thai he'd never sampled the offerings of the sex area, Patbong, and beyond.

I turned and said as evenly as I could, "Ah, Khun Suthin is rather preoccupied with his business and has never been to those parts of the city that make Bangkok, as you say, sex heaven." Archie went and put a bearish paw around Khun Suthin's shoulders, who shuddered at this inappropriate invasion of his personal space. Archie further fairly shouted, "Wal' shee'it lemme take you boys on a lil' tour lahk. Ah got me a hahrd car and driver outside."

I never advertised to my Thai clients that I was gay, and the prospect of visiting straight sex places was less distasteful than Archie himself. I explained the proposition to Khun Suthin who reluctantly nodded and blinked a few times as if to say he appreciated having me along as a buffer. I turned to Archie and said, "ah, Khun Suthin has said he would appreciate a tour from a man of experience such as yourself." The boor seemed to like this appeal to his ego, smiled, and said, "cummon, les' go."

We followed Archie out, and he waited impatiently as Khun Suthin locked up and then lowered and locked the thief screen. Archie had hired a, to me, fabulously expensive chauffeured car from one of the city's first class hotels. We got in, with me in the front seat, and Archie said peremptorily, "Patbong." The driver nodded and we drove off.

The driver went up Wireless Rd. and let us off at one of the several lanes that entered the sex complex known as Patbong. It wasn't that far from Harry's bar, which I've told of before, but I didn't let on. We followed Archie into the narrow lane, which was choked with people and the stalls of souvenir vendors. A twist and a turn took us to a bar called 'The Good Head" and Archie smiled at us proprietarily, "give you boys a kinda appetizer lahk." Archie simply moved off to enter the bar. Khun Suthin gave me a look that was almost sickly but followed his customer, with me bringing up the rear.

The bar was strange as the tables where customers sat were tall, wide, and the entire was curtained from the level of the tabletop to the floor, with slits in the curtains in front of each bar stool to accommodate the sitter's legs. I looked around and noticed Archie ordering up three women from a group that sat at ordinary restaurant tables next to the door. I figured out what kind of a bar this was and felt sorry for Khun Suthin. He was the only Thai man among the customers and was about to be mortified.

Archie gestured for us to sit at one of the tables, and ordered three beers in English. The three women Archie had chosen proceeded to crouch and get under the curtains of the table through the slit in front of the fourth, unoccupied bar stool. I had heard of these fellatio bars and didn't mind getting my cock sucked, as long as I didn't have to see it was a woman doing it. Unseen hands unsnapped and unzipped my pants, pulled my underpants down below my balls, and the person began to arouse my prick to erection with skillful hands and mouth. Archie had a beatific look on his face and took a sip of beer as assumedly the same happened to him. Khun Suthin had a stricken look on his face that made him look like a frightened rodent about to be captured by a hawk.

A skilled mouth began to adroitly suck my cock and I just relaxed into it. I figured good head was good head wherever you got it. Khun Suthin looked aroused in spite of himself. Archie took another sip of beer and smacked his lips, "purty good, huh boys?" The man annoyed me and I just smiled in answer. Poor Khun Suthin was making little rhythmic gasps, assumedly in time with the stroking mouth giving him what I thought was his first head. I figured Archie was making it a contest to see who could hold out the longest before cumming, as his face was furrowed in concentration, despite showing obvious pleasure at what was happening in his crotch.

Khun Suthin gave a little yip and seemed to melt into his barstool as he orgasmed. I decided to make our host the de facto winner and abandoned all control. Suddenly, I felt that little hitch in my cock and I made a little, "mmm," as I let it cum. The unseen mouth that had pleasured my cock sucked up every spurt of my orgasm. Unseen hands proceeded to wipe my penis with a still warm wet towel, and then efficiently tucked me back into my pants and did them up. Archie seemed satisfied he had won and finally let himself go with a little, "ooooeeee." I shuddered again.

We left the beers unfinished and proceeded on the tour. Archie took us to at least three of the usual go-go bars, with a raised stage in the middle of the rectangular bar. Several fire poles were attached to the stage for the bored bikini-clad dancers to hold onto as they gyrated to long forgotten disco music. Archie would chortle and elbow both me and Khun Suthin with a too loud, "Ooh yeah, boys, I done had her," pointing to one or another of the dancers. The straight trip was getting to be too much for me.

Archie finally led back to where his car waited. We got in and he said, "Chow Phray-yaa Maesagge." I recognized the fractured name of the Chao Phraya Massage Parlor, arguably the largest in the world, and wondered how the driver understood. He nodded and took off.

We came to a huge building set in a spacious parking lot on one of the major east-west cross streets near Victory Monument, one of Bangkok's enormous and notorious traffic roundabouts. We entered the establishment's huge lobby and I was struck of how, not vulgar as too judgmental a word, exploitive the whole thing was. The available masseuses sat in what was called the 'fishbowl'.

This was an enormous room fronted with smoked, and was reputed to be one-way glass, which allowed the outside viewer to see the women within and, so it was said, did not allow them to see the prospective customers. Each masseuse wore a prominent plastic badge on her tight blouse or tee shirt with a number on it. Touts in suits stood in front of the fishbowl ready to receive a customer's wish of which masseuse he desired, identified by her badge number. One tout spoke into a microphone, calling the number of the favored masseuse over speakers inaudible to the outside customers. At the same time, another tout led the customer to where he would meet up with his chosen masseuse and go to a massage room. For a basic hourly fee, the customer received a warm bath from his masseuse and was given a perfunctory Thai body massage; for an extra fee, usually paid directly to the woman, he could have short-time sex with her.

Khun Suthin looked uneasily at the fishbowl, in which the available women sat on carpeted risers so each was readily visible. Archie elbowed poor Khun Suthin in the ribs once again. "Hooee, see them gals up there in the corner with them four nummers on their'n badges?" Khun Suthin looked up in the corner of the interior of the fishbowl where several women sat together. They had uniformly tight tee shirts, each pinned with a badge showing a four digit number, instead of the two or three digit numbers the other women displayed.

"See," chortled Archie, "they's got bigger boobies than them other gals. Yeah, they do that b-course." Khun Suthin looked to me for enlightenment, but I felt my buffer duties were close to an end and offered no explanation. "Yessireee Bob, go for a b-course they strip you, wet and soap you up, and lay you down on a plastic air mattress and wash you all over with them tittties." Archie did a clumsy shimmy that would ruin any appetite. "And then when you'rn so hot you can't take it, you…" He added to his shimmy a pelvic bump and grind which left little to the imagination. "C'mon boys, let's all go for a b-course, on me."

I felt somewhat guilty leaving Khun Suthin to the clutches of Archie and a well-endowed b-course girl, but plead early morning duties and took my clumsy leave. I figured the cost of a taxi home was less taxing than enduring a b-course I assuredly didn't want. I was never so glad to get back to the Lovely Guest House.

My teaching schedule intensified, as did my duties with Khun Suthin, as I helped him with the paperwork and correspondence on several large shipments abroad. We maintained a tacit silence on the entire awful evening with Archie. My lack of opportunity as well as indulgence finally had me in that condition known as 'terminally horny'. I heard from a well-informed acquaintance at the guesthouse that there had opened a gay massage parlor on Paholyothin Rd., a wide south-to-north boulevard that traversed most of Bangkok, and indeed much of the central portion of the country. I got the location from him and decided I would look the establishment over and perhaps get some short-time servicing in a format more natural to me than Archie's choice of massage parlors.

An air-conditioned bus route ran down Paholyothin Rd. as far as Bangkok's international airport, and the massage parlor was near but not quite to that end of the route. I was finished with my teaching mid-afternoon on a Friday at a venue convenient to a stop of the necessary bus route. I carried a change of shirt and underwear in my backpack and didn't bother to return to the guesthouse, as I figured I'd be nice and clean after the short-term arrangement at the massage parlor. I also hoped I'd be suitably laid as well.

I caught the bus and managed to grab a seat, which made the long stop-and-go trip to near the end of the line as comfortable as possible. My seatmate, as requested, jogged my elbow as the bus stopped at the bus stop close to the massage parlor. I would never have recognized it from my acquaintance's description. I thanked my seatmate and got off the bus. By this time, it was early evening. Walking a short distance into a small lane running off the left side of Phaholyothin, I saw a building that was unmistakably a massage parlor, although smaller than the Chao Phraya. I knew I was in the right place. The sign on the gate of the establishment read 'Khatoey Massage'-Khathoey being the Thai word for gay or homosexual. I went in.

The concern was laid out in exactly the same format as the other mentioned massage parlor, with the major difference that the denizens of the fishbowl were all good-looking, young, tautly slender Thai young men, rather than masseuses. They were all clad in shorts and tight tee shirts or tank tops, and each sported the requisite numbered badge. There were a couple of cocktail tables with comfortable chairs surrounding them from which one could survey the possibilities. I was tired from my workday and the long bus ride and decided to relax and have a beer while I considered my choice at leisure. I gestured to one of the touts and ordered a Singha beer. It was brought and I sat, enjoying my beer and the view. From the way numbers of the young men in the fishbowl struck slightly erotic poses and glanced in my direction, I doubted the glass was one-way view as advertised.

I sensed rather than saw someone sit in the chair across the low table from me. I looked to my left and saw an individual sitting down. If he had been wearing jeans, work shirt, and a baseball cap, I would have thought he was a good ole boy from Arkansas. As it was, he was clad in an immaculate safari suit and polished shoes. Thai chairs were always too low for my own comfort, but the way this fellow's knees stuck up as he arranged himself in his chair made me think him rather tall. He had a weathered but still good-looking face which I classified as 'craggy and interesting' rather than straightforward handsome. His slightly thinning head of dark brown hair was combed straight back, and he had a thick but carefully clipped mustache to match. I could discern little else about his looks in the low lobby lighting.

He gave me a smooth smile of the practiced diplomat. "Hello," he said turning toward me, "I don't think I've ever seen you here." He added by way of explanation, "I come here frequently at this time of the early evening." I smiled back. "This is my first visit. I just learned of the existence of this place a short time ago." "Ah yes," he glanced at the fishbowl, "so nice of someone to build an institution of this nature for gentlemen of our persuasion." He looked in my direction as if to ensure I was indeed 'of our persuasion'. I simply smiled back by way of answer.

He was a contradiction, sporting the been around looks of a somewhat handsome hayseed farmer, yet dressed perfectly for business in Bangkok and speaking absolutely cultivated English. Before I could consider further he said, "this is silly, my name is Alfred, Alfred Greystoke, and please don't call me Al." "I'm Isaac," I said, not adding the last name, "pleased to meet you." We shook hands rather formally across the cocktail table. "Your beer looks rather refreshing; I think I'll have one." With that, he gestured to a tout and ordered a beer in smoother spoken Thai than I possessed.

His beer arrived and after the tout had poured a glass, Alfred raised his in a toast, which I returned. "Well, Alfred is resolutely Anglo-Saxon and Isaac…" "Is simply biblical," I completed for him. "My parents were foursquare Christian to the point that they'd open the bible to a page blind and the newborn kid received the first appropriate name they encountered in reading the scripture. For me, it was Isaac." Alfred gestured at the surroundings with his glass, "and here you are." I smiled, "One parent is deceased and the other will remain forever ignorant I am a," I raised my glass, "a gentleman of our persuasion." Alfred smiled, and turned his gaze to the young men in the fishbowl.

"Have you ever tried a b-course?" he asked, and then stopped, "oh, first time and all." I smiled again and said, "I was offered one on the tab last week, but at a straight massage parlor, so I declined." Alfred brightened, "in that case, I highly recommend it here. With the right young man it can be highly, ah, satisfying." "I'm sure it can be satisfying, and the whole idea sounds titillating. But, I also understand it is costly, and I am a mere underpaid English teacher. I think one hour with some short-time will have to do."

Alfred looked contemplative for a moment. "Young man, I'm a well-paid middle-level official in the UN establishment here, ESCAP. It would not be well for advancement, as it were, if my 'persuasion' became general knowledge. So, I use this discreet place as an outlet for my needs, shall we say. It gets dull doing the same old thing regularly. What do you say if we engage two young fellows of our choice and do a joint b-course with them? They have large enough massage rooms to accommodate two b-courses. and doing or being done in proximity might create a certain frisson. Being the better paid of us two, this will be on me, of course. He raised his beer glass and smiled winningly over it.

It took nearly two seconds of consideration to agree as Alfred interested me and the idea of getting such a fine treat free was not to be turned down. I turned and looked at the fishbowl, "sounds like a fine idea. Is there anyone there you'd recommend?" Alfred clinked his glass with mine. "Hmm, number 048 up there in the corner is highly talented in all the arts, if he appeals to you. I looked to where he indicated and found no. 048 did indeed appeal to me. He had the rugged look of a Northern Thai, was better muscled than most of the young men on display. and looked to somewhat virile as well. "Yes, he looks quite interesting. He would suit." Alfred smiled his ineffable smile, "oh, good Isaac you'll find his performance far more interesting than his looks."

"I think I'll take number 052, I haven't done a b-course with him in some time." I looked again where Alfred indicated and saw a handsome young fellow of a more androgynous cast than 048. The fellow was looking directly at Alfred with a half-smile on his face, which convinced me the fishbowl glass was, indeed, two-way in view. "Finish your beer," Alfred said, "and I'll request the two young men for us and the particulars of the encounter."

I drained my glass while Alfred spoke with one of the touts. One tout spoke into the microphone and the two young men we'd selected got up and headed for a door in the rear of the fishbowl. Another tout gestured for Alfred and me to follow him to another door connecting with the space behind the fishbowl. Following Alfred down a narrow corridor, I saw he was indeed tall. He looked to be long and sinewy, yet while standing, the loosely fitted safari shirt of his suit could not disguise the fact he also had a barrel chest. Going through a door at the corridor's end, we encountered our two choices. They positively giggled in anticipation of being engaged and obtaining income, where their compatriots would have none, as yet.

Alfred spoke briefly in Thai, addressing the young men by their numbers, and simply indicated that 048 would be with me. He took off down the corridor arm-in-arm with 052, and 048 wrapped his own arms around me and we hastened to follow. 048 said in bar-boy English, "you cute, what you name." "Isaac," I said simply. "Eye-saak," he replied, "funny name." I cupped his tight fine butt with my hand and said in an approximation of bar-boy English, "you cute too, what you name." "Oh," the Thai giggled, "my name Daeng. Fast fast, we go, you come." He giggled further. I wondered if he knew the slight play on words he had made or not. We quickly followed Alfred and 052.

By the time Daeng and I caught up with Alfred and his young man, they were already in one of the several massage rooms along the corridor. We slid through the half-opened door, closing it behind us, to find an already naked 052 removing Alfred's safari shirt and putting it on a hanger. Daeng quickly doffed his tee shirt and shorts, revealing a slender, tightly muscled brown body. His nipples were ringed with coarse black hair and a line of hair descended from below his navel to join his dense, curly black pubic bush. He lasciviously began to undo my necktie while showing his tongue teasingly between his teeth.

I looked over and saw 052 pull out the tail of Alfred's white undershirt and try to lift it off him. The young man was more than a foot too short and Alfred removed it himself and handed it to 052. I nearly grunted in lustful desire. Alfred was indeed as long torsoed and well muscled as I'd surmised. It was pointless to try to speak separately of his chest hair, or that on his shoulders or back. Most of his upper torso was almost obscured by a nearly complete swirling dark-brown pelt that covered his chest, shoulders, sides, and most of his back. His fur completely ringed his neck, ending where I assumed he shaved it back daily. He looked over at me when Daeng had gotten my white shirt unbuttoned and had it halfway down my arms. "Mmm," he said simply, nodding and smiling. I nodded at his potently virile upper body and said only, "mmm," back.

I lost track of things when Daeng began to extract me from my pants. He did it kneeling and managed to intersperse the unsnapping, unzipping and lowering with the most licentiously arousing caresses of my belly and cock that had me fully erect and shivering with lustful desire. While Daeng went to hang up the last of my clothes, I pulled off my socks and looked at Alfred. His lower half was nearly as wooly as his upper, his muscular long legs displaying a fine hirsute covering and his muscular, nearly convex ass was similarly furred. His cock was similarly erect like mine, but bigger and uncut, standing nearly straight up against his fine body. I approached him and we looked at each other with nodding, mutual approval. I was just running my hand down Alfred's furry belly when Daeng grabbed me from behind and dragged me towards a corner of the room while crying gaily, "clean, clean, clean." 052 contented himself with shoving Alfred gently in the same direction.

Daeng had been so efficient in undressing me, I had not taken stock of the room. It was essentially a very large, completely tiled bathroom. In one corner, there were two showers with the typical Thai showerhead on a hose, held in a bracket arrangements. There were two inflated air mattresses of the sort one lay upon to bask in the middle of a swimming pool in the center of the floor.

The Thais grabbed the showerheads and playfully wet down Alfred and me, and themselves, skipping around us as far as the hoses would allow. We dutifully allowed ourselves to be turned back to back and front to front as the bathing proceeded. When the masseurs dropped the showerheads and reached for plastic bottles on a shelf, Alfred looked down from his superior height and asked, "don't you just love the Thai custom of getting clean before sex?"

I was about to answer when the boys turned and began sprinkling us both liberally with what turned out to be a kind of liquid bath soap. They then began to work up a lather on us, and by transfer of soap, on themselves with their hands and lithe bodies. Alfred and I were turned between two agile bodies with probing hands like the washer rollers in a car wash. I was getting turned on by the whole process, but especially by the unique lascivious feel of brushing against Alfred's wet, soapy fur as we turned. When I was about ready to come from the whole process of brushing bodies, hands, and slick cocks coming in contact, the boys decided it was time for developments in the cycle.

The masseurs turned off the water and pushed Alfred and me, both still completely covered with lather, to the two air mattresses. They pushed us both down onto the mattresses, lying on our stomachs. Playfully squirming, they began rolling across our backs and asses which was incredibly lustful. Suddenly the whole tenor of the encounter changed as the boys went from arousal to massage. Daeng's muscular hands kneaded and tweaked the muscles of my back and my triceps, which caused me to simply melt in relaxation and lassitude. His hands ran down my back until he began to massage the muscles of my buttocks, which he did in a way that was rousing. He was also making small forays to play with my balls and recumbent cock between my legs all the while. I found my erection straining against the inadequate support of the laxly inflated mattress.

Simultaneously, they dismounted from straddling our waists where they had been massaging our backs. Daeng urged me to turn onto my back, continuing to tweak and pinch my muscles seemingly therapeutically and erotically at the same time. I swiveled myself in the direction that allowed me a view of Alfred doing the same. We arrived on our backs at the same time, with both our cocks standing straight as flagpoles and pulsing with the aroused blood that made them erect. We smiled briefly at each other before the boys turned their attention to us again

Both of them were positioned half beside and half on us and urged to us to simply writhe with them. Daeng was especially clever at this, managing to rub all over the front of my body with his supple flesh and at the same time arouse my cock with his clever hands. The very slipperiness of the soap covering us and the unique sensations this Thai on us action engendered in varied body contact was inexpressibly arousing. I almost had to fend Daeng's hands away from my straining cock for fear I'd cum too soon. In terms of foreplay, our soapy state precluded oral stimulation. Also, since this was hired sex, it was not necessary to try to give stimulation to our Thai partners. It was the ultimate luxury to simply lie back and enjoy receiving a unique erotic experience.

Daeng seemed to be the arbiter of what was done to us in triplicate. He cried out in his resonant voice, "fuck, fuck, fuck." The masseurs ceased their writhing and, as if they had choreographed it, mounted our thighs as if getting astride a horse just short of our cocks. Daeng pulled some of the thick soapy lather from my sudsy belly and began to rub it onto my also soapy cock to make it soapier. He applied it with the hands of an aesthete of sex, his fingers leaving dabs here and there from the head of my cock to the root, just above my balls. I began to thrash up and down on the mattress, as if I was having a seizure, at the lubricious feelings of the boy's magic fingers as they made a minor art form out of lubing my prick. When he removed his digits from my cock, I quite literally melted at being released from the pleasurable tension such a simple act induced.

Alfred reached across the small space separating the narrow air mattresses and grasped my shoulder. I looked at him distractedly and he smiled, "I told you that young man was a master of all the arts. What has had you thumping on your pad there like a beached whale was only the prelude; the symphony is about to start." With that, he turned his attention to 052, who was looking at Daeng as if he expected a cue.

Daeng gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head, rose high on his knees, and scrunched forward on his knees until he was positioned over my cock. Out of interest to what Alfred had just said, I glanced over and 052 was acting in concert with Daeng. He was moving into the same position over Alfred's erect spar of a cock. My attention was snatched back to my own situation when Daeng reached behind him and fitted the head of my prick into his ass, lowering himself on his knees just slightly.

Anal muscles with training I couldn't imagine began to play a tune on my flesh flute, as a musician lover had liked to call it, which was incomparable. Continuing his rearward manipulation, he began to lower himself almost unbearably slowly down my cock. All of my pleasure consciousness seemed to be concentrated on the singular feelings engulfing my prick as Daeng took me. The simple act of inserting my cock into a guy's ass, or getting it inserted in this case, had never been so carnally pleasing. I found myself groaning, covered my eyes with one forearm, and threw my other arm out.

I was startled out my concentration on my inestimably pleasured cock when Alfred took my thrown out hand in his own very large hand. "Damn it's nice to have someone to share this with. They are artists in their way, although it's art that won't be displayed in a museum." Whatever he planned to say next was cut off by a guttural, "unnnh," and my own attention became concentrated on my groin as Daeng began the fuck in earnest. My penis felt like a barber pole that was being spun by outside forces as the wizard with my cock up his Thai asshole rode it slowly up and down while using his magic muscles to make carnal knowledge an art form. I was vaguely aware that Alfred was still grasping my hand and at a minor mental level it pleased me to know he was vibrating in reaction to the fucking that was being done to us as much as I was.

I faintly wondered what kind of telepathy the two masseurs maintained. Daeng began to speed up the pace of sliding up and down my quivering cock. The pressure of Alfred's hand holding mine told me he was experiencing the same intensification of fucking speed I was. I forgot everything as Daeng's magic over my cock concentrated every possible sexually aroused feeling I had to be centered on my prick on which Daeng had figuratively impaled himself. I was in the same sense neverland of pleasure I experienced when having sex while very stoned. But for this, I was sensate; acutely aware of every ounce of sorcery my fine brown horseman was working on my body. Suddenly the ante was upped when in the midst of his exquisite posting on my cock Daeng began a massage move on my abs with one hand and reached behind his ass with the other to put pressure on that spot at the base of my cock, and then of my balls to massage with one finger in a circular motion.

In exceptional circumstances, I had had preliminary feelings of bodily urgency before my orgasm began. But in getting the carefully controlled fuck Daeng was giving me, I could feel small whirlpools of voluptuous pleasure at the nerve endings under my pelvis bone coordinating to make that first spurt of semen past electrifying. I lost track of what the boy was doing with hands or asshole to accomplish this prelude, but found myself simply shuddering on the air mattress in an intensely pleasurable anticipation of further pleasure. It seemed that Daeng could sense what was happening. When the preliminary sensory whirlpools combined to the final vortex of the first eruption of cum, he both lowered himself completely while clamping me with his anal muscles and pressed his finger at the base of my prick. My shuddering turned to bucking under my rider as the first electrifying jet of cum coursed up the shaft of my cock and I came to a superlative orgasm.

I lost track of the extent of my orgasmic spurts but finally partially relaxed when I felt I was spent. Yet, diminished waves of pleasure still washed over my body. I raised my head and saw Daeng smiling at me. I became aware that he was still working his muscular magic on my drained cock. He knew the post-orgasmic penis was still acutely sensible to pleasuring. Finally the wizardry no longer had effect and I waved him off. He stood up and I flopped out of him totally soft. I became aware of a slightly painful sensation in my left hand and looked to see that Alfred was still grasping my hand with his strong, large one and I figured he had to have squeezed in direct relation to the pleasure in the air when we both came. I tried to ease my hand out his strong grip, which caused him to sort of come to his senses and look over at me.

"Remarkable, eh Isaac?" he used his right hand to rub his forehead, "how they do that slow buildup…" "Yes," I rudely interjected to finish his statement, "all the hot water, and the soaping and the massage, and the rubbing, and they…" "Fuck you half to death," he similarly completed. "I wouldn't want to try that with high blood pressure."

I suppose we might have continued our mutual appreciation of our partners' remarkable carnal skills when Daeng squatted next to the mattress and prodded me. "Clean, clean, clean," he said in a less jolly and more assertive tone. 052 was similarly nudging Alfred into action. When we had managed to sit upright on the air mattresses, our masseurs began positively shoving at us. We both groaned, managed to stand, and were gently goaded toward the paired showerheads. It only then occurred to me that both of us were still half-covered with soapy froth and needed a rinse.

As we ambled toward the showers, with the boys pushing us like border collies herding sheep, Alfred said, "I'm very glad I thought to suggest that we do this together. It increased my pleasure to know there was someone there experiencing just such an orgasm together with me. Don't you agree?" As the boys tested the water temperature and gestured we should come and rinse. I made polite noises of agreement. I didn't want him to know I had been insensate to his presence during the entire of our session save for the fact he had been gripping my hand the whole time.

Despite the fact it was post-sex, the boys managed to make rinsing as amusing as soaping, despite the fact no amount of arousal could have gotten a response from either my nor Alfred's prick. We did the same gavotte with turns and bodies rubbing as the two Thais ran the showerheads over us. It was much easier to rinse me than the hirsute Alfred, and finally both the masseurs were working on him and I playfully joined them, running my hands through his pelt as if he were a dog I was rinsing after a bath. I was surprised when under a double overhead shower he grabbed me around the waist, pulled me to him, and bent and kissed me long and sensuously.

"Damn, it's been fun to have another European to enjoy this with. I mean these boys are fantastic, but professionals waiting for baht. I mean…" He trailed off. I thought I understood what a strain, and what isolation it would have to be to be professionally closeted. My thoughts were interrupted when Alfred gave me a quick smack again and asked, "what's your teaching schedule like tomorrow morning?" I was puzzled but thought a minute, "well, I've nothing until about two in the afternoon, why?"

The boys turned to shut off the water and went to find towels for us. "It's crazy, and a risk since there are other ESCAP sorts that live in my apartment building, but I thought to buy our two stalwarts here out from the management for the night, invite you along, and have us all spend the night together." He hurried on, "I mean I've taken one or another the boys home for an all night on the weekend. But, group action never seemed possible." He put one hand on my chest and nervously played with what little chest hair I have, while looking expectant. Alfred turned me on and after the fucking I'd just experienced I didn't think long. "Fine idea, I've clean clothes along I can wear tomorrow anyway."

As the boys vigorously toweled us dry, Alfred let loose with a torrent of Thai I only half understood, but assumed outlined what he proposed to the boys and their role in it. They almost dropped our towels on the wet floor in happy reaction to Alfred's proposal, and gave much more intimate, personal attention than one might expect for something like getting dried after a bath. I was absentmindedly enjoying the luxury of being dried by hands other than my own when Alfred called, "Isaac?" I looked around and registered surprise at the fact he was fully dressed except for his safari shirt. "I have to negotiate getting the boys out of here and settle the bill, which will take a while. Get dressed at your leisure and meet me in the lobby. The boys have to get their street clothes and such anyway." I just nodded.

Daeng started to fetch my clothes for me and I told him in Thai to not bother and go get dressed to meet Mr. Alfred. Daeng registered surprised that I spoke Thai. "Mr. Eye-sak speak Thai? Good!" Daeng shooed 052 out the door and was about to do leave himself. "Daeng," I called, "what is 052's name?" Daeng looked over his shoulder from the door, "oh, his 'play name' (Thai for nickname) is Lek."

I grimaced at putting my very clean self into the day's soiled work clothes but wanted to save the clean change for the next day. Once dressed I retraced my way out of the massage room complex to the lobby. The boys were already waiting, carrying large shoulder bags and Alfred was busy talking to one of the touts, and then handed over what looked to be substantial amount of cash by my lights. He turned and came towards us looking satisfied. "There that's settled. The boys are essentially with us until they need to report to work tomorrow afternoon. Come on, let's go to my car."

We followed Alfred out to the parking lot of the massage parlor to a late model Toyota. I stood looking impressed and Alfred protested, "hey, it's a company car. I can't afford the vehicle taxes in this country." The boys squeezed into the back seat and I took shotgun. Alfred drove out the small lane and back onto Phaholyothin Rd. heading back toward the center of Bangkok. He let loose with another of his fluent Thai lectures. The gist of it was he lived in an apartment building, and for 'reasons', we had to make sure no one, or as few as possible, saw the boys. They'd have to hide below eye level in the back seat, and so forth. He asked them sharply if they understood. I was interested, as the boys had been in high spirits from being released from a few more hours of short-time massage, and into the exclusive company of a man they seemed to like, and me. Alfred's emphatic tone seemed to sober them and they replied in unison, 'we understand.'

Alfred drove to within a short distance of the Victory Monument turnaround and turned onto Soi Aree 5. Soi, or lane, no. five of the street was a famous old market district of Bangkok, which even I had heard of. He came to a dead end of the lane and turned into an even narrower lane that dead-ended at a high double gate. Alfred turned and rather sharply ordered the boys to crouch below the level of the window and stay there until he told them it was all right. The boys dutifully made themselves scarce as Alfred got out and pressed a doorbell ringer next to the gate. He got back in and said, "the gate has to be opened by a kind of majordomo. He'll go back to bed and never look again, and knowing my neighbors' habits, if not them, I'll be the last in this evening."

The gate was opened by a wizened Thai who shuffled rather than walked. Alfred drove in and the old man moved slowly to close the gate. The place, even in the light of the fluorescent evening lights, was quite fantastic. There was a large block of apartments in a four-floor building. To the side of that was a two-story Thai house in the semi-European style of the late 19th century, all set in a spacious garden behind high walls. The ground floor of the apartment building was entirely car parking for the tenants, except for a single flat at the far end, located across a narrow concrete decking from the large house.

Alfred drove slowly until he looked in his rear-view to see that the majordomo had gone back into the tiny guardhouse where he apparently slept. "That single flat there is mine, but it's just across the terrace from the landlady's house-dreadful old harridan named Madame Prayat." I laughed inwardly, as the Madame's name meant 'save', in as to economize. I can drive right in front of my front door and the boys can get out on my side, so no one can see them. Then I'll park in my spot." Alfred did as he said and pulled into a space just in front of the sliding glass door of the single ground floor flat. He got out, gesturing for me to stay in, and opened a sliding glass door that seemed to be the front door of the flat. Coming back to the car, he pushed forward the driver's seat and motioned the boys to get into the flat. They scampered out and into the door. Only then did he motion me to go in, and then went to park his car in the usual place next to his neighbors' cars.

I went in, and from the atmosphere of 'no one must see the boys', closed curtains which obscured any view in through the glass front of the apartment. I snooped a bit briefly. It was a remarkably spacious apartment with a large living room, and small if complete kitchen. The boys settled themselves on the rattan furniture in the reception area in a way that made it clear they'd been in the place before. Alfred slipped thought the opening in the drapes and opened the door so the screen door allowed air in. He wiped his forehead and removed his safari shirt. "Bedroom is AC'd," he said, and draped his shirt over a dining chair, "but all there is here is that stand fan."

At this point, Alfred seemed at a loss what to do. On a whim he'd secured the all night services of two supremely talented boytoys, and included me in the package. After the rumbustious sex we'd been treated to, there was little question of an encore for some time. "Would you like some, ah, Scotch, I've got Scotch." I indicated this would be fine-in my position, good tipples of any sort were a treat. The boys indicated they wanted sa-prite-Thais, being hard put to pronounce consonant clusters like sp- tended to syllabize it. Alfred made two scotch-rocks and two lemon-limes with ice and distributed drinks.

The boys had sat in the two individual chairs of the reception set of furniture, which had Alfred settling himself on the settee with me. The foam pads on the furniture were thin and well used and Alfred shifted his angular frame to try to get comfortable. We were all there for a reason that wasn't urgent yet and the silence was awkward. Lek giggled as Alfred's arm found its way halfway around my shoulders. I wondered if the choice of the boys' seating was intentional. I finally asked Daeng, in Thai, if he liked working at the massage parlor. "Oh yes," he replied, "I like it when I meet nice men like you or Mr. Alfred." Professional to the end.

Alfred looked at me. "I didn't know you spoke Thai." "I'm still studying at AUA. I speak it but not as well as you." Alfred looked around and took a distracted sip of his Scotch. He seemed similarly to be put out by the ungainly situation. He took out a handkerchief and mopped his sweaty forehead. "Why on earth build a city on a swampy river delta?" he complained. "I usually go around naked in here, with the curtains closed. He brightened. "In the situation, why not?"

Without explanation, he got up and went through a door to what I guessed was the bedroom. In short order, he reemerged totally naked. He suggested playfully in Thai that Daeng and Lek might like to see how interesting they could undress each other to music. He put a cassette in a stereo next to the settee, turned on innocuous soft rock, and sat down next to me. I reached to unbutton my shirt, and Alfred stopped me. "I'll do that while the boys entertain. We came here to have fun for more than a one hour limit."

Daeng and Lek were wearing little more than they had been wearing while in the fishbowl, but they made a fine show of discarding it. They did a small dance in front of a display cabinet built into the wall and then went into a clinch, reaching to lift each other's tee shirt tails up sportively in time to the music. At the same, naked furry Alfred was unbuttoning my shirt in similar time to the music, and ran his hand across my pectorals in a very suggestive way, while jerking my shirt tail out of the waistband of my pants. Despite my decidedly sexually depleted state, the action of my hirsute undresser, together with the sight of the two masseurs divesting each other of their shirts was causing unexpected but decidedly pleasurable stirrings.

At that time, the boys reached nakedness. Simultaneously, Alfred had my pants and underpants down around my ankles and was surprisingly rubbing his face in my crotch before pulling back and urging me to remove my feet from the last of my clothes. I wondered at that point who desired whom, but was open to all possiblities. There we were, four naked guys with three piles of clothing and the two foreigners in the group, supposedly in charge and who didn't have any ideas about what to do. Alfred took another sip of his Scotch and looked again at me with a look of inspiration on his face. "Do you smoke dope?" he asked conspicuously in English. I nodded. "It makes me terminally horny." Alfred nodded sagely. He thought a moment and then asked the boys in Thai if they had ever used ganja. Given their orientation and profession, I would have been surprised at a refusal. As expected, they nodded enthusiastically yes.

Alfred went to a cabinet below the display cabinet and extracted a cookie tin. Opening this he pulled out a couple of obviously altered cigarettes, and put the tin aside. "Dynamite stuff," Alfred said, looking for and locating a lighter. "I have to go to a slum off Victory Monument. Houses on stilts and just wooden walkways and planks to avoid the slough, but you get to a house where these two young men are just chopping dope with cleavers on cutting boards, in plan sight. Must have the cops paid off well, as they and their customers are never hassled." He lit one of the cigarettes, took a hit, and passed it to me. I followed suit and passed the number across to the coffee table. Although Daeng and Lek had said they had used ganja, they were very tentative about taking hits. By the time the thing got back to me it was time to stub it out and start over.

It occurred to me, in the stoned haze that settled after starting the second number, that Alfred's ganja was indeed good. And it seemed to be opening wellsprings of rejuvenation for sexual desire I wouldn't have thought possible so soon after being so well laid. I was sitting next to a good-looking genuine bear I was fairly sure desired me, as I did him. We could sort out the who-does-what-to-whom conundrum and continue the present interlude.

I was about to say something when Alfred snapped to and laughed. He fixed me with a slightly out of focus look and asked, "Isaac, have you ever had sex in a swimming pool?" Whatever I might have expected him to say, that wasn't it. "No. I've had sex in some odd places, but not under water, yet." Alfred looked resolute. "This place has a nice swimming pool, and no one uses it but me. It's away from the servant quarters and everything but Madame Harridan's house. If we're quiet enough, we could…" He trailed off but stood and went back to the bedroom. I noticed his novel thoughts had his fine cock started to erection.

Alfred returned to the living room in short order with a pile of towels and the dishtowel like length of cotton called a pakamah that Thai men used to wrap like an ad hoc sarong around the house. He asked the boys in Thai if they could swim. They replied that no, they could only do 'play water', a Thai term meaning wading and fooling around in the shallow end. Alfred put on his serious face and said we would all go to the swimming pool, but the boys had to be absolutely quiet. Talk in whispers and no happy noises or such, he emphasized. The two Thais nodded solemnly and Alfred threw each a pakamah and a towel from the pile he held.

He came over to the settee and handed me a pakamah and towel as well. "Did you understand what I said to the boys?" "Well enough," I said, accepting a pakamah. I stood up and wrapped the pakamah in sarong mode. Alfred did the same and stopped us all at the front door, peeking out for all the world like an Indian scout in a bad Western. He then gestured for us to follow him, with elaborate hand gestures to maintain silence.

We followed Alfred out across the concrete decking to a far corner of the garden, where the swimming pool was set amid well mown grass. Alfred pointed to some small cabins to the far side of the landlady's house and whispered in Thai, "servants' quarters, be quiet." We all nodded.

We left our discarded pakamahs and towels in little piles on the coping of the pool and eased ourselves into the shallow end via the steps. The idea of aquatic sex was interesting, but with the need to be quiet, we were at a loss at what to do. The water was the temperature of tepid bath water but comfortable. All four of us huddled in the shallow end. Suitably stoned, hands sort of crisscrossed between us four to reach for various parts of anatomy. We moved closer into a four way clinch, with our arms around each other's waists. In the unplanned arrangement of the group, I'd ended up next to Alfred and my hand found itself fondling his hairy ass. His hand seemed to be doing the same thing to mine and we broke from the Thais to gravitate into a clinch of our own. Alfred bent down from his superior height and treated my upper lip to a fine brush by his thick mustache as he kissed me.

We were enjoying what we were doing when the boys began their border collie routine of herding us toward the coping of the pool. I was puzzled and wondered if they felt slighted that we were paying attention to each other, but was disabused of this when they pushed us to sit close together on the coping with our legs dangling in the water. Crouching in the water, Lek began to suck Alfred's cock and Daeng mine. We simply fell into each other's arms and began simply to nuzzle and brush lips. There was no sense of urgency-I'd never felt any at the massage parlor and was sure Daeng had a one-hour timer in his head. But Alfred eased into it until we were seriously making out. I'd been in some interesting sexual combinations, but never had made out passionately with a mustached bristly bear I genuinely desired while having my cock sucked. It was a kind of erotic discovery.

Alfred disengaged his tongue from mine and said into my cheek, "why don't we continue this in the house? The swimming pool wasn't such a good idea really." I combed his chest hair with my fingers. "Fine with me." Alfred whispered significantly to the boys that they get out of the pool, dry off, and we'd go back to his apartment. We all dried off the significant portions and got back to this apartment. Alfred daringly lit up a third number, which he and I largely shared. In good Thai style, the boys had accepted becoming sexual attendants where Alfred and I were the principals.

Alfred had me in hand and just walked me towards the bedroom after he had closed and locked the sliding door. We went into the bedroom and he simply closed the door and turned on a wall air conditioner. His sleeping arrangements were two very large single beds pushed together, which made the total area of a king-sized bed. We simply fell together onto one bed and the masseurs scrambled to see what they could do to further the situation.

It was hard arranging myself with someone as tall as Alfred. We were in a close clinch and the boys were hovering. We were making out passionately and the Thais were trying to figure out how to fit in. In the midst of the kissing, Alfred ran a finger up my ass and whispered in a civilized manner in my ear, "shall I or shall you?" I backed up against his hand and said, "you shall." I almost yelped when a sinuous Thai tongue found it's way up my asshole. Our Thai young men had ended up rimming us both while we clinched on the bed.

There was a small desk next to Alfred's bed. He reached in the central drawer and extracted a tube of lube. The munificence of having hired minions fascinated me. He simply handed the lube to Daeng and continued to enjoy the attentions of Lek with his tongue up Alfred's ass as we made out. Daeng carefully applied the gel up my own ass. I was about to suggest something when Daeng said in Thai to accomplish our congress on our sides. I looked at Alfred, and he just shrugged.

Trying to agreeable, I turned on my side and bent at the waist to give Alfred access. He fitted himself to me spoon style and took hold of my chest. His pelt was tickling me at every access point along my back and rear-I loved it. He fitted his cockhead into my ass and took me in one fairly quick thrust. I grunted, as he was big, but relaxed as he began to thrust slowly and regularly. Daeng proceeded to place himself in front of me, in the opposite direction and began to adroitly suck my cock while Alfred fucked me. Like I have said, I've been in some interesting sexual combinations, but these boys were coming up with innovations I mightn't have thought of. The feeling of my furry mount plumbing my ass finely while Daeng sucked my cock in ways I though should perhaps be declared nearly illegal had me groaning. Through my haze of pleasure, I was able to notice that Alfred was groaning too. With some contortion, I was able to look over my shoulder and notice that Lek had arranged himself behind Alfred and was rimming his hairy ass while he fucked me.

I appreciated the creativity of our attendants, and we simply contorted, fucked, and groaned for some fine stoned time. Suddenly Alfred moaned anew and said, "I'm cumming, Isaac, oh God am I coming." Daeng seemed to take some cue from this and performed some intensified oral magic on my own cock so my own orgasm burst forth explosively. While Alfred shuddered behind me, his cock full up my ass, I poured my orgasm into Daeng's clever mouth, and he took every ounce of my cum. After some time, we finally all relaxed and the boys went discreetly to the bathroom to clean up while Alfred withdrew his spent cock from my ass.

I turned over and we clinched in post-orgasmic comfort. "Damn, your little wizards there arrange some creative things to do with sex," I commented. Alfred rolled onto his back with arm behind his head, which was hirsutely sexy. "They've come up with stuff I've never experienced, but," he reached over caressed my chest, "you're a finely interesting element to the combination."

When the boys returned, Alfred and I had a nice, slow, mutual bath in his big bathtub with much furry soaping and rinsing. It was incredibly erotic, if not sexually in our depleted state. We had a repeat performance of our combination with Alfred's and my roles reversed, before Alfred hustled them into his car the next morning and I took the bus up Phaholyothin road to go teach.

I most certainly continued to see Alfred, however.