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International Relations

Posted by: SoloTouchArchive Author: admin Posted on: 14 Apr 2005 0 comments
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by Andrew A few years ago the World Youth Games were held in my home city in the UK and my parents were approached to act as hosts to competitors who for whatever reason were not to be accommodated in the competitors' village.Shortly before the Games got underway we were phoned to say that there was a sole competitor from Indonesia who was taking part in the swimming. He was officially recognized by his country but was travelling with his sponsor and his coach. The sponsor and the coach would have separate arrangements made for them but would my parents be prepared to give hospitality to the swimmer, ensuring that he had breakfast in the morning and a bed to sleep in at night. We were told that he spoke some English and that he was polite and well mannered. There was one slight snag : the request came so late that my parents, not expecting one, had fixed up to spend a month in South Africa visiting my elder sister; but as I was 21 and in my last year at University, it was agreed that I could act as host in their place. Our house was quite a large one and I was pleased with the idea of not being alone during the Games, which I was keen to attend. It was quite a shock when he arrived because his sponsor turned out to be a gorgeous Norwegian blonde, called Ingrid, in her mid-thirties, with long, flowing hair and a determined manner. She spoke English so well that it was difficult to tell whether she was anything but English. His coach, Anton, was originally from Czechoslovakia but he had been educated in England and had lived for some time in Indonesia. He spoke Lomi's dialect and told me that Lomi and Ingrid were engaged to be married, even though Lomi was only about 21. When I asked him why he was only "about" 21, Anton told me that he had been born on one of Indonesia's many islands, the youngest of a large family. They were too poor to send him to school and no record had been kept of his birth. On this island, apparently, it was the custom for the youngest member of the family to look after the parents as they aged; and as Lomi was about eight years younger than the next older brother and may have been younger than some of his nephews and nieces, it fell to him to look after his parents. They had both died when he was about 14 and he was left an orphan. Meanwhile he had helped with tourism on the island, which is how he met Anton, who was the first entrepreneur to arrive there from the West. He acted as a caddy on the new golf course, he took tourists out fishing in a boat and he spent a lot of time in the water swimming. Though he had had no formal education he was intelligent and had quickly picked up enough English to serve his needs. Anton helped him when necessary, realizing that Lomi had a specific talent for swimming; and since he had been a coach in England before coming to Indonesia, he took the lad in hand. His progress was so rapid that an application for him to represent Indonesia in the 50 metres freestyle event at the Youth Games was officially accepted, and the person responsible for vetting and authorizing the application was Ingrid, who at stage in her career was acting for the Indonesian Government. As soon as I met Lomi I realized why Ingrid had got her hands on him. He was one of those people from whom good nature seems to shine out of the eyes. He had lovely manners, a beaming smile, immensely good humour, found everything interesting and on greeting you he clasped both hands together and bowed his head over them. Except for his nose, which was a little too snub for the western idea of beauty, he was exceptionally good-looking, with fine dark hair, deep brown eyes and a figure so slim that I was not surprised he was fast through the water. Training with Anton had given him broader shoulders than he might otherwise have had, so he looked the picture of fitness and good health. When he was introduced to me, he bowed over his triangulated hands, gave me a broad smile and said "Hello, Andy, please call me Lomi." I was pleased because the name that had been spelt on the paper introducing him to my parents had been several syllables long and looked unpronounceable in English-speak. Ingrid was quick to take charge. "Lomi will stay with you here, now, and you will give him breakfast in the morning. Then I will arrange for a taxi to take him to the swimming baths so that he can practise. In the evening he will come to my hotel and I will arrange for him to come back to you at about 10 o'clock." I noticed that Anton grimaced while Ingrid was telling me this, giving me the feeling that he disapproved of the way she dominated things. I was astounded at the thought that Ingrid and Lomi could be engaged to be married and determined to find out more from Anton in due course. When we were left alone Lomi turned out to be talkative, though he had problems with pronouns and verbs. By temperament he was naturally cheerful and full of curiosity about the English way of life. I soon learned that this was his first trip outside Indonesia and that he was a "jungle boy" - having been raised in a village far from twentieth century civilization. When I asked him if he had a religion, he was not sure what I meant. I gathered that his family (his numerous brothers and sisters) were fond of him but too poor and too preoccupied with their own affairs to do much for him, and he spoke more of Anton than anyone else. That first evening was not the time to press him on the subject of Ingrid, but - thinking about it - I could see that it was in his interest to tie himself to her wheel. She was his sponsor and was making this trip possible for him. From Ingrid's point of view, however, I could see why she wanted him. Not only was he devastatingly attractive to look at, but his warm brown skin against her golden hair and white skin made a stunning contrast. Moreover he never talked back at her - or anyone else, for that matter. He greeted everyone with smiles and the same winning bow of the head over clasped hands. The next morning, after I had given him breakfast, a taxi, sent by Ingrid, arrived to take him to the swimming pool. Later that morning I went down to see him swim; and a lovely sight he was, so slim-hipped in his swimming trunks that if you saw him from the side he looked as thin as a piece of paper. There was a smooth bulge in his trunks, but because he was so streamlined he swam like a fish and I was not surprised that he had met the minimum time for qualification. He and Anton worked well together, Anton using as few words as possible, and Lomi being willing to try out anything his coach suggested. There was a week's acclimatization and practice for competitors before the week of the Games and Lomi worked hard, setting off each morning in his taxi at about nine o'clock and returning in the evening at 10. Sometimes Ingrid accompanied him, sometimes not. It was a few days before the first heat that things changed dramatically. My computer was in his bedroom and I needed to look something up on the internet. He had gone to bed as soon as he got in and I could see from the light shining under his door that he was still awake. I therefore knocked - rather perfunctorily - and went in. I saw at once that he hadn't heard my knock because he was lying back on his pillow with ear-phones on. At the same time there was a rhythmic motion going on under the single sheet that covered his body which could mean only one thing. When he saw that I had entered the room, the movements stopped, he took off his ear-phones, placed his hands over the hump under the sheet and bowed his head in his usual greeting. He looked startled but not especially embarrassed. "Sorry, Lomi," I said, "I didn't realise that you hadn't heard my knock. Carry on, if you like" - and I looked meaningfully at his hands and the hump they were covering. He gave me his dazzling smile. "Is all right, Andy" he said. "Were you thinking of Ingrid ?" I asked. "No" (turning his hands down so that they pointed suggestively at the hump) "No - only me." "Do you do it often ?" I asked, amazed because as far as I knew he had just spent an evening with Ingrid. "Yes" he said simply. "I come quick - very quick." There was a pause, and then he said "You, Andy, like to see ?" He pointed again at the ridge his dick was making in the bed. Would I like to see ! I sensed that familiar stirring in my loins which comes with the certain knowledge that sex is at hand and I made my way over to his bed and sat beside him feeling very excited indeed. He wasn't at all shy : as soon as I sat beside him he threw back the sheet and revealed all. My first impression was how dark his ball sac was. Then my eyes focused on his dick. It was very stiff and pointing up towards his belly rather than into the air. It was uncut, quite slight in girth and length, and the foreskin was short, wrinkled and loose. It looked well used ! As I watched he put his hand on it and peeled the foreskin back, revealing a small but shapely glans which gleamed purple in the bedside-lamplight. The foreskin was too loose to clip in behind the rim and he moved it gently up and down, covering and uncovering his knob. "You like ?" he said. "You're lovely" I replied breathlessly, my own dick tenting my jeans and wanting to get out into the open. "You like to touch ?" he said. "I cum very quick." I placed my hand on his shaft and pulled back the foreskin as I had seen him do. He took a deep breath, then put his hand on mine and moved it up and down to establish the rhythm he liked best. Then he leaned back and closed his eyes while I stroked him, up and down, up and down. I felt his dick swell and contract several times and then there was a final swelling and another deep breath and he gasped "I cum". As I watched, the bubble of clear pre-cum which had appeared at the tip of his knob suddenly bloomed white and an ooze of white sperm appeared, growing longer and falling on my finger and thumb as he panted in the ecstasy of the contractions. I looked up into his face. His eyes were closed but as I looked they opened, and a brilliant smile overspread his face. "Thank you" he said. "You, wonderful." "You're wonderful too" I said, wondering with my hard-on pressing so tightly against my jeans whether he would be interested in stroking me. I didn't have long to wait. Seeing the bulge in my jeans he placed his finger on it and said "Show." I needed no further encouragement. I undid my belt and with one movement dropped both my jeans and my underpants to the floor. My eight inch dick sprung out, only inches from his eyes. "You - long" he said, fingering my foreskin and pulling it back so that it clipped in behind the rim of my glans, wet with pre-cum. "You longer than Anton � but he � more fat." I was stunned ! Was Lomi having it off with Anton, Ingrid AND myself ? There seemed no end to his sexual appetite. But I had no time to think about this at that moment - I had other pressing urges which Lomi was now attending to, very gently and sensitively. He ran his slim fingers up and down my shaft and used my pre-cum to slide his fingers over my knob. I almost came, there and then, and it was a relief when he said "Lie here - by me." I joined him on the narrow bed, felt with my hand for his newly stiffening dick and let him wank me, which he did with great skill. When I was ready to shoot I told him "Here it comes" and I surrendered entirely to waves of orgasmic pleasure as I pumped out my load, shooting the first jet high onto my chest. He was amazed, being more of an oozer himself, saying "That bigger than Anton; that great," and he began again to apply himself to his own, reflated dick, working harder at it this time. When I had recovered I replaced his hand with mine and it was not long before his second orgasm produced another ooze of spunk - not so much this time, but thick and creamy. He groaned with pleasure as he came and the well-toned muscles on his midriff jerked in spasmodic sympathy with the sensations in his dick. It was time for me to leave him to catch up with his sleep and to restore his energy levels for swimming the next day. I left him, lying naked on the bed, a beautiful sight with his lithe, graceful body and his dick now limp and inert. When I got to my own bed I reflected on what I had learned about Anton. I knew that he was Czech but had lived for many years in Indonesia. I judged him to be in his mid-thirties; he was of medium stature and stocky, rather than well built, though not at all fat (except, as Lomi had said, in one exciting respect.) He was bronzed, with short hair, rather ordinary looks and intelligent blue eyes. At first sight he didn't look particularly sexy or attractive but I instinctively reckoned him to be reliable - and a good friend for Lomi to have. If they were lovers - well, good for them ! The next morning when my alarm clock went off at 8.00 I made Lomi a cup of his favourite tea, which he drank black with lots of sugar. I took it to his room with my own cup of coffee and found him awake, with his headphones on listening to music. When he saw me he took them off, gave me a beaming smile and bowed his head over his hands in his customary greeting. He took the cup from me and I sat on the side of his bed while we slowly drank. My hand was not far from his knee and I found that it somehow strayed so that it was resting on his thigh. Again that exciting, dick-stiffening sexual tingle shot through me as I realized that he was enjoying the way my hand was reaching up towards his groin. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the sheet covering his nakedness rise in a shallow bulge and soon I was able to caress it through the sheet. Lomi said nothing - just smiled and finished his tea. Then he threw back the sheet and there again, in the full light of day, was that magnificent, slim, dark body and the shapely dick begging for attention. "Doesn�t it take away energy for swimming if you cum again ?" I asked, but he shook his head and said that he often did it in the morning. Slowly, therefore, I unpeeled his foreskin and moved it smoothly up, down and over his neat glans until with a sigh of contentment he lay back on his pillow, closed his eyes and gave himself over the sensations welling up in his loins. Once again it didn't take long for a bubble of clear pre-cum to bloom white as he fell into the abyss, and he moaned with pleasure as a thick ooze of creamy cum inched out of his adorable dick. "You'd better have a shower" I said when he was limp again. "You won't want Ingrid or Anton to know what you've been up to this morning and the taxi will be here soon to take you to the pool." He grinned and said that Anton only counted the seconds and that Ingrid would be happy because he was meeting her in the hotel that evening. He said he might be back late on that account. After this the next few mornings followed a similar pattern - almost a kind of ritual. I would take Lomi his tea soon after 8.00 am, wearing only a towelling dressing gown and placing his mug of tea and mine of coffee on the table beside his bed before I drew open the curtains. He liked me to open the window too because, coming from the jungle where motorized traffic scarcely existed, he enjoyed the sound of the traffic outside As I turned towards him with the light and the sound of the commuters streaming in, he would bow his head over his clasped hands and smile his morning greeting to me, his hands resting on the sheet above his crotch. Then I would sit on the bed beside him and we would slowly drink from our mugs while I placed my free hand on his thigh and he kept his over his rising dick. Anticipating the thrill of what was to come was itself a thrill and we both loved it. When we had finished our drinks we would place the mugs carefully back on the bedside table and he would throw back the sheet that covered his lean body and move across to allow me to lie beside him. Meanwhile I would have taken off my dressing gown and would take my place beside him, caressing his nipples and slowly letting my fingers descend to his dick. Once they had found it, he always placed his hand over mine to start the stroking rhythm, then took it away, leaned back and closed his eyes. His pre-cum arrived almost immediately and it never took long for him to cum - about a minute, I guess. I could tell when he was close because his ball sac tightened, his balls moved up close to the base of his cock root and he started to breathe faster. Only once did he say anything in his own language when he reached orgasm; and after it was over he would smile, recover a little and then turn his attention to me. He had wonderfully deft fingers. Having a foreskin of his own he knew how sensitive the glans is when the foreskin is rolled back, and he was always extremely sensitive with mine, using my pre-cum as a lubricant to stimulate me. I never did anything to delay my climax, though I was a little slower to cum than he was. He loved the arching trajectory that my first spurt made high in the air before landing on my chest. After I had finished pumping, we would lie still in each other's arms until we knew it was time to wash and dress and be in time for his morning taxi to the baths. On one of the mornings, as I was stroking him and just before his climax I stopped and said mischievously �Does Ingrid do this for you too ?� He smiled and said �Sometimes.� I laughed and asked him what sex with Ingrid was like. He thought for a moment and said �Is good.� Then he took my hand, starting its rhythm on his dick again, and said �You, Andy, you good too.� He smiled again. �She, she more rough when she do this. You � more know-how.� �But normal sex with her ?� �Is good, but I cum too quick for her.� But now his climax was upon him and he fell silent, closing his eyes as orgasm overwhelmed him. When it was over I kissed him for the first time. His lips were soft, willing and hungry for affection. I felt very fond of him. After he had gone I would make his bed, do whatever chores needed doing about the house and see to the shopping. Sometimes I would go to the baths to see how Lomi was getting on and it was on one of these occasions that I fell into conversation with his coach, Anton. He proved very interesting to talk to and, because I knew that Lomi would be spending the evening with Ingrid, I decided to ask him if he would like to have his evening meal at my house. He said he would be delighted and I went back home to prepare for his arrival. He arrived promptly at 7.30 pm, bringing with him a bottle of red wine. As I was not much of a cook I had ordered a pizza, which duly arrived while we were consuming several cans of beer, and we ate it at the table with a salad which I had bought earlier in the day. For a sweet course we had a gateau from the same supermarket. What with the beer and the wine and some whisky after the meal, Anton became quite chatty and told me a lot that I had not previously known about the culture in Lomi's country. Apparently men in the jungle region that Lomi came from were regarded quite normally as being bi-sexual, and he explained to me that this was similar to the ancient Greeks (who gave us the Olympic Games) and the culture of the Florentines around the time of the Renaissance. He said it was a Christian churchy thing for men to repress their interest in other men. When we were really warmed up with alcohol he asked me if I had a girl friend. I was taken by surprise at the suddenness of the question and replied defensively "Not at the moment". A pause followed this admission and then he said "So you take care of your own sexual needs, do you ?" I knew what he meant and replied "Yes - in a manner of speaking." Then I decided to lob the same question at him, knowing well that he had been intimate with Lomi. "How about you ? Do you have local girlfriends in Indonesia ?" He reflected for a moment and then said "Girls in Indonesia can give you unpleasant diseases. I prefer to be in charge of myself." Another pause - and then the confession "Or with Lomi, of course." If he expected me to be surprised, then he must have been disappointed for I said "Yes, I know about that." "You do ? Lomi told you ?" I nodded. "Forgive me for asking" he said, "But have you had sex with him ?" I nodded again. "You see, when I agreed to come over here as his coach and Ingrid said she would sponsor us both, we made a deal that it would be better for us not to continue having sex in case Ingrid found out. She's very possessive, very demanding of him. Did you know that she sometimes asks him to cum two or three times when they're together ? She doesn't know about you and Lomi, I hope ?" "No" I said, "but from what I've seen of Lomi it's not asking a lot of him to cum two or three times. He seems to cum very easily." Anton laughed. "Yes, he does" he said, "I can never get him to delay it." We both looked at each other. We were sitting in armchairs, sipping our whisky and the same thought was in both our minds. Anton spoke first, but it could easily have been me. "Would you be prepared to lie down with me ?" he asked simply, "I would like that very much." "So would I" I replied, and we stood up together, both of us with bulges beginning to show. I led the way upstairs to my bedroom and we stood on either side of my bed, peeling off our clothes. Anton folded his neatly, whereas I threw mine onto the chair next to the bed. I waited to see if he would take off his underpants, but he kept them on, so I did the same. We got onto the bed together and he started to caress me, starting with my hair and then on to my nipples and slowly, oh so slowly, down to the elastic of my pants. He slid his fingers under the elastic tantalizingly close to my rigid cock; then skirting it, caressed the inside of my thigh. I don't think my dick had ever been so stiff in my life. Eventually he said "Lets both take down our pants" and we wriggled them off and threw them onto the floor. Now at last he placed his hand on my throbbing cock, drew my foreskin gently back and massaged the tip with my free-flowing pre-cum. At the same time I looked down into his groin and saw what a wonderful dick he had. Not as long as mine but (as Lomi had said) much thicker. It was uncut and the foreskin looked fairly tight on his broad knob. I put my hand on it and copied what he had done to me by very gently pulling the foreskin down, revealing a red-rose glans of ample dimensions, broader and stubbier than mine. His balls were bigger than Lomi's, and though he lacked Lomi's supple attractiveness, his was a heavyweight sexual apparatus. I was dying to see how it would cum. Meanwhile he was gently rubbing me and I could feel my balls tightening and the orgasm beginning to gather. "Don't cum just yet" he said, and he gently squeezed my knob where the foreskin slotted into place behind the rim. This stopped the gathering orgasm and allowed me to concentrate on what I was doing to him. With his foreskin clipped back (like my own) under the rim of his glans he looked as if he was circumcised. The skin on his shaft was not loose like mine and his shaft was shorter. Nevertheless it was very, very thick and rigid. He murmured in my ear "Do me as I do you" and he started to stroke me with short, slow movements, gradually speeding up as the intensity in my balls returned with the promise of a colossal orgasm. I could feel my dick swelling and contracting, swelling and contracting - and getting bigger and stiffer with each contraction. And his dick in my hand felt just the same. "Cum for me now, Andy" he said in my ear "And I'll cum too." As my spunk gathered for the explosion, I felt his dick pulsate in my hand. We came off together. Because my eyes were closed I didn't see him spurt, but when I opened them there were little pools of sperm on his belly and his fingers, like mine, were wet with himself. "Wonderful" he said, opening his eyes, "That's just how it should be." I could only nod and agree. The feel of his thick dick in my fist had been fantastic, and now it was lying soft and limp in the midst of his matted pubic hair. He turned now, and took me into his strong arms and embraced me. Then he rolled over, retrieved his pants from the floor and started to dress. I continued to lie on the bed, sorry that it was over. But we both knew Lomi would be returning soon and we didn't want him to find us upstairs, so it was better for him to leave now. When he was ready to go we agreed not to tell Lomi about our meeting and I asked him if he would like to come again. "I would like to very much" he said, "But tomorrow I have to have dinner with a business associate. Will the day after tomorrow suit ? I think Lomi will be with Ingrid then because it's the evening before his first heat." "Fine," I said. "Come at about 7.30 and bring a bottle." "Of course" he said, smiling, "And remember to keep some of yourself for me." And with that he opened the door and left. I watched him walk quickly down the street away from my house with mixed feelings. I was like Lomi, really : the same age, and revelling in the new found freedom of my parents being away, having the house to myself and nothing to stop me doing what I liked. A fortnight would bring my parents back, and another six weeks would see me start my last year at University where I had friends who would never suspect that I had had sex with two men in one day. I had had a few sexual encounters with others, men and women, and I didn't feel that it was wrong to experiment in this way, though I confess that the various sexual relationships within the entourage surrounding Lomi and the way he must be reacting to three different people had me baffled. I thought I could cope with two, but three �. ? However it was all very exciting and I found that I was looking forward to the next encounter only about four hours after the last ! The next day, which was the day before Lomi's first heat, the local papers really went to town on his story. They had done an interview with him, Anton and Ingrid the day before. Under the banner headline "JOY FOR JUNGLE BOY LOMI" and with a photo of him and Ingrid hand-in-hand, they told the story I had learned on his first day with me. And how much better I knew him now ! As a swimmer he had been previously unknown but now he was becoming the star attraction of the pool. There was a picture of him, crouched on the starting block in his skull cap and goggles, ready to dive, and the various times (varying by no more than a few tenths of a second) which he had achieved in practice were used to suggest that he could be a medal contender. A sub-headline stated "Could it be GOLD for Lomi ?" Meanwhile, despite my daily morning encounters with him, which meant more to me then than I can easily express, I had to start thinking about my second meeting with Anton. I decided that I would buy chinese takeaway food, a bottle of sherry to start with, and an apple pie with cream from the local baker. The meal went well, partly because Anton hadn't tasted sherry for years, but mainly because there was a kind of suppressed excitement about it. We both knew where we were heading and were enjoying the anticipation. We talked about the jungle culture of Lomi's island and I came to appreciate better than I had before how much sleeping in a bed with sheets and a pillow must mean to him compared with his rough dwelling at home; how convenient it was to have electric lights, cookers and televisions; and how exciting to have cars and motorbikes to get around on. I could see only too easily why Lomi was content to marry Ingrid and thereby place his foot on the ladder of social and economic advancement. It also gave me an opportunity to ask him some questions that I was curious about. I started by asking him what coaches advised their athletes to do about sexual activity before a competition. He thought for a moment and then said that in his opinion most coaches refrained from saying anything at all. "If you say 'Don't do it' too forcefully to a guy, it may have the effect of making him want to do it all the more; and then, if he does, he may feel guilty about it and that will affect his performance more than the sexual energy lost by having an orgasm." "But does it cost an athlete energy to have sex ?" I asked. "It depends on the athlete. Everyone's different. Some of them think it does - in which case it probably does so. Others pooh-pooh the idea - in which case it may have no effect. Lomi's like that. I don't think it affects him at all. And anyway, to be fair to him, whilst it might affect a swimmer who needs stamina, say for the 200 metres, his event, one length of the pool, is a sprint requiring speed, not stamina." The wine, following the sherry, was warming us up and I had no inhibitions in going on to ask him whether he had had sex with lots of young men like Lomi. "Lots ?" he said, questioningly. "No, not lots. But you know, the Indonesian lads don't have any hang-ups about sex with men and they do see their way to riches by tagging onto white people from the West, so I've had lots of opportunities - and ..(smiling) .. I haven't turned all of them down. Some of them have a nick-name for me in their own language : they call me Mr Thick". He laughed. "And are they all like Lomi ? " I asked. "I mean, are they usually about his size ?" "Yes, more or less. Indonesian dicks tend to be smaller - from the little experience I have of European dicks - than ours. They would think of yours as being exceptionally long. Unless they're muslims they're usually uncut - and they do tend to cum very quickly, once they get going." "What about pre-cum ?" I enquired. "I get it, Lomi gets it, but you don't." "Ah, that's different with all the guys I've had anything to do with," he said. "People just are different. I've noticed that Indonesians tend to get it more than us Europeans, but that might just be my limited experience. I don't really know the answer. I do know it's nice to get it and I often wish I did." "And why does Lomi ooze when you and I both spurt when we cum ?" Anton gave this some thought. Finally he said "What you see on the outside of a man's sexual apparatus is only the outside. The penis can be big, thick, slender or small and the balls can hang large and low or be quite small, but it's what you can't see going on inside that determines how the sperm comes out. I don't really know the answer. Many people think the sperm collects in the balls and is ejaculated from there through the end of the penis, but in fact the seminal fluid is collected in a little sac at the base of the penis. The sperm cells, originating in the balls, enter this sac through a narrow passage called the vas deferens and join with the seminal fluid. That's the clear stuff that comes out with people who get pre-cum. When the sac containing the mixed fluid and sperm is emptied at ejaculation (that's what gives us the tightening sensation at orgasm) it passes through the prostate gland and then through the tube in the middle of our dicks. It's a bit like blowing through a narrow pipe. If you blow hard into a narrow pipe you build up pressure inside it. If it's a wide pipe and you blow gently, there's only a little pressure. So, if the tube inside your dick is narrow and the sac contracts strongly, then you'll get a good spurt. If it's wide and the sac, which you can't see but also varies in size from person to person, contracts more softly, then you'll get an ooze. I don't think it makes any difference to the pleasure a man gets when he cums." This gave me a lot to think about so I said it was time to eat the apple pie I had bought. Because it was a rectangular one, a spirit of mischievousness made me cut the first piece into a thick slice, about six inches long, which I offered to Anton, plus a thinner one of eight inches which I gave to myself. Then, to underline the symbolism, I took the cream jug and placed a blob of double cream at the end of each. Anton smiled, leaned forwards, took the knife and cut two smaller, slenderer pieces of about five inches. He placed one by his own six-incher and gave me the other. Then he said "And which one to do you prefer ?" I thought for a moment and then selected the 8-incher, saying "You'll both be gone soon and this is the one I'll have left." He laughed, we ate our pastry dicks, had some more and then I offered him coffee and whisky, both of which he declined, saying we had had enough alcohol and there were better things to do. First, though, we judged it best to clear the dishes, so he washed while I dried and put away. We did this rather hurriedly ! Then, by common consent and without saying anything we made our way to my bedroom. This time, when we undressed, we took everything off and there was not an ounce of shyness as we stood facing each other, our stiff dicks standing proudly, demanding attention. Unfortunately I was so excited, both with the discussion that we had had at table and the satisfaction of at last lying on the bed with him and putting my fist round his fat dick, that I just could not prevent myself from climaxing almost immediately. "I'm sorry" I said, feeling ashamed, "I just couldn't help it ." "It 's OK" he said "It sometimes happens like that when you're very excited and have been waiting for it. Don't worry." He could see that I was a bit upset with myself so he said "Look, when I cum it'll be for you as well as for me - watch!" and he pulled back his foreskin and wrapped his fist low down on the thickest part of his dick. He held it lower than I did and I was able to see the beautiful shape of his broad knob all the time as he gently started to stroke his shaft. Gradually he speeded up, then stopped for a few moments; then started gently again, speeding up and stopping again. My eyes were glued to what he was doing. This was the first time I had ever watched a mature man masturbate and it fascinated me. Then, after the third pause, he said "I'll cum this time - watch !" Gradually he speeded up his stroking until his hand was a blur. "I'm close" he groaned, his breathing short and shallow, then "Here it is �" and my eyes were rewarded with the spectacular sight of his sperm erupting in five or six jets onto his belly. When he had stopped stroking I dipped my fingers in one of the pools of juice and gently rubbed his glans with it. "Aaah �. Aaah " he gasped, poised between intense pleasure and a kind of pain. Then, to stop me doing it any further, he rolled over onto his side and hugged me fiercely, trapping my hand between our two bodies and preventing it from further movement. We lay like that, glued to each other with our mingled juices, for about five minutes, and I was on the edge of sleep, feeling satisfied and not wanting any more, when he said that it was time to move. So we went to the bathroom together, sponged each other down and returned to the bedroom to dress. When he was ready to depart and my hand was poised to open the front door, he gave me a hug, kissed me quickly and said "Thanks, Andy, you're great." "You're great too, Anton" I said, sad to see him go. "I'll see you tomorrow at the baths for the heats." "Yep" he said - and he was off, striding vigorously down the short path from my door to the street and then vanishing in the direction of his hotel, about a mile and a half away. Lomi came back at ten o'clock in a taxi with Ingrid, who kissed him goodnight but stayed in the taxi. He greeted me in his usual, friendly way and went straight upstairs and to the bathroom before going to his bedroom. He looked tired. The next morning, the day of the first two heats, I took his tea in as usual but felt it best not to follow our usual ritual. If he was surprised he didn't show it; and maybe he was glad (like me) to have some respite from sexual activity. He came second in both heats (one in the morning and one in the evening) and advanced to the semi-final round of the competition to be held the following evening.. The next morning, however, we repeated the ritual with all our old feelings of harmony and speed - and he came second again, so I guess his morning orgasm did him no harm. The gap between the first four in both semi-finals was so infinitesimal that we all knew anything could happen in the final. And so the day of the final dawned - and with it Lomi's last day in my house. As usual I took him a cup of sweet black tea to his bedroom, but this time I found him still asleep, his hair and head a dark pool against the white pillow. As I drew open the curtains he woke, stretched and - as I turned towards him - instead of giving me his usual bow of the head, he smiled and opened his arms wide in an invitation for me to come to him. There was a feeling of farewell in the way he did this; and I realized that he, too, knew that this was the last time for us. We had formed a close bond together in the last ten days and these were now almost at an end. After the final at 7.30 pm he was to spend the night at Ingrid's hotel and the next day he was leaving for Norway. How could I resist his invitation ? I sat by him on the bed and we put our arms round each other and stayed like that for a minute or two. Even before I knew it my free hand was feeling its way slowly down his chest, over his midriff and onto the bulge that had grown under the sheet. I had previously thought that if he was to perform well in the final we should abstain from sex on the last morning, so instead of turning the sheet back I said "Don't you think you should remain whole today if you're to swim well in the final ?" He didn't understand, so I rephrased it. "Wouldn't it be a mistake to cum now if you need all your energy for the final tonight ?" He laughed and dismissed the idea by firmly taking my hand, placing it over the sheet covering his groin and saying it was a long time to 7.30. He said it never seemed to tire him. And the excitement and urgency of feeling his erection soon took over and it was not long before I was loving the loose feel of his foreskin and the slipperiness of his pre-cum on his glans. He came first, with that creamy ooze of sperm which had become such a familiar and delightful sight for me. I know he admired the way my spunk spurted but I was sure that his orgasms were just as intense, if less spectacular. I was not long behind and we clasped our bodies together, all sticky/slippery with each other's juice. Parting was painful for both of us. That evening I used the free ticket I had received to attend the several finals that were taking place that evening at the swimming pool. Anton was there, looking tense, and Ingrid was queening it from a nearby seat. When Lomi appeared for the final, he looked so relaxed that I wondered whether his priorities had ever been the swimming, or whether exploring western culture and sex had been top of his list. He received a great cheer when his name was announced, standing up and bowing with his triangulated hands to the spectators on all sides of the pool. I was extraordinarily nervous for him but he seemed unconcerned, even when one of the competitors fell into the water before the hooter and the race had to be restarted. The race itself was over in a flash and flurry of flailing arms and legs. Lomi made his usual smooth start, parting the water as he dived in with scarcely a splash, and the eight swimmers, with just one length of the pool to cover, all seemed to finish at the same time. I was unable to tell who had won and was hoarse from shouting for him. When, after a short delay, he was adjudged have come fifth by just 0.2 of a second, I was disappointed. On the other hand he didn't seem to mind at all. He bowed to Ingrid, he bowed to me and he went over to talk with Anton in his usual relaxed, friendly manner. I wondered whether he might not have been micro seconds faster if he had not had so many orgasms in the past week, and especially the last one - the one we had shared in the morning. On his last morning in England, I went down to the railway station to see them on their way to the ferry they were catching to Bergen. Lomi bowed his head over his hands in his customary greeting but his usually happy and expressive eyes were full of sadness. Anton grasped my hand, thanking me for having looked after Lomi and there was not a glimmer of expression to suggest that anything else had passed between us - just a nod and the faintest extra squeeze of his hand as he withdrew his from mine. Ingrid gave me a perfunctory peck on the cheek, spotting a station porter as she did so and shouting to him to take their baggage to the train. It was Lomi who continued to look at me from the corridor window as the train departed; and it was the memory of his dusky face that I carried back with me to my house. It seemed so large and empty without him that I busied myself with washing first his sheets and then replacing those on my bed with his cleaned ones. Later that evening, after I had had a quiet supper on my own I compensated for my loneliness by going over in my head all the exciting events that had happened in the last few days, imagining the two inches of sperm that had oozed from his dick, thinking about what Anton had told me about this - and making the necessary hand movements to ensure that I enjoyed my imaginings to the full. A fortnight later there was a card from Bergen from Anton to say that the wedding had taken place; and then after a gap of eighteen months a typed letter from him in Indonesia. Dear Andy, I have just returned from a visit to Jarkarta and think you may want to know how Lomi is liking life in the capital of Indonesia. He is well and living in an apartment belonging to the University with Ingrid, who has a job as a lecturer there. He seems happy but then he always likes to greet old friends in his usual affectionate way. To my observation he is more like a houseboy at home than a husband. He is learning to read and write English, but stays at home during the day to prepare meals and do the housework. Sometimes he goes swimming but he is not interested in competition any longer. I don't think marital fidelity is high on either his or her list of priorities and she doesn't intend to have children. He sends you greetings and says he has dreams of lying in the middle between Mr Thick and Mr Long. If he has a hand on each, he says, he will come very quick without us touching him. If you are ever able to visit us in this part of the world you will receive a warm welcome from us both, I think. Come - if you can. Anton