A Night in Asian Heaven

In my despair, I drifted back to my home state, to see
my aging parents, family and friends, and best of all,
a new GAM friend who I’d met on the net, and we’d
agreed that we console ourselves with each other’s
company for a week. He kept irreverently referring to
our liaison as the ‘June Bonk’.

We had long discussions into the wee small hours,
(amongst other things) and out of this came the
suggestion – “instead of worrying about early
retirement; why don’t you go and study again, and go to
work in Asia amongst the people you like so much”. From
this acorn of a suggestion, I started making enquiries
the next morning, and could see the oak starting to
sprout. The University said that they only ran post-
graduate courses – go and see someone else. I was
referred around the city, and eventually heard the
suggestion I wanted to hear. “Yes, we run full-time and
part-time courses in your subject. But if you live on
the other side of the country, why don’t you do it
there?”

So I said my farewells to family and my “June Bonk”
(who was a marvellous guy by the way), and started
making enquiries nearer to home. No luck. The course
was only run by one university, and that was 640km
away. I took the bull by the horns, and enrolled – at
some cost. After a short trip to Asia to ‘test the
waters’ and possibly one or two very cute GAMs I met, I
was fully convinced that Asia was the place I wanted to
be in for the next few years.

The study program involved moving home for six months,
finding student ‘digs’, and settling down to a routine
of up to thirteen hours of lectures and teaching per
week, plus assignments, plus plus. I don’t need to
remind you ex-students of the joys of this life. A big
plus was that this city was full of very cute Asians.
In fact whole parts of the city and suburbs were rows
of Asian shops, theatres, restaurants, and more cute
guys… It is soooo nice living in a multicultural
society. .

The big negative was that I am getting on in years, and
I was in a strange new city. There were plenty of G & L
clubs, pubs and restaurants, and my first few weeks
were a continuous round of braving these places,
putting up with the inevitable smoke, and viewing some
very nice guys. It became obvious though, that there
was an over-supply of GWMs and every cute GAM had a
boyfriend very close by. They were a friendly bunch
though, and my night was sometimes made when a cute
Thai lad would give me peck on the cheek – probably
thinking that this silly old bugger needed cheering up.
Why is it that the Thai lads are so adorable and
cheeky. Maybe someone already told them how nice they
are.

So the months wore on, and I took to advertising in our
local Pink Board, an Aussie bulletin board for G&L
folk. Occasionally one would see an advert come in from
the USA or Asia, but it was mainly a local affair. Lots
of guys ‘n gals seeking company, quite a few GAMs
seeking a sugar daddy to help them through their
studies and times of stress. Sometimes my plea for some
company was answered, but they backed off on
discovering my age. Bears don’t seem too popular
amongst many of the GAMs.

However, just to prove me wrong, I had a reply from a
Japanese GAM. He too was feeling lonely, but he liked
older guys and loved hairy chests. We met up, and had
some nice meals and a great night which included a
sauna, a romp and more sauna. We were very clean lads
by night’s end. We met a few more times and then we
drifted apart.

My studies wore on, and I was feeling pretty lonely,
especially as I was surrounded by Asian students in my
digs, and some of these guys were quite active with
their girlfriends, but there were no GAMs that I could
tell. In desperation, I decided to put one more advert
in the Pink Pages, and expected the usual silence.

But to my surprise, a reply came in next day, from a
country to the north of here (it is hardly likely to be
south is it?) No penguin jokes please! This guy was
very interested in older, chubbier, hairy guys and
would I like to reply. Would I ever!

Next came a photo of a cute looking but solidly built
guy. We started off writing. Pages every day – you know
how it is – What do you weigh? How long is yours? Are
you cut? How many different guys? What are your
hobbies?

Tommy was obviously a very experienced youngish guy who
had been seeing other men since he was in his early
teens. He had studied in yet another country, and knew
a lot of GAMs and GWMs there, and left me miles behind
in experience. Our writing was mixed with rather
expensive phone calls (always mine) and before long the
subject of education and the Asian crisis came up. As
most currencies had been devalued five fold, anyone
saving to study overseas was in for a big shock when it
came time to pay for air fares and University fees.

It was tactfully put to me that I might like to assist
a bit to ensure that Tommy could come to Australia. A
big bonus of course was that he would move in with me –
what more could a cold old bear want in the middle of a
southern winter?

Without thinking a great deal, and taking little heed
of an American pen-pal’s warning about getting things
in writing, I trundled off to the bank, and took out a
lump of my retirement fund, and thence off to the
University where I paid the course fee. The copy of the
receipt was obviously faxed north, as an e-mail came in
that night, telling me how absolutely happy everyone
was, now that their son and heir could come here to
study. Not only could he study here, but a house, feed,
company – everything – would be provided. Oh joy , oh
rapture.

I was ‘interviewed’ on a chat line by an older sister,
and deemed satisfactory. Even an Australian e-pal of
Tommy’s e-mailed me with a list of questions. Obviously
I passed muster, as within 48 hours, I was told that a
visa had been issued and Tommy would be on the plane
just a few days later.

I had already moved apartment, and had chosen a place
miles from where I was now working, trying to make ends
meet. But it was convenient to Tommy’s proposed new
University. New furniture was bought, a large fridge,
cupboards, desk, food supplies. I was preparing my lair
for my new cub.

The big day arrived, and there I was, waiting at the
airport. Eventually Tommy emerged from the customs
area, and to my delight, he came over and gave me a big
hug. We took off to a nearby motel room which I had
rented for the night – complete with a nice bubbly spa
bath. We stripped off, enjoyed looking at each other,
then hopped in and scrubbed and soaped each other down,
and lay in the luxury of each other’s arms while the
water bubbled and steamed.

We tried a few good tricks that night, and eventually
woke, having had a memorable first night together. He
had a smallish, bent cock, but we managed to match up
after a few trial runs. A taxi took us to our new
apartment, and we fell into each other’s arms and held
each other tightly. I was so happy – a cute GAM who I
could call my own, and I could help him with his
studies and be a big daddy to him.

**

Sunday we went walking and exploring the district, and
Monday we went over to the University and tidied up
enrollment details and so-on. Sunday night and Monday
night were repeats – plenty of action, lots of
cuddling. I had a twinge of doubt when I asked him once
again that his HIV tests back home were clear. He then
told me that he had never had them, although this was
opposite to what he had said earlier. He was sent off
for tests next day, which luckily were clear. Because
he was very small where the action was, he was unable
to find a condom that would fit him, so we’d been
unprotected.

Tuesday early I had to return to work, and when I got
home that night, I prepared a nice big dinner for the
two of us. But no Tommy. The dinner got cold, I
reheated it and ate mine. Tommy arrived home latish,
having been at the library and gym and had already
eaten. Oh well, good luck to him being so diligent I
thought. I had a good massage and liniment rubbed on a
painful shoulder of mine after a nice hug and a shower
together.

Wednesday was a repeat of Tuesday – late arrival,
already eaten. He didn’t offer to shower with me that
night, and when we climbed into bed, he rolled over on
his side and said he wanted to go to sleep early. I was
a bit miffed, but shrugged it off. Obviously I was
wearing the poor lad out. Next morning I asked if he
was alright, as he was acting differently. He asked me
if I could tell something had changed, I said that it
appeared so, and then he dropped a bombshell – he had
sex the day before with another guy, someone he had
been e-mailing for a long time before we met.

I didn’t mind too much, as we had agreed in our first
letters that he was a randy lad and I could not keep up
with him. Let him vent his excess ‘energy’ elsewhere,
as long as he returned home safely.

Thursday; Tommy did not come home for dinner, but
phoned later in the evening to say he’d met two guys
and was staying overnight with them. That was fine by
me, but the bed seemed awfully lonely. Friday night I
came home, and a note was on the desk. He was going to
a gay disco with some friends and then would stay at
their country cottage over the weekend and he would
call me sometime. I felt left out of things, but there
was nothing I could do. Another lonely night, and the
same again on Sunday. Late Sunday night Tommy arrives
home, happy to have been out in the country-side and
seen some of the wild-life. I suspected nothing, and
was happy that he was meeting new friends.

Monday and Tuesday nights were late nights again. The
poor lad was obviously working out hard in the gym and
in the library. Wednesday I get a phone call at work.
Tommy would be going to a gay disco that night and
might not be home. I didn’t know it, but we had already
spent our last night together in bed.

No sign of Tommy except for another note left on my
desk during the day.

He would be staying with friends over the weekend
again: I was getting really worried, I guess mainly for
my own peace of mind. What was happening to my buddy,
my cub, my companion? I started e-mailing and phoning
around his friends. “Has anyone seen Tommy “? An old e-
pal of his replied and said it was time I had a talk
with Tommy. Eventually the dreaded phone call arrived.
Tommy was at his friend’s country estate, and he told
me he no longer loved me, and would be moving out as
soon as possible. I couldn’t believe it: we had hardly
known each other for more than a few days, and in spite
of all the promises of being faithful to one-another,
let alone a lot of other promises about sticking with
me, I had been dropped like a hot brick!

I just broke down and cried my eyes out. What a baby!
The guy I’d put all my trust, faith and money into, had
found another guy, and would shortly be arriving to
take his things with him. A few hours later, a car
pulled up, and my beloved Tommy emerged. We held each
other tight and my eyes were running. I tried for a
kiss, but was refused. I was told not to get too
intimate. The penny started dropping. I had been right
royally dumped, and the guy standing outside was my
successor. Long live the King! Boy oh boy – was I
pissed off!

So all my hopes and aspirations were shattered as he
walked out the door with his cases. The promise that
the University fees would eventually be repaid fell on
uncomprehending ears.

Over the next few days, I started putting some facts
together. Tommy had been in touch with a lot of guys
before he had ever left his home country. He started
meeting up with some of them almost immediately after
he arrived. The night he went to the gay disco, he met
another guy, and went home with him. This was the
beginning of my end.

Out of the blue an e-mail arrived from Tommy. It was
formal and starchy. He felt that in view of our non-
existent relationship, he should now call me ‘uncle’
whenever he wrote to me. “Uncle!” I ask you! One week
lovers in bed together, the next week bloody ‘uncle’. I
couldn’t puzzle this one out.

**

Next morning I’m walking the final stage of my long
trip to work. The new apartment was so bloody
inconvenient for work – it was nice and close to the
University though. The term ‘uncle’ kept going through
my head. Then it dawned on me. In my desk drawer,
tucked away in a file marked ‘personal’, there was a
letter from an old boyfriend of mine overseas. I had
asked him to come and live and study with me, but he
wasn’t sure. He had replied to say he would love to
come and live with me sometime, as long as I could pay
all the airfares. In the meantime I had decided to
bring Tommy to live and love with me. The letter was
addressed ‘Dear Uncle’! Yep, you guessed it. Someone
had been snooping through the mail, and obviously
though that I was still going to bring my ‘ex’ to come
and live with me.

My next reply to Tommy casually mentioned that I had
received another letter from my ‘ex’ who always called
me uncle and that I had told him that someone else was
already living with me. I’m sure he read between the
lines and knew that I had realised that he had been
going through my mail.

In between my depression, melancholy, tears, an e-mail
had arrived, reminding me that a social for GAMs and
their friends was being held that night. Did I still
want to come? I had no desire to hang around an empty
room so full of unhappiness, so I grabbed a train and
headed into town.

The next stage was to catch a tram out to the
restaurant, a well-know Thai eatery, run by some cute
gays. As I got off the tram, my breath was taken away
by a very handsome Asian lad who stepped off with me,
but to my disappointment, he walked past the entrance
and kept going. Then to my delight, he back-tracked and
was obviously heading up the same stairs as me. I did
the gentlemanly thing, and even commented on how
pleased I was that he was coming inside. I was rewarded
by a smile that melted my heart as I held the door open
for him.

Once inside we chatted awhile, I learned that his name
was Chan. I was overwhelmed by this guy’s good looks,
his English, his cute manners. We had a few drinks
together, mixed a bit with the others, but I kept
gravitating back to Chan, and then we were asked to be
seated for the meal.

I was sorry that he sat amongst a group of other Aussie
men, and I thought that as with most GAMs, he already
had a friend there. The rest of the evening was taken
up by the group at my table. A really pleasant bunch of
guys. Of course I had to sit next to the most gorgeous
Asian guy, with his long black hair neatly tied off in
a bow. We chatted happily throughout the evening, with
occasional interruptions by his 6ft boyfriend – sitting
on the other side of him.

I stole an occasional glance over to the opposite
table, where Chan was happily chatting to the guys
there. He was sooo beautiful, I couldn’t believe it. I
asked around who this cute guy was, and learned that he
was a University student, and did not want to form a
relationship with anyone just yet.

The evening was over all too quickly, and I had a tram
and a train to catch. I said my goodbyes, and said a
special ‘goodnight’ to mister Handsome. Much to my
delight, he rose from the table, and offered to see me
downstairs. Wow – such courtesy! So we went downstairs,
and I mumbled something about hoping I could see him
again, and then he made my night – the whole year in
fact. He reached over and hugged me, and didn’t knock
me to the floor when I kissed him on the ear and told
him how nice he was.

He told me he hoped we could meet again soon, and I was
off to the tram. The evening was full of mixed emotions
– I had been dumped and told I was not suitable for
Tommy, and here I was, hugged by a charming guy telling
me that he hoped we’d meet again.

The next few days were tough ones for me. I phoned one
of the social club members to chat and I just burst
into tears. He could sense I was pretty upset, and said
wisely that I’d get over it. I asked if he had Chan’s
e-mail address, which he did. I sent off an e-mail,
telling Chan how much I had enjoyed seeing him and
hoped we could meet again.

Next day at work, I told the boss I was quitting. I had
passed my Uni exam, and didn’t want to stay in the city
any longer than I had to. I gave notice to my
apartment’s manager, and started advertising all the
things I had just bought. To my joy, Chan replied to my
e-mail, and said he’d love to go out with me one night
soon.

**

The next two weeks took forever to roll on. I worked
off my notice at the office, I had sold most of my
things and was now sleeping on the floor in a sleeping
bag. I was gradually packing everything up, leaving the
computer and phone for the very last. Chan phoned and
we agreed to go out for dinner that night and then a
sauna. I was over the moon at the prospects of seeing
this delightful guy again.

The old bomb of a car I’d bought off a cousin was going
again, and I steeled myself and drove it into the city.
I left in daylight in case anything should happen. It
didn’t, and I had two hours to kill before the guy of
my dreams was due to show up. Then an apparition
appeared, all rugged up against the cold. He had been
ill the previous week, but his smile didn’t show this,
and lit up my heart completely.

We had dinner at a nice little Asian restaurant and
made polite conversation. I had to keep fighting off an
urge to hold his hand or stroke his lovely pale skin
with just the touch of downy hair showing on his arms.
I was hoping that he’d not change his mind about going
to the gay sauna. I hadn’t been there before, even
though it was only a few streets from where I had been
living in student digs, but I didn’t want to go there
solo.

To my great joy, after I had paid the bill, Chan asked
me if I still wanted to go to the sauna – did I ever!
We walked down the street, and I had to keep fighting
this urge to hold his hand. Neither of were out to the
community in general, so we had to be a bit
circumspect.

We walked into the sauna, and I joined up as a member.
Chan was already a member, and he literally took me by
the hand after we had disrobed and changed into towels
only. He guided me up stairs, through various rooms,
some showing gay movies, others drinking coffee, and
past rows of cubicles, a gymnasium, shower rooms, and
finally, a steam room. Chan led me in, and both of us
took off our glasses as they steamed up. Through the
mist I could see some guy come up and stand next to
Chan. He started to move his hands over my new friend,
and I was ready to move in and tell this guy to keep
his hands to himself, but I realised that Chan was
quite capable of looking after himself.

Chan looked a cute demure lad in his street clothes,
but wearing just a towel, I could see that he was well
muscled, and had read his cv on his home page. Self
defence was one if his many talents. When we showered
together, I was further amazed. This guy was one very
cute ball of muscle, and one of his muscles was a very
healthy size! After Tommy’s caterpillar prick, it was
nice to see a normal one again, snugly tucked away in a
bunch of jet black hair.

Chan asked where I’d like to go to next, and of course,
I was aching to get my arms around this beautiful babe,
so suggested we try one of the cubicles. We groped
around in the semi-darkness and eventually found a
cubicle that wasn’t in use and the door actually locked
properly. We went in and laid our towels across the
single bed, and lay down together. We hugged each other
and then we kissed. Wow, I was in heaven. This lad
kissed so nicely, and we both couldn’t get enough. We
kissed eyes, lips, nose, nibbled on ears, I even licked
his armpit which cause him to break up in giggles.

Then I started to work down on him, and started on his
nipples, but every so often, I would move up again to
savour his sweet lips. He was just so beautiful, and
even in the dim light, I could see his lovely Asian
face smiling up at me while I feasted on his ears and
whispered to my love. Chan told me that he wished we
had met six months earlier. If only – it would have
saved a lot of heart break and we could have had a lot
of fun in that time. I started gently licking at his
balls, and entwining my fingers in his lovely black
pubic hair.

Then I worked up his hard shaft, slowly licking my way
to the top, then I slowly lowered my lips over his cock
tip and then swallowed as much as I could. I worked my
tongue around and around his tip, darting my tongue in
and out of his piss hole. I could taste the sweet
saltiness of his pre-cum starting to find its way out,
and I couldn’t get enough . Chan was gently groaning,
and I think I was making him happy. We traded places
for a while, and he sucked me, then we tried a 69
position and we fucked each other’s mouths.

Eventually, the love-making got too much for the both
of us, and I asked Chan if he would like to fuck me. He
slipped on a condom, smeared lubricant all over, and
gently entered me, with my legs in the air. It was such
bliss. The guy I had fallen for in a few short hours
and here he was, slipping his beautiful 6 inch length
into me. I guess I was groaning with pleasure: Chan
certainly was, and he started slipping in and out,
faster and faster.

We changed positions a few times, but ended up in the
legs-up position. Chan was starting to make small
groaning noises, and I could feel him speeding up –
then he gave an almighty loud groan, and shot his load
into me. I was rock hard, and wanting to release my
tension too, but managed to hold on while he pumped
everything into me. We cleaned up and went hand-in-hand
back to the showers where I could admire his beautiful
body again, and I helped him wash down.

I was impatient for more. I love cuddling and kissing,
and Chan was just the guy for me. We found another
room, and moved in and I was given the most delicious
massage. I didn’t ask if this was some ancient Chinese
treatment or not – it was so relaxing, and knowing what
a wonderful guy was doing this, I was again in heaven.
We cuddled and kissed a lot more, and then Chan started
jerking off over me. I helped him along and tweaked his
nipples and sometimes surfaced for a kiss and a hug.
His hand was working up and down his cock faster and
faster. Eventually Chan gave another mighty groan, and
shot his load over me. He hurried to clean up his mess,
but I didn’t care a bit. I was blissful that the guy I
adored had cum twice in one night, in me and on me. It
was so cute.

All too soon, the time came when we had to leave. We
showered once again, while I admired the cutest arse
and cock I have ever seen. I should mention that it was
not only his body and cock that were a pleasure to look
at. Chan had the most beautiful Asian face, and a smile
that went straight to my heart. Maybe I already said
that. He was cute!

I dressed reluctantly and the two of headed out on to
the street. It was midnight, and the happiest five
hours of my life had just occurred. I took a photo of
him and then went up the street a bit in the tram with
my darling Chan, and then sadly watched him fade into
the distance as his tram moved off.

I haven’t seen him since, but his photo came back from
the lab recently, and my heart did a lurch. It was a
great shot, highlighting his charming smile and not
giving a hint of the love, the strength and the charm
that lay beneath. I sent him a copy, and he thanked me
in the nicest way.

Some might call this a one night stand. I call it much
more than that. I call it “my night in heaven”.

Please don’t ask for a scan, ‘cos there isn’t going to
be one! That’s just between me and a wonderful guy.

Post script: Tommy has written at last. He tells me he
has broken up with “J”. I’ve never heard of him. He
left me four weeks ago for a guy called “G”. Now he has
a new address. Is this number four in his fifth week
here? Who knows.

He has more or less apologised for being a rat. Last
week I wrote to the Pink Board people and asked them to
put a warning out for guys who might be as silly as me
and fall for this scam. I know of at least two other
guys my age in this city whose Asian boyfriends are
less than faithful to someone who has put money, love
and time towards getting them here to study, and
ensuring their future.

Now I can understand why my USA friend insisted on a
guarantee that if the guy he was sponsoring should run
out on him, his passport would not be returned and his
green card returned to US immigration. The small matter
of repaying the total fees was also included in the
contract. It seemed tough when I first read of this,
but it is beginning to make a lot of sense now.

The fruit of my studies seems to have paid off, and I
have a job in Asia now. I leave soon, and there are
some cute guys who I’ve met before, and they are keen
to see me, and not just my wallet. I’ll be on local
pay, so the wallet won’t have much in it anyway. I know
these guys are more interested in true friendship and
love than trying to immigrate and study overseas.

Time will tell. In the meantime, Chan stands like a
beacon in my memory.

Who says East is East and West is West, and the twain
shall never meet?