Story Post - Second Part 'The Stranger and I'

His touch made me smile knowingly in spite of myself; he saw in me what I saw in him. It would only be a matter of time – and a ride in the lift – before both hands could be everywhere. I breathed out, preparing whatever nonchalant words were going to be the first he’d hear. But…wait. Before I’d finished exhaling I felt something else. An odd shiver was surging through my body. I stared forward into space knowing that something was very wrong. I’d felt this hand before, the same tightening grip and cold palm. I stood up and turned, now knowing what was to come.

Tuk stood before me with an expression that was halfway between friendly and hateful. We had known each other no longer than a month and he still baffled me with his persistence and forthrightness. Why was he here ruining what may have been such a perfect moment? Who was I kidding. As the stranger joined the counter girls to look on with interest, the dream of meeting someone gorgeous and sane had clearly been too much to hope for. Tuk continued to regard me and I knew I’d better speak. “What are you doing?” I ventured quietly. “Go to room.” The statement was not only loud but also clear. All present knew that this boyishly good-looking Thai guy wanted me all to himself. He was wearing the same clothes I’d first seen him in at a bar some time ago. The oversized t-shirt, hanging jeans, and torn trainers had proved to suit him much better off than on for under them was the perfect slim body of a twenty-something Asian. This, along with his preference to forego speaking broken English and let his actions speak for him had once been such a turn-on. Now, his declarations of love and inability to understand that a relationship was out of the question had made him decidedly creepy. He motioned his head that we should go. He meant business.

I couldn’t help but look back at what I’d stupidly thought was a possibility. There was so much more I wanted to know about the stranger, so comfortable in his own skin as he now leant back on the counter. I met his eyes this time feeling no embarrassment; as I’d been so obviously ‘outed’ it hardly mattered. He smiled amusedly to himself then gave a quick wink before he disappeared from view as we rounded the corner and stepped out into the evening heat. Was that meant as the rebuke of a straight man against the girlish melodrama of a couple of ‘fairies’? Was that a knowing wink? I didn’t have anymore time to wonder as Tuk made another grab for my shoulder. This time I angrily shrugged him off, knowing that right now I had to be assertive and definitively end things. I walked him around into a corner of a small garden where I knew we’d be out of sight and away from curious ears.

I wanted to make this as easy as possible. After a minute of stumbling through the little Thai words I knew, and a lot of gesturing to assure him things were over, I believed all was sorted. I was wrong. Tuk looked at first contemplative and then lowered his head as I made to finish speaking. I took a step back ready to leave him and as I did several things seemed to happen at once. Firstly Tuk lunged forward and threw his weight against me. Unprepared, I fell hard onto the grass behind me. In a second he was standing above me and I felt a sharp kick hit my lower back. There was another to my ribs. Another to my elbow. I saw his face contort with rage though he remained quite silent. Where were the hotel security men? When would he stop so I could stand up and defend myself? I didn’t need to answer either question. As quickly as it had started, the beating was over. Tuk had gone. From my position on the ground I turned painfully to see him dash away in the direction of his motorbike. What happened? My body jolted as I felt another hand on my shoulder. My heart racing I squinted to look up towards the moonlight. A newly familiar face was looking down at me, concern showing in the brown eyes that peered through hanging curls of hair.

I hated being so out of control and lying vulnerably in the grass was hardly how I wanted this most masculine of men to see me. I moved to break free of his grasp, pull myself up, and thank him. But instead of releasing his hold or helping, the stranger moved his bulk further over me until I realized his body was coming to rest on top of mine. Did he think I was seriously hurt and he needed to support my back as he rescued me? Was he going to teach the queer a lesson? Somehow I knew it wasn’t either. I lay still unresisting. As the warmth of his skin tingled against my bruises and he rested his weight slowly down on me I could feel him hard, his cock aroused against mine. I struggled to catch my breath and I felt beads of sweat over every part of me. All I could see was him. My vision was filled with that rugged face. He didn’t smile. He didn’t speak. He looked deep into my eyes.

Hidden in the unlit patch of grass to the side of the window where staff had no doubt gathered to look into the night and enjoy the drama with the crazy foreigners, we held each other tight. Our mind’s were as one. Our hands and tongues began to wander…


THE END (MAYBE*)

* 'Maybe' is owing to sad fact that it has been so long since the writer last experienced what may be described in any next part that the memory cannot recall descriptive details for the writing. Please bear with us until this problem is fixed.

Story Post – First Part 'The Stranger and I'

He was older than me, that’s what I noticed first, probably not too far into his late twenties, but enough that the creases in his tanned face were starting to frame the eyes and disturb the smoothness of his forehead. Not that it didn’t suit him; his relaxed rugged expression showed little sign of worry or the impatience usually found on arriving after travel to find staff so ill-prepared. If anything he seemed as though he shrugged off mundane troubles like he flicked away his cigarette ash. His dreamily casual air had caught the attention of all present and as he turned to check his reflection in the wall mirror yet more curious staff hurried into the lobby to see for themselves the night visitor who had journeyed so far. They joined me in surveying his broad chest and solid shoulders under a creased black Gap t-shirt. They held back as he turned from his bags and the counter. I instinctively checked my wristwatch before peering hesitantly again.

This man was light of step but in a very masculine way and I wondered if he might play some kind of field sport. As he turned to the mirror I regarded his firm buttocks, no doubt held in place by some tight white CK’s. He lifted up a hairy arm and wiped a bead of perspiration from his brow. He did this with an easy movement so the sweat caught his muscled forearm and his wide palm brushed over the skin. If he’d had a bottle of water to drench his messy curls it’d perfectly complete the sportsman look, him languidly rinsing the dirt from his skin. When he moved his free hand to pat down some wayward dark hair I saw him smile amusedly to himself, and his eyes squinted slightly as he did so. As he regarded his face just a little bit closer he buried his hands in the pockets of his faded Levi’s, stood back on his heels for a moment, then whirled around to face me.

For just a second his fox-like brown eyes met mine and a second later mine were pressing hard into the wood of the computer desk. I breathed out and closed my eyes embarrassedly. It was force of habit for me to notice attractive guys, and more so for me to survey their chests, their arms, but especially their buttocks. I could appreciate the looks of many but this guy had made me look much closer. I had been enjoying the view and had stared unguardedly. I hated nothing more than social embarrassment and he must have seen me staring like some schoolgirl.

I dejectedly opened my eyes, cursing myself, but dared to look back up. What was it that now caused the counter girls to giggle so unashamedly? I listened for his voice; he was probably flirting without even trying. I drew my gaze up to see the window straight ahead and I tried to make out the reflected scene behind me. It was then that I felt a warm hand heavy on my right shoulder…


TO BE CONTINUED