Readers' Submissions

Gay For A Day



Black Pagoda Patpong Bangkok


Warning

The following submission concerns the adventure of a straight male into Bangkok's gay scene. I feel that many readers might not appreciate the content of this submission so if the thoughts of gay adventures is something you're not comfortable with you are best advised to hit the back button and select a different story.

Stick

A note to all readers. Recently the thought of squeezing a guy's dick and seeing the results made me so horny that I had to rape the wife a couple times. She was very pleased with my reborn passion.

I had to do something to get rid of my dull phantasies. I knew I was not suddenly gay – after being happily married for a dozen years and hetero since cradle times. But there was this gnawing feeling of "a chance missed" and also of "rocking macho political correctness". It was like with some nice, long-standing lady friends. There's this latent sexual tension over the years and finally both of you succumb for a night just to get over it. Mission accomplished, happy ever after.

Just bonk a guy once, I thought, to forget the shit.

Gay for a day, not a prob in Bangers where we've been living for over a decade now. When business took me to Silom Road, I made an unusual late evening appointment, complained to the wife about that, held the presentation after dark and after that stepped into a male gogo bar on Patpong. OMG, that was so bizarre it should convert any homo into a militant hetero. Skinny figures in leopard tangas, merely moving to tekkno music. All faces weird, like plastic creatures out of a manga cartoon, or maybe out of a Thai pop video. A fat, oily waiter approached me, mentioned that he knew all the boys for 2 years already and whatever I need, bottom-deep or else (is that a technical term?), he'd recommend the right ass. Naah! I paid the most expensive beer of my life half-finished and fled the scene.

Better some research first. I did not do that in the office or on the home PC, but squeezed in between chatting and chattering Thai students in an internet cafe. Gay Bangkok is well covered online, with reviews, location maps and all. I almost registered at a gay forum to get more info, but then thought hey, I am not gay and I didn't want that commitment, not even anonymously. I resisted the temptation to copy some info onto my USB stick or e-mail it to myself. I did not even print it, but memorized a few interesting places, all relatively upmarket and well away from the Sukh'n'Silom craze.

By then I knew I'd better go to a gay massage parlor. The massage would give some warm-up time which I need anyway, and a chance to evaluate the guy – I could still run away without maximum damage if I felt so.

I parked the car for a fee and wandered around some small sois around 9.30 pm. I was prepared to squeeze a guy's dick 15 minutes later. One of Bangers' best gay massage places should be in this neighborhood. But it didn't turn up. There were a few noodle stalls, karaoke shacks and such, and I do speak/read fluent Thai, but I saw nothing. And I didn't feel like asking a noodles momma for that recommended gay massage parlour. In my searching wandering, I passed one certain noodle outlet at least four or six times, to the stares of the noodle madam, finally glad to find at least back to the car. Cranked up the air-con, steered the vehicle back to my cozy home with a caring wife and two innocent little daughters and thought – phew, lucky, you didn't do it! How could you ever plan!

Two days later I knew I had to try again, otherwise it would gnaw on forever (ok, the wife would love that). I went straight to another gay massage parlour that I knew was easy to find.

Downstairs it looked like a decent mid-range hotel lobby. A few couches, a bar, quite cozy and tasteful actually. I dropped into a couch. And here were the boys, lining up for me, 12 piece high and only 2 meters away! They were all clad in khaki shorts, sneakers and polos. Casual, but pleasant and neat. They all had a nice, open smile. Oh that was welcome. They looked like the apprentice of your local hardware store, or the neighborhood guy who helps the old ladies across the street. Clean, healthy and good-looking, and all those easygoing smiles. Not the least bit weird. I'd say they were all in their early twenties and looked sportier and more solid than average Thai guys. Really, nice as it gets. I was maximally half as scared as expected.

Still I ordered a Heineken to have something to cling to and the papasan sat down with me. He was another easygoing chap in jeans and polo in his mid-thirties, completely "normal" and unobtrusive. He presented the laminated menu. You could order various kinds of massage – herb shrub, oil, cream – for 60 or 90 minutes. I finally booked "cream massage" for 90 minutes, costing 650 baht. He suggested to book a VIP room for 250 baht more, where we would have private shower and toilet; seems that that is not the norm otherwise. I happily agreed to the VIP room, not keen on surprise encounters at the communal shower for economy punters. Maybe a colleague?

And there was another interesting detail: Down on the menu, under the section for the 90 minutes sessions, the manager pointed to a red line and read it out aloud: Minimum tip 700 baht. I had already seen that online a lot, a fixed minimum tip (usually 500).

The dozen male cuties still lined up for me, and they had no number badges. I finally smiled and Asian style pointed at a young chap with an especially easygoing smile and said "we go"? All others immediately folded down their smile and dematerialized while my chosen one nodded happily.

I was not asked to pay beforehand. But just as we entered the steps to the rooms, I suggested to my guy to bring a drink or a snack from the bar. He insisted that he didn't need anything. But walking upstairs, he suddenly jumped at me like a puppy, held my face in his hand, kissing me on the cheek, sniff-sniff – SHUDDER – and trying to kiss my mouth, sniff-sniff – SHUDDER, SHUDDER -, saying thank you, you're so kind in Thai three times. I almost wanted to knock him down – I did NOT come for kissing A GUY, BUAH. I only wanted to bonk.

The room was pleasant enough, again – like the lobby downstairs – halfway tasteful and perfectly clean. He made it very clear to me that we both would need a serious shower. I went first, and thankfully he didn't try to join me. The bathroom was very much ok. It had easily enough space for a soapy massage but there was no airbed and no bathtub.

I returned into our cosy room, wrapped into a towel, and lay down on the huge, comfy bed while he went to shower. Soon I'd hold his dick, and he'd hold mine. I wondered if I'd manage to blow him.

I had expected that at this point I would be completely horrified and maybe call it off here, faking a business phone call or a sudden illness. But I didn't. He still was an easygoing, "normal" chap and what was about to come didn't seem all that frightening.

For my entertainment, he had started to play a DVD with Thai dicks jerking off in close-up. When he came back, wrapped into a towel himself, I told him I didn't need the dicks show, and he? No, he said, and he could put on ladies for a change. I declined those either.

Thankfully he turned the lights real low. He stood besides the bed where I was lying, still in his towel. He looked even better now, decidedly well-trained, with sensual curves in many body details, just shimmering in the darkness. Really a Thai Apollo!

I felt my dick hardening.

Take off and come here, I heard myself whispering. He let his towel down, and I removed mine, and in the hardly lit room there were now two naked guys breathing in expectation, only seeing glimpses of each other's silhouettes. I must say that the sheer novelty and also unacceptability of the situation aroused me. He lay down beside me. I felt no problem at all to wrap my arm around his shoulder and hold him against me. Firm, clean, smooth skin – my pleasure! Hugging up was no problem at all.

Without speaking, his hand moved slowly over my chest and tommy. This felt real good, much more sensitive and less mechanic than some girls would do – if they do it at all. I moved a bit to give his hand more access to the region below my tommy. He got hold of my dick and – suddenly – almost made me explode! Gosh, this innocent guy could pull triggers that no working girl ever tried! Even some of my very best bed partners, including the wife, could learn from him! I felt like bursting down there!

Quickly I made a move to grab his own dongle. That was very short, but with an impressive diameter (not Apollo like). It was fun to stroke him back and see him bend over. I tried various grips that work well on me and quickly had him rocking the bed. I really loved to play him like that.

For five minutes we had a very heated and intense session that was already worth the trip. I knew I couldn't withhold for another two minutes, so I jumped down from the bed and asked how about that cream massage. Haha, the guy obviously wanted to skip the massage and only get rubbed instead. Not so. I spread out on the bed, lay on my tommy and he deliberately sprinkled oily cream and creamy oil all over my legs and ass. He then moved only one or two fingers over my thighs and into my nether area. This again was extremely sensuous and firing, and far more arousing than any expensive hetero massage parlour had ever offered. I had to knee up a bit just to give my monstrously inflating dick some air space. With one or two fingers, he massaged my oily dick, my creamy ass and what not. I can't remember when I was aroused and hard and big like that ever before, not even with the wife who once partly won my by her swell bed jobs.

In the sense of therapeutical massage, nothing to speak of happened. In the sense of sensual massage, it was a sensation in a double sense.

I also felt his dick sliding over my lower thighs, then sliding over my upper thighs and then his dick sliding up and down my assfold. I almost come when I remember it now. I've had horny working girls happily inserting my sticky dick anywhere without a rubber and without me noticing it at first. But I trusted this guy wouldn't be unreasonable, because I also felt the manager downstairs would have given them clear and healthy guidelines. And he didn't do the stupid.

I couldn't keep lying down there in passive agony. I turned around, grabbed his solid handle, dragged him more over me and finally swallowed his dick, handily such a short one. I noticed no special taste, but the feeling in my mouth was nice. (I had never really understood why the wife is so enthusiastic over her blowjobs, but back then I got an idea.) He was very very hard. I blew and massaged his dick while with the other hand I caressed his firm, well rounded, simply utmost pleasant farm fresh ass. Looking back, other than I had expected before I was not at all watching myself, registering any emotion and sensation, making mental notes about what fences I was able to cross heroically. I was simply fully at it and had a whopping good time. So far in our boyish boom boom, there never was a misunderstanding, a misexpectation, nothing that made me giggle or shriek; how many newfound girls deliver like that?

You want condom, he asked? Now that question actually brought me a bit back to earth. In my mental script for that evening, I had planned to inform the manager that I only wanted to play a bit, but certainly no real penetration with a GUY! In my anticipation, I had found that was too dirty – and I had worried it might be too addictive either! I did not want to become hooked on gay skills. But I had long since forgotten my script, the guy simply blew my mind, and that was standing off my body in an alarming angle.

Condom for you and me I said, still unsure what to do next. I expected – but didn't check in the dark – that he had the stark leather condoms required for gay practices. I had wanted to buy some before, but had worried so much that I forget them somewhere in car or trousers that finally I had forgotten about the condoms. Also I had been shy to ask a 7 Eleven guy for "gay condoms". Quickly I had one of his condoms on me, and he wore another.

And then the situation fell apart. We didn't manage to come together, neither way. We failed. Before it could spoil the atmosphere too much I laughed forget it, no problem, and fired my dry, empty condom into the darkness.

Still, the sex mood was broken, but I'd love a pause anyway. I can come only once in such a session, and I was decided to do so only at the end, to get and enjoy as much treatment as possible until then. So I ordered him to lie beside me and he cuddled up like a little boy with his mommy. I placed his hand on my dick, just so to connect a bit more.

I learnt that he's from Buriram. When I asked him if he could do girls too he nodded hesitatingly. Asked which gender he preferred he said 50:50. Between the lines I understood that he's an ordinary straight guy, doing homo jobs out of necessity. I almost wanted to tell him that I don't like guys either. He said that sometimes ladies from Hong Kong require his services. According to him they don't look good because they are already 40+. As I am 50+, by then I knew what he thought of me.

In a sudden, disappointing, but not unheard-of lack of service-mindedness he disconnected from my still desiring dick and started to rub his own. When asked about his behaviour, he said surprisingly he wanted to finish so much. And what about me? I took over for him and gave him a good squeeze until he did a deep sigh and I had to ask him for a tissue. He quickly jumped up and did the cleaning job, after which he lay down again with me and cuddled a bit. With a few admittedly not really subtle gestures I reminded him of something else and he gave me a very knowledgeable, memorable squeeze until I did a deep sigh and he had to jump for the tissues again.

In my fearful anticipations I had worried that at least at this point the situation might get awkward. That, under the sudden hormonal drop-off, I might wake up and realize what I was really doing. Get nausea and see my life in shatters.

Not so. We lay there relaxed, arms around shoulders, just comfortably numb. He was just a nice friendly guy. I thought that this had not been a bad deal at all. Technically, it had been sheer pleasure and fulfilling. And mentally, there was – thankfully – nothing! For once, it was really sex only, no strings attached, no mental aftermath. When with a girl, you'll start to hear about the abusive ex, the kids upcountry (I like the late twentyish much more than young hotties), the ailing mother… I start to think about taking her for dinner, or to Samed. If she happened to be ordinary and disappointing (I can't always avoid it) I feel personally miffed and grotty about myself.

None of that baggage with my boy here. I had unloaded my load, and I would unload the unloader next. Mission accomplished.

I sent him to the shower and deposited 1000 baht next to his khaki shorts that lay on the couch. He came back and when I was just starting to shower myself I heard his surprise noise. He stepped into the bathroom and showed me the 1k baht note. This yours, he asked? Oh, for me? He seemed extremely surprised and the reaction was very different from female masseuses (he had no gentle thank you wai either).

Finally walking out and back downstairs, he wanted to take my hand but I withdrew, ain't holding hands with GUYS. On the lobby sofa there was a grey haired westerner passionately kissing a Thai guy, disgusting. I paid the manager for room and "massage" and the change money came very slowly and in many 20 baht notes as if he expected a tip, but I don't tip managers.

As I stepped back onto the street a guy suddenly hung himself around his neck and started to whisper stuff into my ear. What was that? I think he was the one who'd blown me before, but that had been upstairs and at least 30 minutes ago. Mission accomplished. Yes, sure, I come back I grunted, shook him off my neck and did a runner, towards the car.

Gay for a day. Any regrets? Naw, it was fun and I'm over it. Go back? You crazy. For the time being, I'll stay with the Mrs. Plus another few select LADIES for biodiversity. Complicated as it is, I've gotten used to that mental thing.

I opened the car, cranked up the air-con, nodded at the parking guy. I was looking forward to watching the daughters sleep for a while. Back from my difficult business dinner, the wife would expect me with a relaxing good-night glass of wine. I felt so happy to be able to share it with a real lady. My wife. My family.

Come W. May

Stickman's thoughts:

Completely different to the regular stories here and ok for a one off. I won't be trying that myself, mind you.