As the credits of the last episode of whatever show it was rolled, Harrison realized he hadn’t been paying attention to any of it at all. He glanced at the time—barely ten o’clock.
He looked out the window—even the lights on the basketball court downstairs had gone out, even though a lone figure was still practicing his shots in the dark.
It was time to wind down, thought Harrison, as a thin veil of melancholy settled over him. He’d just take a shower and go to bed…
Yes, he now showered before bedtime instead of in the morning, a habit taken up after three and half years in Hong Kong, like the locals did. He stripped down completely, threw everything into the washing machine, stepped in front of the backlit, three-paneled mirror in the bathroom, and did a double take—
What a body… if he might say so himself… even though all he did for exercise these days was swimming every other week. He had given up running, ironically, for years of training on the tracks in his college days had made him rather sick of it, but damn if those years had not left their mark: a broad vein snaked down his right shoulder and biceps, framing the compact slabs he had for pecs… His curiously asymmetrical seven-pack was still there after all this time, the middle gullet leading right down to the untrimmed bush from which his serpentine, circumcised cock dangled limply…
He couldn’t resist the thought that someone other than himself needed to bear witness to all this foreign manliness transplanted from across the world… He had moved here from Tennessee after retiring as a pro athlete. Being selected for two World Championships and one Olympics, even if he’d never medalled, was not a shabby résumé and he could’ve easily gotten a coaching job, at a university somewhere—but that would be tragic.
Instead, he went back to school, Stanford, to finish that product design degree and found a job with a Danish boutique with an operation in Hong Kong, so off to Asia he went. He’d been with Ethan, his current boyfriend, for a year and a half. Ethan had steadfastly refused to open up the relationship like every gay Harrison ever knew had done… because, Harrison suspected, Ethan knew a guy like Harrison would have too much fun in a town like Hong Kong…
Except now Ethan had flown off to Paris, leaving Harrison alone in the apartment Ethan’s father had bought—had, unimaginably, paid for in full with no mortgage. What an inconsiderate boy… He knew that Harrison would’ve gladly come along if he were to propose a vacation somewhere in Southeast Asia, where the boys were tan and sweaty and small… Harrison wouldn’t have been able to have one, but at least he’d be able to look and fantasize…
Along with this train of thought, something unnamable but akin to frustration, and jealousy, coiled up tightly in Harrison’s lower abdomen… He gave his soft, deprived cock a few coaxing tugs, and the thing responded in earnest—lengthening and stiffening, until it lifted off to confront Harrison with the sight of his plump, blushing nut sac underneath… God, he had forgotten how many days it had been… and with each passing day, increasingly bad ideas popped into Harrison’s head…
Tonight was the night, then—he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t a hot-blooded young buck with needs anymore… He grabbed his phone, took a picture in the mirror of his rippling torso, the frame cropped right above his lips for anonymity, and downloaded—re-downloaded—Grindr…
He wasn’t expecting much—that app could be a slush pool of untouchables—but he still held out a glimmer of hope as he scrolled.
And who was that? The cutest little twink with the kind of banging rack that Ethan could have if he were just to work out a bit harder—Harrison actually wouldn’t mind training him. He really wouldn’t…
“Made in [Hong Kong flag]; packaged in [Canadian flag],” the twink’s profile read…
This was the one… Harrison thought, for once these Asian boys had been abroad and tasted white meat, few of them ever looked back upon their hairless, badly endowed compatriots. Sorry to all the striving Asian tops out there but this one was Harrison’s to take, and he was 1500 feet away… Goodness…
“Hey”
Harrison wrote simply.
The reply was near-instant, and the negotiation swift—a few pics exchanged and they’d both decided they were just what each other needed, as if Harrison had any doubt about the effect he had on the local population of hungry bottoms…
Location sent, received, and the boy was at Harrison’s—sorry, Ethan’s, technically Ethan’s dad’s but now Harrison’s and Ethan’s—doorstep in a matter of minutes.
“Hey,” parroted Harrison his own pickup line, if one could even call it that, but that was all Harrison ever needed.
“Hey,” the boy greeted him back, his voice deeper than Harrison had expected, albeit with that faggot-y trill that made Harrison felt like such a straight-acting dude’s dude. The fact that the boy was more than a full head shorter than Harrison deepened his sense of entitlement—it wasn’t the boy’s fault, for Harrison was an imposing six-foot-four… Not that the boy wasn’t cream of the crop for an Asian, but in the marketplace for such things, a tall white muscle stud like Harrison was as close as it got to the real deal… It was the kind of truth that no one ever wanted to lay bare but most people knew to hold.
“You want some water or anything?” Harrison asked—he hadn’t done this since he’d been with Ethan, inviting cute strangers into his home, so he wanted to play nice for a second, inviting the boy to sit down on the couch next to him, and deciding to gently coax the slut out of him in a longish session… My, oh my… Harrison could hardly wait.
“No, I’m good,” the boy replied, practically could not take his eyes off Harrison—he himself had great bone structure for an Asian, with thick black eyebrows, wide bright eyes, and a tiny, droopy mouth… It was the most pleasant change of pace from the delicate, slightly feminine features of Ethan… Harrison had to tell himself to pipe down and not take the boy and wreck him right then and there… Jesus…
“You’re really cute,” Harrison declared with a wide, reassuring smile that showed off his American teeth, not overly whitened but straight as piano keys from braces between the ages of eleven and eighteen—that was what should be his country’s greatest export, the all-American obsession with dental upkeep…
“Thanks…” The boy practically blushed, and it made Harrison’s pulse race like a beast about to pounce.
He merely leaned in, and the boy gravitated towards him like this chance encounter was long in the making… From then on it was Harrison’s charge to take, for the boy really stood no chance, squirming and moaning coyly as Harrison put his full weight on him… Clothes, the boy’s and only the boy’s, flew off and was discarded onto the floor…
“You’re so fucking sexy…” Harrison breathed the words directly into the boy’s ear as he ran his hand all over the boy’s miniature, chiseled statue of a physique, just as his pictures had advertised, so it must’ve been Harrison’s lucky day… The boy, in response, arched his back in such a fuck-ready way so that there was only one thing left for Harrison to do.
“You wanna head in?” Harrison asked as he ran the back of one index finger down the boy’s cheek—the way he did to Ethan the first time they met, in an encounter just like this, on this exact couch, back when he was still with Jeff, his first boyfriend after coming to Hong Kong…
The boy currently on the couch, whose name Harrison didn’t ask and was never going to ask—nodded sincerely, thirstily… He wanted all of Harrison and whatever he was going to do to him, just like Ethan before him, and just like Jeff before Ethan…
With almost too much ease, Harrison slung the nameless boy over his shoulder like a potato sack, inducing the boy to wince once in surprised delight, and headed for the bedroom he shared with Ethan—when he was not sauntering around fucking Paris…
Once there, Harrison flung the boy down onto the bed and began to undress—slowly, ceremoniously, as the boy watched first with admiration, then something bordering on envy, and finally just unadulterated lust for Harrison’s hardened, foreign male body… Harrison’s cock, of course, was at its fully erect glory… In fact, he supposed it had been in that state since he first stripped off in front of the mirror and decided he needed to be worshipped by someone who knew their place…
He straddled the boy, who in turn was paralyzed and agog and completely in thrall to Harrison, and brought his majestic, domed ivory tusk of a cock right up against the boy’s—melanin-laden and uncut, decently sized for an Asian but still a pathetic dicklet in the grander scheme of world cocks, so good thing he found his calling as a bottom slut so that he didn’t have to use that excuse of a thing for “fucking”…
Harrison didn’t say any of that out loud, surely, for he wasn’t cruel, but it was all swirling in his gaze down at the boy, who in turn stared back up at Harrison, all-knowingly, so Harrison merely nodded, might even have broken into a crooked smirk, as the boy scooted down without having to be told, and commenced sucking—
As averse as Ethan was to being pile-driven in the ass, the guy was a world-class cocksucker, for why else would Harrison have overlooked that glaring caveat to settle down with him? Supposedly, the bachelor pad that Harrison had since intruded upon was partially decisive as well, but that was a matter for a different discussion…
As such, Harrison allowed his boy of the night to struggle to gobble up his mighty seven-and-a-half-incher for a minute or two, for sometimes you needed to play along, before asking—
“You ok?”
The boy gagged, and sniffled with teary eyes, and choked out: “Fuck, it’s big…”
“You think you can take it up your ass?”
“Yeah, I think so…” The boy affirmed, smiling so innocently, seemingly unaware of what was coming for him… Boy, oh boy…
Harrison’s smirk bloomed into a grin, and wordlessly, he gave a nonchalant twirl of his index finger to indicate “flip,” and the boy did, proffering up the pert, unblemished mounds of flesh that were his buttocks. Harrison spread them wide and dove right in, finding the boy’s pucker to be surprisingly hairy but miraculously odorless—was this why Harrison had developed a penchant early on, even when he was still living in the States, for Asian bottoms, for when it came down to it, they were but squeaky-clean silicone fuck-toys with self-regulated body temperature?
“Uh!” The boy emitted a sort of high-pitched Chihuahua-like yelp as Harrison tongued his sphincter, which shied away at first, but gradually opened up to Harrison’s insistent probing, until Harrison deemed the hole, and the boy, ready—
“Oh, I’m gonna fuck you so hard…” It felt so good to utter those words, finally, after a year and a half… He found the anal lube that he usually fingered Ethan with—yes, what a goddamn tease Harrison had chosen to shack up with… Loved being fingered but wouldn’t let Harrison fuck him… Bull-fucking-shit…
But Harrison was about to get what had been deprived of him with such audacity: he drizzled an obscene amount, almost half a bottle, of the slippery stuff right down the boy’s crack, and rubbed his cock repeatedly over it, churning the stuff into white butter…
“Don’t tease me…” The boy gasped, craning his neck back to meet Harrison’s gaze.
This was the hungry dick hound that he deserved, Harrison thought, except no meant yes at that point and Harrison pushed in just the tip and popped it back out with a nasty, sucking pop—
“Oh!” The boy whimpered.
“Yeah, you want that in there?” Harrison taunted him.
“Yes, please… give it to me…” The boy egged Harrison on—practically begging him—over his shoulder.
“Fuck back into it…” Harrison commanded coolly, hands on his tapered waist, not doing a thing. “Show me what you got, boy…”
The boy was nothing if not game—leading Harrison to believe this was the best decision he’d made in a long while. With the boy on his knees by the edge of the bed, Harrison had to squat a little to meet him at the right level. Apart from that, though, the boy took over from there like a champ, reached back with one hand to guide Harrison’s bona fide meat train of a cock to its tunnel opening, and began pushing back—
“Ugh…”
Both top and bottom let out a groan as the head started to muscle its way in, and once they got past the fleshy rim of the dome, the shaft slide-slammed right in to the hilt, thanks no less to Harrison’s previous, overzealous attempt at lubrication.
“Fuck…”
Harrison grunted, scowling, as he watched the boy bounce his ass rhythmically back and forth in long, confident strokes, milking Harrison’s full length with his constrictive body heat, and leaving a snail trail of frothy lube all over the shaft, even matting up Harrison’s wild bush… It was plain nasty, and Harrison loved it… Why couldn’t Ethan do him like that, even just once? When they spoke of sacrifices in a relationship, did Harrison realize they meant giving up the right to use what he owned?
The constant specter of Ethan at the back of Harrison’s head was beginning to rile him up. Damn that dude for having such a pull on him even while he was halfway around the globe… He was just supposed to be a random fling and nothing more… How had Harrison moved the fuck in and became committed? Oh, maybe because Ethan had self-respect, and refused to let Harrison treat him like a common whore whenever he got too horny to think straight, like right now…
Harrison ran his fingers through the nameless boy’s hair—a bit shorter than Ethan’s, but still graspable—and hissed:
“You like bouncing on this dick, hmm?”
The boy was turned away from him, so he really could be whoever Harrison wanted him to be, as he moaned, “Yes, sir…”
“Yeah, you like this big white cock inside you? Inside your tiny little Asian ass?”
“I love it!”
That about did it for Harrison… He clamped one hand down on each of the boy’s ass cheeks to stop him from moving any further—and fucked him. It was an athletic burst of quick, short thrusts and made the boy whine and sob like the shameless little bitch he was, except at that moment, Harrison imagined the shameless little bitch to be Ethan, who would never degrade himself by letting Harrison talk nasty to him like this, if fucking only…
“Shit!”
Cold sweat rained down upon the unnamed bottom’s porn-star-perfect back arch, as Harrison emptied his spunk, frustration, and guilt in five powerful squirts deep within the anonymous, use-once ass. As Harrison withdrew his rapidly flagging erection from the stretched, swollen orifice, his creamy-white load followed, splatting onto the hardwood bedroom floor that Ethan always liked to keep spotless, its ghostly translucence a memento of Harrison’s deepest shame…
“So, where are you from?” The boy asked while getting dressed again, no doubt hopeful this was going to turn into something else… Not Ethan, who never asked him these boring questions after he gave Harrison the best blowjob of his life right on the edge of this very same bed… Instead, it was Harrison who asked him boring questions, even after he came—twice—down his throat… and even texted him afterwards…
“The US…” Harrison answered curtly, over playing gentleman.
“Yeah, I can tell from the accent…”
What a smug fucking thing to say? What if Harrison were from, let’s say, Toronto? Stupid fucking boy…
If the boy ever texted him “It was nice meeting you” or some similar drivel afterwards, Harrison would have no way of knowing, for he deleted the app the second the boy stepped out the door.
That was when he realized Ethan hadn’t texted him for two days. How was Paris? Harrison wondered. Maybe he shouldn’t have been such an uncultured American oaf and gone there with him…
He looked at the last thing Ethan sent him—a selfie on the sun-drenched bank of the Seine.
It brought a smile to Harrison’s face…
“Hey, what are you doing?” He texted.
He waited, and after a about a minute or two, the typing bubble appeared, and Harrison’s heart leapt—with fuzzy teenage anticipation, in what his boyfriend was going to say in response.
