Foreign Fluid Exchange

It was a cool, damp afternoon in May in midtown Manhattan. I had just come out of the Actors Fund where I was at a jobs seminar. I’m an out of work actor trying to transition into some more stable trade. In the meantime, I am the best damn waiter in New York City between West 44th and West 48th Streets!  Where do I work?  Oh, you’ll know me, the tall, 30 something, good-looking guy with brown hair, blue eyes, in the white shirt, black pants, white apron.

I was on my way home to my tiny studio in Manhattan Plaza to take a nap before my evening shift at the restaurant. It was a wet gray day in the great gray city and midtown tourist crowds were dressed in gray sweats with gray hoodies and gray backpacks.  The skies opened up and poured down on us. 

I was standing on the corner of Broadway and 46th Street waiting for the light to change, pissed that I didn’t bring my umbrella as the rain thickened. In front of me were two small slender young Asian men, safe under a big red umbrella. They had on red windbreakers and tight red sweats. I admired their small, round gorgeous butts and imagined what I might do with them if and when I was warm and dry. They must have felt the heat of my gaze because they both turned and smiled at me, big sunny smiles and one of them said, “Raining!” I noticed that they both had semi-boners that grazed against their sweats. Either they were really glad to be in New York City or really glad to see me.

They offered me a spot under their big umbrella, which I declined until one of them whipped out another smaller red umbrella and got under it.  They were both around 5’6, with thick floppy hair and delicate faces with full lips. It was just nice to be bookended by two very pretty boys. We ducked into the covered walkway between 46th and 45th Streets and folded the umbrellas. We kept tight formation as if we were still avoiding raindrops. I enjoyed feeling their sweet breath on either side of me.

“Thank you!” I said.

“You are most welcome,” the slightly taller one said. He bowed, then offered his hand.

“I am Chang. Chang Wei. It is good to meet you.” He had delicate features and twinkling eyes. I detected a slight English accent.

“Hello Chang. I am Carlos. Carlos Quinn.” We shook hands. His small hand was a rough and calloused, like a workman.

“Hello Carlos Carlos. This is my associate, Quan,” he introduced his partner who had sweet sad eyes and a snub nose. Quan did a little bow and held out his hand. It was rough too.

 “Hello Mr. Carlos Carlos,” His voice was deeper. I didn’t mind being Mr. Carlos Carlos for now.

“He is Quan Woo,” Chang said. “And he is happy to meet you too.”

The little tents in their sweats were a little more pitched and I was a happy camper with a growing tent of my own.

“Are you Chinese?” I asked. I had a gig as an usher at a Chinese film festival and I came to admire Chinese men, their gruff, indefinable sexiness.

“Yes. How did you know?” Chang said.

“I like Chinese films, “I said. “Do you know Swordsman in Double Flag Town?”

“No. I do not.”

“I am Chinese too!” Quan blurted.

“Is this your first time in New York?” I asked.

“Yes. It is very exciting!” Chang said. “We love it!”

“Are you visiting any other part of the country?”

“Yes. Chicago. Austin. Las Vegas and Los Angeles. We are on a tour!”

“Welcome to our city!” I said. “What kind of tour?”

“It is a circus tour! The China Family Traveling Circus! We do juggling and acrobatics!” Chang handed Quan his umbrella and backpack and did a backflip and then a cartwheel. Onlookers cheered and Chang took a bow. Then Quan, not to be outdone, did three somersaults and ended with a backflip and a bow.  Neither one of them was winded. A German tourist tried to give Quan a dollar.

“Wow!” I said, “That deserves something, a toast, a kiss a…well-- something!” I got a flash of myself as a Pommet Horse and Chang and Quan diving over, under and on me.

“Blue big eyes,” Quan said softly. “I like.”

“Thanks,” I said, trying to make my eyes bluer and bigger.

“I’d like to know more about you and the circus,” I said. “Let’s find a place where we can get coffee or tea and talk some more.

“Yes. That would be nice,” Chang said. “We are not on call today or tonight. We would invite you to our hotel right now but the whole company is there and visitors are forbidden,” Chang said.

“Forbidden?” I said. I didn’t expect to hear that old world word in the 21st century.

“Oh yes,” Chang said and Quan nodded. I wanted to kiss both of them.

“Yes, “Chang said. “We are gay. And we are watched closely. It is legal to be gay in China but it still is not good.”

“Why, baby?” I blurted and then said, “Sorry.”

“That is OK. I like baby” He smiled and then got serious. “In China there is the one child policy. If you have one boy and he is gay, then your parents will not have grandchildren. So you keep quiet.” Chang sighed.  “Quan and I are both supposed to marry nice girls back home when we return.”

“Yes,” Quan murmured and made a sad face.

Chang shrugged, “And because we are acrobats we have more pressure from everybody. We are heroes to our families and watched by the officials. I have been training as an acrobat since I was six years old,” Chang said.

Me too!” Quan said. “From six years!”

“His English is very limited,” Chang said and patted his friend’s head. “He is from a remote province, Qinghai. You know, what you call ‘the sticks’.  Me, I am from Shanghai!”

It was still raining hard and I knew every cheap place we could go would be jammed. My place was a mess but a just a few blocks away and maybe, just maybe I could steal a kiss from one or both of these built beauties.

We walked there in the red umbrella tight formation and remained in tight formation in the lobby and on the elevator.  There was a Tony nominated perennial 50 year old chorus boy (and legendary deep throater) in the car with us but I suspected my new friends didn’t read Playbill.com so they wouldn’t appreciate the sheer volume of Ham in the elevator or the rest of Manhattan Plaza.

My studio is on the 37th floor, with an impressive eastward view of Manhattan that distracted from the mess I’d left behind that morning, socks, underwear and Bridger Watts, big and hard as my computer screensaver.

As soon as we entered they ran to the window. I joined them pointing out the landmarks, The Empire State building, The UN, The Chrysler Building. They took pictures with their cell phones and chattered excitedly in Chinese.

“Would you like some tea?” I asked. “I have Lemon Zinger and Peppermint.

“Lemon!” They said together.

“Please make yourselves comfortable,” I said. “Give me your jackets and backpacks.”

I put their jackets on hangers and left their backpacks nearby. I went into my kitchen alcove and enjoyed the sound of their excited voices, as I imagined, they pointed out landmarks. When the tea was ready I put the steaming mugs on a tray and added a plate of shortbread cookies, you know, a proper English Midtown tea. I realized it was now quiet in the next room.

When I walked in Chang was at the window, dreamily staring at Manhattan. All he had on was a red Andrew Christian jock that lovingly cupped his round ass. His back was a canvas of intricate musculature that rippled with a life of its own.

Quan sat cross-legged on my bed wearing only white Jockey boxer briefs that outlined his fat cock.  His face was buried in one of my dirty white gym socks. “Big man,” he sighed, happily.

They sure knew how to get comfortable.

I cleared my throat. They both looked at me and smiled. Hmm. Maybe I could steal a kiss or two. Or three. I set the tray down on my coffee/dinner table and came up behind Chang.

“You okay, baby?” I whispered in his ear.

“Oh yes. It is all so beautiful.” I looked out at the view that I had come to take for granted, that I sometimes found oppressive. Manhattan did look beautiful on this rainy day through the eyes of a beautiful stranger.  I pulled Chang closer to me, nuzzled his neck and felt the heat from his butt crack. He turned and his sweet boner poked at his jock. He kissed my forehead, my nose, my cheeks, sweet, small kisses before he landed on my lips and locked on, gently breathing into my mouth. 

I pulled Chang’s jock down and cupped his firm, meaty ass. He deftly wriggled the jock off and kicked it across the room without breaking his lock on my lips.

Quan watched us as he got oxygen from my dirty sock. Then he crawled across the bed and landed on the floor at our feet. He unlaced my sneakers, slipped them off me, and stuck his face in them.

“Nice, big man.” He pulled off my socks and held them on either side of his beautiful little face while he kissed my feet. He stood and tried to pry his way into Chang’s kissing machine but Chang wouldn’t budge so Quan kissed my cheeks, my ears, my arms and hands.  He undid my belt and pulled my jeans down and gasped that I had no underwear on and that my cock sprang up and almost made a “boing!” sound.  He wrapped his small, callused hand around it and made the big head even bigger.

“Such big man,” he said.

 Quan put the head of my cock in his sweet little mouth and just kept it there while he groped my tight balls. He hummed or grunted with happiness as he squatted and the vibrations felt good on my stiff bone.

Chang’s slender, muscular body felt warm and smooth as it dug into mine. His pretty cock pressed against my leg, leaked excited boy juice and his straight pubic hair crackled against my leg. I ran a finger between his taut butt cheeks to his tiny fuck hole. The few hairs around it crackled at my touch.

I started edging our steamy trio toward the bed so we could all get better grips on each other. I popped my cock out of Quan’s mouth. He gasped and grabbed it with his little hand. I nudged Chang away momentarily, lifted Quan and, taking their hands, walked the few steps toward the unmade bed. I put my arms around Chang, picked him up and threw him on the bed face up. I got on top of him and worked my way down his taut body, little ears, long neck, the perky nipples on his chiseled chest, his lean washboard abs. When I got to his pubic hair, I inhaled deeply. It smelled like new mown grass and it crackled against my stubble.

“Hmm, I said. “You smell so good, like fresh cut grass.”

“I drink Wheat Grass juice every day!” he said, proudly.

“Good for you!” I said as I as took his pretty, stiff cock in my mouth. It tasted good, oozing sweet, wheat grass pre-jizz and his tight, full balls were a tasty snack as I licked them and took them in my mouth.

To get a better crack at his boy crack, I hoisted his legs and he went the extra distance and used his amazing body to double himself back so that he was in the yoga easy plow pose and his cock almost grazed his chin. The trouper in him spread his strong legs apart so that he was now a perfect, juicy letter T and I had unlimited access to his pretty, winking hole.

Where was little Quan? He was back on my cock, sucking on the big head and humming happily. He was completely, beautifully naked now. His body was a little stockier than Chang’s and he had a big, round beautiful ass, perfect for munching and stuffing.  His cock was short, thick, pulsing and very pink.

I buried my face between Chang’s firm cheeks and chowed down on his sweet little boy crack. I licked the crackling hair around the edge and slowly worked my way toward the steamy center. His face was bathed in a big, toothy smile and his eyes were closed. His sweet hard cock pointed to his full lips and drooled sweet boy juice onto his sparkling teeth. He licked his lips and enjoyed how he tasted. My relentless tongue worked its way into his steamy center and opened his tight boy bud, darting in and out while he squirmed, drooled and softly moaned. Once he was nicely opened, my tongue explored the rumbling golden zone between his twitching hole and his tight loaded balls. I methodically worked my way up to his balls and then licked them slowly, one, then the other until I put his tasty sack into my mouth and kept it there.

Quan was still on my cock, now working his mouth up and down its swollen length, humming happily with his sweet ass in the air, his sturdy boy meat ticking like a metronome with a pearl of cream on its head. He happily gulped down my pre jizz as I got dangerously close to popping my load in his willing mouth. We all could have blown our loads right then and there.

I popped my cock out of Quan’s mouth. He gasped. I stood and with Chang spread open so invitingly before me, I put the bulbous head of my cock at the tip of his trembling, winking butt crack. The next logical step was to fuck his pretty ass.

“No!” he said and folded his beautiful body like a lotus blossom so that he now sat on the bed in the yoga bound angle pose, where no juicy part of him could be reached. I sat down next to him and put my arm around his shoulders.

“You okay, baby? Did I hurt you?”

“No, Carlos. No. It is just that I do not get fucked. I am a top!”

“Oh! Okay.”

Quan lay across the bed in front of us, face up, his sweet hard metronome cock keeping time for us during our break.

“Quan is a very good bottom,” Chang said. “He loves to get fucked. You will like him!”

Quan nodded vigorously. “Yes, Mr. Carlos Carlos. Fuck me, please.”

He scooched his body around so that he was facing us and he lifted his body into the Easy Plow pose and showed off his beautiful meaty ass and his sensuous man split that had a few adorable curly hairs around it. It winked at us.

I squatted in front him. I spit on his hole and rested the hot, swollen head of my cock against it. His meaty ass was right there in front of me, like two gorgeous conga drums. I spit on each trembling cheek and spit on my hands. I gave one cheek a little whack, to test the waters and Quan vibrated and hummed. I gave the other one a little wack; Quan squeaked a little and hummed a little louder.

Quan’s upturned boy cakes were, you know, inspirational. I didn’t want to hurt him or leave a bruise. His magnificent body was his moneymaker. Chang leaned forward and stared at his helpless friend’s exposed fuckhole as if he’d never seen it before from this angle. Upon reflection, he decided to spit on Quan’s hole and then spit on each butt cheek which added extra resonance to my drum strokes. Quan gasped. Chang put his index finger on Quan’s crack, spit on it and then dug it into helpless Quan. He rooted around inside Quan’s steaming chamber as if he were looking for a lost friendship ring. Satisfied that he would not find it there, he withdrew his finger and leaned forward. He kissed me.

I stopped drumming and put my face in Quan’s smoking, parted boy gap. He smelled all boy, no wheat, just good honest sweat and testosterone. I kissed his musky bunghole, loud noisy smoochy kisses because I thought the sound effects in addition to the vibrations would drive him crazy. They did. I planted my open mouth over his hole and hummed into it with my deep baritone. The sound reverberated through his taut body and he let out a series of adorable squeaks. Then I jammed my tongue into him to open him up for my fat knobby cock. My tongue did rhythmic swirls, around and around his musky gasping chamber and my eyelids fluttered. So did his.

I leaned back and lowered Quan’s juicy haunches toward my stiff pole so that I was grazing his opening. With his exquisite body control he lowered his ass onto me and squeaked.  I watched the big head of my ice breaker part the waves of his bunghole and insinuate itself into him. The same vibrating humming technique he used with his mouth transferred to his lower body. His velvet interior massaged my cock, drawing it deeper into him and with a steady thrumming that made my whole body shake.  We stayed that way for several minutes, joined together in quiet harmony, no thrusting, no squeaking but his thick metronome cock beat time against his flat stomach.

Chang stood up and his pretty cock was right at my eye level. I brought it down a notch to my mouth and took in all its sweet, buttery inflexibility. I got generous second hand helpings of the benefits of wheatgrass thanks to his steady drool of pre-jizz. I felt healthier already! Chang's sweet meat was a perfect fit in my mouth, I could take it all in and use my tongue to coax more wheat juice out of him. I could feel the rumble of his load at the base of his cock. He stepped back.

“Wait. I do not want to shoot yet. I want to do more things with you,” he said.

I focused on plowing little Quan and leaned, full force into his body.

“Big man,” he grunted happily. Buried to the hilt in his hot ass, I put my mouth on his. His plush lips were perfect for kissing and his agile tongue rooted around for mine, then wrestled with it. I got lost in his kissing, in his ass. It all fit so well, felt so right, I never wanted to do anything else, be any place else ever again.

For a moment, I forgot all about Chang. The bed wasn’t that big, nor was the apartment so he couldn’t be far off.

I felt his warm body pressed body pressed up against my back. I gasped into Quan’s mouth and he gasped back. Chang’s hard dick grazed my hole as I buried my dick in Quan’s ass.      Chang probed my exposed fuck hole with his index finger.  I didn’t complain and let his finger do the walking. I was close to shooting a big load and my sphincter was locked up tight but Chang’s magic finger poked and probed and found a way into me. I grunted into Quan’s mouth. He grunted back.  Chang withdrew his finger and gently introduced his cock into my ass. The three of us inhaled simultaneously and took a moment to appreciate our new formation. I met Chang and Quan a little over an hour ago and now I was locked into a sensual Upward Facing Dog/Mounted Turtle pose with my two new friends.

We started rocking together. I was still locked onto Quan’s delicious mouth framed by his pillow lips and my cock was locked into his deep, silky, humming interior. Chang nibbled on my ears and he rocked himself deeper into my body. This double stuffed cookie we made was very satisfying, hitting several E, F and G spots at the same time. Chang’s sweet cock felt just right inside me.

 Time stood still. I didn’t know or care what time it was and I couldn’t tell you what the word time meant. The phone rang and there was a garbled message on the machine I didn’t pay attention to or care about it.  Chang, Quan and I were doing our own version of Swordsman in Double Flag Town. There were three flags in our movie, mine was in Quan’s butt and Chang’s was deep in mine.

I was getting close again and I didn’t want to hold out any more. I was going to say or grunt something but then I felt Quan’s cock, pressed between our two bellies, erupt in a pulsing fountain of jizz while his plush interior shuddered and tightened around my buried to the hilt cock. It was too much and I pulled out and without touching myself sent flying globs of jizz cascading through the air. They landed with loud plops on Quan’s face and some right into his open mouth. In the rush, I got disconnected from Chang and he said, softly, “I want to come. I am going to come.”

I wanted that sweet grass load I had been sampling so long and I didn’t want to see it go to waste flying through the air landing any old place. I quickly lay down next to Quan and we both were hungry cum guppies with our mouths wide open. Chang hovered over us, pumping his firm, loaded pistol in our direction. The first sweet dollops of his juice landed, with a plop, on the bridge of my nose and the most of the other plops tasted delicious (and healthy!) as they landed on my tongue. Quan nudged my head out of the way so he could catch the last few drops. As he licked his lips, his body stiffened and he grunted. He locked his lips onto mine, arched his back and pumped another hands-free load onto his rippled stomach. With a deep sigh, he relaxed his body and moved away from my mouth, sliding down my body to my cock, which he put in his mouth. He hummed.

Chang leaned over for a very deep kiss. “Hmm. Tastes good,” he said.

“You taste good all over,” I said. I stuck out my tongue.

“Please have a seat,” I said.

He got up and slowly lowered his lovely haunches onto my face. My tongue went right for is interior sweet spot. The combination of all the juices made it even sweeter. He rode my tongue like real cowboy, letting me get into his sugar wall. I felt his boy juices rumbling and regrouping inside him. He was hard and stroking his pretty dick. I pushed my tongue all the way into him and he shot a load that went across my chest in short, hot spasms.

Quan, still humming on my now hard again cock, looked up. He saw the flying jizz, arched his body, grunted and shot another no hands load on this belly.

 I wanted to stay with Chang and Quan forever. Something had to be done.

“Excuse me,” I said. I got up and went to the phone. I called a buddy of mine from the restaurant. Would he cover my shift? His girlfriend was knocked up and he needed the hours, the money and to get out of apartment. Yes.

 I put some cotton in my nostrils and practiced a vocal fry. I called the restaurant with my new worstcoldever voice and offered my ready replacement. Did they buy it? I don’t care. I was free.

 I got back in bed with Chang and Quan. I put my arms around both of them as we sat on the bed, watching the sun set in Manhattan and the sparkling light show that followed it. Their beautiful heads rested on each of my shoulders and we breathed slowly and sleepily. Our juice boxes were getting replenished for more hot action and yoga poses to come--and come again. But for now we were all happy, quiet, safe and dry and tomorrow was a long way off.

 THE END