Paradise 2

My flight home touched down yesterday. Upon landing, that feeling started to surge, the one which you were well aware that life would go back to the same routine. The group, no matter how divisive, still gave me a certain amount of comfort, the kind that you found in a strange place, with strangers who weren’t close enough to dig up anything under the surface.

Work was over. My guests were happy, or at least I thought so. They said I was responsive. I thought they, straight Japanese men, could always cause sexual confusion. I barely had any sleep due to skin allergy and the constantly changing meeting schedule. Some of the group members had problems with my frequent individual activities, deeming it as “isolated” and even raised the topic of my sexuality in gossip sessions. Privileged females having nothing else to do at recess, I always found them intimidating. But there were always others worth remembering.

There was this guy in the group whom I always bumped into, no matter where I went. He was even seated next to me on the plane. “Maybe it’s fate?” I thought, despite the fact that I didn’t find him attractive, but company was really what I was craving in that beautiful coastal city. The night was a bit less lonely with him sharing a beer on the beach, listening to the waves, sharing each other’s deepest fear. I felt his hand sometimes, maybe accidentally or intentionally, seeking out to mine. He asked me about my ring. I did the same and he told me he was married with a baby due this year. That night, I refrained the urge to knock on his door, which was also next to mine, and told him that I was actually the guy he had been chatting with on Grindr.

The girl who proposed the idea of a fake marriage was there too. She was really detailed and caring towards me. The night she was about to embark on a sexual adventure with her driver (who was married), I tried to talk her out of it. I tried to convince her that she deserved much better than that, that she needed to treat herself with more respect, that she didn’t have to feel cheap afterwards and for next time, always gained the upper hand and never let a man know that he was wanted. But then I was reminded that I wasn’t much different. I didn’t manage to follow my own set rules.

Speaking of sex, in the course of 8 days, I met about 10 guys, 9 of which had my cock in their mouth:

  • a financial advisor who took me for a swim in his fancy apartment residence then swallowed my 5 day load;
  • a submissive English bottom that rode my dick and took my piss while his husband was browsing iPad next door. I criticized him to his partner that he should have informed me of his status in advance, not to withdraw but to be mentally prepared. He used my cum in the condom to lube himself and told his husband afterwards that I was very dominant;
  • a famous movie producer that refused to reveal his identity who was kind enough to listen to my rant and my dream, then ask me to go to the casting for his next movie, saying I had a face for comedy. He liked Girl, Interrupted too and knew a very critical-acclaimed director whose movies I adore. He said I should be proud of my cock;
  • a sassy one that cum early and wanted to keep the sex silence, whom I took a risk by taking him to the shared room of us. I did it in the break time and almost missed the next activity, which was my lesson to learn;
  • a guy from Hong Kong who cheated on his partner, whom I took another risk by taking him to another room (upon finding out that a colleague was still inside mine, I lied to the reception to get the key of the one next door);
  • a hotel manager whom I blamed for destroying beautiful white sand dunes to build more resort (he must have thought I was a hypocrite). He put ice cold gin tonic in his mouth then passed into mine, which I resisted since I didn’t want to kiss him. He then used the same trick on my cock. It was never finished since I had to go to a meeting but I constantly bumped into him in the next several days since he was working there. It was awkward;
  • a mate that had happy smiling eyes who reminded me of the Western standard Santa Claus. He was very demanding at first but after a post-orgasm substantive pillow talk, he gave it his own by giving me a mind-blowing blowjob. It was like all his years of experiences were solidified in this 15 min session. He gave me a sign indicating he would love to meet again, so did I, but then I blew it for being a bit pushy;
  • an extremely cute Russian who was my age, muscular and nice chest who asked me to come by his hotel and then touched my bulge in public, asking me if all the guys in this country had cocks like this, pulling me to a dark corner and sucking it all the way (with a condom). He came, I didn’t. We scheduled to meet another time for a more thorough session but he accused me of stealing his pocket money and threatened to bring it to the police. For a moment I thought he was a con. But I talked sense to him and ended the conversation. In my mind, scenarios had been played out, all suggesting that I would have had the advantages if he had ever to attempted what he said;
  • one last Russian who wasn’t shy away from public act, gave me a blowjob and wanted to lick my hole in Sheraton restroom. He stayed with his homophobic friends and was a bit older. But then, it’s experience that made up for it. His bj skill was much better than the previous Russian. He didn’t swallow though.

But let’s talk about the bright spots. In between of all that, I managed to take a day off, rent a motorbike to drive all the way to a somewhat less touristy island where I had my first lobster with a girl whom I swear I would date if I were straight. She was fun. She was smart. She was independent. She was of strong and notable character and she knew how to deal with things. Running almost 100 miles in motor within a day, along the coastal pass was a magnificent memory.

There was this guy who I befriended with during a coffee break. He was there to advertise his company’s products and was literally breathing satire comedy with every word he said. Another outcast kid I knew when I first enter this business was there too, and he helped me with a lot of logistic matter. He was with me for several dinners too.

The resistance to go back to normal life was much strengthened with the food poisoning. But any paradise has to have its end so another could be more properly appreciated.

 

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This entry was published on March 6, 2017 at 5:49 pm. It’s filed under Friends, girl, one night stand, Travel, work and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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