Kevin Armstrong - Burmese Boy

The sleeping arrangements were basic – as befitted hardy, adventurous boy scouts. Just sleeping bags rolled out on rubber ground sheets.

Tim and I went to our tent and lay down on our sleeping bags. However I soon realized that my mate had no notion of just resting. I was quite surprised when he stepped out of his khaki shorts and knelt on his bag. He didn’t try to conceal the fairly large erection that jutted out in front of him and I noted with interest that he was uncut although, of course, I didn’t say anything. He gave his cock a few strokes and then looked at me. “There’s a group of us do this all the time at Army Cadets Kev. You should’ve joined.” With that he went back to his wanking and I felt myself hardening. I couldn’t take my eyes off Tim’s fairly loose foreskin riding up and down his shaft. At last I could stand it no longer. I slipped off my shorts and started pulling my own medium sized uncut cock. Tim gave me a complicit grin.

“My Dad tried to talk to me about wanking the other day” he chirped. “It was all so embarrassing. He tried to ask me if I’d started wanking – can you believe it? Anyway, he told me not to, that it was bad for my eyesight and that in any case I should save my spunk for the girl I’ll marry. Well, that took me by surprise Kev. I’ve been wanking every day since the beginning of the year but I’d never thought about my future wife.”

Tim stopped in mid stroke and looked at me. “You know Kev I thought, well maybe Dad’s right. Maybe I should save it for… then I thought, nah, why should I worry? I’m sure the girl I marry won’t miss a few drops.”

With that Tim started pulling his cock again in earnest and I could see that his well-shaped head was swelling and turning red. He gasped and shot more than just a few drops all over his ground sheet.

A couple of days after my previous visit to Malaysia I was back at Day Thermos. On this occasion, after donning my towel, I went straight into the small dark wet sauna area where I’d encountered the handsome Indian boy. Almost immediately I was embraced in the dark. As my eyes adjusted to the gloom I thought I was being held by another Malaysian boy. Smooth, hairless body excepting for the lush pubes. Very closely cropped black hair. Eyes that glittered. His towel fell away and I became aware of an extremely generous uncut cock. I would discover sometime later how generous. “You want to fuck?” he whispered in my ear. Well, this boy certainly believed in getting down to it. Taking my hand he led the way up the metal staircase and along the corridor with the private rooms. But the doors were all firmly closed. Now seeming a little desperate the boy manoeuvred me into a shadowy alcove at the top of the stairs. I felt the tip of his cock probing for my opening, no lube, no time, what the hell. I willed my arse muscles to relax and flexed those at the base of my cock… those that you clinch if you suddenly have to stop pissing. The head of the boy’s cock was inside and I pushed back very slowly. Wow, about seven inches I thought, making an educated guess. Later I discovered I was bang on if I can put it like that. Although it was fairly dark at the top of the stairs I felt somewhat exposed as guys of all ages and sizes drifted past. No one seemed bothered or even interested except for a massive “chub” who stopped to examine my boy’s thrusting bubble butt. Well, perhaps in thinking of him as “my boy” I was being a little premature. I didn’t even know his name.

By the by, most saunas I’ve been to keep larger towels (massive really) for chubs who are a fairly common variety. Well, perhaps “common” is being a little unfair, but you know what I mean. Chubs are usually youngish men with great rolls of fat. I’ve sometimes wondered about the life expectancy of the chub. One of my young gay friends is into chubs and he tells me that they often have very small cocks and that it’s rather difficult to discover them sometimes.

Before “my boy” came one of the rooms along the corridor became vacant so we grabbed it. Now I could see the boy more clearly and noticed that although his skin had a dark golden hue, his cock was nearly black. I gave it a few gentle tugs, pulling the foreskin so that the lips met, thus hiding the head for a moment. I let go and the foreskin receded just a little, with the tip of the glans peeping out. Just the right length. More ammo for my theory.

I soon discovered that my boy was called Adrian and that he was actually Burmese. This explained his lovely lilting accent. He was also quick to tell me that he was bi-sexual and that he had a girlfriend. Well…

We started fucking again and at the same time he was wanking my cock. Now you don’t have to be Sherlock Holmes to work out who was up whom. Well, if he wasn’t going to cum, I certainly was. I twisted myself round, he took my cock in his mouth and I exploded. He spluttered and spat and it was only some time later that I discovered he didn’t really like taking a load orally. But because we had only just met he felt that he should be polite and accommodate me. Adrian started shoving himself into my nether regions again and at last he came. Just before he climaxed he pulled out and I gratefully took his load in my mouth. Once again there was that beautiful Asian taste… smooth with just a touch of the tang of tropical seas perhaps. Ah, Joseph Conrad… where are you now?

Adrian told me that he had to go to the toilet and I thought – well, it was good while it lasted. Will I ever see him again? Whilst I was waiting a very black Indian guy popped his head in the door with a questioning look. I wouldn’t have said “no” under normal circumstances but I’d just unloaded and… “Sorry Darling. I’m waiting for my boyfriend.” Boyfriend? My God, we are becoming presumptuous. He flashed me a grin and disappeared. After a while Adrian suddenly reappeared and my heart leapt and skipped a beat at the same time – if that is medically possible. I told him what had transpired in his absence and he laughed and darted his eyes.

We went down stairs to our lockers and I suddenly felt uncomfortable as I found myself being stared at rather malevolently by a thick-set Arab guy I’d had to knock back on my previous visit after coming inside Rafael.

I sat on a bench in the locker area and Adrian insisted on helping me put on my candy striped socks. I didn’t know whether to feel embarrassed or whether I should gloat. Anyway, I was aware of some rather envious looks. When we were done I invited Anthony to join me for a beer in Malone’s bar across the road from Day Thermos.

After the waiter had deposited two pints of Tiger I got straight to the point and asked my new friend if he visited the sauna very often.

“Sometimes. When I can afford it.”

“Do you usually fuck Asian boys or always Caucasian guys?”

“Oh, always Caucasian men. Never Asian boy.”

He looked at me rather wistfully. “You have family?”

“No, no children. But I do have a goddaughter. She lives in England.”

“Oh…” his eyes glistened. “Can I be your godson?”

“Of course you can.” We both laughed and raised our glasses. Then he looked at me rather seriously. “I love my godfather. But is it OK if I fuck with my godfather?” He laughed uproariously.

“I’m sure it’s OK… my godson.”

More glistening and clinking.

So far in Malaysia I have not come across any glory holes in the saunas that I have visited. This may be because the owners do not wish to provide such graphic hints of the kind of action that goes on in these places to inquisitive visiting authorities. Of course glory holes are openings in walls or partitions between two rooms placed at an appropriate height from the floor. They are usually generous enough so that the guy seeking satisfaction can insert his cock and his “satisfier” on the other side can fondle his balls as well as wank or suck the offered cock.