Culture Clash

By Morris Henderson / BigMoH

Published on Apr 21, 2009

Gay

CULTURE CLASH

He then looked at me. His eyes sparkled. Some of that sparkle was due to a tiny amount of tears but the sparkle seemed to be coming from his very soul.

"Brian," he began, "That has happened to me. I have this feeling when I am with you. I did not know what it was. Now I know. It is love, Brian. I think I love you."

CHAPTER THREE

His words hit me like a bombshell. They reverberated through my mind, disrupting all rational thought. I suffered what could only be called mental chaos. I sat virtually comatose, trying to absorb what I heard. It was incomprehensible! We had known each other for only a few weeks. How could it be possible that he felt genuine love for me? He seemed to feel his family's honor was more important than a gay relationship. Why, then, would he say he loved me?

After I don't know how long, I became aware of his hovering over me saying, "Brian! What is wrong? Are you all right? Shall I call a doctor?"

I heard myself say, "I'm okay."

With great difficulty, I gained partial control of my thoughts. He said he loved me. What could he see in me to love? I admired his intelligence. His personality (after overcoming his shyness) was energizing. He was unselfishly generous in helping me understand chemistry. I liked him, even held affection for him. He had quickly become my best friend. But could I say what he so earnestly admitted? Could I say that I loved him? I didn't think so.

He jarred me out of my chaotic thoughts by saying, "Brian! I have upset you. I am sorry. Please forgive me."

"No, Jay. You did not upset me. You surprised me, that's all. I was overwhelmed by what you said. I'm extremely pleased but I have to admit that I'm confused. How can you be sure you love me, Jay?"

"I am not sure. I said I THINK I love you. You have always been kind to me. I am comfortable talking to you. You are not like other people. But there is more. I have a feeling I have never had. Like in the words you read to me. It is wonderful feeling, Brian. I want to be with you. I feel good when I am with you. I think about you when I am not with you. Is that love?"

"I don't know," I confessed. "I've never been in love so I don't know what it feels like. What I do know is that I like you very much. I enjoy being with you, too. But I have to be honest. I don't think I'm ready to call what I feel love."

His expression turned from serious to sour as he said, "You do not love me?"

I regretted making him feel sad so I replied, "I like you, Jay, more than any other person I've known. You're my best friend. Maybe it's love. I don't know. But this I do know for sure: I want very much to love you."

"Oh," he said with obvious feeling. "I hope you will! I hope you can!"

"I hope so, too, Jay. I'm very fond of you. It's just that ... well ... I don't know yet whether it's real love."

To my relief, he didn't look disappointed with what I said. Rather, he replied, "You read to me from a story. About love. That's the way I feel. Is that the way you feel?"

His question challenged me to think deeply about my feelings toward him. After a moment's reflection, I said, "Yes, Jay, that's the way I feel. But you have to understand that I struggle to understand what love is. I didn't even have my parents to show me what love was like. I love my dad but that's different. My parents never showed love for each other, even before they started to argue and fight. But please believe me. I want someone to love. I want very much to love you."

Jay smiled but then his expression turned serious again, which was a sure sign that he was rigorously analyzing the situation.

"You want to love me?" he asked.

"Yes! Very much."

"I believe I can help. We can do sex together. That will help you love me."

"Wait a minute!" I blurted out. "I want to have sex with you almost as much as I want to love you. But there is a flaw in you logic. Having sex can be nothing more than satisfying a physical need. As much as I want to have sex with you, I don't want to do it if you feel you must do it to win my love. If you'll recall, I said that gay sex is all right but not if one person feels forced to do it. More importantly, I promised not to do anything that would make you dishonor your family."

"I make no mistake in my logic, Brian. When I said we could do sex it was because I wanted to do it. I have wanted to do it for a long time. I want it more since knowing you. I am not being forced. I have thought much about it. I have decided I am gay and will live as a gay man. My family will be shamed but only if they know what I have chosen to do. I will be gay but it must be a secret from my family. I want to be gay with you, Brian. I love you. I want to give you my love."

I believed him, perhaps because I wanted to believe him, perhaps because I had never known him to be dishonest about anything, perhaps because being with him and not sharing our bodies had been so extraordinarily frustrating. Whatever the reason or combination of reasons, I welcomed the unexpected prospect of sex with him and, just as importantly, the possibility of a meaningful relationship.

"You've made me very happy," I said. "I'll do my best to make you happy ... for as long as you'll have me."

Spontaneously, we clutched each other in an embrace. This was the moment I had longed for: holding someone in my arms ... someone I was fond of and who cared for me ... someone who had willingly expressed a desire -- a need -- to engage in an intimate expression of our mutual affection.

"How long can you stay here tonight?" I asked.

He looked at his watch. "I told my parents I would come home at eight," he replied with a frown. (That was less than an hour away.) Then, smiling, he said, "I can telephone them to say that I will be late."

After he made the phone call, I led him to my bedroom. Upon entering, he seemed to grow apprehensive. "Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied without hesitation. "But I do not know what to do. I saw pictures on your computer of men doing sex but I have not done those things."

"Neither have I," I assured him. "We will learn together. Is that all right with you?"

"Yes," he said. "You will be patient if I do not do it good?"

"Of course," I replied. "We both have a lot to learn. But let's agree on one rule. If I do anything that you don't like or makes you uncomfortable, you must tell me."

"All right," he said but there was a hint of trepidation in his voice.

"Don't worry, Jay. I won't do anything to hurt you. I want to give you nothing but pleasure."

"And you the same?" he asked. "Will you tell me if I do something bad?"

"Agreed!" I said but I couldn't imagine anything he would do that would upset me.

Although I was eager to see him naked just as I had so often imagined in my fantasies, I recognized that he was far more nervous than I was. We would have to proceed slowly.

For the next hour and a half, we spoke very little. We listened to our inner voices and responded to the other's nonverbal cues. But the intensity of our communication was powerful.

I wanted to undress him but didn't want him to be shy over being naked. I hoped he would be more at ease if we undressed together. I placed his hands on my top shirt button. With a little urging, he quickly accepted my unspoken invitation and unbuttoned my shirt. I started to take off my undershirt but then stopped and looked at him. He grinned and pulled it off over my head. I was rapidly getting hard in anticipation; no doubt, he was, also.

I then removed his long-sleeve tee shirt. The pattern was set. He unbuckled and removed my belt; I did the same to his. Before long, we stood facing each other wearing nothing but our boxers. By this time, we were both showing a prominent tent. It was his turn in the spur-of-the-moment ritual I had invented. He was to remove my boxers. But he stood there.

I worried that he was having second-thoughts. "Jay," I said softly. "Are you still sure you want to do this?"

"Nan-na-see," he said quietly but with conviction. He had taught me the word previously; it meant "yes." I also understood why he reverted to his native tongue; he was stressed.

I reached out and pulled him into a hug. I hadn't planned it but our stiff cocks pressed against each other. That caused him to gasp. I felt his muscles grow tense. "Relax," I said. "We can go as slowly as you want."

He soon calmed down and returned my hug, holding me tight with his head against my shoulder. As soon as I thought his anxiety has dissipated, I broke the hug, placed my hands on his shoulders, and stepped back. I gazed admiringly at his trim body. "You are beautiful," I said. He was! A compact, trim body that was reminiscent of his recent youth but very masculine. His naturally bronze skin flawlessly clung to firm muscles that were perfectly proportioned for his diminutive frame.

He broke my trance when I felt his hands reach for the waist band of my boxers. I allowed him to slip my boxers down. He seemed to be particularly careful easing them down so as not to bend my erect cock into an uncomfortable position. He kneeled down and helped me step out of my boxers. Then, still on his knees, he stared at my cock for a long time. I thought I knew what he wanted. I certainly knew what I wanted. I took both his hands in mine and lifted them up, placing them on my cock. The sensation was indescribable. Nobody had touched me there since I was an infant. Now, a man was fondling me, a man who was eager for sex, a man whom I had grown to (dare I say it?) love!

I let him explore my manhood until I was afraid I would cum. Then I lifted him to his feet and slipped my thumbs under the waistband of his boxers. My heart was pounding. I was about to see something that had been denied to me. Sure, I had felt it and even jerked it off but Jay had modestly hidden it from my sight. For some strange reason I couldn't explain, that made the goal of feasting my eyes on it all the more enticing.

I gently pulled down his boxers. And there it was, a most beautiful vision of virility and innocence. Thick, curly, jet-black pubic hair. Dark skin stretched tightly around a pole that pointed to the ceiling. Just the tip of a helmeted head peeking out from his foreskin. And two spheres suspended in a wrinkled sack of skin. Those spheres harbored the precious cream that I hoped would be released into my mouth.

I didn't need any encouragement to caress his endowment. But I did so carefully because I recalled that he had a hair trigger. I selfishly wanted his nectar in my mouth, down my throat, and to become a part of me.

I stood and seized him in another embrace, deliberately pressing our rigid cocks firmly against each other. We both moaned with ecstasy over the sensations that we both had craved for so long.

I led him to the bed and laid him down. I laid down beside him and said, "If you don't mind, Jay, I'd like to adore your body for a while. Just lay there and enjoy it."

He nodded his assent and I began massaging his chest. When his nipples stood up demanding more attention, I gave them special consideration. But I felt compelled to proceed toward my ultimate objective. I gently massaged downward but kept my hands tantalizingly away from his throbbing cock. I wanted to increase his arousal and desire but my arousal was also peaking. When I could wait no longer, I let my fingers delve into his thick pubic bush. He groaned in anticipation. With one hand I cupped his balls, the reservoir that held what I desperately wanted to savor. The intensity and frequency of his groaning increased. When I pulled back his foreskin, he started to writhe with pleasure. When I kissed the exposed head of his twitching cock, I tasted the copious precum, which launched me into an orbit of unfettered lust.

I had barely wrapped my hungry lips around his hot shaft when he instinctively began bucking his hips, which drove his impatient rod deep into my mouth. He must have been very close to the brink, even with minimal stimulation of his penis because it was a disappointingly short time before he screamed something in Thai and fired a torrent of his nectar down my throat.

My own cum was slightly bitter, even after I had grown used to it but Jay's was almost sweet ... perhaps because I had wanted it for so long ... perhaps because it came from Jay whom I had grown to (dare I say it again?) love.

Having suckled the last few precious drops, I laid on my side to cuddle Jay while he recovered. When his breathing returned to normal, he startled me by quickly attacking me with a ferocious hug. He buried his head into my shoulder and said, "You made me very happy. I love you!"

I hugged him back, still afraid to say I loved him but knowing deep in my heart that I did.

With no further comment, he began to give me the attention that I had given him. No longer shy, no longer nervous, he duplicated my actions methodically but still very erotically. I thought about giving him permission not to take my cum into his mouth but decided that I should let him make the decision.

I tried to hold back but my efforts were futile. I had never had such an intense and debilitating orgasm. It paralyzed my body. For a long time, the only reality in my mind was the powerful sensations emanating from my crotch and infusing my entire body with pleasure.

We cuddled for several blissful minutes silently but for Jay saying, "Thank you, Brian. You have given me great happiness. I love you."

Much too soon, it was time for Jay to return home. We dressed and I escorted him to the front door where we lingered in a long, adoring embrace. Before parting, we kissed passionately. Both of us struggled to hold back the tears as he left -- tears of joy for having found each other, tears of sadness over his need to return home.

I collapsed onto the sofa cherishing the memory of our overwhelming experience. It was the first time for both of us; I hoped it would not be the last. My thoughts then turned to my feelings toward the angel that had entered my life thanks to a random assignment of pairs in chemistry class. If there was a God, I thought irrationally, the pairing was not entirely random. It was during that reflection that I recognized that, yes, I did love Jay! It was as Tom Borden had described it: "...you'll know love when it hits you and sweeps over you. You'll know it when a certain exhilaration comes over you. You'll feel enlivened and your heart will quicken. A feeling of warmth and tenderness and endearment will take hold of you like a cramp in your middle. And with it will come passion, desire, and a yearning like nothing you have ever felt before." I had experience everything in that passage: exhilaration, warmth, tenderness, passion, yearning. It had to be genuine love!

I could think of nothing else as I got ready for bed, only the pure joy of being with Jay. I was looking forward to a lifetime of companionship when a crippling thought cruelly destroyed my euphoria. Jay's father was in the country for a limited time and would eventually return to Thailand. No doubt Jay would accompany his family to his homeland. The thought seared my soul. I cried myself to sleep.


Jay and I worked together on a lab experiment in class on Wednesday. I couldn't concentrate; my thoughts were alternately captured by my love for my lab partner and the inevitable loss of his companionship. Jay, however, was far more disciplined and only with his efforts did we complete the experiment.

As we left the lab, I said, "Jay, I have to tell you something. Can we go somewhere private? Do you have a few minutes?"

"Of course," he replied and we walked out of the building to sit on a bench under a large oak tree.

I wanted to hold him close to me and kiss him before I said what I wanted to say but, of course, that was impossible in public. "Jay," I began. "I want you to know that I love you. More than anything in the world. More than I ever imagined I could. I'm sorry that I didn't recognize it as sooner but now I'm certain."

Jay made a move as though he was going to hug me but caught himself in time and sat back with a radiating smile on his face. "You made me happy on Monday," he said, "But now I am much more happy. I love you!"

"When can you come see me again?" I asked, eager to show my love for him.

Jay thought for a moment and replied, "Tomorrow. I will tell my parents we study for a test."

"That's ... what's the word? ... wi set!"

Jay laughed at my mispronunciation of the Thai phrase for wonderful and said, "Wi set!" and then repeated it slowly to emphasize the correct pronunciation. "Yes! It is wonderful!"

To be continued.

Next: Chapter 4


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