Chapter 3 – Chapter 3

It was late morning, and Lars, in his tight swimming trunks, was sunning himself on the deck outside the curved window of the concert hall. Amnad was in the hall, practicing the sonatas on the grand piano. Somsri was sitting in a chair near the piano, head down and facing away from the glass wall out onto the cove, making notes in a score. At the sound of a closing door in one of the huts on the platform jutting out into the cover, Lars turned his eyes in that direction to see Krit emerge in a gap on the pier between huts. He was only wearing shorts and flip-flops. By the time he reached the next gap in the huts, he was naked, with the shorts draped over his arm. His body was lithe but well muscled. He was an extremely handsome young man. His cock was in erection. When he reached the next gap between the huts, he turned, stood at the edge of the pier, and looked intently in Lars' direction.

Lars rose from the orange padding on the deck and slowly stripped his swimming trunks down and off. Krit was still watching him intently. After what was only a few seconds but one in which both men were holding their breath, Krit executed a sleek dive into the shallow waters of the cove, did a circle to where Lars was standing on the deck outside the concert hall, and started swimming in swift strokes out toward the sea.

Lars dove into the water. He was a stronger swimmer than Krit—or at least Krit permitted him to be so on that day. The water was still shallow and clear enough to see that all that was below was white sand and schools of small, neon-colored fish. Lars stood on the sand, water only up to below his pecs, and crouched, while holding the smaller Krit in front of him, the two men facing each other. Krit sat on Lars' thighs, encircling Lars' waist with his legs and Lars' neck with his arms. Lars encircled the smaller Thai's waist with a beefy arm, and moved his other hand between their bellies and worked Krit's cock while Krit and raised and lowered his channel on Lars' cock.

They held there, up to their chests in the water, cooling their panting down, after each had ejaculated.

"Enough?" Lars murmured.

"No, again, if you can," Krit whispered, his face buried in the hollow of Lars' shoulders.

They swam around the edge of rocks at one end of the cove, where they found a sheltered stretch of sand. Lars stood at the edge of the surf, foam rolling beyond his planted feet and then back into the ocean, as Krit was joined with him at their pelvises, his torso arched back toward the sands of the beach, his knuckles barely touching the sand, while Lars grabbed his buttocks and pulled him on and off the cock to a second ejaculation.

Afterward, Lars lay on top of Krit, between his thighs, and they kissed repeatedly.

"You will pack and return to Germany with me after the concert," Lars whispered.

"I cannot. My life is here now—with Somsri and with my music."

Lars entered him again and fucked him for a third time—more roughly this time, with Krit writhing under him, crying out—but crying out for the fuck rather than in opposition to the rough fucking.

"You can't get enough of it. You know what you want. You will have to return with me."

"No. I do want you—again and again. You can have me anytime you want. I will seek you out as long as you are in Thailand. But I won't go back."

"I think you will," Lars said, the exasperation showing in his voice. "I think I can make you."

He rose off of Krit then and ran into the water, dove into a wave, and started swimming back into the cove with strong strokes. When Krit managed to swim back, Lars was nowhere to be seen. The sounds of Chopin's Sonata in B minor, opus 58, were still wafting out over the water from the concert hall.