Bangkok Defection

Until now. He was stubby enough that it was Bacher who had to hold deep inside me and let the architect, buried only shallowly in my channel, make hard jabs into me and, periodically, revolve his thick cock near my entrance to make the most of his size. The cock could reach my prostate, though, so I could pant and moan—and spout—for him as well as the next man.

The Indian doctor brought the three of us together a few times after that. After the sex, I’d be sent on my way. The doctor would see me to the door, sometimes even coming out of the apartment with me and only separating when we were down on the street, leaving the other two men in his examination room. I could see, in passing, that two glasses and a vodka bottle had been set out on the dining room table each time. I didn’t know at the time who they were for—and only later did the significance of them hit me.

But that was only for one more month, until the evening of the Chopin piano concert I went to at the Bangkok Opera hall. As president of the local society, I had been invited to sit in Ambassador Bacher’s box. His wife, Lidka, was the honorary sponsor of the concert, so we were in the king’s box. Kemp and his wife were there too. And, to my consternation, a political officer from the American embassy was in the box as well.

Nothing untoward happened until the interval, although I could feel the heat coming off the ambassador as he took occasional glances in my direction. There was no pretense, I knew, in how much he wanted me, how hooked he was on me. The Indian doctor was still lending me out to his friends during this period, and I was finding that I melted more to a rough thug than to someone as elegant and refined as the ambassador. So, although I liked him well enough and enjoyed being doubled by him, in particular, he did not hold me in thrall. Certainly not as much as the Indian doctor did with his variety and his mesmerizing voice—and with perhaps the longest cock I’d had in Bangkok, a cock that was like a snake and could kiss my channel walls from any direction with its rubbing bulb and almost seemed to be able to suck on my prostrate until I came in prodigious flow.