take the root of his own cock in his hand and rotate it in Tommy’s ass at great depth. Tommy would arch his back and rotate his hips in rhythm with David’s moves and sigh and moan. I could tell that David was fully satisfying him. And I wanted David to fully satisfy me, as well—and, maybe, instead of Tommy, if the truth be known.

Right before David ejaculated inside Tommy, he brought his lips down to the hollow of Tommy’s neck and kissed him deeply there. Tommy turned his face toward me. His eyes were droopy and hooded; he looked like they were swimming in David’s semen, and I hated him for that. He gave me a satisfied “I’ve got what you want” smile and then David turned his head and they went into a long kiss during which Tommy continued to writhe in pleasure until his body jerked and he shot cum up onto David’s belly. I turned and left the room in frustration and jealously.

I did eventually have sex with David, but it was nothing like the sex he had with Tommy. On several occasions we got into heavy petting on his pillow-strewn sofa, always when Tommy was off doing someone’s hair. David would never touch me when Tommy was there.

Our first sexual encounter was in the southern peninsula district of Thailand where we had gone on an American Embassy cultural program. David had a magnificent baritone singing voice, and as I had been a professional tenor, we had been teamed up to give cultural exchange concerts around Southeast Asia. The hotel we were staying at was a small one on the beach across from some peculiar—and spectacular—outcroppings that arose from the sea just off the coast and that had figured in one of the then-recent James Bond films. The hotel was so small that David and I had to share a room. The setting was exotic and the twilight was so romantic that we found ourselves in each other's arms on a lounge chair we had found on the balcony outside our room. I atypically was the aggressor. I tried to kiss David on the lips, but he avoided that. He, however, allowed me to kiss his nipples and all around his torso until my lips dipped lower than his navel. He then brought my head back up to his chest and murmured that we could stroke each other off but no cocksucking, fucking, or even kissing on the lips.

I was extremely disappointed and angry at the hold that Tommy seemed to have on David, but I did come quickly to the magic touch of his hands stroking my cock, and he sighed and moaned satisfactorily at my own hand job on his dick.

On the occasions when David and I subsequently had sex, we would undress each other—which didn’t take much effort, as there never was much being worn in the tropics anyway. As in our initial coupling, he never let me kiss him on the lips or on the cock or asshole, and he wouldn’t do that for me either, but kisses elsewhere and “feels” anywhere were permitted. Our cuddlings and pettings usually ended with David straddling me from behind, his cock dry fucking up from the small of my back and him running his hands over my chest and belly and thighs and stroking my cock until I came. He’d have his face buried in the hollow of my neck from behind, and when he jacked off up my back,