Always Together

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My new story, Always Together, from the GAY DIMENSIONS series will be available for FREE DOWNLOADING on 5th and 6th of December from Amazon Kindle. Here is an excerpt.

1: Shanghai

Cheng had been drifting in and out of a dream for half the night. His Australian friend Basil moved in and out of his consciousness. Where was he now Cheng wondered? Had they been boyfriends? Even lovers? Well they’d certainly had sex, lots of sex. It had happened so naturally whilst they were working on the dangerous television documentary series about the human organ harvesting racket in China. The series that had led to Cheng being imprisoned in a dismal cell-like hospital room in the city of Shanghai.

Basil had a slight build, rather like a ballet dancer, his hair was a light brunette shade and his eyes, which could look brooding at times, were a darker brown.

For whatever reason Cheng had always preferred having sex with Caucasian boys and when they eventually got round to talking about sex, Basil had expressed surprise at this because he considered that Chinese boys had the cutest cocks on the planet.

The sex they’d shared was thrilling and ecstatic and Cheng thought that it was probably fuelled by the adrenaline caused by their work on the organ harvesting documentaries. Adrenaline caused by the danger they faced. If their secret project was discovered they both knew that they would be ‘donating’ their own vital organs.

 

Basil had first travelled to Shanghai with a contingent from Crown Media which was one of Australia’s leading broadcasting organisations. As well as television and radio stations the conglomerate had newspapers, magazines and a cinema chain. Crown Media was involved with the Chinese organisation Cheng worked for, Pearl Oriental Television. They were working on a series of co-productions that were costing more than a hundred million dollars.

Cheng had joined Pearl Oriental whilst still in his late teens and had quickly built a reputation in producing, writing and directing prize-winning television series. He’d quickly become Pearl’s golden boy. When filming a series he often went off at eccentric tangents but in the end he was always able to bring all of the elements of a programme together to create a dynamic effect. His productions were unique and were praised around China and the rest of Asia for their astounding insights and depth. ‘How the mighty have fallen’ was a phrase Cheng remembered reading in a British history book.

Because Cheng was working on documentaries for the television market and Basil from Australia was working on the creation of apps and the design of web sites and games to accompany them as well as special effects and animation software, it was inevitable that the two young men would work together. And just as inevitable that they would start to go out together, to bars and restaurants and visiting Shanghai’s gay saunas and having sex.

For his first few days working in Shanghai Basil had convinced himself that the young Chinese director he’d been assigned to was straight – which was a great pity Basil considered. The boy had wonderful golden skin that simply seemed to glow with good health. Unusually for a Chinese lad he had sparkling green eyes and Basil thought he must have inherited some genes from the deserts of northern Asia.

Actually on the flight from Sydney Basil had tried to tell himself that whilst in China he would forget all about sex. After all, although he would have to admit to himself that he was an outrageous slut, he had his steady boyfriend back in Australia. Oliver was a lawyer. He was a couple of years older than Basil and although he seemed to enjoy listening to Basil’s stories about having sex in the past at school and fucking ballet boys in the park after dance classes, he was insistent that their relationship would be monogamous. Besides, Basil knew nothing about the gay scene in China. Did anal sex carry the death penalty, the same as dealing in drugs?

And so it was that Basil was quite surprised when after work one day at Pearl Oriental Cheng invited him to go one of Shanghai’s gay saunas. Eventually Basil discovered that homosexuality had fairly recently been taken off China’s “mental illness” register and that for many boys and young men having sex together was almost as natural as breathing.

After Cheng and Basil had undressed in the locker room at the Mong Ling sauna on their first visit together, the Chinese boy had shown a great interest in Basil’s foreskin. He was surprised to say the least. He told his new Australian friend that it was received wisdom in Shanghai’s gay circles that most Aussie boys were cut.

Basil had laughed and said, “Well I’m afraid that information is a bit out of date Cheng. That would have been the case maybe in the forties and the fifties – but since that time Australia has had great waves of immigration. People from Europe, Vietnam, China… I recently saw this article on the net estimating that nowadays only about fifteen percent of boys in Australia have circumcised cocks.”

“Anyway, I am pleased that you are uncut” Cheng had told Basil… “with such thick lips” he said, laughing. After that the Chinese boy had played with Basil’s cock as if it was second nature to him.

Eventually Basil admitted to Cheng that he was addicted to Chinese cum. At first the Chinese boy was a little shocked and then he suggested that his new friend might be joking.

“Not at all” Basil had laughed. “It all started at my high school. There was this Chinese boy called Kang who had migrated with his family from Hong Kong. We used to wank together in the bush behind the sports oval. Then one afternoon he told me he wanted to squirt his load into my mouth. That was my first taste and I’ve been a sucker for Chinese juice ever since. ‘Sucker’ – you get my joke?”

“You mean to say there is a difference in taste?” laughed Cheng.

“Sure! It’s sweeter than the cum you get from Aussie boys or Europeans… and there is something indescribably exotic about the taste. ‘Redolent of the perfumes wafting across the South China Sea’ as Joseph Conrad would have said. But haven’t you noticed the difference yourself Cheng?”

“I wouldn’t know” said the Chinese boy rather ruefully. “I’ve mostly only ever blown Caucasian boys. Some Australians, lots of Americans, a few English, one German boy who had such a thick foreskin I could hardly find the head.”

“You’ve never sucked a Chinese boy?” said Basil incredulously.

“Oh yes, but I must tell you I’ve never noticed the difference. Not a lot of Chinese boys mind you because I had this beautiful lover, this boyfriend called Chang who worked with me.”

“And are you still -?”

Cheng shook his head and there were tears in his eyes so Basil thought it best to avoid the subject of the boyfriend.

“Well that’s my theory about oriental spunk and I’m sticking to it” said Basil.

“So you have no trouble finding Chinese boys in Australia?”

“Not at all Cheng. There’s this gay sauna called Steamworks not far from where I live. It’s right on the edge of China Town and there are two universities and a technical college close by. So of course Steamworks gets a lot of Chinese students. I reckon not all of them are gay – but I think some of the straight Asian boys would find it a lot cheaper getting their rocks off in the sauna than going out with girls. Anyway, during my final school and university years Steamworks became a kind of paradise for me. I reckon I could always tell if it was a Chinese cock coming through the glory hole. And you know what? From the taste of his cum I can tell whether the boy is from Hong Kong, Shanghai or the northern regions.”

Of course Cheng considered there might have been an element of fantasy in Basil’s account of his addiction but then he thought he might have to change his mind after the first time Basil skilfully and powerfully blew him in the sauna.

“Absolutely delicious” laughed Basil. “I tell you what Cheng, I’m going to keep those balls of yours drained as long as I’m in Shanghai.”

At first Cheng and Basil worked on series episodes that were on the co-production slate. Then one evening whilst they were eating in a restaurant called the Pink Duck, Cheng had become somewhat emotional which was quite unlike him Basil thought. Reaching across the table, Cheng had taken hold of the Australian boy’s hand and said: “You know, even although we have only known each other for a very short time I feel I can trust you – just as if I had a brother.”

At first Basil didn’t really know whether Cheng was alluding to their work or their blossoming sexual relationship. But then later on in the evening they had gone to drink rice wine in a small bar around the corner from the restaurant. It was here that Basil first heard about the human organ harvesting industry that operated throughout China. Cheng had told him that members of the Falun Gong sect were routinely abducted and taken to hospitals where their eye corneas, hearts, livers or kidneys would be cut out of them whilst they were still alive. They were given no anaesthetic, just blood thinners and muscle relaxant. It was thought that the organs would be much fresher and healthier if they were taken from the bodies of the victims whilst they were still alive.

At first the Falun Gong sect had been encouraged by the Chinese authorities. But after it became the fastest growing organisation in the world the Communist Party changed its attitude and so the harvesting began.

Murderers and other criminals condemned to death were also made to give up their vital organs but there weren’t nearly enough of these to satisfy the demand from wealthy Chinese or ‘organ tourists’ from around the world. Apart from that, condemned criminals often had diseased vital organs that were unsuitable for transplanting.

Falun Gong members believed in such Buddhist principals as tolerance and truthfulness. They also believed in healthy diets and abstention from cigarettes and alcohol; they were also enthusiastic about exercise regimes and this made their vital organs even more desirable.

At first Basil had been incredulous; how could this be happening? And then he laughed – surely this was a fantastic story outline that Cheng had put together for some horror movie he was going to produce?

Cheng had snorted and then taken a gulp of his rice wine. “Basil my friend, let me ask you a simple question. If you were in Australia and the doctors decided you needed a heart transplant how long would it take?”

“Well as far as I know, we have a pretty advanced organ donor system. But you know, the organs are only taken after the patient has died – maybe in a car smash or something like that. How long would it take to get a new heart? Well several months or a year maybe. But then perhaps it might take longer than that to find a matching heart so in some cases, unfortunately, the patient dies.”

“Are you aware that if you were in the market for a new heart here in Shanghai you could have the operation within ten days? If you had the money to pay for it of course. I believe there are about a thousand transplants carried out a month in this city alone.”

“But that’s incredible!”

Cheng pulled out his smart phone and showed Basil a web site – it belonged to the Shanghai State Infirmary and it offered new kidneys, hearts or livers within a week. Two weeks for eye corneas.

After he’d ordered some more wine Cheng then outlined his plan – he wanted to make a television series which would expose and hopefully destroy the organ harvesting racket.

Basil admitted to being awe-struck; how could such a series be made? And working on it would certainly be very dangerous. Whether it was government figures or criminals behind the ghastly trade, there could be fatal circumstances if what they were up to was discovered. They could be in danger of having to ‘donate’ their own organs. And really, what did it have to do with him? He was just a young guy from Australia working on harmless television co-productions.

And yet, and yet… Basil had to admire the passion that was seething within his new friend Cheng. He also had to admit that the proposal had an epic audacity. My God, if such an expose could be produced, you had to think of the Falun Gong lives that would be saved. Hundreds of thousands of them maybe.

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Anal sex: top five facts

International Gay Guide

Anal sex – plenty say they love the intense sensation and pleasure. But many others cringe at the idea of anything other than water and soap getting near their rear end. Read all you need to know about anal sex in our top five facts

Text: Stephanie Haase

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How does it work?
When having anal sex, two things are very important: taking it slowly and using lots of lubricant. The anus, unlike the vagina, doesn’t have any natural lubrication. But if you want anal sex to be painless, you will need to make up for that with lots of lube.

Also, your partner has to be very relaxed, so the muscles around the anus aren’t tight. You should start by stroking the anus and after a while, you can slip in a finger and see how your partner likes it. If all’s good, you can put the head of your…

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FREE BOOK: The Lost Boyfriend

To my Dear Followers,

The second book in my Gay Performance series The Lost Boyfriend will be available for free downloading from Amazon Kindle on Thursday the 28th of June and Friday the 29th.

Here is an excerpt –

At long last young Jody Benson felt he was on his way to becoming a creative, investigative journalist. Hell, he’d just had a unique experience hadn’t he? In the drag queens’ dressing room at Connections gay club he’d just been inducted into one of the mysteries of drag. He’d assisted his new young drag queen friend Shane to get ready for a performance of Drag, the smash hit show which was currently showing at the club.

In order to do this Shane had inducted Jody into the mysteries of ‘Tuck and Tape.’ Jody had then carefully shaved the boy’s pubes, balls and around his boy hole. Shane had then shown Jody how his testes could be fitted into something called the inguinal canal. The boy had then demonstrated how everything was firmly taped up in the arse crack.

The young queen and Jody had obviously ‘clicked’ with each other during the procedure because whilst the student journalist had been handling his cock and balls, Shane had cracked a hard-on. Jody then had the task of dealing with the stiff cock by wanking it vigorously and then going down on it to collect the jets of hot cum in his mouth. During this part of what was supposed to be a ‘clinical’ procedure, a mysterious figure had appeared in the doorway of the dressing room. Jody thought that it might have been one of the other drag queens but Shane, who had been facing the doorway whilst shooting his load, had assured him this was not the case. No, the figure in the doorway had been an incredibly beautiful boy who’d moved with the grace of a dancer. When he was told this Jody felt cold shivers running up and down his spine. Could the elusive ‘dancer’ have been Alex his roomie from Mitchell College at the university? But how could that be he wondered? Surely young Alex would be off rehearsing with his beloved Borovansky Ballet Company? Or perhaps he would be getting ready for a performance at the Princess Theatre. Early that morning at Mitchell College Jody had suggested to his roomie that he might like to accompany him to Connections where he was going to find out how drag queens managed to conceal their boyish bulges when they were getting ready for shows. Alex had indicated that he wasn’t at all interested, he had urgent ballet rehearsals to go to.

Had the boy changed his mind and followed him to the club Jody wondered? And then had he become upset when he’d witnessed Shane the sexy young queen pumping his cum into Jody’s mouth? But why would he be disturbed by that Jody wondered? They weren’t exactly boyfriends. Hell, there was no way Jody would have a boyfriend in any case. He was straight wasn’t he? But then he had to wonder – if he was so straight why did he have the metallic taste of Shane’s cum in his mouth? Life could be so complicated.johnfaitken-72dpi-1500x2000 (19)

 

 

FREEBOOK: Sleepover Boy

Hi to my dear followers,

My recently published book in the Gay Moments series,Sleepover Boy,will be available for free downloading on January the 8th and the 9th. Here is an excerpt-

“Almost without realizing it Jamie had become something of a stalker. How many times did he really have to walk his dog Benji past that hallowed house in Selway Place where divine Christian Compton lived with his parents?

How could he possibly justify lurking in the tropical grove of Rotary Park most afternoons when Christian took his customary jog along the path that led to the lake? Oh my God, the sight of all that junk bouncing about in those loose-fitting shorts would surely drive him crazy Jamie thought. More often than not, after His Magnificence had passed, he would pull his own weapon out of his jeans for a quick wank in the shadows of the pandanas trees. On one occasion whilst he was still working his foreskin Jamie had been given a bit of a shock when a boy emerged from the shadows and offered to give him a hand. He’d politely declined.”

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Bangkok Boy Bar – a review

Bangkok Bar Boy by Richard Vohl is well written which is perhaps a little unusual for its genre. It put me in mind of Gaysia by Benjamin Law. At times the story is incredibly detailed, perhaps too much so in some areas. The book starts with a brief prologue set in Bangkok but this is followed by a long and occasionally tedious section about the author’s life as a gay man in Middle America and Los Angeles. This early part of the story becomes more interesting when the author meets Tien, a Vietnamese boy who has immigrated to live in the States. Although the writer and Tien come to love each other theirs is not a sexual relationship. They come to regard each other as ‘family.’ The family is later joined by Al, a male nurse who has come from the Philippines. Al is straight and is married (to a woman).

Eventually the author who works as a software designer decides to go on a trip to Bangkok to sample the gay life there. Again there is a lot of detail and I feel that we didn’t really need a moment-by-moment description of our story-teller’s journey on a commercial airliner.

The author books a room at the Babylon gay resort which has the biggest sauna in Thailand (and perhaps the world). Here we come to the most moving part of the story. The author ventures out to explore Bangkok’s boy bars and eventually ends up hiring a young man, Kirt, to go back to his room for sex. The American visitor and the boy become genuinely fond of each other and after several days (and nights) Richard Vohl believes that they genuinely love each other. However he faces a dilemma; if they are really in love how can he keep on paying the boy for sex? On his part young Kirt cannot conceive of giving up work.

Towards the end of his trip Richard falls in love with another boy called Golf and this time we feel they might have more of a future. When the author returns to the States Golf gives up his sex work and gets ‘legit’ work and there is a strong suggestion that he will share the author’s life.

Despite the fact that everyone who stays at Babylon receives a free day pass to the adjoining gay sauna our author only visits this facility briefly – and that’s to take a shower. There’s a hint that he disapproves of the action that goes on in gay saunas but he obviously doesn’t have any qualms about hiring boys out of bars for sex. Puzzling.

Unusually for this kind of books perhaps, the text has many photographs. The author tells us they have been taken on his cell phone and they look like it. At least a third of them are not of sufficient quality to be published. However, all on all, I feel that Bangkok Bar Boy can be recommended.

  • Reviewed by Alistair Young

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BRILLIANT BOYS: Jody and Michel

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To my Dear Followers,
My book BRILLIANT BOYS: Jody and Michel will be available for free downloading from Amazon Kindle from the 9th of October until the 11th. Here is an excerpt. I hope you enjoy reading it,

Kev

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If I do go to university in a year or two I may move into student accommodation. I was given an e-reader by the folks last Christmas and of course I’ve down loaded a lot of gay stories. Sometimes you can get them for free or borrow them. Even if you have to pay for them there are heaps of great stories that would cost you less than a cup of coffee. I’ve noticed that out there in the ether there are probably thousands of stories about gay boys attending American colleges. It seems to be a real fashion at the moment. Well many of these guys live in residential colleges and, of course, each one of them has a roommate. Or a “roomie” as they often say in the States. Well, it doesn’t matter if both boys are gay or if one of them is a screaming little twink and the other is a jock – or maybe they are both straight, you know that by the end of the story they’ll be fucking each other. I even read one story about how a college boy is given some sort of horrendous drug by a girl at a party and when he wakes up his cock has been replaced by a wet cunt. Of course his straight mates spend the rest of the story fucking his new pussy. The more I read these tales about tails the more I’m tempted to move into student accommodation when the time comes.

Now I don’t want you to think that I don’t have a boyfriend because I do. His name is Michel and he lives on his own in a squalid little room in a boarding house at Kings Cross. I adore the name ‘Michel’, it’s much sexier than our own “Michael’ which always conjures up an image for me of a boy with pimples and horn-rimmed glasses.

Michel is from the French speaking part of Belgium and he’s a poet. He’s very beautiful, with luminous green eyes, a nicely ragged blond haircut and a complexion you could die for. I think it was his beauty as well as his poetry that helped him get a double spread feature in The Australian. The publicity got him requests to do poetry readings around the town and just the other week I went to see him perform at the Wayside Chapel which is situated in Kings Cross. I could see there were lots of girls in the audience swooning over him and a couple of boys were a bit hot and bothered as well.

Michel is a kind of a refugee… he’s very bright and this would have helped him get chosen for the immigration programme although he probably didn’t let on to the officials that he wanted to be a poet.

Not long after we first met over coffee at the Wayside Chapel he told me he was straight – he probably told me that because he’d tumbled to my sexual orientation. Well most of the time you don’t have to be a Nobel Prize Laureate to work that out. But then I started to wonder about Michel when he told me that he had to have his cock and balls examined as part of the immigration process. He also told me that it was a requirement for acceptance into the programme that boys and young men had to be cut. Now this puzzled me somewhat because I knew that, although many boys are circumcised in Australia, others are intact. In fact from my own experience I would have said that a clear majority these days are uncut. However an academic researcher would probably say that my ‘sample’ was not big enough for me to make an accurate judgement. I could wish! Hah! I once shocked a friend of mine by telling him after I’d had a few too many drinks at a party that I had a target: I wanted to suck a thousand cocks off before my twenty fifth birthday. The other reason that I was slightly surprised by Michel’s revelation about his cock was that I had assumed that most Euro boys were uncut. Certainly just about all the British boys I’d been with were intact. Of course Muslim guys from Europe are another matter.

Michel was obviously very proud of his cock. He was pleased that his parents had had him cut not long after he was born otherwise he would have needed to have it done before embarking for the Land Down Under. He imagined that it could have been a fairly traumatic experience for a nineteen year old. Michel told me that his cock head was very smooth and you couldn’t really see any veins on the shaft. I was tempted to ask him to give me a look but then I remembered that we were in the coffee shop at the Wayside Chapel and it wouldn’t have seemed appropriate somehow. However my heart skipped a beat when Michel invited me back to his room.

I’ve always loved Kings Cross. Of course it’s the sinful heart of Sydney and these days you have to look out for yourself. A friend of mine was recently mugged by an out of it guy in broad daylight who threatened to inject him with AIDS if he didn’t hand over his money. The boisterous bars are always buzzing and the night clubs roar on far into the night. There’s a gentler side to the Cross as well. Older people will tell you that in the nineteen fifties it was like a quaint bohemian village with bearded philosophers and artists playing chess in the cafes. Even today there are artists who offer their work on the sidewalks.

As you weave your way through the congested, blaring streets, every now and then visions will open up before your eyes of the great city business towers in the distance, the multi-sailed opera house or sparkling vistas of the harbour. And of course – looming over everything, the Sydney Harbour Bridge. As we threaded our way through the Cross we passed groups of hookers; these were the more desperate ones who offer their wares in broad daylight. Most of them knew me by sight and had probably given up on me but as we trundled along one or two of them gave Michel their pitch. He didn’t even look at them and it crossed my mind to wonder why this gorgeous creature didn’t have a girlfriend.