A Canadian in China (Part 6)

When I wrote my very first story all about Badboy, I sure had no idea I would have so much more to write about. I'm sure as hell not complaining!!! I hope someone is enjoying these stories. It is fun for me to write them because I have no one with whom I can share these wonderful experiences. To think, back in Canada I was almost celibate except for the very odd occasion when I picked up a young hustler. How my life has changed and all for the good !!!

My weekend in the city was totally awesome. I returned home to my normal life which still included Badboy and his friend coming to my home very, very often. They practically lived in my home and I, of course, loved having them around. I still had a major, major crush on the beautiful kid, Badboy.

One day, I got an email from the other student in Beijing who had replied to me, telling me that he would be at home during Spring Festival time and would not therefore, be in Beijing when I would be there. It was cool to hear from him so I responded. This was the beginning of very frequent email exchanges. Ted, the one I traveled almost 6 hrs. to meet, emailed once in a very rare while but this other guy whose English name is Dave, began to email almost every other day. We exchanged pictures and, after a while, he began to say that he loved me. I couldn't really get into saying that I loved someone who I had never met but I did begin to feel a real fondness for him because he said so many really nice, sweet things. He did sound like a real sweet guy and when I took more than two or three days to reply to an email, he would be writing asking me if I am ok and telling me that he was worried about me. He is a university student and told me that when he graduates, he will be a policeman. Thinking of our system, I thought, "yeah, sure...myabe... you will be a cop. This email relationship continued for some time and, as noted, I was beginning to have some real feelings of fondness for this guy. There was one problem and that was that I did not think he was good looking. In one picture, he looked almost like an identical twin of an Iranian guy I had worked with back home. The Iranian guy was a nice person but was totally un-interesting physically, a down right ¡°turn off ¡°. So, I did not like the looks of this guy in that picture but¡­what the hell!!!! What was the likelihood of ever meeting him in person?

In the meantime, much to my chagrin, disappointment and disgust... I did it again!!!!!!!!!!!... Yes, I did it again!!!!! I molested Badboy once again. I thought, after the terrible experience of the first time, that this would never ever happen again. I was so happy to have his friendship back after that first occasion , how could I have let this happen again?? But¡­before condemning me for my amazing stupidity, please try to fully understand and appreciate the circumstances. I think you will be able to understand how this happened. Let me explain:

Badboy was alone with me this evening. We were both sitting on my short couch (loveseat) in front of the computer. He was getting very sleepy and he put his head down to my left, on the arm of the couch and stretched his legs out, right across me. The uppermost parts of his legs were resting right across my crotch. This was fine, I loved him being stretched across me and I still had no temptation or urge to do anything...until ...

A friend of mine in Canada came onto Yahoo messenger. I began to type to her and, in doing so, had to reach my arms across Badboy. After a while, very accidently, (honestly), my arm brushed over his crotch as I reached for the keyboard to type to my friend. There it was!!! Unmistaken!!! The outline of a nice very hard erection.

I could not resist exploring. I brushed over the erection again...on purpose this time of course. He did not move. I brushed again...a little harder. I was trying to see if he was awake and if he would respond. I was even trying to wake him because, if he really was sleeping and if he woke up, it would not appear as though I was trying to molest him...what, with my arm and with him stretched out across me?? I don't think so.

There was no response from him. He did not stir. Finally, I put my hand on his erect cock. Still there was no response. I squeezed very lightly ...no response. I squeezed harder and harder...no response. (Now here, you must understand my thinking...try to understand. I thought he must be awake and must feel what I am doing. I decided that maybe he decided...perhaps a long time ago...that having his cock fondled really wasn't bad...even by a man. It had been a long time since he was here alone as his best buddy always accompanied him so maybe this was his first chance to let it happen again. I truly thought that he had changed his mind and that he wanted the pleasures of being fondled...can you understand???)

Having squeezed and squeezed harder and harder, I became convinced, for reasons noted above, that he was awake and that he finally wanted this. Convinced, thusly, I got really bold and I undid the top button of his jeans and then slowly slipped the zipper down. I then pulled the front of his briefs down to expose his beautiful very, very hard cock. He did not stir. I fondled him for just a minute or two and he exploded. It was so delightful, exciting and wonderful!! I caught most of his cum on my free hand. What an amazing thrill this was for me...to see him cum and to have much of his cum on my hand!!! It was so exciting that I exploded inside my own pants. Now that is something that has not happened to me in a very, very long time. What a mess! But, it was the kind of mess I don't mind, at all. He was still "asleep", but I was more certain than ever that he was faking the sleep.

I reached out for some tissue and cleaned his cum from his cock his pubes and my hand and I then zipped up his jeans and fastened the top button. (If I had this to do over again, I would clean all the cum off my hand and his cock with my tongue and my mouth but some of the thrill of the moment had passed when I came in my own pants).

After getting him zipped and buttoned, he slowly "woke up". He got up, went to the washroom, brushed his teeth then said good night and went to bed. I went off to bed feeling very happy and thinking that maybe now, at long last, I could have some sexual play with this gorgeous boy.

The next morning, he got up and left for work saying "see you later". He seemed totally fine and happy so, I had no worries¡­..until¡­. I went to the bar after work. Badboy wouldn't even say hello to me¡­.totally ignored me. I finally asked if he was angry and he answered with "do you think I have something to be angry about??" I said we should talk, but not here. He finished work about 30 minutes later, grabbed himself a bottle of beer and we went outside into the parking lot. The conversation barely got started. He simply said that in China men do not like men for sex and that I was his best friend but it was now "over". He then smashed his full bottle of beer into the pavement and stormed off.

I was pretty surprised, upset, saddened and even angry but this time I didn't feel the devastation at loosing his friendship because I really thought that he was just as responsible. So certain was I that he knew exactly what was taking place and that he actually wanted it, that I concluded that all of his anger and apparent hatred was all just a fa?ade put on because of the guilt he would feel as a result of the Chinese culture and the Chinese attitude towards homosexual activity. I believe he was also in denial, attempting to show that he was not a "fag" and that he did not condone this kind of behavior. This, of course, is only my opinion but I believe it to be true and so I lost some of my respect and love for this gorgeous kid.

There was, however, this great fear of the horrible embarrassment that I would experience in the event that he told everyone which I feared he would do. In fact, I was terrified that he would tell all his co-workers¡­at very least he would tell his closest buddy. How else would he explain that they were suddenly not going to my home any more? What was so terrifying was that the whole damn sordid affair would get out, reach my school and I would loose my job. Needless to say, this was not a good time for me and the next few days or weeks were very tense as I continually looked for signs that someone knew.

This whole mess happened in mid March. I never went back to the bar again but I did, on occasion, see workers from the bar in the streets and was greeted very warmly by them with great hugs, handshakes and questions as to why I no longer went to the bar. A couple of the other workers even came by my home to visit. It was becoming apparent that no one knew what had occurred and as the days turned into weeks, I finally began to relax.

Meanwhile, the emails continued to come from my friend Dave.