As soon as I walked through the door, I knew something was wrong. By the way my name is Sunny, well that's what most people call me. Not my real name of course but I think it suits me so I'll stick with it.

Sameeha is my best mate. I've known her since school. It's all very complicated, you know how it it, but she is related in a vague sort of way through various marriages and so on. There's never been anything between us although I think our families did have hopes. I always managed to keep just the right distance and always had a tale to tell her about my latest conquest.

I had to change a few details, naturally, so John became Joanna and Peter became Petra but most of the other details were correct. She joked with me that I would never settle down and if I was a woman, slut might be the term that applied to me. 

Now I'm not a slut, but I do enjoy myself and I've no reason yet to find mister right and settle into domesticity. Of course Sameeha thinks it's Miss right I need but as I said, I'm good at keeping secrets and that is one great big one I am not going to reveal to anyone.

The party was to celebrate Sameeha's engagement. Her parents had come up with a boy who seemed just right. Good looking, educated, British passport, the lot. Sameeha had been dead set against any kind of arranged marriage but agreed to take a look to keep Mama and Papa happy and, bang, she couldn't believe her eyes. This one was incredible and it was love at first sight, just like in the movies.

He sent her flowers, rang her up, brought chocolates for her mother and slipped her father the odd pack of 200 cigarettes. The romance went at the speed of an electric train and now they were to marry. All this in three months. Sameeha's mother and father couldn't believe their luck. getting a daughter married is one of the most stressful events in the lives of an Asian couple. It produces heart attacks, divorce,violence, well you know typical Bollywood stuff.

I'd never met her husband to be, I only knew his name, Imran. He was 28, and accountant and lived somewhere in East London where he had his own flat. Now in our community,28 is pushing it a bit for a man to get married, but hey, I'm 24 and I've managed to escape so what the hell. Still he is supposed to be a dish and to have managed to stay single till 28 is quite and achievement. Must ask him his secret.

As soon as I saw him I didn't have to ask. I knew this guy. Not only that I didn't only know him I really knew him right down to the small scar in the middle of his back. I'd noticed it when he lay naked underneath me in my bed sit off the Edgware Road  about three years earlier. I'm not sure he recognised me, but I'm good with faces even when I've known so many. This one is good looking, that's what attracted me when I picked him up at closing time in a gay pub in Charing Cross Road late one night

We shook hands and I thought, 'he doesn't recognise me'. Typical. The best looking ones never notice who they are with. I did sense he was eyeing me up, you know the way guys do. Is he, isn't he, will he, won't he. So he hasn't changed. Poor Sameeha, she's hooked herself a queen or rather he's hooked her. Now it clicked. twenty eight, getting on a bit, lots of questions, pressure so find a girl, sweep her off her feet, tuck her up in a little house, give her a baby if you can get a hard on that is, and then buggar off carrying on as usual.

The bastard ! Trouble is what can I do. If I tell her, she probably won't believe it and I'll have to tell her about myself as well. Then the whole family will know and my secret will be out after all that careful work covering it up. If I face him with it and tell him to leave Sameeha alone, he'll get his own back in some way, accountants in my experience always do.

I was so shaken up inside I just did not know what to do or say. So I took the cowards way out and left them to it, slipping away to my mate Roger's house where I curled up in bed beside him and lost myself in some fantastic sex. Roger was quite suprised. he told me many times I was unadventurous sexually but this time he was quite astounded at the improvement since our last bedroom romp. He accused me of having a new lover, someone who had been teaching me new tricks. I told him the whole story and asked him what I should do.

I didn't sleep that night with worry. Poor Sameeha. I knew many guys who had covered up by marrying. Mostly they were pretty miserable living double lives, always afraid of giving their real names to anyone or their phone number. Afraid of being seem with someone or in the wrong place. Afraid of gossip and in most cases of other gay asian men. The idiots didn't seem to realise another gay asian man is in the same boat they are in and pulling the plug will drown both of them. Even I could work that out.

I decided to face it out with Imran. I asked Roger to help. He's very butch and masterful and I was sure Imran would go for him so I managed to find Imran's address and Roger hung around one afternoon hoping he would bump into him. He did, very quickly. Imran slipped out to go to the newsagents and Roger followed him. As Imran came out of the shop, Roger asked him for directions to a nearby road.

Now Roger is very good at chatting people up and sure enough he got inside Imran's flat and into Imrans bed. Now that wasn't in the plan but as Roger pointed out, he never turned down a fuck and it did prove one way or the other which cricket team, Iran batted for. They batted for a long time apparently during which Roger did manage to ask him about marriage and Imran quite simply admitted he was about to get married to cover up.

When Roger told me, I gasped. 'There' I said, 'I knew it. The rotten bastard, I'll kill him' Roger was smiling and waited for me to cool down.

'You haven't heard the best bit' he said with a big smile ' This will really blow your mind'

'Go on' I said, 'tell me. He's on the game as well and got an MP as a lover'

'Not quite' Roger said softly ' He is a good fuck as you well know, and he could earn good money but no, it's even more interesting.'

'Tell me' I cried out 'Just tell me'

'Well' Roger said slowly, 'It is a cover up but there are two people involved.'

'Two' I queried not really grasping the obvious

'Two' he repeated. 'Man and wife, Queer and Dyke'

'Smeeha ? a Dyke ?' I gasped

Roger confirmed it pointing out that I didn't know my best friend as well as I thought any more than she knew me. Imran and her had actually known each other for some years and getting fixed up suited them both perfectly. They even thought they might have children eventually. 

I could not believe it. Why hadn't she told me. We could have worked out something ourselves. I would have liked a kid with her. She was my best mate and now this rotten handsome bastard was stealing her away. I felt betrayed, jealous and Roger laughing like a drain didn't help. I decided never to trust women again. I still have a problem though. She doesn't know that I know and she doesn't know that I'm like I am so how do I tell her. And after they are married, would fucking her husband be acceptable seeing as how it is a cover up or would that be playing too near to home.

Roger says I'm just a silly drama queen and that after we had had another good session in his queen sized bed. I'm beginning to like Roger. Perhaps we could settle down. We could always adopt.

by Kamal "Mandy"

I mostly do my shopping in Southall High Street. I can get everything I need and I enjoy the atmosphere and bustle. I also enjoy the men. Everywhere you look there they are.

I'm Kamal by the way, British born and bred and just twenty one. So why am I shopping, not the sort of thing a young man from a good home should be doing surely ? Well perhaps not but as I said, I enjoy it and  if I didn't do it, no-one else would. I live alone, see and not in Southall. 

I've got a flat, well glorified studio over Acton way. I was born in Coventry and left at the tender age of nineteen after my dad found me in bed naked with the milkman. Well he wasn't really the milkman but I had had fantasies about him as well. It was a driver who worked at the Jaguar plant where I had a job in the despatch office. Boring yes, but think of all those guys working on the production line.

Dad came home early and there we were going at it like mad things with my truck driver almost squashing the life out of me as be drove like a mad thing along the centre lane.  Dad had a fit and threw me out and I took the first coach to Victoria coach station.

Best decision I ever had made for me, as far as I am concerned. As luck would have it on the coach, who should sit next to me but a young queen I had seem at a couple of cottages in the city. Seems she was from the smoke and invited me to stay with her until I found a place.

I think she fancied me, but lovely creature that she was, she wasn't really my type. I told her straight and she just laughed and told me not to worry but said if I brought trade back I should pass it on to her when I had finished with it. Cheeky cow, find your own I said but She just smiled and said that man stealing was her forte so I'd better watch my back.

The guy in the veggie shop was watching my back as well. He was a dark skinned turban guy, with a black shirt and tatty but tight jeans. He was carting sacks of onions out from the back for the onion hungry housewives to grab and lug home. God knows why they need so many onions, but a bargain is a bargain, I suppose.

He smiled at me and nodded his head towards the back of the shop. I followed him through the door into a cavern full of sacks,boxes and a smell of ripe fruit and veg. I was hardly through the door when he grabbed me and had his hand between my legs, cupping my instantly erect  manhood.

'Up there' he hissed and I saw a staircase almost hidden by the sacks. He released his hold and followed me up into an upstairs room which was again filled with sacks. The only light came through a grubby window and the only sounds, the traffic in the street outside.

He grabbed me again and tore at my belt, undoing it with great skill. In seconds he had my pants down at my ankles and was lifting my sweat shirt over my head. I kicked off my shoes and stood naked. I pondered the implications. I was in the centre of a busy shopping area and a total stranger I had only smiled at five minutes earlier had now stripped me and was about to do god knows what to my poor defenceless body.

He held me and he smelt of vegetables, sweat and man. I found the hardness of his body underneath his tee shirt irresistible. and ran my hands up inside to feel thick hair covering the hard muscles. I squeezed his nipples and felt him shudder. I lifted his shirt over his head and exposed broad shoulders, deep chest and a slightly rounded stomach.

I guessed he was about forty or just a bit older. No problem there. Older men are my thing. Now I wanted to see everything he had especially what was causing the bulge in his torn denims. He had other ideas and he laid me down on top of a sack and from somewhere produced two small packets. One turned out to be a condom and the other some lube. This guy was no fool and he was prepared.

I wondered how many other young virgins had lost their cherry on these sacks over the years. I even notice a towel neatly folded and hidden behind one sack. Organized ! Not that I was a virgin of course but I was young and pretty, or so I'm told every time I look at myself in the mirror.

He gave me the condom and said, 'put it on'. Now I was baffled, I wasn't the type but he saw my confusion and said 'on me' I breathed a sigh of relief and sat up. I opened the buttons on his jeans pulled them down and then removed the remarkably clean cotton boxer shorts. I rolled the condom on just as kids are shown at school with a banana. It was a tight fit.

He handed me the packed of lube which he had opened with his teeth. I let some of the liquid fall onto the tip of his member and worked it down with my hand noting the twitching my action caused. I used the rest on myself, working it well in with my finger as I lay back and my fruit and veg man lowered himself on top of me, lifting my legs to make it easier for him to gain access.

His dark hairy skin smelt wonderful against my fairer smooth brown version. I though how varied our skin colours are although we are all lumped together under one banner, 'Asian' or even wider 'black' I wondered where he came from. Probably the far north. Well with the turban it had to be. I'd always liked the turbaned guys. They all seemed to me to be big, tall and well built and very masculine. I'd not had one before but I had fantasized, in my bed, alone with just my right hand.

Now my fantasy was coming true and it was better than I could have ever imagined. He was skilled at what he did. The towel, the condom and the lube all to hand showed this wasn't a one off. I was one more in a line of young men providing him with relaxation in between humping onions for little tubby ladies. I didn't mind. He could do whatever he wanted and he did, now slow and gentle, no fast and furious, his rounded stomach pressing against me hard as he moved in and out, in and out until he went in deep and shuddered, his whole body jerking. My own body followed seconds later and sweat mixed with my fluids and the small of onions and fruit. Wonderful.

He withdrew, slowly and stood up. His face looked softer and he leaned over me and kissed me on the lips, his roughly shaven face giving me shivers through my whole body. He dressed quickly and I pulled on my clothes. He helped me down the stairs, through the stock room and into the shop.

A man at the till looked over. He was younger but also very masculine. He smiled. My onion shifter whispered to me. 'He likes you. He knows what we do. Come again tomorrow, he will be here. His turn to do the hard work. He very good' 

I looked him in the face and he was smiling. I was hooked. I knew that he and his partner had a new customer. I thought about how far it was all removed from bars and clubs, contact ads and towpaths. It had lasted half an hour but seemed like for ever.

Out in the street, I got caught up in the crowd before diving into a large store selling all kinds of provisions. as I picked up a pack of Garam Masala. my eye caught the eye of a beautiful guy filling a shelf. He smiled and came over. ' Is there anything special you are looking for' he asked and to my shame I have to admit that I did say 'Of course, what do you have as I brushed my hand against the bulge in his denims.

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The Trouble with Hari
by K.Mathews

Oh my God, it's my bloody cousin Hari.  What the bloody hell is he doing here. Now I'm really buggared. Quick into the toilet and hide in a cubicle.

That's it in here. Only those two guys in the corner. Been there all night. It's a wonder Security hasn't thrown them out.

No, I'm not interested. I just want to use the cubicle, O.K. My God can't even use the bog without someone wanting to join you. Nice smile though. perhaps another time. More important things to think about now.

What is he doing here ? Perhaps someone tipped him off and he's here looking for me. He'll tell his dad and he'll tell my dad and them I'm screwed. Two years I've come here and never once, not once have I met anyone I know. Most Asians avoid the place, of course, scared of being seen. Prefer the old cottage in the park. Can't stand the place myself, stinks of piss and stale bodies.

I did use it when I was a kid, well we all did. earned a few bob from the old guys who hung around there. Ten bob to touch our willies. Money for old rope or rather young rope. Hari used to go with me. he thought it was a great joke. I quite enjoyed watching some old guy touching Hari. Sometimes they would do more than touch. That gave me a really strange feeling inside and made my own willy as stiff as a rod.

Once a guy paid me and Hari to touch each other while he watched. Hari just did it but I had a hard job hiding the fact that I was enjoying myself.

We grew out of it, of course. Hari went mad on Judo and spent most evenings down the club. He seemed to enjoy the physical sports. I enjoyed swimming mostly because of the changing rooms where I could admire the bodies. I found black guys and white guys fascinating noting the different shading on different parts of their bodies, the way the hair formed patterns unique to each body and which changed under the showers as water formed the hair into new patterns.

I once met Hari at the Judo club. They had showers there too and Hari seemed to spend a long time in there after getting a sweat up wrestling with the other guys. It did make me wonder if he found the showers as fascinating as I did. But then I dismissed it from my mind.

It was through swimming, I met Mike. Mike was eighteen, same age as myself. He was in the polo team and had a classic swimmer's body. Swimming they say develops every muscle in the body. It certainly produces a beautiful shape which makes guys who go in for so called body building, look deformed.

Mike and me teamed up and went everywhere together and one night, Mike confessed to me that he wanted to touch me. It happened in his bedroom while his parents were out. We had watched a video and were just sitting on the bed. Five minutes later, we were kissing and wrestling with each other. It was frantic, like a champagne bottle being opened with foam spurting everywhere.

From then on things changed between us. We sought every opportunities to be alone together, mostly in his bedroom or mine, but sometimes in the bushes in the park or in a changing cubicle at the baths, very exciting and dangerous. It was Mike who introduced me to the Green Parrot. Outside it looked much like any other pub but inside it heaved with men with just one thing on their minds.

We started to go there every Saturday night and I soon found that guys like me and I liked them. I hardly saw Hari although he did stay over at our house sometimes and because there were not enough beds, mum shoved him in with me. 'I'm sure you two boys won't mind sharing' she said. It's pretty common in Indian houses this family thing. So sharing a bed at such times is pretty normal. Pushed up against Hari in a single bed, I couldn't help getting aroused. When I turned over and Hari was pressed against me, I could feel he was aroused as well.

I decided to be straight up about it. 'Hari', I said 'It's pretty obvious we both need to relieve ourselves'

Hari smiled. I could see his face in the light of the moon which filtered into the bedroom. 'Yeah, he said, I do feel randy and no chick in sight' I coughed. ' Yeah sure, what we need is two chicks'

Hari smiled again. 'I had a mate who was in the nick' he said 'No chicks, OK but lot's of randy guys. Only one thing for it'

I tried not to get excited and stay cool. 'You mean they used each other'

'Sure' he said, 'some played the role of chick and the others, well they took the man's part. Happens all the time, in prison. Once they leave they go back to the chicks. It's just nature'

I felt myself almost bursting 'You mean, it's nothing to do with being gay, just normal'

'Of course, men need things. go crazy if they don't get it. No chicks, use your mate. help each other out'

'Like we could ?

'Well I was thinking perhaps we could try it'. 

'Who plays the chick.'

'We toss for it'

'What with ?'

'Well what do you suggest ?'

I felt his body now pressed really hard against me. In answer, I slipped down my underpants and reached for a tube of cream I kept on the bedside table. Without speaking I greased myself and then guided him inside me.

It was quick but good. Afterwards I panicked. Had I offered myself too easily. I was surpassed when Hari turned over, took the tube of cream, greased himself and guided me into him.

'Only fair' he said afterwards.

We slept without touching, two heterosexual men who had helped each other out as mates should. The problem is, I couldn't sleep. I knew Hari's body was there and I wanted more of it but I couldn't have it without admitting what I was. Hari would never understand.

We were forced to sleep together again a few times after that and every time we just smiled and repeated our performance. I had a feeling that Hari even arranged to have to stay the night but I dismissed the idea. Hari was too straight and had even talked of getting engaged to a girl from Wembley.

Now he was here in the Green Parrot, and I was hiding in the cubicle of the toilets. I heard someone come in and go into the next cubicle. The door closed. Next thing I noticed was something coming through a hole drilled in the partition between the cubicles. I could not believe it but I recognised it as belonging to Hari. My cousin, my oh so straight cousin Hari was sticking his erect organ through the hole in a toilet wall inviting a total stranger to do with it as he wished.

I'll whack it one, teach him a lesson. No I won't, let's have a bit of fun. See how you like this lover boy. I ran my tongue along the whole length and heard soft moans from the other side of the wall. Then I took the whole thing in my mouth and gave the best blow job I had ever given. When it was over, I came out of the cubicle and waited for Hari to emerge from the other cubicle

The look on his face would have sunk a battleship. He was scared, shit scared. How could he explain what he was doing in a place like this, the notorious haunt, as the police always put it, of practising homo sexuals. He recovered a little.

'Fancy seeing you here' he said in a choking voice. 'didn't know you played for the other side'

'No' I said, 'I play for the same side as you. All that codswallop about prisoners doing it because there were no chicks, just an excuse wasn't it ?'

Hari nodded. 'You going to tell anyone ?'

'Tell anyone, why would I. We are both in the same boat and now we know it'

'Great blow job' he smiled Always fancied one from you'

''Well now we can have even more fun when you stop over, can't we' I replied sarcastically, 'Come on you old tart, I'll buy you a pint.

Hari and I are best of mates now. We're planning to move to a flat of our own soon. And Mike, well I introduced him to Hari and now the three of us get on really well if you know what I mean. Funny old world, really 

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Ghosts at the wedding
by R.Khan

It was a big wedding. Posh church, lots of incense, poncy priest, lots of chaps in toppers and black suits, women in ridiculous hats, you know the sort of thing.

Reception at a five star, things on sticks, scampi, very posh, daft speeches, over the top cake and Roger, my Roger.

I don't know why he invited me, it was taking a risk. I stood out like a sore thumb. My dark skin, slim body and black hair, who could fail to notice me among all these fat, nordic warriors as I nursed my orange juice watching all around me cheap champagne being poured down open mouths like Sanilav down a hundred toilets.

I sound bitter don't I. Well of course I'm fucking bitter. Roger is mine and this anorexic scarecrow has taken him off me. Look at her. Skin and bone, horsey teeth and no dress sense whatsoever. Whoever designed her wedding dress couldn't design a tent for Billy Smart's Circus. I would have made her look beautiful even if she is a bitch and I hope Roger bruises every inch of his body trying to make love to the bag of bones she calls her body.

Of course, I'm fairly slim but I'm nicely covered. The muscle isn't obvious but it's there and gives a hardness to the touch. Roger called me his brown angel. Bastard !  Well now he has a white devil and good luck to him. If I never see him again, it will be too soon. I will let my seed spill onto white sheets instead of into the man I loved. Or perhaps into the first man I meet in the steamy shadows of a seedy sauna. 

A thing in pale blue chiffon has tried to make conversation with me. Very English. What she really wanted to know is who I am and what I am doing at this oh so posh, classy, English wedding. I wanted to tell her I was Roger's bit on the side but that wouldn't be true. She wouldn't believe the truth so I told her he was my boss, that was true, that I'd worked for him for four years, true again. I didn't tell her about the flat or the big, soft warm bed. Nor about the mirrors on the wall where we could watch our lovemaking, note that, lovemaking not shagging or having it off or any other crudities, lovemaking.

I didn't tell her how much he liked my byriani or the delicate flavour of the dahl soup I made to welcome him home. Yes home, we had a home. Still do except now it will become something else. 

He's told me he still loves me and wants things to go on as they are. It's not only us poor brown souls who have arranged marriages he said. Well he didn't use those words but that's how I heard them. Marriage of convenience is how he put it. The bone bag's family were rich and Roger needed money to expand his business.

Roger really is a bastard. I didn't know anything about what was going on until about three months before the wedding. At first I thought it might work out. I knew lots of Indian friends with arranged wives and bits on the side, male and female. But this is our culture and theirs is not the same.

Oh sure they are unfaithful, one in three ends in divorce, there is wife swapping and so on but they do get very uptight when same sex raises it's head. Shock, horror. Screw as many whores as you like and you are a big man and little wifey forgives you and your company's shares go through the roof because shareholders are happy to have a real man running things.

But get caught with your pants down with a member of the same sex and it's. oh dear, well we always knew he was a bit of a perv, shame really, it's all the public schools and loony left you know. Throw in a brown skin and the whole thing  goes into overdrive.

So I've decided, it's goodbye Roger. Take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife for better or, hopefully, for worse, father a load of nauseous upper class pratts who I hope get buggared senseless at Eton. Phone up for a rent boy at a hundred quid a go when you get frustrated and remember that what you are paying good money for to have inside you, you once had given freely with love.

So there it is, over. Stick insect is off to change ready for her honeymoon in Bermuda. I hope the legends about that triangle thing are true. And Roger, Roger is coming over to me. Oh my god what can I say. I don't want to embarrass him but I hate the bastard. 

He shakes my hand. It's soft and warm. This hand which has touched my body so often, so lovingly. His arm is round my neck, just the way it is when he sleeps beside me. He is hugging me. Why does he do this. I hate him. his mouth is close to my ear.

'Don't worry' he says, it will be all right, you'll see. Nothing will really change, I promise. It's you I love, no-one else. You'll see.

He walks away smiling and my heart is pounding and my organ erect and bigger than  the Eiffel Tower. God, I hope it doesn't show. Two weeks before I see him, before he is lying beside me again. I look around and see happy people and I am one of them. Only our reason for happiness is different.

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CYCLONE LOVER
Written by Ken Mathews  ©2001

Mark watched the palm trees bending a little in the warm gentle breeze. Only a few days before a cyclone had swept through the town, blowing down the man made hoardings with their grinning film stars, giant images of the latest television sets and refrigerators. A few electricity cables had also fallen but already replaced haphazardly looping their way from building to building.

Mark had was just returning to his room when the wind had started gathering speed. The rooms all faced the sea and the man on the gate had warned him to get inside. As he turned into the stairwell leading to the first floor, he saw a young man taking shelter under the steps.

He thought he recognized him as one of the gardeners who constantly swept and tended the plants which struggled to survive in the salty air.He couldn't be sure, but still Mark stopped and asked him if he was Ok

The man seemed to understand and nodded. He was wearing just a thin lunghi and Mark felt sorry for him exposed to the wind which was already starting to carry rain.

He indicated to the man to follow him. He was reluctant indicating that he would be perfectly all right under the stair well. Mark hesitated then took the man's arm and insisted he come upstairs. Slowly smiling, the young man followed mark up the stairs and along the open balcony. Mark stopped in front of his door and opened it with his key. The man was reluctant to go inside but Mark stood not moving until he did.

Inside Mark closed the door. The wind was building up speed fast. Already some loose bins in the gardens had blown noisily against a wall. The man looked uneasy. Mark offered him some cola from the plastic bottle he kept and the man accepted  and slowly sipped the sweet brown liquid.

Marks clothes were already damp and he stripped off his shirt. The man looked at Mark and Mark noticed his hand touching the front of his Lunghi. He smiled and seemed to gain a confidence which was missing outside. He moved towards Mark and put his hand out touching Mark's smooth white skin.

Mark didn't move. He knew something was happening and he wasn't sure how to handle it. He wasn't a virgin, he had had sex with a few girls but nothing serious. His experience with men consisted of a little fumbling in the showers at school, little more. Now at 23 he knew something was happening he had not expected but which excited him.

The man ran his hands over Marks body sending shivers through him. Mark slowly reached out with his own hand and touched the man's body. His skin was smooth, like silk and he felt immediate arousal. The man seemed to sense Mark's reaction and allowed his hand to move lower touching the bulge in Marks Cargo pants. Mark stiffened and the hand changed from a gentle touch to a firmer motion. Mark moaned and the man slowly lay him back on the bed.

Outside the cyclone was building into an even greater frenzy. Mark too felt his own cyclone inside and undid the top of his cargo pants, slipping them down. His feet were bare anyway and the man pulled them off leaving Mark naked on the bed except for a pair of simple white boxers.

The man lay over Mark and kissed him slowly pushing his tongue into Mark's mouth. His hand rubbed the side of Marks body and then went down and inside the boxers.

Mark reacted by loosening the Lunghi and pulling it down. The man stood for a moment, the Lunghi dropping to the floor. He stepped out and slipped off his own Y fronts. Mark looked at the young body. Same age as me, he thought but dark brown and different. On the tip of the man's erection was a bead of white liquid.

Mark began to panic. He thought of condoms and then remembered a mate had given him some before he set off from England. They were in his toilet bag by the side of the bed. He reached over and took one out. The man smiled as he did so and took it from Mark

The wind now was howling and everywhere had gone dark. The man's body was pressing on top of Mark, rubbing against him and Mark felt like he was bursting. The two men kissed again, this time as wildly as the wind, reflecting it's energy. the man was strong and well muscled under the smooth skin. He smiled again at Mark and turned hiM onto his stomach, pulling is legs apart. he felt the man's finger touch him between the cheeks of his firm, rounded bottom, probing gently and stirring feelings Mark hardly knew he had. 

The finger was wet, the man had used some saliva and it slowly went inside Mark exploring, stimulating until Mark wanted to feel more. He reached back and held the man's erection touching the end with his thumb. The man shuddered  and then there was a pause and Mark heard the rustle of the foil being torn on the condom. Seconds later he felt the erection pushing inside him. It took time but soon all of the man was inside him and as the wind howled even more the quiet young man from the garden turned into a wild lover, his dark brown skin contrasting with the white of Mark's body as he thrust  into him with ever increasing wildness.

Mark felt himself coming and just as he did the man also came and their shouts were drowned by the wind outside now blowing at full force..

They lay afterwards, naked on the bed, both exhausted and eventually fell into sleep. In the morning, outside the cyclone had subsided. The palm trees had survived, a little bent and a few branches torn off but still surviving. The man was the first to move. He went into the bathroom, filled a bucket with cold water and poured it over himself using a small plastic jug.

Mark could see him from the bed and thought that he had never seen anyone so beautiful. He joined the man and they shared another bucket of water, soaping each other and enjoying each other's beauty. The man dried himself first and put his Lunghi back on. What a fantastic garment Mark thought, so easy to remove and replace. The man kissed him and then slipped out of the door.

Not a word had been exchanged between them and over the next two days the man seemed to have disappeared.   Mark looked for him but in his heart he knew that his cyclone lover was a one time affair. Now as he sat on the balcony of his room watching the sun setting, he thought he would never reach such a point of contentment again. 

Then he saw him. His lover strolling in the evening sun with a pretty young girl and two well dressed young children. The man wearing a light weight western suit, turned and waved to him. Mark waved back and then realized this was no gardener. The young man had waited for him the previous night having watched him go to his room at the same time each evening. At first he was shocked, then he smiled. What did it matter, the man would always be the gardener in his memory and fantasies. 

Mark often went back in later years to the same guest house. He never met the gardener again although he did relive his fantasy with other willing bodies many times. But without the cyclone, it was never the same.He wondered if his lover ever thought of him or if he had just been a novelty, a bit of white trade, hunted and used and discarded. He hoped not but with India who knows.

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DOUBLE BOOKING
By 'Dilip'

  Raj sighed with relief  as he finished unpacking at the smart hotel in Bombay.He had just stripped down to his boxer shorts ready to take a shower when he heard a strange noise at the door. There was a series of clicks, as though someone were putting a keycard in the slot, and then he heard a male voice swearing. A moment after that, the door opened.

  "Um, excuse me," Raj said, startled. as he glanced around in futility,looking for something to cover himself.

  The man who had just let himself into Raj's room looked just as surprised.    He let his garment bag slip off his shoulder. "This was supposed to be my room," he said awkwardly, holding out his key card. "The hotel must have made a mistake.Look the number is correct, room 302"

  Raj shrugged. "It's not the end of the world. We'll call the front deskand get it straightened out." The desk clerk informed them that the hotel was fully booked and apologised for the error and offered to get the guest into a nearby hotel.

Raj looked at the man who was young, well built and had a soft gentle smile and sparking eyes.  After considering for a moment, and never being one to pass over on opportunity, Raj extended his hand to
the other man. "I'm Raj. Why don't you stay here tonight? There's plentyof room," he said, gesturing towards the king-sized bed. "That is if you don't mind sharing a bed."

  "That's really nice of you. I'm Ali." The man replied " I'm from a fairly simple background. We shared beds as kids all the time. It's no problem now"

They spent an amicable evening watching sports on TV and getting through a few beers from room service. and then went to bed. Raj was just drifting off to  sleep when he felt the bed shift as Ali moved closer. He could feel the distinct sensation of Ali's erection brushing over his ass. He held still for  a moment, aroused. He had hoped this would happen but now it had he wasn't sure how to react.His own cock grew instantly hard and he took a deep breath, moving his hand around his back and grasping Ali's cock.

  "Oh yes," Ali moaned, pushing his hips forward, feeding his cock into Raj's fist. Raj grew bolder, turning over and holding Ali's prick firmly in his hand, jerking it the same way he would his own dick. Alireached over and moved down Raj's boxer shorts, releasing the erection that Raj had sported as soon as he had felt Ali's prick against his ass.

  The men jerked each other quickly, their hands rubbing over each other's  pricks. Raj felt Ali's cock growing even stiffer in his hand, and he squeezed back against it, feeling the stiff rod pulsing against his fingers. Ali thrust his hips up, fucking Raj's fist.

After a few minutes, Raj felt Ali's cock throb, and warm cum spilled over his hand.    Ali gasped in pleasure and kept moving his hand over Raj's dick until Raj reached his own climax, spurting his spunk high in the air. There was jism all over both their hands and stomachs, making the sheets sticky. Theyfell asleep, still holding each other's cock.

  Late in the night, just before the sun started to peek through the window, Raj woke up with another hard-on. He shifted, noticing that Ali was awake, and just as hard as he was. "Ready for another round?" Raj whispered.

  Ali smiled in the darkness. "What did you have in mind?" Raj leaned over and pushed the sheet back, exposing Ali's stiff prick, which was still sticky with his cum. He opened his mouth and took a deep breath before pushing his lips down around Ali's shaft. Ali groaned in pleasure. Raj swirled his tongue around Ali's cockhead, tasting the salty remains of his spunk. As he sucked, he stroked his own cock.

  The heady smell of Ali's jism and sweaty balls turned Raj on, and he sucked more eagerly, saliva dripping down Ali's cock. Raj groaned, pouring out his second load of cum onto the sheets, and sucking even harder on Ali's prick. Ali gave an answering grunt of delight and shot his load into Raj's mouth, coating his tongue with the warm, salty fluid. 

  They fell asleep again, and when they woke in the morning, they showered together, both getting erections in the process. "Once more " asked Ali and Raj turned and felt Ali rub his prick against his butt while holding his prick firmly in a soapy hand. They moved together and came again together.

Clean and freshly showered, Ali said he had an early morning meeting.and had to leave."Well," Ali said, shaking Raj's hand as he left. "I guess we should be grateful for that little hotel mix-up."

After he left, Raj ordered breakfast in his room and then a little late packed and went to reception to check out. he rang the bell and the receptionist came from a small side room. Raj nearly fell through the floor, it was Ali, a big smile on his face.

"Did you enjoy your stay, sir" he asked

 "I certainly did," Raj said, still a little dazed..

"Then come again and recomend me, I mean us to your friends" Ali said, stamping the bill and handing it to Raj. " We always aim to please our special guests"

Raj is now a regular visitor to the hotel and when Ali is busy sometimes with another special guest, it seems another young man always seems to get double booked. I'm afraid however the name of the hotel slips my mind but one day you may find it and when you do just ask for Ali.

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funny games
By A.J.B.

How many times have you looked at guys, in the street, on the checkout of Tesco, sitting opposite in the underground and thought 'if only'. Oh, by the way, my name is Dave, I'm twenty and most of the time I'm as horny as hell so when a young Indian guy sat opposite me in the tube, legs wide apart and his hand resting on his crutch, I started to get a little worked up. I could not help noticing that he was making very small but definite movements with his thumb, the sort I make when I'm jerking off in the bathroom.

His eyes too kept catching mine and were teasing me. First a look down then a look straight at me, them another look down. I just did not know ehere to look but I was aware that the swelling in my own denims was becoming rather obvious. I tried to pull my jacket over to cover it and when I looked up, the Indian guy had a slight smile on his lips telling me he knew just what I was doing. 

The train stopped and the few remaining  passengers got out leaving just the two of us facing each other. As the doors closed, he slipped his hand inside the track suit he was wearing a then pulled out his erect dick. He just said two words, 'suck it'

I could hardly believe this was happening but with a quick look round I thought what the hell and went down on my knees swallowing up every inch. He came quickly pulling himself out of my mouth and leaving his hot liquid all over my face. he slipped his dick back into his track suit and then offered me a tissue.

I felt absolutely wonderful and wanted only one thing, to take this sexy creature home to bed with me and make love to him all night. The train stopped at the terminus and the doors opened. We got out together and I asked him straight out to come back to my place. He asked where it was and when  told him he said, funny I was thinking of asking you back. I live there as well.

I know it sounds silly playing games like this but we both enjoy it. We have done it since we first met two years earlier. It turns us both on. Tomorrow, we play another of our favourites, strangers meeting in a bar and in seconds being all over each other. Makes other guys dead jealous. Great.