30th Anniversary

30 years ago today, I started the journey. 

Please refer to the entry Where the Journey Began.

The Masseur

I had not visited a spa nearby for more than a week due to a busy schedule. The spa next to my home was an urban oasis for me to relax and meet with people. I felt somewhat inclined to go after dinner. While preparing the dinner, I flipped through the Xtra magazine. I couldn’t help notice a good looking masseur whose studio was located on Yonge Street not far from my place. Too bad there was mentioning of “RMT” (Registered Massage Therapist) which meant he would unlikely do anything “outside the regulatory territories.” 

Not long after arriving in Toronto, I went to have an erotic massage. It was not a bad experience but it was a little too expensive. For that price, I could visit a spa many times. That was my only erotic massage in Toronto. Before immigrating to Canada, I had a masseur in Taipei who did a happy ending for me every time. It was expensive, but I was not too concerned about money at that time, and more importantly, that was the only sexual relief I could get other than meeting foreigners in hotel gyms. It was purely accidental finding that masseur when I visited a hotel sauna not foo far from my home. I was simply curious what the sauna looked like and checked it out to see if it would be worthwhile visiting on a regular basis. 

The health centre appeared to be outdated, and was very quiet. I didn’t see any other visitor was present. As I did not go for a workout, I proceeded to the sauna area directly. It was good though being alone there. It helped me get rid of the thoughts from work. The masseur seemed to be the only staff member there. I inquired the price for a massage and decided to book for one session that night. He looked late forties, not good looking, but that was unimportant as I was looking for a pair of strong hands.

The massage was only thirty minutes, so it went very quickly. The masseur  touched almost everywhere briefly. I did notice that his hands gently touched through my inner thighs in a very ambiguous way. That did not just happen once, but a few times. I wondered if he was checking my reaction. I thought it might be a hint that he could do something more. However, it was my first visit, and I didn’t know him well, therefore I didn’t explore further what those touches meant.

One week later, I went back to that hotel health centre again. On one hand, my body was addicted to deep tissue massage. On the other hand, I had been thinking of those touches. Even though the masseur was not my type, I was really curious about what he was trying to do last time. I felt more comfortable this time when I was inside the health centre. I became familiar with the facilities and the surroundings. The masseur seemed to be delighted to see me again. I guessed he didn’t get many clients here. I told him that I would need a massage after using the sauna.

The facilities were not as good as the other hotel health centre I usually went, but I came back for finding out the secrets of those touches. In the meantime, I was hoping that I could meet with hotel guests. Alas, there was no single guest other than myself. Anyway, after a day of work, it was really nice to soak myself in a totally quiet environment, enjoying the sauna, the steam room, and resting with just a towel on. It gave me a sense of freedom. 

Finally I found myself on the massage table, enjoying the strong hands on my shoulders and back. The masseur was really good at this. When I turned over, he didn’t cover a towel on my private area as I had told him it was not necessary last time. This time I seemed to be more open than last time as I was more familiar with his touches. I could open my legs wider so that he could massage deeper to the edge of my inner thigh and balls. I felt there was certain “trust” between us when he approached that area on such an intimate level. I also sensed the way he rubbed my thighs was changing over time, gradually becoming more like foreplay, so gentle but so mysterious. His hands touched my balls from occasionally to a much more frequent level, sometimes even reaching the butthole. I didn’t know whether my facial expression had already told him to “go ahead,” but I knew he was testing to see how far he could go. 

“What would happen if this rises?” I pointed out my manhood and asked.

“If it’s up, it’s up.” He spoke in a normal tone. Then he started touching the edge of my balls even more frequently, and I let go my reservation. My manhood rose. He started caressing my balls and touched my manhood gently. Things followed to a perfect ending and that was my first paid erotic massage. After those two visits, I asked the masseur to come to my home to provide the services on a weekly basis. For a few times I touched his butt to hint that he could take off his clothes but he never did. I was not aggressive as I thought that he regarded this practice as a way of getting customers hooked but he was not interested in man-to-man fun. That routine ended after I immigrated to Canada. Quite a memory!

Over the dinner, I wondered if I should go to a spa or visiting the masseur. Finally my curiosity prevailed. I called the masseur to book a session that night. I possibly was more interested in seeing the masseur in person than receiving an erotic massage as I knew it would be unlikely. Thinking of that handsome face with his hands on my body, I was excited when he confirmed that he had time for me that night. 

It was a 5-minute walk to the masseur’s studio from my place. I was anxious when knocking the door. The door was opened. He looked exactly like the photo on Xtra. He looked like having Italian background, a little darker than most white guys, very good looking and charming, the kind of guy that turned me on immediately. The studio was not big, a small living room, a room covered by tatami with sliding doors, a study, and a room for massage. It was very Bohemian, very inspiring, a kind of place I would love to live in. 

He showed me the shower room but I said I had taken a shower just before coming. We entered the massage room, a massage table in the centre, various kinds of massage oil on a side table, candles everywhere, and meditation music in the background. I did not ask but simply took off all my clothes. He covered a towel on my butt. How disappointing! I wanted to say “Forget about the towel,” but I didn’t.

It was very comfortable lying on the massage table, clean towels smelling good, the candle light, and the meditation music, all making the moment so tranquil that I easily forgot whatever happened outside. My mind was all in that particular moment, in that studio, with him. His massage technics were not bad, but his hands were not as strong as I would like. Usually I preferred strong hands/deep tissue massage, some friends referring it to “torturing” style. His touches, however, made me quite comfortable. I felt a sense of connection with him through his touches. I couldn’t help thinking of the image that our naked bodies intertwined, hands all over the other.

“How did you know my services?” 

“From the Xtra.” That said all about my sexuality. His studio was in the Village and he placed ads on a gay newspaper. I didn’t think I would need to hide my sexual orientation. I imagined that he was gay too.

When he worked on my butt, he was carefully moving the towel to the other side of the butt, very professional. I felt like a patient on an operation table. I knew I shouldn’t expect anything more as I had to respect his profession. Besides, I had no clue how to suggest anything of more intimate nature under that circumstance.

From that first visit, I went back three times in two months. The massage was not exactly the kind I liked, but I enjoyed being touched by his hands, and we became able to talk on a more personal level. He told me that many clients wanted to have sex with him. I almost shouted it out — “I want it too,” but I swallowed the words. He continued:

“In a few occasions I did engage sex with clients, but afterwards they no longer came back simply for massage services. They seemed to deem sex as part of the massage services. Nowadays I maintain the boundaries with clients.”

“I am actually bi. I find women attractive too,” he added.

“Have you ever exchanged massage with others?” I probed.

“From time to time I exchange massage with other professionals.”

“I am good at giving massage too. I have never received any training but I seem to be born with such a gift. If you would like, I could give you a massage.” I finally threw my bait.

“That’s good to know.” 

My next visit was a Saturday afternoon. While rubbing on my back, he asked:

“What kind of massage do you do with your friends?”

“Deep tissue massage and sensual kind.” Even I tried to say the word “erotic,” I refrained.

I stressed that the sensual massage was to awaken the senses and deep feelings. I knew he was familiar with this but I tried to lead the conversation to this area. I felt intimate with him simply carrying this kind of conversation.

“Maybe you could give me a massage. I would like to know your massage style.” He said.

“Sure,” I couldn’t believe what he had just said but I replied in an ordinary tone even I was highly excited.

After he finished, we exchanged our positions. He took off his pants. That was my first time seeing him totally naked. I admired his butt as he lay on the table with nothing on. I sensed my manhood growing a little bit. I felt good about that but in the meantime I was worried that he found out. Without further thinking, I started giving him my self-claimed professional massage. 

“Not too hard,” he said. I sort of realized why I felt his hands were not strong enough for me. Other than that he didn’t say a word. When rubbing on his butt and thighs, I was so tempted to caress his balls and his perineum, but I managed to stop in the twilight zone between “professional” and “erotic” fields. He didn’t object to those ambiguous touches but he didn’t respond in a way I could interpret as an invitation for more either. However, being able to touch his body this way was already a dream come true.

The massage I gave to him lasted less than thirty minutes. After all, it was not a massage exchange. He didn’t turn around to face me through the entire session. I didn’t get a chance to look closer at his manhood. For him, it was a taste of my massage style. For me, I had other agenda.

“Would you like to go to Woody’s to have a drink with me?” When we were dressing up, he unexpectedly popped up this question.

“That sounds good.” I had no plan for the rest of the night.

We both had two beers at Woody’s. We talked a little bit more, but it was a little noisy there so we ended up looking at each other more than talking. Through two beers and being outside his studio, I felt we sort of becoming more like friends, not just in a masseur/client relationship.

“Would you like to sleep over night in the studio?” He asked.

“How about you? Where are you going to sleep? My home is not far.” I had no idea why he asked me if I was interested in staying over night in his studio.

“Usually I don’t sleep there, but tonight I might. It would be a nice change that you stay outside of your home from time to time to have a new perspective.”

“I will have to do something early in the morning tomorrow and I still have to prepare for it.” Words came out without thinking, a typical self-destructive mindset I realized later on in my life. I didn’t know what I was thinking. It would be a dream come true but I declined that opportunity immediately.

“Perhaps next time,” he said with sort of disappointment.

“Definitely,” I replied. I thought of changing my mind but I didn’t say anything further.

Another three weeks passed. I felt I would need a massage again. I thought of calling him from time to time but felt it would be inappropriate. I wondered if he had my phone number. Besides it might not be appropriate for him to call as so far I was still more like a client to him. I had been thinking of him, wondering what might have happened if I had stayed over night with him. I finally called to book for the next appointment  — on Saturday evening, of course. I hoped that he would not have another client after me. He sounded delighted to hear from me. I hoped it was not just for business.

In the middle of the massage session, I asked if he had any other appointment for the rest of the night.

“You are the last and only one of the night.” He sounded cheerful.

“Maybe I could give you a massage later on.” I hoped that he would offer me to stay overnight again afterwards.

“ That would be wonderful. I do need one.”

We didn’t say much further but I did notice that while he was massaging my inner thighs, he was more liberal than usual in touching the edge of my crotch. I felt so intense but I resisted the temptation to touch his hands. I was semi-erected under the towel but he ignored the awakening of my manhood. He continued working on the other parts of my body and I regained my consciousness from the sexual fantasies.

“Thank you. It’s great, as usual.” I continued, “It’s your turn.”

“Thank you, too. Would you mind doing massage for me in the bedroom? It’s more spacious there.” 

“Not at all.” I replied with excitement. The bedroom is a raised platform covered with tatami, very much like a Japanese room with sliding doors to separate it from the living room. 

I followed him to the bedroom naked. He took off his shirts, then pants, revealing his gorgeous naked body. He comfortably lay down on the tatami covered with a big bedding sheet. I kneeled down next to him, starting pushing on his upper back. I could tell that he liked my massage from his moaning and the response from his body. As I was working on his butt and inner thighs, he opened his legs wider. I took it as an invitation to approach the more inner part. I sensed that his body became unsettled and his breath became more intense. I could feel his sexual urge but I was patient. I rubbed into the valley of the butt deeper. He moaned. I kept on rubbing it enjoying hearing his moaning. Suddenly he turned around and his erected manhood was so pronounced. He extended both of his arms toward me leading me to sit on him. I felt it, the unquestionable manliness. I started moving back and forth on that rod. I simply followed my instincts. His eyes were closed. I could see how appreciative he was from his facial expression. I leaned forward to kiss him. Our first kiss! So penetrating, so raw, and so passionate. 

Some time passed. He turned me over and lay next to me while we still kept on kissing. I held his back and wanted to bring him closer even there was already no space between us. I had been hoping for this moment since the first sight of him when he opened the door on my first visit. The long waiting didn’t matter any more. He was in my arms naked. 

He turned me over again and inserted his rock hard manhood into my legs. I felt the heat and hardness. No words could describe the joy I had when he thrusted over the heart of my bottom. 

“You are so tight.” He mumbled, “I have been waiting for this moment for a while. I shouldn’t have waited for so long.” 

He continued, “I don’t mind losing you as a customer. I need to feel you.”

I sealed his mouth with passionate kisses. His words made me tighten my legs further. I placed my hands on his butt to feel him. In the meantime, he rubbed my manhood and kissed my cheeks and ears from time to time. His moderately hairy butt was so arousing to me that I could not move away my hands. 

He withdrew himself a little bit, then he kissed my manhood and eventually swallowed it. I moaned for that incredible first contact and the following thrusts. His mouth was hot and moist. As he turned his attention to my manhood, I rotated myself to feel his manhood on my face. I smelled the male aroma. I was so addicted to that smell and couldn’t resist further but took his rod into my mouth. He made a strong sound to show his joy while keeping on pleasing me. It felt good that his balls kept on hitting my nose. The sweat and the pheromone formed an irresistible smell to me. 

“You smell so good,” he said. I had no way to speak so I kept on sucking his manhood. My hands moved between his back and butt, and I could feel his movements becoming more intense over time.

“Can I cum in your mouth?” He asked.

“Mmm…” 

“Give it to me too.”

He was very close to the climax. So was I.

“Ahhhhh….” 

The hot liquid rushed into my mouth, and that triggered my release too. That moment, I felt we were one.

After a while, he turned around to kiss me.

“Stay, please.”

I nodded and kissed him back. It’s been a while I haven’t slept with someone over night. It’s time. 

The morning after, we had McDonald’s breakfast. I liked having breakfast at the store on Yonge, south of Bloor. It was a bonus that coffee could be refilled.

He invited me back to his studio. Upon entering, we had a look at each other and we suddenly grabbed each other kissing. We both felt the rising of the desire. He led me to the bedroom. 

This time we were patient. We sat naked facing each other. He started touching me in a sensual way. I responded the same. We were sort of providing sensual massage to each other, in the meantime, I couldn’t really tell whether it was massage, foreplay, or lovemaking. I felt his hardness beneath my butt. There was passion, but we did not rush. We enjoyed the closeness. Thinking back, that is the longest foreplay I have ever had.  Our bodies contoured very well, facing each other, legs crossed to each other. We held each other and both were hard on. We knew those belonged to us so we were not in a hurry to grab. We caressed each other. One led, the other followed. No words, but full of harmony. I played his balls, he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. He then did the same to me. I was totally lost in this time and space.

I caressed his shaved head while he kissed my nipples. I felt his hardness beneath my butt and from time to time, the battering-ram hit the core of the forbidden fruit. He raised his head and his penetrating gaze told me that he wanted more. By this time, any remaining soldiers of my reservation castle were too weak to resist but surrendered. I knew I wanted to feel him inside me too. He put a condom on and entered me very gently and slowly. He kept on kissing me so that I forgot any discomfort when he entered. Eventually I became used to his penetration and I started moving myself to entertain his libido. I felt good to see him so aroused and pleased. We changed a few positions and eventually he came inside me after I reached my climax. 

I kept on going back for his professional services but we never had sex on that massage table. We always went to that tatami room for sex. I thought it was a way to respect his profession. That relationship continued on and off for almost a year before I left Toronto. Afterwards, I went online to check his website to look at his picture from time to time. Then one day his website disappeared. I no longer had his information.

Stranger in Paradise

I was in the sky again, destination Tampa. The engine noise was in the background for some time. I tried to read a detective novel, which usually could grab my attention, but my thoughts were still lingering on the passionate sex with that faculty member in the school office. The memory of his eyes, his touch, and his kisses still made me shiver. It was also good to go back to see the school, have some reflection, and see some old friends. During the trip an unexpected outcome was that the idea of living as a gay seemed to emerge— no more lies to myself that I would still be interested in getting married, no longer trying to convert back to living as a straight person, no more blind dates. Would it be difficult? I was certain. Was I prepared to face the consequences? I gradually believed that I could.

The flight attendants started picking up the food trays. My thoughts were redirected to the Paradise Lakes Resort where I was heading for. I had been to a few resorts but never to a clothing optional one. Thanks to the Internet, I found it when I planned for this trip. Although I did not associate nudity with sex, there was a tiny unspoken wish that I could have a vacation delight there even though it was a resort for everyone. I did so in most of my previous visits to a few resorts. There would be some men traveling alone. With a little hope, one could survive in any harsh time.

For years I had been always going to resorts whenever I could escape from work for a few days. When abroad, I felt adventurous to explore the possibilities to have some surprising encounters. I always chose those men alone. I did make some mistakes on those occasions though. The first one was with a roommate. We shared a same unit with our own bedrooms and common living room and bath. He was an Italian. We arrived on the same day. A few days passed. I hadn’t made any progress. Then in one afternoon, I saw him stepping out from the bathroom with a towel on his waist when I walked into our unit. I took a shower too. After the cold shower, I felt great as it was hot outside. I was in good shape and I felt sexy with only the towel on my waist. I saw him lying on his bed covered with that towel, nothing else. I walked toward his room and started chatting with him about our experiences in the past few days. He seemed to be in the mood to hold a conversation. An old trick, I brought up that I would need a massage and asked if he would like to have one as I could give him one. He took the bait.

I asked him to lie on his stomach. His towel still covered his middle section.  I climbed up his bed and sat on him, with my towel on. As usual, I gave him a professional quality massage on his back, head, and legs. Then I asked him to turn around. His manhood appeared momentarily but soon was covered by that orange towel again. I started working on his face and his head while seating on his dick, not aroused. I could feel it, but I didn’t detect his discomfort. Nor did I feel embarrassed. Then I worked on his stomach and the area below the belly. As I did not see any sign of rejection, I threw his towel away.

“It will be easier this way,” I said. He didn’t show any sign of shyness. 

I worked on the area surrounding his private part and I was careful not to cross the line. He seemed to be comfortable of this kind of closeness. I then worked on his thighs, reaching the edge of the balls. I used some amount of pressure to make it feel “professional.” In the meantime, I paid attention to see if there was any sign of arousal. Alas, I did not see any. I firmly pressed on two sides of his sides to the very end — the edge of the balls a few times. I might “accidentally” touch the balls twice or three times. 

At the end of the massage, I had to give up pursuing further exploration. There seemed to be no room for me to do anything more. I wondered whether he really was totally straight or both of us were too shy to make any move. Luckily, I didn’t end up with any embarrassment. 

* * *

Upon the plane touched down the Tampa International Airport, I had already built up my expectation through memories of those bold and erotic encounters. It was not difficult to find the taxi area.

“The Paradise Lakes, please.” 

The driver didn’t say much but started driving. 

On the way to the resort, there was not much to see. My mind was pre-occupied with the thoughts of the coming event. When I was younger, I read an article, in which the author described the changing mood of tourists on a boat heading for a nude Greek island. In those days, nudity equaled to sexiness to me, and somewhat suggested a possible encounter. Finally the taxi stopped at a gate.

“Here you are, the Paradise Lakes.”

I paid the fare and thanked him. 

The place seemed quieter than I expected. Not a single person on sight. It was hot but not unbearable. Besides, I would be naked in a moment.

I walked in the main entrance. Three staff members were in the lobby to welcome me. They all wore clothing. The atmosphere was very pleasant. That erased my sense of uncertainty when arriving in a new place. 

I was led to my room, a very large room with a full kitchen, much bigger than I expected. My room was on the ground floor and the king-sized bed was not too far from the floor-to-celling windows. So I could watch people passing by, or I could be watched. That didn’t bother me though. My mental barrier was not about nudity. As long as it was legal, I would be fine. Across from the bed was a huge mirror wall with a TV set in front. A dining table was in the center of the room and a kitchen was in the back. 

I had just had lunch in the plane and I started the day early. So I took a shower then took a nap before heading out for the adventure. I was here to relax, no plan, no pressure. I was still lingering to the faculty member from my school. His smile, his gorgeous body, and his final exclamation were still so clear to me, just like yesterday. I was beginning to feel regretful that I did not exchange the contact information with him. What could I do even if I had had it? The memory was still sweet, though. I felt there was unspoken love between us. I didn’t know whether he thought the same. There was a saying: “It’s one night for a man, but it’s a life-time for a woman.” I could identify that kind of thinking from a woman’s perspective.

The bed was extremely comfortable. I slept for about an hour. When I woke up, it was already late in the afternoon. I headed out to explore the resort. The resort extended over a large area with a few lakes. I did not go far, staying close to the main amenities. 

I liked where my room was located. It was far away from the pool and was situated in a quiet courtyard. I enjoyed staying in the quiet corner when I was not in the mood with the crowd.

When I was in the bar having a drink after the dinner, I chatted with a guy next to me. He arrived here a few days earlier than I did. We talked about the food in the restaurant was expensive. He told me that there was a supermarket nearby and he recommended me to take a look. Then there came the disco time. I did not stay there for too long. I even did not go dancing as most people here were couples. So I went back to my room to rest a little bit then went to the swimming pool. 

There were a few swimming pools. The main one was lighted and it felt quite romantic. I soaked myself in the water, my head leaning on the edge of the pool as I looked onto the stars. When I was nine or ten, I always stood at the balcony to look at the stars. I was fascinated by the universe. I was also hoping to see the neighbour who was at his late 20’s or early 30’s. I liked to see him, but I never talked to him. I don’t know why I liked to see him at that time. I still remember his face. It is deeply imprinted in my mind as well as the night sky view of Taipei when I was a kid.

It was a busy season. Quite a lot of people in the resort, all were nude except the staff. I didn’t automatically associate nudity with sex. Nudity was so natural to me. We were part of the nature. People with various shapes and looks, very few kids though, we seemed to be all comfortable of the atmosphere. While I was enjoying myself in the cool water of the pool, my gaydar was still searching for signals. No one caught my attention, but I was not desperate. My body and thoughts were still with that faculty member.

The next morning I went to look around the small shopping area nearby. I was delighted for the choices I had for cooking. I bought some stuff for the coming four days. I enjoyed cooking, especially on an experimental mood for myself.

Days passed by with sort of routine. In the daytime, I went to explore different parts of the resort. In the evening hours, I soaked in the swimming pool looking at the stars. I became acquainted with a couple who didn’t live far but came to the Paradise Lakes for a few days every year. The wife was a house wife and part-time school bus driver, and the husband was a fire-fighter. 

They shared a lot of their life experience with me, and we connected so well that we met every night in the swimming pool. I also could feel how hard working they had done together to build their family. I knew I wouldn’t have that kind of experience, but I could feel it and I valued it. 

Visitors came and went in such a resort. Over the course of time, I bumped into a few people a few times, but usually just nodding to each other and passed over. One man got my attention because he was always fully protected when he roller-skated. He had covered his head, elbows, knees, ankles, but his dick was always unprotected. It was quite ironic. 

It was the last full day that I would be here. Then I would fly back to Taipei. Since I had already explored most of the resort, I decided to go to the swimming pool. Shortly, there came a new face sitting near me in the water. He looked tanned without tan line. He had a good looking face with quite some facial hair and a very hairy body. I greeted his joining, and said:

“I haven’t seen you at all.”

“I just came here for a day.” He continued, “I live near-by.” Then he explained to me the resort’s day pass program.

The conversation carried on without efforts. We could talk various subjects, but we both were very into the naked resorts and beaches. He had explored many nude beaches in the United States. I asked him if he could write to me about those beaches and he agreed. We could talk easily but I could see that he was shy in general. As it was about lunch time, I invited him to join me for a lunch at my suite as I did have an extra proportion. He agreed upon without thinking much. 

Once getting into my room, he said:

“It’s good to have the air-con. It’s getting hot after staying outside for a while.”

“Have you been staying over night here?”

“No, I always come for a day.” Then he changed the subject, “The room is really big.”

“Yes, I like it. I can also cook.”

Preparing lunch was easy. Soon we had our lunch on the table. After lunch, I offered him to watch TV as there was really no other entertainment here and it was simply too hot outside. As the TV set was directly in front of the bed, he had to sit on the bed. I closed the curtain. He started flipping through different channels as I washed the dishes. Then I joined him watching TV for a while, and prepared for a nap. 

Looking at a naked man on the same bed with me, I couldn’t resist to think of exploring something more, but I had no clue whether he was gay. During the course of conversation, I could tell he was a little bit shy, but no sign of being a gay. The most difficult part was that he was next to me naked and no one else around. As he faced the other side, I could see his entire back. I wanted to touch him but my brain told me not to. Finally I broke the silence:

“Sorry, I feel horny now, and I have to masturbate.”

He didn’t say a word, but he didn’t leave the bed either. I knew he was not asleep. I started stroking myself, in the meantime, I hoped that he would turn around at one point. I started making some noise to show my gratification in the hope that it could excite him.  It didn’t work out either. Things turned hotter, I felt I needed to touch him, so I moved my left arm to gently touched him. He did not withdraw. I then started touching his body, his butt. Chinese idiom “Give you an inch, then you want a foot” describes that situation. The odd thing was that he didn’t leave or showed any sign of disapproval. I thought of rubbing my manhood on his butt crack, but felt it might be too much. So the most I could do was to touch him while I masturbated.

The final moment arrived. I felt so relieved. I got up to clean up myself and he sat up on the bed too. When I returned to the room, he was still sitting on the bed. I joined him again, watching TV, and talked various things, but we didn’t talk about what had just happened as though nothing happened. 

Weeks later back in Taipei, I received a letter addressed to me. I opened it. It was a list of the nude beaches in the United States.  He simply stated, 

“As promised, this is a list of…” signed with his first name. The envelope did not have a return address.

"Stranger in Paradise"

My “stranger in Paradise” looked like the character “Jean Valjean” in the Les Miserables

The Faculty Member

The plane touched down in the city airport. It’s been six years since I left the city and the school. Those two years living in this city had transformed me from someone following family rules and wishes into someone with free spirits.

For the past six years I had been longing to come back. I considered it my second hometown. I took the car in the airport and drove to my friends’ home. I would stay with a couple that I was quite close to when I was here. I planned to visit the places and restaurants that I frequented. They were just ordinary places but they were part of my life, my memory. I was on my five-week vacation in the US between two jobs. It was a good time to do some reflection.

When I was here during those two years, I did not know I was gay. I went to the school gym and sauna quite often. Two doctoral students always debated in the sauna about methodology. They were naked walking around me, but I did not feel anything. Later on I “blamed” them that they failed to awaken me when I joked with friends. If I had known my sexuality, I possibly would have tried to stay in the States. We could never figure out what our life might become if we had chosen a different path. My career seemed to be progressing well but I was extremely lonely inside my heart. There was a certain part of me that I had been afraid of becoming too close to friends. I worried that they might know that I was gay. In the meantime, I did not dare to step into the local gay community. I was afraid that words might spread.

The city had changed a lot. I lost my direction many times when I drove around. I visited my ex room-mate. We had a nice chat in a small restaurant. His wife did not come along. Even though I was not aware of my sexuality when living with him, I did something unconsciously — I slept naked, letting the door open, and revealing part of my naked body on purpose. I didn’t know what I was thinking, but I did this quite a few times. There was a hint. I didn’t get it. The seeds were planted, but lack of proper watering. Later, I had come to realize that I was attracted to him, but the dominant thoughts prohibited me from discovering that.

Not many friends were still here. Most went back to Taiwan, and some moved to other states. A few days had passed. I had been to my favorite Vietnamese noodle restaurant, the gay area where I did not go before, and the stores where I used to buy groceries. Memories came across my mind and went. Years had passed by. Things, friends around me were different. I couldn’t image where I would be when I had just graduated six years ago. My goals were probably finding a good job once getting back to Taiwan, having sex before thirty, and perhaps getting married within a few years. 

I found myself being gay six months after I went back to Taiwan. Since then, I had been struggling with my sexual orientation for more than five years. I was not uncomfortable about being a gay. The problem was the fear to be known that might affect my career. Besides, there had been the marriage issue. I hadn’t be able to say “Mind your own business” to friends and family. The past six years had been a mix of sweet and sour. On one hand, it was good — a progressing career with a condo. On the other hand, I had been longing for emotional and sexual satisfaction. I failed a few times trying to form lasting relationships, including one with a local guy returning from Vancouver, Canada. In order not to touch the marriage/girlfriend issue, I started distancing myself from family and friends whenever possible. No wonder when I walked out of the San Francisco Airport terminal two weeks ago, I felt a sense of freedom. I stopped over San Francisco before coming here. I was there to meet with a friend I met in a hotel sauna in Taipei.

I was a very different person six years ago at the school from who I had become when revisiting it. I was hopeful about the future then, but I had become confused six years later. In the past few days, various thoughts appeared while I sat in the coffee shops and under the trees around those landmark buildings. I had come to realize what I should do in the future — no more blind dates. I couldn’t change my preference to men. A marriage would not be possible as I even couldn’t have sex with women. I tried a few times for the paying services and I ended up saying that I felt wrong as I had a girlfriend. Besides, I should not continue hurting those ladies by my cover-ups. I would live my life as a gay man although I had no clue where to find more men for my unfulfilled desire and how that would affect me socially and career-wise being an unmarried older man. A lonely journey, that’s what I am sure.

People tend to be bolder when they are not in their hometown. In a restaurant, after ordering my lunch, I noticed an older gentleman sitting alone in a table nearby. Without thinking, I greeted him when our eyes met and signalled to invite him to join me. He gracefully declined. I was a little embarrassed, but I did not feel that bad. No shame, no gain. 

Days had passed by. I spent the daytime by myself touring around. In the night-time, I spent some time with the couple I stayed with to catch up on things. So far I had been to most places where I would like to visit in my mind, including the two apartment buildings where I used to live, the Vietnamese noodle restaurant, and even the supermarkets. A park not too far from my second apartment, however, was still on the list. 

The park was huge, about ten-minute drive from my apartment. I went there from time to time when I felt stuck in studying. I usually walked around or sat on one of the benches. I felt peaceful there. I always went there by myself and I never talked with anyone as I did not recall that there were many people around. The park was beautiful in any season. In the summer, it’s like every park with lots of green, and in the winter, there was a special kind of atmosphere that made me always linger.

Two more days I would be leaving this city. I decided to pay a visit to the park to complete my wish list. Immediately I drove in the park, I saw a bunch of cars in the parking lot. I had never seen so many cars there. But wait, they are cruising. Those men are cruising! Why had I not noticed in the past? Was the nature of the park changed over time? Or simply my gaydar had been well developed?

My libido surged. It had been a few days that I lived as a monk since I left San Francisco. Some men sat in their cars, but I decided to walk around. I came here to reflect my old days, the years passing by, and perhaps what I had become. Those days of studying were not easy, but when looking back, there were memorable moments. Back then, I talked with friends about my plans for the years to come. A marriage was in that plan.  A friend once told me that a guy in our class was gay. I did not have any feeling or emotion about that piece of information. I did not feel disgusted, excited, or even curious. Thinking back, he was a good-looking guy though. I still remembered his name — George. The friend who told me about this was interested in me, but I always pretended that I did not know her intention, treating her like a good friend. Was she testing my sexuality? Eventually she did not pursue further. This strategy had been working fine for the past few years. 

I walked toward the bench next to the pond. That used to be my favourite spot. In a winter afternoon when I sat there, the vanishing sunlight reflected on the partially frozen lake. It’s so quiet, so peaceful, and that gave me a sense of hope in a cold winter day. That image imprinted in my mind for years. I pictured myself sitting here years back with that one and only down jacket. I had my first photo in the snow wearing it too. 

Thoughts went back to my first thanksgiving in the States. I went to North Carolina to join the family of a business friend of my father for the holiday. I still remembered when the plane left the gate, the welcoming announcement said something like “Welcome to the flight XXX, heading for Jacksonville, Florida.” I was panic. That would be a joke if I took a wrong flight. I asked the flight attendant if I was on the right flight. She assured me that the flight would stop in Charlotte first. Those young and inexperienced days. 

My father’s business friend picked me up at the airport and took me to his home, a nice big house which I had not seen before in Taiwan. He and his wife were very nice and warm. A few hours later, he asked if I would like to join him to go to pick up his youngest son. On the way to the airport, he said,

“My youngest son now studies music in Boston, long hair, earring. Every time when he comes back, I feel it’s our daughter coming home.” 

I listened to his words without saying a word, simply showing him that I was listening. I didn’t know what to say. After making his complaints, he sort of laughed lightly. He was probably preparing me for seeing his son.

His son did appear exactly the way he described. The amazing thing was no matter how the parents did not like how their son had become. Once he stepped into the home, only hugs and warm words welcomed him. They didn’t say a word about his hair or his earring. I couldn’t imagine what would have happened if it had been in Taiwan. That was 1980’s.

I had learned a lot in the school during those two years. Other than the knowledge I gained, I found the professors’ manners, their characters were far more intriguing to learn. It’s something I did not experience before. Also in those two years, it was the first time I started driving without a mentor next to me. It was the first time I lived alone, having to be responsible for cooking, laundry, and all errands in life. 

There were more people walking in the park now than when I first arrived. I could tell that most of them were cruising. I decided to take a look what’s going on. I did not walk far and found out where most people were. The park spread out from the riverside, trees and bushes everywhere which provided an ideal set-up for secretive activities. I saw two men kissing. I continued my exploration. Some greeted me with smile and I smiled back too, a polite kind. We all knew which smiles were inviting, which were simply courteous. As usual, the ones I liked didn’t like me, and some liked me but I didn’t feel the same way. Finally I met someone. We made some small talk and soon started kissing and touching. Although we appealed to each other by sight, we didn’t feel the same way physically. We were just like two clouds bumping into each other in the sky, smiling at each other, having some conversations, then moving on to pursue our own dreams after realizing there would be no future to stay together. 

I kept on walking around, a few more clouds gone with the wind. I chatted with a few guys. One told me that this park had become more cruising in the past few years than when I was there six years ago.

Suddenly, a magic moment arrived. My eyes were caught by a guy possibly at my age or just a few years older, slightly taller than me, meaty with that kind of next door good husband quality. I could tell that he liked me too. The most surprising thing was that he was working on a project of the school from which I graduated. It was an odd feeling. It’s not like “I am going to have sex with a professor” but still quite strange. 

“Where do you stay?” He asked.

“I stay in a friend’s place. Too far and it’s impossible.”

“I live quite far too.” 

For a brief moment, that seemed to be the end of a fairytale.

“How about my office? Take my car. I will take you back here.” He was very resourceful and I felt it was adventurous although somewhat taboo — the school?! His smile as well as his sexual appeal did not allow me to think further but followed his suggestion.

Here I am back to the school again. I was here just a few days ago but I felt quite different. It was for memory and reflection, while this time for an adventure. 

He guided me through a big office, then to a room piled up with desks, chairs, and other stuff. It seemed an office used for storage.

“There will be no one here. It’s Friday afternoon. Everyone else has gone home.” 

“Besides, this is an area no one else would come,” he continued.

He cleaned the stuff off a big desk. I could see people walking on the other side of the U-shaped building through the windows. Before long, we joined ourselves with kisses and hugging. My “little brother” soon awakened from a few days of rest. His was eager too. We held each other caressing the back, the butt, the head, and wherever we could reach while kissing and undressing ourselves. We only unbuttoned our shirts and lower our pants in the beginning as though we were afraid someone might come in unexpectedly, but eventually everything was removed. I leaned backward on the desk and he started rubbing his manhood on my ab. His balls were firm. I gently played with them and he moaned, his eyes closed. The scrotum wrinkles were so nice to touch and they hardened when I touched. He was moderately hairy, and I was turned on enormously by touching his body. 

He leaned over to kiss me, then my neck, my nipples, and down to my manhood. He sniffed at my glans, licking it, then swallowed my pride. His mouth was warm. The sensation was so delightful. I moaned. I am having sex in an office of my school.

After working on my manhood for a minute or two, he licked my balls tenderly and then parted my legs with a smile. His manhood hit my perineum. I grabbed his butt and begged for more. Then I felt my rosebud was pressed by his manhood. I couldn’t resist that joy but sighed. I felt in love right there. He occasionally leaned over to kiss me. So tender, so unforgettable. We exchanged no words, simply the admiration for and the eagerness to please each other.

“Do you have condom with you?” He asked.

“No. I did not expect anything like this.” 

“We do whatever we can.” He smiled at me, with a caring tone.

He raised my legs and kissed my perineum and rosebud. I would have screamed if I had not been in that school office. His hand started rubbing my manhood. Things happened exactly the way I would like. I didn’t have to tell him what I liked. He simply knew by observing my physical reaction to what he did. I was so lost. He noticed my breathing becoming intense, and he stood up and bent down to give me head. 

“I am coming.” I hinted him to remove his mouth if he did not want me to come in his mouth.

“Um-hum.” He continued moving up and down, but more forcefully. I held his head. He put a finger on my rosebud to pull that final trigger. 

“Ahhh!” I held back my scream while he kept on digging more and more, seemingly trying to dry up my reservoir. 

After I regained my peaceful stage, he moved himself to kiss me. That was the most memorable moment about my life at the school. 

As we kissed, I rubbed his butt and felt his hardness. We exchanged the position, and I started giving him head. I liked how hard it was, and it was mouthful and relatively long. In the meantime, my hand was playing with his balls. That gave me a hint how he felt. Then I managed to hold his penis with my legs. Apparently he liked how tight my legs were. He turned me over and moved in and out my legs, hitting my perineum. I held my legs tightly. I wanted to please him. I wanted to give him as much joy as I could.

“It’s so good!” He spoke breathlessly. 

“It’s very tight.” He continued mumbling.

Many people have told me that!

My hands on his butt, moved along with his butt back and forth. 

His movements became faster and faster and his breathing became more intense. I squeezed my legs harder as he started moaning. His manhood turned to an iron bar, just like a man eager to ignite the fire in the wood in the dark cold wild.

“Ahhhhh!” (He was louder.) His facial expression was so adorable. It was very satisfying that I could give him such joy. I gave him a kiss and he kissed back passionately. 

A moment later, he broke the silence, “Are you coming back some time in the future?” 

“I don’t know. This is the first time six years after I graduated. I am not sure how soon I might come back.”

I knew he was trying to keep in touch. I would like too. But we both didn’t speak it out. 

He drove me back to the park. We had a long kiss before I stepped out of his car. We didn’t exchange the contact information as we knew it’s unlikely we would meet again. However, this encounter and this faculty member put a memorable ending to my lingering thoughts toward my school life in the States.

P.S.  Two days later after the encounter, I left for another city. To this date, I haven’t been back to visit the school again.