Rendezvous

I sat in my car watching the workers from the supermarket start to slowly trickle out. It had always been a weird location for a grocery store, never mind one that specialized in Asian goods. Yet there it was, plopped down in the middle of a desolate portland on the edge of the city - always teeming with people coming and going, yet still pretty lonesome. The area had a brilliant view of the skyline, and there were surrounding vantage points where photographers tended to park themselves for long exposures late at night. It was a beautiful, lonely place where concrete and dirt roads mingled with offseason boat storage. It didn't stand out, but it also didn't fit in.

I had been giving my parents a simple explanation for awhile now, to take the family car and pick up my grandmother all her favourite treats, and spices at the store. I had always chosen to go just before closing time, just so I could be there after dark when no one else was around.

My name is Ken. I'm a college student, I am a Chinese-Christian, and I have liked men for years.

----

As a shy teenager, I'd always found myself in groups of other asian kids at school, but quietly at the fringe. I had entertained crushes on a girl or two, because whenever the guys would be away from the girls, there seemed to be this implication that everyone was going to eventually pair off. Oh, not for sex - we were all too young and stupid I suppose, everyone still pretty much chaste and unsure how to navigate their Christian upbringing. I imagine we were all raised, not just along rules of the church, but in a strict belief about doing what is right, and proper, and to never disrespect your parents.

I was starting to have a tougher time about that though, because I realized before my first college class, that I was fascinated with looking at naked guys. I would try to avoid gawking at the array of penises in change rooms, all the different types and sizes, all the different kinds of public hair and armpit hair and chest hair we all sported. I remember feeling ashamed about my uncut penis and how odd it looked compared to the long shafts and bulbous heads I'd see wagging about whenever guys started roughhousing around in the showers. Despite my fascination though, I was still in the belief that I was entirely straight, that I would meet the right asian girl to make my parents happy, and raise a family after college. I told myself that I was drawn to naked guys because I was jealous about not being muscular and toned and manly, kind of a wishful thinking daydream in a way.

Over time I found myself thinking more about penises when I masturbated, and one night, found myself jerking off in the bathroom to one of my sisters 'Heartthrob' magazines. I felt joyous until the guilt sank in, but it was always short lived until I locked the bathroom door the next day and started up again.

Working things out for myself, without a soul to talk to, I took to the internet, like I suppose we all did. For me though, all of this happened before the age of smartphones and apps, and my only outlet to the 'world wide web' was the family computer in the basement.

----

Chat rooms were the only archaic means of talking with other gay kids back in the day, there were the quiet beginnings of stuff like ICQ, and MSN Messenger, but it often required software installations that would have made my parents suspicious. Reaching out the first week was like an explosion! In the first few minutes of logging on, I was inundated with all sorts of crazy offers and pick-ups, and it was all just a big huge joke that energized me, and admittedly made me horny. Eventually though, the same types of messages and comments about not liking asian guys, or fetishizing them made me sad. I remember one night, I risked getting caught when I pulled my hard penis out of my shorts and tried to figure out if it was small. I remember actually taking a ruler off the desk and putting it beside my dick to count of the 7" I presumed was average at the time. I also remember feeling horrible about doing that, and sneaking the ruler into the bathroom to wash with soap and water, lest someone else use it after me.

In time though, I started having real conversations with people, including people in my city, my own age and I started making - friends I guess. They felt like real friends anyhow. I was addicted to logging online after everyone had gone to bed and pouring out my heart and soul to these Avatars, who returned the favour. The friend that was most important to me was went by the handle 'Beau'.

'Beau' didn't feel safe using his real name, but he was slightly older than me - about to finish university, and Japanese. He was still very much in the closet, but had at least had some experience fooling around with a couple other guys. He had an old picture that he sent me that showed him being tall and slender, with a nice face, and a perfectly kept head of hair. He was gorgeous to me, both masculine and feminine, and he really seemed to care about me. We talked for a couple weeks before he had suggested that we meet in real life.

I could barely contain myself over the next few days as I tried to scheme my way to a meet up with this wonderful boy who had connected with me. I wondered if we would kiss, or touch each other, would we have sex, did I know what to do, did I need condoms? And of course, how would I get out of the house, and where would we go?

It finally clicked in my head though, when my mother had asked me one night, to pick my grandmother up some cakes she needed for a lunch with friends the next day.

I was granted the rare privilege of taking the family car and heading out to the Asian supermarket out by the port. The parking lot had been pretty jammed when i got there, and I ended up with a spot at the opposite end of the entrance. By the time I had meandered about, done the shopping and checked out, most of the cars were gone, and I had realized just how secluded my car was at that point.

----

The first time I arranged to meet Beau, I meticulously tried to plot out my route and the time I could afford to be gone. Neither of us explained what it was that we had wanted to DO when we met, we were both just so simply overjoyed to be actually, physically in front of one another for once and for all.

In the hours prior, I struggled to keep it together. To deodorize and primp without looking like I was up to something, and to keep my insecurities in check. He had never even seen a picture of me before. What if he thought I was ugly? Nonetheless, I announced I was heading out to the store and saw if anyone wanted anything, and then tore out of the driveway with nothing to lose.

When I had arrived, Beau had parked where I had directed him to - along the edge, but a few spots away as to not make it obvious we were "together". He sat in his car, and looked over at me after I had turned off my engine. I waved, and he stepped out of his car in jogging pants, and a bomber jacket. I couldn't believe what was about to happen!

Beau opened the passenger side and climbed on in, catching his breath a bit, and carrying a wide foolish grin on his pretty, boyish face. I smiled back and said hi before we both took an awkward second to figure out what the next logical step was in this initial greeting. Without missing a beat, we lunged towards each other and started frantically kissing. I don't think I had ever experienced something so great in my entire life, nor do I think I have experienced anything so electric ever since. Our hands flew to each others bodies, mauling and pawing at each others face, pulling at necks and shirts - it was the mutual hunger of two kids just desperate for touch.

It was Beau who started massaging my cock through my jeans, causing me pull my lips away to moan and cry out. My cock had been confined, and his touch was initially rough and painful, but eased into the most exquisite thing I had felt up until that point. He started to eagerly unbuckle my belt and unzip me, but before I was totally unwrapped, I embarrassingly came in my white briefs. There was a moment where I threw my head back and rode the wave of release, before my eyes started to tear up and I felt like a terrible disappointment. For his part, Beau spoke his first words to me, gently whispering that it was all okay, before asking me to lift my butt up off the seat. I obliged, and he delicately pulled my jeans and underwear to my knees before moving his head down and slipping my cum-covered cock into his mouth.

I really did cry at that point, just quiet, easy tears that rolled down my cheeks, but it was out of sheer joy and relief.

We kissed some more, and I tasted my own cum in his mouth. He had cleaned me, swallowed me and stiffened my member for a mutual jerk-off session. I pushed the waistband of his sweats to the floor and let him spread his legs for me, his skinny pink dick just jutting out from his dark wiry pubes and engorged balls. Part of me wanted to put him in my mouth as he did for me, but I was scared and he seemed insistent that we get each other off. I grasped his cock, the first cock that I ever had in hand that wasn't my own, and felt it's fleshiness. The pre-cum that beaded and fell from the tip helped lubricate my handiwork. Beau politely corrected the harshness of my grip a few times, but I managed to get him off, before eventually cumming for a second time myself. The cleanup took over half a box of tissues from the backseat, and we kissed again before he left the car and drove off into the night.

I was over the moon.

----

Over the next few weeks, Beau and I returned to the same spot, at the same time and continued our fun. I would eventually try giving him a blow job, and one time we both took our shirts off as we dropped our pants and underwear to our ankles, just so we could see and feel more of each other.

At home, nobody seemed to catch on to my activities. My father seemed to be more preoccupied with my sisters comings and goings than mine, and I never found myself questioned about anything.

I did struggle though with the idea of keeping a secret, of lying to my parents, and the ultimate fear of what would happen if, or more accurately WHEN they would find out that I was... gay.

There were horrible nightmares, and bouts of paranoia and anxiety, but I did everything I could to keep myself intact so I could carry on. I learned to love Beau through all our experimentation together, even though I hadn't even learned his real name.

After a month of parking lot rendezvous, Beau informed me of some great news - his roommate was going away for the weekend, and he was going to have the entire place to himself. He asked me if I was ready to go to the next level. Anxious and horny, I told him yes.

----

The night I went to his dorm, it always plays out in my mind in slow-motion. I had invented a college party downtown that I wanted to go to, hinted that I would probably be out too late to make it home, and thus would be staying over at a friend's. Looking back, I don't think the spy-games were as necessary as I thought, but it preoccupied me. I had scrounged as many condoms as I could from the campus health clinic, and cursed myself for not being able to shave my pubes and make myself more presentable to Beau.

I arrived at his dorm via transit, which was a change in pace for us. But this night was to be far more different than any other we had experienced. I was charged up and ready to go.

Beau greeted me casually dressed and with a sweet smile. He waved me in, took my coat and hung it up on the back of the door and showed me the take out he had gotten for our "date". The only light source in his sparse 2-bedroom flat were a handful of randomly placed candles flickering warmly. We ignored the food and got right to making out. It began on the couch, before rolling onto the floor, and we took turns ambling over each other, laughingly taking control over the other. When our clothes came off and we lay together for the first time, I never felt more warm and beautiful in my life. I had never purposely shown my naked body to someone else before, not like this - and in return, he had done the same. We hugged for the longest time, our hard-ons mashed together as our legs intertwined. I never wanted to leave his arms. I finally understood the reason why people let sex control their lives. If it was anything like this, just laying there with the man I love. Sigh.

Soon, we both became impatient, and starting tugging at each other's cocks. Beau sat back on his knees as I lay beneath him staring down at me thinking, before saying a simple, "I love how beautiful you are". I melted. Gently he used his hands to encourage me to get up on my hands and knees with my ass pointing out - and before I could ask what he was going to do, I felt a long wet tongue slide along my ass crack. I shuddered and nervously giggled at the tickling sensation in my bottom. Part of my mind drifted to thoughts about cleanliness, but fell away to the audacious pleasure I was feeling.

I had lost track of time when Beau delicately maneuvered me onto my back, and lifted my knees over his shoulders. I trusted him implicitly at this point, as he reached for a bottle of lube. He whispered his intent to me, preparing for what was about to happen. The lube felt cold on my anus, and i tightened up when he began to use his fingers to open me up for more. He used gravity to fill me with lubicrant, and I felt slick. He paused to fidget a condom onto his penis, and then while locking eyes with me, slowly pushed his cock into my asshole.

The initial pain was excruciating, and I nearly blacked out for a second. Biting my lip and fighting back tears, I tried to keep up a brave face for my man, the man I loved who was fucking me for the very first time. He couldn't look back at me though, instead seeming to be riveted to the motion and angle he was moving his cock in and out of me with. I suppose he didn't want to see me hurt, and was watching what he was doing for my own safety.

My ass eventually got used to being stretched, and I began to enjoy the feelings beyond the pain, but my dick was completely limp and so Beau pulled out, removing the condom and grabbing both our dicks in one hand. He meekly smiled at me, brought me to full hardness and we came together, our combined mess raining down on my stomach. He made me laugh a little by bellyflopping on top of me so he could share in the nastiness.

We kissed, and shared a bathtub together. He helped clean and inspect me, giving a few cursory licks to make me feel better, before we ate our cold take out, and crawled into bed, wrapped up in each others arms.

Before we fell asleep, he even told me his real name. It was Simon.

----

I sat in my car, staring ahead at the moonlight on the dashboard, thinking back to my time with Beau/Simon. The parking lot was emptying, the last shift filing out, and the water lapping away in the distance. After our "date" it became tougher and less enjoyable to see one another. He had ultimately felt pressure from his family after graduation to find that nice girl and start a family, and he had become overtaken by shame and guilt. In a way, I felt that our time together was the beginning of my world, while it seemed to mark the end of his. Our love was young and temporary, and while I cherish the experience, I still feel sad about how it ended.

That whole young love thing, its about believing every emotion you have, to be true - instead of part of a larger life of experiences. Overtime you learn many things, including just how special and fleeting that kind of innocence is.

This is what I thought about as I sat in my car, waiting for another stranger to show up and park two spots over, a bag of groceries in the back seat. I looked up at the moon, sighed and put my key in the ignition.

I wasn't going to stay parked here anymore.