Edge Running Ch. 04

A gay sex stories: Edge Running Ch. 04

I agreed to meet the Filipino businessman, Benjie Reyes, in a dimly lit bar off the lobby of the Grand Diamond City Casino Hotel. Reyes, a man of obvious wealth and with the bearing of comfortably being in command, was said to be both fabulously wealthy and highly secretive about where that wealth came from. This secretiveness always was a red flag for me as easily as I was finding myself in troubled circumstances. He wore his assurance and stature well. He was a good three inches taller than I was, quite thin, but hard-bodied, as I’d already discovered, with well-defined muscles. His face was handsome and perpetually calm and in control in demeanor. His hair was a wavy black, which, as I knew it was dyed, probably took ten years or more off what must be at least the late fifties in longevity. He always moved with grace and purpose, always pointed in the direction in which he intended to go. I had the feeling, though, that he might be more than one would want to contend with if they were successful in making him deviate from his course.

It was unusual that he asked me to meet him here. He had gotten everything he could have wanted from me the previous night, after he had attended the 11:00 p.m. male dance revue. I had seen him in the casino for a few days before that. I’d even been invited to sit beside him and accepted a drink from him at the roulette table. There hadn’t been that second drink the first two times I’d encountered him on the casino floor. The second one only was offered and accepted at midnight, the previous evening, after I had come onto the casino floor after the dance revue he had attended. One of his bodyguards–I assumed the three young, muscled-up Filipino men with the constant serious expressions who floated somewhere within twenty feet of Reyes at all times were bodyguards–had attended the earlier show. I must have passed some sort of muster for Reyes himself to show up at the later performance.

Men like him, ones who were interested in taking the male dancers to their rooms after an evening at the casino, usually were one-time clients. And few of them could afford, after what they lost at the casino tables, to indulge in sex with one of the dancers more than once. There were so many other young men among the hotel staff in more menial and needy positions to dally with if they had more than one fling to indulge in and could afford during their stay in Poipet.

Reyes had had his night last night. We had shared a room service breakfast before he had let me leave his suite. He was a connoisseur of the fuck and he had stamina and edging technique. Following his guidance, I’d just laid out on my back, legs bent and spread, pelvis rolled up, and let him play my body like a violin. He was able to make me come three times on the king-sized bed in his suite in this position and, later, standing plastered to the floor-to-ceiling glass window looking out onto the hotel garden and then in the oversized bathtub before he finally would let himself release. And then, after breakfast, and before our final, shared shower, he’d taken me in the same position the Chinese gun dealer, Chao Tse-ho had, the man who had boasted of knowing the secrets of the Taoist “art of the bedchamber” and had convincingly shown me that he did.

Reyes sat at the foot of the bed, just as Chao had in much the same hotel suite as this one, and put me on his cock–a long if not terribly thick cock–facing away from him, my legs streaming back onto the bed past his hips, my chest cantilevered over the carpet at the foot of the bed, and Reyes grasping my wrists and arching my chest taunt like I was a drawn bow, while I just the leverage off my toes dug into the sheeting of the bed to pull myself on and off his shaft.

Reyes showed that Chao’s coveted and secretive sexual techniques were known to at least one man in the Philippines. I was grateful they were as we had left Chao buried in a burnt-out insurgent camp in Thailand’s remote Surin Province.

I had read the Filipino business man as one of the one-and-done casino high-rollers who had wanted to master and fuck a Westerner for the adventure of it–but only the once–and, thus, it was a surprise when one of his bodyguards approached me after the 11:00 show and asked me to join Reyes in the bar. None of the clientele here was that discreet, unless they’d made the mistake of bringing their wife or mistress with them, and they had no need to be discreet. Poipet was an “anything goes” fleshpot of pleasure for money.

“I am pleased you are joining me for a drink and a quiet conversation, young man,” he said when I came into the bar. Tonight was emerald night, so I was wearing the tight white-silk trousers and an emerald-green sequined T-shirt that dipped in at the neckline and in the armpits that left nothing to the imagination of my physique. Of course, there wasn’t anything to imagine anyway. The man had been to the late show, which ended in several seconds of baring it all, and he’d had me, naked, all night the previous night. He had made full use of my nakedness, adding his as well. I knew he dyed his head hair black, because his chest hair and pubes were salt and pepper.

I ordered scotch on the rocks and Reyes had three drinks brought for me, so the house rule of two drinks and the fee paid and a done deal was already being taken care of. The bar manager would have seen that and marked Reyes’s tab for an all-night fuck, which is what the third drink was ordered for. I was pleased that I had pleased him the previous night, but I wasn’t used to being that athletic and exhausted by sex two nights in a row on top of my dancing commitments, so I was a little apprehensive too.

“I enjoyed your performance immensely,” he said after the drinks had been delivered. He was drinking as well.

“Thank you,” I said. “The dancing does give us a good workout. It keeps us in shape–it’s almost as beneficial as a night with a real man, like you.” It sounded so lame, but it usually contributed to big tips from men like this.

“Yes, the dancing is impressive too, but you have talents you have demonstrated far beyond that. For instance, I understand that you’re a doctor and have credentials with Doctors Without Borders.”

“Yes, I do,” I said, somewhat apprehensive now. What did this dude want? He could get whatever drugs he wanted through his own networks, and I still retained scruples enough not to give prescriptions out like candy. Now that I thought of it, I rather thought he might have been on something the previous night. He was able to keep it up nearly all night. “But I’m not really sure–”

“I’ll get directly to the offer. I have a large share of a major casino in the Philippines–in Cebu City. I’m here to recruit staff for the hotel and casino. People in the Philippines like to be served by Thai or Cambodians–and they absolutely love their entertainers to be beautiful, cut Westerners, like you. I’m gathering staff to take to the Philippines, and I’m interested in you not only as a performer and prostitute at the casino and hotel but also in helping to keep the others healthy en route to the Philippines.”

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