Alan Hooks Up with a Father and Son in Hong Kong

Norfolk, Virginia, June 1993

"Ok, time for my most memorable Hong Kong pickup," Alan says.

I'm visiting Alan and his partner and their friend Tarik in Norfolk.  Today we drove out to Colonial Williamsburg.  Now we're having a very healthy vegetarian dinner and swapping stories of sexual exploits in days gone by.

"Picture it: seven million people crammed into 426 square miles.  7 of the tallest buildings in the world.  Over 50 shopping malls, including Harbor City, with over 700 stores."

"It sounds awful," I complain.  "Everything I hate about big cities, the reason I prefer small-town gay neighborhoods."

"You don't know what you're missing.  The lights, the color, the shopping.  The 3.5 million Chinese men..."

"The 15 hour plane flight..." his partner Sandy continues..  

"Not to mention the horrific anti-sodomy laws," Tarik adds. "Life in prison for gay sex, not repealed until last year."

Alan glares at him.  "Need I remind you that your beloved state of Virginia still makes gay sex a felony?  That doesn't stop the guys down on Granby Street from cruising everybody in sight."

Hong Kong, Summer 1990

Alan was living in Paris.  Anxious to meet some Asian men, he spent his vacation in Hong Kong, shopping and sightseeing.  

Gay culture in Hong Kong wasn't well developed -- very few organizations, only three gay bars, only one very unsatisfactory bathhouse.  But street cruising was an art in itself.  Beaches, malls, parks were teaming with men, Chinese and Western, gay and straight. Most were available, some for free, some for pay.

One day he went sunbathing at Middle Bay Beach, where a lot of local gays hung out.  He saw a cute Chinese twink going down on an older white guy, who was pretending to be asleep.  

The older guy was a bear, very hairy, with a beard, thick muscles and a little belly. A thick uncut Bratwurst.  Not really Alan's type -- he liked slim, smooth chests. 

But he and the Chinese guy took turns working on the white guy, who then pretended to wake up and invited them all to his hotel.  

"An interracial three-way?" I ask, not impressed.  "You didn't need to fly 6,000 miles to get that.  Go to Mugi in West Hollywood."

"Or come out to the bars with Boomer and me later, and see who we find to 'share,'" Tarik says. "Maybe we'll get a Chinese guy, and have a three-race three-way."

"This is just the set-up," Alan says.  "It gets better."

They drove all the way up to the Crowne Plaza on Leighton Road, had their three-way, and the Chinese guy left.  The white guy invited Alan to get a drink in the bar.

His name was Cormac.  He was 43 years old, from Sidney, Australia, in Hong Kong working on some kind of business deal.  

"Hey, exactly my age!" Sandy exclaims.  "Alan knows how to pick them."

Cormac told Alan that he had been attracted to men all his life, but he married "because it was expected," and had three children.  He never had a same-sex experience until six months ago.  Now he was happily divorced and making up for lost time.

"My wife and kids have been a blessing -- they helped  me through all this.  Especially my oldest, Michael.  He sat me down one day and said, 'Dad, believe me, nothing will change if you just admit that you're gay.'  But he was wrong -- everything has changed -- for the better."

"Nice coming out story," I say.  "So, let me tell you about the time..."

"It's not over.  The best part is coming up."

"Your family sounds very supportive," Alan said.  "I'd love to meet them some time."

As if on cue, a twink appeared in the bar, carrying two shopping bags: in his 20s, slim, short brown hair, handsome face, wearing a red t-shirt and very tight jeans.  He grinned at Alan, then hugged Cormac.  "You've been busy, I see."

Cormac's son Michael!  It seems that Cormac brought him along on his trip to Hong Kong, as a way of saying "thank you" for helping him come out.  And he was gay! 

The three went out to dinner.  Michael was a high school history teacher, so he and Alan compared notes about inept colleagues, martinet administrators, and students who became aroused in class.  

Afterwards Cormac excused himself and returned to his room.  Michael and Alan went out cruising.  One thing led to another.

"So you brought him back to your hotel, and tricked with a father and son on the same day?" Sandy asks.

Alan smiles.  "I asked him to come back to my hotel, but I was staying way over on Victoria Road, and the Crowne Plaza was right there, so...."

There were two double beds in the hotel room.  Cormac was in one, under the covers, sleeping.  Alan and Michael quickly undressed and climbed into the other to kiss and fondle.  Then Michael started going down on Alan.

"...you were with Michael while his father was asleep in the next bed?" I ask.  We stare in shock.  Gay or straight, no father wants to wake up to see his son having sex!

"That's not what happened..."
 .
Alan had his eyes closed, so when a hand started fondling his chest, he assumed it was Michael's.  Then someone was kissing him.  Cormac!  

"A father and son together? Gross!"  Tarik exclaims.  "I mean, I like older guys, and sometimes I call them 'Daddy,' but a real father and son?  That's incest!"

Alan was somewhat surprised himself, but he figured, they were both adults, and there was no chance of pregnancy, so why not? Besides, they didn't actually do anything with each other; they took turns kissing Alan and going down on him, and then he went down on Michael while Cormac topped him (with a condom, of course).  Then Cormac returned to his own bed.

"Well, that takes the cake," Sandy says.  "I don't have anything nearly that weird, and I was quite the player, back in the day."

"That's not the best part, though," Alan says.

We wait expectantly.  What could top a story about sharing a father and son?

Alan pauses to let the suspense build.  

The best part was Michael's beneath-the-belt gifts -- the biggest Alan had ever seen, far bigger than his own porn-star-sized penis.  Easily a foot-long, Kovbasa++!

Leave it to Alan to find penis size more memorable than a night with a father and son.

See also: Alan's Partner and Their Boy Toy; Hooking Up with a Trophy Boy and His Dad; and I Spend the Night with Fred's Son

Men of Steel in their Underwear

The Superman costume centers on a red-and-yellow "S" on a blue field.  You can buy or make entire costumes, but why not just use the logo on underwear?  Thus you can highlight the part of your anatomy that is "super."

Of course, it helps if you have a bulge to fill it out.  No one wants to see a flat "Superman" logo.
















If you are well built, you can get away with it.

This guy has a whole Man of Sttel going on in his shorts.  Hard to see where his bulge begins.

Boxers give you a chance to display a lot of "S" logos.

More after the break.

My Hookup with Superman

Milwaukee, January 2014

I love bath houses.  The maze of warm, dimly-lit corridors.  The nude swimming.  The nude exercising.  The camaraderie.  The warmth.  The sexual promise.  I used to be a regular at the River Club in Upstate new York, and whenever I'm in town, I visit the Works in Indianapolis and the Flex Club in Clevelad.

But at Christmas 2013, I flew to Indianapolis, so no Flex Club, and there wasn't time to go to the Works.  I was feeling deprived.  There were still two weeks left before classes started.  Why not take a short "sex vacation"?

The nearest bathhouse was in Milwaukee, and I hadn't been there since I was five years old, so...

Milwaukee has lots of attractions, but I would spend most of my time in the Midtowne Spa.  And inside the spa, since the only guys I meet normally are slim, androgynous twinks, my goal was to hook up with five guys like this: macho, hairy, scruffy, muscular. And Older!

Thursday, Jan 9th

I arrived in Milwaukee at 10:30 am, rented a car, and drove to the Kimpton Hotel, in the Third Ward south of downtown.  In spite of the silly name, it's an upscale boutique hotel with an art deco feel and lots of quirky touches, like....

Ok, you're more interested in hearing about the sex.

The Midtowne Spa was a two-story cream-colored building, dwarfed by the Cold Storage building next door.  No sign outside, just a street number.

Downstairs was all exposed brick with a blue motif: locker rooms, small gym, a sauna, a steam room, a room with bunk beds, and an outdoor patio (closed for the winter).  Upstairs were  some corridors with private rooms, a game room, and a tv room.  No glory holes or orgy room.

Not very crowded: on weekdays, bathhouses tend to be crowded at lunchtime and after work, and I hit it just after the lunch rush, on a day when it was -5 degrees outside.  But I did manage to get an invitation back to the room of:

Older Guy #1: mid-40s, black, balding, hard biceps, with a thick Bratwurst+.  Kissing, cuddling, oral, conversation.

Also, I met Older Guy #2: mid-50s, white, very tall, white hair, Mortadella.  I went down on him in the steam room.

I left at 3:00, retrieved my car, and visited the Grohmann Museum, the Beefcake Museum of Milwaukee, then had dinner and worked out in the hotel gym.  In the evening I went to This Is It, one of the nicer gay bars in the U.S., but didn't pick up anyone.

Friday, January 10th

A little warmer, in the 20s.  I visited the Art Museum and the Pabst Mansion, returning to the bath house at noon for the lunchtime crowd.  Still not very busy!  I hung around in the video room and the steam room, and hooked up with:

Older Guy #3: white, not very old -- maybe in his 30s -- but very tall, with a massive hairy chest and a thick, average-sized penis.  He stood while I went down on him in the steam room.

Plus I double-teamed two young Hispanic guys with smooth chests and Bratwursts.

At 2:00 pm I left.  I had a 12-hour pass with in-out privileges, so I went to Marquette University and wandered around the campus, had dinner, and worked out in the hotel gym.

I returned at 9:00 pm for Fetish Night, wearing black shorts and a leather vest.

I expected a lot of muscle bears in chaps, but in fact there wasn't a lot of leather.  It was crowded with twinks in latex, a few police officers, "puppies," furries, weird Mardi Gras masks, and superheroes.


Including Superman: a guy in his mid-20s, shorter than me, with a long face and black wavy hair, wearing the complete costume, blue tights, buffed, basket, red "S" insignia, cape.  

He was very busy, kissing and fondling one twink while another was on his knees, going down on his gigantic, very hard Kielbasa.  But I've found that there's always room for one more.  I approached, knelt, and helped the twink go down on Superman  -- there was more than enough room for both of us on that huge shaft and baseball-sized head.

Then I stood, felt his chest and biceps -- they were real - and pushed his free hand down onto my crotch.  He pulled my head into a three-way kiss, and the twink on his knees started going down on us both.

I kept kissing and fondling him until only the two of us were left.

"Well, Perry, I think it's about time to go back to my room," he said in a deep theatrical voice.

Perry White, the blustering, white-haired editor of the Daily Planet?  Ok....

I followed Superman to his room, tore him out of his cosplay costume, and finished going down on him, then pulled him into the interfemoral position.  Good kisser.

His name was actually Pasco (short for Pasquale).  He was 25 years old, originally from Italy, but he had been in the U.S. since he was five years old.


"I like lots of superhero cosplay -- at a science fiction convention last month, I was Zorn from the Fox tv show, -- but for a fetish party I thought I'd go with the basics.  So -- about ready to go back to my apartment?  I'd really like to hold Perry White in my arms tonight."

"Um...I just got here," I admitted.  "I was hoping to mingle a bit." And meet Older Guys!

"Sure, no problem. Maybe we could get together for brunch tomorrow?"

He dressed in his street clothes and left.  I wandered back into Fetish Night, didn't see any older guys, but kissed and fondled a muscular twink dressed as Cupid, and went down on:

Older Guy #4: mid-40s, balding, hairy chest, muscular, small penis, in a puppy costume.  Unfortunately, he made "yipping" sounds when he spurted, and then tried to lick my face.  Gross!

Saturday, January 11

Pasco and I met for brunch, and then he invited himself along on my trip to Racine, about half an hour away.  We looked for my old house, and Hansche Elementary School, and the beach on Lake Michigan where I "married" the boy next door in second grade.  It's not usually a good idea to reminisce about your childhood on a first date, but Pasko didn't seem to mind.

After lunch at a brew pub, we drove back to Milwaukee, where he showed me his childhood house and Saint Thomas More High School,  where he was on the wrestling team.

It was 4:00 pm when he dropped me off at my hotel.  "So, what are you up for tonight?" he asked.

I didn't want to admit that I was going back to the bath house to try to score some Older Guys!  "I have no plans.  What did you have in mind?"

He grinned.  "I want to be double-teamed by Perry White and Jimmy Olsen.  How about if my friend and I drop by about 9:00?"

Jimmy Olsen was the teenage office boy at the Daily Planet.  I could meet a dozen teenagers a night back home.  I was on a quest....

But I could hardly refuse.

I had dinner and worked out in the hotel gym, and at 9:00 sharp, Pasco knocked on my door.

I thought he was kidding, but no, he was wearing a Superman costume under his coat.  And with him, dressed as Jimmy Olsen in a green vest and bow tie, was Older Guy #5