He asked me what I was doing for the rest of the weekend and I asked him where he was from.“I’m German,” he replied, in Cantonese, so there you go.“How long have you been in Hong Kong?” I then asked.“Twenty-seven years,” he admitted sheepishly, “I was here before you were born.”It wasn’t true, but I decided to let him think that I was younger than I was.“The rest is tips,” he explained as he held up seven hundred dollars at me.When I got back downstairs, I decided to smoke a cigarette before getting on the train. Gay sex A few more strings followed and splattered sloppily over his stomach and thighs. I ran just about the length of his fist, and he made quick work of me, so that as much as I tried to focus on my job—a massage, which was what he wanted—soon it was my turn to pry his hand from my cock.“Here, just lie back,” I said to him, trying to ignore the droplet of pre-cum threatening to drip from the tip of my cock.He folded his arms behind his head, closed his eyes, and behaved for a while. He had a few tattoos here and there, and hair everywhere. He—my paying customer, as I kept reminding myself—emitted a
