The Headhunter

Thuong shot at least once. Lewis felt the lava injected deep within and he came to life, his arctic Canadian reserve dissolved. Thuong stretched his thighs and untied knots of pleasure

Lewis had never been to this part of the city. It had the dank warmth of evaporated rain, he was only in a single ply work shirt but it started sticking and soaked through. He could feel the sweat running down his wrists and the gentle lick of cool air touching his forearms, merciful tendrils of airconditioning wafting from the thousands of mobile phone kiosks that lined the thorough fare.

He could barely catch up with Thuong. This is an initial discussion but somehow it became this urban expedition to the other half of the city. The colours on the streets grew intensely colourful and cheaper.

He skidded on what appeared as the squished innards of a Crow, Thuong was at least ten steps away but he turned and clocked Lewis’ s stumble.

“No Grab bikes in this district, alleys too narrow. Keep up”. He jerked a sinewy thumb at the end of a row of shops (shop houses?).

Narrow concrete stilts mimicking Ionic columns, yellowed with incense soot. Seven to nine floors of impossibly broad plaster rococo balconies, festooned end to end. There was a row of screaming parakeets, locked in comically gigantic birdcages, flapping and squirmishing. In the middle an Asianized bas relief plaster statue Adonis, stood erect before them.

Thuong swung open a heavy cast iron gate and dove in. Lewis could barely react and slipped past just before the electronic locks re-engaged.

The courtyard was filled with local guys in various states of

undress. A heady perfume of cheap Jasmine drifted as steam poured out from several French Windows. Lewis felt relieved that he had been ODing Creatine since January, at least he wouldn't be found wanting infront of these Vietnamese gymbros.

Thuong was already in his thongs. His “business attire” collapsed into a heap on the dirty marble tiles. That dragon/phoenix tattoo looked like it was about to take flight and the water sliding off his bronzed pecs, made Lewis realize that this was a man who had deep cavities. 1.7 meters of pure muscle.

Lewis felt the need to overcompensate a bit and wordlessly slid off his clothes.

“We don't hire anyone who doesn't have a certain BMI, it shows how much discipline you have. ”

Thuong motioned him along, they stopped before the massage pool which was bizarrely neon red lit in the broad Saigon sun. A cabaret of Vietboys caterwauled into the water, he noticed that all their dicks were swinging about. His Saigon headhunter slipped beneath the Koolaid bubbles and resurfaced, an Asian American Christian Bale/male cologne mannequin

“Why are you breathing so hard?” Lewis felt a light python grip on his pulse.

“It's just that this isn't how we do things in Vancouver, I'm still in shock”.

“Relax, I'm just getting to know you” He felt a warm palm on the nape of his neck, and it wandered down his back. Lewis immediately relaxed as Thong’s finger tips expertly danced down his spine. Blood rushed through his thighs and he forgot the long flight, his lease on the apartment in Saigon, arguing with his Chief Engineer on C++ coding mistakes. He drank in that sweat steam.

Lewis realized he was having a giant boner. But Thong didn't seem surprised. The phoenix on his bicep moved enthusiastically. He glanced to the right and motioned for the pool boy. His huge palm slipped beneath the bubbles again. .

Lewis felt a rubbery grip on his balls. There was a click. A finger slid into his cock shaft while a meat staff prised his hole open. He widened his eyes.

“White boy has a strong cock. The balsac is bulging, you want to relax some more?“ An iron palm claw pinched his right tit and rhythmically twisted. He felt that he could jackhammer concrete and burn a hole through the Crimson bubbling water. . A warm ooze was steadily leaking and drifted upwards in the Red-Neon pool.

“You mine white boy, you don't shoot until I dry you”. Thong thundered in a martial command. His Phoenix claw tightened around Lewis's fuckstick shaft, the latter froze in the water.

His butt was now jawed wide, a veiny dragon pillar muscled in, he squirmed in the ass voltage but Thuong's claw pressed a vein on his chest. He obeyed. The pillar slid past Lewis's prostate and into the second gate within.

Lewis lost track of the hours, and the water clouded with his cock ooze. Rising streams of white and salty yellow. He didn't know how many times he came or pissed. Or both.

Thuong shot at least once. Lewis felt the lava injected deep within and he came to life, the arctic Canadian reserve dissolved instantly. Thuong stretched his thighs and untied knots down below, steadily unlocking Lewis's deep reserves. The other Saigon gymbros had gathered to watch and sometimes he felt them joining in the fun. The scented jasmine incense danced around the chlorinated water and merged with the salty stinky of spunk and piss. Man-fun champagne.

In the early evening, the sun sank lower like the low growl of a stationary Lambourghini. The pool boys set down a plastic tray of water and Macallan on rocks.

Thong was on the side of the pool, lithe muscle at rest.

“Lewis you start on Monday, our offices are in Binh Tan, It'll pick you up at 0830”.

Thongs eyes glinted slightly in the hazy light. The headhunter is always one shot one kill.