My Night With Nawang

This story was originally published in the Nifty Archive under my other nom-de-plume, Colonel Calverley and under the title of ‘At The Concert’

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and of love. This story may contain erotic and/or sexually explicit behaviour between consenting adults. If it is illegal for you to, or you find this sort of work offensive, don't download or read it!

The people in this story do not use protection because diseases don't exist here. However, in our world they do so please use caution and protection.

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MY NIGHT WITH NAWANG

I was fortunate enough to have been given a free ticket to a brass band concert at the local military academy where the participating bands were the Royal Artillery band, the Band of the Scots Guards, the local Military School of Music Band and the Band of the Brigade of Gurkhas.

I don't know whether you are familiar with the Gurkhas, but they come from Nepal and are a regiment within the british army. Being Nepalese, they are fairly small in stature but have the reputation of being fearless in
battle.

After the introductory trumpet fanfare the first couple of bands entered the arena, marching to their corps marches played at the normal `quick march' speed. When the Gurkhas entered, however, the pace sped up to almost double time and the band almost ran into the arena. Being a man who likes men of short stature (probably as boy substitutes) I was immediately taken with these men in their smart green uniforms and was trying (without too much success) to imagine what they would look like out of their uniforms.

Half way through the first half of the concert I noticed that there was to be a section of Nepalese music with traditional Nepalese dancing. Imagine my surprise when eight of the `fearless soldiers' that I had seen at the beginning of the concert suddenly appeared barefoot and in traditional Nepalese costume dancing with one another. It was immediately pretty obvious that one of their number was not one of the regular dancers as he kept making mistakes, but after looking at the delightful smile on his face
I felt that I could forgive him anything. He was in his early twenties, short in stature as most Nepalese are, with jet black hair, a really beautiful smile, very slim build, even bordering on skinny, and very, very light on his feet.

As he got more and more into the dance so the mistakes became fewer and fewer and I became aware that I was staring at him and ignoring the other seven dancers. What's more he had obviously spotted that I was staring at him and he smiled at me at every opportunity. Furthermore when the time came for their bow he faced me directly and bowed low towards me.

The dancers made their exit and I thought that this might be the last time I saw him but no, in the second half of the concert we were to be treated to a display of `Khukuri Dancing' where each of four men carried a Khukuri. I myself was not certain what the exact definition of a Khukuri was, so I looked it up on the internet and found the definition, which I have copied exactly and imagine that it was translated from the original Nepalese.

`Khukuri is most famous knife because of the decisive slashing edge of the Khukuri which became well known to those who faced it in the battlefields since 1814 when enemies first experienced its effectiveness when they faced the Gurkhas. Thus the legend was born. It is all purpose knife of Nepal. These people are called the Gurkhas who form the formidable Brigades both in the British and Indian Armies. Its a formidable razor shape weapon and a cutting tool. What Khukuri really did, and still does is a superclean slaughter.

Needless to say, the dance was amazing, performed by four of the dancers and I was pleased to note that one of them was my friend from the first half, but dancing this time with much more skill.

Again, he kept looking straight at me and I was returning his attention. He again bowed straight to me at the end of the performance and smiled at me as he left the platform.

The concert eventually came to its conclusion and the dancers came out for their final bow and to receive the applause that they had well and truly earned. I noticed that `my little man' had a piece of paper in his hand and after the National Anthem was played and everybody started to leave the stage I turned round to collect my belongings and was suddenly aware that there was a hand on my shoulder. As I turned around there was `my little man' standing in front of me and he was pushing his piece of paper into my top jacket pocket. He smiled at me, I smiled back and then he disappeared into the throng of people trying to make their way home.

Eventually I got to my car and when I had made myself comfortable and started the engine I remembered the piece of paper in my pocket. I took it out and there, in very strange handwriting I read `Kindly meet me in the Saloon Bar of the Duke of Cambridge public house tonight.'

It was pretty obvious that the note had been written by somebody who was not used to writing with the Roman alphabet, but had really made an effort over it, so I felt it my duty to keep the rendezvous and headed for the pub in question.

When I reached the pub the car park was full and so were the surrounding streets. I drove right round the back of the pub and managed to squeeze into a small area between the pub wall and the house next door. There were no other cars there and I was not blocking anybody's access. When I got inside the pub it was pretty full of concert-goers and there was very little room and only about fifteen minutes to go to closing time. I fought my way to the bar and was in the throes of ordering a drink when I felt my little Nepalese man sidling up next to me and insisting on paying for my beer in heavily accented but perfectly understandable English. We managed to find a corner and he asked me whether I had enjoyed the concert and I told him that I had, especially the dancing. `Normally, I only dance with Khukuri but tonight other dancer ill and I have to do other dance. Make many mistakes and Captain not pleased with me.'

`I think you danced beautifully' I told him `You are very graceful and also very handsome.'

The bell rang for last orders and I asked him if he wanted another drink. He declined, so I suggested we get out of the smoky atmosphere and we went to the car. As I unlocked it, Nawang (as he told me his name was) was looking around and after we got in he said to me `Nobody can see us, no?)

`No' I replied. He took my left hand in his right, leaned towards me and kissed me lightly on the lips. His lips felt like velvet against mine, and my cock was instantly straining at the leash. `That was lovely' I said `How long have we got before you have to be back at the barracks?'

He told me that he had reported back to barracks on the way to the pub, and then slipped out again, so as far as the army was concerned, he was tucked up in bed. Of course, my intention was that he would indeed be tucked up in bed as soon as possible -- MINE!

I drove home, which was only a matter of a couple of miles, and we went indoors. I poured us each a glass of whisky and Nawang took a sip, then put his lips to mine and shared his drink with me. I did the same and shared it with him and we continued until both glasses were empty. We were standing so close that I could feel his hardness against mine and it was all I could do to stop myself cumming there and then, but we managed to get upstairs and into the bedroom before we tore one another's' clothes off and collapsed on the bed, a writhing mass of arms, legs, lips and cocks.

`Please' said Nawang `please be gentle. I may be a fearless soldier but I am a gentle lover.'

I eased off the pressure a little and we continued kissing as my hands explored his skinny little body. I could feel his ribs though his skin and as my hands cupped his little bum, I could even feel the bones there. Moving my hands around to the front, I was not surprised that his cock was perfectly in proportion to the rest of his body and was therefore only about 5 inches hard, but it was HARD and would have looked incongruous if it had been any bigger. I lowered myself in the bed and took him in my mouth. Being so small I had no difficulty in taking his whole length in one, and as I did so his whole body bucked and he muttered something in his own language, but no translation was necessary. I could see by the look on his face that he was in ecstasy.

I continued to suck him until he said `Cumming soon but want you inside me first'.

I reached across on to the bedside table and found the lubricant. I kept this to hand as I turned him on to his stomach and again lowered myself down the bed. I spread his cheeks with my hands and ran my tongue down his crack. He shuddered and moaned and I knew that he could not wait for long. As my tongue reached his hole he bucked again and as he did the tip of my tongue slipped inside him. He spoke again in Nepalese and then said `Sorry, so good that cannot form English words.' I told him not to worry and took a fingerful of lubricant and greased his hole liberally. I then greased my cock and pushed the head to his hole. His breathing rate increased as I pushed gently and felt the head slip inside him. ‘AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!' he exclaimed. I left things as they were for a little while until he became accustomed to me and then slowly, inch by inch slid the rest of my cock inside. `Ahhhh, sooooo gooood' he sighed.

Very gently I started pumping in and out. Gently for me as well as him because I was already very close to climax. After a few minutes he whispered `Want turn over and look at you.' Being very supple from dancing he raised one leg and swung it over my head, so that he could lie on his back without me removing my cock from his arse. He smiled up at me as I restarted my pumping and that smile almost broke me into pieces. He was absolutely gorgeous and even though it was around one a.m. the sun seemed to be shining every time he smiled. We were both very aroused and I seemed to be hitting his g-spot with every thrust. `Cumming now' he said and so was I. Within seconds I was filling his arse with my cum and moments after he shot half-a-dozen thick ropes of his semen up between us, reaching our chins. I licked some from him and he did likewise with me and we shared it with a kiss, gazing into one another's eyes.

`Thank you' I said `that was wonderful'. He smiled his sunshine smile and replied `for me too'.

We lay in each others arms until we fell asleep shortly afterwards. I woke briefly a couple of hours later and we were spooning, Nawang behind me with his hard little cock resting in my arse crack. It was my turn to smile as I drifted off again, to be woken at five a.m. with Nawang saying `Must go now, have to find way back before 6.30. I told him not to hurry as I would give him a lift, but I needed him for something else first!

We had a leisurely sex session for an hour, after which I slipped on a pair of shorts and a tee shirt and drove him back to barracks.

I dropped him where the outside wall became a fence and there was a tiny gap in between, not big enough for a child to get through, but Nawang somehow managed. As he reached the other side he turned and blew me a kiss, then disappeared behind the wall.

I drove home nursing one of the hardest erections ever and could hardly walk from the car to the house, where I had to give myself immediate relief thinking about Nawang. He was a lovely guy, but I wouldn't like to bump into him in a dark alley with his khukuri in his hand!