What I Wrote, With What Inspiration: “That One Exception”

[KeithD]

sr71plt, “That One Exception” (That One Exception - Gay Male - Literotica.com)

(You’ll notice how everything was screwed around so that RL was inspiration rather than memoir.)

I worked for an international news agency during the seventies through the nineties. One Christmas-New Year’s period, both the chief and deputy chief of our Tokyo bureau had immediate need to be on leave. The answer was that I was sent there to cover for the bureau chief over the holidays.

The day I arrived in Tokyo I went to the Foreign Correspondent’s Club in the evening to unwind. There I fell in with a large, robust Aussie, Sandy, whose mere presence lit up the room. He was all smiles and jokes and “Good on ya,” the most personable and attractive man in the club that night. We wound up in my hotel room at the New Japan Hotel near the U.S. embassy (an Akasaka district hotel that burned to the ground years later after I’d recommended it to everyone as a good place to stay) and in bed.

Both of us scurried around to get to work late the next morning. He’d said he worked for a news agency, sort of a given if we’d met at the Foreign Correspondent’s Club. We hadn’t established that we worked at the same one—that he was an associate editor in the Tokyo bureau I was to manage over the Christmas and New Year’s period.

I had a strict policy of no sex at the office, but I hadn’t been given a chance to apply that here. So, we made the most of the time we had together then.

I went back to Bangkok. That summer, I returned to Washington, D.C., for a meeting, stopping en route in Hong Kong. There I met Sandy by surprise in the Hong Kong Foreign Correspondent’s Club and we wound up in my Merlin Hotel room and bed. He had been reassigned as an associate editor in our Hong Kong Bureau.

I was pulled from Asia for four years for a stint as a propaganda analyst in Washington, D.C., and then in the Middle East for covert operations. Then I was reassigned to a second stint in Bangkok as the international news agency deputy bureau chief. Sandy had transferred there as the chief monitor.

By then my professional ambition was able to override my sexual urges--sort of. Although Sandy and I became a tennis pair at the American embassy in Bangkok, we didn’t bed in Bangkok. Instead, moving into our second year there together with heightened sexual tension, we found reasons to be in Hong Kong together and to bed there.

One of our Cambodian monitors in Bangkok, Sue (an Americanization of her Cambodian name), an elegant, gracious lady who had found herself stranded in Bangkok when her father and mother, her father being Cambodia’s ambassador to ASEAN headquarters in Bangkok at the time, were murdered by the Khmer Rouge when they returned to Cambodia on a vacation, and Sandy became a pair and married.

Sandy and I couldn’t continue at that point. We both had too much regard for Sue. I returned to Washington for headquarters upper management and Sandy and Sue moved to Australia, where they both went to work for a news agency there.

They became somewhat estranged over time and, when I had moved to be bureau chief in the Middle East, I received a letter asking if I could get to Hong Kong for a weekend with Sandy. I could and made arrangements. Before I left, I got another letter saying that Sue had cancer and Sandy had to remain in Australia to take care of her. By the next year, Sue had recovered and Sandy wanted to meet in Hong Kong again. Once again I made arrangements and arrived in Hong Kong. Sandy didn’t show. When I returned to the Middle East, there was a letter from Sue waiting for me. Sandy had had a heart attack and died when he was at the airport ready to leave for a business meeting in Hong Kong.

 

[EmilyMiller]

It’s a moving recounting. More so as you are being restrained about your feelinngs.

I think these WIWAS are the best thing to happen to AH in some time.

Emily

 

[AG31]

sr71plt, “That One Exception” (That One Exception - Gay Male - Literotica.com)

(You’ll notice how everything was screwed around so that RL was inspiration rather than memoir.)

I worked for an international news agency during the seventies through the nineties. One Christmas-New Year’s period, both the chief and deputy chief of our Tokyo bureau had immediate need to be on leave. The answer was that I was sent there to cover for the bureau chief over the holidays.

The day I arrived in Tokyo I went to the Foreign Correspondent’s Club in the evening to unwind. There I fell in with a large, robust Aussie, Sandy, whose mere presence lit up the room. He was all smiles and jokes and “Good on ya,” the most personable and attractive man in the club that night. We wound up in my hotel room at the New Japan Hotel near the U.S. embassy (an Akasaka district hotel that burned to the ground years later after I’d recommended it to everyone as a good place to stay) and in bed.

Both of us scurried around to get to work late the next morning. He’d said he worked for a news agency, sort of a given if we’d met at the Foreign Correspondent’s Club. We hadn’t established that we worked at the same one—that he was an associate editor in the Tokyo bureau I was to manage over the Christmas and New Year’s period.

I had a strict policy of no sex at the office, but I hadn’t been given a chance to apply that here. So, we made the most of the time we had together then.

I went back to Bangkok. That summer, I returned to Washington, D.C., for a meeting, stopping en route in Hong Kong. There I met Sandy by surprise in the Hong Kong Foreign Correspondent’s Club and we wound up in my Merlin Hotel room and bed. He had been reassigned as an associate editor in our Hong Kong Bureau.

I was pulled from Asia for four years for a stint as a propaganda analyst in Washington, D.C., and then in the Middle East for covert operations. Then I was reassigned to a second stint in Bangkok as the international news agency deputy bureau chief. Sandy had transferred there as the chief monitor.

By then my professional ambition was able to override my sexual urges--sort of. Although Sandy and I became a tennis pair at the American embassy in Bangkok, we didn’t bed in Bangkok. Instead, moving into our second year there together with heightened sexual tension, we found reasons to be in Hong Kong together and to bed there.

One of our Cambodian monitors in Bangkok, Sue (an Americanization of her Cambodian name), an elegant, gracious lady who had found herself stranded in Bangkok when her father and mother, her father being Cambodia’s ambassador to ASEAN headquarters in Bangkok at the time, were murdered by the Khmer Rouge when they returned to Cambodia on a vacation, and Sandy became a pair and married.

Sandy and I couldn’t continue at that point. We both had too much regard for Sue. I returned to Washington for headquarters upper management and Sandy and Sue moved to Australia, where they both went to work for a news agency there.

They became somewhat estranged over time and, when I had moved to be bureau chief in the Middle East, I received a letter asking if I could get to Hong Kong for a weekend with Sandy. I could and made arrangements. Before I left, I got another letter saying that Sue had cancer and Sandy had to remain in Australia to take care of her. By the next year, Sue had recovered and Sandy wanted to meet in Hong Kong again. Once again I made arrangements and arrived in Hong Kong. Sandy didn’t show. When I returned to the Middle East, there was a letter from Sue waiting for me. Sandy had had a heart attack and died when he was at the airport ready to leave for a business meeting in Hong Kong.

Thanks for sharing!