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Part 1

I should begin with a bit of an introduction. My name is James, and I’m a white, middle class American kid from Arlington Heights, Illinois. I am now 23, but most of this story takes place when I was 18 and just out of high school.

Now, I’m gay, and I really like the fact that I’m into guys – because I just don’t get girls. Guys I can understand. Love is something to strive for in the longer term, sex is something to do now that just feels great. That’s a philosophy I can really live with.

Like most gay kids from the northern suburbs of Chicago, I really didn’t have a great deal of opportunity to explore my sexuality as a kid in school. Sure – I fumbled inadequately as expected with several giggling and overweight girls, I also became very adept at masturbation, but I never followed through with any of my secret wishes to explore my body with other guys.

Had I been a little more forthcoming with my desires, I probably wouldn’t have had any trouble though. As a kid I developed very early, I’d gone through puberty by the time I was eleven. By my early teen years I was a pretty attractive guy by all accounts, and by the time I was 16 I had reached my full height of 6’2, my current weight of 205 lbs and had cultivated my shock of long yellow blonde hair into my trademark ponytail. I lost my virginity at the age of 14 with a senior at high school who thought I was a hot new senior – I never did put her right on that. When walking down the street, almost as many interested male eyes would look me up and down as female ones.

The episode I want to tell you about though began while I was still a senior at school. I was bored. There wasn’t much in my school life which “did it” for me. Early one Saturday morning as I sat in a stall of the men’s locker room at the local pool, having just taken ten minutes out of my daily two mile swim to jerk off, I watched the slow journey of the glob of semen working its way down the stall door. As the drop stretched from the bottom of the door, then landed with a splat on the floor, the realisation hit me that this pathetic event would probably be the highlight of my day. I had to do something!

Racing home on my bike I suddenly found that I had a new sense of vigour in me that I hadn’t felt for years. I was going to make something exciting happen in my life. I ran to my room and fired up my PC – there had to be something on the internet that would get me a new lease on life. I tried several searches which didn’t get me much, then by chance when I was searching for travel opportunities I found a site which listed all the student exchange programmes available in Illinois. This was it! I could go to some exotic part of the world!

But no – I was just weeks away from graduating. All those programmes were for kids to do their senior year in another country. Then I found it, a link from a link from a link. The Spoken English Exchange Program, or SEEP as they called it. It was a volunteer program for high school graduates who wanted to do international community education projects for a year before beginning college. SEEP was all about sending high achieving US high school grads to parts of the world where English was an emerging language and having them assist locals of a similar age group to practice their spoken English skills.

I read the site very carefully and checked other sites that mentioned it. I certainly didn’t want to get involved with a political or missionary style organization. It all appeared above board and surprisingly simple. It was funded primarily by the UN, and the exchange requests all came from the local people, so it seemed like the exchange participants should be well received.

Naturally, the deadline for applications for the next intake was that day, so without talking to anyone about it, I put together my online application right then and there. Three hours of typing later, it was ready and I pressed the submit button. The response page told me I would hear back from them within three weeks of the application deadline. I felt like I had achieved something – the first step to making my life just that little bit more interesting.

The next two weeks of school passed fairly uneventfully. I managed to get top grade in four of my classes without really trying, and finished inside the top five for the others. My parents and grandparents of course were very proud on graduation day. I, on the other hand, was having trouble controlling my erection all day when I found out just before the graduation ceremony that the totally hottest guy in the senior class had decided to be naked under his gown, and had proven it to a small group of us moments before the ceremony started by lifting up his gown for us all to see. And of course he was sitting next to me. And of course all through the ceremony I was looking at the soft but distinct outline of his cock in his lap. It amazes me at times what things become important to a guy!

When I got home early that hot June afternoon, a freshly graduated eighteen year old, I didn’t have a care in the world. I did have a lot of decisions to make about my short and long term future, but for now I was going to put them out of my mind and enjoy as much of the summer as I could. I threw off the cap and gown and went to my room. It was time to take care of that persistent erection. I peeled off my sweaty T shirt and shorts and threw them into the hamper. Then I pulled down my briefs, noticing a fairly large sticky wet spot at the front – that dude really had turned me on!

The briefs went on the floor and I sat down at my PC and started up my browser. A bit of twink porn was in order right about now. Quickly I opened a couple of free sites from my secret bookmarks file and within seconds I was looking at guys very similar to myself, and I was doing exactly what they were. Ever since I’d discovered gay porn on the net was so easy to find, most of my jerking off had been in this old vinyl covered office chair in front of my computer. The cracks in the seat cover had allowed the padding to become infused with the sweaty aroma of my balls and bum, and just sitting in the chair made me hard. If ever a CSI team brought their special lights into my bedroom, they would only need to look at that chair and the carpet under my computer desk to see quite a light display!

It wasn’t long before I was desperately grabbing at my briefs on the floor and holding them in position to catch my cum as it shot from my cock. I let out several grunts and sighed deeply as I watched the hot pale liquid shoot forcefully into the crotch area of the briefs. I waited until the last drops had been squeezed out, then balled up the briefs and tossed them into the hamper with the rest of my clothes. There was about a week’s worth of cum covered briefs and t-shirts in there that I had to take care of later that day. I looked up at my screen and closed the browser window with the video that had put me over the edge. Then I opened my email client and waited while it downloaded my messages.

There it was. The message I had secretly been hoping to see one day, but had decided it would never happen:

Subject: SEEP Intake Acceptance
From: projectadmin@seep.org.un
To: undisclosed recipients

Dear James,

It is with great pleasure I write to you today to inform you that you have reached the final round of selection for the SEEP language exchange program. We have a need for someone meeting your profile in the Island State (prospective UN membership pending) of Suluanda which is in the Sulu Archipelago between the nations of the Philippines and Malaysia.

We have completed extensive background checks on you, and have had glowing reports from your school and swim club president. However, we do need to confirm your suitability with an in-person interview in our Chicago office. Please contact Susan on 847-555-9945 as soon as possible to arrange a suitable time to meet. We would like to have you on site within three weeks if possible.

Congratulations on making through the tough selection process so far, and we look forward to working with you.

Shelly Stevens
Project Administrator – South East Asia
SEEP

Naturally I was excited. I grabbed my phone off the bed and began dialling – the battery was dead. I unlocked my door and ran downstairs, still naked, and grabbed the phone off the kitchen wall and dialled the number from the email. Thankfully my parents had both returned to work after the graduation ceremony, but I wouldn’t have cared if they had seen me standing there naked on the phone at that point. I quickly arranged an interview with Susan for 3:30 that afternoon. It didn’t give me much time as it was already 2:40 and the drive in my 1982 shitbox would take at least 40 minutes.

I raced upstairs, 3 and four at a time and ran into the bathroom where I threw on the shower and leapt in even before it had warmed up. I kept my hair as dry as possible, I didn’t have time to dry it properly, so just soaped my armpits, cock, balls and crack quickly and rinsed clean. The shower was on for no more than 90 seconds. I leapt out and grabbed my towel, quickly giving myself a cursory rub down. Threw the towel on the floor, for which I would later naturally pay hell, and dashed on some under arm deodorant. Looking in the mirror I decided I didn’t have time for a shave, it wasn’t too bad, and so ran back to my room to search for clean clothes.

For me it was a record departure time. From being naked and sweaty with cum on my pubes, to being clean and dressed and in my car took a grand total of 6 minutes. I arrived at the Chicago area offices of SEEP with two minutes to spare. Enough time for me to take a good long look at myself in the rear view mirror and to make sure my eyebrows were smooth and there was nothing stuck between my teeth. Did I mention before that I was rather vain?

The interview was basically just a discussion. Susan asked me about how my final grades were and we discussed life in general. She asked me if I had a girlfriend and when I said no, she paused and asked if there was anyone else like that. I immediately realised she was trying to ask if I had a boyfriend without freaking me out. I smiled and said there was nobody, female or male. Susan smiled and visibly relaxed. She said that she was glad I had realised what the question was, and that the fact I was single made it a lot easier to select me as I was less likely to have emotional problems when away for a year. Susan then looked down at her papers for a few moments, then back at me. She looked almost pensive.

“James, there are one or two things about Suluanda which I think we need to clear up before we go further. I have here the UN social anthropologists brief report on the people of Suluanda and there’s a few things which might raise some doubts in your mind. Is it ok if I speak frankly? Some of these things may surprise you and possibly even offend you.”

“Go ahead, I’m tough to offend.” I said smiling.

“Ok, well, first thing is that the nation is very small, There are no more than 8,000 inhabitants. There are three main villages and scattered farming and fishing settlements. The only way in and out is by boat, and there are currently only three satellite phone stations on the whole island, one in each village.”

“So, it’s a small isolated place – I think I can deal with that.”

“Alright, next thing is this. Unmarried young men, after leaving the family home, live in large communal buildings, and the sort of buildings we are talking about here are thatched roofs and mud floors. They can also make free use of family homes which are no longer inhabited, for whatever reason. The unmarried girls stay living with their parents until they marry.

“And, the more interesting part is this, and I quote: ‘It is the tradition of all the peoples of the Sulanda and outlying islets that until married, the boys of the island do not wear clothing of any sort. Most young men do not marry until they have reached the ages of 23 or 24.’ So, what that means is that to fit in with the group you would be aiming to assist, the young men of the island, you would need to be able to cope with that.”

That was not something I had expected her to say. I didn’t really know how to respond to what I had just been told. I sat and thought for a few moments, trying to find a comment or question to respond with.

“Ahh, interesting. So, would I be expected to live in these communal houses and be naked too?”

“To be honest with you James, I don’t know. Usually in a situation like this where there are significantly different cultural norms, a community will grant significant latitude to a visitor from another culture, so there are probably arrangements that could be made for you. However, and I’m not suggesting that this is at all required, but often if a visitor on the program makes an effort to conform with local customs, this makes the integration process that little bit easier.”

“Hmm, well, I have no idea what I would do in the actual situation, but I think I’d probably want to do what the locals do. I guess I don’t really mind being naked, but I wonder how they would react to a tall blonde white dude wandering around the hut naked!” I chuckled as I said this and a broad smile opened on Susan’s face.

“Well, I’m sure you would be a talking point for a few days! But let’s face it, you probably would be anyway – being the only white face on the island! OK, well, you had better make sure your passport is in order and won’t expire for 18 months, because you are going to the East Asian tropics in a week young man!”

Continue to part 2


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