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Thai Thoughts And Anecdotes Part 10

  • Written by Dana
  • September 12th, 2003
  • 10 min read


Thai Thoughts And Anecdotes 10



1. Na and I have a history together. We have been together several times. She is a lousy prostitute. But she is sweet. Lovable. Innocent, believe it or not! I like the color of her skin. I like her face. I like her voice. I like the boyfriend-girlfriend experience with her. I flatter her outrageously. I tell her that she could be a model. I tell her that she could be an American movie actress. She doesn't believe any of it. She calls me 'sweet mouth' which means that I am a lying seducer who can't be trusted. She loves it. So do I. It is a lover's game that we play. The only thing that she is really good at is long, slow, lazy BJ's. They are so long and slow that we have conversations with each other while she is doing it. In a way, it is intimate. Almost like we are married. Afterwards, we generally have a picnic in the bed. I had run in to her by accident outside the Nana Hotel. I was really on my way across the street to the bars of the Nana Entertainment Plaza when she leaped out at me in the parking lot of the Nana Hotel. What a country. I've got woman leaping at me. So we go down Soi 4 to get some 7-11 junk food and some drinks and some brazed sidewalk chicken. I've noticed there is never any food overlap here. She can't eat the food I eat, and I can't eat the weird things she buys. So we always end up with an armful of food. Then back to the room. Now we are post-BJ and naked and in the bed eating. She is laying propped up with a pillow and I am sitting cross-legged beside her. I have put a pillowcase on her stomach and I am using her stomach and her flattened breasts as a table. Her breasts are covered with cashew nuts and M&M candies that I am having fun sucking up into my mouth. Life is a lot more fun when you leave maturity behind. I've got pretzels hanging on her nipples. Her stomach is covered with chicken and yogurt cups, and my soda and straw is between her legs. If this isn't happiness, I don't know what is. My dick is dead from a BJ and I am eating chicken and candy off a naked woman. What could possibly go wrong!? Then she drops the bomb. . . ! She wants me to give her 20,000baht. Now, one reason I have graduated to picking up freelancers is because I do not want to pay the 600baht barfine the bars require. And this chick wants 20,000baht. What for you ask? Well, it turns out that she has two friends in the 'business' that are working in Singapore and apparently they are making a killing. She wants to go join them. But a Thai needs to post a 20,000baht bond to get admitted to Singapore, and preferably should be coming into the country as part of a couple. I think I got that right. Anyway, here is her plan. We will pretend that we are betrothed to each other, I will take her to Singapore, and of course pay the 20,000baht bond. I'll stay with her two friends who will allow me to bonk them. She will pay me back. Then I can return to Thailand. So I get to go to Singapore and bonk for free. And people ask me why I like to go to Thailand for vacations!! You couldn't make something like this up. Since lying is the number one social skill necessary in male-female relationships, I decide not to say "No" right away. Instead, I adopt the quiet demeanour of the thoughtful. I look as if the idea is interesting, possibly has merit, and that I might actually be considering it. That night she treats me like gold.

2. Before I made my last trip to Thailand I wrote a letter to Wan telling her that I was coming and that I would really like to see her again. I sent the letter TWO MONTHS in advance of my departure date so that she would have plenty of time to write back to me. No return letter. So I sent another letter ONE MONTH prior to my departure date and I included money for return postage and a self-addressed envelope. No return letter. Nothing daunted, my first night in Pattaya I go looking for her. I am wearing a T-shirt that I have had made that has a picture of the two of us on the front. I took a photo of us to a laminating store and they put the picture of us on the shirt. It looks great. I go into the All Girls Beautiful Bar on Soi Pattayaland 2 and ask the mamasan if Wan is still working there. I point to her picture on the shirt. The mamasan says no and little else. One of the girls up on stage remembers me. She says that Wan is maybe now working at the Rodeo bar just down the street. I go into the Rodeo bar and point at the shirt. The mamasan says that she works there but that she has 'gone home'. Somehow, this mamasan's information seems suspect to me. Someone should do some research into how mamasan's brains work. I don't think they are like you and me. Anyway, I had remembered from April that Wan had told me that she might get a job on Soi 8. So off I go to Soi 8. I visit every single bar from 2nd road to Beach road. I order about 25 'cover charge' cokes, my shirt gets a lot of attention, but no Wan. The next morning I go to the tour director in my hotel, a nice woman named Anna who has helped me with goofy personal issues in the past. I have Wan's phone number. But I can't make phone calls in Thailand. The phone is like a shark or a horse. It senses my approach, it knows I am inferior to the task, and then it hurts me. So in Thailand I pay people to make phone calls for me. So for 50baht Anna calls Wan's number. There is a long conversation with someone. No Wan. I give up. I am beaten. I've thought about her and I for six months and now it is just not going to happen. I had imagined the things we would do together. We would go bowling, and we would go to the new aquarium, and we would go to the Buddhist temple on the hill and release 'good luck' birds. Now, none of that is going to happen.

Two weeks later when I got home, my concierge handed me a giant stack of mail held together with two big rubber bands. There on the top was a letter from Wan. She couldn't wait to see me.

3. There are only two days of vacation left and I am looking for a guarantee. Adventure and new experiences are fine but I only get to Thailand twice a year; and we are now in the 'can not waste any time' part of the vacation schedule. I am looking for a sexual guarantee. So I leave the Nana hotel and go across the street to the Obsessions bar. The Obsessions bar is a tranny bar. Honk if you love transvestites! It has the sexiest girls, the best music, the best sound system, and the best attitude. Trannies are all about sex and this place is rocking. I walk in and am instantly assaulted by three trannies. I don't really like this, but it seems to be written into the tranny code of ethics. Subtle they are not. It works out OK though because the one on my left is hot. She pulls down her top to show me her fantastic breasts. Her stomach is flat and her waist is small. She has an exotic looking face. I don't waste any time. I stand up, whip out 600baht, and tell her to go get dressed. Off she goes happy and waving the money to her loser friends. She has a man.

Very fast she comes out in her street clothes and she is smoking. Bare midriff, high heels, tight pants, exposed breasts, jewellery and makeup. She is about six feet tall in heels. I am 5'3". What a couple we made as we walked out of the Nana Plaza. She expects me to walk her across the street to the Nana hotel but I don't. Instead, I take a right down Soi 4 and then I turn right again onto Sukhumvit. After a block of walking, she looks at me questioningly. I make the walking sign with my fingers. I hold her at arms length and show her off to others on the sidewalk. I smile at her. I tell her publicly how beautiful she is. Now she gets it. I want to display her. I want to brag. Now she has a rocket in her rear, she is ramrod straight, her lips are smiling and her eyes are bright. She is jabbing the sidewalk with her heels and she is jerking and swaying her hips. Lookout–the sex train is coming. She is happy. A man is proud of her. We walk and walk, almost all the way to Asoke station. I finally stop her at a sidewalk vendor that sells stuffed animals, and dolls, and teddy bears to the bar girls. I buy her a stuffed dog. She is almost teary. A real man is treating her like a real woman.

She was a pre-op tranny. Her body was like an amusement park. It didn't matter where you looked or where you were, there was something to do. If you can think of it–we did it. She left mouth bruises all over my neck and almost sucked the chrome off the trailer hitch. Grinding her and jamming her just like a woman, her breath was coming in short, raspy gasps and bursts. Now it was time for the main event. Pulling myself up on my shins, I reached under her hip with both hands and turned her over. Now it is show time. Fuck the stuffed dog. Her long arms are spread and her talon nails are dug in. I take inventory. I feel fine and my lungs are clear. I've had a BJ two hours earlier, so there is no way I'm going to come. I'm a eunuch machine. A piston. I'm 54 going on 19. Earlier, I had dropped a 100ml bomb of Viagra and it is kicking in. You could model my dick at a tent peg convention. I ease in and start slow. There is no hurry. I'm up on my fists and my forearms are jammed into her ribs. Her head is turned to one side, she is clear-eyed, and she is breathing slow and deep. She is pacing herself. She can see the same thing out ahead of her that I can see. There is a long, clear sandy beach ahead of us. The sun is rising. And these two horses are going to run, and run, and run, and run, and run. No shame, no modesty, no wishing or hoping, no excuses, no condoms. Just SEX.

The next night I went back to the Obsessions bar. Telephone, telegraph, telewoman, teletranny. Nothing travels faster than gossip. Angie had told her friends everything. There were about twelve girls working the bar. Not all of them were interested in me. But four of them were interested in me and they were waiting for me. They knew the deal. They knew the rules. They knew what to expect and they knew what was expected of them. They were players. They were ready. All I had to do was pick one. It was my last night in Bangkok. The last thing I remember is collapsing on the back of a sweaty, moaning woman and feeling like a shot dog. There is nothing sweeter than a guarantee.

Stickman says:

No more wisdom from Dana. A tranny…you fucked a man. That is highly bloody questionable. You've got balls to admit it though, I'll give you that.