Amazing Nat

Nat was amazing. I met her in the Thermae and we hit it off immediately. She was the aggressor, starting the conversation and suggesting we go together. She looked different from most of the girls there, and she was. It wasn’t just her physical looks that set her apart, but I’ll describe them anyways. Her hair was shorter than most, cut in the severe style I would expect to see on an American businesswoman, or a lesbian. She was thin, but not in an unhealthy way, and had an ass that looked like it belonged to a skinny black girl. She had a wide, open smile and light brown skin. She wasn’t an Isaan girl. She was born in Rayong, raised in Bangkok. Her mother was half German. She was twenty four.

She told me that she worked at Robinson's as a stock girl, and was at Thermae to meet a man. I’m convinced that Nat was a nymphomaniac. Our first night together was good, and ended up extending through the weekend in my condo. She wasn’t clingy, didn’t profess her love right away or act jealous. How could she? She had just spent a month with her European girlfriend, learning to scuba dive and having sex. Nat wasn’t bisexual in the way most women with five or six beers in them are bisexual. Nat was on the knife’s edge. It was all good to her.

She would tell me about the big lesbian orgies that her occasional visitor girlfriends would arrange, complaining “Ooh, sex too mutt. Too many toys. Very tired.” Her name had spread among the lesbian sex tourist crowd, and she would get random phone calls from strangers arriving in the country, “hello…uh…you don’t know me, but my name is Helga.” Her ex-boyfriend didn’t like the fact that she was bi. It was somehow an insult to his masculinity if she went with women. I was shocked at his lack of judgment.

Money never changed hands between us. Her ex had set her up with her own foot massage business, and now she owned a small shop that was doing well. I think she was looking for a little stability in her life, or at least a base of operations for sexual exploration. Nat told me stories of some of her escapades. I might not have believed her except she had no reason to lie. She told me how she had sex with a member of an American “Boy Band” that had done a concert in Bangkok the year prior. She had seduced her neighbor’s husband, then the wife, then had them together. Soon we were embarking on explorations of our own.

The first was with her sister, but that turned into a disaster when the condom broke. We were bored one afternoon so we called a massage service. Nat did most of the massaging, concentrating on the masseuse’s tits. Nat wanted to see me with a katoey. I politely declined. Nat and I dated off and on, not seriously, but having fun when our schedules allowed. I was sure she was seeing others, and she knew I was. She said that if I wanted her to be my serious girlfriend I could still see other women, but could not bring them home and make her lose face. That is unless of course if it was someone we brought home together. It is evidence of the sickness one experiences as a new resident of Bangkok that even this open arrangement was too restrictive for me. I was becoming a nymphomaniac too.

We met one evening for drinks at the Biergarten on Soi Seven. She told me how a competitor in the foot massage business who happened to be a policeman had been coming into her shop asking the girls to go work at his place. A few days earlier he had come in for a foot massage. Immediately after leaving the police raided her shop and found meth pills hidden in a cabinet used for customers’ shoes. The message was clear, close shop or do time for drugs. The amazing part was that she was so nonchalant about it. Easy come, easy go.

I’m not sure, but it might have been the dent to her livelihood that pushed her to agree to marriage with an older Englishmen. She said he was old, but knew how to please a lady. Good for him. She would be a lot to handle. I felt for the guy, especially after I met him at her birthday party.

Nat had balls. No not the katoey kind. Nat had big brass balls. She arranged a birthday party for herself at the Hard Rock, inviting all the guys she had recently been doing to meet her fiancé. I just sat there amazed at her gall. There were four of us: her fiancé, a young English teacher, a real estate investor <Mr. Holt, you have been getting around – Stick> and me. Thankfully at least one female friend showed up to give it an air of respectability. I’m not sure if she was also Nat’s lover. I don’t think her fiancé suspected a thing. We all played along for her benefit and acted like we were just old friends.

Her fiancé had to go back to England, so I saw Nat a few times before she finally got married and changed her phone number. Once was a visit to her apartment during which she chatted with the old boy long distance while I took my pre-sex shower. Our final date was a meal at a nice outdoor restaurant. She showed up in a long blond wig and tight white hot pants. Nat’s fashion statements shouted “Whore!”

I often wonder where she is today. I just can’t see her barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen. I know I made the right decision by not getting serious with her. There were certain aspects of her character which I didn’t like. She didn’t have that Isaan gaiety we all love. She had a central Bangkok superiority complex. She treated women like objects (I can’t believe I just wrote that, but it's true). She was a whore, but she was amazing!

Stickman's thoughts:

I wonder if the older English gent is reading?!