Stickman Readers' Submissions September 14th, 2007

I Want Go Boom Boom You

She stood in the Nana car park. Just another body among the mob. I stood and watched her for fifteen minutes. Observing. Classifying. Deciding.

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I make my choice. Eye contact. A hesitant smile. First test passed. Not too obvious about her trade. Demure? Not too much I hope.

A nod in her direction. She teeters over in high, high heels.

“Hello hansum man. I want go boom boom you.”

Music to my ears.

We agree a price. Seems reasonable. She asks me where?

Playboy Hotel? I say.

She smiles. We walk to the lights and cross the road. Along the way, she gazes hungrily at the food stalls. Arab food. Why not?

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We sit. I order. She eats like there is no tomorrow.

Three dishes, four cokes, and a good belch later we leave.

Outside the Grace car park. She stops and groans. Reaches down and removes her shoes. Sighs in relief. We carry on, almost at our destination.

A group of Arabs loiter by the coffee shop. Pong of BO and cheap perfume. Their eyes slide across their faces as we pass. Their thoughts so obvious I hear them slavering.

Yes, I think. I’ve got one you’ll never have. Too good for you sand jockeys. I grin to myself. Sometimes, the best revenge is the quiet unknown one.

We struggle on. She’s never walked this far, she feigns. Come on dear! What do you take me for? You are an Esarn rice farmer’s daughter. You probably had to walk five kilos to school. The exercise will do you good. Firm up your
muscles. Perhaps you won’t be a starfish. Her ass is tight and firm.

Traffic rushes by. Four cars driven by farungs, one after the other. Heading for a night of dreams? Or heading home? No. They are going the wrong way for home. Do their wives know where they are going? Who cares? I’ve got my dream
for a while.

We stagger into the PB Hotel.

She stands unsure. I point her to an open door. I know this room. It’s got the chair. I smile in anticipation. The walls are mirrored. The lights controlled. The room is soundproof. You can scream and no one will hear you. I know.
I’ve been there before.

We walk in the room. The hotel jockey collects the room fee.

Short time, or long time, he asks.

Long time, I grin at him in Thai. Yaoooow, I mime. He laughs. Bring me a large beer. A coke for my girl.

He smiles and slides away, money in hand.

We sit on the bed, my girl and I. She looks at me, a shy smile. Is that a tremble I see in her body?

Where you come from? She tries.

I smile and say Bangkok. What does she care? What do I care? It’s a game. I play it better than her. She laughs and says, No. I smile, the ice broken.

Where do you come from? I ask, keeping my language simple. No intellectual discussion possible here. This is strictly practical English for the lowest standard.

I come from Udorn, Ubon, Roi-et. I forget. It doesn’t matter. Just more uncomfortable conversation before the main round.

The hotel jockey returns. I tip him well. He smiles and leaves. We won’t be disturbed.

I turn down the lights, enhancing the mood. She looks around. A hundred reflections shine back. Two multiplied to infinity. Above and around. We look at each other, speculating. Will she be good?

Time to get started. I pull out a bar of chocolate. Lebanese blond hash chocolate. She grabs a piece and nibbles in pleasure. Unknowing.

Just wait, sweetheart, when you feel the real pleasure.

I point to the bathroom. She gets the picture.

I swallow a couple of squares and sit back on the bed. Legs crossed in front of me. Watching a boring porn show with the sound off.

Sounds of splashing. Silence. More splashing. Then sounds of movement as she dries off and prepares.

Finally, the door opens. She appears wrapped in a towel. He hair is heaped on top of her head. Sexy. Alluring. Innocent?

She smiles.

I feel good, she says, and grins. I smile.

Wait here. I’ll be back. I give her shoulders a friendly squeeze. She watches me as I walk into the bathroom.

Then she follows me. I shed my clothes and jump under the water. She drops her towel. Then we’re under the water together. She splashes me. I splash back. Suddenly, we’re playing. She’s laughing, giggling. She’s
having fun. The chocolate has kicked in.

She washes me lovingly. The soap slides down my chest. She follows it, her hands massaging and soothing. I let her have her way. She lifts my legs. My feet are cleaned, each toe glistening. She moves up, washing, rubbing, scrubbing, laughing
as she goes. She oohs in mock appreciation. Anticipation lights her eyes.

Finally, I hand her the shower and she rinses me off.

We step out. She towels me off. My body dry, she giggles and points me to the bedroom. I smile at her. She smiles back. We stagger together and fall on the bed.

I whisper sweet words. She blushes. Giggles. Snuggles up to me and we lie there. Smiles wreath our faces. The chocolate, the room, the mirrors, the ambience. This is going to be a very good night. Yes, a very good one indeed.

Stickman's thoughts:


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