In Praise of the GFE (Girl Friend Experience)
I mentioned in my last submission about the need for companionship and physical affection. The former colleague who introduced me to the natural delights, temples, culture and an active social life, was also aware that I had left a snow covered country and a failed marriage behind to relocate here.
He was kind enough in his own subtle way, to introduce me to the local P4P scene. I had limited experience of this in several other countries around the world, but the GFE which prevails here was a very pleasant surprise. I had not experienced the delights of Stickman submissions at this point, but I had read Private Dancer.
After giving me the benefit of his list of dos and don'ts, I was on my guard but open to a new experience at the same time. After dipping my toes in the water, I quickly became fully immersed in the joys of the GFE. For the first 5 or 6 weeks I was like a kid in a sweet shop looking for a sugar rush. In that time I tested a variety of confections and always came away with a smile on my face. There must be many readers out there of similar disposition to myself, who can smile and recall adventures along the same lines.
Two girls stand out in my memory of those heady days. As luck would have it they were known as A and B. A was my first and by some stroke of luck, or genius on the part of my mentor, I struck gold. We played the usual bar games and fooled around until it became clear that we were both of a mind to conduct some business. By this point I was at the happy giddy state of mild inebriation. We agreed to go back to my bungalow, but that in itself presented two problems. First was how to get there. My friend had gone home and left me to fend for myself. “No plomplem, I have motosai” beamed the lovely A. The second problem was an indication of my state of excitement mingled with alcohol. I could not remember exactly where I was staying.
In my defence I was moving from bungalow to hotel quite frequently as I searched for long term rentals.
With the patience of a saint, and considerable skill at controlling a motorbike with a wildly gesticulating passenger, A drove up and down until a vague memory nudged us in the direction of my digs. On arrival we collapsed giggling on the bed and the next thing I know, several hours have passed and I awake with a severely distended bladder. The lovely A is sound asleep next to me and seems fairly content.
After much relief I recover my senses sufficiently to check my wallet and watch. It is six am and I have not yet been relieved of much more than the cost of a good night out with the lads. I clamber back into bed and it is not long before A uses her sense of touch to confirm that she has not been sleeping with a curling iron in her panties.
The rest of our adventure is best left to the readers imagination. Suffice to say that A left with a healthy tip. I still see A from time to time and as this encounter was not our last meeting, she always gives me a conspiratorial wink when we are passing.
B was an out of the blue out of this world experience. I have long since become familiar with ladies forcing their attentions upon me as a prospective customer but it was always the middle of the road variety. Only once was I literally dragged off the street by the most stunning woman in the bar. She was a little bit the worse for wear at the time and maybe this explains why she picked on such an ordinary bloke. She was petite and had all those stunning Asian features that can melt a mans heart and empty his wallet. Add to this the tiniest black dress, the slightly paler complexion and a hint of western influence around those high cheekbones and I was smitten.
It was clear that B wanted to party. She loved to dance and she loved to watch herself in the full width mirror opposite the bar. (Experience has taught me that these kind of girls are often so narcissistic that they can be disappointing). What the hell, we were both having a great time and that’s what it’s all about at the end of the day. B managed to split her time evenly between her reflection and her client and I was intrigued and aroused enough to bar fine her.
In a neat role reversal of my experience with A, I was not only sober, but I had a rented bike and I remembered where I was staying. I beg to report dear reader, that entirely in line with expectations, B was not the hottest lady I have ever head in the sack. In my global experience she would not make the top ten but the liaison was entirely satisfactory and not without its merits in terms of diversity. Nuff said.
I met up with B on a contractual basis on at least half a dozen occasions and always enjoyed our meetings as they included as much in the way of interesting conversations as they did in bedroom gymnastics. It was an easy and comfortable relationship which we eventually moved on from amicably. After our commercial relations petered out we would often meet up for coffee and gossip before she started her shift. On more than one occasion we shared a breakfast meet as we had both clocked off from our respective endeavors at the same time. We kept in touch for a long time, until B moved to Phuket. The mamasan at her bar told me a few years later that B had met and married a French Airline pilot. Don’t you just love a happy ending.
A is still working in the same bar where we met nearly 4 years ago. I’m guessing she would have been in her mid to late 30s when we first met. I suspect few women think far enough ahead to plan for retirement, and even fewer realise they have a career span similar to a Premier league goalkeeper. There's always cashier, mamasan or massage jobs when the body starts to head south.
In case anyone finds this tale a little too sugary, I am happy to admit to a few less than happy adventures with working girls. In many unhappy readers tales we are regaled with the phrase. ‘If something seems too good to be true, it probably is”. In my defence I claim either a huge slice of luck, or a highly sophisticated radar. Since in all other aspects of my life, the opposite is true I am happy to claim this one as my specialist subject.
One thing I have noticed is that in all my early experiences, and with both of my two real life girlfriends, the ladies who have sought my company and the ones I have chosen have all been women in their 30s. There is something to be said for a measure of maturity. Apart from the likelihood of finding someone with a better standard of English, there is a better mastery of the subtle and not so subtle arts of pleasing a man.
I have in all my dealings always remained positive, learned from my experiences, and on the whole, found them most rewarding. My personal view of the P4P scene is that the ladies often get a bad press because the customer is either naive or has not done his homework. My final words of advice have always paid dividends in any kind of relationship with ladies from LOS. Always behave like a gentleman and always treat them like a lady.
Jack Nicholson
