The Gogo Guru, Part 3
By the end of my trip, I was a goner as far as Koi was concerned. In five days, she had gone from a GFE to a real girlfriend. She was not even a bargirl, really, because she had never been with another customer. I fantasised about buying her out of the bar and setting her up in an apartment – then she would be all mine!
But 6,666 miles is a long flight, and the air in Blighty is bracing, and by the time I got back to dull old Donny (Doncaster), I had come to terms with harsh reality: she was 19 and I was past 50, we could barely speak a dozen words of each others’ language, we had nothing in common (I liked opera and she liked karaoke, to take just one example), I had a job that I had to turn up to on Monday, and – more to the point – I was married already (even if it was not working). So I didn’t need Don’s three day rule. Those harsh realities were far more compelling.
It was three months before I could get to Thailand again, and when I’d booked my flight, I called Don and suggested meeting him in a different temple of illusion, as I didn’t want to get involved with Koi again. “No need,” he replied. “She’s not there. Went off with a Dutch guy a while ago.” I should have felt relieved, but instead I felt a pang and wished I had been bolder. If the Dutch guy could sort it, I could have! It was all Don’s fault, muddling my mind with that Tau stuff!
These were the thoughts that troubled my mind during that long Eva Air flight to Thailand. But as the Flight Tracker showed Thailand getting nearer and nearer, I found myself relishing the prospect of meeting another Dollhouse doll. What about #1, Big Tits? She reminded me of that voluptuous Thai porn star, Natt Chanapa. Her melons were just as succulent, though she wasn’t so pretty and she lacked Natt’s trim waist, having something of a spare tyre instead. Or #33, Petite. She was what the forums call a “spinner” – so waif-like you could spin her round on top of you without doing yourself an injury – try doing that with a Doncaster lard lady! Or what about #44, Wild? If she was free – and she would be if Don had stuck to his three day rule (after stretching it to six). I rather liked the thought of – how did he describe her – “a one-girl orgy!”
I was in Dollhouse at 7 sharp, but Don wasn’t there. Well, he didn’t usually show up until 7:30 or 8. I’d have a Happy Hour Chang and study the form while I waited. There were several new girls, but most of my old favourites were gone. Where were those girls I’d fantasised about on the plane; #1, Big Tits and #33, Petite? #44, Wild, wasn’t there, either, but perhaps she was with Don. If she was, I’d have a few hard words for him. He’d pontificated about the three day rule but kept his girl long term. In the meantime, I’d lost mine. #1 and #33 weren’t there, and I didn’t fancy any of the new girls.
Then the set changed and a girl I had not seen before stepped onto the carousel. She was the most beautiful girl in the bar by a country mile. She had a rounded face with Chinese looks, and a beautiful pale complexion (and I’m not being racist here, I like all colours from Isaan Brown to Filipina Honey-Gold. It’s just that the pale skin complemented the Chinese looks). She had curves – but not too many – sort of halfway between Natt Chanapa and #33; you could spin her, but you could also bury your face in her ample bosom. Her eyes were black pearls with that dreamy look that comes from Buddhist meditation. Her lips had a cupid bow fullness that made you want to kiss them forever – I was in love!
I asked the waitress to bring her over, but I had to wait until the set ended. In the meantime, the waitress told me that her name was O and that she was the most popular girl in the bar – which didn’t surprise me.
I soon found out that popular girls don’t need to make much effort. She sat there, she smiled, she responded to my questions in quite good English, but that was all. She made no body contact and did not respond when I put my arm round her. There was none of that chemistry that Don had talked about – but so what? I had decided that he was a fraud. He pretended he knew it all, but didn’t even stick to his own rules. After all, we’re not here to find long term lovers – that road, like the Tau – leads nowhither. We’re here to get our rocks off – a sort of masturbation plus with a real girl instead of an MP4 – so did it matter what her feelings were? I thought of that guy in ExploitedTeensAsia. His girls are as cute as they come (cum?), but look bored as hell, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. Maybe he’d make a better guru!
O had finished her lady drink and the set was about to change again, so I took a deep breath and said the magic word, “Barfine”. I was still a relative newbie, but I knew about short time and long time and preferred the latter.
“Only do short time,” she said in a take-it-or-leave-it tone. “2,000 baht.”
I knew enough to know that 2,000 baht was the long time rate, but hey, she was the best girl in the bar! She was in the same class as Natt Chanapa and Irene Fah and she could be mine for the price of a meal for two at a good restaurant. What was it that Blake said? I couldn’t remember, but I remembered that Don said it meant, “Go for it!”
I did, and in no time at all, found myself in the Honey Bee short time hotel just round the corner in Soi 23. It was plain from the outset that this was a well-rehearsed routine for O. She went in the shower, bolting the door behind her, then came out with a white towel wrapped around her and sat on the bed, watching TV while I took my shower.
I was already having reservations. There she was, in my bed, naked except for a towel and I wasn’t feeling horny. Why not? What was wrong? Never mind, I thought, as soon as I get that towel off, things will be different.
But they weren’t. I slipped into bed beside her and gently pulled her towel away – wow! Female perfection! Full breasts, perfectly shaped; firm, yet soft to the touch, a sleek stomach set off by a jade belly-button ornament (the only thing she was wearing). Then I pulled the towel down and admired her perfectly trimmed and groomed triangle – and yet, my chemistry wasn’t bubbling. What was happening! I’d got more excited over fuzzy 144p porn vids, and here she was HD, 3D and – REAL!
Meanwhile she continued to gaze at the TV. She let me stroke her wherever I liked, but made no response. I thought that, if I upped the ante, she might get into the groove, so I leaned forward to suckle her breast. She pushed me away gently, saying, “Hua nom sore.” So I stroked her muff instead. She tolerated that, but when I tried to slip a finger into her love tunnel, she pushed my hand away and said, “I no like finger in pussy.” Well, that was it! John Thomas had no chance now – he should have been up for the c*nt, but instead, he was out for the count!
She lay back with her legs open as if to say, “Get on with it,” but she knew I was done for. She was doing it to make sure she could claim her fee on the basis that she had offered it up even if I hadn’t got it up. But she needn’t have bothered. I was past arguing. I felt like a wimp, a wuss – a weakling, and no man. Here I was with one of the most beautiful girls on the planet, naked, ready and waiting, and I couldn’t do anything about it!
I couldn’t bear it any longer. I just wanted to get her out of there and drown my sorrows in Singha. So I pushed her out of bed, pushed 2,000 baht into her hand and pushed her out of the door – but she had not finished with me yet. “Taxi tip?” she said. Taxi tip! To walk a 100 yards back to Dollhouse for her next victim! That was too much!
I shut the door on her and the self-flagellation began – what had I done wrong? I never had a moment’s problem with Koi (or with those MP4s, even when they kept buffering). Then I remembered that axiom: “Never doubt your guru”. I had doubted mine, gone against his advice, and this was the result! He had been right all along. I needed to see him and confess and maybe he could put me on the right track again – the right track being my Tau. I reached for my phone and texted him: “Need to talk. Can we meet at 10 in Baccara?”
He was there before me, sitting at the stage bar, looking alternately up at the glass ceiling and down at the bar-top mirror. “Hi, Byron,” he said when he saw me. “I wish you’d said Long Gun. This place gives me a stiff – neck!”
I was too upset to appreciate his play on words, or to look up and appreciate all those unpantied pussies parading on the glass ceiling. I ordered a House Sangsom and launched into my sorry tale without preamble. When I had finished, he looked at me with his Buddhist-calm eyes, seeming to see deep into my soul, and said one word: “Chemistry.”
“But lots of other guys…”
“Yeah, those horny twenty-somethings who still have wet dreams and could shag a sheep…” He smiled to himself as a thought occurred to him and added, “…or a coffee table.”
“You know, that Pop Art one by Allen Jones with a naked woman supporting a glass table on her back.”
I nodded. I had seen something like it.
“But for most of us, we need to get something back. What you got back was worse than nothing, It was negative – like saying, ‘Chan suay, tae khun ben…’ No, I can’t do it in Thai… ‘I’m gorgeous, but you are the most unexciting, unappealing loser on the planet.’”
I didn’t like that description of how O saw me, but it cheered me up nonetheless. Enough to look up to heaven and see the blouses come off. The girls on the glass ceiling dance in schoolgirl uniform; skirt and white blouse, and every now and then they take their blouses off. It’s quite a sight – white trainers, long legs, no panties and underboob in deep perspective.
Don followed my glance – briefly – he’d seen it all before. “So look for the chemistry next time…” he continued. He reflected for a moment, then added, “Of course there’s always Viagra.”
“But I thought…”
“…that the Big “V” is a cure for impotence for old men. Maybe, but you’d be surprised how many mongers use it as an insurance policy.”
“Do you use it?” I was reluctant to ask such a personal question, but I had to know.
Don just laughed. “I have used it, yes – though I preferred Cialis. The trouble with Viagra is that you need to pop it at the right time – about an hour before you jump on her – but Cialis can last for days, so you can be more spontaneous. I know better now though. My maxim is: ‘Trust your body’. If it’s OK to have sex, it will stand to attention, it it’s not, it won’t – and why would you want to have sex with somebody who’s not into it?”
“So bargirls sometimes enjoy sex?”
“Yes, though let’s be realistic, most of the time it’s just work – but there can still be chemistry. Take Sau, for example…”
“I was going to ask you about her…” I said, conscious of the fact that I’d been selfishly obsessed with my own problems for the last half hour.
“She liked sex and she liked me. OK, maybe not as much as her tuk tuk driver boyfriend, but more than the typical old, fat, smelly farang – and when I offered to take her to Ko Samui – well – ‘nymphomanic’ is the word!”
I was jealous.
“Don’t be,” he said, seeing the green in my eyes. “Because that has its problems too. Blake had it right when he wrote: ‘Enough! Or too much!’ Sau was too much. After six days with her, I wanted nothing more than to go back to solitary meditation in Wat Chai Mongkhon. I knew I had to get rid of her, but I had to do it in a way that wouldn’t hurt her, or it would harm my karma – karma’s an important concept, like the Tau. It’s all so much more meaningful than sin and salvation. Anyway, I got lucky. I had to go to Chiang Mai on business, and when I got back, I heard that she’d gone off with an Australian guy. Can you believe it? She cheated on me – me, who was being so careful not to hurt her feelings! Well, she’ll suffer for it – in her next life, I mean. She’ll have bad karma and be reborn as a cockroach!”
He shook his head as he replayed the events in his mind, then added, “I guess her Australian will too. The fool was blown away by the one-girl sex orgy thing, but he’s probably bored as hell with her by now. Hope he didn’t marry her! If he did, that would be his karma – your bad deeds can come back to you in this life as well, you know.”
Meanwhile, up above, on the glass ceiling, the set was changing. Don glanced up – and then did a double take, looking again with an interest he’d not shown before. I followed his glance, and saw a girl looking down at him, her long black locks forming a kind of tent around her head, her full breasts, swaying subtly as she danced, framing her face – a bit like Michaelangelo’s Sybil on the Sistine Chapel Ceiling (but with fewer clothes).
“Oh my Buddha!” he gasped. “She’s the one; she’s my Tau for tonight. I’ve got an intuition that we’re going to have the full works: chemistry, connection and Mindful sex.”
But he wasn’t listening; he was signalling her to join him. She mouthed a reply, and he mouthed something back – it looked as though they already had connection – but what was this Mindful sex he mentioned? “What is it? How do you do it? I’m dying to know!”
He gave me one of his Buddhist looks, and I knew I had his attention at last. “You know what Mindfulness is?”
“I’ve heard of it.”
“I’m not talking about all that fashionable wellness mumbo jumbo. I’m talking about the Buddhist version which means being intensely aware of what you’re sensing and feeling in the moment. Now, if you apply that to sex…”
“Sawat dee, ka.”
Longhair (#131) had arrived, still pantiless probably, and immediately they struck up a conversation in Thai, putting paid to my lesson in Mindful sex and leaving me feeling out of it. But how can you be out of it when you’re surrounded by thirty or so pantiless pretties, all of whom want to get to know you better (for the price of a lady drink) or much better (for the price of a barfine).
“I think I’ll go for #27,” I said, interrupting Don briefly to seek his approval (like the under-confident newbie that I was).
Without looking at the stage, he said, “Don’t. Baccara girls think they’re the best in the Soi – and they are, so you’ll probably end up with another O.”
“Oh,” I said, somewhat put out. There he was again. One rule for him and another for the likes of me.
“I’d try Midnite if I were you. The girls are homelier there and not so up themselves – and don’t forget the chemistry!”
The way he said it was his way of saying goodnight for the night, as he was obviously going to barfine #131. I debated for a moment whether I should call #27 just to prove him wrong, but my experience with O was still too raw. I daren’t risk it, and anyway, I had found out what can happen when you doubt your guru. As for ‘Mindful sex’, that would have to wait until next time.
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