Part Six: A Walk On The Mild Side
Waking up on a Monday morning is usually a grizzly affair, “They call it Stormy Monday but Tuesday’s just the same.” But waking up in Bangkok on a Monday is pretty good especially when you are on holiday. There was only one maggot in the meat of my day and that was another visit to the hospital. Fuck it. Bring it on! This latter phrase must be said pugnaciously, with chin cocked, whilst standing with legs akimbo, arms outstretched as if holding a very large trout whilst simultaneously tickling the underside of said trout with twitching fingers. ‘Bring it on’ I growled, left my room repeatedly muttering my mantra to myself, passed the staring receptionists and hit the street.
Having walked down Soi 4 I crossed Sukhumvit and then I immediately crossed Soi 3 to walk on the left side for a change. The first large building is a relatively new mall that has a wine shop, which I haven’t checked out. The mall is mainly dedicated to mobile phones and related electric goods: very useful and full of helpful young ladies willing to help a doddering old man like me with all this new fangled technology. Another place of note is an Indian restaurant, The Akbar, which does a passably good imitation of a British Indian take away curry but closes too early for my taste and has an off putting portrait of the rheumy eyed Yasir Ararfat on the wall. What next? A portrait of OSBL? There is a far superior Indian near the corner of Soi 5 and Sukhumvit, one of many great Indian restaurants in Bangkok. Then, further on down soi three, there is the Bamboo bar which could be great but isn’t. The best thing about it is its romantically exotic name. I have called by there countless times on my way back from the hospital but found it to be a fun free zone. Maybe it livens up at night. I don’t know. I hope so. Maybe judging such a place by its day time vibe isn’t fair. Continuing down Soi three there is an Arab perfume shop, I have dawdled at looking for Ood: (The exotic perfume not the bar girl.) Nearby there is a shopping precinct of some sort, with an Arab restaurant that’s sells lamb shanks, with photos to prove it and further along there is an outdoor Thai restaurant with chairs and tables on the pavement. It is usually busy with office workers eating Thai style, with concentrated gusto. Turning left into the hospital grounds I enter the main building on the left the same as four days ago.
I do my best to relax and stay calm and collected but it seems such a dreadful waste of time waiting around. Eventually I see a new doctor, a woman pain control specialist who chides me for being in pain and seems irritated at my reluctance to have another MRI and subject myself to another hour of intense expensive discomfort. I mentally dub her Rosa Kleb, a hatchet faced, James Bond baddy: a woman with spikes in her toe caps. She sends me for more X rays and other tests and so I go through the routine of changing into a green cotton gown, with fastenings specially designed for people with arms attached to their spine. Later, out of skivvies and back in civvies, waiting for the results, I look down to the floor below where a beautiful girl is broadcasting some kind of TV show. I hasten down to the 5th floor which is far more rewarding than the waiting area I have just left which is full bad tempered, sick, bushy bearded men from the Gulf States accompanied by sinister masked beings who might be women.
Having ogled the girl doing the TV show broadcast and presentation, I casually bent down to fasten my non existent shoe laces and glance up her skirt. I am mortified when she glances in my direction and notices me looking up her skirt. She made me feel like a pervert!
I see, on this floor, there is a book shop, a coffee shop, and a business centre where I hire a computer and internet connection. I need to confirm and cancel some appointments with a BDSM mistresses and an escort agency. This internet facility is really useful but the new Mistress, who I have never met before is irritated about me cancelling our appointment but she relents and arranges to send Mistress A round to my hotel to pick me up and take me to the ‘dungeon’. Also due to hospital appointments, I cancelled, with good notice, an appointment with BKK141.com an Escort agency which I have used twice which has an interesting web site with photographs of the girls, explains the services they offer and their respective prices. However, with the price around 5 thousand baht and the current exchange rate so low due to the high baht the escort agencies are less tenable. But still sitting in the Sandpit checking out such websites is great. I might try a new escort agency called Five Star Escort where the girls look top quality and offer a wide range of excellent services including rimming, role play, uniform play, prostrate massage and more.
The very attractive girls ranging from 19 to 23 claim to be students with good English language skills. Some offer BDSM play and others are ‘VIP models’, at twenty thousand a go! Many offer anal for an extra 2 thousand. This compares to the 141 girls who are more girl next doorish and offer anal for an extra 1000 baht. Of the two girls I had from 141 one was a bit disappointing. I don’t think she new what services she was supposed to be offering e.g. OWO and she did not seem enthusiastic at the prospect of a longer session. The other girl was better and did seem to know what was expected of her, including French kissing, mutual oral, CIM etc but she made a lot of noise eating Som tam as I drifted off to sleep so I asked her to leave. I made a half hearted attempt to complain to the agency but they explained they could do nothing as the girls were independent but they said they would take a note. Oh well fair enough it was my timing that was wrong I think.
Shortly after I had finished my online business I was called back to ‘Dr Rosa Kleb Pain’ who informed me that I did not have cancer and did not have pathological bone degeneration. Oh Joy! The bad news was that they were not sure of the cause of my distress. She peered at my X ray, frowned and asked me if I had had a bad car crash recently. Oh for fuck’s sake! I left in a daze of pain, minus 3730 baht but with a new appointment. The fees were as follows: X Ray 600 baht, X Ray radiologist’s fee 280 baht, Doctor’s fee 2.200 baht, facility 150 baht, medical equipment 500 baht: A total of 3730 baht.
I was disgruntled by the attitude of this last doctor but a bit cheered up when I pick up 9000 baht insurance repayment from the hospital cashier on the first floor. I flew out of the hospital as fast as my disability would allow and decided to spend it on something useful: women and booze, so headed off to Soi 33 for a change. Soi 33 is the boundary of ‘the manor’ to me.
I could have caught the sky train but was impatient so got on the back of a motor bike taxi. Riding the steel cobra is a lot less nerve racking these days.
First point of call was Coyote’s a Mexican food joint which does margaritas by the jug and the glass. I had a happy hour jug. I think the Mexican food here is very good as are their margaritas. The prices seem reasonable. I had a mixture of soft tortillas and nachos I think, some stuffed with crab meat. I swigged down some pain killers and a half a Cialis with some margaritas. After the meal to offset the bloated drunk feeling I sniffed some nasal enhancements. The girls with their hip hugging blue jeans and shorty blue shirts which reveal twinkling navels look adorable and gave excellent service.
Soi 33 is very interesting but could be so much better. I don’t know why, but many of the bars here are named after famous artists such as Monet, Degas, Mondrian, Dali, Goya, Vincent Van Gogh, and Renoir etc. Something to do with The Art of Drinking? It is unfortunate that these bars and ‘clubs’ manage to be both dowdy but expensive and somehow lacking in energy. I wonder why the bars are not thematically based with all the girls dressed in the style of Moulin Rouge at one place, wild surrealist costumes at another etc. These bars often seem to have anniversary and ‘birthday’ parties. The one anniversary party I did go to at the Renoir or the Monet, first on the right I think, up some steps with a barbeque range on the right, was very good despite the Country and Western music and the frank Sinatra stuff. It was a good drunken fun party night with friendly girls dancing and making out. The Dali bar has sexy fashion shows on Fridays I believe but the last time I went there the greeter girls were both ugly and rude to me. To paraphrase Oscar Wilde: ‘the latter is forgivable the former unforgivable.’
Soi 33 also has a BDSM club, Demonia, which for true aficionados is a bit weak. The Castle in Pattaya is far superior. It also has a host of other bars and ‘clubs’ including a Coyote club, Mojo, which I have heard good things about. On the corner of Sukhumvit there is the large London Brewer Pub where you can meet farang gays not yet out of the closet, big white mamties, and cheapsters out for bargain drinking.
There is another place on a Soi 33 sub soi, either called The Office or Wall Street which though I do not like very much would give it another try because I have a very fond memory of this place due to some music I heard there. One night I was nudged out of my alcohol reveries by a track I had not heard for years and years for so long, from another time, another place, another country, another me, another life. I was shocked by the power of the emotions it raised in me. It was by a New Zealand band called Hunters & Collectors. A track called Throw Your Arms Around Me.
I will come for you at night time
I will raise you from your sleep
I will kiss you in four places
As I go running along your street
I will squeeze the life out of you
You will make me laugh and make me cry
And we will never forget it
You will make me call your name
And I’ll shout it to the blue summer sky
And we may never meet again
So shed your skin and let’s get started.
Well that was then and this is now and I was on Soi 33 today for the multiplicity of Massage parlours, many confusingly called teen massage or teen dream or dream teen or dream teen 2 and other bewildering permutations of the words team, dream and massage. To further complicate matters the same places seem to have sister establishments on Soi 24 and other locations. I got so confused a couple of years ago I became exasperated. I checked them all out on the internet, typed out a list of names and address and ended up visiting nearly two dozen Massage Parlours, (list to follow) in steady erotic organisational determination walking all the way from Soi 33 to Soi 8. Aspergers or Obsessive Compulsive Disorder aided my mission that day. My usual routine is to introduce my self to the mama san, practice some Thai, check the girl photo album, check the girls, tell them how pretty they are and write down the names of potential girls on the establishments’ business cards for later use. I have over fifty useful cards from MPs resulting from such exploratory walkabouts.
Now I was on another massage parlour mission following up on the research fruits of my earlier peregrinations referred to above. Today was to be a more lasting visit. The spicy Mexican food had given me an appetite for some spicy sex. I fancied some anal sex with two girls. I went to Love Teen Massage, about hundred and fifty yards down Soi 33 on the left. I introduced myself to the Mamasan, looked through the book picture and ordered a couple of girls. I must sing my highest praises for the skills of the talented photographers who work for these massage parlours. They make David Bailey and Lord Snowdon look like blind cunts. The girls bore little resemblance to the photographs but they were pretty enough and both Bo and Tee voiced the opinion that I was a sexy handsome man. Mainly due to their obvious perspicacity I took them downstairs to the large VIP room. I had checked with the mamasan that one provided a charming anal service. ‘Duut’ in Thai I believe. I often think, at massage parlours, it is a good idea to check out the rooms and check out the VIP rooms to establish my presence and establish I am a serious punter. At such places that do balls massage it is worth checking who teaches the girls and to ask if she is available. S– used to be the teacher at Teen Dream I think. This is not necessarily true for anal sex teachers as the instructors might have an anal passage wider than the Khyber Pass. I noticed that S___g from Tulip looks a bit knackered these days. I presume it is her that has passed on her anal skills, and RGFE rimming talent, picked up at the old Baron’s Massage, to the Tulip girls.
My teen dream team repeatedly reminded me how handsome I was and how sexy I was. I was again reminded of the accuracy of both their insight and their eyesight as they took care of me in a large elevated bath. They bathed me and they bathed themselves but there was no lesbian action. I forgot to ask them until I had left the place. One girl was skilled and sat on my cock with my cock up her arse whilst the other girl sat on my face. This was the first time I had had full sex since yesterday afternoon with ‘jungle frenzy girl’ so I came easily and quickly the first time. She had a tight asshole which gripped my cock in all the right places.
We chatted about this and that whilst I fingered their pussys till we were all ready to go again or at least I was. The girl I had just buggered wanted to watch me fuck her friend and I was happy to oblige with this request but I don’t find it easy to come on top. After changing condoms the first girl fucked me from on top whilst the other girl wanked her self, whether for her entertainment or mine I was not sure, but it worked for me. I was there about two hours and left a very clean boy. The massage prices are about 500 baht to 1200 baht for a massage, oil, tea, balls, powder, lotion etc. The most expensive price includes the VIP room and an extra girl. I tipped them 1500 baht each. Their giggles and laughter and patently joyous insincerity had really cheered me up.
I was out on Soi 33 musing on life, as one does, whilst looking at the food in a restaurant called Red Duck or some such name. It sells cheap Thai and Chinese food, Japanese Miso soup, roast duck, roast pork, noodles and the like. It has Formica tables and fast service. I often eat at the place after a lunchtime session at Akane which is also on Soi 33. I felt buoyed and optimistic because although I was disappointed with the whole hospital episode and still in some discomfort there was good news regarding the absence of serious illness and to fashionably quote Nietzsche: “What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger.”
I decided to go for a beer to celebrate my new found optimism. Some time ago after a session at Akane massage I was walking down Soi 33 wondering what to do with my self when I saw a pretty figure in a short skirt with an old geezer. I ‘followed that arse’ from a distance and was intrigued when the couple took a right and walked down a small sub soi that appeared to go now where. It didn’t. It led to a hole in a chain link fence, then across a car park cum derelict lot and then, and then, I was suddenly in Japan! I was agog. I gaped at Japanese comics, the Japanese writing on the signs, the Japanese food, Japanese noodles, Japanese rice, Japanese beauty salons, Japanese shops, and Japanese people. I fully expected to see a Japanese Kogal with impossibly short skirt and thick white ruffled socks, a Japanese schoolgirl squatting on her heels revealing her panties, a Japanese office lady in distress with ripped tights, a Japanese air hostess, a Japanese nurse, a Japanese wife all in lurid semi sadistic voyeuristic poses, in bondage and on the receiving end of perverted Japanese men’s’ attentions. I snapped out of it and wandered on down the street of little Tokyo and came to what appeared to be a British pub. I don’t usually go to such places but entered anyway.
It was cool, calm and empty. I approached the heavy oak bar with brass fittings and to my surprise saw a beer for sale called Old Speckled Hen. I know this kind of English real ale well but have ceased to drink it except on rare occasions. This was one of them. To my surprise it was absolutely delicious: A clean fresh fruity taste that took me back to my youth. I was surprised because this type of real ale does not usually travel well and needs a good cellar man. I asked the Thai bar maid to fetch the ‘big boss man’ as I was intrigued. The young governor came down and I introduced my self and expressed my admiration for the Old Speckled Hen. I also expressed my surprise at the excellent quality. I asked him how he did it: getting it to taste so good after a six thousand mile journey. I bought him a drink: Jack black and coke and this is what he told me. I laughed out loud at his story. He told me quite earnestly that every few months a representative from the brewery, Moreland’s, I think comes to Bangkok with about 12 to 18 kegs of beer. The rep then cleans out the pipes, installs the kegs and checks the beer for taste.
“Yes” the young landlord added thoughtfully: “He’s very dedicated: checks the beer every day for three or four weeks, every lunchtime and evening. He stays here at the pub you know then he goes back to England to get some more.” I twitched a bit and replied: “Then he comes back again and stays for another four weeks and checks it every day, right?”
“Yeah that’s right.”
I fucking laughed out loud. What a fucking dream job. Not difficult to be a professional salaried drinker in Bangkok. Not difficult to be dedicated. For fucks sake!
This time, however, I was disappointed to see the Old Speckled Hen had gone and been replaced with Kilkenny an ersatz Guinness. I did not bother to order a drink nor will I drink there again. I mean why replace genuine English real ale with black shite fizz?
I made my way gradually back to Soi cowboy, took drinks at the two twins bars on Soi 23. Only stay for one drink at both places: Pretty grim, both of them. Then on to the Ship: a nice English style pub. Then round the corner on to Soi cowboy. Visit Bacara but feel a bit ignored then on to Shebas briefly, a good display of girls then to Aftersckool where I buy a few drinks for girls who I wank a bit through their pants and they wank me a bit but the prettiest girl I wanted to wank me properly had her eye on a Japanese guy so I leave. I leave feeling horny but relaxed. Out on the street under the harsh neon and through the clamorous din I hear some Luk Thung or Mor Lam. It’s coming out of a bright noisy chromy place maybe called Spice girls. I entered this place where I had not been before and settled down to watch the show. Unfortunately either I had walked into the wrong place or the Luk Thung had finished and the music had reverted to indifferent rock music but it was OK. I noticed a pretty service girl in a modest skirt. I ordered a drink from her and slipped my hand up her skirt and felt the warm soft cotton forming a teasing barrier, between my fingers and her lips. She slapped my hand and screamed indignantly. I buy her a drink and we get chatting. I spend a couple of hours there pulling her skirt up, rubbing her and generally misbehaving. She introduced me to her younger sister and I fooled around with her as well. I think in this instance it was a true blood sister, a ‘nong sao’ not a ‘peuen.’ I offered to bed them both and I was calculating the chance of some lesbian incest action with me as participant observer but ‘pee sao’ insisted her younger sister was waiting for a customer. For about two hours I horned my self up and eventually barfined her. I was feeling really horny. I’m not big into short time rooms and don’t know many so we went back to my hotel.
I bathed and she got undressed down to her underwear. Like a lot of service girls she did not have such a beautiful body as her dancer colleagues but she was fit enough. She was about 22 years old, and was slim medium build. She seemed a bit shy and reluctant to start but I don’t mind this sense of anticipation wondering what will happen next. I put my hand gently on the back of her neck which must be a universally understood gesture indicating time to see a head bowed in erotic obeisance. She seemed to panic a bit and I thought she was having second thoughts. It occurred to me she was not that experienced at least not in a professional sense. I suggested kindly she could go and I would give her 50 baht taxi fare to return back to the bar. That really made her panic! She set about giving me a delightful blowjob, tentative at first, thoughtful even and then gradually more rhythmical. I reached over and pulled her white cotton knickers to one side and looked at her pussy, light textured hair, lightly trimmed. It broke the rhythm of the blow job a bit but I took the opportunity to pull my cock out of her mouth, pull the foreskin forward, and replace the flesh sheathed tip in her mouth pushing in and out like I was fucking her. With the extra girth she had to stretch her mouth more. I briefly removed my hand from her neck to loosen her bra and then the natural rhythm of our movement caused it slip down gradually. My plan was to ejaculate as her bra finally fell off revealing her breasts fully. I pumped her mouth more strongly and gently gripped her neck as her bra gradually slipped down. Her breasts finally tumbled free and I shot a large accumulation, with great force, of a mixture of gooey man juice and other lubricacious fluids, all of which she held in. Her mouth was plugged by my cock. I carried on pumping softly till she swallowed some and the rest dribbled down her chin. My cock slipped out of her mouth and as she was retching a bit, I congratulated her on being a good girl. I was pleased with the timing of the orgasm and it occurred to me a more experienced bar girl would have pulled away when the lubricant pre come juices started to flow. (Don’t you just hate that?)
I wanked my self hard again as she got dressed and we chatted about this and that. I paid her either 1000 baht or 1500 baht. She complained a bit but I pointed out we had not had a boom boom and the bar fine was expensive, 600 or 800 baht I think and that I had bought her lots of lady drinks. I gave her 50 baht to save her breaking into her main money and asked about hers sister’s skills. She cheered up a bit when I promised to see her sister again. I think she cheered up or perhaps she was just relieved.
I considered going out again for a late night stroll but those Margaritas drank in the late afternoon were taking their toll on me. I knew tomorrow was going to be a great day not least because I did not have to visit the hospital and I had a few non onerous non specific chores to do which would be fun. I needed to go to a travel agent. I wanted to see Miss Au again. I thought about planning a nice meal somewhere posh, maybe Mes Amis, the French Restaurant upstairs at the Paragon: a fantastic place to ogle Uni girls but not a good place have to have a wank under the table: Nearly got caught last time…..
I got out a business card for a massage parlour for a wake up massage. Had a quick bath, consumed my chemical cosh, settled myself down into bed and for some reason that Hunters and Collectors song came to mind but not in a sad way but as a glorious soaring anthem.
And we may never meet again.
So shed your skin and let’s get started.
To be continued