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  • One night in Bangkok makes a hard man...harder

    First, a very belated happy new year to everyone who's reading this. I also missed Christmas wishes, but with travelling and a job change over the past month or so, it's been hard to keep up with blogging and having experiences to blog about. Anyway, without further ado, I present this little story, which happened just after the new year...    

    That song is in the back of my mind, but it isn't the focus. As I'm writing this I still feel the strength of her fingers on my back as she massaged me after we had sex. It wasn't too hard, but firm enough, which was good for me. We held each other close, face to face and on our sides, she gently rubbing me with one strong, manicured hand while holding me with the other.

    Ah...perhaps I should go back to the beginning of the night.

    It was warm in Bangkok that night, even though it was supposed to be the cool season. (Yes, although I've been very obscure about my location, it's time to reveal some things. But I will still be circumspect with some information, to protect both the guilty and the innocent...) The cool, dry winds blowing down from China had apparently ceased giving their favours just after Christmas. That didn't stop me and Bud from heading down to a hotel club notorious for its ladies of the night, even though I was there that night only because I was bored and thirsty (seriously).

    Interesting things were happening there, and I was actually enjoying the music of the 'live' band. About half an hour in and nearly a beer later, I saw an interesting specimen - oops, I mean - woman. Dark haired, dark-eyed, a light-ish dusky complexion, classic and ancient Aryan-looking features (things that would make the Nazis look like the inbreeds and pariahs that they really were; master race, indeed! Phah! Ahem, sorry...moving along). In fact she looked like she was from the cradle of civilisation. I nudged Bud..."So some of the Uzbeks are indeed here."

    He took a long look at her, answering, "Yup, guess you were right." Or rather, my Russian MILF was. She had given me some general info on where the Russians and Uzbek girls hung out, which was not limited to one hotel. Then I saw another specimen walk in. Slightly taller than the first girl and with a fairer complexion but equally dark hair, she was more Slavic than the first. She went straight to the bar-top area overlooking the dance floor, and just stood there surveying the scene while I walked up next to her and tried to catch a closer glimpse of her face, trying not to be too obvious about it. That didn't take long, and shortly after, I told Bud that she wasn't looked a bit funny and wasn't my type.

    After a half-hearted conversations with a couple of Thai chicks, I realised that I wasn't actually interested in getting anyone there, and decided that  I was just about done with the place. Bud was ready to leave as well. And off we went to another hotel club, the one where most of the Russians-Uzbeks hang out. My MILF was there and we said hi to each other, then I walked around with Bud to check out the scene that night.

    It was a nice scene. There were a good number of good-looking freelancers, mostly Thai of course, but the small minority of other nationalities didn't look too bad either. Then the Central Asian-ish girl from the first bar walked right by. I went up next to her, flashed my most brilliant smile, and said, "Hi." She said hi right back; I said "How are you?" We made small talk and she was surprised that I guessed she was from Uzbekistan on the first try (yeah, like it was so difficult to figure out). Eventually she offered to go with me, and even suggested her hotel, but she was pushing my personal limit on her fee, so I politely declined. She seemed a bit put off and decided that I wasn't worth the bother to talk to, which was fine by me - plenty of other fish around, and I'm enough of an old hand with the 'scene' to take it in stride.

    I went to find Bud, who had earlier went on his own way, and we were having our beers and chatting when we saw a 'sexy librarian' walk in. Tall, fleshy but not fat, hair tied back with slightly horned-rimmed glasses, imagine our piqued interest as she made her way to the bar. I thought she was Korean, or at least looked like it. Bud just waited a few minutes before going right up to her. I was happily nursing my beer, even lost in my own world (I think my eyes had begun glazing over at this point), when Bud motioned me over with a raised arm. I happily obliged and was introduced to Sexy Librarian and her friend, a petite girl but with a bigger rack. We all slipped into easy conversation and it wasn't long before Bud was treating all of us to tequila shots, and Petite But Big-Racked Girl talked me into going onto the dance floor with her at some point.

    When it was time to go, we went outside. My Petite girl had a car - yup - and she was driving. After all those drinks, I found out she could really hold her liquor well, and we managed to get to a friend's bar in one piece! It was a false start and stop, as the Sexy Librarian didn't want to stay and we soon left. Petite But Big-Racked Girl dropped Bud and Sexy Librarian at his place, then drove me to mine to pick up an overnight bag. Sometime during the night we had spoken about spending the night together, and she'd also mentioned that she didn't do this for a living, and that her friend the Sexy Librarian ; I didn't know what to believe at that point, but I'm too jaded to care either way. We were two consenting adults who happened to want each other's company, and that was that. I didn't want to stay at my place because it was a total bachelor's slum at the period of time. She offered her apartment, which was fine by me. 

    It's hard to describe my thoughts and emotions. Happy, cautious, buzzed on alcohol...curiosity. A pleasant feeling as she soaped me down in her bathtub and told me she was doing this because she liked me; a feeling of warm anticipation as we both dried off and hopped to the bed, me putting on some music that I'd brought along; a sense of relief as we got down to it. It's hard to describe it as she got on top of me eventually, and I tried to pleasure her as much as I could, moving around in a circular motion even as she seemed, in her enthusiasm, determined to bring me to bursting point too quickly (I was holding myself back and succeeding). Then she asking me if I was coming, and if I wasn't, could she come first?

    "Ya...ya...sure," I said, almost breathless and not quite believing the situation. And then she came (or so she acted), which was followed in short order by yours truly. It was after this, when we were in post-coital bliss that she started massaging me. I found out more about her life and it was quite interesting, and she told me again that it was her first time in that club, just hanging out with her friend who had asked her to come along to see if she liked the 'scene' and maybe join her if she did.  

    In the morning, over breakfast. I asked her if she needed help with her fuel for her car (I'd asked her about fuel costs the night before). After a few seconds' coyness and hesitation, she said yes. I slipped her some money - what she told me she used for her car fuel every month (it was more than usual, and strangely enough also around the price for an overnighter with a freelancer from that club I met her. Coincidence, or...?).

    It didn't matter. I think I've become a hard man during the time that I've lived here, but that did not stop me from getting 'harder' with her. I was tired, but I was happy. I said goodbye to her, but not before exchanging phone numbers. Perhaps we'll see each other again, perhaps not. Such is my life.