Ok

By continuing your visit to this site, you accept the use of cookies. These ensure the smooth running of our services. Learn more.

  • The Mandarin honey

    (This is a second post from where my post of snippets, "Scattered collages" left off. Better late than never! See the first post arising from "collages" here.) 

     

    The ladies behind the bar were more than a bit surprised, I could tell. It was the first time they'd ever seen me cavorting openly with a girl, and someone they'd never seen before. Certainly not someone who ever comes into their bar. 

    She was all touchy-feely, but not in an ostentatious way. She was also talking to my good friend Buddy, so it was more like a intimate gathering of friends; and we were all tipsy and maybe even a bit drunk, so that added to the fun. Plus, we were talking in Mandarin - it was good to have that over my deficient Thai and her halting English.

    We had already made our 'introductions' in the usual club (henceforth called 'the club') where massive number of freelancers hang out...no surprise there. It also turned out that Buddy had bought this Mandarin-speaking chick and a couple of her friends dinner sometime before, and had gone home with one of her friends (after coming to, ah, a negotiated understanding, of course).   

    She worked in a travel agent, and like many of the women in the club, were freelancing to supplement their income.   

    I wasn't looking at picking up anyone that night, but what struck me about Ms Mandarin-speaker was that she wasn't dressed like most of the freelancers in the club. 

    It must be said - many prostitutes who freelance in clubs and bars here don't dress like 'prostitutes'  (whatever the convention is in each country)...most dress like 'average' women on a night out with their partners or friends. In Bangkok (yes, where I'm at) this means they're usually in tight tops and jeans, or sometimes skirts or knee-length pants, and heels. At least this was (and is) the case in the club.   

    My Mandarin honey was in an almost-full length flared skirt; her blouse was sexy but not too revealing. She stood out, particularly in the bar we went to after the club closed.

    The bar is good for its live music and other entertainment, as well as having pool tables. Some of the bar  staff know me; virtually all of them and the owners know Buddy. It's a nice regular and after-hours place. It's also another place where heaps of freelancers hang out. 

    Anyway, by this time I could feel myself getting more drunk, and it was definitely time to go...

    ***** 

    In my apartment. 

    When she stripped off her skirt, she was a very appealing picture with her black spaghetti straps and bikini panties. I stepped up to put my arms around her waist, going lower down to her hips. As I rested my hands there she nudged me gently and told me that she had to take a shower first. I smiled like an eager schoolboy and said, "Yes, okay, you first...then me."

    I couldn't shower fast enough after she came out, even though I think I maintained my cool pretty well. The truth was I was eager to see her naked and to make love  to her (okay, shag her). 

    I couldn't remember the small talk we made, the kind that precedes such sexual encounters. I can only say that speaking a common language helped, and my experience was all the better for it. She had long wavy hair which was less common with Thai women, but it wasn't just that I remember. I remember her slow and easy blowjob, the way she held my arms as she kissed me from my face down to my chest and nipples and torso, before moving one hand to my crotch and holding me there. And then going down gently.

    Her skin the colour and sensation of soft, very light brown honey...if one could imagine it; and I did.

    A while later, I held her in my arms and we shuddered as I came into her. After, we laid on the bed for a time; then she said she had to go. I let her dress and she almost seemed to forget to collect her fee. I handed it to her as I walked her to the door. We exchanged phone numbers.  

    It was a nice night, better than I hoped. It wasn't dawn yet. We had a moment to kiss goodbye, and I finally showed her out.

    (I would see her one more time, but not a third time. She talked about being transferred to the south of Thailand to work. In any case, we've lost touch...and probably the desire to see one another again) 

  • Relationship. Crossroads.

    CB104097.jpgThe bed separates us when we come apart. We lie next to one another, yet the distance is palpable.

    We are within reach, but there is a dividing line; the bed is actually two large single beds, placed side by side, no gap in between.

    But it's not the divider that separates us. We had just made love - no - more like, had sex.

    We can touch each other, but we don't. Instead, we turn away from one another. I go to the bathroom, and she bustles around some packing.

    We are on holiday. But it doesn't seem to mean much.

    It was the last week of her visit, and I wasn't sad she was leaving.

    ******************


    I don't know why. But I seem to have a problem with relationships.

    I don't mean relationships in a general, overall sense. I'm alright with that. It's only relationships where our core personalities, or characters are so different, that I have issues with.

    Seems obvious right? But it's a harder thing to deal with in real life than simply writing it down or blogging about it, as cliche as it sounds.

    Maybe it's my lifestyle of seeing escorts and prostitutes, or maybe not. Maybe it's because of that, that I can't maintain a 'proper' relationship; or maybe not. It might be a topic for another post, or not at all. I don't particularly care.

    What I do know is that people are people; at it's heart, the issue is (or should be) about real feelings that real people have about each other. Anything else is secondary.

    Up till now, I believed my feelings for her were real even if they've come under strain. Just like my feelings for my ex-girlfriend were real. They certainly did not change even after she allowed a threesome with us and an escort (more about this another time).

    Now I'm just wondering if I should just end it. I'm tired.

    It shouldn't be this difficult. I know relationships are never meant to be easy, but perhaps I've reached a nadir. Time to reach for an endpoint, and take it from there.

    Thank goodness she's now a continent away.

     

    ******************

     

    I wasn't sad that she was leaving. Just a strange feeling of disconnected-ness and discontent.

    Is this what happens when one has had enough? Is this what happens in the vague in-between-times of indecision?

    I shower quickly and lightly. She has finished pottering about with her things, and goes into bathroom as I come out. We hardly look at each other and don't utter a single word.

    When she's done and comes out, she says something about leaving the lights on so that she can read. I'm already reading, and I absent-mindedly say yes, okay.