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  • Connections

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    (This is a long-overdue story. I almost thought I won't be able to finish it, but I did, and here it is.) 

    This happened about two years ago. It seemed like a long time, though it's still quite fresh in my memory. 

     

    'Homecoming'
    We went to the club again, Bud and I, the one notorfious for its variety of working girls. This was in Thailand, so it was mainly Thai women. But there were a smattering of others, like Russians, Uzbeks, Kazakhs, and even Turks.

    It was smokey as usual, and there would come a time when the both of us stopped going; Bud because he was sick of the cigarette smoke, poor ventilation and increased entry charges; me because of all those reasons, but more directly, because I would leave the country in about a year's time (although I didn't know it then). 

    Her eyes seemed to light up when she saw me. She'd asked Bud about me when he went to the club a couple of weeks previously. She smiled and we started making conversation...and ended up slow dancing to a then-current and popular (and tacky, come to think of it) pop ballad I would otherwise never even want to listen to. And there and then, we made a connection.

    Lisa was special. The kind of special that a guy (even a punter) doesn't quite see as his first choice, but grows eventually to like her. And not out of desperation either. There were lots of other women that night, all for a price. But I only wanted this one.

     

    A bit about Lisa
    I first met her through another lady I'd taken...the Russian-Uzbek milf who belonged in the same group of friends as her. At that time I was an "unknown quality" to Lisa, I guess. I remember talking to her a few times, and after the milf left Thailand for home, Lisa hung around the club either alone or loosely with the remaining members of her group. There was a time that I approached her and she seemed only lukewam to making conversation, or even having eye contact with me. 

    That changed after her milf friend left, and also after I'd been away from the club for a while. I'd just come back from a work-related trip, and wanted to hang out with Bud at one of our usual haunts. And there she was.

    The truth was, I'd always had an eye for her, and the milf's departure was a good excuse to follow up with Lisa. I think she liked me too, and it was also likely she'd heard good things about me.

    Which brings us back to the present.     

    As we left the club to get a taxi, she and I started talking about her home and what she used to do there, before coming to Bangkok. She showed pictures of her daughter, a very cute little girl with a lot of her mother in her features. It didn't surprise me that she had a kid. Half of the Russian and Uzbek working girls here had had at least one child before; that's a safe bet about the women who are here in this kind of business.

    When we got back to my apartment, I let her take a shower first, while I watched TV. She seemed surprised and seemed to think I wanted to shower together with her.

    I was eager to get her naked and into my bed, but it was one of those paradoxes of life, where I've waited for something - or rather someone - even without realising it for so long, what was a few minutes (or ten) more?

    When I came out of my shower, she was under the covers. The TV was on, but no one was watching it. We were both expectant. 

     

    fe9eea3f82f29386115b083be8de8e57.jpgIn bed, not dreaming
    I'm not exactly sure what came next. As I got under the covers, she smiled at me and I grinned back. Then we held one another for a while.

    After what seemed like only seconds - these things happen too fast - we started to kiss. I moved my lips over hers, our tongues making eager contact. After a while my lips went over her cheeks, her ears, lingered on her earlobes; she gave little squeals of delight. 

    And as I slowly worked my way down her body, her hands gripped my arms tightly. At some point she seemed almost breathless. She showed her pleasure, and reciprocated.

    Some people can say all they want about Russian or Uzbek women. I see their point but I'm immune to them. I always try to maximise my positive experiences. And this was one of them.

    It may sound trite, but Lisa gave herself to me completely, taking my pleasure as her own.

    At times I thought I might have been too rough, but those times passed quickly. Lisa was responding and reciprocating in ways most of the women I've had never did. With real passion. 

    (It would be a long time, if ever - at the time of this writing - that I would experience someone like her again) 

     

    Morning after
    I woke up with my arms wrapped around her from behind, on our sides. Spooning. After a few minutes of regaining sufficient consciousness, I was horny again. I used my free hand (the other was either splayed out behind me, or under her - I can't remember) to brush her sides down to her thighs, and then between her legs. To my pleasant surprise, she was already wet. I wondered how long she'd been awake and feeling me behind her, touching her.

    Then she purred and turned her head to look at me, and smiled.

    We kissed, long and deep. Then we started getting up into a half-sitting, half-kneeling position. And as we really got into one another again, I reached for my condoms.

    She went on top, and we did it sitting up. When we were finished, we were both suffused in perspiration, a layer of it that was visible by the angled refraction of the light filtering through the window.

    After showering, she held my hand as we sat on the edge of my bed, relaxing. Later, as we said goodbye and took different routes - me to work, she to her apartment - my mind took a while longer to focus itself. I was still a bit giddy from all the activity. But I was happy.

    I never slept with her again, but somehow I always felt that special bond whenever we saw and spoke to one another at the club. Eventually she left the country, and I was uncertain when she'd ever be back. Not too long after that, I left too.