Jonesing for Kumbu's next installment!
Hey Kumbu!
Please honor us soon with the next episode in your 2013 BKK tour.
It looks like only you can save us from these tedious discussions about the psychology of bargirls.
And stay horny my friend...
Uncle-V
Tick Tock in the Wonderland
This one's for you, Uncle V.
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I awoke on Tuesday morning having slept more than any other night in the last 12: a full 6. 5 hours of sleep. I felt downright fetal in comparison to the last two weeks. The previous night had been a wash out. I had walked the streets of BKK in a futile attempt to find something special, and ended up with handfuls of nothing and the insipid taste of phantoms in my mouth. I awoke with the sound of a clock in my head, like a bomb about to go off, except this bomb was my impending departure from this wonderland that is BKK. Got to get cranking today, time is a tickin'.
I had two full days and nights left ahead of me. The days were scheduled to be full of work, and the nights needed to make up for that lost time. As a result of my bombed Monday night, I felt rested, and my pocket book was a little heavier (not finding anyone for the night meant I still had a couple of extra thousand baht to my name). So with the extra cash in my pocket and the pep in my step, things were looking good.
I dashed off to work, flirted with the office girls all day, and worked my tiny tush as hard as I could. And to my surprise and delight, we ended work a full hour earlier than scheduled. I boarded the skytrain at 4pm on my way back to the hotel, and decided to go straight to Mango. I needed a little bit of relaxation before the rigors of the evening.
I arrived at around 4:30, and a bunch of girls were outside eating. When I walked in, they all packed up and came inside, and there must have been 20 girls in that room at that point. Was this a shift change? Perhaps. I spied my little girl from the previous night, the no-name girl who sparked such a furor. I quickly scanned the mass of massage girl meat on display, and quickly opted for the same girl from the previous time. For some reason, the girls at Mango seemed to have way too much blush on their faces, it made them seem cheap and hussy-like. In fact, even my girl had this same over-done face make-up, and Kumbu no likey. But that is a minor quibble: so long as her ass came with all that blush, I am good to go.
I asked for her by name, and all the other girls rang out her name in a chorus, as if she were a superstar for being asked for by name. This time I chose just the one hour option, since I needed to get back to the hotel and freshen up for the exertions that would follow.
She smiled at me, remembered my name, and giggled as we walked up the stairs. We got into the room and she gave me a big embrace and a kiss on the lips, and said she was happy I came back and remembered her. How could I forget? I mean, this was the girl with whom I invented the new move, forever referred to as The Kumbu. I also spent an hour and a half worshiping her legs, buns and asshole. I sexed her for that period of time without even so much as touching her mouth or pussy with little Kumbu. It was very an interesting experience which was sure to bring this dog back for more.
So we showered together, nothing special, just some rigorous scrubbing and crevice cleansing. We got out and we lay out on the bed for a few moments, touching and caressing each other. She was pushing for some DFK, but I resisted, and she backed off promptly, without insult or injury. I then took charge and gently turned her onto her back, kissing her neck, her shoulders, and down to her breasts. I kissed the breasts, which were soft, clearly the breasts of someone in her early thirties. She responded with some louder-then-expected moans, which I did not particularly appreciate. But this spurred me on to move down her belly and to the beauty that lay beneath.
As expected, she smelled delicious and clean. I suppose she douched in the shower, and there was no stank to speak of. I got down slowly into her pubic hair, kissing it ever so slightly. I quickly noticed that she was short-cropped, which is my personal least favorite hair-do for the downstairs. It looks great, but talk about scruff burn: it hurts more than hell itself. I've ripped my lips up over such thorny cages before, so I am wary of such a prickly yet enticing treat. Her Bush was indeed thorny, and after just a few minutes of giving her a memorable lip-lashing, my lips were getting raw. But I persisted.
I worked her clit, which was openly visible, and her lips, which were tight and smallish, for a good 10 minutes. During this time she was moaning louder than I remember her doing last week, and it began annoying me. I mentioned this before, but I hate the fake moaning, it really puts me off. She also did this little jerky hip thrust, like all of a sudden she would jut her hip out a few inches and inhale quickly, as if she was suddenly being hit by a taser gun. This struck me as particularly fake, and it too was annoying me. After 10 minutes, I began pulling up, but she grabbed the top of my head and jammed it back in. I mean, she physically forced my head back in: I felt a little like a dildo being stuck back into her pussy.
Ok then. I guess she was enjoying this. So I persisted, and her moaning started to get louder and louder. I started to think that maybe, just maybe, this was how she actually reacts to sexual stimulation. Maybe she is naturally a groaner, and this is not really as fake as it seems. Well, hold your horses old Kumbu, let's not get ahead of ourselves here, patting ourselves on the back for no real reason. She is a WG after all, this is what she does for a living. I kept at it, but that sharp set of needles that was her pubic hair was really rubbing against my upper lip. So I slipped my left arm under her right thigh and around the other side (with her thigh in the crook of my arm) , and placed my left hand over her pubic hair, and gently pulled her public area upwards, thus pulling the top of her hood back with my palm and thereby killing two birds with one stone: I was intensifying her stimulation, while at the same time using my palm to protect my lips. Check out the brains on Kumbu!
This got her running. She lifted her hips and started a full-throated Oooooooooooooh and she held this perfect, single, unbroken, G note for a good 20 seconds. I was impressed with her operatic skills, and at the end of it there was a little shout. So it sounded a little like "Oooooooooooooo (20secondsworth) ooooooooooo-WAAAH!", at the end of which she started to buck like a fucking Charolais at the Oklahoma State Fair. I tightened my left arm so that I had a good grip on her thigh with that arm, and with my right arm, I reached underneath her now-airborn ass and grabbed a full palmful of ass flesh and squeezed tight. I now had a double-armed grip on her, one arm around her right thigh, the other around the top of her left thigh, grasping fully at the underside of her backside, all to avoid being bucked from this fiery steed. Meanwhile, I did my damndest to keep that tongue lashing at the clit, stroking rhythmically and fully, giving her all that the tongue would offer, as she climed the slopes of Climax Peak.
She burst open, metaphorically speaking, and her hips convulsed a little. She turned to the side, trying to get some distance from me, and I let her go at this point, and she started whimpering 'I want to suck you'. I kid you not, this is what she said, over and over again. It bordered on dirty talk: something that I have never heard a Thai girl do. So I obliged, but I was not done with her pussy just yet, so I flipped her over and had her sit down on my face and offered her little Kumbu for some oral pleasure. Ah yes, the beautiful view of the under carriage from beneath: is there a better image in all the universe? I think not.
So there I was, with my tongue deep within her pussy, nose squashing into her asshole, dick about to be sucked, when I realized that her asshole was wet wet wet. I mean it was dripping wet. WTF? I slowly realized the wetness was from her pussy. That is, all that DATY had produced volumes of liquids the likes of which I have rarely seen in a WG. I don't mean to pat myself on the back again, but this was real pussy juice that had dribbled all over her asshole. I kept tonguing her pussy for the next few minutes, but my attention was drained severely by the impending BBBJ she was about to give me.
Now before I tell you about this, let me preface with a little detail which is very important. Never in my life have I had a very satisfactory BJ. I just never have. Part of the problem is length. Little Kumbu is not particularly thick, but he is long, longer than usual. And because of this, girls can't really deep-throat me. Not that this is crucial, but it is something I can't get usually. The only time I ever had this was with a Lithuanian woman in an FKK in Germany several years ago, and this girl was, well, large. She was absolutely gorgeous and perfectly proportional (I reported on her in the FKK Artemis thread, if you are at all interested) , but she was perhaps 5'10" tall. And she deep-throated me like I have never been deep throated before. But no Thai girl has ever come close, for obvious dimensional reasons.
Second, little Kumbu tends to emit large quantities of pre-cum, I mean it is just a huge mess at times. And this stuff, I can imagine, is not particularly pleasant to taste, and so every BBBJ that I have ever received has been abbreviated because as gobs of this stuff fill the girls' mouths, they tend to think of ways to move on to something else. I don't blame them, but that's one of the reasons why I don't care too much about BJs: I've never had one that blew me away (pardon the pun).
So with that in mind, here is my description of the BJ she gave me. It was MAGNIFICENT. I mean simply a beauty to experience. The first thing she did was she gently took the head into the mouth and kind of just fumbled around with it a little with her tongue and lips. It reminded me a little bit of how a gangster standing on a 1930s street corner just tinkers with a coin as he eyes the passing pedestrians. She nuzzled, tinkled, and fumbled with the head like it was a gob-stopper, and it felt pretty good.
She then went deep throat on me in a way that kind of amazed me. She went down on me so hard and so suddenly that the tip of little Kumbu hit the back of her throat and she gagged a little. It was not a pleasant sound, but she was trying. She managed to get down to about an inch from the base of little Kumbu, which is further than most. But the deep throat was not what made this BBBJ special. It was what she did next which truly stood out.
She closed her lips around the shaft of little Kumbu and tightened her grip with her lips, and meanwhile, with her tongue, she did a gentle but firm set of circular motions along the underside of little Kumbu. Being this deep, this meant the entire underside of little Kumbu was being brushed deeply with the entirety of her tongue. I could feel her tongue rubbing in circles from the root to the tip, from the tip of little Kumbu almost to the base. It was a delight I shall savor for years to come. She did this for around 7 delightful seconds, and then released her lip-lock slightly, and at the same time her tongue hardened and the tip of her tongue pushed hard against the underside of little Kumbu. In a synchronized motion, she slid her mouth about a quarter inch up the shaft. Here she paused, and then repeated the whole thing again: tight lips while gently but firmly rubbing the underside of little Kumbu in craze-evoking circles, followed by a loose-lipped and tongue-tipped quarter-inch slide up the shaft. She did this in a rhythmic, metronomic yet sensuous fashion that just ignited me with buzzing, tingling sensations. My toes tingled, my solar plexus ignited, fuck, my asshole bulged too. It was a soulful, enlightening experience, the kind that I believe Buddha himself was seeking as he sat for years alone on a hilltop.
Imagine this machine slowly working its way up your shaft towards the head, with equal stimulation to the shaft as the underside, and it was slowly working towards the super sensitive underside just beneath the head. Holy Buh-Jesus, this was a great experience. So she got to the head, and did the final swirl of her tongue, and I was gasping for more. She paused to look at me, and I grinned at her like an addict grins at a pile of coke, with love and a sense of derangement. She then did the whole thing again, and I swear to you that if she had done it a third time I would have ejaculated in that poor girl's mouth with about a ton of cum, I was that hopped up.
But sadly my volumes of pre-cum put an end to that. At the end of the second cycle, she stopped to wipe the huge volumes of liquid from her mouth, and that kind of put me off. I mean, sure, it is a foul tasting effluent from a strange man's dick, but the sight of her wiping it from her mouth like it was some kind of, well, foul tasting effluent was not particularly pleasing. So I pulled out and moved on to the next act. While it ended poorly, I have to say that the technique she exhibited gets her full marks, even if the execution and commitment was somewhat lacking.
So I pulled out, she got off me, and on came the work-issued condom. I popped little Kumbu in, and away we went. I rode, rammed, hopped, humped, frolicked, skipped, slowed into a saunter, picked up pace into a canter and galloped the last quarter mile home to a standing ovation. The race was over before I knew it, and I collapsed onto her dripping with sweat and huffing like the stallion that I am not. The actual coitus was super quick, perhaps because of the delight of the preceding BBBJ, but whatever happened, it was done in a flash.
Shower, clean up, awkward dressing. 200b tip, kiss on the lips, diverted by Kumbu at the last minute to the cheek, and back downstairs. She gave me a Mango card, which a few days later embarrassingly fell out at the airport in front of five teenage Thai girls. She told me to make a booking next time to ensure better service. Ok, no intention to do so, but ok.
I walked out into the street and took a deep breath. Ah yes, that is the stench of BKK. As I inhaled the rancid air and absorbed the cacophony of traffic noises, I smelled her pussy juices in my nose and the back of my throat, and felt that dank, deep sense of being inside someone with one's mouth. Mmmm, savor that Kumbu, for it will not last forever.
My next report is from that same night, when I pounded the Leggy girl again, and I tried to teach her how to give a non-Kumbu-shredding BBBJ.
