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[QUOTE=Syzygies;1891227]Not many guys really care a lot about the face. LOL. [/QUOTE]For me the face is only about 25%. Body is 75%. I'll take a gal with a rocking body and a marginal face over a gall with a great face and a marginal body. In fact. A not so great face is nice sometimes as you don't feel like you are defiling anything angelic! 555+. It's all about body and skill set.
Incredible report. Thanks so much for posting. You certainly delivered on the leg meat worship, pussy licking and butt munching we have all come to know and love.
I am happy you had such great success at Climax. It looks like you have found your home and I expect there will be plenty of more reports form there.
I hope that you were able to get Ms. Dangerous Curve's contact info. She sounds like she ticked off all your boxes and brought you to a prenatal state of bliss. After al the anticipation you have built up entering her jade gate will be an incredible experience (for the both of you).
But there is also the thrill of the hunt and the variety to be had in Krung Thep, the (real) city of Angeles.
Always the great dilemma. But a blessed one one to have.
Stay horny my friend.
Uncle-V.
Wasted 5 dollars last night going to Nana Bilboards. 60 girls not one even close to being pretty. I think more coyotes than barfinable prostitutes.
What's there monthly nut? Rent, utilities, fees to agencies, etc. The numbers just don't add up-how do these places stay in business. 9 pm very few lady drinks being bought, no barfines, grouchy looking customers, hahahaha.
[QUOTE=Kumbu;1891337]There is something existentially magnifying when one finds that perfect gem in the sea of cubic zirconia. You look and you look, and at some point you feel the tension between fatigue on the one hand, and bulging testicular demand on the other. Which wins out? Sometimes, the scrotal imperative wins out, but to devastating effects. That's when you bed the very wrong person, just so you can bed [B]someone[/B]. You are so desperate to fuck that you acquiesce to the first proposition and tell yourself that at least you will get to fuck tonight. I dubbed this Cum Goggles in my previous post, and I was determined not to succumb to this effect tonight. I would rather retire with a quick wrist-whack to little Kumbu than spend money, time and energy on the wrong person. Perhaps with the mellowing of age, I have become more willing to forego the less-than-perfect-fuck in favor of keeping my powder dry for the battle the next night. That's especially noteworthy, since this is my first night in BKK after three long years, remember.
As I climbed into bed, I realized that I had to sleep in the corner of the bed because there were puddles of precum, pussy juice and spit all over the bed, with an especially large puddle right in the middle. Kumbu, you are one depraved muther fucker. And as I was falling asleep, I realized that the base of my tongue really, really hurt. I think I did pull something in my tongue as I tongue-fucked that gorgeous pussy.
Yes, it's true, I DO still exist. Heh, I crack myself up.[/QUOTE]Do we have something as the holy book on ISG; this report has to be in the holy book of ISG, I have not read such a beautiful write up about a single night and awesome experience in words which can put the best English teachers to shame. I though what we write was erotica but I think this is erotica and what we write is BS no fun to read our posts in front of this as we have music to ears this was pleasure to eyes, mind, body it was simply stimulating. Just reading all this I imagined everything and my hands are a bit in shiver as to what I have read.
Absolutely super: Need some another forum other than ROD to put this report for all newbies like us and even seniors that this is how you stimulate a night and then write about it.
Crazy man this is fucking classic:
Cheers: Never ever stop writing.
Alex
There's a woman who works in my office back States-side who explains the debacle that was Tuesday night. The woman, let's call her H, works in a related area to me, and is somewhat below me in the hierarchical structure of the organization. Put simply, H is a very, very annoying individual. She has a voice that grates at my ears. It is high-pitched, ultra nasal and highly aggravating. Her laugh reminds me of the Seinfeld woman who Jerry described as having a laugh like Elmer Fudd sitting on a juicer, except H's laugh is a little shriller. Her face looks like a military drone flew right into it a few moments ago, and her hair, oh god, her hair! It is dark, very frilly and tangled, and looks like rats have built a dwelling out of fur balls.
Because of her relative position to me in the organization, H often seeks out my time to discuss things and get advice. When I offer her advice, she is as stubborn as a bent nail. She just won't listen to what I have to offer, and yet she keeps coming back to grate my ears with her voice and frighten me with the rat-condo on her head. And the advice sessions last [B]forever[/B]! They just go on and on, broken up only by the sound of Elmer Fudd and the accompanying full-body shudder that I experience. And yet, seemingly inexplicably, I continue to accommodate her, taking her appointments and listening patiently to her shrill drone. Why do I do this? WHY?!
H has one of the most fabulous asses I have seen on either side of the Pacific. It is [B]spectacular[/B] in the most extreme sense. It is substantial, set upon wider-than-proportionate hips, seemingly firm (not flabby at all), superbly rounded, with excellent over-hang and perfect symmetry. It's the kind of thing that even when I am deep in conversation with the most ardent feminist in my office, and H walks by, I have to stop talking and glare at the beauty that is on display. It's embarrassing.
Moreover, the fact that her legs are awesome to the awesome-th degree gives H the perfect body, in my view. The rest of her body is trim and tight, and she is generally in good, clean condition.
So this explains it, right? Her ass and legs trump all else. I wish there was a way to somehow hide the brutal truth of it, but that's what nature gives us. Because of that ass, I spend countless hours in mindless discussion with her, looking really only at her face (ugh), and just dreaming of what fantastic flesh she is sitting on. And when she gets up to leave my office, I get my just rewards. She walks out, my eyes super-glued to her swinging, undulating, voluminous backside. I then sit back and exhale gently, trying simultaneously to suppress the self-loathing while maintaining the image of that ass in my mind as long as possible. And that cycle repeats itself ad nauseum.
My point? Human male psychology is incredibly susceptible to superficial female physical features. The shape of a woman's back-side has taken dozens of Kumbu-hours out of my life for no rational reason. I have no hope of ever sinking my teeth into that ass, nor, in truth, would I want to. The complexities that presents are just insurmountable. But I can't help myself. The ass calls, and I am its slave.
And so it was on Tuesday night. This is the story of how the World Welterweight Mongering Champion was beaten down by a heavyweight gogo girl. Not only was Kumbu taught some serious humility, our champion was made to eat crow regarding a previous post on a gogo girl that was too ugly for the high and mighty Kumbu.
[B]The Undercard[/B]
My diamond girl from the previous night left at around 5:45 am, and I was asleep within minutes. I awoke at 7:30 am to go to work, and my tongue hurt like a muther fucker. The base of my tongue was bruised and perhaps ripped a little, such was the ferocity of tongue fucking I performed the previous night. But shit, I don't regret that one bit. The day was intense and busy at work, and I did not get back from work until 7 pm. I was exhausted, still jet lagged, and running on less than 2 hours of sleep over the last 48 hours. I got into my hotel room and, I don't know how, but I fell asleep instantly. Perhaps "passed out" is a better description because I don't remember even lying down. I awoke three hours later, frantic that I might miss a night of shameless female body worshipping in this most energizing of cities. A quick shower and off I trotted into the rainy streets of Bangkok.
I went around soi 23 to try to check out Crazy House. The bar is not actually on soi Cowboy, but just around the corner on the soi. I arrived at around 10:45, not having been here for more than 3 years, so I was curious what lay within. You take a step up into the bar from the street through a curtain, and when your head emerges through the other side, bright neon light splashes right into your eyes, loud rock music blasting very loud, and you are faced with a wall of naked legs right in your face. It's almost like you are an infant going through reverse child birth. You are in the dark, dank bland outside world, and you enter through the curtain into a world of female coital body parts. The stage is right there at the entrance, and the girls are all butt-nekkid. So you walk in, and it is a tad jarring. I looked up just a little, and shaved pussy after shaved pussy winked coyly at me. I could not look at the faces, since it would require I crane my head all the way back, so close was I to that wall of dancing pussies atop a forest of legs. All naked, fleshy, and very, very gaudy, it must be said.
The place was absolutely rocking. There were no empty tables, and lots and lots of gawking men sat all around, eyes snapped to attention. I imagine that like their eyes, their hidden cocks within their pants were snapped to attention, all pointing towards the stage, like it was their true north. I slowly walked around the left side of the stage trying to avoid the bulging pants and cock compasses all poking into the walkway, hoping to find a place to sit. I could see the girls upstairs through the plexiglass, so I thought I might try to find my way upstairs, but the cock blockage in the walkway ahead of me proved too stressful for me to navigate, and luckily I spotted a stool at the edge of the stage, so I grabbed it and sat down. Phew.
Heineken arrives, and my eyes begin to focus on the task at hand. The sleep was still heavy in my eyes, and my head contained a dull ache, a combination of sleep-deprivation, physical fatigue and sexual anticipation.
I look around and all that flesh right in my face was a little too much for me to endure. It was like stimulus overload just too much leg-meat, ass meat, shaved pussies, peroxide hair, loud music, screams of waitresses and men all around, it was just too much for the fragility of Kumbu's mood at that moment in time. I needed to settle myself, so I went into my zen mode and tried to pull back a little. I took a deep breath, closed off my mind to the blasting stimuli all around me, and started a rather detached survey of the situation. It was like I was having an out-of-body experience, silence in my head, floating gently just outside in front of my forehead, looking left and right at the customers who frequent this place.
Above me was the plexi-glass ceiling, with naked girls dancing up there. I guess you could see their naughty bits from down here, which gives the allure of some kind of peeping-tom sleaze, but I could not be wanked to crane my neck upwards for more than 2 seconds, so I did not bother. The girls were literally directly above me, so I would have to look straight up to catch a glimpse of anything. Plus the plexiglass was not quite crystal clean: there was plenty of butt-grease and other impurities which made it less than transparent. So the view of a girl's undercarriage would be blurry at best. Weirdly, given my proclivities for cleanliness, that grime on the plexiglass did not gross me out. It kind of turned me on.
The gent to my left was a white dude, perhaps mid-forties, well dressed (clean jeans, plaid shirt, well-preped haircut), sitting on the stool clutching his beer with both hands, as if in mid-prayer to the god of cheap, hussied up ladies of the night. He was looking up at the mass of naked flesh, with the single largest goofy smile on his face I had ever seen. In real life, this guy could have been a banker or a reporter or an English teacher, all well-respected professions. But here tonight, he was a giddy, horn-dog who could not conceal his sheer out-of-this-world giddiness at having 20 naked girls prancing mere inches from his delighted nose. He was not looking anywhere other than the pussies that were a few inches above his wide-eyed boy-like eyes. His back was straight as a nail, as was his hidden cock compass, and his face looking eagerly upwards at the stank-filled stage.
On my right were a couple of Aussies, giggling like school girls at the most fortunate predicament they found themselves in. They were giggling about the one with the fake boobs, or the one with the tiny, scuffy ass, or the one with the stick-like legs, etc. They were very cute together, and I felt warm watching them. These two mates were going to spread some down-under cum quite liberally tonight.
And next over from the Aussies was a Japanese guy. Hmm, this guy was not your regular business man from Japan, I. E. , he's not the kind of guy you see at places like Bacarra. There, you get the well-oiled, highly pompous (by Japanese standards), high-end Japanese business men who have more money than they know what to do with, and like to have three girls at a time fawn over them. No, this was not such a man. He was beyond middle-age, perhaps in his early sixties. His hair was there, though wispy, and he was wearing a somewhat dated sports coat, perhaps from the 1970's. His face was looking horizontally, but his eyes were turned upwards to the girls, almost rolled all the way back into his head. It was kind of unnerving to watch, which is why it caught my attention. Moreover, his mouth was hanging open in a rather odd manner. His lower lip hung down low, revealing his lower teeth, which were just a tad open from the top teeth. But you could see the entirety of his lower set of teeth, hanging there, unmoving, as he looked upwards in a mesmerized trance. He had an orange juice held in his hands, just an inch or two off the surface of the bar, and the straw was stuck to his lower lip. It was not being sucked, it was just stuck there, perpetually held to his lip through dried spit. . . Just dangling there. It was the oddest scene. It was almost as if he was mid-orgasm. Watching the nakedness of these girls was enough to get his orgasm machine churning, and he was just sitting there letting it churn and churn and churn, hoping to meet a happy ending to his entire life. What a happy way to go, right?
Suddenly there was a lout woot, and like well-trained monkeys, everyone instantly looked upwards. Ok, it must be some kind of show. I looked up and the girls had sat down on the plexiglass now, and all I could see were two squashed bums moving left and right on the glass above me. Interesting, I must admit, to see bum flesh pressed up against glass like that, is indeed a pleasant, if not unusual experience. That explains the sheen of butt grease I had seen earlier. But I could not see what the girls were doing, since whatever they were sticking into their pussies was obscured to my view. I heard some kind of hissing, and then popping, and best I could figure was they were blowing up balloons and then shooting some kind of dart out of their pussies to pop the balloons. Again, interesting, but not my cup of tea.
I tired of this place quickly. I looked carefully at all the girls on stage, and there were so many of them, and there was so much jostling, I just could not get a good vibe going. Most of them were not my type: skinny legs, skinny little runt-like asses, and fake boobs. Not my deal at all. Moreover, the 3-4 of them who were much more Kumbu-worthy were showing me no love at all, and so I decided to bail after just 6-7 minutes.
I know Crazy House is a favorite of many on this thread, so let me say that it is definitely worth checking out. But it won't work for everyone, right? To each his own, and this one is not one of my own.
[B]The Champ Enters the Ring[/B]
I walked out, turned left, entered soi cowboy, and decided to pay Pretentious Pudgy Girl from the previous night a visit. I thought I might get a second look at her and see if she is BF worthy. So I walked in, and this time (around 11 pm), Bacarra was much more lively than the previous night. There were a dozen girls on stage, dressed slightly better than last time, and slightly more active. I took a quick gander at them and decided upstairs was my preference. So I went up and found a seat on the far side at the back. Nice spot since I could see the whole bar very well, though a little far from the girls.
I spied Pretentious Pudgy Girl immediately. Turns out she is #81. Her face is really the only thing she has going. She has a very definite Meagan Fox thing going, which is pretty cool, but her body was quite stocky. I like some flesh on my girls, but she seemed a little too soft and thick, even for me. But more unappealing was the fact that she was really, really into herself. She was just fixated on dancing for herself in the mirror. Every opportunity she got, she would find a mirror and just stick to it. She showed no interest in customers, though she was kidding around and playing with the other girls. Anyway. Pretentious Pudgy Girl was fast fading as a potential mate for Kumbu tonight.
Meanwhile, I see my lass from the other night, the one who I had unnecessarily called pretty, despite her less than pretty appearance. #23, Plaa is her name. Plaa, she tells me later, means 'fish' in Thai. But as I saw her, I did not see the ugliness that I saw the night before. Somehow, from this vantage point, or in this current state of mind, she looked rather pretty. She had pretty eyes, a pretty set of cheekbones, and all I could now see is a super toned little mid-section. She had smallish (though pretty breasts), and super thick legs. But her legs looked very, very firm, and not fatty at all. She was checking the boxes on Kumbu's checklist pretty well tonight. As noted by someone in response to my post from Monday night, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. True, and the same beholder's eye changes from moment to moment, it seems.
Now this is where my opening story about the giel with the lovely ass in my office comes in. With Plaa, she was not a winner in my books, since her face was unusual, and her ass was a little flabby. But her legs, ay, her legs, they were something else. I would not call them beautiful legs, or spectacular legs, or pretty legs, since they don't fit the prototypical meaning of those words. But they were very unusual. When one has a fetish for something, you want to explore all the little corners and edges of that fetish, and so it was on Tuesday night. Against my better judgment, I ended up taking Plaa, almost entirely because I wished to explore the particulars of her walking apparatus. Because of this, all that followed was viewed through the rose-tinted glasses of sexy legs.
She saw me and giggled, and without asking permission, just scampered over rather adorably. She came over and did a wai, and then cuddled up so puppy-like right in my arms, it was delightful. She giggles about how she thought I was not coming back, and she's glad I did, blah blah blah. Short story: she was working me very well. I was fully aware of this, but I was also aware of something else that was very important. My hand was on the inside of her leg, just above the knee, and goddam that was lighting me on FIRE! Smooth, silky, sexy leg flesh, oh man, Kumbu, you are such an easy mark.
So a LD magically arrives almost as if I had agreed to buy it, we chat some, and then she says she has to dance, but will be back right after her rotation, as if it is perfectly cool to bilk a man out of a LD and then disappear moments later for the dance. Fine, gives me a chance to reassess my stance here with her. She was physically attractive to me tonight, and we were hitting it off, so why not, right?
She returns and after 5 minutes of small talk, she says 'no customuhhh tonight, only ladydink' Yadi yadi yada, "I want go widjoo tonigh" Ok, sounds about right. I ask her what the BF is (600 baht), and then what her fee is, and she says you want ST or LT? I say how much? And she says LT is 5000 and ST is 3000. I pause, and she looks at me, and she says "but I want go widjoo tonigh, so for you, long taii 4000 baht, shortai 2,500. " Giddy up. Little did I know it, but this was the high point of the evening.
[B]The Early Rounds[/B]
She comes back wearing a bright tangerine colored top with white jeans. Fetching, if slightly on the loud side. She's wearing strapped high heels, and is carrying an amazingly obvious knock off designer bag. Put this all together, and her dress choices clearly tag her a country girl trying to play the Big City Game. No worries, I love fucking country girls.
[B]Jab, jab, jab[/B]
So we hold hands as we walk back down soi 23 to Sukhumvit Suites. Talk is stilted, though that's par for course on the gogo-walk-back to the hotel. When we get to the elevator in the hotel, she leans on my shoulder and says 'oh, me welly dunk. ' I ask why she's drunk, and says 'me dink tequilaaa, too many. ' How many? Ten. What? It's barely 11 pm and she's had ten shots? Yikes, these girls do some serious gulp to make their money, it ain't funny. Ok, so this was the first clue that things would go south very fast.
When we get into the room, she walks in, kicks off her high heels revealing a couple of rather cute, if largish, duck-shaped feet. Wide, flat, and utterly duck-foot-like. Amazing. But the problematic part was not her flippers, but rather the fact that she walked right over to the lounger, sits down and pulls out her iPhone. Ok, I thought, she needs to text someone to tell them where she is. This is a safety thing Kumbu, don't worry you old worry wart.
I walk over and look down at the phone and see she is surfing some website. Looks like some kind of Thai gossip website. Hmm. Odd, right? She's not even talking to me. She's not being aggressive or anything, but she's kind of on autopilot here. So I say 'Umm, excuse me? We have something to do here, right?
'You have beer? I want to dink beer. ' I thought she was already drunk? So I said no, I have no beer for you here. Shall we shower? She instructs me to shower. Hmm, ok. This is not going terribly well, but I'll win her over, right? I've been in worse situations before and I have always managed to pull out something memorable.
So I shower, and when I exit, she's still in the exact same spot surfing the web. So I take a clean towel and take it over to her and place it right in her lap without saying a word. Hint, hint. She takes the hint, puts her phone away and off to the shower. Fuck me, must I do everything around here?
When she comes out, she is naked beneath the towel, and I can see her lovely, thick legs. Hmm, how can I win this night? Psst, gorge on the legs, Kumbu, gorge on the legs.
She goes over to her purse and picks up her phone and I say in a loud and abrupt voice "Uh!" She puts the phone away and sheepishly climbs onto the bed. So I try to talk to her to get some chemistry going. But I'm sailing into a stiff breeze. She is not a very good talker. She does not have much of a sense of humor, not like my diamond from the previous night. But I persist, and eventually I manage to get smile out of her, and then a little bit of a laugh, and things start to ease up. Phew.
Meanwhile, over the last 5 minutes, I had placed my hands on her body. First it was her elbow, then her shoulder, then the top of her chest above her breasts, and I pulled some of the towel up and placed my hand on her hip, and then the outside of her thighs. Her skin was soft, but no where near as silky as the diamond from the night before. Her skin is significantly whiter than my diamond, but rougher and slightly harder. Not sure how to describe it, but her body was just. . . Hard. It was built like a tank-very big boned, and solid. It was the kind of body that was designed to pull a plow through the field, followed by rice picking in the midday sun, and then hauling water from the river 2 miles away. Her stock was from the salt of the earth, and generally I enjoy such body types once in a while, so there was hope.
[B]Body Blow[/B]
So I pulled the towel off and behold, the champion is besting this challenger now. She did indeed have the tightest of mid-sections. I put my hands on her belly and ran them around her sides, feeling and groping all I could. Her hips were wide, wide, wide, which was accentuated by the skinniness of her tight little waist. It was superb to behold: such magnificent curvature, perfectly pleasing to a grumpy, sore-tongued Kumbu. Her breasts were small but her nipples were very, very attractive. They were small and pert, sitting within the flesh of a smallish 'be' cup. I rubbed my hands over them for a few moments before moving my attention to fields a-yonder.
She lay on her back, with her head on the pillow. I sat on my legs facing her, such that she wrapped her legs around me, with her hips slightly perched on my knees. So from here I could reach forward and cup her face (should I desire), and then run my hands all the way down her upper body, to her hips and pussy and thighs. Her thighs were right there wrapped around my waist, and so groping was most definitely on the agenda. Her pussy was, I must admit, truly spectacular. It was totally, totally bald. 100% bare, completely free of any foliage, and as pink and soft as an infant girl's baby blanket.
So I began my manual inspection of her body, inspecting every crevice and crack, every lump and mole, every turn in the symmetry and angular imperfection. Tonight I was a cartographer of female form, dutifully mapping every inch of the terrain of her body. It was pleasure supreme, and I never tire of this. But as I was midst-fetish here, she says to me:
"You want to fuck? Short time one hour. ".
To me, that was word salad. It made no sense at all. I couldn't even begin to parse what she said, and it showed on my face. So she says.
"Tilac, short time always one hour. No wolly, enough time to make good time widjoo. ".
So I said, "Tilac, short time is never one hour. Short time is at least 3 hours, and long time is all night, chay may?" We argue the semantics of this term for a while, agreeing to disagree. Her position was that Bacarra girls have a different expectation placed upon them by management, and so the definition of ST for them must, by sheer necessity of economics, change. Whatever, I was too deep at this point to bail, so I was going to find a silver lining if I could.
I was going to keep her however long I wanted, end of story. So I told her that. I said "You stay until I am finished and happy, chay may?" And she said "chaaaaay kaaa" as if that was never a question. So what is this one hour bullshit then? If she stays two hours, is she going to charge me an overage, like A-T-and-fucking-T? No, not going to happen. So I fail to see the advantage of even mentioning that we is under a time restriction. Best I could figure, she was impatient, drunk, and unable to hold her motor mouth in check. So she just verbalized what every WG is thinking, it's just that all the other WGs I have been with had more sense than to tell me to hurry the fuck up and finish because she has places to be.
So with that settled, and the sour taste still in my mouth, I decided to switch the taste to something significantly sweeter. I pulled her legs up and took a good look at them. Boy, I now realized just how thick they were. I ran my hands over them and they were much too thick for me to even hold properly. They were solid, heavy, mahogany-like pieces of architecture. Her knees were as thick as my own knees, and I was at least 6 inches taller than her, and probably a good 25-30 pounds heavier (I think she was around 5'4" and 120 pounds). Her calves were also thick, but they were very, very shapely. That is, the ankle was slender, the calf muscle widened gently, and then widened some more, and then even some more, into a thick tuber-like appendage, ready for my groping and oral manipulations. I kissed and sucked her calves for a few moments, but this was not nearly as pleasurable as the diamond from the night before. Her skin was not as smooth, her bones and muscle were really just very. . . Dense, and her legs were just too thick for me. I [B]never[/B] thought I would say such a thing, but there it is.
[B]Upper Left, Right Hook, the Champ Goes Down[/B]
I took a look at her pussy and thought it would be really nice to suck the living cum out of that pretty, desert-like surface. But fuck, my tongue could barely move enough to talk, let alone do any kind of DATY gymnastics, so I had to pass on that. So I pull off my towel and proffer little Kumbu to her for some warm-up oral action before the final rounds in this about. But she snarls her lips up to show me the metal works in her mouth, and she says 'No can do blow job, blaces no good. '.
Uh, yah, CAN do blow job, me had blow job before from lady with braces, daay. But may daay was the response. So her braces precluded the possibility of oral action, which is something I had not really thought about. Hmm, I wonder if those braces were just a prop. Some ingenious entrepreneur figured out a way to sell these girls prop braces that they can pop into their mouths and then use that as an excuse for not offering BJ. Boy, I've never had this happen to me before, where a girl just point-blank refuses to do a basic sex act. Hmm, I pondered kicking her to the curb, and just cutting my losses, but I could not do that. See, I was still stuck between her sexy legs, and you know how spell-bound I am when in such a compromising position, right?
And then she says to me (I am kidding you not), "You can finish quickly, chaay maay? I no like long time fucking, jep. Finish quickly, ok?
Oh come the fuck on girlfriend, you have got to be shitting me. This is no longer the alcohol speaking, this is your bullshit attitude. Kumbu is an eminently patient man, I think we can all agree, but service providers need to provide a service. Without said service there cannot be a service industry, since all payment will cease. I had to draw a line under this.
I stopped all movement, and looked at her, silently, without words. She yattered on for a moment or two longer before she realized there was something about to go down. She stopped and looked at me. "You ok? Arai na?
[B]The Champ beats the Count, the Cum Back Begins[/B]
I said nothing. Expressionless, I leaned in to her, looked her in the eyes directly, and whispered, "I want to have sex for more than one hour. Can you do? If no, you can leave now. " And I slowly lifted my hand and pointed to the door, all the while holding her eye gaze without any break. My face was neither angry nor happy, but just very emotionless, so there was no direct anger aimed towards her. It was a very serious, but matter-of-fact point I was making. The pause lasted a full 15 seconds (an eternity in such a situation), and she relented. The floodgates crashed open, and she suddenly was the epitome of good service.
She reached down and grabbed little Kumbu and started a gentle hand pump because he had lost his verve in this little kerfuffle, and then she said 'let me try' and she pops little Kumbu into her mouth. Hah, would you look at that!
Right?
But her skills were truly atrocious. She had no fucking clue what she was doing. She was sucking erratically, sometimes left to right, sometimes up and down, she was trying to swish her tongue around the head but she was just squishing tongue meat against the top of the head, right into the urethra. That actually kind of hurt, and I pulled back. She then tried to swirl her head around little Kumbu's head, but her head moved, and her lips and tongue remained steady, so there was no effect. It was comical how miscoordinated and ignorant she was at this most simple of activities. How can a woman, especially a WG at one of Bangkok's premiere sex institutes be so inept? I imagined this is what it would be like to get a blow job from a retarded girl. Oh those of you in the PC police, please shut the fuck up, I mean mentally disabled girl, ok? I dunno, this may have all been an act to show me that I should not ask for what she is not prepared to offer.
Hmm, undeterred, I moved on to the next stage. So I pulled out my condom. Here we go, Kumbu, this is your weapon of choice. This will do the trick. Let's get our first pussy fuck here, and let's make it count. As I sheathed little Kumbu, I whispered to him like the coach does to the fighter in the break before the 12th round. Come on champ, you can do this. She's there for you to take, don't lose focus now, this is yours to win.
Trojan donned, I lift myself onto my knees, survey her pussy beneath me, and plunge, like a river eagle going down for its prey, straight down into her pussy. Her pussy was dry, very dry, so dry in fact that I could barely get my head into her labia, much less into her vaginal canal. Nope, nothing happening here. So I bend over, slap my tongue all over her pussy. Ouch, double ouch, but this was not penetrative tonguing, but more like lubricating tongue swabbing. So I rub my tongue all over her lips, and as deep into her pussy as I could get my sore tongue to go, so she was all wet and welcoming. That little sucking was actually pretty lovely, to tell the truth. Perfectly smooth, soft pussy flesh is pretty yummy. I'm glad I got a chance to suck that little thing a little.
In goes little Kumbu, and I start gently. I have no desire to hear the words 'jep' pass this girl's lips, so I am extra gentle with her. Slowly does it little Kumbu. It's been a while since you've done the fucking job, but try to remember how it goes, ok? As I pumped very gently, I lay my head down on her chest and suckled one of those pert, ripe little cherries on top of her breasts. They were hard little fuckers, suggesting that this hard-as-nails girl was warming up to me.
Right on cue, she started to moan and gasp a little. But I kept my rhythm, not increasing, not slowing, just steady as you go. Hello fish (Plaa), meet Kumbu, he's my metronomic little friend. This continued for a good five minutes, with little wriggles here and there, but not much change. I then picked up the tempo just a tad, and she gasped in appreciation. We maintained that for another couple of minutes, and then I switched angles of penetration. This time rather than a more top-to-bottom angle, I started coming in from the bottom heading for the top of the vagina. I was hitting the roof of her vagina with the head of little Kumbu, and she was digging it. I did this for another five minutes.
Then I switched angles again, this time it was round and round entry, all at the same pace as before. And then another switch of angles to the zig-zag pattern. It was fun doing all these angles. I was being creative because I had decided this was going to be a long and unusual fucking session, just because our little fishy here had tried to short change me. You just learned a little about my character right there.
Eventually, we switched positions to her on her side, and me entering her from behind, spooning. Boy, her hips were so wide, they came up to the top of my shoulder. I. e. , her hips were as wide as my shoulders are. I'm not a particularly broad-shouldered man, but even still, those are some seriously wide hips. It was a mammoth turn-on to be groping those wide hips while I fucked, so much so that so I had to switch positions again.
She hopped onto me for some CG, which was great because I could get a good feel for her strong, solid ass. It was kind of overweight, but hey, cock in pussy, I am not going to complain. So we fucked, I groped, I sucked breasts, hmph, all was good with the world.
We switched back into missionary and went another 20 minutes or so until she eventually came. She slapped my shoulder and pushed me off her as she heaved and breathed. She had to catch her breath, and five minutes of small talk (which was rather unaggressive, I must say), and we went back to it to try to finish little Kumbu off. I could have gone on and on, truth be told, but I was so fucking tired, I decided it was time to get me some doggie. I pulled her up, and thankfully, she knew how to do doggie. She stuck her ass way up into the air, placed her breasts flat on the bed and arched her back tightly. Perfect. In goes little kumbu, pushing pussy lips aside, and contorting the shape of her little asshole, and bada bing, bada boom, fireworks begin. I explode in a sense of vigor, thrill, relief and inevitable melancholy. I collapse onto her, and she reaches around to do her best to hold me gently. We stayed there a moment, but only a moment, before she grabbed the base of little Kumbu, holding the condom on the shaft, and gently pulled him out.
Clean up, shower, kop khun kaaa, 2500 baht, "You no give me tip laaw? Goodnight, don't let the door slam your ass on the way out, lights out, asleep in under 30 seconds.
It may not have been your best showing but you picked yourself up off the canvas to win the match by points.
Great move by giving her a stern but unemotional talking to. You played that one masterfully and got off the ropes. . I will have to remember this little maneuver the next time I run into the same kind of situation.
Service is so hit and miss with the younger ones. Though I was lucky enough to pick up a very accommodating and super cute little 20 year old at Ibar last trip. As always, selecting the right girl is so damn important. And so tough to gauge with the gogo girls. That's why I like the FL scene better. It's easier for me to see if there is a rapport before taking her to the room and I almost always have a memorable time.
Any trip is bound to have its ups and down. And you emerged a winner. I look forward to reading the next report. I have a feeling you will be returning to Climax. 555.
[QUOTE=Joomani;1891776]Wasted 5 dollars last night going to Nana Bilboards. 60 girls not one even close to being pretty. I think more coyotes than barfinable prostitutes.
What's there monthly nut? Rent, utilities, fees to agencies, etc. The numbers just don't add up-how do these places stay in business. 9 pm very few lady drinks being bought, no barfines, grouchy looking customers, hahahaha.[/QUOTE]Interesting coinsidence to read a rare recent negative review of Billboard in Nana Plaza since the place has been getting lots of positive buzz after a change in management, philosphy or whatever. Coincidence because my buddy and I stopped in two nights ago prepared to spend some cash on Ladydrinks and barfines after not bothering to go there for several months just to see what was earning all the positive buzz and we were out of there within 5 minutes.
Perhaps if the girls had been gorgeous or if either one of us was feeling the least bit welcome or appreciated by one or two of them as we passed the bath tub scene and then the carousel stage on the way to our booth we might have stayed longer.
But the waitress' attitude was so pissy and condesending when we asked politely that our next drinks be tabulated on separate check bins as she placed our first drinks on the table and we saw she had combined our orders on one check, rolling her eyes, pointing at the itemized drinks and prices on the same tab, "teaching" us how to figure out who owes what as though we were the umpteenth mentally ill patients at the asylum she'd had to contend with by 10 pm, I just told her no problem we will settle up right now and leave. My buddy fully agreed. And that is what we did.
In and out within 5 minutes. No plan to return for another several months, if ever.
[QUOTE=MichaelSamuel;1891390]Scheduled a nice 2 hour session with Benz at SW..[/QUOTE]Quick question, what is SW?
[b][u]EDITOR'S SUGGESTION[/u]:[/b] [blue]There is a link labeled "[u]Abbreviations[/u]" in the menu bar at the top of this page. This will take you to the Forum's Glossary where you will find a chart with most of the Terms & Abbreviations used in the Forum. [i]Thanks![/i][/blue]
[QUOTE=Joomani;1891408]I still don't get it. On stage or off stage CH girls are just mediocre to average in looks.[/QUOTE]I agree. I think the reason it is more popular and more talked about is there is a much higher level of nudity at the club compared to elsewhere.
[QUOTE=Kumbu;1891930]I tired of this place quickly. I looked carefully at all the girls on stage, and there were so many of them, and there was so much jostling, I just could not get a good vibe going. Most of them were not my type: skinny legs, skinny little runt-like asses, and fake boobs. Not my deal at all. Moreover, the 3-4 of them who were much more Kumbu-worthy were showing me no love at all, and so I decided to bail after just 6-7 minutes.
I know Crazy House is a favorite of many on this thread, so let me say that it is definitely worth checking out. But it won't work for everyone, right? To each his own, and this one is not one of my own.[/QUOTE]Ok, I need to take this back, fellas. Or at least modify it. I just woke up from a night of crazy, dirty, repugnant PSE threesome sex that I had with girls from Crazy House. It was terrific, the whole thing, from the time in the bar (which was raunchy and dirty and very pleasurable) to the time in the room, which involved pussy-to-mouth action, something I've never done before. No time to write up the details yet, but they will come as soon as I write about the previous night.
Doom and Gloom for Bangkok's agogos. There are no replacements in the pipeline. I did a count last night (in my mind. Hahahaha) ID say more than half the girls on stage in Nana are either Transgenders or Coyotes.
I always take a peek into that Coyote bar next to Rainbow 4 and see many girls on stage and maybe 5 customers. I remember even a watered down Rainbow 4 being a cash cow. No more. How long can this last-financially?
[QUOTE=EihTooms;1892055]<SNIP>
But the waitress' attitude was so pissy and condesending when we asked politely that our next drinks be tabulated on separate check bins as she placed our first drinks on the table and we saw she had combined our orders on one check, rolling her eyes, pointing at the itemized drinks and prices on the same tab, "teaching" us how to figure out who owes what as though we were the umpteenth mentally ill patients at the asylum she'd had to contend with by 10 pm, I just told her no problem we will settle up right now and leave. My buddy fully agreed. And that is what we did.
In and out within 5 minutes. No plan to return for another several months, if ever.[/QUOTE]I agree with your position on this ET except to say, with great respect to you, that you could have made your point a bit more strongly by asking to see the manager / owner / person-in-charge and told him / her why you were leaving after one drink.
I have been living and working in SE Asia for the past 20 years (primarily in Philippines but elsewhere too) and I have learned that we can actually make a difference to the way things are done by politely and respectfully asking to see a manager and pointing out the rudeness, faults or silly procedures etc that some of these places have. Complaining to a cashier or waitress or shop attendant makes not one scrap of difference to anything as they simply shrug and don't care about what we say or think as it is not affecting their income. In many cases the manager etc also doesn't give a shit either but occasionally you get a result. If the girl gets into trouble then too bad. If she is allowed to continue being rude, then others will also suffer the same as you.
I have a list of examples where I have actually CHANGED a procedure in a service outlet by complaining about the service quality AS WELL AS suggesting what might be done instead. Sometimes it doesn't take much extra effort to register a complaint. I have been surprised by the looks of amazement when I suggest they do something that is much more efficient and effective and they simply had not thought about it at all before because nobody had ever said anything. Filipinos never complain to authority figures, and I suspect Thais are the same.
[QUOTE=Hullabaloo;1892148]Quick question, what is SW?
[b][u]EDITOR'S SUGGESTION[/u]:[/b] [blue]There is a link labeled "[u]Abbreviations[/u]" in the menu bar at the top of this page. This will take you to the Forum's Glossary where you will find a chart with most of the Terms & Abbreviations used in the Forum. [i]Thanks![/i][/blue][/QUOTE]To answer your question, SW as used in the Thai threads of this Forum means either "Snow White" or "Suzie Wong" or probably less commonly "street walker " or "sex worker." The Terms and Abbreviations in the forum seem to not list "Snow White" or "Suzie Wong."
In the context of the post to which you seem to be referencing, it refers to Snow White, which is a PSE oily massage place located on Sukhumvit Soi 26. Suzie Wong is a go go bar in Soi Cowboy.
[QUOTE=RedKilt;1892241]I agree with your position on this ET except to say, with great respect to you, that you could have made your point a bit more strongly by asking to see the manager / owner / person-in-charge and told him / her why you were leaving after one drink.
I have been living and working in SE Asia for the past 20 years (primarily in Philippines but elsewhere too) and I have learned that we can actually make a difference to the way things are done by politely and respectfully asking to see a manager and pointing out the rudeness, faults or silly procedures etc that some of these places have. Complaining to a cashier or waitress or shop attendant makes not one scrap of difference to anything as they simply shrug and don't care about what we say or think as it is not affecting their income. In many cases the manager etc also doesn't give a shit either but occasionally you get a result. If the girl gets into trouble then too bad. If she is allowed to continue being rude, then others will also suffer the same as you.
I have a list of examples where I have actually CHANGED a procedure in a service outlet by complaining about the service quality AS WELL AS suggesting what might be done instead. Sometimes it doesn't take much extra effort to register a complaint. I have been surprised by the looks of amazement when I suggest they do something that is much more efficient and effective and they simply had not thought about it at all before because nobody had ever said anything. Filipinos never complain to authority figures, and I suspect Thais are the same.[/QUOTE]I agree with you about taking our complaints to the management in the hope of actually making a difference. However, I must say in the case of Billboard in Nana Plaza doing so appears to be a waste of time. The fact is I had done exactly that several months earlier after a few visits, talked to the mamasans about one lousy barfine experience after another, multiple pissy attitudes from the servers, overall disinterest vibes from the girls, etc. I even had a long and candid conversation about it with one of the previous owners outside the premises once upon a time. Then I'd pop in, give it another try, found the same problems firmly in place as though no one had any problems at all other then me and moved on. Who knows, maybe it is just me, my buddy, and the fellow whose post prompted my response who have ever had a problem there. Actually, that is why I hadn't bothered to go there for several months and only went back in because I'd heard that there were big improvements taking place.
Not that I could tell.
In this case, I just didn't feel like "teaching" a mamasan or a manager, even if they were new ones and not the previous ones, how to improve this particular establishment since I was with a friend and we really didn't feel like prolonging the bad vibes Billboard was delivering to us on this night. Too many other places and much better girls to visit outside that Billboard curtain and down the steps to the lower levels of Nana Plaza. So that is where we headed as quickly as possible.
[QUOTE=Goatboy55;1892160]Re: Originally Posted by Joomani, "I still don't get it. On stage or off stage CH girls are just mediocre to average in looks."
I agree. I think the reason it is more popular and more talked about is there is a much higher level of nudity at the club compared to elsewhere.[/QUOTE]I think you are right about that. Last week, Thursday night, I went into Crazy House with a couple of friends and after a few minutes we all looked at each other and remarked that the line up in this bar would be below average for one of the lesser go-go bars around the corner or in Nana Plaza. We were there from about 8:30 pm to 10 pm, watching every shift, hoping things would improve as newer girls came in around 9 pm and 9:30 pm. Sure, there were two or three do-able girls, maybe one might think a couple of them were "hot". But the vast majority had thick ankles, tree trunk legs, rice bellies, dowdy faces and bad skin.
Yet, I have to say the instant we entered Crazy House I was still impressed by the wall of relatively young female flesh positioned brilliantly just at and above eye level as you walk in the door. Very impressive. That instant visual still has the power to persuade an interested party into thinking the place is full of rare gems, even when that is demonstrably not so.
Have you ever seen some of those Crazy House girls in plain clothes on their way to the bar at the beginning of their work night (in fairness, this could be asked about virtually any go-go bar girls)? The answer is in fact, yes, you have seen many of them on their way to work. The thing is neither you nor I would look twice at most of those ordinary or below average looking girls when they are in their regular street clothes, which might also be different garb than the clothes they wear on a barfine take-out. But, fully nude, standing at a high angle on a go-go bar stage with follies pink filtered light on them to help them look younger, fresher, ironing out the wrinkles and unsightly bulges, and suddenly we're talking "Showgirl!". LOL.