Who are these men of lust, greed and glory?
This now is a report on a night at Mixx three Mondays ago. I was not actually planning on posting this, since the scoreline on this report is essentially nil. That is, I don't report on any of the vital statistics that are so important to the readers of this forum: age, beauty, price, and the laundry list of performed sex acts. No, on that night, I did not even pull a girl from MIxx, and so this potentially is of little-to-no interest for you, my faithful readers.
But after sitting on it for these last few weeks, I decided to post it anyway. Two reasons:
1. Negative results are important. Too often, once you have sifted out the endless inane chatter that goes on here, all you are left with are masses of reports on superbly successful encounters with WGs of LOS, and just a handful of failures. My night at Mixx might rightly be seen as a failure (though it wasn't in my mind), and so I think there is value in such reports.
2. I myself really enjoy reading reports that provide the unusual details of a venue. I like reading about the kinds of interactions people have, the weird characters they see, the odd behavior they have to endure, etc. It gives me a flavor for the place, and I consider it one of the best kinds of intel available here on ISG. Sadly, almost no one provides such reports any more, and I think that is a real loss. I won't claim to be the purveyor of such goods here, but at least I am trying.
So with that, please be warned that this is not a field report in the traditional sense. No women were fucked in the making of this report. But plenty was observed, and here are those observations. Make of them what you will.
[B]Executive Summary[/B]
You know me, my friends. You know my penchant for my eminently detailed write-ups. Indeed, many of you detest this. [I]Does he understand what bullet points are? Cant he just tell us what happened, instead of hogging bandwidth like this? [/I] Well, to mollify that sentiment, here is a summary of what happened three Mondays ago. You can decide if you want to read the rest or not.
1. Picked myself up after the shock to the system that was Ya of Rainbow 3.
2. Went to Mixx, around 1 am.
3. Saw lots and lots of lovelies, many of whom were very BFable.
4. Got harassed by one in particular, who just would not go away.
5. Mixx closed unexpectedly.
6. Had a brief, but interesting discussion (no sex) with a LB.
7. Went back to the hotel and slept like a baby.
Now, this sounds boring, but in fact, qualitatively, the evening was very, very interesting.
The experience I had with Ya in Rainbow 3, the content of my previous field report a good three weeks ago, was simply not of my regular ilk. It was jarring, and off-putting, but such things happen. After that experience, I needed to pick myself up and get back out there. So I had drained my balls with her by around 10:30 pm, and I was interested in scoping out Mixx. From various reports, including Tomasb and Haven123, it sounded like an interesting location, so I wanted to put it to the Gaze of Kumbu test. Moreover, as upsetting as the Ya thing had been, the sex was truly excellent, and so I was not feeling any pressure to hook up tonight. No, tonight was about observation; letting the anthropologist do his thing. The only way I would pull someone was if she was just perfect, and that is a long shot, it must be said.
[B]Arrival and Early Thoughts[/B]
I took a taxi down to Mixx at 1 am or so. No fuss, dropped off with a meter charge, and I think the driver got a kick back (although that is usually for groups of two or more). My taxi arrived moments after the taxi carrying two fine young specimens, and I followed them down the steps, through the hallway and to the entrance of the club to pay. As we walked, the young one kept peering back at me trying to figure me out. I smiled at her and she giggled a little. Not really my type: she had torn off shorts, and a tank top of some kind, with a baseball cap on backwards, and high top sneakers. Like she was trying to go for the Fresh Prince look. Not terribly attractive to me, though perhaps attractive to those 25 years my junior.
Paid the 250 baht, entered, and the first thing I noticed was that it was fucking freezing cold in there. I mean, it was like walking into a meat locker at a high end New York restaurant. Brrr.
The second thing I noticed was that the lighting was actually really good. It was dim, so nice and cozy, but bright enough to be able to see people properly. That put it a notch above Climax, IMHO, in that there was no issue in figuring out exactly what kind of figure a girl has before you take her. Sometimes in Climax, when a girl is at a table, her legs and ass may be hidden by the table, and people in front of her, but also by the dim lighting. So you have to either figure out a way to move her so you can see properly, or you take your chances. I now avoid those girls entirely, which takes out half the girls in there. But not here: the lighting is excellent.
In retrospect, I realized that I only went to one of the two halves of Mixx that night. But I'm ok with that, because I prefer the non-smoking side of things. And that is where I was (I think) because I did not see anyone smoking there. That added to the quality of view, and the quality of air. But it was still freezing cold.
Assuming the dance floor is a circular clock, you walk in at 6 o'clock, with the DJ on the other side of the dance floor, at midnight. Off to the right, from 1 o'clock to 5 o'clock, is an elevated seating area, with perhaps 6-7 tables, and off to the left at 7 o'clock is the bar. At 10 o'clock and 11 o'clock is a VIP lounge area with some plush couches and tables. This was cordoned off when I was there. I suppose no high rollers were around that night. And In between, around 8 o'clock to 9 o'clock, are some bistro-style tables and tall chairs, as well as couches and tables to sit. All the tables and seats were taken, so I had to mill about trying to find a place to settle myself.
I walked through the crowd, which was no where near as crushed as Climax or Insomnia in Pattaya. I found the amount of talent there actually quite good, and so the lack of bodies was not a factor. As I walked through the people, the girls all looked and smiled. The first one I noticed was a white lady with big boobs (or a push up bra), sitting on a stool casting out her visual fishing line. It caught me for a moment, but I managed to wriggle free. She looked kind of latina, or perhaps Uzbeki, so I'm not sure if she is one of the Colombians that Tomasb speaks of.
I went and stood near the VIP couches; an awkward place to stand, to be sure. You are out of the gaze of everyone, and you can't really see people all that well. I stood there for a few minutes, just adjusting myself to the little groups of people, and then I moved back closer to the entrance and stood right at the bar. This was an excellent place to stand, since it was right in the walkway, 10 feet from the entrance, ten feet from the dance floor, ten feet from the lounging couches (non VIP), right at the bar, and right in the walkway that people take to go to the toilets. So it was a thoroughfare, and in the middle of the club.
[B]The Medley of Mixx Players[/B]
Everyone could see me, and I could see everyone, and that's just how it should be. A few minutes later (literally, no more than 3 minutes after I got to this spot), I got a gleaming smile from a Thai lady standing in that nook near the door to my right. She was wearing a pink one piece dress, revealing a shapely, if slender, figure. She looked to be in her early thirties (which meant she was in her late thirties or early forties). The age thing did not faze me, but her face just wasn't that appealing. She had some sunken eyes, and her cheekbones were a little too prominent. In any case, I looked away from her after a few moments. But she kept moving around trying to get more central to my eye gaze, making it harder and harder for me to ignore. Nonetheless, I was determined to not get hooked up with her tonight. I hope she eventually [I]leaves me alone.[/I].
On the dance floor were a couple of dazzling girls. One of them was wearing a blue skirt and a white shirt, while her friend, the true stunner between the two, was wearing jeans and a dark blouse. The stunner stood out from the crowd for two reasons. First, she was pretty. Her face had very sharp, angular features, which gave off the air of petulance. Moreover, her hair was cut into a pixie style, which is unusual in Thailand, and I dig it. Secondly, she was a serious dancer. She was going all out, no limits, going for broke. She was in a zone, and her friend was just trying to keep up. There's something attractive about that kind of confidence. Or perhaps it is indifference. But regardless, she was clueless about the eyes that were upon her from all locations in the club, and she was just letting 'er rip. I suspect she was not here on P4 P work tonight, since later that night I saw her sitting at a table on the elevated seating area and she was just knocking down the whiskeys.
Meanwhile, sunken-eyes lady darts into my eye sight, looks at me, and gives of a massive giggle and skittles around like she just saw Justin Bieber. Oh dear, terribly forced, horribly fake excitement, don't you just hate it? But I couldn't just let her hang, so I lifted my chin a little, smiled ever so slightly, and she trotted back to her little nook, satisfied for now. Oh please, [I]leave me alone.[/I].
Sitting at a table near the dance floor was a beauty in a white dress. She was clearly mid-thirties (and this time I think she was genuinely mid-thirties), but she was built like a carefully designed sports car. Her legs were shapely and fit, her ass was pert, round and bouncy, her waist was very obviously slim and fatless, and her breasts were probably supported by a push-up contraption of some sort. But she was definitely Kumbu-worthy, and I decided to keep tabs on her.
A few minutes later, a friend joined her: a similarly aged and similarly built beauty wearing jeans and a navy t-shirt. Together they were scoping out every white male in the building, of which I am not one. And so I did not get any love from them, save one final wistful glance at the end of the evening when it was too late for anyone. More on that later.
And again, the sunken-eyes lady intrudes into my observations. She comes close to me, almost brushing my right elbow, and pretends to be doing something with the bar lady. She then turns to me and just stares. I was scrupulously not looking at her, I mean every ounce of energy was focused on not looking at her or showing the least bit of attention. But she was standing right next to me, literally inches from my elbow, looking right at me, just waiting for me to look ever so slightly rightward, and she would pounce. But no, I would not relent. I looked off into the distance. I found a spot all the way in the far corner of the nightclub and fixated on it. I imagined there were naked pixies coming out of some massive human orifice and they were dancing in elaborate patterns in that corner. Wow, what a wonder! I must concentrate on those pixies, there may be something to learn there. But she would not relent. She just stood there, looking at me. Oh please, [I]just leave me alone![/I].
So I finally turn slightly towards her, more to see if she really is looking at me, or just in my direction and past me to some other object. But nope, she was looking right at me, and smiling broadly! I looked away immediately, and I could sense her smiling more broadly. Oh lord, when will it end?! Please just [I] leave me alone.[/I].
After a full three minutes (think about that: three minutes of a woman standing next to you staring at you! She took a few steps back into the nook, and the pressure lifted.
[B]The Most Gorgeous Woman in SE Asia, and Poor Toby[/B]
Off to my left was a really interesting situation. The three most amazing ladies in the whole club were seated on a couch just to my left. All three were in their early twenties, all three were wearing one-piece body-conforming dresses, all three had themselves made up to the max, and all three were simply gorgeous. They were model type girls, all three, and they knew it. They were getting attention from all corners, but all advances were bouncing off them. I wondered why that was.
A few minutes later I got my answer. There was a young European looking dude, let's call him Tobias. Now, Toby was young, perhaps in his early-mid twenties, and dressed as well as an early-twenties can dress. He was wearing white pants (sorry, only Europeans can pull that off), a brownish checkered short-sleeve buttoned shirt (untucked, remarkably un-European), and loafers with no socks. His gently ruffled brown hair lent a look of eagerness and vulnerability that I thought would probably go over well with your typical WG, in that, he would be the kind to splurge the cash if properly coaxed.
So the three girls were sitting at a table with their drinks when this unconfident bloke made eye contact with one of the girls. Slowly, the eye contact increased, as I watched them (with envy, it must be said) reel him in. Eventually, he wandered over to them, they grabbed him and the giggling and uncomfortable small talk began. Soon they were whisked away from the table in the back to a couch next to the dance floor, and a huge bottle of whiskey arrived, along with multiple glasses and lots and lots of ice. The whiskey and mixers started to flow and the girls were getting into it.
Over the course of the next hour, roughly half the bottle of whiskey was consumed, and lots of giggling was had. But after a while, one of the girls (the second hottest one amongst the three) peeled off and started chatting up some other guy. And after another 10 minutes or so, the third hottest girl peeled off too, leaving just the hottest girl in the lot. I kept glancing over because I thought the hottest girl was singularly beautiful, but also because I wanted to see how this proceeded.
As I kept glancing over, my eyes locked with her eyes for a moment, and to my surprise, she smiled at me. Huh? She just caught herself a prize pick, why is she mixing it up with me?
This continued for another 30 minutes or so, while I interacted with numerous other girls in a similar fashion. So let me tell you what happened in those other interactions, and I'll return to this most-interesting of situations shortly.
[B]The Rest of the Cast[/B]
I noticed an Indian girl there, clearly working P4 P. She was wearing a white and pink dress, and was perhaps in her late twenties. She was rather pretty, though not my type. But she saw me and decided I was her type. She set herself up right next to me and started to dance her little tushy off. I mean she was going at it, but not directly propositioning me. So for 10 minutes I had to try to ignore her. Finally she did the little drink-clink, which I obliged, but I gave her the brush off thereafter. It took a good 20 minutes for her to get the hint that I was not interested. As far as I could tell, she was the only Indian there, but she was clearly Indian (of some kind).
Secondly, there was a girl with these rather odd colored eyes. They must have been contacts, but they gave her a definite celine allure. She looked like she was a mix between Thai and some other ethnicity, and I figured she must have been the girl who quoted Tomasb the 6000 baht figure. She was striking, too: very well put together. Her hair was well done, her makeup was impeccable, and from what I could tell, she had a decent figure. But the attention she was giving me was too direct. She kept walking past me, looking directly at me, and when my eyes met hers, she would break into a big smile. And walk past. This was a little too aggressive for me, and my Kumbu sense started to go off. I try to avoid the overly professional ones, since that usually leads to a somewhat cold encounter. I want to get someone who is semi-professional, and that usually comes with a little less direct procurement.
So I smiled back at her, but never made an advance on her, despite her 4-5 circles past my location.
A guy walked in who ended up entertaining me for a little while. He was a tall, blonde, good looking guy. He had attractive features, was wearing a polo shirt and khakis, and was carrying a shoulder-messenger bag for some reason. I hated him immediately, since he was in his early thirties and good looking, and so I thought he would suck all my oxygen out of the room. And as predicted, as soon as he walked in, all heads turned away from me and landed right on his boyish features. He walked towards the bar and passed the first pretty girl there, who looked at him, and he did his thing.
His thing was to smile a lot. But it wasn't just smiling. What he did was when a woman looked at him, he would cock his head to the side, open his eyes wide, and break into a huge, unrestricted smile. It was like in his head he was saying, "Aaaw shucks. . . Hi theeeeeeere". I saw this and chuckled a little, not sure why.
Then he walked over to the next lady, he stopped and he did the exact same thing. He cocked his head again, opened his eyes wide, smiled broadly, held that pose for a moment, and then walked on to the next girl. Hmm, odd. And as he walked through the club, stopping at every pretty girl and giving them this treatment, I saw their response to him slowly change. It went from:
"Oh Hello, here comes a most eligible, handsome, well-dressed, youngish white man" to.
"Oh Hello, here comes a most. . . Oh. . . What is he doing?
So this pretty boy was basically shooting himself in the foot with his boyish puppy dog smile. It was endearing, in a creepy kind of way, but it just wasn't working. It was almost as if someone had told him that in order to create chemistry, he should look a girl in the eyes and smile. And he was doing this robotically with every human with a pussy he encountered. It was downright creepy.
But it made me happy to see him fail. I know, I know, that's a terrible thing to say about another monger, but he was in a sense my rival, and so there was a certain amount of schadenfreude involved here.
Meanwhile, one of the Colombians walked past me with her boobs pointing up at the ceiling somehow. She walked past like she was in an army marching band, hands swinging, legs marching, looking off to the side at me, smiling in a fixed, fake way, trying to get some kind of reaction. It was so weird standing there being propositioned so blatantly and so clumsily by girl after girl. It was down right off-putting to me.
[B]Returning to the Saga of Toby[/B]
Ok, back to the hottest girl and her new-found friend Tobias. They were now drinking it up hot and heavy, but there was no physical touching [B] at all[/B] going on. He was trying to cozy up to her, but she kept moving about to avoid his touch. This was a definite bad sign, but poor Toby was not catching on to it. And even more unnerving was the fact that this super hot girl kept looking over to me and smiling. Huh? Why would she do that? Why would she jeopardize a perfectly good mark in Toby for an uncertain shot at old Kumbu? I mean, I was definitely older than Toby (he being in his mid-twenties, me a good two decades his senior), he was ethnically purer than I, with me being ethnically dubious at best. He had already splurged thousands on the girl and her two friends, while I was standing pat with my single Heineken. So it made no sense.
Anyway, this continued for a good half hour, with her drinking Toby's liquor, but playing smilesies with old Kumbu from afar. Then at around 2:45 am, she and her friends start to pack up. A lost look of bewilderment suddenly crosses Toby's face, as he clearly was not consulted before this move began. I could see him stuttering his words a little as he asked the hot chick what was happening. She looked him in the eyes, touched him on his arm (the first physical contact of the night, as far as I am aware), and leaned in to whisper something to him. And here's the kicker: while she whispered into his ear, she was looking over slyly to me, with a smile on her face. WTF?!
A moment later, she grabbed her handbag, her two friends lead the way, and they walked away from Toby, leaving him holding a half-drunk glass of whiskey in one hand and his semi-limp dick in the other. His face was pouty and sad, like a puppy dog that had been left at home alone. He was now facing the fact that he had been fleeced by three top-level working girls, and he had nothing to show for it except a wet patch on his crotch.
As the super hot girl walked past me, my eyes fixed on her exquisitely beautiful face, she smiled at me and walked on. But a step past me, she stopped, turned around, and came back to me. She came up close to me, and I felt the warmth of her body, the heat of that pussy beneath that tight, tight dress. My heart was pounding at a million beats per minute: what the fuck is going on? Why is she approaching me?! OMG, she is so goddam hot, little Kumbu is about to have an aneurysm!
She steps close to me and says "so what you think?
Umm. . . What do I think? What do I THINK?
I think I want to fuck you, what else could I think?
What did she mean by "what do you think?" What do I think about her beauty? What do I think about going with her tonight? What do I think about Mixx? What?
Somehow, without missing a beat, I smiled at her, and said something that would fit all those possible questions. I said "What do I think? [B]Fantastic![/B]".
She smiled at this, turned toward the door, tossed her hair back and strutted out with her nose pointing to the ceiling, victorious in every way.
Through my peripheral vision, I could see Toby glaring at me, like he figured out something was afoot. And slowly, I realized what had been happening this whole time.
All those glances she was giving me, all those sly smiles, and the coy looks I was getting. . . They had nothing to do with what I thought. They were not glances of proposition. They were not her trying to get me to take her for the night. They were not her playing a double-game with me and Toby. No, that was not what was happening.
Rather, she was there to play Toby. That was her endgame. She and her friends were not WGs in our sense, but WGs in the sense that they were there to get some free drinks, get whatever other freebies the naive falang in BKK were willing to throw their way, and have some fun. And during this hustle, she noticed me looking at her very intently. And in her mind, she realized that I had figured out her game. Because the only thing in her mind was to hustle Toby, she was not even thinking about going with anyone that night. So when I was looking at her, she was not thinking that I wanted to pay her 2500 baht for the privilege of ramming my tongue into her pussy, but that I had sussed her game, and that I was watching with admiration to see how it would play out. Then when it all ended, she came up to me to ask what I thought of how she played her cards. I said 'fantastic', and that pleased her. So she went off into the night, victorious in every way.
As I figured this out, I did not know how to feel. I mean, this girl seemed like a WG, but she was a regular girl just here for some fun with her friends. She managed to find a schlub to pay for her drinks and to give her some entertainment, but I don't think she was going to do anything with him. Nor me, for that matter. So this is a warning to anyone who thinks that all girls in Mixx or other clubs are up for sale. I don't believe they are. IMHO, most girls are, but not all. A few years ago, when I was showing my first-time visitor buddy around BKK, I took him to Climax. I told him to find a girl with whom he has long-distance chemistry, and then make his move accordingly. But instead, he looked for the hottest girl in the club, and decided he wanted her. So he approached her, he worked her, he tried his best, but she was just not interested. She was there with her friends, they were drinking and dancing, and she was just not there for P4 P. He was utterly confused, and I told him to forget it. But he did not. Instead, he went back to her and just flat out offered her money. He said "I'll give you 5000 baht to go with me to my hotel room". Needless to say, it did not work.
[B]The End of the Road[/B]
As I pondered this issue, suddenly, the music stopped. The dancing continued for a moment, and then slowed in a confused and mildly distressed manner. And then the lights came on. Bright, cold, white light, suddenly illuminated the people in Mixx, and it was like a veil had been lifted. Suddenly, I could see all the girls in regular light, and they seemed utterly lost by this. It was like someone called bullshit on the fantasy, and suddenly they were no longer alluring seductresses, but regular women struggling to make a living.
It was not pleasant at all, I have to say, but it was very amusing. The sports-car beauty in the white blouse suddenly aged 5 years and 30 pounds, the sunken-eyes girl who would not leave me alone suddenly lost 20 pounds and took on the look of a famine-striken 50 year old. The crazy pixie-haired dancer knocking back whiskeys, well, she was passed out on the couch and still looked fucking hot.
So it turns out Mixx closes at 3 am. I had no idea, I thought we had until 5-6 am. This early closing was a surprise to some, but not to most. I stood there a little confused, and the DJ said something about 'sorry, we're closed now', and then people started to wander out. As I walked out, the girl with the sunken eyes and pink dress made one last move for me, brushing my elbow with her fingers as I passed her, but I ignored her and walked on.
I was not in any mood to drop money for something I was not that into. I had already gotten off earlier in the evening, and so there was no desperation in my body, and I just wanted to go back to my hotel and sleep. So I walked out, whispering under my breath "oh please just leave me alone".
I noticed girl after girl hurrying into taxis, on their way to Climax or some other nightclub no doubt. So this suggests to me that if you are at Climax before 3 am, you will witness a wave of new talent at around 3:30-4 am, as the rejects from Mixx stream in. This works very well for Climax I believe, which only cements it as the top FL nightclub in my mind (for now).
[B]Taxi Shenanigans[/B]
I walked out and got accosted by taxi guy after taxi guy. I told them I wanted to go back to the Landmark, and they offered me a ride for 400 baht. I said no, meter please, and they kept offering me a 400 baht ride. I think it must have been three consecutive taxi guys who had the same price, until the fourth who dropped his price to 300 baht. Fuck them, I told them I would rather walk.
As I walked, I flagged down a regular taxi, and he also refused the meter, but said he would go for 100 baht. Crap, it's not a lot of money, but it's the principle. But at 3:20 am, tired, ready to sleep, what's the 60 baht difference? Plus, this guy is out in the dead of night trying to make a living, so why not? So 100 baht it was, he dropped me off on the other side of Suk, near the corner of soi 3.
[B]The Girls of Suk[/B]
I got out and started the walk up that far side of Suk, and I was stopped by a big black lady (BBL). She stood right in front of me and here's how the interaction went:
BBL: Hello honey, let's go have a good time.
Kumbu: Oh nooooo, thank you, but nooooo.
BBL: No? Why not? I can show you a very good time.
Kumbu: I'm sure you can, but no thank you.
(BBL, grabs Kumbu's balls very gently).
Kumbu: eeek!
BBL: Ready for a good time now?
(Kumbu gently removes balls from BB vice).
Kumbu: Umm, no, thank you really, but no.
BBL: where are you from, you sweet thing?
Kumbu: Umm, America.
BBL: America? Oh I KNOW we are going to have a good time now!
Kumbu: where are you from?
BBL: Kenya. We know how to have a good time in Kenya, let's go now, we will have a rrrreally good time.
(I considered saying, "hujambo sista", something learned from my Kenyan-Somali co-worker, but did not wish to create any more reason for her to stick to me).
Kumbu: no, sorry, I am not interested. Good luck though, mmkay.
BBL: Why not? There is NO reason not to, let's do it darling!
Kumbu: No, thanks, but no.
BBL: Why not? There is [U]no reason![/U].
Kumbu: Umm, I don't have any money. That's why.
And suddenly she was gone from sight; within seconds, she disappeared.
I was walking towards soi 11, and perhaps beyond, looking for that very cute SW I had seen a week earlier. I know the chances are very slim, but at worst, I would get to see what was on offer. As I walked, a lady boy or two walked past me and I heard the vague 'I want to go widjoo', but there was nothing terribly energetic about their efforts.
But then, as I passed the now-closed Vasu money exchanger, I walked towards a lady boy who was giving me some serious eye. You see, Kumbu has a somewhat feminine gait, and this seems to attract the attention of the more predatory lady boys. This one thought she knew her prey very well, and assumed there was a chance. Little did she know that when it comes to pussy, old Kumbu is a strict originalist. I am not at all interested in reconstructed labia majora, or renovated uteral tracts or new-fangled designer clitora. No, only the real deal is good enough for Kumbu.
But she approaches me and creaky-voices "I want to go widjoooooooo". Kumbu did not make eye contact and said "No, thank you. " And she stepped in front of me and said again, more forcefully, "Wait, I want to go widjooo". I stepped to the side to try to get past her and said, politely and without any malice, "No, thank you, I'm not interested. ".
And at this point, something interesting happened. She threw up her arms and let out a sigh of exasperation, and said "But. . . But. . . I am [B]pretty[/B] . . . I [B]AM[/B] pretty. . . ".
I stopped, looked her in the eyes, and for the first time, I saw the human in the body of one of these tortured, almost grotesque male-female bodies. I saw a complex person, one with conflicts and internal strife, and most of all, I saw genuine anguish. She was truly distressed, and I was not sure why. It could have been that she was hopped up on some meth or something. Or it could have been that she just got dumped by her Japanese boyfriend. Or, in my opinion the most likely reason: she was tired of being viewed as a freaky male impersonator who would never be beautiful in the eyes of regular, heterosexual men.
I stopped, placed my hands on each of her shoulders, and felt tension roar through her shoulders into my hands. I looked her straight in the eyes and said "Honey, you are fucking gorgeous. I can see that. You don't need to prove that to anyone. But I am not the man for you. I am not going with you, and you need to let me pass. ".
A pause ensued, perhaps as she tried to translate my words into Thai, I don't know. But after a moment, I felt the stress in her shoulders subside, and she exhaled slowly. Her shoulders slumped slightly, her lips curled downward as if in resignation, and her eyes softened ever so slightly. Her body moved almost unnoticeably to the side, indicating I could move along. I lingered a moment longer than I needed to, and went on my way.
I walked up past Soi 11, and then on to the hotel Sofitel, just looking to see what kind of talent was available. I still had the encounter with the lady boy fresh in my mind, and I was playing it over and over in my mind. At that hour, now probably close to 3:45 am, there was relatively little available. I had been on that exact stretch a week earlier at around 1:30 am, and things had been much livelier, with perhaps a dozen quality SWs available that night. In any case, I was not really interested in SWs that night, or any pussy to be honest, so I don't really know why I was walking the streets. So I crossed the street and made my way back to the Landmark, where I slept like a fucking baby until 11 am the next day.
[B]Epilogue[/B]
I was planning on filing one final report of my last encounter, but I think I will skip it. It was mostly repetitive for you folks, even though it was a revelation for me. But the long and short of it was that I had yet another night with the Diamond girl from Climax, and it was the best sex of the entire trip. But that sentence encapsulates the essence of that encounter, so I will leave it at that.
So here I am, at my computer in the good old US of A, after a marvelous 10 days in BKK and Pattaya. I had some seriously stupendously good nights with some sweet, sexy little things. I had a couple of pretty rough nights too, but all in all, the trip was a raging success. I ended so many of those nights exhausted, sweating profusely, gasping for air, between the breasts of a beautiful woman, muttering the words, "I DO still exist; I DO still exist". I have no idea why that mantra emanated from within me so regularly and with so little explanation, but that's what happened. And sitting here, looking at my computer, with the mild reflection of my face in the glossy screen, I am left with that creeping, gnawing suspicion. I think I exist. . . But do I really?
The pen is mightier than the sword. Unless of course Vitamin V is involved!
[QUOTE=Kumbu;1906416]This now is a report on a night at Mixx three Mondays ago. I was not actually planning on posting this, since the scoreline on this report is essentially nil. That is, I don't report on any of the vital statistics that are so important to the readers of this forum: age, beauty, price, and the laundry list of performed sex acts. No, on that night, I did not even pull a girl from MIxx, and so this potentially is of little-to-no interest for you, my faithful readers.
But after sitting on it for these last few weeks, I decided to post it anyway. [/QUOTE]IMHO, I wouldn't waste a lot of time worrying if some people don't want to read what you write. If it is substantially factual and fits into the TOP that Jackson has set forth, then you have as much right to post it as anyone else. I find that it takes very little time to scroll pasts those individuals that I don't want to waste my time reading what they have to say.
For me the fact that you are so meticulous in your reporting is quite refreshing and yes I am sure all of us that have been at this for a while, can appreciate the evenings that don't follow our master plan. It does make those that do all the more pleasing.
But hey, my opinion is of no more importance than the passing of gas in a whirlwind.
I enjoyed your escapades. I suspect that our tactics are quite similar.
Preach on my brother!!
