Exotica and the Quixotica
This is part 2 of the 2 part description of Sunday night. Part 1 ended with nothing much: I left Bluey and Bacarra, made my way back to the hotel, got further delayed and frustrated. Here now is a report on how later that night, I uncovered an exotic gem in none other than the Nana Hotel parking lot. It was a very surprising event, which in many ways was far too idealistic for me to believe. But this is how it occurred. I need tp preface this report by stipulating that the details of this report are 100% true, I. E, the fee she requested, the location of te pickup, and the details of her background. This is because they go against the general tenor of reports lately out of BKK regarding SWs, and indeed against my own recent experience. The point is that gems are still to be had, albeit in rare frequency.
After my work was done in the hotel room, I had to find me some luvin'. I wasn't about to go back to NEP, and was a little concerned about going to Climax, so I decided to walk the streets in search of a SW, and if that failed, then I would go to Climax as a backup. So I walked down towards NEP, and on the way I did not see anything I liked. As I approached the soi 4 intersection, however, I saw a girl getting ready to cross the street going towards NEP, and sped up to get a better look. She was slim, tall, with long wavy black hair. She was wearing a two piece skirt and blouse, blue, with the skirt being one of those bell-shaped skirts (kind of conservative). But her legs were shapely, and as anyone who has read any of my reports knows, that's all that matters. Her face was quite pretty, and she looked to be in her late twenties. She got to the other side and I was looking for a way to get her attention. She ended up walking all the way past NEP, crossed the street, and then stopped near that 7-11 to make a call. So I lingered nearby, conspicuously watching her every move.
During her call she noticed me, then looked away and completed her call. When she was done, she looked again, and inched closer to me to see if I was interested. I said hello, she said hello, I said where you going, she said I go 7-11, but you follow me, what you want? I said I like how you walk, can you come with me to talk a little? She said only talk? I smiled and said maybe more. She asked, you want ST or LT, and I said how much ST? She paused, looked me over, and said 3000b. I said that was high, why so high? She said that's a good price, and she will take good care of me. I said I can do 2000b, but no more. She walked away. Wow, she was not even slightly interested. She did not ask where I was from, or my name, or where my hotel was: I think she took a look at me, did not like what I look like, and decided to high ball me just to get rid of me. Ok, I can deal with that.
I turned back around and walked through to the Nana Hotel parking lot to see what was on display, and there were perhaps a dozen non-LB options there. Very quickly I zeroed in on one girl wearing a short yellow dress. The dress was not over-the-top sexy, but short and revealing. Her legs were a little more crooked than I like (I. E, too many juts and bumps around the knee area) , but certainly something able to proffer pleasure. I could not discern her backside or breasts, and her face was not classic beauty, but cute and attractive. She had her hair tied back, tight, in a little bun, with bangs hanging down to just above her eyes. This gave her a simple, attractive, young look. She must have been in her early-mid twenties, with skin the color of hot chocolate, so a definite Isaan girl, or so I thought. She had rather odd facial features though. Her cheek bones were prominent, but not in the sideways manner that you see with the so-called 'flat faced Thais'. Her nose, too, was sharp, and most non-Thai in appearance. Implant? No, it was not bulky enough. The closest I can think of to describe it is it looked like an Ethiopian or Somali nose, if you're familiar with that shape. Very unusual for a Thai WG, in my experience.
I walked right past her at first, checking her out, ever so slowly, to gauge her reaction. She looked at me sideways, but she looked, and did not reach out to say 'where you goooo? ' Ok, a luke warm reception it was. So I carried on checking out the rest of the talent (the word 'dregs' kept coming to mind) , and then circled back in for the pick of the litter. As I approached, some fat Italian dude had appeared and was propositioning her. He had wispy brown hair, was unshaven, around my height, but perhaps 100 pounds heavier. He was wearing a loud yellow t-shirt, with green cut-off capri pants, with large Berkenstock-type shoes. He looked like a less than hygienic specimen. I, on the other hand, offered ambiguous ethnic sourcing, but was clean, well shaven and well dressed. She was aware of my interests, and I was banking on her rejecting the guy in favor of me. So I laid back and watched from a distance.
The Italian was, true to stereotype, full of gesticulatory exuberance. They seemed to be discussing the politics of a center-left government more than the negotiation for access to her sweet bits for financial renumeration. And I was getting uneasy. This was not going well: this dude was going to sneak away with my pretty little thing, and I was not terribly happy about that. So I decided to try to make things a little clearer in the girl's mind. She probably did not know whether I would be returning or not, so I stepped closer to them, and into her line of sight, and made purposeful eye contact. This was hard to do because the damned LBs were everywhere and they were nipping at my elbows with their high-pitched, creaky 'helloooooo sssssir's. I had to focus, ignore these pests, and obtain the prize that is rightly mine. Finally, she saw me and our eyes locked for a moment. She then looked back at the Italian guy and you could see the cogs turning.
A few moments later, the Italian trudges off still gesticulating to himself, but seemingly perfectly happy. She looks over my way as if to say 'your move now, sailor. ' So I moved in. I said hello, she said hello, and she asked where I am from, and I said America, and she nodded approvingly. She asked where I am going, I said for a drink, you want to come? She said sure, after drink what we do? I said we go to my hotel and you take care me. She says ok, you want short time or long time? I say how much? She pauses, probably calculating the opportunity cost, the pain in the ankles of another hour in that spot, and the likelihood of getting someone substantially better (cleaner / more generous) than me.
She looks at me, and quietly says 1000b ST. Before I had time to even think it through, I agreed, nodding her in the direction of Suk. That's a good price, for more goods than I thought I would get tonight, so fuck yeah, let's go baby. She asks where I stay, and I told her the Aloft Hotel, and she pulls out her phone (an old clunker, by the way, not an iPhone) and calls someone. I asked who she called, and she said she has a taxi friend who was set to drive her and her customer to the hotel, and then he would wait for her until we are done. Maybe a pimp, or a boyfriend, or just a good business relationship, I don't know. But she said she canceled it with him since she does not need it: soi 11 is very close. That kind of made me feel better, actually.
A couple of notes, one about you, the readers, and the second about this taxi thing. First, I think we need to address the 1000b fee. This is, on my reading of this forum, a very low price, even for a SW. I think there are numerous reasons for why I got quoted this price, but suffice it to say that this is very much a YMMV issue. Just like #81 in R3 who couldn't give fuck-all about me and would probably quote 5000b for ST with me, and the girl I just got bounced by who would not budge from her initial 3000b quote, this girl was willing to go with me for this low price. All are cases of YMMV, but on opposite ends of the spectrum. I had a very similar experience with a Bacarra gogo girl a few nights later, and in that report I make a bigger point of this, so stay tuned. Second, the taxi thing, I believe, was not actually a regular deal that she had. I think the taxi guy was waiting for her on this occasion and this occasion only. Read below to see why.
So we walk up soi 11, which is a bit of a slog, but as we walked we talked. She was remarkably eloquent and articulate in English. She had an accent which I could detect but not place, so I asked her where she was from, and she said the northwest. I said where, and she said something, not sure what, but she then explained that she is from one of the hill tribes. Huh. That explains her exotic features. I couldn't understand which hill tribe, or which region in particular, nor the reasons for her being a WG, so that's all I have on that front. But that was a clue that this was no ordinary, ho-hum SW I had encountered tonight.
We get to the hotel (notice, we never went for a drink) , and again, we walk through the lobby unnoticed whatsoever. In the room, I offer her a drink, which she accepts (water, a good sign). We sit and talk for a few minutes while she sips her water and judges Kumbu. I am somewhat non-threatening: 5'10", brownish skin, might be confused for some variant of Thai, and so some girls feel comfortable with me. Others hate that appearance because they have sworn off Thai men forever, so it is a double-edged sword. But this girl definitely chilled with me, and we started talking about her village, her friends, her years as a bus station attendant, etc.
Finally we got to a silence in the conversation, and the time was something like 2am. Shit, I had to be up at 6am the next day for the longest work day of my 8 days here, what am I doing to myself? But she looks down at her feet and murmurs something softly. I leaned in and asked what. She said it again, but I still could not make it out, and then after another pregnant pause, she says it louder and more softly. She says 'I never be with customer before. You first time. '
Shit on my father's balls.
I did not need this at this point. Hell, I turned down the barely-pubescent girl at R1 earlier tonight precisely because I did not want to be the initiator for a newbie. But for once, I put myself aside for a moment and looked at her. She was fucking trembling. Her fingers were wringing themselves into spaghetti, and she was chewing her lower lip rawer than a freshly slaughtered goat. I looked at her, a lump arose in my throat, and I felt hollowness within me for some reason. On the one hand, this girl has chosen to get into the business, and so needs to deal with all the brutes that are out there. In the grand scheme of things, I am not the most brutish individual she will encounter, so that's (I suppose) the good news. But on the other hand, I imagined the next time she is with someone who wants something unusual (because we all do). Something that she might find distasteful, or even painful, and I looked at her trembling fingers and the gooseskin on her upper arms, and I just knew this girl was not made out for this line of work. She did not have it in her. It was like watching the gazelle run from the lion, dart this way and that, working at maximum capacity to try to save its own life. But as you watch the slow motion movements on the screen, you see the inevitability of that carotid artery eventually being met by fangs. And there's nothing anyone can do about it, this is just the way the world works.
All this happened in a span of 3 seconds, as we sat quietly on the couch in my room. She then jumped up and said 'shower! ' and walked off to take a shower. I sat there, on the verge of tears myself, wondering what kind of fucking crackpot I am. But as I regained some composure, I realized two important things. First, the heightened emotions and hyper-sensitivity I was feeling was very, very likely a result of my extreme fatigue. I mean, damn, it has been so long since I have had a good night's sleep, and the exertions I have put myself through are not even funny. So I guess it is normal to begin breaking down after a while. And second, I figured that this girl was in it for the money, and if money is what she needs, dammit, money I shall provide. What else could I do at this point? I couldn't turn her out, because she would eventually repeat with some other customer, be brutalized, and end her P4P career in tears. All that would be missing is Kumbu playing a positive part on her experience. So I decided to stick with it. And oh yeah, I WAS pretty horny.
She came out smelling all clean, and I ran in to take my shower. When I came out she was under the sheets watching tv. I got in next to her and we cuddled for a while. After a few minutes, she just suddenly turns over onto me and starts kissing my neck. It didn't feel right, it was forced. But I did not dissuade her. She kissed my neck, my shoulders, my chest, down to my belly, and was making for little Kumbu, and I then remembered Leggy from the night before, and I was not particularly in the mood for another savaging. So I pulled her up and over and I got on top of her. I reciprocated with the soft neck and shoulder kissing and for the first time I noticed her breasts. Goddam, they were ball-bustingly good. I mean, they were largish, perhaps a small C cup, but they were firm as hell, and shaped like breasts from heaven. Later, when she was sitting atop me, I would notice that they were a perfect bell shape, and fell in all the right directions in the right ways. But lying on her back, they fell off to the side, leaving me to cup them and lift them. And I just can't describe the phenomenal feeling they had in my hands. Firm, soft, hefty, and totally, totally real. Her nipples were a very light creme color, and they were tiny as hell. So I looked down at this bounty, shocked and surprised, and decided I needed to treat these jewels with the respect they deserve.
So I didn't kiss them. Yeah, that's right, I avoided them entirely. After my initial unrequited groping, I left them aside and kissed all around them, but not directly on them. I did not rub the nipples, or anything like that. The strategy was two-fold. First, with breasts like that, I am sure ever guy just digs in, and so that is likley what she expects of me. If I don't do that, however, it will increase her anticipation, and when I finally do stick my face and hands into those beauties, it will have a greater impact on her. That was my theory at least. And second, avoiding the breasts at first increased my own anticipation, and so when I finally dive in, it will be even better for me.
I kissed her around the breasts, then down to her belly, which was a little skinful, but firm enough, and then down to her hips. I kissed the hip bone on the left, then across the top of her pubic region to the right pubic bone, and when I made my gentle meandering way south, she tensed up. She put her hand on my chin and guided me away from her pussy. Too soon? I get that, and truth be told, I was not thrilled about doing DATY on a SW. So I kissed away from her pussy and down to her thighs, which were well textured and firm. I went down to her knees, which recall were a little jutty and bumpy (you know, the inside of the knee juts inside too much). I kissed that little jut on each knee, and then down to her calves, and I flipped her over to kiss her legs back up the other side. As I did so, she started getting nervous as I approached her ass. When I got to the base of her ass, she squirmed and tried turning over. I gently reassured her, but to no avail, and she turned over. So no Mission Accomplished for me tonight, sadly.
This was her first time, and I'm sure she was feeling very vulnerable, which I understood. But here's the problem. My Trojans are non-lubricated. If she does not allow me to get her wet, this ain't going to work. She was now on her back, so I worked my way up her belly to those monumental breasts, and again purposefully avoided all contact with them. I kissed right down the middle channel between her breasts, my ears grazing the soft, firm flesh, and up to her neck, where I began to explore the sensitivity of various regions. I discovered that she liked having air gently blown at the regions just beneath her ears. So I kissed from her ear lobe down the side of the neck, and then blew air gently at those same semi-moist spots all the way back. I did this a couple of times, and then repeated on the other side, and she was appreciating this. It was gentle, it was sensual, and it was warming her up.
I then went straight to her ear lobes, which just ignited her. She started groping my shoulders and moaning, and at first I was not sure if she liked it or if it was too intimate for her. But after a while, it was clear that this was doing the trick. Long story short: nuzzle, lick, blow, kiss, and eventually the men from Troy were ready to do battle.
I pull a Trojan out, rip it on, and I tried to insert little Kumbu, but couldn't. She tried to help, but together we could not figure this puzzle out. We tried for a full 60 seconds before we switched positions. She lay on her side, opened her legs and I could now see her pussy well. So I aim for the two lips, and penetrate ever so slightly, but then I hit a brick wall. I mean, I just could not get inside her. We tried again, but to no avail, and she giggled. I was not amused, so I asked her what was happening, and she said that I am too big. I seriously doubt that honey, unless you aperture is like f25, little Kumbu can squeeze into almost anything. Trust me, in my youth, I tried it all.
I tried to get her into doggie, but that wasn't going to work, so I flipped over and she straddled me and started fumbling with little Kumbu. He was a little dry still, meaning he had not picked up all of her moisture, and that was contributing to the difficulty, so I wriggled my hips a little to run him all over her pussy, getting the outside of the Trojan good and wet, and then we tried again. Once again, the head got in, but then I hit some kind of fleshy impediment. I've never experienced anything like this before, where I can get partially inside and then whammo, nothing. I was perhaps one inch into her, which was really not doing it because any back and forth and little Kumbu just popped right out.
Eventually little Kumbu managed to traverse the little barrier and I squeezed into her, somehow pointing slightly rightwards. It was almost as if her vagina was split into two, with a barrier in the middle (which is what I was bumping up against) , and when I got inside her, little Kumbu took the right path. And boy was it tight. I managed to get half way into her, and then she sat back down right on my balls so my dick was pointing downwards towards my feet while being inside her. She started to rock and it hurt. I mean, she was not trying to hurt me, but the pressure from her pubic bone right below the head, coupled with the friction from her pubic hair was kind of grating on little Kumbu, who for the second night in a row was taking a beating.
I opened my legs a little to reduce the pressure, and this helped a lot, and so now I could allow her to rock and sway as she pleased. She was leaning forward, and her breasts were swaying too and fro. They were gorgeous, gorgeous architectural wonders. I put my hands on her hips and slowly moved them up her side, inhaling all the way up, enjoying the supreme intoxication of the vision of her breasts and the softness of her skin on my fingers. I got to the bottom of her breasts and placed my hands beneath them, palms facing away from me, flat against her chest behind her breasts, and her breasts supported by the crook between my thumb and index finger.
I slowly lifted the breasts like this, and they were downright heavy. They had these little speckles on them, like chicken skin, but very mild, and it was driving me nuts! That was the most beautiful thing ever, and I wanted it in my mouth. But no, not yet, hold your horses Kumbu (and little Kumbu too). So I played with them indirectly this way for a while. I lifted them, let them fall, swayed them this way and that way, watched them jiggle, watched them bounce, and I could feel little Kumbu getting ready for his swan song.
So I pulled out. Little Kumbu popped up onto my belly, and she sat flush againt his underside. Oh my, that felt good. She then started gyrating, squashing little Kumbu between her pussy and my belly, and it was wonderful. At this point I lost my control and started to grope her breasts madly. I just went wild: I squashed them, poked them, pinched them, rubbed the nipples, squeezed them together, let them fall, lifted one, then the other, then the one again, etc. And finally, I lifted them together, squashed them together with the nipples within an inch of each other, and greedily stuck both nipples into my mouth at the same time (yes, her breasts allowed that). She let out a little cry, and I sucked heartily, my own spittle dripping everywhere in a mad frenzy of breast engorgement. I swished my tongue all around the double nipple sandwich I had prepared for myself, and squeezed with my hands in the meantime. It was breast indulgence the likes of which I have not had in years. This was a thousand times better than the fake boobies of Leggy from last night. These were real, these were large, and these were SPEC-tacular.
The fatigue must have been massive, because as the frenzy continued, I heard music in the background, obviously in my mind alone. It was a guitar song with a beat, with lyrics that stuck and a deep rough voice like no other. It was familiar, but I could not quite place it, but I knew it was a song from my past, and it would eventually surface.
A few moments later, I exploded and I grabbed her back and pushed my face between her breasts as I climaxed. She used her hands to push the breasts tight against my face, giving me a breast hug, if you will, and I spent myself in pleasure and energy, gasping for air in that tight breast embrace. I held that position for a good 2 minutes afterwards, breathing heavily, and gently kissing the side of her breast where my face was scrunched. As I sat there, breathing heavily, breasts all around my face, the delirium of fatigue and breast-overload overcoming me, I turned my face upwards slightly and I don't know why, but I whispered:
Girl you look so pretty to me,
Like it always did.
Like the Spanish city to me.
When we were kids.
She did not understand, but she smiled and held me tight and gently rocked me as I whispered the lyrics again. Relaxation washed across me as the sultry licks of Knopfler engulfed my semi-conscious mind, and the smell of semen from beneath and spittle from all around created a humid, protective womb for the slowly regressing Kumbu. This lasted several minutes before she eventually released me, showered, and dressed. I went to the hotel safe and pulled out 2000b and slipped it into her purse. I kissed her on the forehead and told her to be safe, and she left. I slept that night without showering, a strict no-no in Kumbu's book of hygienic etiquette, but I slept soundly for a full 3 hours, before I awoke for a long day at work.
