I miss annies. Bikini girls
I really miss Annies massage as it was my first massage in Bangkok like 20+ years ago but also because it was on the few day massage places that display girls in Bikinis so you can see exactly what you are getting.
Does anyone care to share any current medium sized massage places that display girls in Bikinis rather than the standard dress which can hide a lot baby damage etc. ?
Bangkok: Not as Safe as I Thought
On my every six months SE Asia sweat and sex extravaganza. Pretty good so far although, at least in BKK, it has just involved blowjobs, numerous blowjobs at numerous establishments. BBBJ is pretty much my favorite thing in life since I am still too chicken to try for BBFS and despite a whole cabinet full of half empty condom boxes I still haven't found one that doesn't wilt the willy about thirty seconds in the CFS. Frankly, even BBBJ's are no guarantee of success as after a half century of serious self abuse it's rapidly approaching the stage that only a hydraulically closing industrial robotic device can provide enough stimulation, so generally a hand assist is required, too often one of mine doing the job. For this I traveled thirty hours? On the brighter side, after half a century I still haven't gone blind. Robotics are really moving along, though. I'll just have to make sure the one I buy's controls are clearly marked "Squeeze" and "Cut", maybe with a padlock lockout on the latter.
But back to the present. I've been supporting Som's, Kasalong, and The Place Around The Corner Whose Name We Cannot Say (I wonder if that restriction will go away now that the ISG's credit card server is subject to change). Kasalong and Around the Corner have been unremarkable, and not really in a bad way, just really nothing to remark on. Veni, Vidi, Veni. Som's is a bit of a problem for me right now: There is a really chubby provider there, I believe about the most full-bodied provider I've ever had, who remembers me from previous visits. Yes, I could dodge her, though I generally take first in line and, let's face it, it is going to be her. A lot. No, my problem is that she provides the best blow job I've found in years. It is a bit of a dilemma: Normally one likes a certain amount of visual stimulation, and an average looker, when seen from the typical blowjob POV, can be imagined to be at least moderately hot. Somebody this large is REALLY a problem, and I generally have a pretty good imagination.
My other haunts have been the go-gos, primarily Soi Cowboy but with a couple of ventures to Nana.
I found two bars that I had somehow not visited. One, Crazy Cat, was a name change from one I hit long ago, maybe the Cocktail Club?. The other, though, was inexcusable: Somehow I had never realized the Lighthouse had dancers: I've always seen a bunch of aging farangs outside and assumed it was a standard outside bar. Holy crap, they had good music! If you are not a senior citizen YMMV. Dancers are okay, too, certainly not unfortunate to look at while rocking out to Deep Purple.
But it was bait and switch: I returned two days later and yes, they were still playing old music, but it was all easy listening. I felt like I was trapped in an elevator. More elevators should have chicks in bikinis.
Crazy Cat had some very cute girls but at least in the short time I was there they all seemed to be coyotes, though as discussed here that can be a vague term at times. Standard dancing but coyote outfits and, I believe, stockings. I would have gawked longer but out of nowhere a fifty nine year old woman sat down with me. All that eye candy and this is what I got? She didn't seem to be leaving in the near future so I tried to leave, only to be almost run over by a train of coyotes coming in for their set. I opened the curtain and POW! A set of tits in the face! I always sort of feared I'd get run over in Bangkok, but it turned out that it was not bad at all.
But things turned to the worse: I got physically assaulted a few nights ago. Okay, it wasn't a really bad assault, but I can embellish the crap out of anything, so here goes. I was walking down Soi Cowboy towards Asoke, trying to get back to my air conditioned apartment before heat exhaustion set in. The coyotes can be quite obnoxious, but I walk at about four miles an hour and just ignore them. They look elsewhere for targets, probably because I obviously have some place to be. I say "obviously" because of course everyone else is walking half or a quarter as fast, at best. I think a lot of guys discover their feminine side when walking there, dawdling along like a woman shopping versus the targeted male shopping technique. I do not, and like an Everclear drinker know where I'm going and am in a hurry to get there. This of course creates a real problem as I have to thread my way through the oozing punters and tourists plus the stationary bikini babes. One thing I've found is that since the bikinis are trying to corral people walking down the middle of the alley, they extend their lines way out from their bars, leaving a surprisingly open area behind their butts. By "open" I mean a lane just wider then I am, only occasionally punctuated by a bikini or some ass-wipe staring at a mobile phone.
I came across one of these bypass lanes somewhere around KISS and was off to the races. The bars were close on my right, the bikini butts were just inches away on my left, and the slot was closing. Tight slots are a good thing some times; this was not one of them. I was passing behind one bikini butt that was really trying to score some tourists, I believe, and was no doubt speaking at great lengths about how her bar and various parts of her body were far superior to the others' bars and body parts. She had a little plastic fan thing. It looked like a ping-pong paddle. And to make sure the tourists saw what an awesome bar she worked at she vigorously swung it back to point. And whacked its edge right into my face, particularly my nose, a nose that has really seen enough trauma already this year, what with its tip now being a former part of my forehead. It was quite a collision, possibly knocking the fan out of her hand. I didn't break stride and just walked on, later discreetly wiping my face to see if there was blood. There wasn't.
A missed opportunity: I actually thought about it at the time but was too pissed (I'm pretty much always a bit pissed walking here) to do it, but I should have stopped, grabbed my nose, still slightly asymmetrically swollen from the surgery, and turned to her, "My God! Look what you've done! Look at my nose! I'm horribly disfigured!
All that nose surgery money wasted: Might have gotten a free Coke or blow job.
Back to Som's for the Tissue Extravaganza
I returned to Som's last night having decided that going BIG was probably the best bet. I don't know if it was since she was not around. Maybe others have decided to go big as well and she is therefore not, as I had assumed, always close to the first in the queue. I ended up with another largish provider, but large in a different way. I can best describe it as "manly", but I do NOT think she was a ladyboy, just fairly tall and broad.
It came within a couple of minutes of being a disaster. Her technique, um, sucked, and not in the good way. Just bobbing and stroking with almost no attention to the boys down below. But what was worse was the tissue and towel issue. About every three minutes she would grab a new tissue to wipe her mouth with, and use a cool wet towel to again wipe down my privates. About halfway through she even got up to rinse and re-wet the towel at the sink.
Then there was the noise issue, or really almost non-issue. I was in the middle room on the first or second floor (depending on where you're from) and was sort of the meat in a fellatio sandwich. Action was hot and heavy in both the buns, one that may have been having FS. There was noise, but really not a lot compared to some previous visits when perhaps the Bavarian yodeling team was in town. No, both punters were awesome, keeping it down, barely whispering. Not so the providers who apparently don't come with a volume control. Still nothing new. But my provider blamed the frequent lowering of the flag on the noise, not apparently noticing that it really just occurred when she was doing the tissue-towel thing. Afterwards she kept talking about it, "Yes, whenever they noise, it go down!
With the exception of one or two yodeling competitions I've never really been angry during a blow job before. By the end I was actually swearing under my breath each time I heard the tissues being drawn. Great! Now we have to start from scratch again! To add to that there was the fear of going into overtime. A few years ago I got charged double for going over thirty minutes and I've become a bit of a watch watcher there now. I had to assist to beat the buzzer.
Sorry I didn't get her name, but if some borderline manly provider there grabs you you can either run or, like some of us have had to do with mobile phones, take away her tissues and towel.
