Butterflies Are Free To Fly-part 1-by Cent

[Central Scrutinizer]

Butterflies Are Free To Fly--Part 1

 

     Greg had had a bad day at work. Now he was sitting in a taxi, stuck in the inevitable gridlock that passed for a traffic system in Bangkok, while watching the heavy monsoon rains soak the few residents unlucky enough not to have found cover from the downpour. He watched as a nubile young lass in a white blouse scurried for the safety of a concrete roofed bus stand past the front of his traffic jam stalled metered taxi. Greg noticed the meter seemed to be running a bit faster than was normal, and continued eyeing the well formed breasts of the lass running by with her now translucent top plastered to her shapely form from the soaking rain. "God would I love a taste of those!" he thought to himself. "Prime stock that one. Must be around 18 or 19 years old!" He drifted into a daydream of what he would do with her in bed as his mouth began to water. His manhood stirred slightly in excitement from his lecherous thoughts as he ogled her through the rain spattered window of his taxi.

     The girl turned, and, noticing Greg's admiring stare, gave a quick flashing smile and glanced away modestly. "Shy little wench." Greg muttered to himself. "Must not be on the game yet." Which only increased his desires for her favors. He looked up and saw the reflection of the cab driver's eyes watching him in the rear view mirror, and smiled to him in a show of male camaraderie. They both had been thinking the same thoughts and bonded a bit as only horny males can do when caught out ogling the same beauty.

     Although the driver probably thought her a bit on the thin side and would prefer her 4 or 5 kilos heavier. Still, she was a looker. The driver smiled back and asked Greg if he'd like to listen to some music. "I have some farang music tapes." he told Greg. "Sure," said Greg, "As long as it's not the Eagles." The driver looked confused a bit at this statement, his smile faltering slightly, and Greg thought, "The little fucker probably HAD been going to put on an Eagle's tape! What the hell is it with Thai's and the frigging Eagles anyway?" The driver recovered and said, "I have Elton John if you like?" Greg laughed lightly and said, "Yeah, Elton's fine. Slap it in. Krup." The driver turned and rumaged through a few cassettes before selecting one and putting it into the tape player slot. The traffic advanced a few meters and Greg could no longer see the pretty young girl. "God, I hope that "Candle in the Wind" tribute by Elton to the dead Princess Diana isn't on this tape." he thought, "I hate that damned song!" Outside the taxi window now Greg spied two mangy soi dogs banging away in a doorway cubicle off the sidewalk out of the rain, as an old beggar woman with missing legs sat on the opposite side of the cubicle. He looked away.

     On the stereo Elton was singing a song that Greg couldn't remember the name to. Something about butterflies are free to fly, so fly away, high away. Greg smiled to himself a bit and thought, "Yeah, this butterfly is going flying tonight with Joy from the DC-10 bar in Nana!" This thought brought a smile to his face and brightened his mood considerably. He thought about Joy and her sexy smile, and her lithe body, which had the nicest tits Greg had ever seen anywhere, on any race of woman. He had been seeing Joy for a couple of months now whenever he could get the time. Joy was an animal in bed, and knew all of Greg's sexual needs and likes. A night with her was a happily draining experience.

     Greg had called her from work earlier on her mobile phone and told her to pay her barfine when she went to work this evening, and to meet him at The Warbler on Soi 4. She had been asleep as usual when Greg called at noontime, but had happily consented while sleepily murmuring, "I be at Wubluh 9 o'clock Tilac. Okay?" Greg had told her to be there at 8 instead, knowing the greedy little bitch might try to sneak in a quick short time before 9 if she got the chance. Greg didn't mind her making her living screwing other punters for profit, but had no desire to being served sloppy seconds. "I have to be home by around midnight tonight darling." he had explained to her. "Noi is acting up lately and I can only see you for a little while tonight." Joy grumbled a bit about having wanted to go to a new disco later that night, but agreed to be at Warbler's by eight before hanging up and returning to sleep.

     Noi was Greg's Thai wife of ten years, and lately she had been acting up and had become very suspicious of Greg's supposed Friday night business meetings, causing quite a few nasty scenes at home the past few months. The intruding thought of Greg's wife Noi brought an involuntary grimace to Greg's still handsome face. Elton's "Benny and the Jets" filled the taxi with it's funky thumping beat and soothing lyrical hooks as Greg reluctantly thought about his wife Noi and the problems she had been causng him lately with her weekly histronics. The thought of another night of these wee hour dramatics depressed him. His thoughts drifted back to the rainsoaked cutie a few blocks back in the distance.

     The green and yellow meter taxi crept a few more meters along the waterlogged and auto clogged soi as Greg sat pondering his life's choices and the weird turn of events that had brought him to be living in Thailand, working in Bangkok, and having a Thai wife and two children so far away from his hometown of Portsmith, New Hampshire.

     The rain continued unabated. At least it would cool off the city a bit in the evening if the rain stopped. Plastic baggie clad moto-cyke drivers continued to struggle between the cars in their never-ending quest to reach the front of the line before the traffic lights turned green. Most looked soaked and miserable astride their noxious fume spewing under-powered mechanical steeds.

    Eventually, in what seemed to be a week or more, but was actually 30 minutes, Greg's taxi finally turned off Sukhumvit onto Soi 22, where Greg had a two bedroom, two bath, condo at the far end of the soi with his wife and kids. Feeling the need for a quick beer or two after his depressing considerations as to the problems his wife Noi had been giving him recently Greg had the driver drop him off at the corner where the Denny's Corner Bar was located just a ways up from Sukhumvit on 22 across from the Regency Park Hotel. Greg paid the driver his fast running meter reading, sans tip which he had already made from the dodgy meter, and taking his copy of the Bangkok Post, which he covered his head with for protection from the still pouring rain, made a quick dash of the few steps from the taxi to the bar entrance. The Denny bar is an open air bar on two sides with barstools set along both open sides along a counter. Inside is a proper bar with stools. Greg made his way to the inside bar as the rain-fuelled wind had picked up some strength and was spraying a bit of rain under the eaves which cover the outer barstools.

     As Greg uncovered his newspaper shrouded head a tiny Thai lady ran up to him laughing and screeching his name, "Khun Greg! Khun Greg! Come sit here with me and I give you massage!" It was Nit, or Nutty Nit as Greg had come to nickname her. She was his favorite bar lady in Denny's. She grabbed his oversized farang paw in her tiny hands and dragged him to a stool where she asked him what he'd like to drink. "Just a Carlsberg please Nit." Greg ordered as he grabbed a seat on the bar stool. Nit ran behind the bar to draw the beer for Greg as Greg took his cigarettes, a pack of Winstons, and a cheap lighter out of his shirt pocket and lit a smoke. One of the reasons Greg liked Nit, and came to the Denny bar, was Nit's penchant for giving her wonderful shoulder and arm massages to her customers. Although a tiny little thing Nit had the strongest hands Greg had ever seen on a near midget of a lady, and gave the best relaxing expert massages he'd ever had. All for the mere price of a Mekong whiskey for the hard working Nit.

     Nit had a hard life story, and told it often to who ever would listen. She had been married once, was 38 years old, although looked maybe 23, and had a son. Husband and son were now both long dead as Nit's husband had crashed the family pick-up truck one night while drunk, killing himself and their son. Nit never really got over this and was working the bar to survive, taking the occasional customer to her bed to supplement her meager pay as a bar hostess. She was particular about who she went with, and had been trying to seduce Greg, who she claimed to love big time, for the past two years. Greg had been tempted, Nit was a sexy little lass who Greg thought would be one hell of a roll in the hay, but the bar was just a bit too close to home, and his wife Noi knew Greg sometimes stopped there for a beer or two on the way home.

     Nit had told Greg that his wife Noi had stopped at the bar a few times recently and grilled all the female help, wanting to know if Greg ever bar-fined any of the ladies who worked there. Greg was pleased that Nit had told him about this, and had a big fight with his wife Noi that night about how she made him lose face at his bar. Noi had never stopped in since. Noi was starting to become a pain in the ass lately though, and Greg had been furious she had done this. Nit brought Greg his beer and started giving him a massage.

     Two other farang customers were sitting in the bar and said hi to Greg. Both were ex-pats who also lived and worked in Bangkok that Greg knew slightly from the bar and chatted with occasionally. The Denny bar was a good place to relax, speak some English with the customers, and get one of Nit's famous massages. Greg loved to get a chance to speak English after spending all day speaking mostly Thai at work. He chatted with the ex-pats and the occasional tourist who would wander in the bar for a drink. It was Greg's way to wind down after work and catch up on the news from around the world as experienced from a farang's point of view. Most of the news sources in Thailand had a Thai slant to them and Greg loved to talk with the other farangs he met in Denny's, especially the American tourists he sometimes met there.

     After a half hour and two Carlsbergs, and Nit's relaxing ministrations to his arms, back, and shoulders, Greg glanced at his watch and saw it was time to go. The rain had finally stopped, and Noi would have his dinner ready by now, so Greg paid his chit cup, slipped Nit a good tip, hell, he could afford to be generous with her, by Thai standards he was very well paid, and left the bar after saying so long to the other ex-pats and staff.

     Outside the air was clean smelling after the rain having so recently purged the pollutants from the grimy airs of Bangkok. Greg decided to walk and forego the short tuk-tuk drive. It wasn't far, about a ten minute or so brisk walk down to the end of Soi 22 to his condo complex. He liked the exercise anyway, and took off at a moderate pace, while daydreaming a bit about taking Nit to a short-time hotel some day and using his large falang schlong to explore the depths of the tiny Nit's inner self. He smiled as he walked, avoiding the people around the outdoor food stalls and the occasional soi dog or dogshit on the sidewalk. He caught himself humming the Elton John song about butterflies.

     It started to rain again a couple of hundred yards from his condo so he ran the rest of the way. "Shit," he thought, "I'll be sweating like a pig now for the next hour! Why the hell didn't I take my umbrella this morning?" He ran up the stairs to the lobby of his complex and went inside.

(to be continued)

 

Cent

[jagoturner]

Perfectly captures the horror of being stuck in a taxi with a driver who assumes a farang will be delighted to here the kind of bland insipid music he would never listen to in a thousand years back home.

Perfectly captures the typical Bangkok downpour and the attitudes within it.

Perfectly captures the jealous tendancies of certain Thai wives. I tend to find that my wife doesn't go asking questions so much as people spill forth to meet her and tell her how evil I am.

Great stuff. Can't wait to see how the story progresses.

[Steve]

I concur, enjoyed it.

"Shy little wench." Greg muttered to himself. "Must not be on the game yet."

Especially liked that line.

[Central Scrutinizer]

Chocolat Steve,

Thanks. Glad you've enjoyed it so far and thanks for letting me know. I appreciate the feedback and value the input you guys give me. Thanks again.

Cent

[ August 28, 2001: Message edited by: Cent ]

[Central Scrutinizer]

Sorry, just trying to get the story parts together so I can post part 4.

Cent