The Floodgates Opened

[Guest]

A wise man wouldn't have gone out when the streets were flooded. A wise man would have stayed at home, read a book, surfed the internet, started on his emergency supplies of alcohol to be located at various out of the way places in his apartment. A wise man would have stayed put.

 

I, however, have never been an advocate of wisdom. I saw the pissing flood of rain outside my window as a challenge. God's way of saying "I dare you."

 

It wasn't so bad in the courtyard outside my apartment. There were a few pools that looked deep enough to drown a small child of course but I didn't think it would be that bad. I went down and stood under the awning nodding "Hello" to a couple of bargirls setting off to work. Except they weren't actually setting off. They were just standing there staring at the vast splattering rain interrupted by the occasional crash, bang, wallop of Asian fork lightning.

 

To get to the thoroughfare of Phetchburi Tat Mai you had to pass along a narrow alley between two other apartment buildings. As the alleyway looked very much like a small river I cosidered a route. I tried to remember what parts of the shattered tarmac were on higher ground. Stick to the higher ground. When there was a break in the rain I set off, twisted my way around the small oceans, and hit the mouth of the alley.

 

I noted that my bravado had given the two bargirls courage. Maybe they figured that this crazy farang who didn't actually have to be somewhere but was going anyway knew something. I took my first tentative steps and the water washed over my shoes. The bargirls had already removed their shoes and were going barefoot. I, on the other hand, was more concerned about stepping on broken glass and having unclean water seeping into an open wound than the health of my shoes. I stepped carefully, oh so carefully, through the ground I knew and could see was only slightly submerged. Someone behind us, another bargirl tried to rush it, she was, in an instant, in it up to her knees. Her screams caused a ripple of panic in the two girls so bravely following my lead.

 

We made it to Petchburi The pavement was only wet. The road, however, was another issue altogether. The area near the gutter was submerged beneath at least a foot of brown water. The cars were keeping to the middle of the street. The two girls who I had brought to safety took the last motorcycle taxi and waved me a fond goodbye and I was left considering my options. There were no taxi's to be seen. I wanted to go to the Soi Cowboy and so that was where I was going to go.

 

I crossed the river, sorry, the road, by the steel bridge near St Dominic's school, and wended my way toward Soi 21. Asoke. Asoke was the first Buddhist ruler of India (I know because I once saw an Indian movie about him with a lot of killing and singing). Nothing to do with the story. Just a little tidbit of information there. Asoke Road, however, is a very long road that is never quite as long in my memory as it is when I'm walking down it. On this particular day it was the longest road in the world because I realised for the first time, and I don't know why I hadn't realised this before, that Sukhumvit is a lower lying area than Patchburi Tat Mai. As I walked down Asoke I was, first, in water up to my ankles, then, up to the water to my knees, and finally, in the water up to my thighs. Once I had given up on the idea of arriving at the bar in any way a dry man I started to enjoy the act of trudging around in filthy water. It was not unlike being at the seaside in Brighton. I saw the occasional person like myself wading and almost swimming through the stuff and we would wave and laugh good-naturedly at each other. It was all very good fun. Occasionally I'd step in one of Bangkok's famous potholes and go down an extra foot.

 

The Soi Cowboy was on slightly higher ground and the bars were handing out towels to the customers who had made the effort. I sat in one of the less populated bars and ordered a beer. A slim, pretty, older girl started giving me a massage.

 

"You wet ?"

 

"Only the parts that show."

 

"You like massage." Her fingers dug deeper than Ralgex ever could and eased away the world.

 

"Yeah. I like. You do a very good massage..."

 

"Nit."

 

"Nit."

 

"What your name ?"

 

"Turk."

 

"Turk. Turk Turk Turk. Why I know that name ?"

 

"It's usually followed by the words 'no good drunk butterfly too much.'"

 

"Oh. Yes. Now I remember. My friend say you no good drunk who butterfly too much."

 

I laughed. She said it in a way that made it funny... You had to be there.

 

"You want a drink Nit ?"

 

She wai'ed me. And ordered a vodka tonic from the barman. I know it's a small thing but I always warm to a bargirl who, when you offer her a drink, actually has a drink instead of one of those watery concoctions that the bar usually gives them. I didn't care if it cost me more. It made me feel like I was in good company. When she got the drink I slipped her a hundred as a personal tip. She seemed grateful and kept massaging my shoulders and then massaging my sides. She leant her chin on my shoulder and I could see her face in the mirror behind the optics. It was a nice face. One marked by a little experience but still pretty in every way that counted.

 

"I don't care if you drink and butterfly." She said. "I drink and butterfly too."

 

"Maybe some night we could go out and drink and butterfly together."

 

She smiled, draped her arms around my neck and gave me a squeeze. The feeling of her slim hot body pressed against my back gave me a stirring of the loins which I tried very hard to ignore. One doesn't like to fall at the first hurdle. She brushed her lips against the back of my neck and gave me a soft warm kiss. Her hands released me and gently, as if by accident, rested on my lap. She pulled away as if pretending to be shocked then looked me in the mirror and smiled a smile that promised something so devastatingly wonderful that I wondered at the possibility of me being able to get up and walk without being obvious to the world.

 

I tried to laugh this off and change the subject. "How long have you worked here. I don't think I've ever seen you before."

 

"Maybe you see but you don't remember. I work here five months already."

 

"I don't come in this bar too often."

 

"But you come tonight."

 

Finding myself stuck in a double entendre loop that would have embarassed the screenwriter of Carry On Up the Khyber I mentioned something about my work, which I never usually do being it is the nature of my work that I don't. She told me she was from Bangkok and had a small son who lived with her and her mother in a flat in Thonburi. She told me ordinary stuff about the way she lived and the way she quite enjoyed this work even though she wasn't supposed to. It was a nice conversation. It's always pleasant to talk to someone in the bar who isn't full of shit. Nit wasn't a victim, or someone destroyed by the bar, or someone who wanted to be saved. She was exactly what she seemed to be. Or at least she seemed to be someone who was exactly what she seemed to be.

 

We had a second drink together and then a third. Soon we retired to the long sofa at the back of the bar and sat behind a table. She remarked at the wetness of my trousers.

 

"It's just a little dampness. It will soon go away."

 

She smiled. "You should take off."

 

"No. You're all right. I'll be all right."

 

"I help you take off."

 

"Yeah ?"

 

"I make you warm."

 

"Just a tad."

 

She looked me dead in the eye and touched my cheek with her finger drawing me as if by some kind of hypnotic suggestion into a kiss. It wasn't a tongue waggling affair. It was a lighter kind of kiss altogether. A mild suction between the lips. Then another from a slightly different angle. Then another from a different angle still. Then another kiss from another angle pushing me backwards until her body is lying upon mine.

 

"Ay ay ay ay." Said another girl hitting her. "You want make love you pay bar. Get a room."

 

She pulled back and smiled. But there was no false embarassment. She wasn't a girl. She was a woman. Sounds stupid to make the distinction but somehow it really suited her.

 

"You want to get a room." I said.

 

She shook her head. "I want to stay here. Save your money. Another night can get a room. Tonight I have to go home. When work finish. If my son wake up I want him to see me."

 

"What happened to the father."

 

"Gone. Gone long time. Is okay. I like better not to have man. I same like you. I like butterfly and drink too much."

 

She kissed me again. I found myself handing her a five hundred baht note.

 

"Is for what ?"

 

"Just a tip."

 

"I not make anything for you."

 

"Never mind I." And she place a finger to my lips. She smiled that same promising smile.

 

She kissed me and pushed me back on the sofa again. She kissed me and kissed me with each kiss more voracious than the last. Eventually her kisses were open mouthed and her hands slipped inside the waist of my trousers. She didn't do anything but squeeze me. No rapid movements. No jolting. She just squeezed my penis as she kisssed me with this increasing passion. She must have known a lot of dicks in her time because that squeeze brought me to this absolute peak in seconds. I almost wanted to cry out but her mouth was over mine suppressing any noise from me. She lay there like that for a while as my dick pumped out a full load of come and the wetness spread over her hand and into my pants. when it had finished pumping she pulled her head away from mine a foot or so and smiled a smile that promised much more than this if I returned another night. She didn't let go of my penis until it was starting to get back to it's normal rested size. But as it relaxed she gave it another tiny squeeze that had it back up again.

 

Then, and this is the good part, she snuck her hand away and showed it to me with come webbing her fingers. She put each finger in her mouth and sucked it clean. I was in a kind of blissed out state for minutes after this until the cooling spunk on cloth sensation drove me to the little boys room to try and clean up. Wiping off and using toilet paper as a kind of nappy I returned to her and we ordered more drinks. By the end of the evening she was on straight vodka and I was in Johnnie Walker land. We fed each other drinks through kisses and held on to each other until the music stopped and the lights went off.

 

The rain was in full flow again and Nit was worried about getting home. There was a motorcycle taxi at the end of the Cowboy, at that time, who had a Harley. He always wanted more cash than the others. I paid him to take her all the way to her front door. It wasn't cheap but I wasn't bothered. I figured she might feel she owed me one.

 

As I watched her soaring off into the night splashing the hell out of passers by I felt a strange inner happiness. I decided to go for a swim.

 

It was my lucky night.

 

[uk101]

Brilliant - for me the best yet.

 

[Ranger]

TurkFist,

 

Your grand adventures are inspiring me to broaden my horizons. No longer will my nights in LOS be the standard go-go bar crawl in search of that nights "stunner". Keep up the fine work!!! :bow:

 

Ranger

[spike]

incredible story. next time i am in bkk (july '04) i will be making a concerted effort to meet more mature women. i just never see them hanging around. it is as if being over 30 relagates you to obscurity. i am glad you found a beautiful mature woman. take care my friend.

[smittyjp]

Great stuff.

 

Smitty