I had the girl stop at a 7-11 so I could get some water. I was not about to pay the extortionate rates of the beach vendors. I picked up four bottles and told the girl driving the other bike to buy some snack food. She insisted they didn’t want anything. I told to go ahead, but she refused – that is until I was running my purchase through the checkout. She then grabbed a big bag of some crisp fishy snacks and smiled sheepishly.
My favorite secluded beach.
We parked the bikes and made our way down to the beach. It was a bit of a hike, so you don’t get too many old and overweight Farangs huffing around. I waved hello to my restaurant friend. She took a look at my entourage and gave me a big smile. It was after 1PM, so we didn’t get our choice of chairs. We found four together and the girls arranging the umbrellas so as not to get hit by the sun. It wasn’t long before they started to play around in the water. I noted, with much interest, that none of them possessed a bathing suit. They just swam in their shorts and t-shirts.
I went out to join them a few moments later. While they could all swim a bit, I had fun teaching them to float on their backs and showed them how to squirt water through their hands. The most fun was whenever a few large waves rolled in and caused a general panic among all the Thais.
In the water, my eye caught a lean, fit, good-looking babe playing around on an air mattress with a long-nosed Farang. There was something about her that looked familiar, but I just couldn’t place her.
My girls spent their time between dog paddling into the deep water and splashing about in the knee-deep surf. A bit of commotion erupted when the female manager of the Love Bar showed up. This is the bar where I met Gin and Tan. I was half expecting the girls to be with her, but she was with some others I’d never seen before. I went up and chatted with her a bit before going back to my chair.
The girls continued to frolic in the water. They had attracted the attention of some Mediterranean looking young guys, who had loaned the girls their air mattresses. I didn’t pay much attention. If the boys had managed to snag the girls, no harm done. However, they rejoined me and started chowing down on the fishy crisps.
The girl on the air mattress was haunting me. She just looked soooo familiar. Something was tugging at my memory. It hit me. It couldn’t possibly be. I dug through my bag and pulled out the prints I’d made a couple days earlier. I looked at the face but I just couldn’t make the connection. The swimsuit, on the other hand, was one-of-kind on that body. I returned to the water. The girl on the air mattress was mostly ignoring Mr. Long Nose, concentrating on something on the raft. I positioned myself between the sinking sun and the girl so that I was silhouetted. I could see her quite clearly, could make out every frown line on her bitchy countenance.
There was no mistaking it now. Playing around on that air mattress was a girl who was supposed to be hundreds of kilometers away. My bad girl, Oum, was barely three meters from me. I hadn’t recognized her because her hair was a bit shorter, teased up and now possessed blonde streaks.
The girls at her bar were adamant about Oum having returned home, but here she was! My initial reaction was go up to her and confront her, but realized that was not only pointless but foolish. It was her life and I was fully aware of her occupation. Who the hell was I to give her grief for not being available to me? Her male companion was no doubt the cuckolded Marcos. I grinned as I thought about how I banged her silly while she talked to him on the phone. I headed back to the beach, smiling slightly, and rejoined my three girls.
Two of my companions announced that they had to go back to work and that the third, smiling girl, would stay with me. “OK,” I said. Smiling girl smiled even more. We went for another swim before deciding to head back to Patong to eat. As we left, I kept an eye on Oum. I was determined to find out when this guy would be through with her so I could nail her again.
On the path out of the beach, my smiling girl, took my hand in hers and told me how much she wanted a white baby. “Well, well, well,” I said to myself, “looks like the ol’ Wombat won’t be sleeping along tonight!” On the ride back, she squeezed in close behind me.
Back in Patong, I took her to my favorite South African BBQ joint. They didn’t have much Thai food, so we headed over to the beach for a sunset dinner. It was quite romantic watching the sun go down (thinking how I was going to go down on her later that evening). I learned that she didn’t smoke (thank god) and didn’t drink. Well, you can’t have everything. She did tell me, however, she was good at massage.
There was no point going out drinking, so we returned to Karon beach. The desk staff was pretty cool about my third girl in as many nights, smiling as we went upstairs. I showed her the room and started filling the Jacuzzi. We showered and she proceeded to massage me. Oooh, she was goooood. She didn’t give me the typical Thai massage, more like a Swedish massage, really working the muscles (as opposed to the bones).
I was playing with her at every opportunity. She was really embarrassed at the fact that she was wet, constantly trying to dry herself with her towel. When I went down on her, she anxiously tried to towel herself again before I snuggled in between her legs. She was nervous about all this, but soon relaxed. When she returned the favor, she was a bit amateurish about it, so I gave her plenty of instruction. She was, I am pleased to report, an apt pupil.
When we got down to business, she was in ecstasy; she really enjoyed herself. She worked every bit as hard as I did. Wow, an equal partner! This was great. When we finished, we climbed into the hot tub for a bit of relaxation and a bit more fun.
I had a great sleep that night, this girl wrapped up in my arms, my face buried in her silky hair. In the morning, I woke her in my favorite manner. She declined breakfast, so I went downstairs for a quick bite and joined her later.
After I woke her for a second time, I announced that I was taking her shopping. She needed a swimsuit and there was a market right off the beach. We walked over and looked at the selection of suits. I jokingly showed her a string bikini. It’s a rare Thai girl who’d be caught dead in such attire, but she didn’t balk at the idea. She picked out a few conservative suits, but I decided to push my luck and insist on the string bikini. This thing consisted of a few triangles of fabric and numerous white cords to hold it all together. At 200THB, it was a steal. I bought her a wrap so she wouldn’t be too embarrassed and we headed back to the hotel to change.
As we walked to the beach, a couple of Thailand’s ugliest dogs tagged along (keep in mind that Thailand is the Land of Ugly Dogs (LoUD), so we’re talking hideous here). We got a couple of chairs on the beach and went swimming. She was not at all shy about prancing around half naked in the surf. I also learned that she was a much better swimmer than she had let on the day before. We whiled away the hours then returned to the hotel for a swim in the pool to rinse off. The ugly dogs tagged along as far as the hotel.
As the sun was setting on the sea, I dragged her back for a beachfront photo session. She was quite happy to pose for me in her little swimsuit. We went back to Patong so she could collect her personal belongings.
She didn’t speak much English (she had the cutest little accent), but tried really hard, frequently referring to her dictionary. I learned that she had left her home in the country to go to work in Bangkok but had decided to visit a friend in Phuket for a holiday first. She was not, as I had first thought, a bargirl. She was a seamstress. She took me to meet her friend, a hairdresser in a little salon tucked in an alleyway on a side street off a backstreet. No Farangs came to this salon, only the local Thai women. She took me to her friend’s room. It was a little one-room cement cell with a fan and portrait of the king and queen on the wall. She gathered her stuff and we returned to Karon.
A tiny shared room.
I discovered some interesting things about my new sweetheart. Not only was I the first Farang with whom she had ever been intimate, I was only the second man she had ever “known” (in the biblical sense). This floored me because this girl took to sex like a cat to cream. If she was only seventeen (the age I first took her for), I would have understood, but this girl was 24!
Her boyfriend died only a few months earlier. If that wasn’t shocking in and of itself, the way she described his death was, well, disturbing. He foolishly killed himself, riding his motorbike drunk (an all-to-often occurrence here). She pantomimed him drinking, bottle turned up, driving his bike, weaving back and forth, and crashing, arms flying. She followed up by laughing about it. I came to understand that she didn’t appreciate this guy. Furthermore, it might well have been her fate had she been on the back of the idiot’s bike. I have to admit that she has a rather philosophical attitude to how he came to leave her.
With that, I decided to teach her all I could about sex and how to please me. My smiling girl became my subservient sex slave those next few days. She learned quickly and put my every lesson to practice. She was still shy about how wet she became when she was horny (which was quite frequent), but less so than our first night together. I moved her out of her little girl underwear and into thongs. The t-shirt was gone, replaced with a tight fitting tank top. No, I wasn’t turning her into a slut, just a hot babe.
Our second morning, I woke her bright and early. The sun was just coming up and I wanted some photos. I took her down to the beach, accompanied by our ugly dogs, and had her cavort about in the surf, au natural. After a few minutes shooting, I was compelled to join her, leaving my camera and clothes on the shore. The curious thing was, and this is why I mentioned the dogs, every time a stranger walked near our stuff while we were swimming, the dogs would growl. They had become our de facto bodyguards. I don’t know how it came about, but she nicknamed me “Ass-dog” (dag-Ma).
Photos: Smiling Girl 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18
We went to the beach, we went to Phuket town to see movies and eat, we went snorkeling, watched her belting out karaoke songs, but mostly we went to bed and made extensive use of the Jacuzzi.
I snuck off a couple of times to take care of e-mail and phone my Pattaya sweetie, Ann.
I hadn’t gotten Oum off my mind, or Ting for that matter. I was determined to do either or both of those girls before leaving Phuket. By now, I had spent six nights with my smiling girl and was much too close to getting married. I needed a short break. The new Marriott resort offered me a phenomenal deal. I could get a two-bedroom bungalow for three nights for only 200USD. I’d wanted to invite Oum or Ann. I decided to go for the sure thing, give Ann a treat and take her to Phuket (where she’d never been). I figured it would take her a day to arrive, so I could spend one night with Oum, maybe two. When I made the suggestion, Ann was very happy to go, but was nervous about traveling alone. There was no way I was going to go pick her up, so I baled out on her. That left my bad girl, Oum. She was scheduled to have returned by now, so Mr Long-Nose should be out of the picture.
I told my smiling girl that I had to meet up with some friends who were coming to the island to go diving. I would be gone for a few days, but would stay in touch with her. I checked out of the hotel, and I dropped her off at her room, promising I’d call her soon. She didn’t cry, but was close to tears. I felt like a bit of heal, lying to her like that, but I really wanted to see Oum (and Ting) again. She ran to her room and returned with a picture of herself. She was sitting in front of a sewing machine, that big smile beaming at the camera. I promised to come back as soon as I could and motored off.
I found another hotel for the night, then scooted back to Patong and Oum’s bar. The mammasan, Oum’s aunt I learned, insisted that she was still back home and would not return for a few more days. I laughed and told her exactly where I’d seen Oum, when I’d seen her and with whom I’d seen her. The aunt’s jaw dropped. “It’s OK,” I told her, “I know all about the big-nosed Farang.” With that, she pulled out her phone and called Oum. It was just my bad luck that now Oum really was back home!
She told me she had grown tired of Marco and his nocturnal phone calls, so she sold her phone to some guy weeks earlier. (That explained why a strange man kept answering her phone every time I tried her number.) Long-nose (and possibly one other) was now sponsoring Oum and she was to leave the bar, hence her departure from Phuket. She planned to go to Bangkok and go to school (but she had no idea what she should study). I had a good laugh talking to her, often referring to her as my bad girl. We agreed that we would meet in Bangkok if we should be there at the same time.
So, no Oum for this bad boy tonight; that left Ting. I arrived at her bar, but she was not there. The girls said that she would show up soon. Before I was halfway through my drink, I spotted her walking through the crowd. She looked fabulous. I don’t know who’d been giving her lessons in style, but her makeup and outfit made her look like a model. I wanted to run over, pick her up, and carry her off over my shoulder.
I bought her a drink and told her about my adventures. The last time she put me off was due to my having “too much power!” so I was prepared to offer her the kinder, gentler, Wombat. That’s when she hit me with the horrible news that her period had just started. She was looking so fine that I seriously thought about taking her out anyway. In the end, I decided to explore other green pastures.
Photos: Sweet Ting 01 02 03
Although my smiling girl did not go to bars, I didn’t want to take the chance that she’d be out and about, so I returned to Karon to explore the bars there. The Karon bar zone is about the same size as the sois off Bangla road, but two thirds of the bars are empty. There were, however, plenty of excited girls. Unfortunately, the better-looking ones were already engaged. I stopped for a drink and headed south to check out the bars on the next beach down. In the end, I returned to my room alone, figuring that a night off would give me an opportunity to recharge the ol’ batteries.
I decided that I would cut short the diving trip with my pals and return to my smiling girl.
A nice piece (double entendre intended).