While I was eating breakfast, I saw a curious site -- a shaggy-bearded Farang on a motorbike with an Asian woman and little kid. Our eyes made contact and something told me I should recognize this guy, but I hadn’t a clue how I might know him. That was the sort of guy you wouldn’t easily forget. He was some bizarre cross between a biker and hippie and a … I don’t know what. In fact, he looked a lot like that guy I met on the boat between Indonesia and Malaysia. “Nah, it couldn’t be.”
I went back to my breakfast. Moments later, some folks came up onto the terrace and I looked up to see Mr. Shaggy-Beard. He looked at me like he should know me, and then it clicked. “Didn’t I meet you on the boat?” He gave me a snaggle-toothed grin and shook my hand. “Grab some grub and join me!” I said. The three of them filled their plates, he sat with me, his wife sat with their daughter at a nearby table. We chatted for quite a while.
After breakfast, I wasted no time in getting back to Patong where I went to my smiling girl’s room. I tapped at the door. When she answered, she just looked at me and gave me such a big smile. “Oooh, you!” she said as she wrapped her arms around my neck, gave me a big sniff and a kiss. When I asked her what she did the night before, she responded “Sa-leep!” (sleep). I told her my friends decided to go party so I came back to get her. She gathered her stuff together and we took off for Karon.
Karon beach
We spent the next four days together. Ever day we’d go for a swim at the beach (usually accompanied by our gruesome canine bodyguards).
Photos: Smiling Girl 19 20 21
We used the bike to explore the southern tip of Phuket.
Looking North at Kata and Karon beaches.
A fishing boat plies the azure sea.
Much time was spent sampling Thai cuisine. She usually insisted on Issan food, so I had to be sure whatever restaurant we visited could supply her accordingly. I even ventured into the world of spicy food a few times. One of her favorite activities was “Sing-song” (karaoke). Her favorite was from a group/guy called Potato. The song was very popular everywhere I went. The lyrics, I learned, were something along the lines of “Please don’t go!” She sing that one from memory, looking me right in the eye.
Photos: Smiling Girl 22 23 24
Of course, every sunset was spent on the beach.
Sunset on Patong beach.
I was getting massaged at least twice a day. Every time she saw a pregnant woman, my smiling girl would get excited and remind me her of her goal: having a white baby. Whenever we passed by a jewelry shop, she’d point out the wedding ring she wanted. Most of our time was spent, of course, in bed or in the Jacuzzi.
Oh, did we spend time in bed. One day, she managed to bring me off five times. That, my brothers, is a personal best for me (and I’m a guy who once complained about not being able to come more than three or four times a week!). Perhaps I might have managed such a feat in my twenties had I not been involved with a frigid girlfriend, but those days are <gulp> many years behind me. It’s comforting to know that you’re only as old as the women you feel.
Photo: Smiling Girl 25
During our time together, my smiling girl had become a star pupil. One of the techniques I taught her was, um, ball-handling skills. At every opportunity, her fingers were wrapped around my nuts (including on the bike).
Being a total novice, she was very curious about my own sexual experiences. Being Thai, however, she was too shy to ask many questions. She wanted to know how many girlfriends I’d had. “Five hundred” I told her. “You, five hundred and one!” She sulked about that until I pointed out that she was number one in my heart. This was quite true, incidentally; I’d grown immensely fond of her. She, of course, referred to me as number two (when she wasn’t referring to me as Ass Dog).
Photos: Smiling Girl 26 27 28 29
I took her back to our favorite beach where we spent the day lounging and swimming. We clambered out onto the rocks, looked for fish and chased the crabs. When I asked her to strip naked for some photos, she did so without hesitation. As the sun went down, I took her back into the sea, removed her bikini bottom and performed my favorite activity at that beach.
Photos: Smiling Girl 30 31 32 33 34 35 36
All good things must come to an end, however. I was destined to return to Bangkok and Pattaya. Months ago, I had promised my (other) sweetie, Ann, that I would spend the last few days of my holiday with her. She was not the willing and active sex kitten as was my smiling girl, but I enjoyed her genteel manner and big soft eyes. I was also craving a bit more variety.
During our time together, I had bought my smiling girl several gifts including a cheap watch and a couple of “jean sa-kuts” (jean skirts). Now and then, I’d stuffed her pockets with Baht, so she’d have some mad money. When I departed, I’d also left her nearly three month’s salary (not that I was overly generous, she really didn’t make much in the sewing sweat shops). I promised that I would return to her some day. Rest assured, gentlemen, that this was a promise I fully intended to keep. I said goodbye to my smiling girl, insisting that she continue to smile as I rode off. She stood in the entranceway watching until I drove out of site.
Back on Karon beach, I collected my bag and rode back to Phuket town. I returned the motorbike and picked up a ride to the airport. I knew I’d soon be missing my smiling girl.
Next stop, Bangkok!