Mongering after the Apocalypse – Part 10
Pint-sized Pleasure on Soi 6
It’s about 4 p.m. on Sunday, July 26. I’m pedaling my bicycle along 2nd Road toward Soi 3, heading toward Rose Massage parlor.
But nearing Soi 6, I decide to take a brief detour. I turn left into the soi, pedaling slowly.
Today, at least, the bars are packed with bargirls. Even the blowjob bars have ample mouths on offer.
Farangs sightings are few and far between. They can be seen strolling leisurely down this noisy soi, getting delightfully pawed and pulled by eager bargirls – while gleefully basking during their time in the sun.
Without tourists, the skinflint resident expats are the default mongering kings of Pattaya.
Now highly desirable with precious baht in their stingy wallets, these privileged men can seemingly have their pick of the litter among yelping packs of hungry Soi 6 bargirls.
A Memorable Short Time
As I pass “O” bar, I spot a familiar face and amazingly tiny body. She’s so completely absorbed in her phone, I decide to risk taking her photo.
Hah! I remember “Yui” well.
We had one previous encounter in mid-March. It was shortly before the coronavirus lockdown abruptly shut down Thailand.
I’ll always remember getting ripped off by Yui because of my careless mistake.
After we had agreed on ST, we went upstairs to do the dirty deed. Afterward, when it was time to pay, Yui said ST was 2,000 baht, and the room charge was 500 baht.
Shocked, I replied, “I thought ST was 1,000 baht. How come it’s 2,000 baht?”
Yui laughed and said, “You didn’t ask me before.”
She added, “Next time, you can have ST for 1,000 baht.”
I looked at Yui with a mix of annoyance and amusement.
Yup, she had me. A newbie mistake. Always confirm prices beforehand – like when arranging a ride with a motosai driver, or getting into a taxi.
I ruefully handed Yui her 2,500 baht. It was a good reminder not to be careless.
Still, I had greatly enjoyed ravaging Yui’s tiny body. She also didn’t mind my taking photos.
I was inclined to return for my cheaper ST – until COVID-19 ended the world as we knew it.
After taking Yui’s photo outside O Bar, I resume pedaling on my bike. I have to first take care of business and check out Rose Massage.
Yui will be my last resort if all else fails.
A Spinner Sighting at La La Land
I pedal past the rest of the bars and bargirls, keeping well away from their grabby hands.
However, I come to a halt near La La Land. It’s overflowing with bargirls. Among them is a very slim and pale spinner with a round baby face.
My pick of the Soi 6 litter!
Admittedly, this young spinner is not as small as Yui or “Little Duck” Geng. But she’ll do just fine.
Nothing beats fresh young meat for a butterfly man!
I just stand idly next to my bike, acting casual and looking around. The bargirls can see me clearly, standing only 20 meters away. One creepy move could doom my chances, such as getting caught staring at the spinner with a grim, predatory look.
Even just standing outside the bar for too long is not a good idea.
The spinner glances at me a couple times and looks away in disinterest. Admittedly, not an encouraging sign.
Here’s my real problem, though. I’m sober. And my dick feels kinda dead.
Sigh. This is how it is, when you are a retired alcoholic expat – with a fading libido and body – in Pattaya.
I cannot fuck right now. I must first drink a beer, to get into a horny mood and energize myself. Not to mention needing a kamagra boost to revive my lifeless dick.
Inside my backpack is my liquid treasure: two icy Beer Laos, each inserted into a bulky sock, and further wrapped in a small towel for insulation. I had stored the beers in my refrigerator freezer for several hours to get them near freezing, before packing them.
I have to bring my own beers because I cannot buy Beer Lao from stores before 5 p.m. (I will only drink the shitty Thai beers as an absolute last resort.)
To avoid buying lady drinks, I rarely drink in Soi 6 or other beer bars.
My plan was to drink one beer before going to Rose Massage to relax my nerves. The second beer is a backup if my plans didn’t work out – which happens all too often.
I reluctantly get back on my bike, and pedal to Beach Road.
I can always come back for the baby-face spinner. It’s still early in her work shift – presumably she’s not going anywhere.
I start riding on the sidewalk along the beach.
A Coronavirus Casualty
It’s a hot and sunny afternoon – perfect beer-drinking weather. I stop across from the closed McDonald’s at The Bay shopping plaza.
Ronald McDonald is sitting on a bench near the sidewalk. He seems like good company to drink my first beer with.
I cross the street and sit down next to Ronald. I pop open my beer with a mini-bottle opener from my backpack.
I’m really on a Mission Impossible quest – to check if a young masseuse named Om has returned to work at Rose Massage.
I had gotten a Thai massage from her on March 16, just before the Corona lockdown. Om was age 25, small and dark – and desperately seeking a farang boyfriend.
Her intent emerged quickly during our first (and only) Thai massage. As Om started my massage, she asked if I had a girlfriend. After I replied that I did not, she immediately suggested becoming my girlfriend.
Om’s family is in Bangkok. But she disliked living there, so she came to Pattaya at age 16. She has been working different massage parlors, all the while looking for a farang to hook-up with.
I asked Om why she wanted a boyfriend so badly.
“I just want find a boyfriend to take care of me,” she said.
Oh. Sorry, but this farang cannot. I can barely take care of myself financially.
But my inner dirty old man was immediately interested. Why not have a GFE fling with this young innocent?
It would be a golden opportunity to “break her in.” I will teach this naïve and lonely girl a vital life lesson – about the true nature of old farangs in Pattaya.
Om was tiny, about 5 feet tall. She looked reasonably attractive, but that’s about it. She was more like a girl-next-door type. Nothing that would excite a sleazy sex tourist.
Om exuded youthful innocence. I even later wondered if she might still be a virgin at age 25. Om did not date or want a Thai boyfriend, so that seemed possible.
Wow – this has never happened to me in my 6 years of living in Thailand. A young small chick instantly offering to be my girlfriend!
I felt degenerate lust for this lonely young maiden. I played it cool as she continued stroking and rubbing by wrinkly old man body.
I mildly protested to Om that I didn’t want a girlfriend because “I no have money.”
I explained that I was retired. “I finish working,” I said. “I no have job.”
I wanted Om to know I wasn’t a sugar daddy type. “I only get small money from the government,” I added.
Om said nothing and kept massaging.
Meanwhile I was scheming how to proceed from here. No need to rush. When I return for more massages, I can let Om talk me into reluctantly becoming her boyfriend.
One hindrance, though, is the killer work hours of these massage ladies. Many have 12-hour shifts, and usually only take off one day a week.
Om said she worked from about 1 pm to 1 am. I suppose she could visit me before work, for fucking and sucking.
We finished the massage, and I paid my 200 baht to the mamasan. (no “happy endings” in this legitimate parlor). I tipped Om100 baht, to show her my generous nature.
I didn’t ask to take Om’s photo. I figured I had plenty of time later to do that.
The next day was Tuesday, March 17.
I treated myself to another delicious, deep-throat BJ from “Oi,” at the Full Love Inn on Soi Bongkot.
By now Oi and I knew the familiar routine: quickly stripping and commence with the sucking, pronto!
I enjoyed Oi’s teasing and prolonged tongue-licking of my dick while it was stuffed balls-deep down her mouth and throat. For variety, I stood on the bed this time, so my dick was level with Oi’s mouth while she was standing at the edge of the bed.
After awhile, I began to vigorously face fuck Oi, while I towered over her — as her lord and master. I then spurted deep into my sex slave’s mouth, while she milked every last drop from my shuddering dick.
While we were dressing, I gave Oi a mini-English lesson. She was asking me what was the difference between the words “bad” and “bed.”
I teased Oi about being a poor student. I knew that English is a required subject in Thai government schools. But Oi explained that she had to drop out of school at age 12, because her parents couldn’t afford the cost.
Well, I guess that’s life for a poor girl in Lampang province. Sabai Sabai.
After Oi’s BJ, I bought some takeout food and returned to my studio.
While eating dinner, I was idly browsing media headlines on my laptop. The breaking news was startling.
Effective immediately, all bars, nightclubs and massage parlors in Thailand were ordered to shut down, due to the coronavirus threat.
Eh? Now I gotta wait two weeks before visiting Om again?
WTF!
The next day I rode my bike around soi Honey and soi Chaiyapoon, to check on this possible “fake news.” Many bars and massage places were closed, although a fair number were still open, including Amon’s.
I was fairly sure Rose massage was still open. The bars and massage places hadn’t been officially informed yet, so today was likely a grace period.
I could go to Rose Massage tonight, and get her contact information while getting a massage. Then we could meet during the lockdown.
But the timing was bad for me. As evening came, I grew weary and tired.
I often get what I call “deadly fatigue” nowadays – when I suddenly feel an overpowering urge to lie down for a nap, which sometimes lasts for hours.
Is this what creeping old age is like? Until the day comes when you are so worn-out, you are finally tired of life itself?
Soi 3 seems so far away by bicycle.
But mostly, I was feeling ambivalent about Om.
Did I really want to be suddenly thrust together for virtually 24/7, with a strange chick I just met? With no money and nothing to do during the lockdown, Om would likely just want to hang out with me.
The idea made me uncomfortable. I was so used to being alone most of my life. I was in the throes of a deep core issue – of why I never married, or even had a girlfriend.
I wrestled in inner torment – and finally decided not to go Rose Massage. The idea of a live-in girlfriend was too damn uncomfortable. Too much togetherness too soon.
Fuckit. I can wait for two weeks.
The next morning, I started second-guessing myself and regretting my decision. Typical for me.
Only now, it seemed like a good idea to have had a fuck buddy available anytime in this time of widespread isolation.
The setup for seduction was as good as it gets.
I would have initially called Om to come my studio for a regular Thai “massage.” With the two of us alone in my room, it would start out innocently enough. And then . . . .
No need to rush, or do anything really, except just lie there, and let Om be the aggressor. It would have been so natural, so easy.
And I blew it.
Sure enough, when I later biked to soi 3 that afternoon, the sweeping closure was in full effect. The massage parlors were all closed.
A couple of older ladies were sitting in the patio of Rose Massage. They appeared to be the managers or owners. We just smiled knowingly at each other, as I slowly pedaled away.
What was I going to do? Ask them for Om’s phone number? Or an illegal massage? Yeah right.
Shite! Again making the wrong fucking choice. A crossroads choice.
A crossroad decision is one that alters the path of your life – like when you choose a career, or marry someone. The alternate reality would have been so different, if I had gotten Om’s phone number.
Like everyone else, I had no fucking idea what lay ahead. As the lockdown extended into April, and then May, my hopes all but disappeared about ever seeing Om again.
In June, the massage parlors finally got the green light to reopen.
On June 2, I biked to Soi 3. The soi was now lifeless, with no pedestrians. The few massage parlors to reopen only had a skeleton staff, waiting in vain for customers.
Rose Massage had 4 masseuses available, but predictably, no Om.
I decided to get a Thai massage anyway, to help support the shop. The mamasan was very paranoid about the new opening RULES. I had to show my copy of my passport, and sign in first.
My masseuse, Lily, was somewhat cold and businesslike. She remembered Om, and mentioned, “She from Cambodia.”
“Cambodia?” I ask, surprised. Come to think of it, Om did look like a Cambodian, with her small dark body and fuller lips.
I asked Lily what she had done during the lockdown with no job. Lily replied that she was living with her Thai boyfriend, a 7-Eleven clerk. So they got by on his income.
Lily said the bulk of their business at Rose massage were usually Koreans, which surprised me. Yeah, there are a lot of Korean restaurants nearby. But of course no Korean tourists now.
Being from Hawaii, which is predominantly Asian, I know all about Koreans — especially Korean bargirls. Koreans are a gnarly and hot-tempered people – both the men and women.
Lily got a bit testy when I asked what she thought about her Korean customers.
“I don’t care if they Korean,” she replied. “I said I already have boyfriend.”
After the massage, the mamasan asked me to fill out my address where I’m currently staying. I just handed her the business card of R-Con, and she copied it down.
The boss lady told me Om would return in one month. “Right now no customers, so she cannot come back yet.”
COVID-19: Destroyer of Dreams
So here we are, one month later.
My drinking buddy Ronald McDonald has been listening in silent sympathy to my coronavirus tale of woe.
It’s almost time to leave for Rose Massage.
A couple of Soi 6 bargirls walk past me on their way to the Family Mart. I jump up from the bench after they pass. All I can manage are junky butt shots.
Presumably, they will be walking back.
I stand nearby a small booth, partially shielded by a road sign, and wait for them, like a hunter in the forest.
Sure enough, here they come.
From a distance, I begin shooting, holding my phone slightly above my waist, like I’m scrolling through my Facebook, trying to disguise what I’m doing.
I don’t look directly at the bargirls. I’m looking down at my phone, totally absorbed in trying to frame them on my phone’s screen and adjusting the zoom. It’s really hit-and-miss when taking sneaky photos.
The bargirls are perfectly aware of what I’m doing. As they walk past me, I look at them in sickly apprehension. Busted!
The bargirl with the bow-tied hair just smiles and looks ahead, and they keep walking.
Whew! A reprieve. Dodging another bullet of shame. The creepy street photographer lives to shoot another day.
Well Ronald, it’s been nice talking to you, buddy, but I gotta go now.
Thanks for listening to all my troubles. See you around.
I get on my bike, and start pedaling toward Soi 3.
This is it, really, for me.
If Om is still not there, it’s no use returning to Rose Massage to keep checking. It would be just wasting time.
There’s obviously not enough customers for that area – it’s too much on the outskirts, so far away from busier Buakhao Road or Walking Street.
It’s maybe time to give up the ghost. I get to Rose massage.
There’s only two masseuses working. Not surprising really.
A skinny lady who might have been the mamasan did not know who Om was. The lady points to another masseuse sitting on the floor. “She can massage you.”
The girl starts to rise hopefully. I quickly shake my head, and pedal away in disappointment.
So that’s it then. Om is gone with the wind.
As I leave, several girls from the massage parlor across from Rose call out and wave to me. One of them is young and sexy looking. I feel momentarily tempted. What a sweet-looking young thing!
But I have to return to Soi 6 to look for the spinner at La La Land. I don’t want to waste an hour with a massage that might not offer a happy ending.
I notice these Soi 3 massage parlors seem to have some young masseuses. A shame really, for idle young pussy to be wasted like that. But, these are hard times for everyone, really.
I pedal my bike up to Second Road.
I stop in front of the Family Mart, nearby an outdoor, tourist-trap seafood courtyard, which advertises itself as “SohoTown Pattaya – the Chinatown landmark of Pattaya.”
Now it’s more like a ghost town.
I buy a cup of ice, and sit down on the steps in front of Second Road to drink my beer on ice.
I sip my beer unhappily, brooding over the death of my latest Pattaya pipe dream.
I’m now forced to swallow the bitter regret of blowing another golden opportunity in my life – the chance for a “Girlfriend Experience.”
This life-long pattern is so damn fucking familiar. Making wrong choices at crucial times – because I choose to dwell in my entrenched comfort zone, rather than risk a connection, or even share my life briefly with another.
Life would have been so different during the lockdown, had I chosen that different fork – the road not taken.
There would have been many glorious days and nights of sucking and fucking young Om. Sure, I would have to “take care of her” for a while financially. But I would have eventually released her back into this brutal, post-coronavirus world – sadder but much wiser in the ways of old farang men in Pattaya.
In my reality that I created and I live in, Om has vanished from this world, never to be seen again. All I’m left with is another haunting regret to take to my grave.
And that’s my tragic coronavirus story.
I take another sip of beer, and notice a Thai lady to my left, holding her phone upward, as if taking photos. She seems somewhat excited. I look at her curiously, and she points upward.
Hey! There’s a goddam monkey walking on the electric wires!
I whip out my phone and start shooting.
What the hell? Yes, “TiT” (This is Thailand).
I finish up my beer and get ready to tackle Soi 6. Time for Plan B: the sexy spinner at La La Land.
I slurp most of a kamagra gel packet, and discard the rest. I’m fully ready for some young pussy action now.
It’s time to move forward in life!
The Last-Resort Short Time
I pedal back to Soi 6, intending to drown my sorrows inside the moist pussy of the La La Land spinner.
I park my bicycle on Beach Road, and enter Soi 6.
I approach La La Land slowly, and see the spinner is not there. Shite. It’s only about 6 p.m. What the hell happened?
Maybe another punter already scooped her up. She might be drinking in the back with him, or getting fucked upstairs.
Sigh. Again, another painful mongering lesson. Rinse and repeat.
When the P4P window of opportunity opens, seize it now!
You have to drop everything, no matter how inconvenient, or how tired, lazy, or sick you might be feeling – you must fuck that sexy P4P bitch now – or she will disappear into thin air as soon as you turn your back.
Don’t wait for later, because there often is no “later.” I should have tried to nail the La La Land spinner as soon as I saw her, regardless of my sober dead dick.
Well, OK then. Time for the last resort.
Hello Yui! Long time no see!
I quickly walk to the other end of Soi 6. I see Yui at O bar, and go right to her. She smiles at me in seeming recognition.
I dispense with preliminaries, and remind Yui of our last ST. I confirm that her ST price is now 1,000 baht. She readily agrees.
We enter the bar, and I pay 300 baht to the bartender/cashier for the ST room. We go upstairs to the same room that we fucked before the coronavirus hit.
At last! Together again. Just me and my tiny little turtledove.
Yui has to be the smallest bargirl on Soi 6.
Although “Chili” at Horny bar is just as tiny, she’s noticeably thicker than Yui.
Yui agrees to shower together but she’s skittish. I don’t get to soap her small ass and legs much.
“Do that in the room,” she insists.
Sigh…. another prudish and proper hooker. Very unsatisfying.
Yui has an odd, misshapen skinny body. She has a small hump near her right hip, and her spine appears slightly crooked, like a deformity at birth.
After showering, Yui leans back on the pillow, wrapped in her towel.
“Let’s relax first,” she says.
What relax? I don’t want to just lie here and relax. I want to fuck!
You shows me the screen from her big phone, of what appears to be a falling-blocks type game. “Let’s play game,” she says.
Fuck dat! I don’t play stupid video games. I never have, and never will.
Instead, while Yui is playing with her phone, I start to massage her tiny body.
I spread her legs slightly, and sit between them.
My dirty-old-man hands begin to leisurely roam all over Yui’s skinny body. I grasp and stroke her pipe-like legs, marveling at their smallness.
Yes, I like this.
I rub my hands up Yui’s flat-chested torso and ribcage, and over her nipples, causing her to flinch.
I’m really enjoying playing with my little fuck doll, as she tunes me out while playing her video game.
Yui’s trimmed pussy is in plain view, but every time I touch it, she winces. Too sensitive. I can see I’m just distracting Yui from her video game, so I avoid her pussy.
I actually want to prolong my “foreplay.” I’m feeling very good, pleasantly drunk, with my kamagra-hardened dick.
I look down with demented satisfaction at my swollen, ramrod stiff dick, knowing that it will soon be plunging deeply into this tiny creature’s body.
After about 10 minutes, Yui has enough of playing her game and puts her phone aside.
Ah yes. Finally down to business.
I lean down and suck Yui’s nipples. She moans and arches upward. Aha! You like dat eh?
I continue sucking, while running my hands freely over her body, grabbing her small arms and then her hands. I open her left hand and look at it, fascinated at its tiny size, feeling her fingers and clasping her hand.
Time to move on.
You suck? Yui nods, and I bring dick close to her head. She leans over and begin sucking.
Her blowjob is OK. It feels good, not like the deep throating of Oi – but I wasn’t expecting or needing that anyway. The lure for me was Yui’s incredibly tiny body.
I do a bit of face fucking with Yui, but she can’t handle much of that, so I stop.
Time for some pussy plundering! I slip condom on my dick, happy with its rock hardness.
Here we go!
With my dick, I tickle and rub Yui’s pussy lips…. and plunge inside. Her pussy is tight. I’m not sliding in smooth enough … it feels like I need more lube.
I grab my KY tube and add a big dab to the tip of my dick. Yui is just lying there, looking silently at me.
I then re-enter. Yessss – more smooth now.
I take my time shoving my dick by increments into her pussy, as Yui gasps. She seems uncomfortable. She complains, “Jep! Jep!” so I can’t really go deep yet.
We plod along, as I enjoy the sight of Yui’s tiny body writhing under me. She seems to pump her hips upward at times, like she’s getting turned on a bit.
At one point I do shove my dick deeply inside her. But not easy, she’s holding her legs stiff so I can’t get a deep plunging angle.
I cup Yui’s small ass with my hands and lift her up a bit. I move her up and down with my dick fully inside her.
I grab and stroke her tiny forearms, and then clasp her hands, playing with my little fuck doll. This is the kind of game I like!
Yes, this is very good… I like this!
I continue awhile more, but I won’t last much longer. I flip Yui over, and finish with doggie prone bone. I start slamming her ass, trying create obscene slapping sounds by piledriving my groin against her small ass cheeks.
But she complains it’s painful. So I sit upright and finish that way, spurting deep into her pussy.
Yui immediately moves to try and dislodge me after I come. Her ordeal is over, thank goodness.
I don’t especially feel bad nowadays, that I’m not a tender, considerate lover.
My tainted soul has been corrupted by a lifetime of violent porn. I only get turned on now by acting like the callous porn studs I’ve watched in sickening envy.
Yeah, gotta pound that porn pussy — you can see the filthy sluts really dig it. Hurts so good, baby!
And yet, I don’t think I do as much pussy damage as punters with big dicks who brag about pounding a chick for one hour straight.
The few times I’ve lasted a long time, and maybe fucked a chick for 20 or 30 minutes, my dick just starts feeling sore.
What’s the point anyway? You’re just doing the same motion repeatedly. In-and-out and in-and-out and in-and-out. It gets boring to me.
Yui goes off to shower as I lie on the bed listlessly. I’m feeling that familiar, empty feeling after another loveless fuck.
Is this it then? Is this all there is?
I guess so. For someone like me, this inner emptiness is all there is — if all you care about is slapping genitals and paying for it.
Maybe if I was more younger, more open, more flexible, and more lonely, I would have welcomed Yui’s offer to “relax” beforehand with her.
I would have lay next to Yui in bed, playing video games on her phone together. We would be laughing together, chatting, and feeling more connected – at least for that moment.
No.
It’s not meant to be.
It’s just not possible for an old, self-absorbed farang and a young tiny whore to ever meaningfully connect.
Me and Yui have finished dressing, and it’s time for payment.
I gleefully give Yui her 1,000 baht.
“No tip?” she asks.
I hesitate, and then reluctantly give her 100 baht. Yui is very happy.
I leave O bar and walk back down the soi.
I pass by Horny bar and sheepishly walk past “Chili.” She’s calling out and waving to me eagerly, along with all her co-workers.
Regrettably, Chili’s ST service is sub-par. Sorry young babe, no repeat.
But I must return soon to Soi 6.
I’m on another new quest: Pussy hunting for the lost spinner from La La Land. I will not rest easy until I find her!
It’s a never-ending story.
How long more can this go on?