Bangkok Naked: Now and Then Page 2

  I make no apologies for the following content being graphic at times, this is no sanitised book or a fictional account.

  It is a real-life journal of what went on in 1980, when a number of young guys were let loose with some of the world’s most beautiful women - this is “Bangkok Naked”!

  For younger readers or those with a more delicate disposition, it might be wise to look for one of those twee guide books on Bangkok, full of colour pictures of temples and floating markets.

  You will not find this type of stuff within these pages.

  To be honest, I have enjoyed doing some of the tourist things myself at times in the past. Thailand is a fascinating country with a rich history and has plenty to see, but my priority in these early vists was getting to grips with as many attractive LBGs as possible.

  Let’s face it, I can do the cultural thing when I am old enough to get a telegram from the Queen and that ton of Viagra is no longer working….

  So, come with me and let’s time travel back to the early eighties.

  After showering, shaving, splashing on some cologne and stuffing a fistful of baht in our pockets, we can now hit the town in pursuit of some quality action - Bangers waits for no man or woman.

  Let’s do this thing…….

  THE CAST OF THE MAIN PLAYERS

  Just so you readers have a rough picture in your mind of the leading characters, I thought it might be useful to do a brief resume of the cast of the 1980 Bangkok Pussy Hounds Team:

  PAUL (THE PRESIDENT) MARTIN

  Having worked in senior positions in the travel industry both in the UK and overseas for many years, PM was a long-term veteran of many Far East outings in search of female perfection.

  Tall at around 6’ 2’, very slim and always smartly dressed with stylish thin long sleeved shirts, pressed tropical weight trousers, sheer silk socks and lightweight slip-on shoes. Paul was rarely seen without a leather “clutch” bag containing the essentials of life in Thailand, which included a packet of St. Moritz cigarettes complete with a pirated copy of a Cartier lighter, hotel keys, camera and a handful of small denomination baht notes to kindly and selflessly donate to any attractive girl in need he came across (in more ways than one..).

  Suave and urbane, PM was great company and having an interest in many things, could be relied on to always make intelligent and well informed conversation.

  Mr. Martin was our mentor for all those early nineteen eighties trips to the Land of Suds and in this book, appears under the various monikers of Paul, PM or The President.

  Why the President?

  Well, on our first trip to the Far East due to his involvement in the travel trade, he got upgraded in one hotel in Manilla to the Presidential Suite and the title stuck!

  GRAHAM (FLASH) GORDON

  The Flashman was the polar opposite to our leader.

  I met Khun Gordon a couple of years earlier when the two of were the only “pet poms” in a couple of Australasian flats in a building in Kensington Church Street. As the only none Aussies or Kiwis there, we quickly became good mates.

  At six foot, he stood around a couple of inches shorter than Paul. The problem was that the lad also approached the same dimensions around the waist…..

  Graham had freckles and a mess of curly red hair which was cut in a long style, although he hated to be called a ginge and would tell anyone who would listen or even those who did not, that he was a “Strawberry Blond” – whatever that was!

  Our tubby hero tended to look like he had slept in his clothes, which in many cases was probably true.

  Being a junior partner in a firm of overpriced London commercial solicitors, Flash always had a few bob to spend and displayed an impressive total lack of morals or discernment when it came to women, food or drink. To give him credit, he was often generous to his mates and could certainly take a joke, which was just as well in his case.

  For someone with good academic qualifications, Mr. Gordon was daft enough to go looking for trouble and usually found it in spades.

  Loud, sometimes obscene, with the a brain the size of a caterpillar’s arsehole and the rampant sex drive of a rabbit on heat - what is there not to like?

  In fact, these were Khun Graham’s best features.

  So all in all, perfect qualities for membership of The Bangkok Pussy Hounds.

  “DIAMOND” JACK HUGHES

  My name is Jack Hughes, so why “Diamond”?

  It is a long story that originates in Thailand, but perhaps better not to ask or this book will go on for ever!

  Best pals with the above two delinquents, I both lived and worked in London in travel publishing.

  In my twenties and standing roughly the same height as Flash, (but luckily without the ever-expanding girth) with longish brown untrimmed hair and at that time sporting a beard, I certainly needed a bit of guidance from PM in the Far Eastern dressing stakes!

  One my first vist to the far east and having turned up with a suitcase full of UK winter gear, I quickly realised that in a pavement melting climate smart, light casual attire was the way to go to avoid terminal heat exhaustion.

  After stocking up with local “designer label” kit in the back streets of Bangkok, this made life more comfortable in the crippling heat and seemed to go down well with the Thai female population too.

  What more could you ask for?

  IMPORTANT LEGAL DISCLAMER

  All the characters appearing in this book are real, non-fictitious and sadly as bad as they are portrayed.

  The only thing changed is a few names, to save the perpetrators both embarrassment and possible much deserved criminal proceedings!

  Unlike some books in this genre, everything that is described in these following pages really happened and any similarity to persons alive or dead is completely intentional – those of you with a nervous disposition you have been warned.

  CHAPTER ONE

  FEBRUARY 1980

  A BIG THAI SURPRISE

  As I reclined in my hotel room and lying prostrate across on my giant bed, I must admit to a touch of smugness when my oriental vision of loveliness appeared from the shower. She was nearly wearing my impossibly short Thai silk dressing gown which unhappily just covered her modesty by a whisker.

  I had bought that bathrobe in question at the night bazaar in downtown Bangkok a few days earlier and it certainly looked better filled with her ample curves, then trying to cover my six-foot frame. This was a garment which was made for LBGs not your average six foot farang.

  At best, the garment barely came down to just under my armpits - I have had wider belts in my wardrobe home.

  If only the lads at work back in England could see me now I thought, as the little sweetheart suggestively swayed towards me.

  She had smooth, long brown legs right up to her armpits, model looks, big boobs and mass of long shiny hair that cascaded down to caress her shapely bum.

  (I cannot say that last phrase without thinking of the comment made by a famous blues singer, “beautiful black hair all down her back, mind you, I would have preferred it on her head!)

  Strange how silly, abstract phrases like this come into your mind at the most inappropriate times.

  Times don’t come more inappropriate that this, as Miss Bangkok looked at me with those sultry eyes as though I was the centre of her universe and for a few special minutes I kidded myself that I was.

  One of the things that really stands out for me, in addition to the obvious with these young Thai girls, is the almost uniform fantastic skin quality. We had been on the pussy hunt in the kingdom for a week now and to put it bluntly all our team have put themselves around a bit.

  Being a novice, I was amazed at the skin texture of every member of the female sex that “yours truly” has come across (another poor of words), but you know what I mean.

  choice It may sound like a worn out cliché, but the best way to describe this physical feature would be to compare it to the feel of a ripe peach which is smooth, warm, soft and sil
ky.

  Most of their female western counterparts would kill for a natural complexion like it.

  Forget overpriced cosmetics, you don’t get this texture out of an expensive bottle it is in Asian girl’s DNA, they are born with it in spades.

  My humble nutritional advice is, if you want to eat a healthy diet try snacking on a Thai Massage Parlour Worker or Go Go Bar Girl. It beats the hell out of the fruit and veg department of your local supermarket and does not cost that much more to feast on their natural attributes for your five-a-day.

  With a mega pair of melons approaching and within easy reach and I was looking forward to nibbling on them in the very near future and improving my Vitamin C levels.

  As far as LBGs were concerned, Pang was a classic case in point.

  I found her half an hour ago in a small soi just off Sukumvit Road, while trying to locate my lost partners in crime. I last saw the dynamic duo of The President and Flash who at that time were heading for some dubious beer garden, just before we got separated in the crowds.

  Actually, to be really accurate, Pang found me.

  In this town, there is no doubt that trouble comes looking for you. I was just innocently heading back to my hotel along the Sukumvit Road when this little stunner virtually walked into me.

  She was turning heads all along the crowded pavements, which was in stark contrast to some of my previous UK girlfriends who were more likely to be turning stomachs.

  Tall for a Thai girl and wearing an impossibly tight red dress that left “naff all” to the imagination and complete with a matching sheer silk scarf around her slender neck, Pang had flowing curves in all the right places.

  After colliding, our eyes met across a crowded pavement. She hooked her arm quickly into mine and suggested we go back to my room for a bout of nocturnal delights.

  Well, I had to give that proposition both careful and lengthy thought for at least two seconds, I did want her to think us Brits are an easy bunch with low morals!

  After a quick bout of haggling while the lady in question was gently stroking Little Jack who stood to attention, the randy little sod. We agreed a fee of a thousand baht for “long time”, so it was a done deal.

  I mean twenty quid for a girl who could grace the cover of Vogue magazine for a full night of passion, just has to be a steal.

  Back home in London, my good mate Graham Gordon and I spent more than that on a few overpriced drinks in some trendy Kings Road wine bar, without even getting so much as a “knee trembler” from the local Sloane Rangers. Who all to be frank, looked like a load of donkeys compared to what was on offer everywhere on a Bangkok Friday night.

  Since we arrived, it was noticeable that these Thai girls must be the cleanest race in the world they are always showering, it is amazing they don’t go rusty.

  Pang was no exception and after diving into my bathroom as soon as we got back to base, the lady walked out like a supermodel on the catwalk.

  My current companion took off the shower cap, shook her shiny long hair free and started to giggle as she gently stroked the top of my leg. This particular young lady had that beautiful smile so typical of certain Asian women, which was an attribute that I would become more familiar with in future

  After putting her tongue down my throat; (I thought Pang was trying to crawl right in there at one point) her expert manipulation of my willing nether regions continued apace.

  This went down well (literally) with “Little Jack” who was by now standing proud again, even though he had seen more action in the last week than in the previous year.

  The little fella was a bit pink around the edges from both excessive use and too much soapy water, but my newly found girlfriend expertly helped him escape from captivity of my increasingly too tight, boxer shorts.

  The delightful Khun Pang then proceeded to give the best and most sensuous blow job, I had ever had up to that time. Her luxurious hair cascaded in a tent around my privates and tickled my stomach and chest.

  She seemed to know just how to find every nerve ending, so it was difficult not to be a bit quick on the trigger when you are being worked over by a girl that could suck a tennis ball through a hose.

  The old excuse “it went off while I was cleaning it” came to mind……

  The dressing gown was now down to Pang’s slim waist exposing a spectacular pair of fun bags. It looked like they may have had a little artificial help in the past, but you would not hear me complain. I never paid much attention to science lessons at school, but these brown puppies defied Newton’s Theory of Gravity. In fact, this was a law of physics that does not seem to apply to many Bangkok bargirl’s boobs.

  If Pang had been unlucky enough to be aboard the Titanic when it hit an iceberg, this girl would be able to keep all the passengers afloat without difficulty. They would certainly not drown with these buoyancy aids holding them high in the water.

  I mean, who needs a lifeboat with norks like that to cling to?

  Her large brown nipples stood up like chapel hat pegs and every time I sucked on one and rolled it around my mouth, she groaned and wriggled on the bed.

  Things were just getting better and better.

  Then Pang stood up and demurely turned her back on me, dropping the gown to the floor with practised ease.

  I rather ungallantly muttered “Wow – what an arse!” as my partner in crime, slowly disrobed like a stripper on a rowdy stag night.

  She looked as good from the rear as full frontal and the idea of some doggy position action was definitely on the agenda here.

  It was only when the little stunner unhurriedly turned around smiling and displaying her full charms that things went a bit pear shaped (or should I say penis shaped?)

  Now, I am not the sharpest knife in the box.

  In fact, some would say I was very unobservant by nature, but my darling Pang appeared to have something she should not have had. There between her legs was “Little Jack’s” bigger brother, erect and ready for action.

  Slow or not, it dawned on me with sickening inevitability that I had just invested 1000 baht in a Ladyboy.

  “Bollocks” I muttered under my breath (which was exactly what I was looking at). This was my first painful lesson, that things in Asia are not always what they seem on first impressions.

  What happened next?

  Well, it was not one of life’s great love stories, but I did not want to waste twenty quid and it was also getting late to get a full female replacement. Let’s put it this way, this girl could get a job in the circus doing a sword swallowing act, no probs, so it was not a totally wasted night.

  Now on this trip, our little team had an ongoing competition and the rules were simple.

  Basically, we all brought any LBG staying the night down to breakfast first thing (at the crack of midday) for the rest of the team members to award points.

  Whichever one of us won the contest with the best score, they got a free soapy massage later that very day paid for by the two losers.

  But I decided in Pang’s case to play for safety.

  To be fair, after putting on her make up and restyling her hair the following morning she looked good enough to eat (again)….

  But I just patted her shapely bum before sending the lady off home, before headed downstairs alone to get outside a breakfast chicken satay in the hotel cafeteria.

  Those lads might be hung over, but I reckon even my gang might have got a bit suspicious when my latest girlfriend went to the gents for a leak…

  CHAPTER ONE

  JANUARY 2017

  I reckon the” healthy food advice” from 1980 is still good.

  Having a succulent LBG is still more fun than your official quota of fruit and veg and has to be the way to get your vitamins naturally. No sure about five a day, but if you have the money and stamina and fancy winning the Queen’s Award for Industry - go for it.

  It sure beats the hell out of these “you are, what you eat” type programmes on your 48” Plasma screen back at h
ome.

  Looking back, I can see where this little episode all went a bit wrong.

  Hindsight is a great thing, but Pang’s height coupled with the scarf and those deep sexy, husky tone should have rung warning bells long before getting down to any sexual gymnastics.

  It is a little embarrassing to travel thousands of miles with the prime objective of playing “doctors + nurses” with as many attractive girls as possible and end up bedding a bloke in a dress by mistake.

  That is probably not a completely accurate picture of the Third Sex as they are they called in Thailand and I always see them as a men’s mind in a female form, often with a few things extra added…

  As far as ladyboys are concerned, the first question you have to ask is, are you trying to avoid them or meet one?

  If the first option is for you, there are a few things you can do to try and make sure that beautiful little honey you have brought back home has no surprise packages taped up and hidden away in her knickers.

  It would obviously be sensible to give some of the renowned ladyboy bars in Soi Cowboy and Nana Plaza a miss but it gets a bit more confusing in places that have both bargirls and kaytoeys on the staff.

  Which seems increasingly common recently, especially in the Nana area.

  I reckon 95% of fully clothed ladyboys have a number of giveaway signs, such as height, lower voices, bigger hands and shoulders and a more prominent Adams apple (although there are operations available to reduce this) but what about the other five percent?

  This can be a bit more difficult, as the very best can look stunning and feminine even to the most heterosexual male on the planet.

  Paul told me after my first up-close and personal encounter with the lovely Pang, that if the pretty girl you are chatting to has immaculate make-up and dress sense, regularly looks in the mirror and constantly flicks her hair; you have probably got a chick with a dick!