Dispatches from a South-East Asian Hellhole, part three
There I was, stoned on the beach. The music was booming, but the punters were outnumbered by ladies trying to sell body-painting and massages, and guys trying to shift fake ecstasy pills. Every turn, instead of offering a scene of unbridled decadence, was the everyday scene of someone trying to sell you something that was either temporary or fake, and usually both, for way more than it was worth.
Then there she was, sitting next me, grabbing my arm. I turned, somewhat awakened from my stupor, to see a local girl. Everything was spinning, but I didn’t recall her even then, and I’d come to the beach party alone. Who was she? What did she want? Soon enough it was clear, since it took less than two minutes from first encounter to a hand on my balls. Tiring of the party scene and the fact I had sand in my asscrack, I took this as a good a sign as any that it was time enough to be leaving. I stumbled off into the crowd, fighting off three would-be drug dealers and a face-painting, to find my shoes. They were where I’d left them earlier in the night, in such high hopes of a good time, but like everything here, the hype machine and native skill for hollowing out the middle of all things good and profitable has turned it into a husk of former glory, all while appearing completely intact.
The girl was still attached to my arm. Suspicious enough of her intentions, but out of my mind to the point where it didn’t register, I made her hold my shoes while I tried to remember where my bag was. Another loop of the beach and I remembered it was right near where my shoes had been. Back we went and then it was time to leave.
Stumbling off into the dark, she said some things to me, question like things, and it didn’t cross my mind as to why she would care where I was staying. A dirt-hole down the other end of the island, I told her. And my bike? Yes, I have a bike. How did you know? This last question was met with a confused smile. Bless her, she doesn’t understand. I groped around in the dark for a few minutes, trying the key in the ignition of every bike that looked like the same colour as mine. Eventually I was sure I had the right one, but the key didn’t work. Mystified, I looked around and she was still there. I half wondered why she was still following me, there were surely plenty of other dudes still partying down. She came over and put the key in.
Why the fuck do you have that? How the fuck did she get it? When? Jesus, I probably should have clicked then and there. We got on the bike and I drove drunkenly out onto the main road, over the dirt and sand track, swerving around palm trees. I wobbled about a kilometre down the road and she told me to stop, we’d better go to her place. Better invitations don’t come often.
Her place was a hundred metres away. In the door and she already had her clothes off, fast followed by an attempt to get mine on the floor too. Unobjecting and still with a mind full of clouds, I lay back and let her get to the heart of the matter. Drunken fumbling and necking turned into the more hardcore equivalent, and then onto even more penetrating variants on the theme; I’d go into detail but you know, I am a gentleman.
Intoxication can have a negative effect on activities of this kind and before I was ready to call it a night and leave, she was dry. There would be no fixing this, so I took the task to hand and furiously so, pulling her head and body into a more receiving position. The violence of this action no doubt took her by surprise and she accepted it with a startled yet welcoming grace, and encouraged my efforts. I re-doubled them, and soon enough the explosion came.
All over her. I won’t ever forget the surprised shock of her squeal, much like when someone cutting a citrus fruit get juice squirting into their eye. And into her eyes I came, and her nose and mouth. All down her chest, it just kept coming. She tried to push away from me but I held her with my free arm until I was down unloading. I caught a glimpse of her as I fell to the side and before my momentary unconsciousness overcame me, I saw she had her mouth tightly shut and both her eyes closed.
Into the bathroom she stumbled, blinded by my seed. I roused to the sound of the shower as she hosed it all off. I took my chance now to wipe my dick clean on her pillow and get dressed. I was halfway out the door when she comes flying, naked and wet, out of the bathroom and squealing, you give me money now! Two thousand! And to this I laughed, and gave her a plaintive, ‘no’. I saw her eyes were still half closed, and she hit the corner of the bed and nearly tripped over. One thousand, she cried as she regained her balance. No, I already paid enough, catch you later.
I slammed the door and was on my bike and up the road before I realised the sun was already up. I laughed to myself as I drove, wobbled, down the road to my hovel, finally, I win for once. I never saw her around the island again, nor would I recall her face if I did, and I didn’t even get her name.
Then there she was, sitting next me, grabbing my arm. I turned, somewhat awakened from my stupor, to see a local girl. Everything was spinning, but I didn’t recall her even then, and I’d come to the beach party alone. Who was she? What did she want? Soon enough it was clear, since it took less than two minutes from first encounter to a hand on my balls. Tiring of the party scene and the fact I had sand in my asscrack, I took this as a good a sign as any that it was time enough to be leaving. I stumbled off into the crowd, fighting off three would-be drug dealers and a face-painting, to find my shoes. They were where I’d left them earlier in the night, in such high hopes of a good time, but like everything here, the hype machine and native skill for hollowing out the middle of all things good and profitable has turned it into a husk of former glory, all while appearing completely intact.
The girl was still attached to my arm. Suspicious enough of her intentions, but out of my mind to the point where it didn’t register, I made her hold my shoes while I tried to remember where my bag was. Another loop of the beach and I remembered it was right near where my shoes had been. Back we went and then it was time to leave.
Stumbling off into the dark, she said some things to me, question like things, and it didn’t cross my mind as to why she would care where I was staying. A dirt-hole down the other end of the island, I told her. And my bike? Yes, I have a bike. How did you know? This last question was met with a confused smile. Bless her, she doesn’t understand. I groped around in the dark for a few minutes, trying the key in the ignition of every bike that looked like the same colour as mine. Eventually I was sure I had the right one, but the key didn’t work. Mystified, I looked around and she was still there. I half wondered why she was still following me, there were surely plenty of other dudes still partying down. She came over and put the key in.
Why the fuck do you have that? How the fuck did she get it? When? Jesus, I probably should have clicked then and there. We got on the bike and I drove drunkenly out onto the main road, over the dirt and sand track, swerving around palm trees. I wobbled about a kilometre down the road and she told me to stop, we’d better go to her place. Better invitations don’t come often.
Her place was a hundred metres away. In the door and she already had her clothes off, fast followed by an attempt to get mine on the floor too. Unobjecting and still with a mind full of clouds, I lay back and let her get to the heart of the matter. Drunken fumbling and necking turned into the more hardcore equivalent, and then onto even more penetrating variants on the theme; I’d go into detail but you know, I am a gentleman.
Intoxication can have a negative effect on activities of this kind and before I was ready to call it a night and leave, she was dry. There would be no fixing this, so I took the task to hand and furiously so, pulling her head and body into a more receiving position. The violence of this action no doubt took her by surprise and she accepted it with a startled yet welcoming grace, and encouraged my efforts. I re-doubled them, and soon enough the explosion came.
All over her. I won’t ever forget the surprised shock of her squeal, much like when someone cutting a citrus fruit get juice squirting into their eye. And into her eyes I came, and her nose and mouth. All down her chest, it just kept coming. She tried to push away from me but I held her with my free arm until I was down unloading. I caught a glimpse of her as I fell to the side and before my momentary unconsciousness overcame me, I saw she had her mouth tightly shut and both her eyes closed.
Into the bathroom she stumbled, blinded by my seed. I roused to the sound of the shower as she hosed it all off. I took my chance now to wipe my dick clean on her pillow and get dressed. I was halfway out the door when she comes flying, naked and wet, out of the bathroom and squealing, you give me money now! Two thousand! And to this I laughed, and gave her a plaintive, ‘no’. I saw her eyes were still half closed, and she hit the corner of the bed and nearly tripped over. One thousand, she cried as she regained her balance. No, I already paid enough, catch you later.
I slammed the door and was on my bike and up the road before I realised the sun was already up. I laughed to myself as I drove, wobbled, down the road to my hovel, finally, I win for once. I never saw her around the island again, nor would I recall her face if I did, and I didn’t even get her name.
