Not long ago I highlighted a reader’s comment – in two parts – in which he told the story of his first time visit to Soi Twilight, by posting it as an article rather than just as a comment to a post I’d written. It was an entertainingly written tale and much more interesting than whatever it was I’d originally thought about posting that day. Its appeal was twofold: for old hands it stirred pleasant memories from years gone by; for newbies it was instructional, another view of what to expect upon entering Bangkok’s gogo bar world for the first time. Posting that reader’s story was not intended as the beginning of a new recurring category for this blog.
Andi, who has been sharing his story of not only his first visit but the subsequent one too as comments to various posts began his tale before that one came in. His too provides a good example of one man’s inaugural experience with the bar boys of Bangkok. I didn’t/haven’t posted his as an article, but thinking about it now should go back and dig those out. I love reading about other’s experiences, it’s why I first began reading the message boards. At one time those type of tales were common. Nowadays, not so much. I mean I’m glad you had a wonderful time in Thailand, but a trip report that is nothing more but a long list of orgasms bought and paid for is a bit boring. Nice for you that you offed a bar boy who had a massive cock, but it does little to add to the record. Even if it did add another notch to your bed post.
Now, fresh off the press, comes another first timer’s tale, this one about Tawan. It too was submitted as a comment. But it’s an engagingly told tale and humorously written to boot. Even though the writer makes that annoying British error of inserting an S into words that are supposed to have a Z. Despite that petty annoyance, there’s wisdom here too. “It’s not what you pay; it’s whether you consider you’ve gotten the value from the expense” sums up the entire issue of how much? succinctly. I’ve always felt that attitude plays a much mor significant role in whether your time spent in the bars and with the guys is a success or not. Whether it is your first or 500th visit. And it sounds like Caleb’s introduction to Tawan was quite the success:
Gentlemen, each of our experiences (above) differ, but each comes down to (a) the bar on the night, (b) communication and (c) the attitude with which one approaches both sides of the baht. I love muscle, I love smooth, brown skin. Put the two together and I chose Tawan as a starting point for getting ‘Soi’led. As well, having the sort of guide that says, “Go on, swim.” and then tells you where the deep end is and how deep, what could I do but test the scenario? Herewith two nights.
Background: on my way to BKK I purchased some of what I consider ’General Reading’ magazines: DNA magazine, OUT magazine and a body-building magazine. I also had travelled Business Class where they hand out those little packs with eye-shades and toothbrushes in them.
So, given all the parameters studded within the First-timers Guide I – V, I managed to choose a hotel close to a bar that stocked my predilection, reconnoitre the area during the day while the bars were closed, counted the streets from A to B, noted the landmarks to and fro, filled my wallet with an estimation based on the Guide and then buggered off to have a manicure.
The hotel I chose had a promotion that gave – among other things – a voucher to a male-only beauty salon which comprised a free facial, manicure and pedicure. I hadn’t shaved, so I thought the facial was out until I mentioned it to the non-English speaking Thai apprentice who queried my comments with the manager. Can do – they did shaves! Heaven. One more thing to cross off my must-do list. So I had a manicure, a pedicure, a man shave me (such a sexy feeling, so sleek) and a facial (with a limb massage as this-and-that was waiting to dry), all for B600 / $10. I’m staying here again! I gave the guy that dealt with my peripheries and the guy that did the facial and massage B300 / $5 each, for which they pled their troth for eternity. Do you remember the opening scenes from Liasons Dangeroux, where John Malkovich wakes and dresses for his meeting with Glenn Close? Same same but different: I went in at three and floated out at just before eight. I was in the zone.
Then to the Tawan, my go-go bar of choice, a block away. I followed the First-timers Guide as closely as I could remember:
Tipped the captain [x],
didn’t stop and gawk [x],
sat nonchalantly and smiled at all and sundry [x],
bought drinks for them as the ‘boys’ turned up at the table [x],
didn’t wave anyone away [x].
agreed to shout the three best boys to dinner [x]
apologised to a fourth, but said I’d be back tomorrow night [x]
convivially told them to order what they wanted [x]
went back to the hotel room and chatted [x]
bought out the muscle mag [triumph!]
I explained en route that the night would not necessarily involve sex. Well, Foucault me if their jaws didn’t drop when I said that I just wanted to chill and talk. “But what about sex?”, they each said to each other and then to me. “We can’t go back to the [go-go bar] now! We’re full and sleepy. Sure you don’t want something from us?” (Thinks: No, lads, but you are now under my Nice Guy spell. I’ll see you all tomorrow night.) Sex would have ruined the moment of having three body builders on my bed and unmasked me for the cad I am; tomorrow night runs to a different script.
I ended up gaining face by not wanting head; I ogled, touched through clothes while comparing with the magazine, had a jolly chat about where we’d been (none of us from Bangkok: one Isan Thai, one Yunnan Thai and one very, very, very cute English-speaking Lao boy… well, men – all of them), then they left intact and new best friends; they’ll relay all this to their buddies at the bar. I have laid the groundwork for another night that will be much more visceral.
It’s not what you pay; it’s whether you consider you’ve gotten the value from the expense.
As predicated in the First Timers’ Guide, I was hailed upon entry to Tawan last night, except that I turned up before 8PM, their clock-on time (literally – they have to bundy on). I wanted to see the befores and the afters. And I did, muscle lads playing dominoes, smoking, pumping up on equipment and caffeine, all dressed. I was welcomed by the captain, met by the boys from the previous night with out-stretched hands which they avoided by hugging me instead. (Fine by me). I had a drink, explained to the lads that I would be dining alone and acquainting myself with the area before returning at a decent time. They begged that I let them walk with me.
(Lesson: the boys would rather not be on stage.)
So, into the night . . .
I just ushered three straight body builders from my hotel room after a mutually negotiated and mutually satisfying sex session. I tried to run a dignified show, but then these boys took over and four men got off in their own time and in their own way, with no-one’s borders being crossed nor dignity compromised. (For study purposes, each of them was well to very well endowed, and this from what amounts to a random sampling.) Towels and pillows everywhere, but boys are such slobs. I paid each the base rate of B2000 plus another 1000 under various pretexts, so $100 each for a full-on fantasy scenario. Going out drinking with them tomorrow night – to their places. I know one will come back with me, and he’s beautiful. I have a handful of dreams a-comin’.
I’m keeping the complementary toiletries bag for another slim young thing I found at Nature Boys. (What? I was a Boy Scout – be prepared. And know your market.)
Not bad for a first-timer, methinks.
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