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Stay In Bed Sunday #13
25 Sunday Mar 2012
Posted It's A Gay World, Stay In Bed Sundays
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25 Sunday Mar 2012
Posted It's A Gay World, Stay In Bed Sundays
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24 Saturday Mar 2012
Posted End of the Week, It's A Gay World
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24 Saturday Mar 2012
Posted It's A Gay World, Smells Like Science
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It’s a good thing this blog is written and not verbal or, evidently, many of you would never hear what I have to say. Though come to think about it, that might not be such a bad thing. Hearing, one of man’s five senses, tends to become problematic as we age. A loss of hearing is not unusual, to some degree, as we stumble into our golden years. For some, it is a real medical condition, for others it is nothing more than a disinterest in what the world has to say. But then it turns out for many it’s because they’ve tuned into the benefits that modern day medicine can bring to their life. Many older men are exchanging their sense of hearing for the sense of touch. If you find yourself asking others to speak up more and more often these days, it may be due to those little blue pills you’ve been popping to get something else up.
And yup, it smells like science to me.
According to a study published in Archives of Otolaryngology-Head and Neck Surgery, there is an association between hearing loss and the use of the erectile dysfunction drug Viagra. ”It appears from these findings that the current government warning regarding hearing loss and the use of PDE-5i medications is warranted,” said study author Gerald McGwin, Ph.D., a professor of epidemiology in the UAB School of Public Health. “Though there are limitations to this study, it is prudent that patients using these medications be warned about the signs and symptoms of hearing impairment and be encouraged to seek immediate medical attention to potentially forestall permanent damage.”
And you thought a raging hard-on that won’t go away was the only side effect to be concerned of.
McGwin examined data on 11,525 men over 40 years of age. He found that those who reported use of the little blue pill were twice as likely to also report hearing loss as were men who had not used the drug. McGwin said the relationship was strongest for men who used Viagra. Those using Cialis or Levitra to help them get up for the task showed an elevated but not statistically significant increase in hearing loss.
The study, the first to look at risks of long-term use of ED drugs, found that men who take Viagra are twice as likely to experience hearing loss. The experts believe the reason for this increase in hearing loss is due to the drug’s ability to increase blood flow. Originally developed to increase blood flow to and through the heart, then to increase blood flow to the penis, Viagra also increases blood flow throughout the body. It doesn’t selectively increase blood flow in certain parts of the body and subsequently may also increase blood flow to the ears, which may actually damage parts of the auditory system. But then as long as you don’t lose your sense of taste, who really cares?
Hearing loss is a quality of life issue, just like a healthy love life. Health professionals recommend those who consider taking Viagra talk to their doctor to weigh the pros and cons, and balancing the cons of hearing loss against a less active and fulfilling love life. If you don’t like what your doctor recommends, pop another blue pill and act like you can’t hear him. And keep in mind that a sudden inability to hear when your boy du jour asks for taxi money ain’t necessarily a bad thing either.
23 Friday Mar 2012
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Joseph de Maistre, the French moralist, philosopher, lawyer, and diplomat observed that “Every nation has the government which it is fit for.” A hundred years later, Robert F, Kennedy added to that aphorism, “What is equally true is that every community gets the kind of law enforcement it insists on.” Both sentiments hold true no more so than when applied to Thailand. The strangeness of Thai politics – which seems to be all about what color of T-shirt you wear – and the uncertainty in the Westerner mind over the treatment they will receive if forced to deal with the Boy in Brown is due to the vast difference between our cultures. The Thai government, regardless of which party is currently in power, works well for the Thai people. We shouldn’t try to understand it. To our way of thinking, it is incomprehensible. And as for dealing with the local version of law enforcement: just know that some baht will always put justice on your side.
This week all of the gay Thailand message boards carried threads about a raid on Hero massage in Bangkok stemming from a rather short article in the Bangkok Post. The usual suspects quickly weighed in on the reasons behind the raid, offering the Westerner version of law enforcement logic coupled with the Thai version of law enforcement that almost always has to do with money exchanging hands. It was a microcosm of the news agencies of the west covering the red shirt protests a few years ago. Not being Thai, they never quite got it right. They used a non-Thai mindset to explain what was happening and why. And failed miserably in doing so.
When you are raised in a nation of laws, it is almost impossible to comprehend the workings of a nation that views laws as a convenience; it’s convenient to pull them out when they bolster your side of an issue, convenient to ignore them when they don’t. In the west we say ‘laws were made to be broken.’ Thais would only wonder why you’d bother to break something so insignificantly unimportant in the first place.
It’s one of the many paradoxes you run across in Thailand. Cultural and societal norms govern every waking minute of Thai life. What we as Westerners might balk at passes without question in Thailand. No one asks why. All that is required is to know that this is how things are done in Thailand. Everyone knows their place. Everyone knows what is expected of them in any given situation. And no one goes against the grain. And yet rules – actual laws – are viewed more as guidelines. Compliance is optional. At best. It’s enough to drive a farang bonkers. And if a farang is foolish enough to actually drive . . .
“Because I Thai” is an often used bit of reasoning employed by Noom, my bar boy friend and current love of my life. Whatever the subject, whatever the question, his Thainess supersedes all other considerations. That’s second only to “In Thailand we . . .” That one he pulls out to disapprove of whatever it is that the rest of the world holds to be true. I especially appreciate that usage when he’s instructing me on the correct use of English. That English happens to be my native language matters not. Thais know better. Because they are Thai.
Noom is at his most Thai when it comes to societal rules. Not the ones meant to govern the country. Those are of only minor interest and can be dispensed with whenever necessary, or even just for the hell of it. But the unwritten ones, the ones every Thai knows and no farang can ever understand, are of the utmost importance. Like most Thais he’s very forgiving of Westerners who don’t ‘get’ Thailand. Like most Thais when it comes to the little observances that Thai know about and Westerners screws up with abandon, he finds our antics amusing. Thais tend to view us as children. Slow ones at that. No reason to get upset when farang misbehave, they just don’t any know better. But let a Thai ignore one of those rules and you’d think the guy just killed someone. Except of course if the offense was an actual murder, then, well, there probably was a good reason for it anyway.
Societal rules and customs are not unique to Thailand. Though those of Thailand are unique to the world. Years ago in preparing a series of lectures about community rules, enforcement, and compliance I ran across an applicable section in a book by M. Scott Peck. He was explaining the difference between laws and the daily rules we live by, and the differences in how we comply with the two. He used as an example a four way corner, an intersection where traffic crossed from all four directions.
In a small community where everyone knows everyone else, all drivers hitting that intersection would stop and then take turns going through. Not because of any laws that may be on the books, but because of community standards. Peer pressure at a community level would keep everyone in line. Plowing through the intersection without regard of your neighbors would result in some degree of ostracization within the community. Bad dog!
Put up stop signs and legislate a requirement that all drivers stop and then allow the car who first arrived at the intersection to proceed before you changes the dynamic. It’s no longer society, but government that dictates how drivers should act. And perhaps not surprisingly, you then need some form of law enforcement because where before no one would dare break the societal rule, now that it was a law . . . well, rules are made to be broken.
Of course part of that is at first you are dealing with a small community. A village if you will. As that community grows and expands to city size, its citizens are no longer as tuned into the collective needs of the community. Because there is then a need for them, laws replace societal rules. And with laws comes the need for enforcement. What’s that have to do with Thailand? It is still a nation of villages. Even in Bangkok. It still operates under societal rules. Laws, and the Boys In Brown, are an anomaly. And enforcement then, is bent to custom rather than used to apply the law.
What’s that got to do with Noom? Ask him. He’d tell you, “Because I Thai.”
Another recent topic on all of the Gay Thailand message boards reminded me of his moral compass that reveres cultural rules and disregards the laws, often at the same time. HRH Princess Bejaratana died last July. Her funeral will be held the second week of April. In observance of the solemn occasion, nightlife establishments will be closed. You can imagine how well that sits with the sexpat and sex tourist of Thailand. And it’s not the typical one day holiday prohibition against alcohol, but a three-day total closure of their lives. Westerner bar owners are anxiously awaiting official word on the closures, expecting as is the norm that official word will come down a day or two in advance. Instead of checking with their lawyers, they should stop any Thai on the street and ask. Because it is not about laws, it’s about societal rules. And any dummy knows when a royal is buried the nation comes to a respectful halt.
I too spend a lot of my time in Thailand in the bars. But I’d kill to be in Bangkok for the Princess’ funeral observation. I was lucky enough (if I’m not going to hell for using the term luck about someone’s death) to be in Bangkok during the funeral of HRH Princess Galyani Vadhana, the King’s sister. And I was lucky enough to know Noom, who knew of the observance taking place at the Ananta Samakhom Throne Hall. I’ve told that story here before. There was the humorous experience of purchasing appropriately black garments to wear to the event, and the incredible display of art work on view at the hall. I’m sure other farang attended too, but I never saw any of them while we were there. It was a mass of brown faces peaking out of somber colored clothing. What I didn’t write about previously was the souvenir stand.
After filing through the throne hall and then out through large tents where you were suppose to stop and write a personal message to the King in one of thousands of books provided for the purpose, the exit was through an equally massive set of tents filled with official Royal souvenirs for sale. The nation mourned the princess’ death, but there was still money to be made. Or on Noom’s side of the equation, money to be spent. Though I had never heard him mention the princes before, he could not live without a rather large picture of her framed in gold.
I know that purchase wasn’t so much about that particular royal as it was about the Thai societal custom of showing reverence to the Royal family. I don’t think there is any Thai household without at least one picture of the King prominently displayed. Now that his sister is dead, she too has many new homes. Including Noom’s.
I don’t remember how much the picture cost but do remember my surprise that it was such an exiguous amount. I also remember that my obvious surprise over how inexpensive it was only served to clue Noom into the idea that he really should buy some more stuff. I let him look around but quickly made it clear that my wallet was closed for the day. Even then, he tried once more after spotting some small plaster Thai babies. I’ve not seen them since but they are evidently a well-known set of Thai cherubs in a significantly important art form that’s classic Thai. Noom suggested my mother might like them. Right. First, she wouldn’t. Second, I knew that by buying a set for Moms I’d also be agreeing to buying a set for Noom. No foul, we looked around a bit more and then headed out.
We barely made it outside before Noom tapped my shoulder and then opened his hand to show me the set of Thai babies he’d swiped. I was dumbfounded. He giggled, “We no pay!”
I made him take them back.
It’s hard to believe that I consider Noom to be one of the most honest people I’ve ever met. Uh, theft? Hello? Stealing is as wrong in Thailand as it is back home. Everyone would agree with that fact. Except that when you move from principle to the practical, then to a Thai it really depends on who you steal from. Uh, hold your tongue. I have two words for you: Robin Hood.
Theft is a crime. A violation of the law. And laws were made to be broken; in Thailand they are made to be ignored. ‘Because I Thai,’ it really wasn’t stealing. It was redistributing the wealth. Because I’m not Thai, if I’d ripped those little Thai babies off I’d probably still be in prison. Though more likely some large hunks of money would have exchanged hands and I’d be escorted out of the country. So I still feel justified in saying Noom is one of the most honest people I know. It’s just that his moral compass has a different North. One that aligns perfectly with that of his fellow countrymen. The magnetic field goes dead when it is law that is involved. But hits the big N quite emphatically when it is societal rules instead.
I’ve been to Thailand often enough and spent enough time there to avoid making cultural errors. At least the ones I’m allowed to know about. I don’t embarrass Noom often and he’s slowly allowed me to become a known entity to his friends and family, trusting that the things I do and say won’t reflect too badly on him. And all is good with the world. But on top of the Thai rules to live by there are the Noom rules to live by too. And those unchartered waters can make for a treacherous journey.
Noom makes his living as a bar boy, bringing the fantasies of gay men to life. Less PC, he’s a male prostitute. Prostitution, by the way, is illegal in Thailand. But then laws were made to be broken. He views his work as a business. And in his mind, his business has very little to do with sex. The service he provides is about taking care of his customers, not getting them off. He once recounted a story to me about a customer who took him to Singapore. In great detail he told me about all the things he did to take care of the customer, and mentioned a few of the things the customer did to take care of him. Sex was never mentioned. It wasn’t that he was reticent about discussing the sexual aspects of their trip but rather the sex rated so low on his scale of what mattered that it wasn’t worth mentioning. Neither was the tip he received.
In Noom’s mind, there are responsibilities and obligation on both his and his customer’s part. Sex and cash – the two focal points in the transaction to anyone else – have a low priority in the rules he lives by. It would be a misconception to think that this is his way of morally justifying what he does for a living. It’s not. It’s an extension of Thai societal custom fitted to his world. The few times he has complained to me about a customer has always been about the customer’s preoccupation with sex. “Sex, sex, sex, all he want is sex,” he’ll mutter not at all happy with the farang who just doesn’t get it.
I’ve attempted to explain the dynamic to him, that to many customers it is all about sex, but that is like speaking French to a Mexican. It’s not that he doesn’t hear what I am telling him. It’s just that that thought doesn’t fit into his world. Noom’s rules are based on Thai culture and the obligations one person has to another. Sex may be part of that, but is not supposed to be the overarching concern. And having sex in exchange for cash does not bother his moral compass. Focusing on sex to the detriment of other aspects of the transaction does.
Noom’s rules that provide for the greatest amount of conflict is that of Thai on Thai interactions. Noom’s world of rules holds the responsibilities between Thais to a high degree. Those obligations define his world and permeate his daily life. A lot of that is due to known societal rules. With Noom, they are just personified. And in his world they are to be relied upon.
Noom’s relationship with his wallet fascinates me. Almost as much as my wallet fascinates him. Like most guys, he carries his wallet in the back pocket of his pants. The type of casual pants he prefers wearing coupled with his muscular ass results in that pocket gapping open, offering his wallet up to anyone with sticky fingers. I’ve popped it out of his pocket several times without him being aware and then handed it back when he panics, noticing it is gone. He doesn’t think that is funny. But also doesn’t get the point. Because the point is that in Thailand he is perfectly safe wandering around with his wallet hanging out. Noom’s rules state that no Thai would ever pick his pocket. Because I Thai.
Not realizing it was about how Thais treat Thais, I was surprised one day when with a group of farang friends hitting the Weekend Market, Noom took the time just before we entered the crowded aisles to tell, and demonstrate, to the group the need to secure their wallets in their front pockets where they’d be safe. He watched, made sure everyone followed his advice, and then transferred his back to his rear pocket again where it belonged. In Laos, it stayed in his back pocket because Laos is just a suburb of Thailand and the Laotian people are practically relatives. But in both Hong Kong and Vietnam, we’d barely stepped out of the airport before he moved his wallet up front. Thais are cool. But you really can’t trust those damn Chinese.
Smiling in the face of everything is one of Thailand’s societal rules that coincides with Noom’s personal rules. Thailand earned its nickname, The Land of Smiles, thanks to that cultural oddity. Though I suspect whoever came up with the little gem did not realize just how communicative those smiles are. Anyone who has spent time in Thailand knows a Thai’s smile is not necessarily about being happy. It can just as easily be the opposite. I’ve learned to differentiate between a few dozens of Noom’s smiles. And know the ones to watch out for.
But that knowledge has been hard-earned. It has usually come about from me violating a societal rule or one of Noom’s personal rules. At the same time, before the opportunity for one of those to pop up comes along, when I first get into Bangkok and we meet, whether it is on the street, in the hotel’s lobby, or at his bar, the genuinely spontaneous and infectious grin that spreads across his face reminds me of, and gives purpose to, one of my own rules to live by. And that’s a rule that was not made to be broken.
23 Friday Mar 2012
Posted Absolutely Thursdays, iPhone Fridays
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22 Thursday Mar 2012
Posted Absolutely Thursdays, It's A Gay World
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22 Thursday Mar 2012
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Soi Twilight’s barkers are not most visitor’s favorite thing about the street. You’ll hear grumbling about the aggressive touts almost as much as you do about the prices bars charge for a drink. The soi’s barkers are pushy, aggressive, sometimes rude, and generally act like their not-too-distant cousins – the leech, grabbing a hold and sucking the blood out of your very soul. They prey on the weak, take advantage of those new to Bangkok’s soi of male flesh for hire, and generally exhibit the same lack of human characteristics as mamasans.
Personally, I like them. They add energy to the soi and are amusing to watch. Hitting Soi Twilight too early in the evening or on a night when business is dead and the barkers are not exhibiting their normal degree of interest in the fresh meat thrown into their cage just doesn’t seem the same. The excitement isn’t there; the lack of hearing ‘Show Now! Show Now!’ echoing down the street allows the neon lit path promising dream boys, hot males, and X-sizes to take on the tacky, shallow, and slightly scuzzy ambiance that is closer to its reality than the fantasy it relies on to bring in the bucks.
The thing is, the barkers know that they are annoying. But it’s their job. If you take the attitude that the whole thing is just a bit amusing, if you let them know you are in on the joke, they’ll leave you alone. Or at least treat you like a human being. And if you treat them like a person instead of the annoying devil spawn that they are, you’ll find they can be a lot of fun too.
Entering the soi, you pass by Hot Male’s barkers first, usually without knowing you’ve done so. They tend to sit on a stool at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the club, a brown paper bag wrapped around a beer that fools no one, lost in the haze the dozen or so beers they’ve already consumed produced. You may feel a momentary tug on the arm as you pass by X-Boys and Fresh Boys. Slow down and one of their barkers may get in your face. But they know that they can not compete with the crew of touts waiting in front of Dream Boys and give up the chase almost as soon as they’ve started. And it’s that group of barkers repping Dream Boys, Boys Bangkok, and Ocean Boys who have been clamoring for your attention from the minute you appeared on their radar. These are the guys everyone complains about. And yet, they are the ones I’ve come to know and enjoy the most.
There’s a slightly older, short but built barker at Dream Boys who, like many of his compatriots, has been around for years. Whenever my friend Noom and I eat at Dick’s he catches my eye and uses hand gestures to suggest himself as a good choice for a three-way. I laugh, shake my head, and he pouts. It’s a joke. But then I’ve notice that though Noom laughs too, it’s not his ‘that’s funny’ laugh. There’s evidently a bit more truth in that offer than Noom cares for. When I’m on the soi without Noom, he smiles, sometimes gives me a wai, occasionally shakes my hand in greeting, but is otherwise uninterested. One of these days I may have to look into the idea of offing him to join us. It’s not that he does much for me, but I’m intrigued by his interest in Noom.
I have a somewhat related running joke with a barker for Ocean Boys. He too has been around forever and smoothly moved from fronting for Future Boys to being one of Ocean Boys barkers with a slight detour to repping Dream Boys while Future transformed itself. The gaggle of barkers from the two bars tend to mingle and most would not realize they don’t all work for the Dream Boy enterprise. At least not until the potential victim manages to allude the guys from Dream Boys. Because then they become fair game for the Ocean Boys barkers. For several years I teased him for only recognizing me when I was with Noom. When we are on the soi together, he always makes sure to come chat with us for a bit. Alone, he’d rarely notice I was around. But after ribbing him about that for a while he caught on. And then made sure to come talk with me, but would act as though he didn’t know who I was.
“Sawatdeekap, welcome to Bangkok!” he’d greet me as though this was my first trip to Thailand. If I played along, which hating to ruin his fun I usually did, he’d go on to introduce himself, “My name Wit,” and then drop into the typical bar boy litany of where you from, where you stay, how long you stay Bangkok. Though he’d rarely get through the whole thing before dissolving into a fit of giggles. I’ve never claimed the Thai sense of humor actually has anything to do with being funny. But watching them crack themselves up can be amusing.
At some point I moved from acting hurt that Wit only recognized me when Noom was around to suggesting he had a thing for Noom. He laughed. But not unlike Noom’s laugh about the Dream Boys barker, his let on that there was a bit of truth involved. Noom used to work for Future Boys, the two of them worked for the bar at the same time. I’d always thought it strange that Noom referred to him as the ‘boy from Chiang Mai’ rather than by name. Now, that lack of familiarity made sense. Noom makes his living having sex with gay guys. And has no problem being friends with his bar mates who are gay. But the locals who seem to have an interest in him, at least the gay ones, make him a bit uncomfortable.
For a Thai, Wit is tall. He has a slender physique, but more of a swimmers build than the scrawny, underdeveloped street urchin look. He has a smooth almost baby face, and his skin is that slightly peachy shade that many boys from the north tend to have. Like many Thais he has a glorious smile, but his puppy dog eyes add to his appeal and the overall effect is a pleasant one. Even at his most aggressive barkerness there’s still a sweetness about him that is hard to not like. And he has a cute little butt.
But Wit’s a barker, not a bar boy, and the familiar ease of being acquaintances has always made our exchanges mutually enjoyable. And I’d never considered he was gay. So with a emphatic, huh, I filed that interesting little tidbit away and then let him off the hook cracking some dumb joke instead of following up on his discomfort.
On one trip, as I do on most, I spent the first night in town hitting bars, checking out what was new, who had the hottest guys, and which shows managed to be erotic instead of laughable. I could, and do, hit the bars with Noom too, but it’s different when I’m with him. On those nights it’s more about giving him a break from his self-impose duties of taking care of me 24/7. It gives him a chance to talk with his friends. And in the bars is one of the few places he’s comfortable in letting me fend for myself.
I should take offense that he thinks I’m incapable of finding my way around town or even crossing a street without his assistance, but I know his care comes from his heart so I ignore what should be a slight. I’m not sure why he’s decided I’m safe on my own in a bar, but it works. The only downside is that being with him removes the opportunity that I might off one of the boys and the whole thing just isn’t as exciting. Hitting bars on my own, even if I don’t off a guy, still puts that excitement of the hunt in the air. So I treat myself at least once on every trip.
On this night, business was slow. It has been for far too long. The bars were hurting. The boys were hurting. And with a dearth of customers entering the soi, the barkers were hurting too. They make a fixed wage but also get a commission on the customers they steer into their bars. Not suffering financially like much of the rest of the world, as I stepped back out onto the soi I slipped Wit a tip. Barkers don’t get tipped very often. But being a Thai he knew enough to accept whatever it was I was slyly passing to him. I patted him on the shoulder as I did so, bid him a good night and started walking away.
Having eyeballed the bill in his hand, he grabbed me before I could make my escape. My gesture had been unexpected. And much appreciated. Wit gave me an honest wai, and then placed his hand on my hip as he thanked me. His touch, while not overtly sexual, held promise. But with reuniting with Noom but a night away I failed to follow it up. But did file it away with a second, huh.
Several weeks later having made a quick trip to Bali I was back In Bangkok again and decided to hit the soi on my own before hooking up with Noom. Spotting me, Wit went into his running gag of acting like I was a new visitor to town. I gave him an obligatory chuckle, he cracked himself up yet again, and I climbed the stairs to X-Size to see the show. X-size tends to have a good stable of boys, but it can be hit or miss. The manager likes men, so there are usually a few studs on offer. Not so on this visit, it was flab or fem and I left before finishing my beer. Back out on the soi, I stopped to chat with Wit for a bit. And then my huhs hit home.
“I think you should come back to my hotel with me,” I told him.
Wit smiled, then laughed. He thought I was introducing a new addition to our running joke. I corrected his misunderstanding. “No, really,” I said. “I want to off you for the night.”
Like every employee at a gogo bar, barkers too are available to be offed. I just don’t think anyone has done so before. He laughed again. And then shot me a look asking if I was joking. I wasn’t. We stepped into the bar, totally confounded the captain who had never before had to consider what the off fee for a barker would be, settled up, and headed back outside. The look on the other barker’s faces was a Kodak moment. Someone had finally figured out a way to silence the group. And that little pocket of silence followed us down the soi as we made our way out to Suriwong, the denizens of the street not believing what they were seeing.
Back at the hotel that I was not dealing with a bar boy became immediately obvious. Instead of reaching for the remote control for the TV, Wit reached for me instead. Labelling a Thai as gay or straight unless you mean top or bottom is usually a non-starter. With Wit, I’d go with gay. Our embrace, kissing, enjoyment in each other as I slowly peeled his clothes off was more like a date back home than a night with a bar boy. When we’d progressed to the point it was time to take a shower, he held onto my hand making it clear he didn’t want to shower alone. And stripped naked, his body was much better than it appeared to be when covered in street clothes. Except for his ass. It was just as cute as it always had promised to be.
Bar boys, even though they get naked on stage and have sex with strangers for a living, can be shy about exposing their bodies. Wit wasn’t in the least bit. Instead of burying under the covers of the bed, he pushed them all to the floor. And while he may have preferred being ravished by Noom, his hard cock proved that settling for me was just fine with him. Intuitive to say the least, he moved freely about the bed, a never ending entanglement of limbs. And just when I steeled myself to having to convince him to bottom, he reached over grabbed a condom package and tore it open.
Finished, spent, sated, we laid in each others arms for a bit. And then he turned to me, put out his hand and said, “Hello! I Wit. Welcome to Bangkok!”
Showering together afterwards was difficult. He kept hitting the shower floor in laughter over his joke. Finally cleaned again and unfortunately dressed, he accepted his tip without looking at it, almost embarrassed at being paid for something he’d obviously enjoyed. But then reality struck and his eyes flew wide. “Don’t tell Noom!” he cried.
I’m not sure if that was concern over Noom’s wrath for nabbing his customer or that he was concerned having done so might jinx his chances of landing Noom himself some night. But I quickly agreed it should remain our secret while thinking there is no such thing as a secret on Soi Twilight.
I don’t know that we actually pulled that off. I can’t believe that someone didn’t tell Noom. A barker getting offed is just too novel of an occurrence to not be gossiped about. But Noom never mentioned it, so who knows. Now all I have to do is figure out how to successfully introduce the subject of making Wit’s dreams about Noom come true. Provided that means there will be three of us in the bed.
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