Your first time should always be special. It should be memorable. Especially when it comes to sex. The first time you feel the hard naked flesh of another man against yours, the first time you kiss, the first time you hear that astounding cry, “Holy Shit! That thing is humongous!” Ahhh memories. And good times. Not everyone lucks out and has a memorable first time of having sex with another man. At least not memorable in a good way. But if you’ve gotten a few orgasms under your belt already, your first time offing a gogo boy in Thailand is always a memorable experience. Even if he turns out to be a dud. That’s why so many of us come back again and again. Even bad sex with a Thai gogo boy is like a little slice of heaven.

My first time offing a gogo boy was not my first time in Thailand. In fact, I’d been going there for several years already, and several times each year. It wasn’t the first time I’d had sex with a Thai guy in Bangkok either; I’d already learned how easy guys were at DJ Station. I’d also already dipped into the city’s commercial sex scene, having had a quite soapy happy ending at a straight massage shop with my buddy Rick (which I guess is a story that too should be told). And I’d been to Bangkok’s gay gogo bars before, thanks to the curiosity of my straight buddy Dave. It wasn’t even my first time offing someone from a bar; I’d been doing that for quite a while though up until then it had always been bar girls. And just to go hit a club. So even being a newbie, I wasn’t. But managed to handle the night like I was.

Many trips I take to Thailand is with a friend or group of friends. But I also make the pilgrimage alone. This was one of those times and a night out drooling over the half-naked studs at Barbiery sounded like a perfect way to finish the trip off. I hadn’t planned on picking up a companion for the evening. It wasn’t that I was too timid to, or had an aversion to prostitution. I just hadn’t yet crossed that line and was quite satisfied with just looking. That alone was quite a thrill. But then one of the boys working the bar that night had a different plan. And his was better.

Back then, the only bar on Soi Twilight was Twilight. There was no street of gogo bars for gay touri. Gogo bars for men looking for men were scattered around Patpong. And you had to know where to look. Barbiery, however, was easy to find. An upstairs bar, it sat on Suriwong just about across from where the entrance to Soi Twilight is now. It was always packed, even during the middle of the week. And its shows were more erotic than sleaze. Flesh was always on display, just not the flesh you really wanted to see. Even then, what was displayed was more than you’d see anywhere else in the world. And there was always the promise of more to come if you decided to take a boy home with you.

The night of my undoing I made a late entrance. The couches that fronted the stage were, as usual, already filled with customers. The line of stools to the right of the door – my preferred perch because you could catch the on-stage action as well as check out the boys primping and pumping in the back room – was filled too. That left a few scant spots at the bar to choose from, the trick there being to grab the stool closest to the door because that also meant it was the furthest from the head which was always in strong contention for the most rank and disgusting toilet in Bangkok.

Unfortunately, the only available stool was still in smelling distance of the one someone else deposited god knows how many years ago. And it was the exact spot the waiter turned his drink orders in and loaded up his tray from too. I didn’t plan on offing a boy that night, but after a few minutes did plan on making the visit a short one. But then the next bump to my shoulder came not from the waiter yet again, but from a half-naked young stud with a smile that could melt the most hardened heart. As well as instantly hardening other body parts.

He was a complete dreamboat. Shoulder length jet black hair, a swimmer’s build, deep black eyes that you could easily get lost in, and dimples that turned hiss entire face into a picture of joy. And I already mentioned the half naked thingy, right?. I would have proposed marriage right there on the spot but it would have done me no good. He knew, evidently, not a word of English. But his smile spoke volumes, and then just in case I didn’t speak smile, he leaned in and used his fingers to make a gesture that even a blind man would recognize as an invitation to sex. Anal sex. I was sold.

Unplanned for, I hadn’t a clue what the off fee should be. Back then that knowledge was by word of mouth or through past experience. Google had not yet debuted and you couldn’t check the world wide web to find out what others considered a reasonable bar fine to be. Like the sucker that I was, I happily ponied up the 500 baht the bartender suggested, earning wide smiles from both him and the hunk I was offing. Being ripped off on the first off I paid for at a gay gogo bar in Bangkok has stuck with me for years, but then I’d gladly pay it again; it was a cheap ticket into a world I’ve come to enjoy.

I was staying in the penthouse suite at the Swiss Park and my companion for the night was properly impressed as well as mystified. He spent a good ten minutes checking out the couch as though he’d never seen one before (and perhaps hadn’t) and used his limited English to question again and again that I was the sole occupant of the room, that a single person would be staying by himself in such a spacious room was just beyond belief. The television and remote control, however, were more familiar to him and as countless numbers of bar boys have since, he immediately became engrossed in the flickering images and screeching sounds of a Thai television program.

Unsure of just when the sex should begin, I let him enjoy himself while I laid behind him on the bed just as rapt, but with his clothed body rather than what was on the small screen. After a good half hour had passed, I figured it was up to me to start things off (and have since learned it is always up to you to decide when the games will begin). Knowing at least that a shower was expected before sex could occur I tapped his should and gave him the one word command that let him know it was time to get down to business.

I had stayed at the Swiss Park many times before. As with many hotels in that price range, there are always trade offs. The Swiss Park’s was its showers. Nicely done in marble, the draw back was a confusing system of handles and levers that needed to be turned, pushed, and pulled into position to get water flowing through the showerhead and at a temperature that neither scalded or chilled. It was beyond my new friend’s capabilities. He finally gave up, calling for assistance, “Hey! You!”

When I entered the bathroom his perplexed look was enough to let me know what he needed. Standing in the tub naked, with one hand over his crotch and the other over his chest he was a picture of modesty, which clued me into just how shy bar boys can be once back in your room. Problem solved, he cleaned up, and draped in a towel headed back for the TV.

That was the first, and fortunately last time I’ve experienced a bar boy keeping his body wrapped in a bath towel until safely under the bed sheets. Today you can never really be sure if the guy’s erection is thanks to his youth, the baht soon coming his way, or a little blue bill. But seldom is it because of you. Like Google, Viagra was still a wonder to come back then, so I’ll chalk the glorious erection he unveiled to his age. Not that why his cock was hard and throbbing when he slipped out of his towel made a bit of difference to me. Better still, he willingly responded to anything I did. And quickly picked up on any hints I made of what he should be doing.

As a newbie to the commercial sex world I was unsure of what I could expect, and of how I should go about getting it. So instead I treated him as I had every other hot guy with whom I ended up in bed. Just with less talking involved. Since that time I have learned more about how to treat bar boys, but I still rely on that mode of operation when it comes to sex. And it still works well.

He kissed with little hesitation. And had no problem with my fascination with his body. Once sex was on the table, his shyness dissipated. I have no idea if he was new to the bar world or an old pro but he certainly knew how to suck a cock, and let out satisfied little noises when I went down on him. It’s amazing how well you can communicate with someone who speaks little of your language when you are naked in bed together. And the communication was all positive until I flipped him over on his stomach and kneeled between his legs.

Even a non-verbal ‘I do everything’ said in a bar seldom holds up to its promise once back in your hotel room. Another lesson learned from the start and one that still disappoints me today. He didn’t say no. Nor did he stop me when I used my finger to lube up his tight little hole. But the slight and constant shaking of his head communicated that bottoming was not something he wanted to do. I tend to think he was still new to the bar world. Rather than emphatically refusing to do what he didn’t want to do, he trusted, or hoped, I would do the right thing. And though I know I could have sunk myself deeply inside of him, I spread myself on top instead, kissing his neck until he relaxed and realized the danger was over.

His smile came back when we rolled back over, and while most bar boys would just as soon finish things off by chuck wowing, he used his mouth and lips to bring us to a conclusion. And then kissed me once again before hopping out of bed to try to operate the shower once again.

I didn’t know about longtime offs back then either so ours was a short-time even of it did last several hours. Not sure how to go about tipping him, I waited until he was dressed and ready to leave and then slipped him his tip as I would a doorman at a club. Like most bar boys since then, he did not count the wad in his hand, barely looking at it before slipping it into the front pocket of his jeans. When he stepped through the door, he turned back, smiled yet again, and gave me a gracious, and real wai, a gesture that still today is part of what makes your time with a bar boy so satisfying.

It was another three months before I hit Bangkok again. And I made a beeline for Barbiery, hoping to off my sweet hot stud for another enjoyable night. He no longer worked there. I never saw him again. But with one off under my belt, I proceeded to off a new boy instead, learning in the process to not trust the bartender when it comes to off fees. I couldn’t tell you a thing about the guy I offed that night, his face, his body, and our time together has been lost amidst the memories of all the guy’s I’ve offed since.

But that first guy I remember well and can still vividly picture his smile and those eyes that promised so much more than he was willing to give. As an avowed top, perhaps, my first time with a gogo boy in Bangkok was a dud. But if that experience was a bad off, I’d gladly off nothing but duds for the rest of my life. And I’m never surprised regardless of how good or bad the sex was, that newbies to Thailand’s bar world fall in love with the experience and return for more again and again.

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