California Dreaming

I started the day with a little red pulse throbbing behind my eyes. A dull persistant hammering ache. Not the finest or most auspicious of beginnings for any day. A pulsating scarlet ache behind the eyes. A gut that felt ready to explode. My dick didn't feel that fantastic either. I'd spent the preceding twelve hours in the company of a grand old dame of the Thermae who, in pursuit of her third juddering orgasm, had shown no regard whatsoever for the limits of my penile flexibility bending it this way and that. Enthusiasm is one thing but it never ceases to amaze me how many seasoned professionals lack a basic understanding of male anatomy.

I couldn't remember her name. Maybe this was why she tortured me. Some kind of dark revenge for the fact that on a couple of occasions earlier on in the evening I introduced her to my friends as "thingamajig". I hadn't been meaning to take her or anyone else out. She just draped herself over me like a long lost love and stuck her hands down my crotch. For me this is nearly always a winning strategy. The fact she kept whispering in my ear that she really needed my dick inside her - not just anyone's dick but my particular one - made her a hard act to resist. She knew I wanted it and that I knew the score. Her pushiness and hot breath might have been a turn off to some gentlemen but I've always been charmed by such behaviour. So much so that it only took a short while for us to be tumbling into a taxi telling the driver there was an extra fifty baht if he could get us to my place in under twenty minutes.

Once in my room we'd fucked a while, drank a while, fucked a little more, drank a little more, then, for a little variety we ordered some more drinks while still fucking. At first it was all business as usual but as the evening wore on she became more and more violent with her fucking. And, being as drunk as fuck but still basically horny, I allowed her to take liberties with me beyond the normal call of duty. By the last fuck she was riding me like a bucking bronco with a dildo on the saddle and full of alcoholic bravado I avoided screaming in agony when she took it the wrong way. In fact I was so touched by the fact she seemed to be enjoying me so much that I almost completely forgot that I was supposed to be covering Jim's English class at Nine.

She was just about ready to crash so, to get rid of her, I gave her a handsome tip and sent her home in a tuk tuk. Unwisely, instead of getting a taxi myself, I jumped a bus which trudged across town as if tomorrow would do. Every so often I got a whiff of thingamijig's perfume or cunt and I wondered if my fellow passengers were thinking "Who is this farang who stinks of whore ?"

So all in all a normal run of the mill day in the life of Turk Fist...

The class did not go well. I felt terrible. I tried to wing it and get everyone talking to each other in English when I was supposed to be going over the basics of compound verbs. I could see them slyly chuckling at my obviously less than wonderful state of health. Maybe they, too, were wondering why I stunk like a Thermae whore.

I almost fell out of the classroom not looking back for one second. I just wanted to get as far away as possible. I walked up Silom Road drinking a couple of M150's as I went. The people around me seemed unreal. I didn't want to go home because I knew that if I did I'd just crash out and be up all night again. Every time I passed a silver sign or reflective surface I saw this bedraggled dark eyed fucker staring back at me.

I wound up, eventually, in Lumphini Park, my head still throbbing. Stupid fucking Thai whisky. Why do they even call it whisky when it was rum ? The open space of the park was exactly what I needed but everything I saw annoyed me. Joggers jogged past me and I wondered what the fuck they were running for. One overweight woman came huffing and puffing past me wheezing her way to a major coronary. I wondered what kind of a cunt invented jogging. Better to die fat than go through that daily indignity. Still... Even the joggers were better than the weightlifting cretins who hung around like a bunch of posing queers lifting their dumbbells and flexing themselves so hard that the veins stood up like weeds over their bulging physiques. One pinprick would be enough to burst those walking blood banks and cause an arterial explosion that showered this verdant little paradise with gore.

I knew, just knew, that my next visit to the pissoir would sting like fuck. The effects of a bent dick could occasionally replicate those of gonorrhoea or non specific urethritis for weeks on end. My mood was not good.

I sat back on one of the benches with the words "cunt, shit, bollocks, motherfucker" echoing through me keeping perfect rhythm with that throbbing behind my eyes. At least sitting here in the dead centre of Lumphini Park in the dead centre of Bangkok all the traffic and building site noise was reduced to a steady gentle humming in C-minor.

I listened to it hoping with my eyes closed and let the throbbing slowly ebb away. And as I listened to the world growing more silent I noticed the world slipping away as the only reality became the darkness within me.

Waking up my head was still throbbing lightly, but it seemed less significant. Next to me, with her sky blue eyes fixed upon me, was the most beautiful blonde I'd ever seen outside of a fuck book. Her softly curling hair cascaded around her face so that everything about her was bathed in this golden glow. My heart start pounding so much I could barely feel the other aches and pains in my body at all.

"It's a beautiful day isn't it." She said in a lilting Californian accent.

"Yes. It is I guess."

"I love this place." She said. "I'm here all the time. I love Bangkok of course but sometimes it's just nice to come and be somewhere peaceful."

"Absolutely."

"You're English aren't you... The English either keep it all in or let it all go. You sleep like a man who's being watched."

"I was being watched."

She smiled and dimples appeared in her cheeks. "I guess so. I like watching people. I do it all the time. Sometimes I sit somewhere there are lots of people and try and see who everyone is, what's on their minds, what they're worried about, what makes them happy, what makes them mad... "

"It's okay."

"Is it ?"

"Sure," I said. "You're more than welcome"

"My name's Angie."

"Turk."

"Tell me if you want to be left alone."

"I don't... " I said a bit too quickly.

"You work here in Bangkok ?"

"Sometimes. But mostly I live off my investments."

"Really. So you're rich ?" She said with a smile spreading across her face.

"No. Not really... But I get by. One little dip in the market and I could be wiped out tomorrow. But I don't like to think about that. What about you ? You work here ?"

"Not really. I don't have a job here. But I stay busy."

"Watching people."

"That's part of it. I have my own business. Buy me a drink and I'll show you."

"Where do you want to go ?"

"I'll take you somewhere," She said. "But you have to trust me."

"I've only just met you."

"Does that usually matter ?" She smiled an enigmatic smile and stretched her arms upward giving her nipples the perfect opportunity to poke perkily through her T-Shirt.

"No... I suppose not." I said and she took me by the hand to the edge of the park where we caught a taxi.

The taxi seemed to travel miles down mysteriously traffic free roads before arriving at a wide boulevard on the wrong side of the river that I didn't know.

She paid the taxi; at least I assumed she paid him because as soon as we got out he drove away. "This is it." She said and led me into this smallish bar crawling with lush green vegetation. It smelled as heady as a jungle. All the furniture looked as though it had been weaved out of wicker.

She led me to a booth in the dimmest part of the bar and sat beside me closer than a friend would normally sit. The waiter descended upon us immediately. We ordered Southern Comfort on the rocks.

"Have you ever been in here before ?" She said.

"Never."

"I like to come during the day. Late afternoon. At night it fills up with Thai yuppies drinking Day-Glo colour drinks and showing off their new mobile phones. But just around sundown the place fills with this incredible golden light that fills the place and catches every mote of dust so it shines like a diamond. And if you've just had your first drink of the day for a little while the entire world feels like magic."

Our drinks arrived and her skin radiated this benevolent heat. It was beautiful just to be with her a million miles from the frantic intimacies of the night before.

"I want to show you something."

"What ?" I said.

"You know when I told you I was watching you... You didn't mind ?"

"No."

"But I wasn't just watching you. I was reading you."

"You were."

"Your life is full of pain. You sleep around and drink too much thinking it'll stop the pain but it's like putting a sticking plaster on cancer... You're looking for something that you don't even believe exists. But it does exist. All you ever needed is waiting for you."

"I'm sorry. I..."

"I'll show you."

She lifted her hands over my head and held them there for a few minutes. I felt a build up of something on the top of my head like an electric charge. Then I felt her fingertips moving slowly through the top of my skull as if it was made of nothing more solid than water. Her eyes stayed focussed on mine.

"What are you doing ?" I said.

"Taking the pain away."

"What ?"

Suddenly I felt her fingers slipping deeper into my head and I saw the light in the bar filling with gold just as she'd described. Every mote of dust looked like a star in the sky as I felt my brain moulded like dough in her hands. Stars were falling all around us as though we were in the centre of a firework show. Then the light, instead of growing dimmer, grew brighter and brighter until my entire soul felt like it was part of this incredible sheer white light and Angie was completely linked into me.

The next thing I knew, or the next thing I remember, it was night.

I was still in the booth with a single glass of Bourbon in front of me. The ice had melted. Nearby a group of Thai yuppies were drinking Day-Glo coloured drinks comparing mobile phones. I realised Angie was gone and checked my wallet. Nothing was missing.

I stayed for a while and finished my drink hoping she'd reappear but knowing she was gone. All my pains were gone. Even the one in my dick.

Not many people I know believe this story. I'm not so sure I believe it myself.

© Turk Fist. All rights reserved by the author.

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