A Walk on the Wild Side Read online

  Gina thought about the evening ahead, and her plan of spending it back at the hotel with her Kindle. “And that’s where you are going tonight?”

  Greg seemed to reach a decision. “Um - yes. Want to tag along?”

  The taxi dropped them on a main street and Greg took the lead. They walked to the entry of a narrow, crowded street. “This is Soi Twilight. The gayest strip in town. I hope you don’t mind?”

  “Of course not. As long as it’s fun.” It was a packed neon canyon, a narrow lane with glitzy bars on each side and souvenir stalls filling most of the free space. The music drowned all thought and the bar signs were dazzling. Dream Boys, Maxis, Fresh Boys, Boys Bangkok, all impossibly bright.

  Greg handed her in front of him. “Let’s just check it out. I’ll watch your back, but hang on to your bag.”

  Gina pushed slowly forward, taking in the bustle around her. The bars spread onto the pavement. Western men sat watching the world go by, and handsome Thai men brought them drinks. In front of each bar, a barker tried to tempt them in.

  Gina saw no girl bars. Male sex ruled. There were some Thai women on the street, some passing through and some in small giggling groups seeing the sights. Western women too, all hanging onto a man and looking uncomfortable. Gina decided she would not touch Greg or hide behind him.

  They walked the length of the street and turned back. Greg said, “Let’s go in here. It’s friendly, and the show’s good.” He steered her through the chairs and tables beside the street and into one of the bars.

  The room was larger than she had expected, and dark. Lights bathed a busy bar area to one side, and the loud techno music seemed to come from there. Tables and chairs filled the rest of the room, about half of them occupied by Westerners and Thais. Attractive young men served the tables, all dressed in singlets and low-cut, tight jeans.

  Some-one was talking to Greg. An older Thai, slim and with a face ravaged by pock-marks. “Hello, Mr Greg. You come again -very happy. Who is your friend?”

  “Mr Sam, meet Gina.”

  His hand felt small in hers. “Hello, Miss Gina. You Australia also? Your Mr Greg, he old friend here. Where you like sit? Here, you sit. I send two boys.”

  Greg glanced at Gina and said, “Not two. One is enough. Is Palat here tonight?”

  Mr Sam chuckled. “Oh you like Palat too much. He tell me. No, Palat, he go outside. I have new boy you like. Teera. Chiangmai boy, very nice, very fresh. I send him. What you like drink? Whisky? Singha?”

  He looked at Gina and said, “I should stick to the beer if I were you. I wouldn’t trust mixed drinks and I especially wouldn’t trust the water.” She nodded and he turned back to Mr Sam.

  “This Teera is good, Mr Sam. Is he gay? Does he do everything?”

  “Sure he gay! Look, I send him, OK? Now, what you want? Singha?”

  Greg gave something to Mr Sam, and Gina caught a glimpse of folded money as the man pocketed it. “Ok. You buy him a drink, and send him over with two Singhas. Then we’ll see.” He led Gina to a table near the entrance where they could sit with their backs against the wall.

  “Well?” he asked, “What do you think of this den of iniquity?”

  Gina looked around. “I don’t know yet. They seem to know you.”

  “Yes, well, I’ve been here a few times, this trip and before. They generally have good memories and they don’t rip you off if they think you will be coming back.”

  “You gave him some money.”

  “Yes. That’s why he’s my friend. And he’ll give a drink to the boy as well. Otherwise they keep nagging you to buy them a drink, and they’re expensive. Everyone pretends they are drinking whisky sodas, but really it’s just water with a dash of Coke. That’s how the boys earn their money, and how the house pays for the shows. Nothing is exactly free, but it’s not very expensive either. I just don’t like getting ripped off, so I keep Mr Sam friendly.”

  “Why did you ask him if the boy is gay? Aren’t they all gay here?”

  “Yes and no. A lot of them aren’t. Most of them, perhaps. They just like showing off and taking money from foreigners. It’s an easy way to earn a living, but if your heart’s not in it...”

  Gina thought about that. The boys in a gay bar are not gay? That shocked her.

  “It’s like this,” continued Greg, “They the same as prostitutes anywhere. I don’t suppose most girl prostitutes really want their clients, but they’re doing what comes naturally. Gay sex only comes naturally to some people, and the others feel bad about it. A lot of them just want to jerk you around and run off with your money. The quicker the better.”

  “That other boy, the one who isn’t here, he’s gay?”

  “Palat? He’s as gay as they come. He’s pretty, and in great shape. I’d take him home in my baggage. He’s really into the sex thing.”

  A young man appeared with two bottles of Singha, a suspicious light brown drink in a glass, and a short length of bamboo with their drinks chit in it. He wore a pink singlet and tight jeans. He was slight, shorter than me, thought Gina, but I like those muscles. He’s a real gym bunny.

  “Hi, you must be Teera. Sit down,” said Greg, offering his hand. They shook hands and Teera offered his hand to Gina. Another of the famous wet fish Asian handshakes, she thought, but he’s got beautiful eye lashes.

  “You’re from Chiangmai, then?” asked Greg.

  Teera seemed to be blushing. “Yes. Chiangmai.” Talking to foreigners was difficult.

  Gina tried to help him out. “What do you do in Chiangmai?”

  Teera looked desperate. “Chiangmai. My House,” he managed.

  “You must go to Chiangmai,” Greg said to Gina. “It’s very beautiful up there, and the climate’s much more comfortable. Lots of things to see, and you can go on treks. They say all the prettiest girls come from there. Looks like the boys aren’t too bad either.”

  Gina looked at the other tables. Most of the other customers were older Western men, sitting with a Thai boy and chatting. Their boys must have more English than this one. Their body language looked interesting. They did not sit opposite each other at their table. The boys had brought their chairs as close as they could, and touched their clients’ as they talked. Some had their client’s arm around their shoulders.

  Mr Sam came over to check on his boy. “You see, Mr Greg. Teera very good boy. You like? I like too much!” and he laughed, before making Teera get up and move his chair closer to Greg. “He new. Very fresh. You wait he dance. Big boy - very big.” He left them to greet more customers.

  “What happens now?” asked Gina.

  “I think the show starts soon.” He asked Teera, “You dance now?” Teera nodded.

  “OK. Soon they all get up and dance. Show off a bit of flesh. Then, we’ll see. Perhaps I’ll off him.”

  “What?”

  “Take him out. That’s what it’s called. I pay a fee and take him home. Then I’ll have to pay him as well, of course.” Greg showed no sign of any embarrassment.

  The room was filling up. Gina heard Mr Sam’s voice from the street, “Come in, come in, show now.” The Thai boys on the tables began to get up and leave their friends, and Teera said, “Now, dancing,” and left too.

  “The show starts now?” asked Gina.

  “Yes, very soon. It’s usually pretty good here. At least they make the boys practise, and some of them are good dancers. It’s not Las Vegas, though. Cheap is cheap, I suppose.”

  Mr Sam ushered in two more foreigners, and drew a curtain across the door. The signal for the music to change to a heavy, pulsating beat and for disco lights to flash across the wall opposite the entry. In the dim house lighting, Gina had not noticed a narrow stage there, now the focus of roaming spotlights. The audience stopped talking and waited.

  Without introduction, the boys filed into the room, dancing as they came. They packed into a single line on the stage, and the rest filled the floor in front of it. They had changed from their working clothes and were all dres
sed in shapeless white tee-shirts, just long enough for decency. The audience clapped and cheered as they came in, and Gina searched for Teera. He looked awkward and self-conscious.

  “That’s new,” said Greg. “Mr Sam must have splashed out on some new clothes. They’ll be coming off in a moment, I guarantee.”

  The lines of dancers worked through a simple disco routine. Gina could see from their glances they were taking their cues from one of the dancers in the front row. Like school kids on stage, she thought. Their mothers would be proud of them, but it will take a decade before they are a real team.

  Her attention was drawn to their hemlines. As they danced, there were more and more glimpses of underwear, tiny briefs that emphasised their equipment more than hiding it. Some of the briefs appeared well filled.

  The dancing became more frantic as the boys rubbed up and down against each other, back to back, front to front, smiling and enjoying themselves. They were passing comments to the audience as they danced, and waving at their friends.

  The music changed, and all the dancers turned their backs on the audience. They did something to their briefs and then stood for a moment, arms in the air, gyrating their hips. Some-one shouted three times, and all the boys turned together.

  They had hooked the front of their briefs behind their balls, and, with their upraised arms lifting their tee-shirts, their equipment was on display. Gina stared. So many cocks, all at once. Some were soft and lay on the front of their owner’s briefs. Others were half ready or erect and swung wildly with the dancing. All the same, until you looked closely. None of them were circumcised. None of them sprang from a tangled mass of hair, only a small trim patch at their root.

  Gina looked around the room. It was quiet and all the audience stared, their eyes at crotch level. Greg was staring too and did not notice Gina watching him. She searched for Teera again. His cock was erect, pointing out across the room. It looked big, bigger than she had expected from his slight figure. In fact, they all looked big. She wondered if size was part of the job interview for dancers. Did it figure on their CVs? How were the jobs advertised? Must be able to dance and have a big dick?

  The lead boy shouted again, and everyone stripped off their tee shirt and threw it to the back of the stage. The dancing started again in earnest, with the boys rubbing their glistening bodies against each other. Sometimes a boy would take a few steps into the audience and flaunt himself to one of the tables, but he would whirl back into the crowd if a hand reached out to touch him.

  Most of the cocks were properly erect now, and Gina saw the dancers touch each other, giving their friends’ cocks a quick squeeze as they passed, or pushing the foreskin back to show more to the audience.

  Greg leaned across the table to her. “I think I’ll off him when the show’s over. Do you mind? Nothing much else happens here. They’ll dance a couple more times. There’ll be a fucking display much later on, but that’s not worth seeing, believe me. No fun, just gymnastics.”

  When the dancers had gone and the curtain over the entry door had been drawn back, Greg picked up their bamboo tube with the bar chits and went to talk to Mr Sam. Gina saw him pass over some money, and then he came to sit down again.

  She felt curious. “How does that work? You’ve paid for him already?”

  “Yes, I’ve paid the drinks, and the bar fee. And a tip for Mr Sam. He’s OK. Some of the mamasans at these bars are really stupid. Can’t even add up your bill and get the same answer twice running. At least Mr Sam realises that if he keeps his boys in line, he gets more tips himself so I always give him a couple of hundred as a tip. It’s worth it.”

  “How much does it all cost?”

  “All together? A couple of thousand baht, I guess. Say sixty bucks, including the boy. That’s something else Mr Sam fixes. The boy is told exactly what he’s going to do, and how much he’ll get paid. If he screws around or asks for more money, he’ll have Mr Sam on his case tomorrow. Look - he’s ready.”

  Teera waited with Mr Sam. He still looked self-conscious and

  did not meet their eyes. Mr Sam was all business. “Good night, Madam,” he said shaking Gina’s hand. He took Greg’s hand and said, “I say very strong to this boy, you take care my friend Mr Greg. You do everything and one thousand baht finish. He OK. Very young, very fresh. Good night!”

  Walking into the hotel lobby felt embarrassing. Gina felt everyone’s eyes on her as they went to the concierge for their keys, Teera in tow. They knew what he was and why he was there. The security guard at the foot of the lifts was worse. He looked at Greg’s room key, and examined Teera’s ID card, noting the details in his register.

  “OK?” asked Greg. The guard nodded and waved them to the lifts.

  They stepped into the lift and Gina silently begged the door to close quickly. Greg looked relaxed, and he was holding Teera’s hand. “You can come too, if you like,” he said. “Perhaps a massage?”

  His suggestion shocked her and she should have rejected it. Instead, she did not wait for her floor but followed them out of the lift. “Just for a while,” she said, “And I’m not doing anything.”

  Greg said, “Of course,” and smiled at her.

  She found herself trembling as they walked into his room. It was tidy, tidier than her own. She did not know what to do.

  Greg waved Teera to the bathroom and came to stand beside her looking out of the window. Far below them, Bangkok’s night people crowded the bright street. It looked very alive. She did not want to ask herself why she had come.

  “Would you like a drink? I could make a coffee.”

  She shook her head.

  Greg said, “It’s pretty out there, don’t you think? If only the language wasn’t so difficult, I think I could settle in. You’ve seen them in the countryside. I don’t know what they do, but they seem to live reasonably well. I love the climate, love the food.”

  “Perhaps you’re a natural Buddhist.”

  “You know, I just don’t understand that religion. It’s not very obvious, and yet... It seems to suit them. Have you noticed the little shrines in all the bars and restaurants? There are monks everywhere, once you start looking. I’ve been told that the monasteries act like high schools for most boys.”

  The bathroom door opened and Teera came out with wet hair and dressed only in a towel. His upper body looked sculpted and sexy.

  “How about a massage then? No? What about a foot massage while I grab a shower? No harm in that.”

  She must have agreed because Greg went to the bathroom and returned with a wet flannel. “Sit down then. Teera, you like to give Gina a foot massage? Just feet, you understand?”

  “Happy ending?”

  Greg chuckled. “Another time, perhaps. Just foot massage. Here. Sit down, Gina. Give the man a chance.” He passed Teera the flannel.

  Gina rejected the bed and chose the arm chair. She kicked off her shoes and Teera came to kneel at her feet.

  Once Greg had gone, Teera became more lively. He looked her in the face and smiled as he reached for her feet. “Very pretty lady,” he said, and began to clean her carefully. He wiped her and took time to clean between her toes. Then he tossed the flannel onto the bedside table and put a foot on each of his thighs.

  For a moment she thought he could see up her skirt, but she pushed the thought away as he began to manipulate the first foot. It felt good.

  He lifted her foot to work the sole of her foot with both thumbs and she was staring down at his lap. The split in his towel showed the darkness between his thighs and there, nodding as he worked, she could see the tip of his cock. It was erect, and a melting thrill ran through her stomach.

  Greg returned soon after he had started on the second foot. He wore only a towel as well. Gina felt over-dressed, but these two were not going to get her out of her clothes. Greg stood beside her with a hand on her shoulder and watched as Teera worked away.

  At last, he finished and stood up. Greg left her and went to Teera, putting an arm aro
und his shoulders and loosening his towel. He threw it aside. Teera looked better without it. Beautiful, sexy, half erect and ready for more. Greg reached for his cock. Teera closed his eyes and buried his face in Greg’s chest. His cock had grown in Greg’s hand and would soon be strong again.

  Greg steered him to the bed and he lay down without protest. Gina stayed in her chair. She was close; she could have reached out and touched him. The sight of Greg’s hand sliding gently up and down, pulling back the cover to expose Teera’s plum and then hiding it again, mesmerised her.

  Greg wanted more and pulled off his own towel. Gina guessed he spent time working out as well. He was a heavier man, big, Western, with hair on his chest. He had no hair at all around his cock and it stood out nakedly from his body, a hard and hungry pole. He was circumcised and the head of his cock gleamed pale purple. He came to stand at Gina’s side of the bed and she had to lean forward to see what he was doing.

  Still working Teera’s cock, he offered his own to the boy’s mouth.

  His eyes closed. “Oh, yes!” he whispered. Then he stepped back, and smiled at Gina. “Can you see? Come closer.”

  What was she doing here, in a hotel room with two naked men? She felt stupid, but a little imp at the back of her mind was saying - but you want to see, don’t you? Blame the beer and, anyway, you are flying home tomorrow. Who will know? Apart from Greg?

  She went to stand beside him. He dropped Teera’s cock so he could put his arm around her shoulders, and again offered his to be sucked. “Oh yes. He’s good.”

  Teera was sucking hard and using both hands to work Greg’s cock. She felt Greg trembling. “Play with him,” he told her, but she did not want this stranger. His cock lay unwanted and shrinking.

  “Oh-oh-oh no!” Greg pulled away trembling and wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her, and she returned it.

  When he had calmed down, they stopped kissing. “He nearly made me come that time. Now, slowly this time.” Teera took charge of his cock again, and Greg began kissing her.

  It could not last and Greg pulled away again. His cock looked wet and hard, and Gina could have touched it. Instead, he rolled Teera onto his face in the centre of the bed. Reaching into the bedside table he produced a condom and a tube of lubricant.