Thai Fantasy #1

First holiday in Thailand, so a long, long while ago. Hired a motor-bike to ride around the island. Nearly killed myself half-a-dozen times before I got the hang of it. Loved the feeling of freedom on the road, the power between my legs and the wind in my hair (yeah, no helmet - stupid). Checked out the bars from the safety of the road, took a while to find the few gay bars, and selected one that looked safe.
Young men at the door, anxious to hustle me in, all smiles and talk. The door opens and its a mistake, not the sort of bar I wanted, but its too late, the way out is blocked by smiling Thais, and there are more ushering me to a seat. I have to squeeze between the two platforms to get there, three shiny poles on each platform, and scantily clad go-go-boys gyrating around each pole. This is so not what I intended.
Seated, do I want a drink ? Well, yes, I need something to do other than stare at the white undies swivelling two feet in front of my face. Do I dare to look higher ? I notice out of the corner of my eye he's smiling at me and I look away quickly, feel like that's rude, but if I smile back what am I getting myself in for? There is nowhere else to look, so I let my gaze go up past the undies, up the slim smooth body and yep, he's staring back, hard. His smile broadens and its so infectious I can't help but smile back. Quickly though, a flash of white teeth catches my eye a few feet across, and there's another winning smile that I have to return. My drink arrives, thank God, a reason to look away.
With my drink comes a whiff of perfume, and a tall, attractive woman, rather overdressed and with a little too much make-up sits down next to me with a dramatic swish of scarf around neck. A woman ? No, hang on, the scarf is a give-away, so are the wrists. It clicks - the Mam-San, not quite a woman, but my hostess for the evening. She introduces herself, her english is excellent, a little unusual perhaps, but delightful. It is only courtesy I buy her a drink, and of course it is top-shelf and brightly coloured.
We talk. Where am I from, how long am I here, is it my first time in Thailand,what do i do, do I want a boy for the night, number 11 is very nice, but she thinks number 15 is the one for me. I am afraid to look and see what she thinks is right for me. Well, if I was buying he would not be the one I find myself thinking, but number 9 . . . . hang-on, what am I thinking. This is not the type of bar I wanted, and that is not what I was planning. I demur, no he is not really what I am looking for thank-you. I order another drink, almost automatically. And of course, the same again for Mama-San.
She seems to sense that I am not ready to make a choice, that perhaps she has pushed things a little early, and changes the topic. They have a show-er show later. I am trying to figure out what she means by a show-er-show, she flutters her hands around her head, then rubs them rather lasciviously down her body, rubbing her breasts gently. I did not expect that. and obviously look a little confused. She points behind me, and I notice a glass cubicle, a shower stall. Oh. A shower-show. A sex-show. Mild panic threatens, what am I doing in a go-go bar with a transexual about to see my first sex-show ? Another drink ? . . . . yes, of course, the same again for Mama-San.
Suddenly - "You like my breasts?" Well, yes, of course, they are very attractive. They are new, and she is very proud of them. She takes my hand, I must feel how firm they are. Yes, I agree, they are, and no, they did not make them too large, just right. Ah, so I like them! Perhaps then if I do not want a boy I would like to take her with me tonight. Before I can stammer an answer - before I have time to think of an answer that will not offend, she giggles, puts my hand back in my lap, and lets me off the hook. She likes to flirt she says, but she has a boyfriend, a Belgian, who is paying for the rest of her operation next month. She does not cheat on him.
I have been aware that the boys change places on the platforms, they rotate along the poles at the end of each song, when they reach the end they get off and sit down as another boy starts at the other end. They sit opposite, stealing glances at me, giggling, I am the only customer. I start to wonder exactly who is for sale here. The attention, although restrained, is almost overwhelming.
Another drink, yes, Mam-San, of course. She is very giggly now, and comfortably familiar, patting my arm or my leg to emphsise what she is saying. What is she saying now? Something about number 15 again, he likes me apparently. He is very accomodating. He will look after me. He is a good boy. It all sounds so comforting, so easy. Mama-san has explained the procedure, the off-fee for him to leave the bar, they can arrange a room for us. She mentions the short-term hotel. I make a mental note, just in case. I can't be taking anyone back to my hotel. Hang on, what . . . am I starting to take this seriously?
There's another drink in front of me, but I need to go to the toilet. Where is . . . oh, behind the shower. Ok. Be quick, the shower show is about to start. Damn, I meant to be out before then. But I am busting. I stand, and manage to squeeze past the the end of the platform. One of the boys jumps up and opens the door for me, another broad, irrestibly winning smile. I smile back. The toilet is clean, thank god. Standing there, unzipping, and suddenly I feel hands on my shoulders. What the . . . they start massaging my shoulders, I glance behind me, it is the bathroom attendant. He smiles. I am lost again. He continues to massage, I try to relax, to enjoy what he is doing and to relieve myself. Now that's hard, I'm not normally pee-shy in a public toilet, but I've never had a massage before while I was trying to pee. It takes some concentration, but it can be done. I zip up, and wash my hands. Hot towels are offered. Fortunately I notice the small tray by the door with the 20 baht note on it. I add another. Big smiles, and a deep bow as the door is opened for me.
I go through the door and literally bump full on into number 15 coming off the platform. He smiles shyly, and I move past him. I look back, and he does the same as he goes through the door. A more confident smile this time. Hell, I hope I haven't encouraged him too much.
Mama-san pats the bench for me to sit on the other side of her, I will get a better view she explains. The lights go down abruptly, the boys cheer and whistle as a spotlight comes up in the shower stall. Two bodies enter, and as the light gets brighter I recognise numbers 15 and 11.
Mama-san is grinning broadly.