Big Mango Bar
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1st time in Thailand by snakewalk

Posted by snakewalk | Blog, Reader Submissions | Posted on June 23rd, 2011

eds note – Another 1st time reader submission!    Thanks ‘snakewalk’  ……  keep them coming chaps!

Thinking back to when I was just a teenager with bits of hair sprouting from my chin aswell as my balls, I wasn’t too interested when my parents told me they were off on vacation.  I was too busy playing Donkey Kong II and masturbating over Vanessa Paradis videos.

After a few weeks of me eating everything in the house and wearing every item of clothing that I have (and some of my sisters), their return was most welcomed.

When my folks returned home they came bearing magical gifts like designer clothing, VHS movies, huge zippo lighters, sunglasses and Bolex watches.  At 1^st I thought they’d robbed a trailer park but was soon informed that all these luxury goods were picked up on their hols.

After the fuji films were returned from the chemist, we were shown photographs of a wonderful place called Thailand.  At 18 and only interested in wanking and cheap beer, I must admit that the snaps looked good.  As did all the crap that they brought back.

My Sister and I started pleading with the folks to take us with them next time. Their next planned vacation wasn’t for another 2 years, so we threatened to tell the neighbors that my folks were beating us and held us captive – unless they took us sooner.  And that my sister is also my mother.  Or something like that.

The 12 months dragged.  Being 18 with hormones bursting out of my pants and having the body of a God was infuriating.  I’d heard stories of beautiful women and golden beaches and wanted to get amongst it.

After a long and boring flight with ‘might-not-get-you-there-Air’ we reached Thailand soil where I could finally kick back and relax.  I’d never been in a chair for so long in my life.  Well, apart from the 24hr sponsored pornomovie-athon when I was 15.  From the plane we then boarded a Volvo which at the time was a luxury car.  20 years on, the car is still being used by a well known soi 4 hotel and still being advertised as a luxury car! Moving on…..

My father was really into his relaxing, scenery, tranquil and quiet non-touristy resorts and had spent a lot of time with his pals in such places.  So, our first stop was a quiet resort called Pattaya.

We pulled up at a low budget hotel called Tossapon.  I think that’s what it was called? Or maybe that was the nick-name of a girl on reception called Pon?

A quick shower and squirt of Brut 33 saw me on my way to check out what Pattaya has to offer.  I was with my parents so knew it wouldn’t be ‘all’ Pattaya has to offer.

With the family, our 1^st port of call was a Swedish place called Hasse’s  on Soi 13 / 2.  Back then, the place was full of nice people.  A far cry from the Singha vest wearing tattooed yobs that can be found everywhere today. After stuffing our faces with meatballs and mashed potatoes, friends of my Dad started to pop up one after another. All of which were in different stages of drunk.  Some were hand in hand with a new wife for the night, some had the smell of the wife they just banged in a S.T room on them still and some were off in search for a new wife for the night.  It had me thinking what the hell kind of place is this, but more importantly how my Dad seemed to know all these guys?

It was dusk and we were all sitting outside Hotel and drinking. One of my father’s friends announced that it was time for me to join him and the other guys for a little trip without the family.  This was what I was waiting for, but was a little scared of what they had in mind.  After all, I was an 18yr old and this lot looked like they were no strangers to the dark side.

My parents being the caring, protective people that they are were expressing their concerns as the guys marched me away with them whilst shouting ‘ don’t worry, we’ll take good care of him’ along with ‘does he have medical insurance’ and ‘any identifying marks on his body’.   If my parents were not worried, I sure as hell was.

Looking back at my parents, they had already forgotten they had a Son and were opening up another bottle of beer.

I can’t remember the names of the bars I visited on 2^nd Road, but I do remember there were an awful lot of beautiful girls.  At the time, my choice of clothing was heavily influenced by Boris Becker, so I was sporting a pair of shorts.  At the time I thought this to be a bad idea, as many of the girls couldn’t resist a cheeky ‘reach-up’ my leg and get a handful of what I had to offer.  In hindsight, it was a good tactic as it proved much fun and plenty of action.  Being the strapping athletic 18yr old, my little shorts looked like I had more than just a couple of tennis balls stuffed down them.  Nowadays, if I were to walk around wearing those shorts, people might actually think I am Boris Becker.  Or just German.

Many drinks flowed.  The girls were great company and were feeding off my fresh young presence.  I was still a little scared of what to do, as there were many girls.  There was one that I liked more than the rest. Maybe because I was interested in her academic achievements and her view on local politics?  Or maybe it was because she had her hands around my purple-headed-throbbing-warrior that was about to go off like a fire hose if she didn’t stop.

The little cutie asked me if I’d like to go for a massage.  All the guys were jeering and laughing shouting encouragement and helpful advice like ‘Goooooooo ooooooon’.  And ‘geeeeeet iiiiiiiiiin theeeeeeeere’.

I was taken upto a bedroom with ensuite shower.  She undressed me and showered me down.  It was a little embarrassing having hardon so big that it should have had a fucking knee in the middle of it.  Worry was starting to set in, as I thought I might explode each time she washed near sensitive area.  Thoughts of dead kittens and blind babies were all I had to combat it.

I laid on the bed and let her run her hands all over the back of my body.  I am not really sure what the point of all this is.  It’s not like I have aching bones or arthritis.  The massage was just wasting time.  She was gonna get it.  And get it good.

After what felt like 17 months of massaging my back, she turned me over and gave a half hearted massage then put me out of my misery.

I’d like to say that I went like a train for hours.  That the girl lost more fluid through orgasms than if Id of severed her main arteries.  I’d like to say that I performed so well that Charlie Sheen’s changed his drug of choice to a drug called ‘Snakewalk’. I’d like to say that I will be remembered by the cutie for a long time to come.  But I can’t.  I’d be lying. Well, she may of well remembered me for a long time, but it wasn’t because of my marathon sexathon.    I’d like to think that those 3-4 minutes were among the best she’s had in years.. Although, reality says she’d probably had better in that hour.

Even so… I had my 1^st out the way.     Walking down the stairs like a new born giraffe I was met with cheers, clapping and whistles from the people that my parents had entrusted to take care of me. They were handing money over to my girl for some reason. I am guessing they must of borrowed it from her at some point?   Wanting to get the hell out of there once I had done the deed, we all went back to the bar where my parents were swigging on more beer.    It may have been a comfy relaxed atmosphere at the bar where we were all enjoying a drink, but for me it was an interrogation.  All that was missing was my parents to stuff a lamp in my face and electrocute my balls.

Where have you been?  What have you done?  Why is your hair wet?  Why do you smell of soap?  Why are you smiling?

Before I could answer any of the questions, one of the guys shouted ‘Happy Ending’!

My Dad laughed… my Mother looked a little embarrassed and I just sank low into my chair and sat there quietly thinking about my next encounter.

Roll the clock forward 20 years and I find myself living in Thailand for the past 7 years.   There is not much I haven’t done here.  I have a memorable tale about a BJ under the lower Suk bridge for 300bht, but that’s for another time.

One things for sure though, I’ll never forget my 1^st day in Thailand