Impulse

Tangled, Porn, and I woke early. We undressed under the sheet. Porn assumed the dominant female position. She rode me, her breasts visible, not her lower half, 'til my load filled her.

I relaxed in bed as she showered.

We enjoyed a street breakfast and boarded a canal boat to the famed floating markets. We travelled through the city's canals and along broad rivers. An explosion of produce, crafts and entertainment hit my eyes. Cobras, crocodiles and Muay Thai filled the day with a vibration of action.

We readied at the hotel in the late afternoon to attend a cultural experience evening. Thai cuisine, finger dancing and shadow puppets made for a fun evening.

Porn wore a light blue cotton dress.

We arrived at the venue by a charter bus that picked us up at the hotel. We entered a massive banqueting hall and sat in a group of twenty at a low-style table.

The entertainment combined the classy and memorable. The Thai dancers were exquisite. Their finger movements and sumptuous traditional costumes burned in my memory due to their sensuality.

The offered dishes invited generous tasting - a sampling of the delights of life. A saffron-suffused dish lit up my taste buds and floated aromatic through my nostrils.

Porn targeted attention to my appreciation as I participated in her world. We paired hands low as we enjoyed the entertainment together.

On the bus returning to the hotel, Porn mesmerised me as she weaved her fingers, butterfly filigree, in a dance sequence.

She gave a private show for my eyes only.

Patsaporn's clear polished nails spread and flashed. More dazzling as they flickered, highlighted by the passing street's neon signs. Bars boldly advertised peep shows or live sex on stage.

Porn's fingers webbed subtle as saffron.

I grasped and visualised her as a Ram Thai dancer — a young woman, anywhere, barring here.

As we strolled off the bus, our fingers looped.

Complete content inhabited me.

Porn stepped lightly; her dress slightly twirled.

She broke her water routine when I encouraged her, holding her hand, "Let's share a drink tonight."

Daiquiri came to mind; I couldn't picture her drinking gin, whiskey or rum.

We tippled a daiquiri, a straw on each side. My head nestled closer to Porn.

My senses roused beyond alcohol.

Like an opened coconut, a fresh and fulsome scent lay captured in her sweeping hair. An entwined evening merged into an interlaced night.

Porn and I slept soundly, coupled.

Another day. We ventured and appreciated the city sites—Wat Arun: Temple of Dawn, where pavilions and statues invite contemplation. We climbed steep stairs leading to stunning views of a city river. In the afternoon, Wat Pho, with its famous impressive reclining Buddha, the soles of its feet inlaid with mother of pearl depicting auspicious symbols.

Later in the evening, we relaxed on the hotel bed.

Holding my passport, she sweetly said, "Luke, you look the same."

Porn showed me the small photos she kept in her purse. They included her brother in the army, her younger sister and mother, who lived in Chang Mai. She showed me the details of her life outside a hotel room.

I saw her identity card, passport size and the issue date; she was eighteen.

Was this before or as she started her street life? 

I cringed as ugly introspection smacked; what was I doing here?

Abruptly, I insisted she put her photos away.

My hands flurried, and Porn complied, fumbling in her rush.

Now off the bed, I paced the narrow space.

Fleetingly, I spread my hand. I gripped and guided her by her butt to the bed - above the sheets.

I screwed her without consideration of her feelings.

We had a total disconnect above the waist.

She played her part, in part.

I plotted full of complex frustrations— your arse is next as I slipped into a restless sleep.

Days they rolled.

Let's make this last day memorable. 

I yawned and stretched.

Immediately, I gestured to Porn to sit on my face. I licked her out, eyes closed. I savoured her sweetness until a sourness tinged and overwhelmed me.

My days in Bangkok slipped and slid to goodbye.

I asserted control.

We had a Western breakfast in the hotel restaurant. I questioned Porn in a cursory manner about authentic souvenirs. Deferential and obliging, she guided me to places where she bargained on my behalf.

Hopeless at haggling— she helped me select the trinkets you feel obligated to cart home to your family as part of a trip.

We finished the day at a jewellery and silk store. Porn bargained for a piece of apricot silk cloth as a present for my mum.

I coasted to the gemstones and jewellery cabinets.

My eyes were drawn by a cute, light red gem set in a pendant necklace on a gold chain. I purchased the ruby on impulse.

The girl at the counter nestled it in a jewellery box. I indicated no wrapping paper.

Porn assumed a gift in Melbourne as I handed her the small red box, which she initially didn't take.

She held it unopened with a brief stare of incomprehension.

I directed casually, "Open it, put it on," with a wave of my hand.

Her mouth opened, lost for words.

After she slipped around her neck, Porn tilted her head, expecting me to clip the chain.

I gave the necklace to her without considering the meaning of the gift.

By herself, she clasped the chain. Her middle finger caressed the stone, and it suited her olive skin. The stone shimmered and glimmered.

Porn's eyes sought mine.

My non-reaction shattered her.

I watched her chest cave.

She broke eye contact and rummaged through the store silk bolts.

I picked the shopping bag up and added clipped, "Porn, taxi."

We returned to the hotel, the bag between us on the seat.

In the room, I busied myself, jamming gifts in my travel bag.

Hushed and muted, we descended for a final meal.

I selected a Western-style restaurant near the hotel. The menu steak satisfied me. I tore into it and wolfed chunks.

Porn picked at her noodles and drank bottled water.

I studied her eyes —their brown deepness repressed a potential deluge.

I squirmed on my chair, and my knife and fork clattered on the dinner plate. Gravy splotched to the crisp white tablecloth.

I abruptly stood and strode to the bar.

Okay, I overstepped in a transactional world. 

Equally, she contributed!

I ordered a double shot of proof Mekhong. Its intense aroma and full taste braced me. I sculled it, standing at the bar.

Porn shrank alone at our dinner table.

The Mekhong portended hardcore.

I ordered a second shot without delay. Half the glass swilled in a burning gulp. Unsteadily, I thumped the swirling shot glass on the counter. The remaining goldish spirit rippled back and forth like waves. I wafted the amber concoction aroma and discerned lemongrass, cumin, and liquorice.

Porn caught my steeled eyes.

Blunt, I dictated, "Leave your dinner, go upstairs."

Her noodle bowl cooled unfinished.

I sensed she knew the impending finale.

Complex inclinations clashed behind my eyes.

My ego impulse decreed, gouging her arse. 

My conscience implored me to seek her heart. 

No asking, no sharing.

The partaking fell away.

I closed my mind, jaw set, and determined to take.