by J. F. Gump
Mike watched the bed for a few minutes, hoping maybe her bra and panties would follow the jeans and shirt, but they didn’t. He picked up his book, found where he could last remember stopping, and resumed his reading. Again, he could not concentrate on the story.
After a few minutes, he set the alarm clock, turned out the lights, and lay down on the sofa. He had his clothes on and figured that was enough to keep warm. The air conditioner blew directly on his feet. He covered them with a towel, but it didn’t help. He was freezing, but he refused to turn off the air conditioner. He didn’t want a repeat of last night’s sweat bath. Finally, after ten frigid minutes, he relented. “It’s my fucking bed,” he mumbled to himself.
He got up from the sofa and walked to the side of the bed away from Math. He stood there thinking for a minute. At last he decided he was not going to sleep with his clothes on. He pulled off his shirt, then let his jeans slide to the floor. He sat quietly on the edge of the bed and gently eased his body into a prone position. He shifted a little to make himself more comfortable. Suddenly, he felt himself falling. There was a loud thud as the bed slats hit the floor and he bounced against the wooden side rails. Math was rolled from the other side of the bed and came to rest against his naked body.
“What happened?” she asked in the darkness.
“I think I broke the bed,” Mike said laughing.
“Poom poi, fat man,” she said, laughing with him.
When he turned to look at her, her face was only inches from his. Without thinking, he kissed her. Without thinking, she kissed him back. Their kiss was brief, but it was enough.
“I think I should fix the bed,” he said, feeling embarrassed. He started to get up.
On impulse, Math took him by the arm. “I think you should stay here.” She hadn’t been with a man for a long time and she had never made love with farang. She wondered what it would be like to have sex with a farang.
When she pulled him back into the bed, he resisted, but only a little. They eased over to her side, where the mattress still looked and felt like a bed. After a moment of embarrassed hesitation, Mike unsnapped her bra and slipped it from her arms. Tenderly, he touched her breasts. Math felt a flame course its way from her chest to her thighs.
Slowly, patiently, he explored her body, touching everywhere, lingering nowhere. He put his lips to her cheek. Inch by inch, he kissed his way across her face, down her neck, and into her cleavage. He felt the scar on her chest but said nothing. His tongue darted quick laps around her nipples. He gave her right breast a soft but firm bite, then continued down her stomach, kissing at every stop. He paused briefly at her womanhood and inhaled loud enough for her to hear. He left her panties untouched. His lips and tongue paid special attention to her inner thighs and the inside bend of her knees while his hands kneaded and massaged the nipples of her breasts into tight, hard knots. Suddenly, he stopped and rose to his knees. He reached out and took her by the hand. “I need you,” he whispered.
“I need you too,” she whispered back, breathless.
Slowly, he eased her panties down over her hips. She did not protest. In a moment, the panties joined the rest of their clothes on the floor. Mike stretched out on the bed next to her. His hand slid toward her womanhood for the first time.
Math tensed but did not push him away. She was not on birth control pills. What if he used no protection and she got pregnant? She felt his hardness throbbing against her side. She parted her legs for his hand to touch. She knew she should stop but she couldn’t. She was a kaleidoscope of emotions.
Math had only been with two men in her life and she had never been with a farang. One part of her was terrified, while another was excited beyond anything she had ever felt before. This farang, this man, this Mike, kissed her and held her and stroked her with such confidence and desire. He knew what he was doing and he did it well. Each touch, each caress, each kiss pulled her deeper into the throes of irrepressible lust. Within minutes, she was responding with passion she had never felt before. However much he thought he wanted her, at this moment she wanted him twice as much.
Mike had not been with a woman for months. Math felt so good beside him. Tonight he had had just the right combination of alcohol and marijuana, and his need was overpowering. He let go of all his inhibitions and lost his soul to the heat pulsing through him. At that instant, he wanted her more than anything in the world. Just when he thought he would burst from the passion, he rose up and positioned himself to take her. Then he eased himself into her, slowly, gently, eagerly.
Math’s desire was an inferno by the time he took her. She climaxed even before he had completely entered her.
He felt Math tense and heard her moan softly, as he joined with her body. It was all he could do to keep from ending this perfect moment before it had even started. He stopped briefly to hold her tight and whisper ‘you are so good’ into her ear. In a moment, the urge to climax passed and they made love. Soft and easy one minute, hard, thrusting passion the next. To never end would have been too soon. Finally, he gave in to the ecstasy of their union. He could not remember the last time he had had such a strong orgasm. Every cell in his body sang with the joy of Math. He wished the waves of release would never end.
Math climaxed for the second time as she shared Mike’s powerful orgasm. She climaxed one last time as he slowly, reluctantly, withdrew himself from her. For some reason, she wanted to cry.
“Thank you,” Mike whispered. “You were wonderful.” He paused for a moment, realizing how easily he had made love to her. No half-assed erection or mid-stream shutdown. It was the best he had felt about his lovemaking and himself in a very long time. “No, you were more than wonderful, you were absolutely perfect.”
Math smiled to herself and tried to say something but could not. Her tears kept her voice silent.
Mike reached over and touched her face. He felt the dampness. “Are you crying? Did I hurt you? I am so sorry if I hurt you.” The tone of his voice rang true.
“No,” she said. “I am crying because I am so happy. I have never had a man be so good to me. I felt very good, Mike. You will never know how good.” For no apparent reason, she giggled through her tears. “Please hold me, Mike. Please, just hold me for a little while.”
He pulled her close to him and held her tight. Not much later, they fell asleep holding onto each other. Mike’s sleep was deep and peaceful. Math dreamed of a baby with white hair and blue eyes.
Chapter 9
The next morning, Mike complained silently to himself when the alarm went off. As he dragged himself to the bathroom, he noticed that Math hadn’t stirred at the sound of the alarm or of him getting out of bed. He brushed his teeth, scanned the newspaper, did the puzzles, and took a quick shower. He left a note and 200 baht on the kitchen table. ‘For Food’ was all the note said.
He took one last look at Math still asleep on the bed, then left the condo to catch his ride. He wondered if she and his clothes would still be there when he came home. In the elevator, he glanced at his watch. Damn, he was late, really late. Between being late and what had happened Saturday night, he dreaded what was to come on the van.
Being late, in itself, would not be so bad, except he shared the ride with four other people. He was the next to last pickup and everyone gave him shit when he was late. He was not a morning person and was late on a regular basis. Everyone thought it was because he went out to party every night. The truth was that no matter what time he went to bed, getting up and moving was pure hell for him.
As he expected, the van was waiting. He slid the side door open and snaked his way to his seat at the back of the van. He had been in Thailand longer than the other riders and everyone knew which seat was his. Newcomers were promptly, and sometimes rudely, informed of his seating preferences. He didn’t mean to hurt anyone’s feelings with his bluntness, but he felt his seniority deserved a little respect. His seat was where the
powers of his seniority ended. Outside of that, he was open to shit like anyone else. Sometimes he dished it out; sometimes he took it. Usually, he just shrugged it off. After Saturday night, he wasn’t sure what today would bring.
As soon as the van pulled away from the curb, Randy, his friend and co-worker, started on him. “Hey, Mike. The girls at Toy’s told me you had quite an exciting weekend. You and Lek having problems?”
Mike didn’t respond to Randy’s question. He shut his eyes, slumped down into his seat, and laid his head back against the headrest.
Randy was the second longest term ex-pat from his company to Thailand. Mike had him out-timed only by a month or so. Too little to make any difference. Randy knew everyone Mike knew and then some. Randy, along with a few of his other co-workers, were known as “butterfly boys” by the bar girls. They changed girlfriends more often than some tourist changed underwear. Every night they would party until very late, but they always managed to go to work the next day. Mike could keep up with them about once a week then had to stop for rest. Randy and the other butterfly boys were a few years younger than Mike, which he figured explained how they could keep up that pace while he couldn’t. Mike knew for sure that the hangovers hurt a lot more than they used to.
When Mike didn’t answer, Randy said, “So, tell me about your new woman.”
Probably stealing me blind about right now, Mike thought. Aloud he said, “Catch me at lunch. I’ll tell you about it then.” Mike crossed his arms to signal the end of the conversation.
Randy took the hint. He would wait until lunch to satisfy his curiosity about Mike’s new affair.
The rest of the day went like that. Sly winks and innuendoes from Randy and his other co-workers. Mike told Randy everything while they ate lunch. Randy was uncharacteristically understanding about Mike’s concern over the things the girl might steal. He said a girl had once stolen a shirt from him and then actually had the nerve to wear it to work the next day. Randy was sure these Thai girls were capable of anything, from screwing your brains out to stealing you blind. His attitude did nothing to improve Mike’s mood.
Mike spent most of the day fantasizing. Sometimes about last night’s ecstasy and at other times about what he would find, or not find, when he got home. He had vivid mental images of his condo being completely empty. No clothes, no suitcases, no CD player, no nothing. Everything he had wasn’t much, he tried to convince himself. Only a few hundred dollars worth of replaceable items. Still, it was all he had here in Thailand, and the potential loss toyed with his mind.
By the time Mike got home, it was almost dark and his nerves were frazzled, more from worry about his condo and his clothes than from his day at work. The door key had been left at the lobby’s front desk. The boy working the desk spoke no English and Mike’s questions about who might or might not be in his condo were answered with non-comprehending smiles. He rode the elevator to his floor.
The door was already unlocked. He entered the condo, expecting the worst. Instead, there stood Math. She was dressed in a short-cut nightgown. Her long, silky-black hair fell seductively across her shoulders. She had put on just enough make-up to be noticed. A candle burning in a glass jar on the table cast an eerie, provocative glow about the room.
“Sawasdee ka, Khun Mike,” she said in a low voice. “Welcome home. I am happy to see you.” She pulled him inside the room, pushed the door shut and locked it behind him. She reached up with her face and kissed him quickly, tenderly, passionately on his lips. “I have been waiting for you,” she whispered, as she edged him to the bed. “Tonight, right now, I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel last night.”
Without hesitation or embarrassment, she undressed him. When he was completely naked, she held him in her arms and eased him back onto the bed. Using only her hands and her mouth on his body, she brought Mike to the verge of ecstasy within a matter of minutes. She stopped just before he climaxed. After a long pause, she slipped off her nightgown and mounted him, slowly yet firmly. This time she was in control. Over and over again she teased him to the point of eruption before stopping her selfless yet self-absorbent undulations. Just as she felt his climax begin, she withdrew herself from him. Without hesitation, she took his manhood into her mouth. She did not flinch or pull away. Neither his wife nor any other woman had ever done that before.
“Thank you,” he said, when he could speak.
She smiled and kissed him. She was satisfied knowing she had made him happy. “I will take a shower now,” she said, as she tiptoed to the bathroom.
Mike could taste the saltiness of himself from where Math had kissed his lips. He used the back of his hand to wipe across his mouth. His lips still tasted salty, but this time it was more like sweat. He lay there basking in a contented glow and listening as Math took a shower. In less than two minutes she had finished. A moment later, she emerged from the bathroom fully dressed and looking like nothing had happened only minutes before.
“I will cook some dinner,” she announced and proceeded to make kitchen noises with pots and pans and knives and water.
Mike slipped into the bathroom while she was busy in the kitchen. He stood under the shower for a long time. As the water washed away every last trace of their lovemaking, he tried to decide what he thought about her.
She was half his age and actually more beautiful than he had first thought. She seemed to like him or at least she seemed to like having sex with him. Maybe she was a nymphomaniac or something. She had come home with him so easily on Saturday that he thought she might be a bar-girl. On the other hand she had never asked him for money, and now she had moved in with him, clothes and all. How, he wondered, could a regular Thai girl go with a stranger so easily? And an old farang at that! Maybe she had a thing for older men. How could she be so trusting or so stupid to think nothing would happen to her? He mused over the situation while the water poured down on his body. He couldn’t figure it out. He decided he would just enjoy the moment until he found a good reason not to.
Mike was surprised at the food Math cooked for him that evening. He had never liked Thai food much, but what she cooked was delicious. It was much better anything than he had ever tasted in a Thai restaurant.
After dinner, Math asked if he would go out with his friends from work. She explained she didn’t want him to stop seeing his friends because she was there.
He thought a long time before he answered. “No, not tonight,” he said. “I would rather stay home and learn about you. I want to know who you are. I want you to tell me about you. Where you are from, what your childhood was like, and all about your family. I want to know your hopes, your dreams, and your fears. I want to know the girl who is sleeping in my bed and making love with me. I want to know you.”
“I want to know who you are too,” she responded without pause. “I saw your photo album today. You tell me about yourself first.”
“Okay.” He retrieved a cold beer from the refrigerator, sat at his desk and smoked what was left of the joint, then proceeded to talk. He told her about his childhood and his family. He talked about his mother and his sister. When he talked about his father’s death, he didn’t tell the whole truth. When he recounted his time in Vietnam, he didn’t tell her everything about that either. When he talked about his life today, he didn’t mention his wife or his son. Finally, he stopped talking.
They sat in silence for a long, uncomfortable minute. Mike knew they were both thinking the same thing. Math broke the quiet. “I saw a farang lady’s picture in your album. Is she your wife?”
“Yes,” he said, blushing. He offered no other comment.
She knew he didn’t want to talk about it, so she changed the subject. “When you were in Vietnam, did you kill anyone?”
“I hope not,” he answered. “If I did, it was not on purpose.”
“Did you ever make love to a Vietnamese lady?”
He stared at her,
a surprised look on his face. “What kind of a question is that?”
“I just wondered if making love to a Vietnamese lady is the same as making love to a Thai lady.”
He laughed. “Oh no, Thai ladies are much better, and you are the best of all.”
Math flushed with pride. “Khop khun ka, thank you,” she said, smiling.
“Now it is your turn,” he said. “Tell me about your life.”
Math told him her life story. She told him about her brothers and sisters and growing up. She described the river behind her house in Phitsanulok, where she and Anan would swim. She told him about her heart operations and her schooling. She talked about her career, which had started and ended within six short months. She spoke of her dogs as if they were her babies. But she didn’t mention her mother’s failed abortion or her father’s brutal beatings. She didn’t tell him about running away to Pattaya when she was sixteen. She didn’t tell him about her secret lesbian desires or the embarrassment they caused her. She didn’t mention her affair with the married policeman. Especially, she did not tell him about shooting her ex-fiancé. Finally, Math, too, stopped talking.
“Your life has not been easy, has it?” Mike said when she finished.
“It could be worse,” she replied.
“Or better,” he added.
“Yes.”
They sat there for a long time, not talking. Finally, Math reached across the table and took him by the hand. “Would you make love with me again tonight?” she asked.
He stood and pulled her gently from her chair. He led her to the bed. “I would like that more than anything in the world,” he answered.
Their union was long and slow. Full of closeness without thought for physical release. Sweet, human passion without the animal lust. He would have melted and fused his very soul into hers, if he could. Just when he thought the bliss would never end, it did. Together they reached the height of their passion in toe-curling ecstasy. They held onto each other for a long time.