Wednesday, 12th August 2020 - 10:07:46 am
As the taxi manouvered it’s way through the midday congestion of Chaweng Beach I couldn’t help reflecting on the fact there’s someting about Thai beachside tourist destinations that has a boring sense of samesness about them. Samui, Phuket, Pattaya, the geographical locations might be different but it’s always the same formula. Beer bars, massage, Thai restaurants, Seven Elevens, Tour agent booths, small hotels and tourist knick knack vendors jammed in side by side, along absurdly narrow streets for the amount of business activity taking place. It’s almost as though they’ve got this strange idea they are able to attract business by being right at the edge of the road along the footpaths, creating obstacles happy vacationers simply can’t fail to notice! Regardless of the psyche behind it, it’s a formula, so give them their due, which seems to work as millions pack in to get their fill of it year after year. The only saving grace amongst the chaos of it all at Chaweng was the airconditioned oasis offered by an afternoon latte at Starbucks.
A few minutes later the driver pulled clear of the beach road congestion and sped off towards the airport in steadily increasing rain. I sat back and thought about Pete. Pete, or Peter Wilson to be exact, was another over fifties expat retiree who’d caught the Thailand bug after his initial first visit. Originally from Sydney he’d moved here a couple of years ago after selling off a reasonably successful business, with the intention of retiring to an idyllic life in the tropics. When we first met we’d been staying at the same Condo Complex, in Bangkok, and had become drinking buddies at the restaurant on the premises. At the time he was also building a twenty million Baht house, near Korat, at an idyllic location next to Khao Yai National Park. Pete was a keen officianado of the game of golf and his property was located right on the edge of one of the best golf courses in the country. I say his property with tongue in cheek, because the fact was, he’d completed the ownership through the questionable foriegn company method.
The company route was a popular option a lot of expats used for making large investments in the local property market to circumvent the idea of putting complete ownersip in a local wife, or girlfriends, name. The problem was it was in a bit of a grey zone when it came to Thai foriegn business law due to the fact a property, without the connection to any real business activity, couldn’t really be construed as a legitimate foreign owned business enterprise. I knew a number of guys who’d bought property through the company option only to find increased scrutiny from government agencies was creating all sorts of problems. Besides having to fork out an array of ongoing expenses – company tax, employees taxes and regular audit fees - to measure up to the requirements of having a foriegn owned busines all, by law, had to include a majority of Thai shareholders. Increasingly, those representing the Thai component, were being asked to prove how they got their shareholders capitalisation. In the end the stress of possibly losing their house for fraudulent misrepresentaion had many selling up quickly at a loss to avoid the glare of government busy bodies. Pete, rightly or wrongly, had managed to get around that difficulty by being well connected. His wife’s father was a high ranking police chief in the area.
I hadn’t seen him for quite a while after his move to Pak Chong, due to his immersion in the local hiso scene up there. Business and golf rub shoulders with the elite of the area, and had kept him out of Bangkok for long stretches. He’d turned up unexpectedly one night, a couple of months ago at my apartment saying he was having problems with his wife. After a few days, and a few beers, he’d finally revealed he, being a simple sort of fellow at heart, had had enough of the pretentious hiso scene and wanted out.
Unfortunately for Pete, like so many others before him, he was beginning to realise retirement in Thailand wasn’t working out to be a cheap exercise. In fact he’d spent all his cash reserves on the construction of the house in Pak Chong and his only income stream was his monthly rent from his Sydney home. He was barely keeping his head above water. After informing his wife he wanted to sell up, and move back to Bangkok, she’d gone nutters and threatened him with family retribution. Things had gone steadily down hill from there and he’d put the wheels in motion to sell the property without telling his wife. When she finally found out she, with the aid of her relatives and local lawyers, kicked him out of the house. The problem for Pete was although he’d got around putting the property entirely in her name through using a company she was still the major compulsary shareholder, as required by Thai law, which meant she still had the upper hand when it came to shareholders decisions. Even though Pete was loath to admit it Amm, his wife, still had the controling interest. Having no choice, he’d moved into a small apartment in Korat and had made the mistake of being seen with some local demonidanes of the night. When his missus heard the news he was told, in no uncertain terms, it would be a good idea to leave Korat and not come back.
After turning up on my doorstep he’d managed to get an apartment in the same building and eventually revealed he’d become a nervous wreck putting up with his wife’s emotionally unstable nature. She, according to Pete at least, was a border line psychotic, constantly concerned about maintaining face in her pretentious little community. So much so that after a couple of torrid years of her never ending demands for cash, combined with his dwindling reserves, he was almost broke. The only option he had, or so it seemed, was to sell the property. Little wonder his wife had gone nutters. The “face” lost from having the house sold would be insufferable in her social circles; the fallout being she'd probably have to leave town, or risk staying and be humiliated.
A couple of days before I’d flown to Samui Pete had informed me things were looking better with his missus and he’d be going back up to Korat to patch things up. That was the last time I’d heard from him until the phone call late yesterday afternoon. Something just didn’t click, of that I was sure. Pete was dead against drugs after seeing one of his sons get into a bad way with a habit in Sydney. The fact his wife was well connected with the local Korat Police had me thinking only one thing; his arrest had been a set up.
After a smooth check-in at Samui International I settled in for the one hour flight back to Bangkok. I had a book on Buddhism I’d managed to get halfway through, during my stay at Chaweng Beach, and opened it up at the page I’d dog eared. A lot of it was the life philosophy of Buddha himself with insights and opinions added by the author, a practising Buddhist. One of the things that surprised me, according to the author, following Buddhist beliefs didn’t actually include any belief in some kind of god, or gods. It made me realise what was seen and practised as Buddhism, in Thailand, wasn’t necessarily to the letter the of way Buddha intended. Buddha, as many Thai mistakenly think, was not a god and, by paying hommage to his effigy, we are just acknowledging the spirituality of his long deceased persona. We are simply acknowleding his example of humility, compassion and truthfulness as a way to conduct our lives. Somehow handing over large sums of money to monks at a temple didn’t seem to fit with Buddha’s original philosophies about merit making. Baey had reiforced that point on me eighteen months earlier. Real merit was gained by being sefless and not by showing others how much you are dropping into the temples donation box. A lot of the nonsense that went on at temples was simply about business and nothing more. Theravada Buddhism in it’s purest form, was probably something to be admired. The local version, with it’s infusion of folk religion, was something to be suspicious of.
I put away the book and closed my eyes. My thoughts went back to those crazy few days, in Pattaya eighteen months ago. It all seemed like a bad dream now but time, and people, move on. I was happy I’d managed to patch things up with Nat but, save for a couple of brief get togethers, Baey and I had drifted apart. The last time I’d caught up with him was nearly six months ago. He was still doing the odd bit of P.I. work for Barry but since then we’d had very little contact apart from the occassional phone conversation. I determined, at the earliest opportunity, I’d contact him and organise a get together.
Coming back to Bangkok was a bit of a mixed blessing for me. I’d miss the idyllic beach life, and the laid back lifestyle, but there were also some negative aspects to be considered. Once you’ve hung out in a small community like Samui for a while those negative aspects start to become more obvious. Maybe it was the time of year I was there but Samui and Chaweng were certainly a bit of a young persons party town. I don’t mind a drink but there seemed to be a hell of a lot of what’s known as binge drinking going on there. I’d had a couple of nights out but after a bad experience with a psychotic freelancer one night I’d kept to regime of early nights. Whether it was the influence and discipline of the healthier approach to life I couldn’t be one hundred percent sure but I was becoming very aware of the fact working girls (read hookers) were actually quite unhealthy specimens. Besides being drunk nearly every night many do drugs to stay slim and maintain energy levels into the wee hours of the morning. Do that long enough and it’d not hard to understand why many become emotionally unstable. Being celibate isn’t something I have a liking for, but sometimes it’s the wiser option when there’s a risk of bringing a drunk, or drugged, pyschotic working girl back to ones hotel room or apartment.
At just on an hour after leaving Samui my Bangkok Airways flight touched down at Bangkok’s Suvarnabhumi International Airport. It took the usual thirty minutes to disembark, collect my bags and make my way out through door number three of the arrivals hall. As I worked my way up through the crowd I spotted Nat standing off to one side looking cool and sphisticated in one of those stylish dresses she always seems to be wearing.
“Hi Nat, you look great,” I said, genuinely pleased to see her.
“Thanks. You need a haircut Mike, you look like a beach bum,” she said, giving me the standard cheek sniff.
“Thanks mum,” I said, with a wide smile and enjoying the reparte already.
“Hmmm, sometimes you need a mum,” she replied in kind.
I followed her lead towards the parking lot and a few minutes later we were whizzing down the expressway towards the city and Asoke. It wasn’t quite peak hour but traffic was already beginning to get hectic as we motored on towards the Petchaburi Road off ramp.
“I’ve got to go see a client about a unit in lower Sukhumvit. I’ll drop you off at your condo so you can sort yourself out. We can meet up at the restaurant later. Where would you like to go for dinner?” said Nat as she weaved around the traffic.
“I’ll give it some thought. I don’t suppose the Long Table is on the agenda?” I said.
“Please Mike, that’s not funny. I was quite upset for few days after that terrible tragedy there,” she said, giving me a rather curt look.
“Okay, sorry Nat. I won’t mention it again. Do you mind if I ask why you said I had bad Karma from the past?”
“What I really meant was your past life, not your past. You may have been involved in something where people had to die and now, in this life, you are in situations where people are also dying. That’s what I meant.”
“Do you really believe that. It sounds like superstition to me?”
“Well, it is what we Thai believe Mike. It’s part of our life philosophy.”
“Fair enough. Does that mean I’m a bad person?”
“No, it just means what happens can’t be helped. It’s part of your destiny.”
“Well, hopefully, it won’t happen again.”
“There’s no way of really knowing that Mike however, you can go some way to avoiding potential problems by not getting too involved in other peoples situations. You seem to have this fixation on helping people who’ve got themselves into trouble. I’m a bit worried about this new crusade you might be going on. What’s the story on that?” said Nat, as the traffic started getting even more congested.
“To be honest Nat I’m not really sure. A friend of mine from Australia called me late yesterday afternoon. He told me he’d got into a problem with his soon to be ex wife and was in need of some bail money to get out of the police lock-up at Nakhon Ratchasima.”
“I really don’t like the sound of this Mike. Anyway, where do I fit into all this?”
“Well, I was hoping you’d drive me up to Korat tomorrow morning?”
“Wow, that’s really short notice.” She sounded exasperated. “I don’t know if I can, I mean I’ve got clients lined up for tomorrow.”
“Fair enough. I’ll rent a car or, if the worse comes to the worse, I’ll just get a taxi up there.”
There was a bit of an uncomfortable silence as we both sat there locked in our own thoughts.
“Look Nat, I’m sorry for being silly and expecting you just to drop everything to help me. It was inconsiderate of me.”
“Sometimes you are Mike. Leave it with me and I’ll see what I can do. I’ve got a client up in Korat I need to see so I’ll try to reschedule my appointments for tomorrow,” she said, with a warming smile.
“Thanks Nat, greatly appreciated.”
“No poblems, you can thank me with champagne tonight. Anyway, apart from that jungle growing on your head, you look fit and healthy. It looks as though you’ve been taking care of yourself?”
“Yes I’ve been exercising daily, staying off the booze and sleeping early,” I said feeling rather proud of myself.
“I see. So did you find any farm girls to keep you warm at night?”
“Actually Nat it would quite easy for me to lie and say no.”
“Oh, so you did?”
“Believe want you want but no, I didn’t.”
“Yes, I’m beginning to find there’s something quite off putting about bargirls.”
“Why is that?”
“They’re not healthy people to be around.”
“You’re learning Mike. Don’t be too harsh on them though, they’re just trying too make their way in this life. Most of them have no other option as the Thai government, or their former Thai boyfriends or husbands, won’t provide financial support for them and their dependents,” she said as we finally turned down the off ramp and onto Petchaburi Road.
I checked my watch, it was just after four thirty. It had taken us just over an hour to get from the airport to Asoke and by the time Nat finally turned towards my condo building on Asoke Road the traffic was beginning to hit peak congestion. I didn’t envy her trip down to lower Sukhumvit.
“I don’t really feel like going too far tonight Nat so how about eight thirty at Ban Kaanitha?” I said as we came to a halt in the condo’s underground carpark.
“That sounds good. I should be finished by then. If I’m running late I’ll call you. Try not to drink too much before we go for dinner. I want to take advantage of the fact you’ve been celibate for the past month,” she said giving me that look of sexual predation I’d come to know.
“Feeling horny are you?” I said with a smirk.
“You’ll find out tonight,” she said, reaching across and giving my penis a squeeze.
I became instantly erect.
“I think I better get moving now, otherwise I’m going to ravish you here in the car,” I said, reaching for the door.
“Sorry Mike but I’m a respectable Thai lady,” she said, giving me another sniff on the cheek.
“Of course,” I said, with a lascivious grin.
“Don’t forget about the haircut please,” she said as I got out of the car.
“Yes mum,” I said, grabbing my bags from the back seat.
“Sometimes you need a mum. See you at eight thirty,” she said as I closed the rear door.
As I walked towards the lift lobby Nats’ white Honda SUV dissappeared into the traffic chaos of Asoke Road. Even though I’d miss the beach bum lifestyle there was no denying it was great to return to the creature comforts of my apartment.
I’d moved here after coming back from Pattaya. It was in a great location in terms of accessibility to public transport, the MRT and BTS stations being just a few minutes walk away. I dropped my bags in the bedroom and immediately got the kettle on the boil. I had a few things to sort out before meeting Nat for dinner and needed a stiff injection of caffiene. I picked up the phone and went to Nat’s number. I’d forgotten to ask her if she knew of a decent hotel in Korat, no doubt we’d probably be spending the night there. I punched in a short message, asking as much, and a couple of minutes later her reply came through, “The Ratchapruk Grand Hotel.” I made my coffee and sat down in front of the balcony; the double full length glass, sliding doors allowing an impressive view of Bangkok from twenty one floors up. I needed to call Det, Pete’s Lawyer, to confirm I’d be travelling up to Korat the following morning.
“Hello Khun Det, it’s Mike Johnson,” I said after hearing the standard Thai “Halloo.”
“Ah, yes Khun Johnson. I’ve been waiting for your call. Are you traveling up to Korat tomorrow?”
“Yes, I should be there around midday.”
“Will you be booking into a hotel at Nakhon Ratchasima?”
“It will probably be the Ratchapruk Grand. I’ll send you an SMS later to confirm. Have you had anymore information regarding Pete’s arrest?”
“Well, yes as it happens I’ve just finished talking with him. It appears he was arrested shortly after visiting his wife here in Nakhon Ratchasima.”
My suspicions were being further strengthened by this latest piece of info.
“Well, according to Khun Peter, shortly after he left his wifes’ family home he was stopped by the police and they found drugs in his vehicle.”
No doubt, a set up. The deceit in this place is bottomless.
“Okay Khun Det, I think I’ve heard all I want to hear for the moment. I’ll text you tomorrow morning to let you know roughly what time I’ll be in Korat and where we can meet.Thanks for the update and if you see Pete again today tell him I’ll be there with the bail money tomorrow afternoon.”
“Okay Khun Mike, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I put the phone down and took a few deep breaths. This had the potential to get messy. After the last crazy rollercoaster, of Chris’ death, I really didn’t need to be getting embroiled in another farang self inflicted shit fight again. I’d pay the bail and, after that, let Pete sort it out for himself. I knew he had a milliondollars in property in Australia so there wouldn’t be anything to worry about regarding getting paid back. It would happen eventually.
I finished my coffee, phoned the restaurant to make the reservation and, after a quick shower to freshen up, readied myself to head down to lower Sukhumvit for a haircut. Just before stepping out the door I did a quick internet search for the Ratchpruk Grand on Agoda. Rooms were available at a reasonable rate so I did an online booking for one night. I took the MRT from Petcaburi to Sukhumvit and, with twilight fast approaching, decided get a bit of exercise by walking to Soi five. By the time I reached the corner of Soi Eleven the human circus that comes to life, as darkness descends, was kicking into gear for the evening. I didn’t particularly enjoy this part of Bangkok anymore as it had become the Thai version of hells kitchen. If it wasn’t for the fact I’d been using the same hairdresser for the past five years I wouldn’t bother going there. The food carts were out crowding the street corners, causing the usual bottlenecks, as cars and pedestrians dodged around them. The stretch between Soi eleven, and Soi seven , was already filling up with streetwalkers staking out their own little bit of the pavement. The Thai hookers looked rough enough but the Africans, beginning to increasingly appear, looked positively gross and it was really beyond me how guys would actually pay to have sex with them. Alcohol, of course, was always the thing making these ladies appear a whole lot better than they really were.
I walked quickly past their “come ons” and swung right into Soi seven. To avoid the mess of street side hawkers stalls running down the sidewalk to Soi five I was going to use the narrow access tunnel between the two Sois. Just beyond the turn into the tunnel the bright neon of the Biergarten flashed to entice the early evening punters into one of Bangkoks’ most well known freelancer venues. It was a popular spot for punters and working girls nearing retirement age. I’d been in a few times but always left unaccompanied as most of what was on offer was, to put it bluntly, bottom shelf. Not that I’ve been free of guilt by association in that regard it’s just one comes to realise many ladies who cross the line, and enter into the worlds oldest profession, become psychologically scarred. There’s no need to denigrate what they do as the karma of their chosen path catches up with them. Drug dependency, alcoholism, disease, poor health, physical abuse by perverted customers and the never-ending demands for money by relatives and Thai boyfriends, eventually takes its toll. The easy, hot money of the days of their youth, and beauty, quickly dries up as their physical charms fade.
An hour later I was feeling refreshed, after a trim and a shave, as I stepped out of the hairdressers and made my away across to Gullivers. I still had a bit of time to spare before meeting Nat for dinner, so I ordered a coffee and sat down at an outdoor table for a bit of people watching on Soi five. Soi five borders the Arab quarter and was alive with a colourful array of characters in the early evening bustle of human interaction. Groups of African guys gathered at laneway corners as Arab males, with their wives in full length body covering black shrouds and carrying bags of shopping, hurried along to their next food or shopping stop. As dusk gave way to darkness more “working girls” began to appear; the demonidanes of the night on the streets, and in the bars, hunting for their next paying customer. And, finally, the punters themselves, looking for a liaison with a female to satisfy their needs for that moment, or beyond. Those able to keep their liaisons to “just the moment” were the wise, disciplined, or long term players. It was those wanting it to go to something beyond “just the moment”, who always got into a pickle with the ladies of the night. Regardless of where you are in the world, a prostitute is probably not a very good choice for a long term relationship or marriage. Loneliness, and desperation have a lot to do with many foreigners thinking it can work and the lades play the ‘mark’ telling them everything they need to hear. The many web forums and books devoted to this subject are proof a long term farang/Thai prostitute relationship is rarely successful. The pity is many retirees lose their life savings, and sometimes thier lives, trying to make it so.
I sat back and took another slurp of my coffee in the close humidity of the early evening. Pete, in someways, was in a similar situation. Although his wife Amm had never been anywhere near a bar in her life, she exuded the same kind of visceral greed towards life many gold digging bargirls possess. In that regard she wasn’t dissimiliar. I’d met her a couple of times and seen the look in the eyes and knew, even before he married her, Pete was in for a hell of a ride. Amm was a ne’r do well hiso, a social climber, and saw Pete as means of getting a few rungs further up the ladder. I’ll give her the due though, she had the charm and beauty to pull it off. Pete, like so many guys with abundent means arriving on these shores, didn’t just want a wife, he wanted a trophy to parade around and that, to their eventual regret, was their Achilles heal. Amm, as long as the money kept flowing, was a willing participant in this ongoing, nonsensical Thai game of one-upmanship and gaining face. It was only when the flow stopped, or began to dry up, the true nature of the beast was revealed. As many seemingly wealthy farang who suddenly find themselves in a bit of a financial pinch here are apt to find out, a trophy wife is just a whore by another name. When the money dries up, the whore will start casting about for other sources.
I still had a few minutes to spare before making my way back to the apartment. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through the contacts until I found Baey’s number. It had been a while. Hopefully he wouldn’t be too busy to spare a few minutes shooting the breeze with me. I hit dial.
“Hi Mike, how are you?”
“Not too bad thanks mate. How about yourself?”
“Okay thanks Mike. Have you been back to Pattaya recently?” said Baey with a bit of a chuckle.
“No mate, I’ve kept well clear of the place. How about you, are you still working with Barry?”
“Sometimes, but not so much lately. I’ve been getting some high profile body guard work through Nat’s uncle.”
“That sounds pretty cool mate. Any interesting stories to tell?”
“No, it’s all quite boring really Mike. I just provide security for some high ranking generals sometimes when they head out on fact finding missions to the border areas. To be honest, our little adventure down in Pattaya was a lot more fun.”
“Hmmm, it’s not the kind of fun I’d care to repeat again.”
“Hey, I’m back in Bangkok for a while. Do you want to get together tomorrow for a couple of drinks?”
“As much as I’d like to Baey I can’t. I’m going up to Korat for a couple of days, “ I said silently rueing the fact I was forgoing the opportunity of hooking up with him.
“Okay, no problems. We can do it another time. What’s the attraction in Korat for you?”
“Nothing really notable to be honest. Just a friend of mine who’s got himself in a bit a situation and needs me to bail him out of the Nakhon Ratchasima Central Police lockup.”
“Another farang friend in trouble. Sounds as though you’re getting yourself into another Chris Lane adventure?”
“No mate, that won’t be happening. I’m just lending him one million Baht in bail money after which, he can sort out his own mess.”
“That’s alot of money to be handing over for someones bail Mike. You do realise there’s a good chance the bail won’t be returned by the Police?”
“I’m aware of that Baey but it isn’t an issue. The friend in question owns a twenty million Baht house, in Pak Chong, and a swank property in Australia. He’s a bit squeezed for cash at the moment but I know he’ll eventually pay me back.”
“Fair enough, I’m sure you wouldn’t be lending the money unless you knew the guy well. What was he arrested for?”
“I don’t know the full details yet mate but I spoke with his lawyer and he told me Pete, the guy I’m helping, was caught with drugs in his vehicle shortly after visiting his wife’s family home in Nakhon Ratchasima.”
“Hmmm, being a foreigner and getting caught with drugs is not a good situation to be in. Have you been able to talk with your friend about what happened?”
“I spoke with him briefly, late yesterday afternoon, and all he said was he had a problem with his wife and was in police custody and needed my help by providing the bail. He told me he’d give me the full story when I see him tomorrow.”
“How well do you know you’re friend, I mean is there a possibility he might be involved with drugs?”
“Well, I’m not going to say one hundred percent he isn’t but, in the time I’ve known him, I never saw anything to suggest he might be involved with drugs. If anything, he was very anti-drugs. Especially after finding out one of sons, back in Sydney, had a habit. I guess I’ll know the full story when I meet up with him tomorrow.”
“Okay Mike, I’ll catch up with you soon I hope. Let me know how things go with your friend and if you need help, I’m only a phone call away.”
“Thanks Baey. Greatly appreciated mate. Hopefully I’ll be back in Bangkok in two days time. I’ll give you a call and we’ll get together for those drinks.”
“I’ll look forward to it Mike.”
“Cheers Baey,” I said as we both ended the call.
I finished the last lukewarm remains of my coffee and made my way towards Sukhumvit. The sky train was always packed at this time of the day so I opted to walk to Asoke . The crowds were thick along the sidewalks but a cursory glance at my watch revealed I’d still have enough time to get back to my apartment, have a quick shower, and meet Nat on time at the restaurant.
I was a couple of minutes early as the staff ushered me into the foyer area of the restaurant. Nat was already there looking her usual sophisticated self as the waiting staff guided us to our reserved table near the window.
“You look much better Mike,” said Nat as the waiter handed us the menu.
“Thanks Nat. You’re still looking your elegant self as well. Was it a busy afternoon?”
“It was but I managed to rearrange things for our trip up to Korat tomorrow morning. Now, where’s that wine list?” she said giving me a cheeky grin.
“How long do you think will take us to drive up to Nakhon Ratchasima?” I said as a waiter passed Nat the wine list.
“I think it will probaly be about three hours or so. The traffic will be quite heavy, getting clear of Bangkok, but once we’re on the highway it will be a fairly fast trip. Why, do you need to get there by a certain time?”
“By midday or just after. I’ll be meeting with Pete’s lawyer at the hotel before I go down to the police station to pay the bail. I need to be able to give the lawyer an approximate time to meet.”
“If you don’t mind me asking Mike, how much is the bail?”
“One million Baht.”
“Oh my Buddha, that’s quite a lot of money to be throwing at your friend. It could be a fifty percent deposit on a house on the outskirts of Bangkok. I hope your friend Peter is a trustworthy type?”
“I wouldn’t go through with it unless he was. He’s a bit short of ready cash at the moment but he’s got a valuable property back in Australia and, besides that, he’s also got a house worth twenty million Baht in Pak Chong,” I said as Nat indicated her choice of wine to the waiter.
“Hmmm, what’s the story with his wife. You said he got himself into some sort of trouble with her?”
“To be honest Nat I don’t really know the full story. All I know is he fell out with his wife a couple of months ago and came down to Bangkok. He was staying down in On Nut with friends and things seemed to be going okay for him. Just before I went down to Samui he told me his wife had invited him up to Korat to patch things up. That was the last I’d heard from him until yesterday afternoon. In a brief phone call he told me he was locked up at the Nakhon Ratchasima Central Police Station, due to a problem with his wife, and needed my help. It was his lawyer who confirmed this morning Pete had been arrested for the possession of drugs, shortly after leaving his wife’s family home, yesterday afternoon.”
“I don’t like the sound of this Mike. It’s got the makings of your Pattaya adventure, mark two.”
“It may appear that way Nat but I’ve got no intention of doing anything more than lending him the bail money. After that I’ll leave him to sort out his own mess,” I said, trying to sound as convincing as possible.
“I certainly hope so Mike,” she replied with an imperceptible hint of doubt in her voice.
Our meals arrived and as we ate and drank in the cosy setting, we continued mixing light hearted banter with the occasional burst of serious discussion on past, present and future events. With the meal out of the way I was keen to get stuck into a bottle of red but Nat, the often times sobering influence in my life, opined I was already tipsy and with the early start in the morning, she was keen to head back to the condo for some horizontal folk dancing. The wine had us both in the mood for a bit of animal lust and by the time we entered my apartment we were tearing each others clothes off. We were both on heat, due to the past three weeks of celibacy but as I buried my face into her voluptuous exposed breasts she cooled the ardour of the moment by reminding me we needed to shower first. I couldn’t fault her hygenic principles as I was clammy with perspiration from the high humidity of a steamy Bangkok evening. Besides, a shower with Nat was always another journey into the erotic. My erection was still throbbing as I followed her into the shower cubicle. I closed my eyes and relaxed as she began rinsing me with warm water. After applying a good dose of shower cream to a soft wash sponge she began to lather me up, from head to toe, while at the same time expertly squeezing my erection to maintain it’s hardness. After a couple of minutes of being played with I couldn’t stand it anymore. I turned her around, so that she was facing the wall, and maneuvered in behind her. She knew the routine as we’d done it like this often enough before. She bent forward from the waist, placing her hands upon the tiles, then raised raised herself up on the balls of her feet as she arched her buttocks and invited me in. Without further hesitation I pushed the head of my engorged penis into her dripping wet pussy and as I worked it in up to the hilt, she shivered and moaned with pleasure. I took my time slowly building up speed, working it side to side, and then thrusting deeper and harder. I knew when she was near to orgasm as she would begin convulsing as she howled with a primeval, guttural sound. To get her to the maximum point of orgasm I reached around and began fingering her clittoris as I thrust ever harder and deeper. A few seconds later she pushed her buttocks hard into me as she stiffened and cried out in orgasmic pleasure.