Foreign Affairs

by Jacqueline George

  “So then the foreign girls get worried and start trying to wiggle their tails and strike up a spark of interest. But they've forgotten how to, if they ever knew. There just ain't nobody looking. It makes my day, just watching them. I love it. I feel like I'm getting my revenge for all those years...”

  So that was it. If Debbie and Pat wanted male company, they would have to work for it. Without discussion, they chickened out and decided to make for Chiangmai.

  The northern town felt very different. Much cooler for a start, and the town was older and more organised. Karen tribal villages were scattered in the bamboo forests covering the hills around Chiangmai. There tourism vied with discreet opium production as the major source of income. Nearer, they found Buddhist monasteries to visit, silk factories, potteries and museums. Their welcome from the local people was both friendly and efficient. Time evaporated like the morning mist, and too soon they caught the overnight train back to Bangkok.

  As the sun jumped into the sky next morning, the train coursed over the rice plains north of Bangkok. Island villages in a sea of green paddies clattered past, and they glimpsed a self-contained world that knew little of them and cared less. It was still only eight o'clock when the train dropped them. Pat would leave that afternoon, but Debbie still had two more precious nights. She had booked a room at the Nana and they rushed for a shower and breakfast.

  Pat's departure left a gaping void. They had only spent three weeks together, but together for every minute, even sharing the same bed. Debbie felt empty. She tried shopping in the area around the hotel, but her enthusiasm waned quickly and she returned.

  It was while she ate an early dinner that she finally admitted she had already planned her evening. The image of Pook and the Powder-Puff Club had never really left her, and it was inconceivable that she should leave Bangkok without visiting again. She forced herself to eat slowly, and deliberately dragged out the process of getting ready for the evening.

  As she climbed the narrow stairs to the club, she heard disco music pounding, but it faded down as she stepped into the room. The spotlights were on the centre stage, and the girls had just finished dancing. They were filing back across the gangplank toward their customers as Debbie stepped up to the bar. Pook pounced on her immediately. “You come back for me! I very happy. Come, I get you good seat. Where your sister? Not coming? Gone home. Oh, so sorry, eh? Never mind. You sit here and I take care for you. Please, you hold this.”

  Pook handed her the thin satin nightie she had been carrying and, still completely nude, called over the bar for drinks. She was standing on tip-toe, unconscious of her naked body as she reached for the drinks. Debbie looked at her with fresh eyes after little sister's revelations. “Pook, you're so beautiful it's sickening.”

  “So sorry,” said Pook with a grin that said she clearly was not, and passed over her beer. “Oh, I no have my shirt. Please.” She took the nightie and then stopped. “Or you like I stay like this?”

  “Er – however you like. I mean, however you feel most comfortable.”

  “OK. I put it on. For now. Later I take off for only you, OK?” She wriggled the scrap of clothing over her head. “Look at that old devil! If he do what he wanting, they very hurt I think.” She giggled.

  Sitting on a high stool with his back to the wall was a large American. Large in all directions and unmistakably an American oil man. Years of abuse had turned a tall muscular man into a tall fat one, and his belly stretched the check shirt over his giant brass belt buckle. He had hooked the heels of his cowboy boots onto the rungs of his bar stool and spread his knees wide apart. His eyes were closed, and his enormous hands rested on the shoulders of the two girls on either side of him. They were reaching over his thighs, and while their hands rubbed the swelling in his jeans, they nibbled his ears and whispered to him. The expression on his face could be read in any language. The man was in heaven.

  Debbie wrinkled her nose and turned back to Pook. “I hope I don't look like that.” Pook shrieked with laughter and wriggled into her favourite niche between the bar and Debbie's knees. She reached up with both hands to arrange Debbie's hair on her shoulders.

  “You take me out tonight, please? I give you number one massage.”

  “Would you like to go out? Shall we go and eat?”

  “Oh, no. I eat already. We go your hotel, and I make you happy, OK?”

  “But I've only just arrived....”

  “No problem. I go and change clothing, so you wait, OK? Now, you take me out, you pay to bar two hundred and fifty baht, OK? And you pay me again two hundred and fifty and I stay with you all night and make you happy too much. Good? OK. Now you give me for bar.” Taking the money, she twisted round and pushed her narrow bottom back into Debbie's lap as if to prevent her escaping. She turned back. “OK. I go change. You wait for me.”

  Three girls mounted the stage at the far end of the room and removed their nighties, ready for their showers. As Debbie watched, her heart pounded. She had the feeling of successfully getting away with something criminal. She had just hired a girl for the night, someone who was technically a prostitute. Good grief! What would everyone say? No one would believe it back in Somerset. Debbie was not sure she really believed it herself. Suddenly, she felt as if the eyes of everyone in the room were on her, and she began to pray that Pook would hurry. She forced herself not to look at the door of the staff changing room and concentrated on her beer.

  An age passed until Pook appeared at her elbow in a white satin cowboy shirt with dangling fringes and tight jeans. She carried a small purse. “We go now?” she asked.

  Pook gave the girls on stage a proud wave as they made for the stairs. Debbie followed her and soon left the narrow doorway she had entered just a short time before. Feeling detached from reality, she allowed Pook to lead and take a taxi. In the back of the taxi she drew Debbie's arm around her shoulders and snuggled up close. Her body felt strong and she smelled exciting.

  The hotel lobby was full of people who knew exactly what Debbie planned to do upstairs, and stared disapprovingly as she crossed the wide marble floor with Pook in tow. Or so she felt. In fact, the girl behind the desk handed over her key with no more than a polite smile, and they made their way to the lifts.

  Excitement churned inside her and the wickedness of her intentions gave her a sinking feeling deep in her tummy. She wanted to hurry, to get away from the public. The lift took forever to come down and save her. Pook stood a little apart, calmly watching the crowded lobby, and left Debbie alone with her nervousness.

  “Excuse me, Miss. Is this girl with you?” Oh God! One of the hotel security staff, a small oldish man in uniform, stood at her elbow. He obviously had a shrewd eye for people and recognised Pook for what she was.

  “Er – yes. She's my friend.” Debbie knew she was blushing furiously.

  The security man nodded. “Very good. So sorry to disturb you. Good evening,” and he left. At that moment, the lift arrived and Pook skipped in with a smile.

  As soon as the doors closed, she flung herself at Debbie, taking her by the waist and laughing. “Oh, Debbie. You go very red. You shy! He do nothing, not if I come here with you.” She pulled closer and rested her head on Debbie's chest. “Now I give you number one massage. Make you relax completely.” They stood for the rest of the trip, Debbie breathing through her perfumed hair and drawing warmth and energy from this strange child-woman.

  Debbie’s fingers trembled as the key opened the door and they passed into the softly lit safety of her hotel room. The corner of the bed had been turned down, ready for them. She found herself at the far end of the room looking down at the street below, acutely aware of Pook standing beside her. The cars below raced back and forth.

  Gently Pook took her hand and turned her away from the window. Pook stood looking up at her. Debbie was helpless.

  “Take off my clothing,” the girl commanded. Debbie saw her hands reach with a will of their own for the buttons of the white cowboy shirt and start
to fumble with the top one. Pook smiled. Strangely, slowly, the buttons came undone. Pook wore a small but severe bra underneath. Debbie reached around her to pull the shirt tails from her jeans, and suddenly Pook was in her arms.

  She held Pook to her, arms around her waist, until she pulled away. She shrugged off the shirt and pushed her narrow chest forward, urging Debbie to the fastening between her breasts. Debbie released her. Pook's breasts were small, firm, honey-coloured mounds with dark, pointed nipples. They both stared at them, and Pook gave them a shake. “You like them? They too small, not like you. You like?” She pulled Debbie's hand to her and closed it over one breast. It felt warm and resilient, alive to her touch and so perfectly rounded.

  Pook shrugged off her bra. “Now the rest,” she ordered, and Debbie knelt in front of the girl, unbuckling her belt. Under the jeans were plain cotton panties devoid of lace. “Go on. Take them also.” Debbie's heart turned somersaults as she put her hands to Pook’s slim hips.

  Not in her wildest dreams had she ever imagined herself doing this. She had no interest in women, no desire to see or to touch. Until this evening. She started to slide the panties down. Pook's flat stomach came into view, and then the springing of her black hair. Debbie pulled the unwanted garment free, and then she was looking at Pook’s secret place. Lightly veiled in short hair, her long lips curved away into darkness, closed and girlish in their simplicity. Debbie looked up and found Pook watching with a Madonna smile.

  “You like to see me, no?” It was true.

  As Debbie pulled the rolled-up panties down to her ankles and freed her completely, Pook buried her hands in the red hair below her. “Aiyee —so beautiful,” she sighed. She lifted Debbie's face, forcing her to look up into her eyes. “You sooo beautiful. Come up. I take off your clothing also.”

  Debbie stood as Pook's unbuttoned her blouse with quick fingers, pushed it off her shoulders and threw it onto the chair. “You are big,” she muttered, and reached around Debbie to slide the hooks of her bra loose. “Ooh! So big!”

  Debbie looked down at her breasts, which she had always thought of as about normal size. Pook was fascinated by them, cupping first one and then the other with both of her hands. “So big and they still good. Look out at me. You have babies, yes?”

  Debbie laughed. “No, not yet. And you?”

  “Yes. I have one baby. He with my mother. My milk finished now.” She looked far too young to have been a mother. Her hands reached for Debbie's waist. She dropped to the floor, and within seconds had stripped Debbie of the last of her clothes and was staring at her centre. Debbie felt a flush of embarrassment and tried to raise her.

  “No. I want look. You big here also!” She reached out to run her fingers through the ginger tuft in front of her. “Hmm. Big and beautiful. I like to be like this.” She allowed herself to be pulled to her feet, but then took charge again. “Now, you lie down and I give you nice massage.” She steered Debbie to the bed.

  Thankful that the scrutiny had ended, Debbie stretched out on her tummy. The mattress heaved as Pook knelt beside her and reached for her neck. Small cool hands began to wring the tension from her, but far from relaxing her mind, the massage heightened her senses. The skin of her hip prickled at the light touch of Pook's knee beside her. She heard her breathing a little heavily as she worked. Then, as Pook leaned forward, Debbie was electrified by the brush of hair across her shoulder. She rolled away onto her side. “No. No, stop. It's too much.”

  “What wrong? You no like?”

  “Oh, I like. Very much, but I want to look at you.” Pook smiled happily for a moment then jumped up and walked around the bed to the light switch. She dimmed the light to softness and stood over Debbie. “You like me, Debbie?” she pleaded.

  Debbie reached out, and she came to her, stretching out her honey-brown body half on and half off her and burying her face in Debbie's hair. She sighed deeply.

  Soon she was up again and wriggling on top of her. She started to kiss Debbie's mouth passionately. Debbie had no reserve left and returned the kisses. Pook's mouth went first to her ear, and then trailed down to her breasts. Debbie's stomach jumped as the fire spread within her. Her legs opened naturally to receive the narrow hips that were burrowing into her, and she welcomed the flat stomach that slid over her wet sex. Pook kneaded her breasts and tormented her nipples with sharp teeth and a flicking tongue. Debbie lifted her legs to press the wriggling body closer into her saddle, and Pook responded by butting against her rapidly. A climax swept in from nowhere and she was crushing her lover to her, panting and rocking from side to side. It seemed to last forever.

  As she relaxed and dropped her thighs, Pook raised herself on her elbows and smiled. “You come very quick! I think you are very hot lady, no?”

  “And I think you're absolutely magic, Pook. I've never done anything like that.” Without looking away, Pook started a rotary motion of her hips, grinding her hard little mound into the wet folds below her. Pook's dark, knowing eyes stared unblinking into hers. Debbie was helpless to resist, even if she had wanted to, and she closed her eyes. Another orgasm came and lasted even longer.

  Without warning, Pook had wriggled around in the bed and lay over Debbie's shoulder. She pressed her cheek against the delicate thigh holding her down as Pook's finger gently opened her petals. Pook was talking to herself in Thai, endearing sounds as she probed the wet folds. Debbie felt breathing brush against her thighs and down towards her sex. Pook nuzzled her, licking and sucking at her sensitive button. Debbie lost herself.

  It was a long time later that Pook allowed herself to be pushed back onto the bed so Debbie could try with unpractised hands to repay a little of what she had felt. Pook responded immediately. As Debbie took the chocolate points of her breasts between her lips, she started to croon and buried her hands in Debbie's hair. Without planning it, Debbie found herself kissing a wet trail over Pook's stomach and peering between her open thighs at the small mouth hidden there. Its coral pinkness looked sweet and tempting. Tentatively, she lowered her head and reached with the tip of her tongue for the hidden bud. At the instant she touched it, Pook trembled. Pulling herself up on to her elbows, she looked down at Debbie kissing between her thighs.

  “Oh, Debbie,” she crooned. “You do more. I like.” She fell back and waited for more. Debbie felt proud to be wanted like this and bent her head to give again.

  Much later, they lay together, Pook nestling under Debbie's arm, replete and relaxed.

  A thought drifted into Debbie's mind. “Did you do this before, Pook?”

  “Oh, yes. Sometimes the men like me to do this with their wives before we all make love.” She was without shame. “But it not the same as with you. I come here even you give me no money. I like you very much. You very beautiful, and you kind to me.” She nuzzled Debbie's breast and absently pulled at the nipple with her lips. “You take me to England?”

  “What?” said Debbie in alarm.

  “Oh, so sorry. You no like. So sorry, I think you like me.” Her body stiffened.

  “No. I like you. I like you very much.”

  “But just here, yes. Only in bed.”

  “No, no.” Debbie was almost in a panic. “I like you anywhere. It's just that...I have a boyfriend in my house. And the people....”

  “No problem,” said Pook, pushing herself up. “I come to clean your house. No problem. You take care of me with everything, no money, and I clean your house. Then we be friends all the time, OK? Your boyfriend no problem because I no tell him. And the other people think I just clean your house.”

  It was all so simple, and Debbie felt a wild urge to tell her that she could afford it, and why not? But she could not bring herself to think about it seriously. “I'll think about it.” she muttered as a gentle refusal.

  Pook brushed her reticence aside. “Good. And then I come and live with you. You must send ticket for the plane, and I come. Good. Very Good. Now we go to sleep.” With the air of a decision made, she tucked herself into
Debbie's arm again.

  For a moment Debbie wanted to make it clear that she had not made any offer, but then laughed at herself and the whole idea. Why not dream?

  Waking with Pook was fun. When she first stirred, Debbie imagined it was Pat beside her. Then the previous night came flooding back and she sat up with a start. Pook was there, on Pat's side of the bed, wrapped in the sheet and her face half buried in the pillow. Good grief, thought Debbie. Pat's only just left and I've replaced her already. Does this mean I'm a loose woman? She reached out to brush a strand of hair from Pook's cheek and found herself looking into deep black eyes. Pook smiled and stretched.

  “What we do today?” she asked.

  Debbie kissed her and made for the bathroom. She found herself humming and decided that she felt good, really good. Today would be fun.

  While Pook showered, Debbie dug through her case, looking for clothes to lend her. Obviously a bra was out of the question. She would be lost in one of Debbie's. Perhaps her tiniest panties might fit. Black, expensive stretch lace. Never mind. She did not fit out a girlfriend every day. What else? She had nothing that would not swamp the girl. Oh, well. There was always the hotel shop after breakfast.

  Pook hopped into the panties and immediately went to admire the effect in the mirror. She liked what she saw and seemed reluctant to dress further, but the promise of new clothes got her moving. They went downstairs with Pook trotting beside her like a favourite niece. They found a turquoise sleeveless top that Pook loved, but for the rest, they decided to visit Central Plaza and do some serious shopping.

  In the right mood, two girls can transform a visit to the shops into a wild and creative experience. They wandered from boutique to boutique, looking, commenting, trying things on. It was easier to find clothes in Pook's size than Debbie's. Naturally, most shops catered to narrow-hipped, small-breasted Thais. Dressing up Pook was fun. She was childishly trusting and shared her enjoyment of the attention she received with the shop assistants and other shoppers. She invited everyone to stand and enjoy the fun as she tried on first this pretty skirt and then that one. She had a very hard-headed attitude toward money and would not let Debbie buy anything that she deemed too expensive.