Sunday, August 15, 2010

THE PRICE OF PURITY by Peter Nolan Smith


Natalie is sexy.

She doesn’t need the piercings or the tattoos.

Her libido sends the message to her customers she’s on the game and if they want to play them they have to pay. Riding her is like driving a Ferrari on ice. Your skill levels have to be honed to a professional level.

And if they aren’t, Natalie doesn’t mind. You paid your way.

“I was not always like this,” she told me on a rainy night.

“I know. Everyone was a young once.” I ordered a tequila.

Her favorite first drink.

“I came here when I was 15. My mother was working a bar.” She downed the shot and signaled for a beer chaser. Her belly is showing the early signs of this repeated investment in beer.

“You don’t need to tell me this.” My belly was a fat portfolio.

“Tell you. Not tell you. Same.” Her hand caressed my thigh.

“I’ve heard the story before. Girl comes to Pattaya. Has boyfriend. Boyfriend leaves her. She works bar. Can’t love anyone but me.”

“Not same story me. 15 not have boyfriend. Boyfriend can’t leave me. My mother work bar. Not me. I can love anyone. But only 4 men. Have maybe 3000 geeks. Love only 4. Maybe can love two more times.”

Natalie is 25. 3000 in 10 years works out to 300 a year at 1000-1500 baht each. 400-500k puts her in the top salary bracket in Thailand.

She has nothing to show for it.

Me neither for 55 years.

“Now I go with man old. Easy money. Only worry that they die on me.”

“Anyone come close?” Viagra, 60 year-old, and a young girl is a fatal combination in Pattaya.

“No, but sometimes think man will die.” She puffed out her cheeks. “Luat-keung-nah.”

“Blood makes their face go red.” I waved for my check-bin.

“Like red light.” Natalie doesn’t want me to leave. Not without her. Rain is starting to fall. It’ll get heavier in minutes. There are no men in sight. only me. ”Before i say I young once. 15. My mother works bar. She have friend want virgin.”

“And you were a virgin?” Ten years ago I was living with Vee. My one-eyed mistress. She was no virgin.

“Never kiss a boy.” Her hand moved higher on my thigh. “Borisut.”

“So why you want to have sex?”

“Not me. Mah.” Natalie swung between pidgin and perfect English. She had lived in the UK twice. Sweden once. “Mah needed money.”

“For what?” I wondered how many times she had told this story to kak or customers.

50, 100, every night.

“Krai lu?” she answered with resignation.

A Thai daughter has to obey her mother. No matter what. No explanation necessary.

“Man gives me 4000 baht. Not hurt because he know how to make love to virgin. I didn’t like it the first time. Second time too. After that. Love it all the time. You want me show you?” Her hand rested on my crotch.

“Wish i could.” I was faithful to Mam in deeds.

Thought was impossible.

I gave Natalie 200 baht. “For kin khao.”

She wai-ed gracefully as a 12 year-old and said, “You can run, but you can’t hide. One day i show you my pierced clit.”

“I’m sure you will.” I escaped before the downpour drenched the streets and came home to Mam and Fenway. They were both asleep. Mam will never know how hard I try to be good.

Or how hard I can be.

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