I had met my wife in a manner that was, by the admission of most people, a little foolish. About a year after the demise of my first marriage, I had headed with a few mates on a trek in Vietnam. They were war buffs and wanted to see the battle sites from the Vietnam conflict. I was not a war buff but needed to get away and forget. I also needed the company.

Trudging through hot jungle with a guide was just the tonic, taking my mind off myself and placing me in a more challenging environment. I appreciated the mate ship and the experience, though soon enough it was over. Three weeks, however, was not a long enough time for me, so I parted ways and took a flight to Thailand.

You might be able to see where this is headed, for, after a week or so touring Bangkok and surrounds, I found myself on a flight to Phuket with one intention. The heat and the gorgeous women I had seen daily since arriving had created a powerful desire within me and an expat at my hotel had given me some advice.

“Now, remember, you want to get away from the main drag and into the soi, “he said, a map of Phuket sprawled in front of us.

“This one here has a string of places that are more subtle, shall we say,” he continued, circling a spot of the map. “You don’t want to get mixed up with girls who have the clap.”

“Well, no,” I replied.

“I’d personally recommend The Bliss Bar, which is just about, here,” he said, digging a finger into the map.

“I had some good experiences there. It’s classier. They are not so young. Friendlier too, to my way of thinking.”

A couple of days later I had checked into my hotel and was casually walking the streets of Patong Beach. It was early evening and the place was crammed with foreigners and the bars overflowing with scantily clad young women, all smiling ‘welcome.’

I headed away from the shoreline into the soi precinct that my expat friend had suggested, getting lost now and then. Almost by accident I found myself outside of The Bliss Bar, a modern brasserie style establishment. There were fewer leering Westerners here and the women were dressier and yes, somewhat older. It’s always hard to judge the age of a girl when she is wearing a lot of makeup, but it seemed they might be thirty-somethings.

I took a seat at the long bar and began checking out the scenery. There were men sitting at the bar like me and others already sitting with their girls. The mood was low-key, no loud music, no dance shows nor pole-dancing. I liked it and it put my nerves at ease.

A short time later, two women took the bar stools on either side of me. Evidently I was going to have to make a choice. The one on my left was a Thai beauty, with long dark hair and brown skin. On the other side was a quieter girl, not as beautiful but with a larger set of breasts. She had a slightly melancholic manner, and was even browner than the other. I decided on her.

We sat at some lounge chairs, her manner still a little distant.

“My name is Steve,” I said slowly.

“My name Rose,” she replied, somewhat shyly.

“I’m from Australia,” I added, struggling for subject matter.

“I from Burma, Myanmar,” she replied.

That came as a surprise. I knew that there were many Burmese workers living and working in Thailand (quite a few illegally) but I hadn’t guessed that the sex trade was at all popular with them. A few rather awkward minutes passed and I began wondering if I should make an exit, when she said.

“You come to room with me now?”

Before I knew it I was upstairs in a small but pleasant room with a simple bed, lamp and colourful posters of Thai beauty spots. There was an ensuite with shower and şişli esc toilet. The walls seemed solid enough to provide reasonable privacy. Rose switched on the air-con.

I had negotiated an hour with Rose, who continued to be curiously quiet. I guessed that maybe she had had a bad day, but that was beside the point. I was paying 500 baht and hadn’t been laid in 12 months. Today was the day as far as I was concerned.

“We take shower,” she said, grabbing some fresh towels from a sideboard.

I watched her as she removed her skirt and top, then a bra. A larger than Asian-average set of tits appeared, followed shortly after by a well-cropped pussy. The darkness of her skin was exciting.

She ran the water and we both squeezed in. She looked at me with mournful eyes.

“You marry Steve?” she said, warm water cascading over her jugs.

“No. I’m not. I am divorced,” I replied, thinking what an odd question it was. Technically I wasn’t divorced but that was only a matter of few months away.

“You girlfriend?” she continued, now massaging my torso with liquid soap.

“No girlfriend. Single man.”

She smiled for the first time and I began gently to work my hands over her body, feeling the peak of her tits as I manoeuvred a finger near her cunt. My cock rapidly grew hard.

“Nice size for me,” she said as she massaged my rod.

We stood in this manner for another minute or two, then Rose dried me off. I anticipated with longing the time when Rose’s lips would be plying my dick, but to my surprise, she got down onto the floor on all fours.

“We start here,” she said.

Odd as it seemed timing wise, I obeyed her. Now down on my knees and stiff as a board, I felt Rose reach back for my cock. Wiggling her ass to get a good angle, my dick slid easily into her pre-lubed hole.

“Ooo Steve, this nice for me. Your cock good size,” she said, looking back with a smile.

“Good for me too baby. You have a great ass,” I panted, feeling extraordinarily aroused.

A minute or two later and I realised I was just too excited and that a load was building. Looking down at Rose’s butt while my dick shot in and out her gash was mind-blowing. Fortunately Rose decided it was time for the comfort of the bed. She helped me up and then dragged me by the penis in a cute fashion to the bed.

“You rest now, I suck you,” she said, planting a kiss on my cheek.

I have to say that after such a slow and strange start, Rose was really beginning to grow on me. She was playful and unhurried, taking the lead but letting me feel like I was in charge. Her blow job was excellent, her head bobbing pneumatically up and down my shaft, only pausing to lick and kiss my balls.

“That feel so good baby. I want to cum,” I said, feeling a little desperate now.

“No cum yet Steve. My pussy want more,” she replied, hopping up and planting her cunt on my dick.

This was the crouching position I had heard of, a stance that allowed her to move rapidly up and down. The visuals, not to mention the sensation, were magnificent and soon enough I was releasing a load from my balls.

“Oooo yes, Oooo yes,” she cried as I came.

She climbed down and put little kisses on my cock, then parted her legs to offer praise.

“Big cum from you Steve. Strong man fill me up,” she crowed, the first drips of semen appearing.

I was both elated and relieved that things had gone so well and contemplated whether I could have Rose as a personal fuck every time I came to The Bliss Bar. Perhaps she was reading my thoughts when she said.

“You want Steve, next time I come your hotel.”

“Can you şişli escortu do that?” I asked. I had heard that hotels discouraged women coming back to men’s rooms, so to speak.

“It okay if I dress like lady. I come your girlfriend. No trouble for us,” she replied, playing with my half erect member.

“I understand. You come as my girlfriend. Great!” and truly I thought it was great. If Rose could be a kind of girlfriend to me during my stay, then I would be more than happy to look after her.

Later on I went to the desk of my hotel. A new clerk was on duty.

“Hello. I checked in last night. I want to add my girlfriend’s name to the guest list,” I said.

The clerk brought out my check-in card and pencilled in Rose’s name. Rose had given me her surname, Aromdee.

“She’s arriving from Bangkok later on,” I said, trying to sound as plausible as possible.

Rose had also given me her mobile phone number and shortly after returning to my room, I received a text from her.

“Steve, I come your hotel later tonight?” it read.

I was not expecting her to turn up so soon. After all, she had the bulk of the evening and the early morning to earn money from customers at The Bliss Bar.

“What about work?” I returned.

“I have rest of night holiday,” was her reply.

So, she was taking the rest of the night off. I couldn’t work out whether this was a good thing or a bad thing. Frankly there were lots of strange signals come out of her. Firstly, the downcast expression when we first met at the bar. Then the sudden happiness in the shower. I couldn’t account for this change of mood. Now, it seemed, she was acting a little like a girlfriend. I was certainly attracted to her, but what was going on? Was it something cultural I was missing?

About 30 minutes later, as I was enjoying a beer and trying to get my head around a Thai game show on TV, Rose sent a text to say that she was down in the reception. I bolted down and found her standing by the desk, chatting amiably with the desk clerk. She looked lovely and had dressed up for the occasion, looking very respectable, not forgetting a night bag either.

“Miss Aromdee is here sir,” the clerk said.

“Hello darling,” I said, smiling.

We headed back to the room and Rose made herself at home. Her night bag was crammed with clothes and makeup and she laid these out carefully.

“Your shop is not busy tonight Rose?” I ventured.

“Busy always,” she said. “Tonight I with you.”

She came over to me and wrapped her arms around me. Then, to my surprise, she kissed me fully on the mouth.

“Wow,” was all I could say.

That night we fucked repeatedly. No sooner had I shot a load in her pussy, or her mouth or over her tits, and then fallen into a satisfied sleep, she would be waking me, urging me to get hard. It was one of those nights when everything is spent and sleep is fitful and sparse. At 8am she was shaking me gently again.

“Steve, wake up now. I horny.”

I rolled her way and gave her the sleepiest of glances.

“Rose, I think I am too tired.”

Apparently reluctant to take no for an answer, Rose slid down under the sheet and began to play with my cock. She had a way, no doubt borne out through experience, of teasing it in such a manner that soon, it began to stiffen. This was mightily helped by my birds-eye view of her ass and pussy, both gorgeous in the morning light. As she took the length of my rod in her mouth, she presented her cunt to my mouth for closer inspection. I could still see the residue of the last night’s lovemaking on her glorious lips, her movement on top of me sluicing şişli escortları still-liquid globules from her tight hole. I had just started to move my tongue inside her when there was a rap on the door and a muffled “room service” from beyond.

Apparently I had ordered and paid for breakfast though I could not remember when, such had been the events of the past 24 hours. Soon Rose and I were sitting at a small table with a mixed repast of fruit, sticky rice, juice and mini-croissants. I was wondering what my bill for Rose’s services was going to be when she said,

“Steve. You like me?”

The question did not seem odd at all. We almost seemed like a couple.

“Of course. Yes, I do,” I replied, forking some mango into my mouth.

“You good man, I think. You kind man to me,” she continued.

“Thank you,” I replied, wondering where this was going.

“I want to stop job at bar.”

“Do you? Don’t you like your job?”

“No, I very hate,” she said, a tear rolling down her cheek.

In broken English and over the next two hours, Rose told me her story. She had come from Myanmar as a teenager and worked with her mother in the markets in Bangkok. Being illegal immigrants, Rose’s mum was eventually caught and sent back across the border, Rose eluded capture and worked in many low-end jobs before eventually drifting into prostitution.

“I must send money to my family. Only this job, good money,” she gurgled, through a sea of tears.

“I am so sorry honey,” I said softly, my arms around her.

Truly, I was feeling sorry for her and I knew from my own limited reading on the Thai sex trade that there were many such examples as this.

Finally she seemed to summon the courage to get to the point.

“You be my boyfriend Steve?” she asked gently.

I had been wondering where the conversation might lead and had expected Rose to ask for money to help her out of her predicament. I had not expected this.

“Um, er,” I stuttered, “Well okay, why not!”

The words were no sooner out of my mouth when Rose jumped into my arms, knocking the remaining croissants to the floor. She smothered me in kisses and even though I felt bewildered by the turn of events, and even though a little warning light was flashing in the back of my head, I just let it go. The lure of sex was just too strong.

“I so happy,” Rose said, over and over.

After we had showered, I took Rose to lunch at a noodle café down near the beach. We sat eating steaming bowls of spicy Tom Yum Moo and immersed in a kind of glow.

“When you quit your job?” I asked her.

“Soon,” she said, “Must give owner seven day. Or big trouble. My visa.”

So Rose had another week to ply her ancient trade. I wasn’t bothered because I wasn’t in love yet. And to tell the absolute truth, there was something a little exciting in the thought of having a girlfriend who fucks for a living.

I stayed another three weeks in Phuket, organising a little studio apartment for Rose to live in and setting up a bank account for transfers to keep her afloat. She was very loving to me and especially attentive sexually. The situation began to normalise and its weirdness began to wear off.

The only hitch was at The Bliss Bar. Rose’s boss, who was also her visa sponsor, did not want her to leave until he had a good replacement. He didn’t seem to be in a rush to do so and in truth, he held all the cards. Rose would have to play ball if she wanted to stay in Thailand.

She saw me off at the airport. I promised to return in a few months, divorced and ready to marry, if she wanted.

“Please come back me,” she said, a little tearful. “I stop work at bar soon I hope.”

“It’s okay Rose. A job is a job. Please don’t upset your boss.”

As I walked towards immigration clearance, I saw a bright future with this lovely lady and already was naively making plans for our time together.

More fool me.