the third sex

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A couple of weeks ago I was driving along the main road in Phuket, the one that runs along the centre of the island, with a ladyboy friend beside me.

It was early afternoon, and we were off to do a photoshoot. I had met the girl on a couple of occasions before, and knew she was a bit of a tease. But even so, I was a bit surprised, as we were driving along, when she hitched up her skirt, wriggled her panties halfway down, and pulled out her cock. She had a good hard-on, and she laughed out loud at my reaction – very properly keeping my eyes on the road, yet desperate to see what she was doing.

She began to jerk off slowly, laughing as she did so. I was just about to tell her to go easy, as I didn’t want her to cum until I was taking the photos, when we ran into a police block.

This was at the junction where you turn to head over the mountains to the coastal resort of Patong. The police often hang around here because you get a lot of farangs riding on motorcycles or motorcycle taxis without wearing crash hats, and you also get some tourists driving hire cars without the proper documentation.

I was sure that my girl was going to be caught with her pants down, because the police had been almost invisible until we got up to where they were. In horror, I glanced sideways towards her as I wound down the window. The policeman’s face peered in. Yet all he saw was a farang with an attractive young girl who was sitting demurely gazing out the window. I handed over my licence and documentation. Everything was in order. The policeman saluted, grinned, and waved us on.

I looked over at my girl. “You managed to put that away fast,” I said, in great relief. She flicked up her skirt, carelessly. Her dick was lying there, flopped over the top of her knickers.

“Lucky didn’t have to get out of car,” she commented.

The funny thing was, the encounter must have shaken her more than she cared to admit, because it took her quite a while when we got to the hotel room to coax her dick back into life again.

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I was walking along Sukhumvit Road during the week, and I noticed that the big hotel that is being built on the site of the Clinton Plaza bar area is almost complete. I hadn’t been along this stretch of the road near Soi 13 for a while, and I racked my brains trying to remember when the plaza had been closed down. Must have been five years ago, at least, probably a bit longer.

Clinton Plaza hadn’t actually been around for long. It took its name from you-know-who, of course. It was a rather neat little cluster of bars, a nice mix of bar-beers and go-go bars, but the big attraction for me was the Crack House, an excellent ladyboy bar.

The frontage of the bar was painted with cracks, but inside the decor was conventional enough. There was a stage, big enough to hold a dozen ladyboys as long as they danced close together, and there was a raised seating area at the back, which was my preferred perch.

The bar had some beautiful girls, amongst them Yo, Tan, A, Anny, May and Janny, all names that will be familiar to the old-timers. The mamasan was a ladyboy in her thirties named Aun, and she had one of the biggest dicks I have ever seen. The first time I went into the Crack House, she came up to me and thrust herself against my thigh. I felt that huge thing stirring in her pants like a large snake. I took Aun out for a photo session, and her dick was even more impressive than I had thought it would be. Boy, could she cum!

There was a short-time hotel off to the side of the bar area, and one of the rooms had a whirlpool tub. I took A in there for a photoshoot, and got her into the tub. I had brought some bubble-bath soap with me, and I tipped it into the water rather too enthusiastically, because when I turned on the whirlpool the bubbles rose up so high that I can remember A’s cute little face being a picture of astonishment and fear, as they threatened to engulf her and overflow onto the floor.

Alas, Clinton Plaza was terminated in the time-honoured Thai way, with locked doors and angry tenants. I can remember going along on the evening the bar operators had arrived to find their businesses had been closed for them, and finding a crowd of bemused ladyboys outside the Crack House, their jobs and salaries gone without warning.

The hotel will be a nice one, but it will be only a hotel. If the guests should see the occasional scantily-clad ghost walking the corridors, I would not be surprised.

Schoolgirl O

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There was a rather pathetic story in the Pattaya Mail recently about a ladyboy arrested for stealing money so that she could pay for a boob job.

Personally, I can take or leave ladyboy boobs. Many is the time I have been photographing and the model has said to me apologetically, as she started to undress: “I no have breasts.” And I have always replied that I didn’t really care, and that a lot of people I know who love ladyboys also don’t care too much either.

Although of course the startling combination of breasts and penis is often what makes a really good ladyboy photograph, I just don’t find implants sexually exciting. To me, they are just….implants.

There are varying degrees of quality when it comes to breast implants. Ladyboys who are able to afford a Rolls-Royce job will end up with soft, rounded breasts that look and feel very much like the real thing. But these aren’t cheap, and I don’t see many of them.

Most will go for the medium-range job, which costs around 40,000 to 45,000 baht. The result here will often be pretty good, but it’s a bit hit and miss. I have known cases in which one of the sacs has leaked, which of course is very dangerous. I once had a ladyboy friend turn up with only one breast, explaining that there had been a leak and the doctor had removed the faulty sac for repair. The effect was so bizarre that I was rendered temporarily impotent.

With many of the medium-price jobs, the surgeon fails to align the nipples, so that they point in different directions. Sometimes you can feel the place where the sac rests against the breastbone, which always makes me feel queasy. And constant massage of the breasts is needed for a few weeks after the operation so that the implants settle in and soften up, friends often being seconded to help out, which is nowhere near as erotic as it sounds.

The cheaper range, costing about 20,000 to 25,000 baht can be distinctly iffy. Sometimes the breasts are as hard and round as watermelons, pointing at the ceiling like missiles when their owner lies down. Heaven knows what is inside the sacs, but industrial silicon cannot be discounted. I feel sorry for girls who have this type of boob job done, as the result is neither convincing nor sexy.

Natural breasts that are the result of taking female hormones over a period of time can be very attractive. Schoolgirl O had the most perfect example I have ever seen: perfectly shaped natural breasts that had not a hint of silicon. I have seen other pretty good examples, and I have even known several ladyboys who could lactate. One girl I remember could squeeze her breast and literally squirt a thin jet of milk.

But of course, the taking of hormones to form breasts has its corollary in the downstairs department. Inwardly I groan when a ladyboy removes her bra to proudly display neat hormonal breasts, because I know that when the panties come down there is not going to be anything correspondingly impressive there.

One thing that all ladyboys have in common is the urge to display their busts in public. Time after time after time, I have seen ladyboys walking down the street in broad daylight with their breasts hanging out of their blouses or T-shirts, and without a hint of embarrassment. That is what marks out a ladyboy who might otherwise pass as a genetic girl. But they never learn.