the third sex

One of the things I enjoy doing when I have time, especially at the weekends, is to tramp around obscure parts of Bangkok looking at the ancient temples. These tend to be off the tourist map, and consequently I very seldom see any other foreigners.

Last weekend I was exploring part of the Thonburi side of the river, walking along the bank of the Bangkok Yai canal where there is a collection of historic but little-known temples and shrines.

Outside one of them, at an open area of land that appears to double as a carpark and a volleyball court, there was a girl selling lotus flowers to devotees entering the temple. She gave me a smile and tried to sell me some, but as I wasn’t planning on entering the temple I politely declined.

I did however realise that she was a ladyboy. I circled around the temple slowly. I had read up on the history of the place, what little I could find, and was looking in particular at the mix of Chinese and Thai architectural elements. But of course, by now my mind was also on the ladyboy at the front of the temple.

As I came round the corner of the building, she was still there. It was just gone 5pm, the light was beginning to go, and there were few visitors. Seeing me, she flashed another smile. I went up to her.

I said, in Thai, that I knew she was a ladyboy. The polite way to do this is to say that you know she is “sao prapet song”, which means “second type of woman”, the courteous Thai phrase. Then I complimented her on her makeup.

She smiled an even bigger smile and asked me why I spoke Thai, and how many years I had been in the country. So we got talking like this, and I asked her where she lived. Only a few minutes away. She asked if I wanted to come back home with her.

Of course I did. She was not outstandingly beautiful but she had a sexuality about her: small, slightly built, a tom-boyish quality that I liked. My only misgiving was that I knew there would be no privacy in her house. I had earlier walked through the community, and it was a mixture of old timber houses and slightly newer brick-built ones. The kind of place where everyone knows everyone else, and where there are probably three generations of extended family all living in the same house together.

But, what the hell, it was yet another opportunity to see Thailand up close and personal.

We left the flower stall to her auntie, who owned it, and walked across the road and into a smaller road and then into an alley. The house was a brick one, shabby on the outside but clean and tidy inside. There was an elderly woman sitting out back, and a couple of kids buzzing around, but otherwise it was all quiet.

We went into her bedroom, where there was just room enough for the two of us to stand between the dressing table and the bed. She was wearing a denim skirt, and I lifted it and slipped my hand down the front of her pants. She gave a little gasp as I felt her cock, which was hot and hard, and her balls, which were full and warm. I tugged her pants down.

Her dick stood out straight: not a particularly long one, but it was heavy and strong. I began tugging it, very gently, and she put her hands on my shoulders and her face against my chest. Then her body stiffened and she gave a little cry, and spurts of hot cum went over my hand and wrist.

I lifted my wet hand to my face and there was the aroma of fresh coconut juice: the warm scent of a clean-living ladyboy. She was concerned that she hadn’t satisfied me, but although we had locked the door I just wasn’t up for it. I had however certainly enjoyed giving her a hand job. I said I would see her again, and that next time I would take her to my apartment where I could explore that tight little body and find out how that hot and fragrant cum tasted.