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My wife and I moved to Thailand after thinking long and deep about the matter. She had bought a house in a relatively new estate on the edge of Korat. About 30 houses in four neat soi comprised the village, a conurbation carved out of what was once farmland. There were still farms aplenty so the village had a very rural feel about it.
I was the only farang in this estate as far as I could tell. I went to work almost immediately fixing up our new house, which had not been well-maintained by the previous owners. The garden was a mess and the house needed a fresh coat of paint. My wife chose the compulsory white colour-scheme and off I went, cleaning and preparing surfaces. I am not a handy man but house painting is really just common-sense and good preparation.
It was while I was up a ladder sanding a downpipe when she called from below.
“Ben, you come down minute please.”
Ten years of marriage had much improved Dao’s English, though she still missed words and confused tenses. I complied and she sat me down on the front porch.
“I talk lady up street. Very friendly,” she said.
“I’m glad you’re making friends honey.”
“Oh not friends yet. She have idiot daughter,” she replied.
“What? Idiot? You can’t say that honey. It’s rude,” I gently admonished.
I realized that she had chosen the wrong word. To cut to the chase, the woman she had been chatting with and who lived four doors up had an adult daughter who had learning difficulties of some kind. I guess she might have been called ‘slow’ once upon a time.
I forgot about the local gossip and went back to painting, quite unaware that I was being watched. The same woman (named Kwang) had apparently been impressed by my workmanship and had made inquiries with my wife about hiring me to paint the interior rooms in her house. Dao had cheerfully agreed, though she hadn’t consulted me, so one day we popped up to Kwang’s house to discuss the matter.
“I am not a professional painter honey,” I protested as we swung open the gate.
“No matter. You good worker and good job.”
My objection was dismissed and soon we found ourselves in the front living room. To my eye it didn’t look like it needed a paint job, but I remained silent. What did catch my attention as the two women talked was Kwang’s daughter, who was sitting silently at a computer in the adjacent open kitchen area.
She did not look our way and her mother did not introduce her. She was probably about 30 years old, plain-looking though pleasant enough, with very long black hair and a slim figure. Her face wore no expression and she did not alter her gaze in the whole time we were there. It seemed like she was looking at a pop music site, though it was hard to tell.
Later I found out her name was Lamai and that she and her mother lived alone. She did not work and had had a very a rudimentary education, perhaps no further than junior high school. Her mother (who worked for local government in Korat) was the provider. It looked like this was the totality of her life.
A few days later I was coming back from an evening stroll when I saw Lamai in the front garden. She was picking some flowers and arranging them in a posy. She looked up as I passed but did not smile nor acknowledge me in any way. Still it was good to see her doing something outside.
She was more attractive than I thought — though her face was plain — she had a cute little figure. I guess it is hard to find a Thai woman who isn’t cute, but there was a mixture of innocence and womanliness in Lamai that made me notice her. I felt a twinge in the usual place and went my way, chastising myself as I did.
Painting Kwang’s house was going to be a balancing act between doing the two houses at the same time, so I set aside a day here and a day there to begin the work. Since I was painting during the day, Lamai would be at home by herself while her mum was at work. My wife had arranged everything and I set to work one day, preparing the same room I had sat in a week earlier. Lamai was sitting at the computer as before.
“Hello Lamai,” I ventured.
There was no response. I walked up to near where she was sitting and repeated what I had said, but this time I added a ‘wai.’ She looked briefly at me then went back to her screen-gazing.
This is how it went for the rest of the time I was there that day. She was preoccupied with Thai pop sites and only bonus veren siteler got up if nature called or she was hungry. I got on with the job, but found myself increasingly drawn to her. I was curious to say the least.
The following day I cut a flower from our front garden bed as an offering for Lamai. She was in the shower when I came in and I left the flower next to her computer. This also gave me a moment to snoop a little. Her browser was open at a page with videos relating to Thai TV singing competitions or reality-style shows. She had a few such tabs open and the thought seized me to try something naughty.
In a completely new tab I quickly navigated to a common or garden porn site. There were dozens of videos displayed on a range of themes. I chose ‘hardcore’ from the menu and loaded a fresh page. Voila! Thirty of forty video choices were displayed. Then I clicked back onto the original tab. I heard the shower water stop so I began setting up the ladder and stirring the paint. When she came in, I said hello and gave her a ‘wai.’ She did not acknowledge me but on seeing the flower, her mood seemed to shift. A smile crept over her face and she gave me a bashful look.
Soon I was painting a wall with broad sweeps of my roller, all the while glancing up to see what Lamai was doing. She appeared to be immersed in her music site and I had to admit that perhaps my plan was too subtle to work. What was I thinking of anyway?
Another two hours passed and I stopped for a break. I surveyed my handiwork with some pleasure — the wall did indeed look lovely now a second coat had been applied. I was sure that Kwang would be happy with the work thus far. I had been so immersed in the job that my attention had wandered from Lamai, so when I turned to look, I saw to my surprise that she was watching the porn site that I had loaded earlier in the day. I didn’t know how long she had been on that site, but it was clear that she was watching a movie. I couldn’t make out the scene, but that didn’t matter.
Now, I did not have any kind of plan. I was flying by the seat of my pants, hoping that whatever I did would turn out to my advantage. But what was it I wanted? Was I trying to get into Lamai’s pants, remote as that chance might be? Or, was I just enjoying being titillated? I couldn’t say. I really didn’t know.
I crept up closer to Lamai, pretending to fold a drop-sheet as I did. Slowly the movie came into focus — a blond with big tits was munching down on a big black cock. Lamai did not notice me behind her so I was able to stand and watch for a few minutes. Before the climax she clicked on another movie, this one featuring an Asian babe riding a nice long dick.
I backed away slowly and began to tidy up. Lamai did not budge an inch so I thought I might try to get her attention to say good bye.
“Lamai. Lamai,” I said.
She looked up and saw I was ready to go. This time however, she stood up and walked me to the front door. This was a triumph of sorts.
“Tomorrow,” I said.
She smiled a little and I left. Things had progressed a smidgeon, perhaps, though there was likely a long way to go.
But it wasn’t until the day after that I made my way back to my neighbour’s house. My wife had intercepted me on her way to Korat.
“When you do more paint here?” she inquired.
“Soon honey. I am busy at Kwang’s house,” I replied.
“Please do here today.”
And that was that. I went to work on the bathroom and my wife headed off to a new job in town. The following day I picked a bunch of flowers to give to Lamai and put them in my work bag. As I entered the house I saw that the computer was turned on but Lamai was elsewhere. Quietly I began to set up the room for the final coat. Then I crept over to the PC. There were half a dozen tabs open, all set to porn sites. I figured that most of them had been referrals but that mattered naught. I popped the flowers gently down by the keyboard.
I heard the toilet flush so I returned to my work.
“I’m here Lamai. It’s Ben,” I called across the open space.
She smiled as she came into the living room. On seeing the flowers she seemed almost happy, her face registering a genuine emotional response. She swept them up and went to find a vase. I began stirring the paint as she returned and sat, as before, at the computer. Then she went back to watching porn, heedless of bahis my presence.
It occurred to me that, since porn had no meaning for her — it was not taboo — then she had no shame in watching it. I did not want to corrupt her. Yet I realized for the first time that I really did want to go to bed with her, not just muck around on the edges. The porn, I hoped, was just a means to an end.
I had almost completed another wall when I felt a presence behind me and turning, saw Lamai with a glass of iced-tea. She held it out to me.
“Thank you. Very kind, “I said.
She stood for a while in front of me. It was odd but then so was she, so I drank down the tea and handed her the empty glass. She walked to the computer and I followed her.
“Delicious. Thank you,” I said, indicating the glass.
Lamai sat down at the computer and clicked on another movie. I was standing right next to her and she did not seem to care. She began watching a video in which a gorgeous Eurobabe is handling three dicks at once. I became very aroused, my cock growing rock-hard in my shorts. Lamai showed no signs of arousal that I could see but was deeply drawn in by the action on the screen.
This was a kind of a turning point though I was not sure how to proceed from here. I felt like whipping out my cock and masturbating to see where that might lead, but I did not want things blowing up in my face. There is a difference between the online world and real life and I was pushing up at the boundaries already. Lamai might have sensed my discomfort, for she turned to look at me. She smiled and then, looking down, she noticed the bulge in my pants. It was pronounced and obvious even to an innocent.
I gave her a ‘wai’ as if to say sorry. She got up and pulled a chair over for me to sit on. I sat down and began to watch the movie with her. The same Eurobabe was getting a very graphic DP and the other fellow was giving her mouth a good workout with his cock. The scene ended predictably with rivers of cum flowing into her mouth.
“You like Lamai?” I asked pointing to the screen.
She looked at me blankly so I pulled out my mobile and opened a translator. Soon a Thai voice was asking her the same question. She pointed to the screen. What did she mean by it?
Another movie began to play automatically, a couple making out next to a pool. So I tried again, but this time asking a slightly different way.
“Do you like this movie?” was what I hoped the Thai voice was asking.
She looked at me. A half-smile crept onto her face.
I pointed to the couple on the screen and then I pointed to her, then to me. She continued to look steadily at me without any discernable expression. This back and forth went on for another ten minutes. It was a little like being on a first date at the cinema at 18 year of age, wondering if it was okay to hold her hand or what she might do if I put my arm around her.
Minutes can seem like an eternity when you have a fire in your loins. I thought of going to the bathroom to pull off to relieve the tension, or just getting up and leaving. But when I stood up, Lamai made a gesture for me to sit. Obviously she enjoyed my company and our mutual move-watching, but for one of us, namely me, it was becoming an agony. So I tried another tack. I began typing into my phone again.
“I think you are very pretty Lamai,” the translator announced.
This time she stopped to pay closer attention to me. I repeated the message. A broad smile crossed her face. A short window had emerged and I took this chance to take her hand, bestowing a small kiss on her smooth brown skin. She did not resist so I leaned gently into her and kissed her lips. She did not move her face away. Snuggling in closer to her, I put my arm around her. She seemed to relax and melt into me a little. The body language was encouraging even if she said very little.
I leaned over and clicked a movie from the selection that was from one of my favourite producers – Tuk Tuk Tarts — a site where middle-aged white dudes put Thai babes to the sword. This offering was typical of the genre. A cute Thai hooker in an impossibly short skirt walks along a hotel corridor. The scene cuts to her slowly undressing, then on her knees giving POV head. The interesting thing about this scene was the farang’s dick, which was bent to the left in a very unusual way. Lamai picked up quickly on this, pointing deneme bonusu at the screen and hitching her index finger crookedly. I laughed and she smiled. We kept this joke running for the whole clip, even as the banana-pecker made its way into mouth, pussy and arse. It was a kind of strange bonding experience and stranger still, it proved to be the way in that I had been hoping for.
For Lamai had been so intrigued by the man’s pole, that she wanted to go through the video again, pausing at close-up shots. She would point at the screen and giggle. Of course I indulged her completely in this, wondering all the while how I could turn this to my advantage. Then an idea came to me.
“Lamai,” I said, holding up my index finger. She turned to look at me.
“This is bent. This is straight,” I said, demonstrating with my finger.
“Bent, Straight. Bent. Straight,” I repeated.
She pointed at the cock on the screen.
“Bent,” I said.
She looked at me quizzically.
“Oh, straight. I see,” I said, holding my breath.
“This is straight,” I ventured, pulling my stiff cock out from my shorts.
“Straight,” I said again, displaying the shaft of my rod.
I was quite prepared to whip the offending log back into my shorts if Lamai displayed any signs of panic or disgust. But she didn’t, not batting an eyelid.
Instead she merely clicked on the next movie, another from the illustrious Tuk Tuk Tarts collection. As it played I began gently to move my hands over her, touching her breasts and feeling down between her legs. I stole little kisses on her cheeks, hair and lips. I started to unbutton her blouse top, which eventually revealed a blue padded bra. I dropped my shorts completely and standing up , began to remove her top and then unclasp her bra. Out popped two lovely tits with elongated nipples. She allowed me to remove her pants and knickers as she continued to watch a particularly graphic sex scene on the screen. A neat patch of cropped black hair sat above a very cute pussy.
But how to move her to the bedroom was the next challenge. Even though I used my translator to suggest that we do so, she seemed to want to remain with the computer and the videos. I tried to gently lead her away but she was adamant about staying put. Feeling between her legs I noticed she was quite wet so I decided hastily on a Plan B.
I sat back down on my chair and motioned that she sit on top on me. She seemed happy to do that but lining up my dick with her twat was both chaotic and hilarious. It was a hit and miss story for a good minute. Lamai knew what was going on but was wrapped up in the video and so not much help at all.
“Honey, just a little higher,” I said, lifting her slightly and adjusting my position.
Finally I felt the head of my cock slide inside her and very gradually, I wriggled my way completely into her cunt. Then it was a matter of getting her to understand how to ride up and down on me. Lamai had seen this many times on the screen already, so she caught on fairly quickly. Being Thai she was easily able to assume the crouch position on the chair, giving my bone a good workout. She was a faster learner than I had anticipated.
I got her to hop off and lean in a kind of doggy position, holding onto the back of the chair. By a happy coincidence the woman in the movie was being screwed in a similar style. Lamai was now very wet and I had no problem entering and getting up a pace, since I was now in control of the action. I slapped her butt a few times and called her some filthy names.
I had been horny all afternoon and longing to cum. Knowing that I couldn’t risk losing it inside her, I blew a load on her shapely backside. It was a relief like no other. Lamai reached behind and spread semen on her fingers. She was fascinated by it.
Later, I cleaned her up and made sure she was properly dressed. She seemed happy enough and when I went to leave, she kissed me. A real, proper kiss on the lips!
Later at home I speculated on the possibilities ahead. I could stretch out the painting a few weeks if I took it slowly. That meant a lot of sex with Lamai if all went well. But it wasn’t all about sex. I had become quite fond of her. I was certain that she was not stupid nor even especially slow. She was just different and had possibly been neglected.
The following morning I was just finishing a first cup of coffee when there was a knock at the door. My wife had left half an hour earlier and it was rare for us to have callers. Could it be Lamai, I wondered?
When I opened the door I found that it wasn’t Lamai at all. It was her mother, Kwang. And she didn’t look particularly happy.
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