Ah, Bangkok!

AH, BANGKOK…

Leaning back in my chair, I held my whiskey bottle up to the light. The yellowed bulb turned caramel to blood. I gave the bottle some urgent mouth-to-mouth, and almost wept when its last drop of life trickled down my throat.

Holding the glass carcass in my hand, I heard footsteps in the hall. Coming closer. I was too tired to fight. Besides, the only weapon I had was my breath, and the sight of her disarmed me completely.

She had more curves than a four-leaf clover, but her smile said I was the lucky one. She looked anomalous as a hard-on in a convent. Usually the only thing ’round here that takes your breath away is a knife in the chest.

“Hi, Philly, long time no see.”

“Uh...do I know you, ma’am?”

“I’ll give you a hint. I was at your wedding.”

“I don’t recall.”

She shrugged with more grace than a Catholic feast. “Been overseas a while.”

“Oh? Where?”

“Bangkok.” It sounded more like a hobby than a city. 

She moved like a bag of cantaloupes, dropping to her knees between my legs. My zip crackled like an arsonist’s mistress.

“I’m sorry, ma’am...I don’t–”

Her fingers danced like an Arabic princess, charming the hell out of my snake.

“Oh, Philly. It’s just how I remember it.”

“Ma’am, maybe I was drunk, but–”

“Think. I was in the wedding party.”

I swam through the years of hooch and tried to find the faces. The dragon. The dragon-in-law. I shook my head.

“No matter, ma’am. The marriage went south last year.”

“Hmm. Speaking of going south...”

Her mouth swept down around my cock like a hot towel. It felt like a sauna, all heat and moisture, and full of wood.

She hummed like an engine that had blown a rod as she pistoned her mouth on me. I hissed like a locomotive as she brought me from a simmer right to the edge of boiling. She uncoupled from me just as I was ready to burst.

“Remember me yet, Philly?”

“I’m sorry...”

She unbuttoned her blouse and revealed breasts so round they made me dizzy. Her eyes fluttered like a hummingbird’s wings, and my head buzzed like a beehive.

“Honey,” I said, “now I’m sure we’ve never met. You’re unforgettable.”

“Remember your buck’s night, Philly? That threesome in Tucson?”

“Oh...”

What a night. My best man had all the connections. The three of us went off like a laptop battery.

She fell back down on me like I was air. Her tongue writhed like a spitting cobra and in seconds I lived up to the simile. She moaned against the tender belly of my beast and I almost wept as its last drop of life trickled down her throat.

“Philly, I’ve been wanting to do that for years.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, I–hey! That girl in Tucson was black!”

“And sweet.”

I looked closer.

“Brian?”

“Hi, Philly.”

I shook my head. “Ah, Bangkok...”