Lost Innocence: The Accused. Part One (8 page)

Back
on
the street and feeling the heat, he
escaped into a pink Toyota disguised as a taxi. A young man with an
Afro smiled through the rear-view. “You want see beautiful
lady?”

“
Where? How
much?”

“
Not far. Not
much”

“
Let’s
go.”

After a slow-moving
journey along Sukhumvit Road, they arrived at a street of bars lit
up by bright neon signs. Sexy, young ladies lingered outside in
short skirts, shorter shorts, swim-wear, night dresses, sexy
dresses, lacy lingerie and whatever else would catch the eye. Stan
had never seen so many beautiful girls in one place and smiled at
them all.

He
stopped at a food stall serving fried crickets
and wondered how drunk he’d have to be to try one of
those.
Then
passing a bar with a wooden door, he noticed a
couple of ladies sat at a table in lingerie. The one on the right
was the prettiest, thought Stan but she hadn’t seen him. The one on
the left did. She rose from her stool, glided over, reached for his
hand and led him inside.

Stan stepped into a
small, smoky room with a long bar to the right, leather booths to
the left and a stage area just large enough for a couple of girls
to perform - and they did.

‘
Hotel
California’
,
played loudly around the room, but Stan wasn’t listening. He
was too busy ogling the girls on the stage. Two, probably a little
south of seventeen stood naked, danced erotically and stared at
themselves in mirrors on the walls. They seemed perfectly natural
sporting their stuff for all to see. Stan felt a little sorry for
them, but that thought was soon lost to lust.

He was shown to a
booth and smiled at by a
farang
sitting opposite. He looked around fifty, had
thick, brown hair and wore a pair of cream Chinos under a chequered
shirt.

“
What you drink?” a
pretty waitress asked. She had her hair tied back and her teeth
behind braces.

“
I’ll take a
Heineken.”

‘
Bony Nose’ peered
over. “Ze name is Helmut.”

“
Stan. It’s my first
time here.”

“
You want zome
company?”

“
Sure, it’s always
nice to meet new people.”

“
I was talking about
za girl,” Helmut laughed.

“
Oh. Then why
not.”

As the music changed
to another eighties’ track, Helmut waved over an older lady. She
wasn’t as slim or as sexy as the other girls, had heavy makeup and
bushy hair. She strutted over, blocked Stan’s view of the stage and
spoke Thai with Helmut.

“
Who’s that?” Stan
asked as she walked away.

“
The mamasan. She’s
in charge of the girls.”

A few minutes and a
new track later, two attractive ladies in silk robes appeared and
slid in next to the boys. Helmut opened his girl’s robe to reveal a
lovely little figure wrapped in purple lingerie and half covering a
perky pair of fake breasts.

“
We buy them a drink
then we can play.”

Stan agreed, ordered
two shots of Tequila and turned to his girl. Her smile was
encouraging; she had a pretty face framed with brown hair and busy
eyes that kept flicking between Helmut and Stan.

“
What you name? Where
you from?”

“
I’m Nigel,” Stan
lied.

“
My name
Pancake.”

Two shots of Tequila
soon arrived on a silver tray with a sprinkle of salt and two
wedges of lime. Stan watched the girls as they downed them, licked
the salt and sucked the lime.

Helmut, noticing Stan
was a little shy, leant over, opened Pancake’s robe and copped a
feel of her breasts. “At least get zee money’s worth.”

Stan looked down at
the red lingerie embracing Pancake’s slender body, but didn’t
touch. Helmut fondled his girl’s breasts, right in front of Stan
then reached down to stroke his fingers between her
legs.

“
You can take any of
zese girls upstairs to a private room and have ze wicked
way.”

“
I couldn’t
possibly.”

“
Maybe after a few
more drinks.”

“
I don’t think so. I
feel a little bad for the girls. I couldn’t take advantage of
them.”

Several drinks
later,
Helmut was looking at his watch. He
turned to Stan. “I have work tomorrow.”

“
That’s a shame. What
do you do?”

“
I own ze travel
agency. Perhaps ve can do zis again, anuzzer time?”

Helmut reached for
the bill. Stan pulled it away and paid. Helmut handed Stan his
card.

“
Thank you Stan. It’s
nice to have met you. Call me if you want annuzer night
out.”

“…
.Definitely.” Stan
nodded.

Stan tucked
away Helmut’s card, followed him out of the bar
and said goodbye. He continued his stroll down Cowboy, reached the
end, then turned onto another road. It had several scruffy taxi
drivers standing around, waiting for their prey.

“
Taxi sah?” A cabbie
asked with dry lips.

Stan waved a
dismissive wave - he wasn’t done yet. He continued on and was
walking down a quieter road when he was accosted by three girls
sitting outside the small entrance to a bar.

“
You want drink,
handsome man?” a tall, feminine lady offered. “You look like Tom
Cruise.”

“
I’m heading home,”
Stan replied.

“
I go with you?” She
asked with hopeful eyes.

She was sexy in a
sleazy way with thick black hair and long legs. Her make-up was
heavy and her thick eyelashes fluttered sensually at Stan. His eyes
fixated on her black high-heeled boots that stretched half way up
her legs.

“
One for the road?”
she smiled.

He nodded and
followed her into a small, dimly-lit room where several
black-leather barstools were lined up against the bar. It smelt of
stale spunk. He ordered a whisky soda as she slid in next to him
and started rubbing his leg.

“
You buy drink for
me?” she asked.

Stan nodded to the
bar-maid. A whisky Cola arrived and Stan and ‘Black Boots’ clinked
glasses.

“
What your
name?”

“
Nigel,” Stan lied
again.

She
pressed her hand firmly against his crotch and began to caress him.
He opened his legs a little and
glanced
down to see she now had a firm grip on his member, through his
shorts. He contentedly sipped his whisky while she slowly opened
the buttons to his shorts, snaked
her hand
in and found her way to the fly in his boxers. Stan sat back,
allowing her to search; he wasn’t shy, he was too excited and too
drunk to care.

She was
quick to find his member and it was already giving her a standing
ovation. She pulled it out right there in the bar and patted it
like a pet.
Stan blushed, but didn’t stop
her and watched as she took his balls in her hands and squeezed
them.

There
was nobody else, save a chubby, bar-maid wearing a denim skirt over
a pair of pink stockings. She had placed some tissues and a small
bottle of Johnson’s baby oil on the bar counter.
As Stan enjoyed another first-time
experience in the ‘Land of Smiles,’ ‘Black Boots’
took a little oil on her hand, applied it to Stan’s manhood and
started to stroke him. He was shocked. The barmaid didn’t look,
didn’t care and continued drying glasses. Stan sat back with one
eye on ‘Black Boots’ hand and the other on the
door.

He was
reaching the point of no-return, when she slowed down then
stopped.
“You want
more?”

“
Okay.”

“
Let’s go
upstairs.”

“
What’s
upstairs?”

“
Have private
room.”

Guilt had lost out to
lust, again. Stan finished his drink, pulled up his shorts and
followed her up a flight of broken stairs. They arrived at a room
that smelt of smoke and sex. It had an old pool table with a torn
cloth and a small, empty bar.

She locked the door
behind them, leaned him up against the pool table and rammed her
tongue down his throat. After several seconds of a sloppy snog, she
broke away. “You want fuck me?”

Stan
nodded.

She unbuttoned Stan’s
shorts and slipped them down to his ankles. She
stepped over to the bar, rummaged around and found a dusty
bottle of Thai whisky and some mixers, hidden in a cupboard
underneath. “What you drink?”

“
Whisky soda.” Stan
replied.

He started to shuffle
over like a penguin to take his drink, his shorts still around his
ankles.

“
Stay there,” she
laughed. “I bring to you.”

He shuffled back
feeling foolish and waited. His heart thumped as she glided over,
placed the drinks on the side then fell to her knees. She pulled
down his boxers, took his manhood in her hands and tickled the tip
with her nails. She took him deeply in her mouth and caressed him
with her long, strong tongue. He glanced down; her eyes met his as
she started to suck him fast and furiously. He could feel
himself
coming,
again, and reached down to take her firm, left breast in his
hand.

She continued,
careful not to finish him, her musky perfume tickling his nostrils.
He reached down, slipped his hand through her dress and ventured
down her legs. He was about to reach her opening, when she stopped
him. He paused for a Mississippi count of three, then tried again –
this time she allowed him safe passage.

He reached down,
grazed her thigh and then continued further on his voyage
until finally arriving between her legs.
Expecting a shaved, smooth moist opening, he was more than
gob-smacked when he felt a long, hard bulge, taped up and strapped
firmly to her inside leg. He felt it again - to be sure – it was
still there - fuck!

A tsunami of
aversion, revulsion, repulsion horror, disgust and despair swept
over him, amongst other emotions that had all arrived
simultaneously. He almost threw up. He lifted her(?) him(?) it from
him and pushed her(?) him(?) it away. He stumbled into his clothes
and dashed for the door.

“
I thought you knew,”
the lady-boy cried out as she stood back scratching her
head.

He struggled with the
lock, opened the door, legged it down the stairs and rushed out of
the bar. Then bolting blindly across the road, he side-stepped a
taxi-tout to be hit head-on by a Tuk Tuk.

ELEVEN

RAIN
WAS
splashing off the window panes and the
wind howled like an angry child: it was a cold, wet morning in
England. Doris was in the bedroom and had just finished on the
phone, when Nigel drifted in from the bathroom.

“
Who was that?” he
asked, drying his hair.

“
Lou. Stan was hit by
a Tic Tac.”

“
A what?”

“
I’m sure she said
Tic Tac.”

“
The
mint?”

“
She said it’s some
sort of a motorbike with a carriage attached. Stan was hit by one
of them while crossing the street. He’ll be in hospital for a
while.”

Nigel stood shaking
his head. “Idiot.”

“
So what now?” Doris
asked.

“
What do you mean? I
have to go.”

“
You can’t go. You’re
not well enough. You will have to send another partner!”

“
I should have gone
in the first place.”

“
But it’s so hot and
humid over there.”

“
Then I’ll walk
slowly, drink lots of water and avoid bloody Tic Tacs.”

She stormed off down
to the kitchen while he followed, strolled into the living room,
picked up the Thai phrase book, then entered the study.

The aroma of fine
Italian leather lingered in the air and every photo frame,
organizer and business necessity lay neatly in its place. A
luxurious black leather chair stood behind a grand desk and shelves
were loaded with legal books. A Picasso graced the main wall and a
framed Michael Walker hung proudly alongside.

Using his thumb print
and a six digit PIN, he opened his safe, withdrew his passport,
credit cards and a jiffy bag stuffed with fifties.

Doris followed him
back up the stairs.

“
What do you know
about Thai law?”

“
I’ll find a guy out
there.”

“
This is insane.
You’re not strong enough.”

“
I’ve never been in
better shape.”

This was a blatant
lie. He used to play squash every Tuesday, go fencing on Fridays
and spend Sundays at the golf club. Nowadays, he would take it easy
with a little gardening on a
fine
day.