Preachers Daughter Ch 8 and Preachers Wife 1
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The Preacher's WifeChapter 7 free porn video
Bangkok is the sex capital of the world – but it's not the greatest place to be a "round eye" – a Western woman. Smiling, available, and cheap Thai women, all of who look to be 18 years old and have tight little bodies, divert the attention of males. Bangkok has thousands of bars, massage parlors, night clubs, strip joints, no-hands restaurants, and other establishments where sex can be purchased at a moderate price. An impact Thailand has on us round-eye women is that we abandon all coyness. Men get accustomed to sex on demand.
I had been working for two months in Thailand when two new women friends invited me to spend a weekend in Pattaya with them. I was enthusiastic. I had been working hard. I needed a break.
Pattaya is a beach resort one hour by automobile from Bangkok. It has more bar girls – which is a euphemism for females who service males – than any place in the world. There are plenty of customers. Pattaya is a farang (foreigner) hangout. Given Pattaya's reputation for over-abundant Thai women, the possibility of sex wasn't in my frontal lobes. I looked forward to a weekend of lying on the beach, getting pleasantly drunk, and enjoying the scene.
My two friends were both a few years younger than me. I was almost 43, although I flattered myself that I looked younger due to my slender build. We all dressed sexy for our night out in Pattaya. I wore a short loose dress with a scoop neck and spaghetti straps and I left my bra at home, thus displaying cleavage – and large, prominent nipples for those who cared to look down my dress. My two girl friends, both more endowed than me, wore shorts and tank tops, the outline of their breasts showing through the fabric.
We danced and drank until after midnight in an open-air bar full of Thai tarts and Western men. Most of the men were tourists and interested in the exotic Thai girls, but several paid attention to us and I danced in the hot tropical night until I was dripping wet with sweat. A pair of presentable men named Steve and Jay invited us to a stroll on the beach to cool off. Sex was in the offing, but I was thinking that the other two women were younger and had bigger tits. I would probably get left out.
The beach was quiet and empty and dark. We strolled along, arm in arm. Suddenly, one of my girl friends said, "I want to go swimming." She pulled off her tank top, shorts, and panties threw them down on the sand, and ran naked into the gentle surf. She turned around and laughed, "Come on in, you chickens."
The rest of us followed her lead. It was a dark night, but I saw flopping penises and bouncing boobs as we ran into the ocean. We laughed and splashed together in the water. I don't know who initiated contact but Steve and I flowed into each other's arms and he kissed me long and hard, the contours of our bodies fitting together as we stood neck-deep in the warm tropical sea. I was immediately willing to go beyond an embrace. I put my arms around his neck and locked my legs around his waist, pressing hard against his groin. He held me with his hands under my butt and sought out my vagina with his penis. He was successful.
I love the feel of a standing-up climax, a shake-all over, breathless thrill of emotion that buckles your knees and makes you feel faint. Many sexy movie scenes to the contrary, however, the insertion of a penis into a vagina while both persons are standing is difficult and often painful. Steve and I enjoyed an unusually good fit. He pulled me back and forth slowly and gently and I arched my back to facilitate deeper strokes, leaning back as far as I could without drowning. He climaxed first with a shudder, but he was a well-mannered man, not one to come and go. After a moment's rest he pumped away at me until he went soft. Then, I climbed down and he cradled me in one arm while he inserted two fingers into my vagina. I climaxed with a cry in the night.
We relaxed and shivered together in what now seemed like frigid water. Looking around, I saw one of my girl friends on the beach. Jay was on top of her, her legs twirled around his waist, his hands under her buttocks, the two of them rocking back and forth on the sand while little wavelets of water broke around them.
My other girl friend was standing in the water about twenty feet away, discreetly staring into the distance. She was naked, alone and unattended. Steve was looking at her too and I could feel his penis getting hard while pressing against my thigh. I felt generous. It's always been a fault of mine.
"Look," I said to Steve. "You should pay some attention to her." He nodded, kissed me goodbye, and left me behind, going over to the other woman. They stood facing each other for a moment, kissed, and within a minute the two of them headed for the beach and lay down together on the sand.
I walked out of the water and sat on the sand. Down the beach to my left, Jay was fucking one girl friend and, to the right, Steve was fucking the other. Jay and his girl finished first in a noisy climax. They rested together a moment, lying side by side, her hand on his limp penis. Steve took longer, but when he had finished both couples got up from the sand and sat down beside me. We talked for a couple of minutes, and then Jay extended his hand to me.
"I need to wash the sand off," he said. "Come with me?"
I did. We walked knee-deep into the water and away from the other three still sitting on the beach. Jay sat down in the gentle surf and beckoned me to join him. I sat down beside him. We kissed and he pulled me over to sit on his lap. I took his cock in my hand to assist it inside me, but he pulled it away from my vagina and directed it at my ass.
"Okay?" he asked.
I have only been ass-fucked a few times, and I'm a little repelled by it, but in the water, the beautiful, clean, warm water, it seemed appropriate to try. "Do it," I answered and I leaned forward to facilitate his passage. A thought crossed my mind. I was not following my usual rule of requiring men to wear condoms. Could I get disease from a dick in my ass?
The ass-fucking didn't work. It hurt and I cried out as he penetrated deep within me. He pulled out.
"Sorry," I said. "Just fuck me as a consolation prize." I straddled him, sitting with my legs apart and manipulating his penis to enter me. The waves lapped over us and he played in my vagina with his hand and penis, not really able to penetrate me deeply. It didn't matter. I went off like a roman candle. After a moment of rest, I began to massage his penis to bring him to climax. He said, "I can't do this again so quickly."
"Let's go back to shore until you're ready,"
The other two girls and Steve were still sitting on the beach side by side recovering from their trysts. Both girls sat with their legs open and receptive. Jay and I joined them and we talked and rested for a few minutes. I sat in the middle. I was the queen bee -- brought to climax by both men while my girl friends had each only had one. The men soon remedied that inequity.
They took my girl friends down on the sand. Both men climbed on, so close to me that they nearly touched me on either side. It took both a few minutes to get erections, which caused merriment, ribald comment, and mouth-to-penis resuscitation but soon both couples were humping together. One girl sought the deepest penetration by putting her legs over Steve's shoulders. The other sat on Jay, bouncing up on down on top of him, tits and hair flying in the dark. Both had lost all inhibition, screaming in joy as cocks pounded their pussies.
I was a fly on the wall watching both and I couldn't keep from getting hot all over again. They climaxed at almost the same time. Afterward, we all lay side by side on the sand, resting after the pleasure of good sex. Steve suggested, "Time for bed. We have a bungalow nearby. Do you girls want to sleep there?"
We looked at each other. "Sure. Why not?"
"Good," Jay said. "Come on Rebecca. I didn't finish with you. I'll see if I can remedy that."
"You're going to leave me alone with these two ravishing women?" Steve said in mock horror. We got up, found our clothes, and walked together down the beach to the bungalow. Jay and I shared one bedroom and I didn't let him renege on his promise to fuck me again, albeit he could only get about half-hard and I had to ride him and hold his penis inside me with my hand. Steve shared a bed with the other two women.
Thailand was the last step in my liberation – if that is the proper word – from the life of a preacher's wife in a small Kansas town. After my year in Sudan I had returned home, half-hoping that I could settle down to family and church and half-hoping that I couldn't. Six months at home persuaded me that I couldn't. I accepted a contract to work in Thailand. The money was good, and my husband didn't complain much. He had grown accustomed to my absences – and the money I made. My daughter was now out of college and my son was a sophomore. Neither seemed to need me.
My job was to manage a program to help Burmese refugees living in camps in upcountry Thailand. I rode a minibus up to the camps on Sunday afternoon and stayed and worked there from Monday until Friday afternoon, when I came back to Bangkok. I spent Friday and Saturday nights in one of the pleasant, cheap hotels that abound on the tiny side-streets – sois – in Bangkok.
Somewhat to my surprise, after my Pattaya beach adventure, Steve telephoned me the following week and invited me out to go out with him on Friday night to sample the night life of Bangkok. We bar-hopped and I got grand and gloriously drunk and he took me to his house, which was like the palace of an Oriental potentate. He fucked me while I lay limp but happy in his king-sized bed.
The next morning, Steve pulled me out of bed about ten o'clock. "Come on," he said. "There's a festival at a little Buddhist temple out in country that I don't want to miss."
"Buddhism?" I asked sleepily.
"It's really special." We rented a boat with an outboard motor and the driver piloted us through miles of canals and rice paddies to a tropical paradise. A small gilded, high-roofed temple rose over the statue of a reclining Buddha wreathed in clouds of sweet-smelling incense. The Buddha smiled benignly upon a gathering of perhaps two hundred people dressed in brightly-colored sarongs. Monks wearing saffron robes chanted sutras and in the shade of graceful coconut palms and puffy mango trees, women toiled over charcoal braziers offering noodles fried in peanut oil and seasoned with smelly, salty fish sauce and tiny hot chiles.
"This festival is all about mango season," Steve said. "The mangos are green. They slice them and serve them with sticky rice and sweetened coconut milk. Let's try them." Steve bargained and bantered with one of the women. He spoke Thai and was comfortable in a crowd in which we were the only farangs. He bought two plates of mango and sticky rice and we sat on rickety chairs in the shade and ate the mangos and drank orange crush soda.
"This has been a perfect day," I exulted on our way home.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it. Unfortunately, I can't take you out tonight. I have a business dinner."
That put a damper on my day. I stayed in my hotel room that night and drank most of a bottle of gin.
Steve was thirty-five and a successful business executive. His wife had left him for another man two years ago and he had come to Bangkok to work and recover from the divorce. He confessed to me that I was the first round-eye he had fucked during the two years he had lived in Thailand. He also confessed that he had had sex with 200 Thai women. In Bangkok, the round-eye woman can assume that she is sharing her husband or boyfriend with Thai women. The temptations are great. A one-hour massage with a happy ending – masturbation -- cost ten dollars. Extras were negotiable.
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