I’m back in Vancouver.
The joy of Asia was that every day I could step outside my door and be on a beach, or an interesting city like Chiang Mai, or Bangkok, and there were just beautiful women everywhere. Every day I would meet one, or three.
For men, being around beautiful women is like being in nature. Good for the soul. They lift the spirits; inspire us to work, create, improve.
The downside of travel is that everyone I met had to leave the next day for some elephant trek, or flight to another country. So you don’t really get many lasting connections unless you hang out with locals.
Now I’m back in Vancouver, in my hipster neighbourhood, where women dress like they’re homeless men. Oh well, I’ll adapt. But my eyes are on South America and Eastern Europe.
I slept with two women in my seven weeks in Thailand and Malaysia. My student slept with four. Outshine the master he did. “Only two women!” you say? Well, I’m kinda old. Having a new 20 something a month is fine for me. And he was basically a virgin, so congrats to him. The girls I loved over there were worth the wait. I also have three dozen girls on Instagram that would let me crash at their place if I travelled to their country.
It was a good trip, and other than the romance, I made some great friends, with both Thai people and tourists.
One girl I met in a pickup wonderland called Pai. It’s a small backpacker town three hours drive from Chiang Mai, Thailand. I’m not sure what it is about Pai, but it attracts hordes of beautiful young women (mostly of the yoga and vegan variety,) but is not without its share of party girls too.
I was on a street they call “walking street,” where locals set up shops to sell everything from fruit shakes to T-shirts, and tourists amble slowly up and down, munching on Nutella pancakes, browsing the trinkets and foodstuffs while the Thai smile and say “Helloooo! You buy something?”
I saw the girl: a long legged beauty. She was alone, happy. She kept walking up to men and hovering in their vicinity, making eye contact, waiting for someone, anyone, to talk to her. A few guys gawked, trying to get her eye contact. None of them approached her. I did.
“You look like you’re wasting time too,” I said.
She smiled. “I am.”
Like 95% of the beautiful tourist women in Thailand, she was friendly and open to meeting strangers.
That’s called “Travellers mind.” She was also travelling alone. Even better. It was her last nights in Thailand before heading back to Britain.
What do I remember about her personality? She was pleasant, agreeable, and intelligent. I liked her. She was into horses, and yoga, and veganism. She could be from the more affluent parts of Vancouver.
After walking a block I offered to buy her a drink ($3 for a cocktail) and over that she told me it was also her birthday. And where was she staying? A hostel dorm? No. She had her own bungalow, not far away. She sold me on how cool it was, which I took as an invitation.
“I’d like to see you place. Is it far?” I asked.
“No, not far at all.”
And we walked to her bungalow. We sat on her porch. I said, “I’m trying so hard not to kiss you.”
“Why?” she asked.
I leaned in and kissed her. I played with her breasts. She moaned. I reached down slowly, probing, until she spread her thighs. In the background the cicadas, frogs and geckos did the sang their songs.
We had a shower, where I admired her tight, twenty-three year old body. Then I took her to her bed, crawled under the mosquito net and banged her silly.
It was a great night for both of us. And with that, she was off to Jolly old England. God save the Queen. Her adventure over.
The other girl I met on my last night in Bangkok. She came into the hostel dragging her backpack. First I noticed her lips. Was she Mexican? Brazilian? No…Asian? It didn’t matter. She was gorgeous. I waited in the lobby for her to return. She never did, so I took a nap. When I awoke I returned to the lobby to finish reading Steppenwolf by Hesse (great book). Finally returned. This was my chance, so I when she looked over the balcony at the busy Bangkok street I said, “It’s quite an interesting view, isn’t it?”
“Yeah it really is!”
It doesn’t really matter what you say, as long as she knows you exist, and you keep talking. You have to at least try.
She was a thirty year old flight attendant from India. Indian, I never would have guessed. Her skin was so fair. Her curves were like those of Spanish women.
We went for dinner, had a beer, and the conversation quickly turned to sex.
“Have you ever had sex on a beach?” she asked me.
“How was it?”
“Well…it’s really fun, except for the sand.”
“Yeah. It gets up there.” I pointed to her pussy. She giggled.
The conversation kept going towards sex. She only had four days vacation. She wanted to sleep with someone, I could tell. She’d never had sex in a shower. I asked her if she ever had a one night stand.
“Once,” she said.
“Well, he was aggressive. He made all the decisions. He invited me to his hotel room, and at first I didn’t want to go, but I was curious. We had a few drinks, and then I was there. It just happened.”
You see, a woman will often give you instructions on how to seduce her.
We went dancing, we had some more drinks, we bar hopped. And the whole time I slowly lead her, increasing the amount of physicality, the hugging, the cheek kissing. I teased her about how she was trying to seduce me, but I was very picky, and not easy.
“But all men just want to have sex. I can have any man if I want. They’re so easy.”
“Not me. I’m a virgin. I turn down sex every day.”
“No!” She laughed.
I took her across a bridge over-looking a river. She asked me why I was single. I told her I have daddy issues. She said she did too, because of course, everyone has daddy issues. She said later that this was when she decided she might sleep with me, when I became vulnerable. I’d told her about some of my fears, and my passions, like writing novels.
The first time I tried to kiss her, she said there were too many people around. So when we crossed back over the bridge, I tried again, and she let me. I’d gone from friend to potential lover.
There was a sense of urgency. When she said it was late, and she needed to get back to the hostel, I said, “No. I’m going to rent us a room. I want to spend more time with you. I know a place. Come.”
She followed me. We spent the night in that room, waking up several times to enjoy each other one last time. In the morning, she left for an island, and I returned to Canada that evening.
I’m still in touch with both of these girls, (and many more I met during my trip). I hope I get to see them again.
I don’t think I’ll be going back to Thailand, even for coaching. I’ve just been there too many times.
For now I’m going to rest and fill my bank account here in Canada. I also think I’m ready for another long term girlfriend. If Vancouver is good to me, this will be. If not, my eyes are already on distant shores, to foreign lands, to love and adventure.
***Contact me for coaching options. I’ll be travelling between Vancouver, Toronto and Montreal this summer. If you’re interested in a travel adventure I’m looking towards Europe. Let me know.***