Sophia Pt. 10

TWENTY-SEVEN

The plane touched down in Bangkok shortly after 4 o'clock local time, having made up some time owing to favourable winds. As Sophia emerged into the Arrivals Hall, she was approached by a smiling man of medium build, who looked neither young nor old in the way that many Thais seem to manage.

'Miss Sophia?' he said simply, with a slight raising of the eyebrows.

It turned out that Sukhorn had arranged a driver to take Sophia from Suvarnabhumi Airport to her five-star hotel, which was situated by the Chao Phraya river. Not only that, the man, called Ananda, gave her his card and told her that he would be at her disposal for her entire trip. She need only call him or message him and he would be with her in a matter of minutes.

That evening, a welcoming dinner had been organised for her in the hotel by her hosts, an agricultural agency representing some of the major producers of rice, tuna and shrimp in the country. Sophia's bank had been a natural choice for the agency to approach, since Japan was Thailand's number one export market for such products. The majority of her hosts, who numbered around twenty in total, were ethnic Chinese, and there were only two women among them. Sophia was welcomed with not one but three speeches by different interests within the association, and made a short speech of her own in response, making all the right noises and - having been well prepped by colleagues in London - being careful to make mention of all the major players.

Pleading fatigue after the journey - not entirely untruthfully - she declined the opportunity to attend a cultural show of some sort and retired to her room. On one of the upper floors, this afforded fine views over the city, with the river dominating the foreground and middle distance, as it lazed its way towards the interior. Once she had changed, she phoned Sukhorn to see when they might arrange a meeting. The Thai woman appeared delighted to hear from her and deflected Sophia's expression of gratitude for providing Ananda to look after her.

'You will find that in Thailand everybody is keen to serve you and see that you have a good time,' said Sukhorn earnestly. 'When might you be free for your first taste of the local culture?'

Sophia had used her time productively at that evening's dinner to clear time the following evening for herself. Rather than being greeted with disappointment, her suggestion to consolidate the schedule and structure the day's visits and meetings around lunch had been met with a degree of enthusiasm that suggested her hosts had better things to do in the evening. When she told Sukhorn that she would be free the following evening, the other woman told her that they would eat at Bangkok's best restaurant and then go on to a private club, where the entertainment was second to none.

That night, Sophia slept somewhat fitfully despite her tiredness owing to jetlag and had to drag herself into the shower at half past seven in order to make breakfast at eight. The day passed well enough, with trips to a tuna processing factory and a rice mill interspersed with several small group meetings. She managed to get back to hotel by five o'clock in time for a snooze before her date with Sukhorn, which was scheduled for eight o' clock. Ananda left her at the door right on time and Sophia, dressed in an ivory coloured satin jacquard mini dress with a bamboo and cherry blossom design and a traditional Mandarin collar and wearing her hair up, was guided by the maître d' to a table towards the rear of the restaurant. Seated there was a woman in perhaps her mid-forties wearing a grey organza sleeveless midi dress with a round collar. Unlike most Thai women, she wore her hair short and bore an uncanny resemblance to Joan Chen. She took Sophia's hand in her own delicate hand and welcomed her to Bangkok.

The restaurant did not disappoint, with the two women sharing a raft of dishes, including tom yum noodle soup, crab vermicelli, oyster and mussel omelette and, of course, pad thai. Sukhorn drank only mineral water, but recommended for her guest a Cervaro della Sala from Umbria, which her foreign friends typically enjoyed.

As the meal drew to a close, Sophia asked Sukhorn about the entertainment that she had planned. The older woman told her that it was a ladies' only club, which featured live music. Tonight a jazz ensemble would be performing. There was a spa, where one could receive massages, a gym, a yoga club with instructors and a reading room, as well as floor shows by popular and highly talented artistes. They set off for the club at around 9.30, Ananda taking them to their destination via back streets in around twenty minutes - no mean feat, Sophia thought, given the confusion of motorbikes, tuk tuks and taxis coming at you from all directions.

The club was located in a three-storey ochre-coloured neo-classical mansion, which had been built in the early twentieth century for use as a department store. The women entered by an imposing arched doorway, which was set off by rectangular windows with arched fanlights. Sukhorn signed Sophia in at the reception desk, which was adorned by a stunning Thai girl in traditional dress, with an orchid in her hair. Responding to something Sukhorn said, she lowered her head and made a remark that caused the older woman to smile and speak something in a mock scolding tone. As they moved away from the desk to the staircase to the next floor, Sophia asked what had transpired. She was told that the girl, Kamlai by name, had commented on Sophia's beauty and her hair in particular. Sophia responded that she had felt a little intimidated herself by the girl's radiance.

'Perhaps you will meet again,' said Sukhorn cryptically.

They entered a room on the first floor where a jazz trio were playing and took a table for two near the slightly raised stage on the same side of the room as that by which they had entered. They ordered drinks from the waitress, who wore a white spaghetti strap mini dress with a deep V-shaped decolletage and impractical four-inch heels. Well, impractical for serving tables, Sophia thought, but not for other duties she might be called upon to perform. While Sophia and Sukhorn were chatting about this and that, Sophia noticed that the room was filling up with women - some in pairs, others in groups of three or four. After perhaps an hour, the band departed and the lighting was dimmed. Curtains were pulled across the stage and low noises could be heard coming from behind them. After a brief interval, the curtains were drawn and a spotlight lit up two Thai women - one perhaps in her thirties (Sophia found it so difficult to tell) and the other considerably younger. The older one was wearing a faux short one-piece flight attendant's uniform in pink and purple, together with a retro military style hat worn at a rakish angle, while the other (presumably a passenger in the scenario they were acting out) was wearing a petite white jersey bandeau, low-slung torn denim jeans and sneakers. Slow sensuous music provided the backing track to their performance.

The air hostess, whose long dark hair was neatly tied up as appropriate for work, took a stool from an assistant in the wings and placed it centre and front of stage. She motioned for her passenger to sit down, which she did with something of a teenage pout; a pout that matched her hair, which struck Sophia as what a Clara Bow bob might look like if it was given a punk treatment with purple streaks. The hostess shook her finger in disapproval of her attitude, or perhaps her appearance - or both - and moved behind the girl. Smiling conspiratorially to the audience, she ran her hands down the girl's arms, causing her to turn and glare at her. The older woman showed no emotion whatsoever and proceeded to repeat the treatment. The girl bridled but did not turn round or show any obvious aggression. The hostess then ran her hands down the girl's sides, causing her boob tube to ripple but not disturbing it overly. This time the girl attempted to stand up, but the hostess was too quick for her, pushing her back down onto her seat. Before she had time to consider her next move, her tormentor ran her hand down the front of her body, this time pushing the flimsy garment down so that one nipple was showing. The girl instinctively moved to straighten her garment, but the older woman was too quick for her, disabling her hands. The girl struggled for a moment or two, then resumed her position, sitting with a straight back on the stool.

Still standing at the rear - so the audience could see the action unfold - the hostess yanked the bandeau down to reveal the petite girl's equally petite titties. One swipe of a mere fingernail later, and the dark brown nipples were standing erect. The girl attempted to defend what was left of her modesty by crossing her legs. Stepping round the stool and off the stage onto the main floor, the older woman bent down and untied the girl's shoelaces. She discarded the shoes in a manner that would find no entry in customer care manuals. Without missing a beat, the woman pulled the punk girl's legs apart and made for the button of her jeans. The girl was too slow - her hands ending up on top of her nemesis's. The lower pair of hands made quick work of the button and the zip, and, taking advantage of the girl's attempt to escape, tugged at the tight fabric, bringing the denims down to her knees. Confronted by a lavender lace heart G string, the hostess shook her head in disgust, before pulling the jeans off and tossing them aside. She reached for the bandeau and pulled it down from the girl's midriff over her feet to join the untidy pile on the floor.

This left only the sad excuse for a pair of panties, which the hostess looked at with fresh disdain. She seemed to debate what to do with them before leaving the stage briefly and returning with a pair of scissors. She cut through the fabric at the hip without compunction and cast the gossamer material aside as if it were tainted. The girl attempted to cover her shame with her hands, but the harridan would have none of it. She gestured to her to get off the stool and in its place a stagehand put a good size easy chair without any arms. She signalled to the girl to get on the chair and to sit back with her legs in the air and her hands around her ankles. The woman turned the chair round so that the girl was facing the side of the room and zeroed in on her defenceless private parts. With little tenderness, she prised open her tight folds and drove her tongue inside her. The girl gritted her teeth in an attempt to remain unmoved by the predatory action, but the cougar had her measure. Pushing a finger inside her rapidly moistening vulva, she brought her tongue expertly and with greater sensitivity onto the girl's clitoris. Losing the battle to retain control of the situation, her victim appeared to beg in her native tongue. Gratified, the woman increased the rate of her tongue-lashing and slid an extra finger into the all too accommodating hole.

She had the girl's measure and they both knew it. Within 30 seconds, she was coming into the older woman's mouth. At the same time, Sophia felt a hand work its way up her thigh under her mini dress and directly under her skimpy panties. The hand made its way unerringly to her sex and two fingers (it seemed like two, but it could have been more) entered her in one easy motion. Sophia's heart missed a beat and she lifted herself slightly off the seat better to accommodate the intruder. She looked at Sukhorn and saw that she was looking her full in the face with a mixture of severity and passion. Sophia herself was close to climax, but with considerable difficulty mustered the discipline to bring herself down off the peak for now in anticipation of more propitious times to come.

Back in the spotlight, the air hostess was far from finished. She clearly wanted to put her feet up - literally as well as figuratively, as it proved - and the punk girl would need to do her bit to help her relax. Her first job was to help the older woman out of her uniform. She found the zipper and seconds later the dress lay pooled around the older woman's feet. The woman pointed to her pink cotton panties and motioned to the girl to take them off. She hesitated and looked away, as if scared of the consequences if she were to violate the other's private space, but her partner was insistent. The girl crouched down to remove them and was rewarded with a shove in the back, which sent her to her knees. Her eyes, now level with her tormentor's core, stared at the fabric as if uncertain if it were not poisonous. The woman took one hand and led it to her waistband, then repeated the operation with the other hand. She nodded her head vigorously in command. The girl slowly pulled down the fabric to reveal a neatly trimmed bush, planted above dark, rippled, protruding petals. While the woman stepped out of her underwear, she drew the girl's face towards her fearsome-looking lips, until her nose and mouth were touching them. The girl did nothing but kneel there, breathing somewhat irregularly.

A clip on the back of the head did the trick. The girl opened her mouth and started, tentatively at first, to lick her folds. The woman responded by raising her left foot and placing it on the chair to give the girl better access. Using her fingers, she gingerly prised apart the petals and savoured for a second the fragrance coming from the other woman's centre. Then she brought her tongue back into play, licking the inner lips and then probing deeper into her abyss. The older woman began to whimper, urging her protegee onto greater things through her wordless encouragement. The girl didn't seem to need asking twice, as she powered her tongue as deep as she could penetrate into her lover's cavern in a clear attempt to bring her to orgasm with the greatest expedition. Her efforts were not in vain.

TWENTY-EIGHT

The spotlight was turned off, the room lights were switched back on, the audience applauded and the women slipped into the wings. Sukhorn beckoned to a waitress and ordered more drinks, another glass of Italian white for Sophia and a lime soda for herself.

'I have arranged a surprise for you,' said the Thai woman, placing on her hand the fingers that had so recently invaded Sophia, as if nothing had passed between them. 'I think you will like it.'

'You are full of surprises,' said Sophia, taking a sip of her wine.

'Also, I have arranged a day out on my boat for the day after tomorrow. I thought you might like to travel to Ayutthaya, the ancient capital of our country.'

'That sounds perfect.'

After a few minutes, Sukhorn told her that it was time for her surprise. Taking her by the hand, she led her to the second floor and opened a door at the end of the corridor. It was a bedroom - perhaps a place where members could stay overnight. It was lit by two lamps on bedside tables. The Thai woman told Sophia to sit on the bed and wait.

'You will enjoy this,' she said with a smile, closing the door behind her.

Sophia removed her shoes, sat at the end of the bed and waited for her surprise. She wondered if it might be one of the girls who had just been performing but dismissed that as unlikely, as they would need to rest and, anyway, it wouldn't be much of a surprise. After a couple of minutes, there was a knock on the door and what can only be described as an apparition stood in the doorway. It was a woman in what Sophia took to be the costume of ancient Thailand - the sort of costume worn by practitioners of traditional Thai dance. The first thing Sophia noticed was the towering headdress, a kind of golden crown that tapered to a point nearly a foot above the head, studded with jewels. The face beneath the massive adornment - one that Sophia thought she had seen before - was possessed of an almost painful beauty. The complexion, which was of an ethereal paleness, set off coal grey eyes, ruby lips and a delicate, aquiline nose of perfect proportions. Her ears, neck and arms were bedecked with wooden and leathern ornaments, with a chunky beaded necklace, from which a rhombus-shape chunky pendant hung, taking pride of place. Her breasts were covered by a maroon bandeau and below her bare belly she wore a long skirt with a diamond pattern, predominantly in tones of brown with bands of light blue and green towards the bottom. Her feet were bare and her toenails were painted blood red, matching her fingernails.

'My name Kamlai,' the girl said in broken English, presumably coached by Sukhorn. 'I here to serve you.'

The moment the girl started to sway from side to side in front of Sophia, she knew this wasn't going to be a traditional Thai dance. Moving her hips sensuously, she raised her hands above her head and brought them together - fingertip to fingertip - above her headdress. She inched forward towards Sophia, moving her feet in a dainty way that reminded Sophia of dressage ponies she had seen when she was a girl. Moving closer still, she ran her hands down Sophia's flanks, causing her to shudder and bringing goosebumps to her arms. Sophia knew that the rule was that the client didn't touch the dancer, but somehow she felt the rules didn't apply tonight. Still, for the moment she was content just to play the passive role.

Moving closer still, Kamlai moved her hands over Sophia's legs down to her knees. Looking her straight in the eyes, she moved her hands to her own waist and unclasped the skirt, holding it up for a few seconds before letting it fall to the stone floor. She was wearing maroon hipster panties. As she continued to sway, her jewellery made percussive sounds that formed a kind of musical backdrop to her performance. Moving further forward still, she placed her left knee on the bed and her right knee in between Sophia's legs. She continued to sway in front of Sophia, not touching her, even though she could feel the older woman's yearning. Sophia, for her part, was desperate to pull the girl's top down and feast on her tits, so tantalisingly close.

Kamlai moved her right leg so that she now had her client hemmed in, shifted her weight forward so that she was now all but sitting on Sophia's lap and arced her back so that her face was only a matter of inches from hers. With her hands not in play - they remained on the bed - she swayed in, her mouth coming closer to Sophia's, but stopping just short of lips that parted to receive her. Three or four times she advanced, but on each occasion she withdrew at the last minute. Sophia dug her nails into the bedsheets, as she strained every sinew to keep herself from engaging with her playmate. Finally, Kamlai's soft mouth made contact with the older woman's upper lip, holding it in its grip for a second or two before moving to the lower lip. Soon the two women were lost in a feverish embrace, Kamlai's jewellery clanking as she worked hard to keep up with Sophia. Tongue clashed with tongue, teeth with teeth, nose with nose, as they yielded to the intensity of their feelings.

Sophia knew that the Thai girl should be leading her, she knew that she wished to perform a striptease for her, but what she knew and what she needed were simply not in alignment. She had thought about it for too long; now she must really do something about it. Without breaking the kiss, Sophia tugged down Kamlai's top and started urgently kneading her breasts with her hands. The Thai girl broke the kiss, looked at Sophia with a look of disappointment and pulled her bandeau back into place. She then leant back into Sophia and resumed where she had left off. One hand found its way to the concealed zip at the apex of the collar by Sophia's neck and slowly pulled it right down. Not allowing Sophia to help, she took off the dress, one sleeve at a time, and discarded it on the bed. With barely a pause, she whipped off the ivory coloured magnolia lace thong and dropped it by the dress. The English woman sat before her in all her naked glory, pleading her cause with come-to-bed eyes.