“Rat – A – Tat – Tat , Rat – A – Tat – Tat” it begins again. Like clockwork at 7:30am, just when I’ve laid down to sleep as my vampire nocturnal alarm clock says I should do , the neighbor’s drilling into my bedroom wall and by extension into my brain starts once more. It’s been like this every morning for a solid two weeks, a two week trek into insanity without sleep. Which is bad enough but seeing as it’s come close on the heels of my battle with the flu in mid-January I had started to feel that I had gone the better part of a month without any rest whatsoever.
I have but one solitary pillow so I take the thin blanket and tie it around my head so I look like Ali Baba from the 40 thieves in an attempt to muffle out the noise but alas, it muffles out the sound the way a bottle of Jack would remedy a hangover.
“Rat – A – Tat – Tat” again. Fuck, how much renovation can this fucker do on one wall over the course of two weeks? Is turning his wall into Swiss cheese his idea of new decor? And if so, how long does it take really to drill a few hundred holes, surely not a fortnight?
I yawn with my mouth so gaping wide a bear would mistake it for a cave to hibernate in. My two hands wipe away the tears of frustration in my eyes, pulling them down so that my cheeks are pulled down towards the lower half of my chin and then my fingers crawl through my hair pulling slightly to alleviate my pounding headache somewhat. It works, the way a peanut satisfies a satiating hunger.
Rat – A – Tat – Tat , Rat – A – Tat – Tat .
Now I don’t believe in god, heaven, hell or any of the nonsense humans make up to mask their fear of not existing after death, but I do subscribe to the theory that the concept of infinity means whatever action each of of does at any instant of time has already been done an infinite number of times. As I lay there in my bed thinking about the concept of infinity I secretly prayed that this life be the one plane of time that me and the neighbor’s life will cross paths … so that I may pull his scrotum sack up over his face and pin it there with needles. More or less.
It wasn’t even 11am that I gave up once again trying to get a moment of sleep and with half open eyes I did my best to coherently answer the 40 or so emails that were waiting for me. Forty is a misnomer for every 4 replies I send I inevitably get one back, so 40 becomes 50 which becomes 60 and so on until that number also approaches infinity, or at least that’s how it seems … especially when dead tired.
I get these “you’ve been distant” emails from everybody this month and January as well, along with “are you ok???? You haven’t written for your blog in a month” type emails. I apologize. You know that nauseating feeling you get in your stomach when you’re at wit’s end from working too hard or having suffered through a never ending sickness? That’s how I’ve felt every day since about January 15th.
Rat – A – Tat – Tat , gosh the wall’s about to collapse it seems as the noise hits its crescendo mid afternoon. Then it suddenly stops right at 3pm, an hour before my first session.
Mercy. Thank you.
“The quality of mercy is not strained, it dropeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath. ” Ya, Shakespeare never lived beside this dude I can guarantee you that. Mercy from this guy doesn’t drop like rain it hits you over the head with a sledgehammer saying “enjoy the silence, I’ll be back.”
I rattle off 4 straight hours of Tease & Denial and I’m ultra cruel with both dudes as I let them both leave in succession without an orgasm, the second guy literally back shuffles out my condo door begging me while clutching at his dick and balls with both hands, his pants sprouting a horizontal metal flag pole from the crotch area. Then after my most hated part of what I do … the cleaning of the toys , sheets, clothes and the rest of the condo I realize that it’s 9pm and once again I haven’t eaten a single thing. My refrigerator is a lost cause in such emergencies as it has more perfume inside of it than food.
What’s needed is a trip across the street to 7 Eleven to get some desperation food so I swipe my keys off the kitchen counter and I decide to forego changing back into my street clothes choosing instead to stay dressed in my skimpy and ultra sexy evening dress that I had worn for the last session. I exit my condo and close the door behind me and upon hearing a double slam I checked the door handle to make sure it was locked.
When I turned towards the elevator my blood froze. Walking step in step beside me was Mr. Drill Happy himself. Now if you know me and you know my personality … well you know that there wasn’t going to be any uncomfortable elevator silence for the trip to the ground floor. By the time the doors opened to the lobby there was a genuine hate on between us and we were engaged in full argument which made the security guard manning the front desk stare and track us with his eyes as we bantered back and forth through the lobby.
Apparently that elevator also serves as Dr.Who’s telephone booth because I realized when I opened the lobby door leading outside that I was suddenly in the North West Territories of Upper Canada. Or so it seemed as I had been oblivious to the fact it was about 15C outside with wind. What I was instantly aware of however was that under my skimpy tight half see through dress my nipples had grown to the size of cookies .. the kind with real pointy rock hard chocolate chips … and Mr Drill guy was gawking at my chest suddenly. That may have been the first time in my life I caught a guy staring at my boobs and not my ass. Whereas it’s quite uncontested that I have the hottest ass in Bangkok , there are some 12 year olds who would place higher than me in a boob size competition.
“I don’t have anything to wrap you in, sorry” he said while making an empty gesture of taking off an invisible blazer or jacket.
“Well you could always put your arm around me if you want to keep me warm, I”m only going to 7 across the street.”
He seemed downright shocked at the offer and hesitantly put his arm over my shoulder to which I leaned right in to his warm chest and held him tightly with my right arm around his waist. It was downright funny seeing him walk past the saluting security guard by the sidewalk with a boner that seemed to be saluting back.
By the time we got inside 7 Eleven he was laughing at how cold I was to which I slapped his left shoulder and told him how much he sucked as a blanket. I got my eggs, rice, and soi sauce and he stood in line beside me with laundry detergent of all things.
“Do you want to come over for dinner?” I asked him suddenly right out of the blue.
He didn’t say yes, he just nodded eagerly the way a five year old does having just been offered free ice cream.
“Then we’re going to need a bottle of wine”
“Two” he said quickly.
“Two” I confirmed.
I know you’re thinking something like the shot glass scene from Indiana Jones was going to go down later that evening … and you’d be absolutely correct haha.
We sat on the living room couch with the balcony doors fully open so as to allow the cold breeze to playfully flap the lace of my dress happily around my boobs. By the time we reached the bottom of the second bottle he was trying to gauge whether or not I was drunk enough to make his move. Though our conversation had been quite interesting all evening long with topics that had covered Noriega, New Zealand and Nietzsche among others, his brain was more focused on what was inside my dress rather than inside my mind.
He leaned over to get inside my personal space and when he did my foot came up to rest upon his mouth.
“Before I ask you to leave, which I’m going to do momentarily, I need you to promise me something in return for letting you touch my feet with your mouth as you’re doing now.”
I think secretly, all men desire to kiss a woman’s feet. There must be something about having a woman’s foot pressed up against your mouth that makes you remember how great the days were when you crawled around with a baby sucker in your teeth.
“Promise you what?” he said speaking directly through my toes without any attempt to remove them whatsoever. Guys when confused, will take any action as a sign of foreplay. Hell I could probably have played hide and seek with my baby toe inside his nostril and he would have let me do as I please.
“No more drilling before the afternoon.”
“Ahh” he scowled, “ok yes , and I get …” he let his voice trail off wanting me to pick up on the hint of the open ended sentence.
“You get to leave” I smiled and spoke at the same time standing up in the process.
He both backpedaled and walked forward to my condo door, twisting and turning about 4 times between the sofa and the foyer. When we got there and he had slipped on his loafers he turned for one last desperate plea to stay.
“We don’t have to end the evening like this do we?”
I let the back of my right hand drop down and brush lightly against his bulging cock inside his pants as I stepped aside and opened the door with my left.
“You’ve done enough drilling for one day don’t you think? and I leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek and thank him for a wonderful evening making sure to dwell on the fact that his personality had charmed me to no end.
“The pleasure was all mine, all mine, really, thank you, thank you for a wonderful evening, you are the most amazing Thai lady I’ve ever met and to think you live right next door. My goodness.”
I closed the door behind him, waited half a second to enjoy my smile, and then on my tip toes I danced into my bedroom and leaped into my bed wrapping myself in my blanket all in one motion. I glanced at my watch, 4am, wow – totally worth the 6 hours of seduction. A moment later I was fast asleep, dreaming happily knowing that come dawn ; hell would freeze over before he picked up that drill in the morning again.
k xx
[formcrafts id=’10805′ name=’Book A Session’ align=’left’][/formcrafts]
