the third sex

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I was walking along Sukhumvit Road during the week, and I noticed that the big hotel that is being built on the site of the Clinton Plaza bar area is almost complete. I hadn’t been along this stretch of the road near Soi 13 for a while, and I racked my brains trying to remember when the plaza had been closed down. Must have been five years ago, at least, probably a bit longer.

Clinton Plaza hadn’t actually been around for long. It took its name from you-know-who, of course. It was a rather neat little cluster of bars, a nice mix of bar-beers and go-go bars, but the big attraction for me was the Crack House, an excellent ladyboy bar.

The frontage of the bar was painted with cracks, but inside the decor was conventional enough. There was a stage, big enough to hold a dozen ladyboys as long as they danced close together, and there was a raised seating area at the back, which was my preferred perch.

The bar had some beautiful girls, amongst them Yo, Tan, A, Anny, May and Janny, all names that will be familiar to the old-timers. The mamasan was a ladyboy in her thirties named Aun, and she had one of the biggest dicks I have ever seen. The first time I went into the Crack House, she came up to me and thrust herself against my thigh. I felt that huge thing stirring in her pants like a large snake. I took Aun out for a photo session, and her dick was even more impressive than I had thought it would be. Boy, could she cum!

There was a short-time hotel off to the side of the bar area, and one of the rooms had a whirlpool tub. I took A in there for a photoshoot, and got her into the tub. I had brought some bubble-bath soap with me, and I tipped it into the water rather too enthusiastically, because when I turned on the whirlpool the bubbles rose up so high that I can remember A’s cute little face being a picture of astonishment and fear, as they threatened to engulf her and overflow onto the floor.

Alas, Clinton Plaza was terminated in the time-honoured Thai way, with locked doors and angry tenants. I can remember going along on the evening the bar operators had arrived to find their businesses had been closed for them, and finding a crowd of bemused ladyboys outside the Crack House, their jobs and salaries gone without warning.

The hotel will be a nice one, but it will be only a hotel. If the guests should see the occasional scantily-clad ghost walking the corridors, I would not be surprised.