the third sex

O’s eyes opened wide and her sweet little rosebud of a mouth dropped open

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I had an email from a member during the week saying that he and his wife were coming to Bangkok and they would be looking for a ladyboy for some three-way fun. I found that a very refreshing request, somehow. I particularly liked the way in which the man’s wife is keen to find out about ladyboys, and in the fact they are both clearly intrigued by the beauty and eroticism of the third sex.

This is not the first time I’ve been asked for advice on this matter, but it doesn’t happen very often. The more usual request is from members who say they are coming to Thailand with their wives and how can they make a quick connection with a ladyboy while the missus is out shopping.

That is okay by me, and I help wherever I can. Over the years I have seen so many married couples trudging through Patpong, with the husband looking obediently straight ahead and the wife wearing a grim “I’m being very broad-minded about this but you’ll get hell from me later if I see you enjoying yourself, my hubby” expression that I’m always happy when the poor wretch makes a temporary break for it.

Although I wrote on this page the other day that ladyboys are not into other ladyboys and they are not into girls either, it is not too difficult if you go into the bars to find a ladyboy who will put on a lesbian display with a friend, or go with a male-female couple. You simply have to ask the mamasan, who will know what all of her charges are capable of doing.

From there, of course, it is up to you and the individual ladyboy. If she is in full working order, then anything should be possible. Too much hormone intake however can easily rob her of the ability to really get it up, although understanding and a little gentle coercian can often overcome this. Failing that, Viagra is easily available in Bangkok, and the offer of a tab might resolve the problem. Although, of course, if you have any qualms about offering someone medication, don’t even think about it.

But, I stress, check it out first to avoid disappointment. I remember asking Schoolgirl O if she had ever made love to a genetic girl. O’s eyes opened wide and her sweet little rosebud of a mouth dropped open.

“No!” she gasped, in much the same way she might have responded if I had asked her if she had ever assassinated a member of the Thai government.

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. . . . . . . …Dee: A bit bashful

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.Ladyboys are not into other ladyboys. I have only ever known of a couple of genuine ladyboy “lesbian” relationships, because ladyboys consider themselves female and they are into guys, not other ladyboys or for that matter, girls.

Fixing up a ladyboy lesbian shoot is therefore not always that easy. Some will do it simply because you ask, and that’s okay by me. But getting any real combustion going when you are taking the shots is something else entirely.

A while back I set up a shoot with Bea. I wanted to take some pictures of her with Toffee, but Toffee and she are roommates and therefore friends, and both nearly died of embarrassment when it came to the action.

Then I asked Bea if she would do it again with another friend, and she said she couldn’t do it with people she knew. A stranger would be okay. So I brought along Dee, and the two sat in my apartment and eyed each other up rather warily, then I took them off somewhere else and the shoot went okay. But it was pure sex - the kissing and hugging I also wanted to capture just didn’t happen.

A similar thing happened when I got Talisha and Jessica together. Again, these were roommates. They also happened to be the two of the most spectacularly endowed ladyboys on the Bangkok scene. They were happy to pose for the camera, and there was a little sex play, but play was all it was. Nonetheless, I was really happy with the set. With those two ladies, it would have been difficult to go wrong.

This shyness extends to ladyboys seeing each other naked. When I took Pat’s photos recently, she was terrified that her two friends Cherie and Ann, who had come with her, would catch a glimpse of her undressed. The door had to be firmly shut all the time.

However, I next did a shoot of Cherie, who is one of my favourite models. She isn’t so shy. Halfway through she went prancing out into the room totally nude, much to the amusement of the other two. She had a red feather boa, and danced around the room and out onto the balcony with the thing wrapped around her gorgeous little body. I found the whole episode very erotic, and Cherie clearly enjoyed herself.

But then the other day I did a video shoot of Dee, another girl who has a spectacular cock. On this occasion I brought along my maid’s son Ek, a fledgling ladyboy, to handle the video lights. I dressed Dee in a college girl’s uniform, and got busy with the video camera.

As the shoot progressed, I got more and more annoyed by the fact that Dee was covering up her dick with her hand. Then I turned round, and realised that Ek was standing behind me, admiring Dee’s erection. I couldn’t bundle him out of the room, because he was there to shift the lights around.

In the end, I lost my patience with Dee. Look, I said, this is a movie. I am trying to film your cock. How do you expect me to do it if you keep covering the f*@!&*g thing up?

“Sorry,” she said “I very shy.”

I got the video done in the end, but I had to throw away an awful lot of footage when I was editing the thing.

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There is a pink vibrator that I use sometimes for photoshoots. It has seen the inside of many a beautiful ladyboy bottom, and consequently I am very attached to it. The other day I had used it when I was taking some pictures, then I washed it in the bathroom and left it on the living room table. My maid, who has been with me for many years knows everything I do, and I left it along with a bundle of flimsy nighties and other gear for her to pack away the next day.

That evening, a couple of ladyboys came round. I did a shoot of one while I left the other to watch TV. The following morning, I realised that my trusty dildo was missing. The only possible explanation was that it had departed with the two ladyboys the previous evening.

I told my maid when she arrived, and she almost cried with laughter. She is a country girl at heart, and in very colourful Thai told me what she thought the light-fingered ladyboy would be doing with it.

I saw the funny side of things, resolved not to leave anything expensive laying about next time they came round, and made a mental note to buy a couple more vibrators when I next went to London. I had been photographing that one too much, anyway. It was made of soft plastic, and I had been using it out of consideration for my models. The others I have are all hard plastic, and because I like to see the models put a dildo all the way up, I seldom use them. Hard plastic must be painful, and I don’t want to see anyone being hurt.

A peculiarity of Thailand is that sex toys are not available here. Not legally, anyway. Thailand bans pornography, and it also bans sex toys. There was a case a year back when a Thai woman was busted for selling vibrators and other sex toys, and although I imagine she was simply fined and had the goods confiscated, it did reveal the ambiguity that lays at the heart of the Thai attitude towards the sex industry.

Prostitution is illegal too. But of course you can go almost anywhere in the country and find yourself a girl, a boy or a ladyboy, and no one will think it odd. There is, in short, no real need for dildos. I expect my light-fingered ladyboy friend took my favourite prop because of the sheer novelty of the thing, and that it now forms an interesting conversation piece in her apartment.

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As an Englishman, writing on the subject of ladyboys I sometimes have a problem when I consider that half of the members of this site are American.

Writing in praise of a beautiful bottom, I would naturally use the English word “bum”, which has been in currency since the middle of the 14th century as a slang term for the buttocks. Americans however would consider that I have added a sexual interest in hobos to my list of perversions, and in vain I would protest that they have been using the word “bum” to describe a tramp or loafer only since the middle of the 19th century.

In fact even the British have taken to using the American meaning, at least when using phrases such as “bumming a lift” and “bumming around.” We even say “what a bummer” when something goes wrong, although to persons of a certain age a bummer is a homosexual. This however belongs to the days before a homosexual became a gay, and quite likely no longer raises a snigger amongst English schoolboys.

(”Gay” however does raise a snigger even amongst those old enough to know better when it is spotted in its original innocent meaning, which lasted up until the 1960s.)

I am not able to use the word “ass”, because for the English an ass is a donkey. I am on shifting sands here, I do admit, because “ass” has also been used in England as a variation on the word “arse” for many hundreds of years. In fact, the word “donkey” was coined at some time in the late 18th century to remove the potential for embarrassment when talking about a beast of burden. But to modern-day Brits, an ass is still either a small horse or a stupid fellow, and has little or no sexual connotation.

I am not able to use the American term “buns” as this is the product of a bakery and has no sexual meaning, while a “butt” is to us a barrel in which we hold rainwater. If I use the French word “derriere”, which I think is really rather sexy, bringing to mind saucy French maids and frilly knickers, I might completely mystify a lot of people, and cause many more to think I am being precocious.

Why do I suddenly raise all these questions of language? Well, I have just spent a highly enjoyable but chaste four-week holiday in London where, kept indoors for much of the time by freezing cold weather I wallowed in a biography of William Shakespeare and also a large tome on the history of London and its various dialects, both purchased with book tokens gratefully received as Christmas presents.

So, to sign off I will defiantly reproduce this piece of doggerel spotted recently in a British newspaper and purporting to be the translation of an old Middle Eastern poem:

There is a shepherd boy over the river
With a bum like a peach
And he’s waiting for me
But I cannot swim.

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I’m still in cold, frosty London for a few more days. I took a walk to my neighbourhood pub this evening, where I met up with the local hooker (I live in a colourful part of London when I’m there). She is a lady of about 60 years, usually drunk when spotted in the pub, but still in good condition. Blond hair, trim figure, could pass for 40 in a good light.

I had never had a proper conversation with her before, but this time she was alone and standing by the bar, and three sheets to the wind. So I got talking to her. She asked me what I did. I explained that I was a writer and photographer. She asked me what kind of photographs I took. Er, travel, industry, a bit of glamour, I said, because I seldom let on with what I really do.

“Sex?” she asked.Well, erm, yes, I said.

Would you take my photo, she asked, urgently.

I explained that I was only in London for a couple more days and that I didn’t have my cameras and lights with me, but that I would be back in about six weeks time and I would be happy to do it then.

She was wearing black thigh boots and a black PVC coat (I’m not making this up). Suddenly I could see myself producing some very erotic photographs of this lady, and having myself a fun time into the bargain. She went on to tell me what she would like.

“Deep,” she said “Real deep. As kinky as you like. I like bondage and sadism, and I like being spanked.”

I watched her getting more and more into the idea of being photographed in the wildest poses. She clutched her glass so hard as she spoke I was afraid it would shatter. And yes, I could see how the pictures could work, because she has very pale skin and very blond hair, and if you match that with black leather it is going to work.

We swopped phone numbers. I know what will happen, and I’m going to need a tab of Viagra when I get round to doing the shoot. It would be even more sexy if she had a cock, but hey! It’s art, right?

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