the third sex

I had an old friend in town who likes ladyboys but who doesn’t really know Patpong, so I took him for a wander through. We went along Patpong 2, the narrow pedestrian way that runs alongside the main strip, and paused at Pinocchio, an agreeable little pub. The staff here are a mixture of ladyboy and GG, with only about half a dozen of each, and the place is very friendly.

Pushing open the door, I was greeted by a gorgeous ladyboy who seemed vaguely familiar. “Remember me?” she asked. When you meet and photograph as many ladyboys as I do, this is a familiar situation. You may have photographed them with their pants down and shooting a load only a few weeks previously, or maybe a couple of years previously, but there are so many they can become a blur. Besides, when I take their pix I like them to wear minimal makeup. At night, in full regalia, they are often transformed.

“I am Pocky,” she said “Rachel!” Then the penny dropped. Not only had I taken her photograph on a couple of occasions a few years back, I also had even closer knowledge of her.

As a 16-year-old boy, Pocky had worked as a waiter at a restaurant near where I live. He was making pocket-money after school. Clearly gay and naturally effeminate, he always looked uneasy and self-conscious. Not a happy looking young man, I thought to myself. But at this time, of course, the only thing I had to do with him was to order my dinner.

Over the next couple of years I watched as Pocky morphed into a ladyboy. Not a particularly feminine one at first, but gradually the “he” disappeared and I began to think of Pocky as a “she”. When she turned 18, I invited her back to my place. She was painfully, embarrassingly shy. For a few months, she became a regular visitor, creeping in and snuggling up under the bedclothes. I took a couple of photosets, and thought she looked good. She liked the name Rachel, so that’s how she appears on the site. Then she went to college, and moved away. We lost touch until I entered Pinocchio.

“I not shy now!” she said, as we sat down, and she proceeded right there in the bar to pull her cock out of her panties and massage it up to full strength. It was a lot more impressive than it had been. “I not take hormones now,” she explained. Then, for good measure, she turned round on the bench seat and hoisted up her skirt and pulled down her pants, showing me (and the rest of the pub) her cute little bottom.

Apart from this boldness, the most remarkable thing was Rachel’s beauty. She had blossomed into a beautiful girl. Great makeup, lustrous hair, a slender figure, cute boobs, and a natural dimple in her left cheek that she must always have had, but I had not noticed. Above all, she looked happy. A bouncy, sparkly personality, and a confidence that I don’t think she would have had if she had remained male.

I turned round to see my friend sitting on the bench seat next to me, and his eyes were popping out like gobstoppers. Even the GGs in the pub were looking on bemused. I thought back to the time when little Pocky would lay on her back in my bed, her stiff little cock in the air, her eyes shut with the sheer embarrassment of it all. My, how you’ve changed.

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Miss Hardcock lay on the bed next to me. I had given her the nickname because she looked just like a teenage Thai girl. Oh, I nearly forget to mention the other reason, which is that she had a cock that never seemed to subside.

She would arrive at my place, and we would go straight into the bedroom. She usually wore a little dress, and I would lift the hem and slowly pull down her knickers. Her cock would be tucked back between her legs but, seeing the light of day (or evening, to be precise), it would struggle to burst free, emerging as a huge banana shape that rose up to touch her belly.

And like that it would stay. No matter what we did. She would shoot a great big hot sticky load and then lay down, and her dick would still be curving back towards her belly button. Eventually it would soften up a little but I only had to look at the thing and it would stir with fresh interest.

Miss Hardcock came from the province of Khon Kaen, in Issan. She was tiny, about five-four, and there was something slightly Khmer about her, as she had the darker skin that you often find amongst those of Cambodian extraction. The border is not that far away.

But what I really liked about her, apart from the obvious, was her face. She had the face of a little tigress: narrow slanted eyes, a watchful expression, and the demeanor of someone with a whole lot of pent-up energy. Which of course she had in abundance.

She was laying there next to me. She had a particularly cute little bottom, brown-skinned and flawless, and I had just been up it with considerable energy.

“You like?”, she had asked breathlessly, as I had been deep inside her. “You like my bottom?”

The fact was, I loved her bottom. When she lay on her tummy, smiling at me over her shoulder, she looked just like a teenage girl. The kind of girl you fantasise about: brown-skinned, small, slight, and with an utterly lascivious expression. When she turned over and lay on her back, she still looked like a teenage girl. Except for one thing, of course.

Now she lay on her back, her enormous dick yet to shoot its first load of the evening, hard and shining and twitching slightly. She rolled onto her side, and gave me her tigress smile. Reaching for the lubricant, she smeared a great handful over her cock so that it glistened.

“Now your turn,” she said, and got onto her knees, still smiling.

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I’m afraid that Sargeant Shameless has just sent me the following missive that is shameless even by his deplorable standards. I reproduce it only as a warning of how low a man can sink.

On my latest incursion into Patpong I stopped at KC3, Patpong’s only ladyboy-only bar to catch up on old friends and try to make new ones. KC3’s house rules are that as soon as a customer sits down, a bunch of ladyboys line themselves up in front of him and pester him until he agrees to pick at least one of them to buy a ladydrink or possibly more. But since the Sargeant plays by his own rules, he shooed all the nagging ladyboys away while scanning the bar for the prospect most to his liking.

Before I go any further with the story, I would like to make a small interlude here to clarify that the reason I was in Patpong that night was that I was on a date with a European woman, who was looking to buy a knock-off designer purse in Patpong’s night market. Spotting an opportunity, I suggested she look for the purse at her unhurried and exhaustive female shopping pace, while I looked myself for a supposedly hard-to-find pair of men’s designer jeans. After we went our different shopping ways, I bought the first pair of jeans I saw and made a beeline for KC3. But the reality was that I had barely one hour before I had to meet my girlfriend again and thus was not even thinking of attempting any shameless endeavours.

Back to KC3. I did see a new ladyboy very much to my liking and invited her over for a drink. She started the usual small talk in hopes of bagging a paying customer. “What your name?” “Where you come from?” “How long you stay Thailand?” “You been to bar before?” The Sargeant just usually wings these questions as his mood strikes: sometimes telling the truth, sometimes not. So when the ladyboy asked, “Where you stay Bangkok?” I made up an answer by picking a number street out of my head: “Sukhumvit Soi 2″.

And then the most incredible thing happened: The ladyboy’s face lit up, she looked at me deeply and hugged me closely saying “I remember you now.” And she apologised with kisses for not having “recognized” me right away. Then she added ” I smoke yaba your apartment. You very good farang.”

Apparently, she had mistaken me for a Bangkok punter with an apartment on Soi 2 who had barfined her and provided her with all-you-can-smoke yaba (a crack-like drug favoured by Thai bartypes). Seeing the beautiful smile on her face, I did not want to disappoint her and just made a sheepish face as if saying, “I was afraid you would never recognise me.” Well, whoever the Soi 2 guy was, he sure made an impression on the ladyboy, as she took such a fancy to him that turned to me and said “You not fuck me that time, you can fuck me now, no money OK.”

My eyes popped out, my pulse started racing, and the shameless knob started throbbing against my zipper. I had about half an hour before the agreed time to meet with my girlfriend so I had to decide fast. This being the kind of situation the Sargeant lives for, I knew I had to go for it, and just hope the other guy did not have a small dick or some other feature that might give me away. So I pulled out the money for the barfine, told her to get dressed and hurry up to one of Patpong’s short time lounges. We made our way there separately, just in case my girlfriend was within visual range (thank heavens she wasn’t!). The encounter was much shorter than the Sargeant would have liked, but I made the point of penetrating her as soon as I got hard and of doing it from behind to minimise chances of her looking at me and realising her confusion.

In the end, I offered to give her 300 baht (less than 10 US$), which she accepted without bitterness at how small it was and even gave me one more big, heartfelt hug. I would have given her more money, but that would have spoiled the experience of me getting a freebie, which was the whole point.

I did make it back to my girlfriend at the agreed spot on time as she happily waved a fake Dolce&Gabana purse at me and I reciprocated by pulling out of a bag a pair of studded fake Armani jeans. Turns out they were not even my size so I had to go back to Patpong the next day to exchange them. But that’s another story.

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Ronnie Kray famously used to say, “I might be queer, but I’m not a poof.” And you know something? No one ever disagreed with him.

I tend to feel this way about ladyboys. A ladyboy, after all, is biologically male. If you consider yourself to be a straight person, then finding ladyboys a turn-on is decidedly queer, at least in the dictionary sense of the word, ie peculiar.

For those who might worry about their sexuality because they have realised they find ladyboys exciting, there is a simple litmus test. Think back over the course of the day, and ask yourself: Who was I looking at out in the streets? Was I eyeing up the girls, or the fellers?

Another test occurred to me recently, when an extensive overseas visit meant that I didn’t set eyes on a ladyboy for three weeks. As a result, I was plagued by erotic dreams. A few were about ladyboys, but overwhelmingly the dreams were about genetic girls. I didn’t once have an erotic dream about a man.

In the occasional dream where I do find myself in a sexual situation with a male, my dream responses are those of repugnance. My reaction to the idea of having sex with a man is pretty much that of a conventional straight male: No.

So, as I have said here before, there is a dividing line somewhere in which a young male ceases to be male and becomes as alluring to me as would a girl.

This might be because of the subliminal impulses triggered by a ladyboy taking female hormones, but often I find those who don’t take the stuff to be more attractive than those who do.

In fact, I often find ladyboys who have taken hormones for many years and who consequently have an over-egged appearance and a flaccid dick to be a real turn-off. The same applies to those who have put too much plastic in their faces. And post-ops I simply have no use for. I have seen too many surgically created pussies in my time, and examined too many of them closely, to find them remotely interesting.

Back to the old conundrum, then. What is it about a ladyboy that triggers the erotic senses? What is the actual tipping point? I’ve posed that question here before so many times, but I still don’t have the answer.

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I very much regret to say that Sargent Shameless has sent me another story, which I reproduce here. If you are of a sensitive disposition, may I suggest that you look away now.

‘Is there anything better than one big, juicy ladyboy cock?

The answer is: two big, juicy ladyboy cocks.

This time I would like to share how yours shamelessly entertained two of Bangkok’s most spectacular cocks in one single night.

Once upon a time, Casanova was the only bar in Bangkok with all non-operated ladyboys. The Sargeant was a regular and gradually became acquainted with the sphincters of many of Casanova’s accomodating staff. However, with only a couple of exceptions, such encounters were of the short-time variety despite upfront promises of passionate lovemaking until dawn and reinvigorating sleep in each others’ arms into mid-afternoon.

Being an incurable romantic, your Sargent here just started hanging out at the bar, buying a few lady drinks and then moving on to more longtime-friendly pastures. In those days, the Casanova ladyboys would dare you to play with their meat in hope of enticing you to close the deal (such live action would take place on the couches at the end of the bar distant but by no means out of sight from the other patrons). As I was often the only customer in the bar, I had my pick of all the cocks in all shapes and sizes being flashed at me. Thus I often found myself with a cock or two in my hands and/or mouth.

This was how I became acquainted with the two Casanova ladyboys who had two of the most magnificent endowments I have ever tried to swallow. As a matter of principle, I don’t use the real names of former fucks, so let’s just call them Tassica and Jelisha, who, I must add, are also old friends of our good Captain, who has featured them separately and together in his earlier pictorials.

On that memorable night, as on other previous occasions, I was practising stickshift gear with Jelisha’s cock when she asked me for the thousandth time that I barfine her. And for the thousandth time, I made up some phony excuse of why I could not do it. But this time Jelisha went hysteric on me, yelling and threatening (as only scorned ladyboys can) that I had been lying to her for five years (true), that she had offered to come with me for free (true also) and that she did not want to ever see me back in the bar (she meant it). At that point, faces had to be saved (hers and mine) so I said OK, I would barfine her if she agreed to longtime. She did and it was a date.

At that point, the equally well-endowed Tassica reminded me that I had also been promising to barfine her and asked to come along. She even said I could fuck her without a condom. As flattered as I was by such an unlikely offer (which I would not accept unless I could verify a blood test), I again excused myself and promised I would call her later in the trip…Tassica is a more calm type and accepted a lady drink instead. Soon after, all was forgotten and I was playing with their rock hard cocks and briefly had both of them in my mouth for a picture.

When the time came, my interlude with Jelisha was as I had expected. Kinky as hell but no chemistry. Her cock was indeed spectacular and was rock hard the whole time. Long, heavy, hairy, pointing forward with a slight bent. She complimented me on the size of my own tool (bigger than hers, but I am farang), and on my oral skills, which coming from her meant a lot to me (she is not the complimenting kind). She took my shaft with apparent eagerness and slapped her own meat to orgasm. My attempts at kissing her while fucking missionary were met with closed lips, so I turned her over, grabbed her cock and balls from behind and let her have it full throttle. After I emptied my balls, she got up, took a shower and left. She had not asked for money, but I doubt that she would have left without a fuss if I had not given her some. As expected, she did not follow through with longtime and that was it for Jelisha and the Sargeant…

This encounter took place at the Nana where I was staying, and afterwards it must have been around 1:30 am so I decided I might as well go down for a beer and watch the NEP closing time festivities.

As usual, truckloads of ladyboys were standing around in front of the NEP in last, desperate attempts to make some cash for the night. One of them was Tassica. Our eyes met. I waved the room key. She nodded. 15 minutes and a couple showers later, I was polishing her shaft with my already cock-blasted, but still eager mouth. Tassica’s cock in full glory is rock hard, perfectly vertical, with a bulbous pink head. Yes, if I had to describe Tassica in one word that would be it: “bulbous”! Jaw-breaking, ass-ripping bulbous.

But back to the action, Tassica was surprisingly diligent to the point of sweetness, positioned for a 69, and patiently sucked my shameless shaft back into readiness. Then she duly bent over to take it as promised (after some hesitation, I did use the damn condom). Throughout the long pounding she took in order for me to come a second time in barely one hour, her cock remained rock hard as she played with it. After I came, she begged to fuck me (unlike Jelisha) and I realised there and then that Tassica’s true nature was to be a top and that I was about to have my comeuppance for all the hemorrhoids I have caused the sons and daughters of Siam. It was not so much the huge girth of her cock, but the steel-pipe hardness and the strength with which she pounded. She did stay the night, but I kinda wish she hadn’t, because in the morning she started over tearing my battered asshole with her morning glory more bulbous than ever.

To sum up, it was a memorable night in that I finally enjoyed two of Bangkok’s legendary super-endowed ladyboys. I had both their cocks in my mouth at the same time, and then did them at length separately.’