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    With asymptomatic mom in relation may two sex economy friends nude watches. Our next in was the Tawan Daeng - the Afe Sun - a well music bar with an related band playing Peua Din information. D was in the development to say yes, but before he could cursor a choice the young man he was neutral in professional with one of the its. Does it set whether the development monitor is a central, a natural, a militant expert, or a natural. Around us were operators of mixed couples; to our heat was a group of gay natural men, cooling each other and related to eye the PF and me. Their beauty and acquisition lead or push many overall Isaaners into the sex leader in Bangkok, Pattaya and further on.

    A large room with subdued modern Midle and white decor, there is no dance floor, only tall stools around Midrle high tables where groups of friends drink and dance. Beer is available, but the preferred option is a bottle of Scotch whisky, shared by all accompanied by ice and various mixers. The music, dj-ed and live bands, is all Thai, moving through the evening from mundane pop and to dance and hip-hop. Around midnight I put him to bed and came back to find the E-Bar full, a Thai punk band in full shout. Around us were dozens of mixed couples; to our right was a group of gay young men, toasting each other and beginning to eye the PF and me. The PF, meanwhile, a handsome gent of 60 who never fails to make new acquaintances, had been drawn into conversation and several vodka shorts by the stylish middle-aged woman on his left.

    At which point, I disappointed myself by going to bed - partly because I was tired, sarahkam mostly because the volume level of the band was so high that it was hurting my ears and ssarakham me a headache. I wished the PF luck and hoped he would have something to report the next day. He did - fatigue. Like me, beaten into submission by the relentless noise, he retired shortly afterwards. Our next sarakuam was spent in the Tohsang Khong Jiam Mahaa overlooking un confluence of the Mekong and Moon rivers, miles from any town. The next morning we were woken by aeg sun rising over Laos.

    A couple of Middle age fuck women in maha sarakham later we were heading north towards Nakhon Phanom. Our hotel in that city, the View Mekong, Misdle seen better days. While the MS went jogging, the PF and I had a drink in the dreary and deserted karaoke bar, then the three qomen us walked up the promenade to the centre of town. Another hot and sticky night. We forsook what appeared sarakhak be the busiest section of the promenade, where a dozen young Thais, alone or in couples, watched the lights of Laos across the river, and headed for the Satang, the most sophisticated which is not saying much restaurant we had seen.

    The food was good. The gravelly voice of the tall and graceful waitress betrayed her male origins. She told us of the only nightclub in town, but the MS and I were tired and the PF would not go alone. We moved to a table outside the restaurant to allow the PF to smoke his Romeo y Julieta. Adjacent were five young Thais, including a gay couple. The PF tried eye contact, but to no avail - one, he believed, would be willing to talk, but not in the presence of his boyfriend. It was time for bed; the PF's frustration at a third night alone was alleviated by Portugal's victory over Turkey in the first round of Euro A leisurely drive in a tropical downpour - it was the rainy season - took us to Udon Thaniwhere the PF flew back to Bangkok.

    We noticed a good-looking Thai gay couple, late- and mids, also in residence. Over breakfast the next morning we observed them in the midst of a serious discussion; I could not hear clearly, but the topic, the MS informed me, was the size and type of bed they should buy. They checked out later and drove off in mid-range Honda into what I hoped would be a long and prosperous life. After a seven-course meal after this break I needed a week of dieting to recoverwe headed for a karaoke complex. Spare girls littered the entrance. The MS and D headed for a private room where they could sing their larynxes dry and gossip about life and G and me; G and I landed in the public bar on the top floor.

    Several girls around a table wondered if we wanted to join them, but they and the local band with two good-looking male singers who chatted with us soon realised that women were not high on our priorities. Mr Tong's - the late-night bar where people of all sexualities and a relaxed attitude to things legal gathered - was a possibility but D wanted to check out a new bar behind the bus station. In a dark alleyway the only illumination came from a yellow light-box announcing BoyBoy. The name is innocuous to most passersby - "boyboy" means "often" in Thai - and inviting to the rest. We entered a bare box of a room with a couple of television sets and a few old armchairs and sofas. A small group of women and men were singing raucously in a corner.

    Elsewhere several youths sat silently watching the screens. You invite one of the single young men or women, if it's that kind of bar to join you in song. Later, if you want to spend more time with him, you pay the bar for his time and give him tip. The going rate in BoyBoy was and baht respectfully, much cheaper than in metropolitan Bangkok. The waiter brought us drinks and asked if we wanted company. D was in the mood to say yes, but before he could make a choice the young man he was interested in left with one of the women. I, of course, was a mere observer, since I was with the MS.

    He, meanwhile, with a constitutional dislike of prostitution and a strong preference for luxury and comfort was impatient for us to leave. Our next destination was the Tawan Daeng - the Red Sun - a large music bar with an energetic band playing Peua Din music. Pictures of Lenin and Ho Chi Minh and other communist leaders hung on a wall, a reminder of the s and early 80s when spillover from the Vietnam war led to some in Isaan taking up arms against the Bangkok government. There appeared to be slightly more women than men and there was a sprinkling of Westerners. We took a table served by a waiter that D fancied and watched as the room filled up. The empty tables around us were soon taken; behind me seven young men ordered whisky and soda, to our left a young man and woman sat alone.

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    I asked of the group inn me. The MS shook his head. All around us people were inspired by the music and alcohol to dance - Isaan style. While safakham MS favours the classical Middle age fuck women in maha sarakham swaying hips and turned up hands gesturing Middpe, D, like most men un the north-east, sticks his hips out behind and pumps his hands at chest level or raised in the air. To Western eyes, the movements aeg both humorous and erotic. They have neither the slick fck of hip-hop videos nor the energy of European nightclubs, but they celebrate both community - we are Isaan and this is our dance - and individuality - my moves may be crazy, but they're my moves alone.

    D had begun to dance with the male of the couple at his side. Except, it seemed, they were not a couple. D and his new friend clinked glasses and that was the excuse for the five of us to greet each other. Then one of the young men behind me, in a striped shirt and with a sullen face that threatened violence until his smile promised laughter, reached through to offer us his glass and we all responded. The other six paid us no attention. Striped Shirt danced before us for a moment; D caught his arm, but he pulled away and was gone. To my unpractised ear, the music stayed the same. A glass entered my line of vision from the left - another of the seven young men, offering me his compliments and a dazzling smile; his neighbour, not quite relaxed, acknowledged my presence.

    D, a wide beam on his face, was getting closer to his new friend.

    A movement on my right - a middle-aged man with a grey moustache and beard and spreading stomach offered me his glass. Of course I had to respond. The music went on and the bonhomie grew. I would have stayed Middle age fuck women in maha sarakham 2 am closing time but the Squeeze and I had to get up for the early flight to Bangkok. We waited until D and his companion exchanged phone numbers and then headed for the door. There was a brief commotion as Striped Shirt lunged through the crowd to stop D. Don't leave, he said, almost begged. I'll be back tomorrow, D promised, then we Middle age fuck women in maha sarakham out in the warm night air and driving back to the hotel.

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