Dying to Live

Chapter 17 - You Missed a Bit

"Okay," I said. However, I wondered if there would be a next time and if there was, would I be part of it? Was our relationship going to survive this trip?

Hazel's voice took on a different tone. It was as if she'd flipped from angry Hazel to kind Hazel.

"Apparently, my trip's going to take most of the day. Why don't you take yourself out to Pattaya beach? You were keen to see it and it looks like I'm not going to have time. Besides, being in a taxi for a couple of hours each way should keep you out of trouble."

"You want me to go to Pattaya on my own?" I said, imagining yellow sand, blue sea and half-naked girls. This really was a change of heart on her part.

"Yeah, but call me when you get there. I want to know that you've arrived safely."

"You just want to make sure I haven't fallen asleep," I said.

"Maybe so. We've travelled over six thousand miles. There's no point in wasting the time you have here by loafing about in the hotel room."

She seemed keen that I got out and about. Who was I to complain?

BEEEP. BEEEP. BEEEP.

She'd hung up.

I stared at the phone for a few seconds. That was bizarre. Mrs Raging Angry had morphed into Miss Deeply Caring in a matter of seconds. I was being 'sent' to one of the sexiest beaches in the world, according to my guide book, by a woman who seemed to hate me when the call started. Life is a mystery, no, women are a mystery. Who cared, because this was the sort of mystery which made the world a happy place.

I was tired but my Rip Van Winkle was already up and preparing for the beach. That's not a euphemism for anything sexual, by the way. Rip Van Winkle had magic sand thrown in his face which made him sleep for a hundred years. I liked to think that when he was wakened after a century of snoozing, he said something like 'could you give me another ten minutes?', because that's how I felt every morning no matter how much sleep I've had. But not this morning, Rip was up and packing, and I wasn't far behind.

I moseyed into the bathroom where a full power shower blasted me into a world which felt a lot better than the one I'd awakened to. Wandering naked, as you do in hotel rooms, my mind turned to thoughts of sex. My fingers decided to lend the thought a helping hand when the door swung open.

"I'm so sorry," said the chambermaid. "No 'do not disturb' sign on door."

I just stared at her. It was déjà vu, except Hazel wasn't there.

Movement seemed beyond me, as if I was frozen in some sort of weird pornographic sculpture. Bugger me, it was déjà vu.

"Should I leave or would you like me to finish what you've started?" she said as she smiled at my erection.

I wasn't going to answer too quickly, after all, that's where it had all gone wrong last time, so I waited for a couple of seconds and checked my moral compass. It didn't help me at all because instead of indicating what direction I should take, it was whirling like a washing machine on a fast spin cycle. It was about as useful as an ordinary compass at the North Pole where, no matter which way you turn, it always points south. There was nothing else for it, so I lay on the bed and gestured the maid over. She laid the towels she was carrying on the bedside table and slid, on her knees, across the covers.

"Would you like me to undress?"

Most people would probably have said yes, but not me. I'd had many a fantasy about this very type of situation. There's even an acronym for it – CFNM – Clothed Female Naked Male.

"No. I like you just the way you are." CMNM – Clothed Maid Naked Me.

Forty minutes later – yes, forty minutes – she cleaned me up and then went about her business; cleaning up the room. She hadn't asked for any money, so I really wasn't sure what to do. Would she be insulted if I offered her cash? Would she be even more insulted if I didn't? I decided to leave five thousand Baht on the bedside table and let her choose whether to take it or not.

"I've finished cleaning your room, sir. Do you need anything else?"

"You missed a bit," I said, pointing at the money table.

"Sorry," she said, popping the money into the pocket at the front of her apron. "You are a very kind and generous man."

The door closed behind her. What a wonderful treat that had been.

Left alone in the room, now was clearly the time to think about Hazel and wallow in shame and guilt. Alternatively, Pattaya beach here I come. Oh I do love to be beside the seaside, oh I do love to be beside the sea.