A Bloodied Tapestry

And, one night, a foray into the domains of the sexual underground. What happened was very timid, if truth be told, but the first steps for a sexually recovering Catholic boy. Jeff was enticing me at the end of one of our nightly forays onto the streets to challenge the fates and convinced me to go to a “steam bath.”

One of the first things I remember about Saigon was the chatter about the steam baths. There was even one across the street from IVS that everyone, including the women, twitted about. Something about “happy ending” massages. I never paid the subject much mind as a massage in general was not a thing I ever thought of doing. And as for “happy endings,” not my thing, and judged it as not being right. But on this night, now one and half years in Vietnam, I said yes. Jeff could be persuasive. I made it clear: no “happy ending.” I said it was against my religion. I had a wonderful steam bath, followed by a great massage by a young woman fully dressed Vietnamese style. At the end of the massage, she pointed to my unaroused penis and noted in Vietnamese the word for “small,” meaning not erect (I like to think!).

Undulating hand movements indicating her intentions, but I told her no, in Vietnamese. As I got up to dress, in walked a scantily dressed young woman to entice me by gestures rather suggestive into buying a “happy ending.” I repeated I would not pay. I figured no pay no play, and I would be out of there.

She left, and then another woman tried to persuade me, and then a parade of five women, each very scantily-clad came dancing in. They flattered me, said I looked like Ho Chi Minh (I was very thin and had a beard) as a sign of respect for me. Still, I refused to pay. Not until they all ran down the hall laughing to Jeff…Jeff the whole time encouraged them not to give up on me. This must be a slow night, I was thinking. They got Jeff to pay for it, and to make it end I gave in. They came rushing in and pushed me back on table, touching me all over. My penis was responding even as I still was unsure, and then giving over. I remember Kama Sutra-like images…these women of the night did things to me never done before. I’d never been touched or touched like that before or felt such pleasure.

The oddest part of the experience is that as I orgasmed, a man ran from behind the curtain rushed out with transparent plastic bag in hand and caught my rather abundant sperm in mid-flight. Odd, I thought.

I never did pay Jeff back.