Arriving in Phnom Penh and knowing that the Silver Pagoda, National Museum, Wat Phnom, Tuol Sleng Museum, and Killing Fields are the highlights and with my having visited the latter two on a prior and only other visit, the decision was easy what to do first — go to Martini Pub! Finding Martini Pub was both difficult and easy. That night I hopped on a motorbike taxi in front of my guesthouse, meaning I was dealing with guys knowing where things are, and was at Martini Pub in little more than minutes.
Turns out that Martini Pub had moved and my earlier man was looking for it at the old address and helpful Cambodians had been calling the wrong phone number. This could remind you of the definition of an agnostic — a gutless atheist. She was hot. But then one of the whores, looking rather like a real slut, stands by my table, glances down at me and sits down. During our chatting, I ask her what the hell that was on her biceps. To confirm this, not that I asked her to, she raises her skirt to show me some dainty white thongs and pulls them to the side showing me her goods.
My hand well confirmed she had a naturally hairless and small pussy. Her friskiness attracted the attention of a lady matron working there who eyeballed her. And a security guard was all of a sudden posted adjacent to us.
She was a real stuck record. I asked why she wanted to go out with me knowing why of course , and she responded she liked to fxxx. Judging from her pussy in an extreme stage of wetness, there could be a little truth in that. No way was I going out with that slut, particularly after then running my hands down inside the back of her panties toward her naughtier orifice and feeling something hard projecting out — God — maybe a fxxxing wart.
My hand was out of there and fast. I suspected she was Vietnamese and spoke Vietnamese to her. And she wanted me thinking she was a good girl studying English who was out of money. Yes, she was on drugs, she responded.
