Saigon. Or the more recently termed Ho Chi Minh city. If you think Bangkok is crazy, it’s got absolutely nothing on Saigon. Saigon is Bangkok on Acid; sprawling with motor bikes, cars, cyclists.  There are very few traffic lights here – the unspoken code is that you just cross the road and close your eyes and hope for the best. It’s a great system that never fails.  Don’t close your eyes I was only joking about that part, but the traffic generally just navigate around you.

 I’m sitting by myself in a bar waiting for a date to arrive. Yes, a date, you heard right. As per usual, I’m waiting for the man. Apparently waiting for a man is universal no matter what country they are from. It’s so nice to know that men are morons across the globe – perhaps it’s stems from older days when men went to war and women just had to sit and wait for them. I think men have a misconception that we are ok with this. In case you hadn’t picked this up I’m about to lose my rag and I’m sat at the bar being subjected to listening to “unchained melody,”from the Ghost film, silently getting more worked up. I think somewhere on my forehead the word mug is written but only men can see it. A bit like dogs can only hear certain sounds we can’t.

Anyway I digress. Back to Saigon. We arrived and immediately did a cyclo tour, went to visit the war museum, and the spot where the Buddhist monk burned himself alive in protest without moving a muscle or making a sound.  It was a jam packed afternoon. Me, and my Canadian friend and the two German guys decided to rent a swanky apartment for a couple of nights, equipped with pool, gym and three bedrooms, after our tour ended. The apartment was awesome and would have been great for a party or perhaps even a gang bang. However with the German’s gammy eye and our general dampened spirit from all our long journeys’ we settled for pizza and netflix. Rock and roll. 

The next day two of my joysome foursome depart to continue their journeys. And then there were two. I couldn’t have planned this better if I had actually tried. The German and I settle down for some Netflix and watched a highly amusing German film, (but extremely dark humour,) about Adolf Hitler waking up in modern society.  Bit awkward but hilarious. He was feeling pretty sorry for himself so being the good friend that I am thought of a few ways that I could cheer him up. Should I go into my room and just return in my birthday suit? Perhaps I could slip my hand down his shorts and give his bratwurst a massage – surely that would take his mind off his ailment? So many opportunities. Instead when we decided to have a shower, he joked his was better than mine. I considered that to be an invitation so I undressed and joined him. 

He didn’t look surprised when I stepped in, but let me under the hot water, water dripping all the way down his muscular chest to his semi. I glanced down and as the water cascaded over my naked breasts  I couldn’t help but reach for it and masssage his dick gently in my hand. There’s nothing I love more than making a man hard in my hand and hearing him groan. Well there are a few things but it’s up there. He began to moan slightly as his hands wandered over my breasts, stomach and over my clit. This was the hottest shower I had in Asia so far -literally and sexually. With both of us suitably wet in every sense of the word, we towel dried and proceeded to have sex in each room, including the leather sofa, and bent over the kitchen worktop. 

You filthy minded people that’s what you wanted to happen didn’t you? Hahahaha. I’m very sorry to say but it didn’t actually happen.My imagination just ran away with me. Did you think I was going to risk catching pink eye? Well maybe I would, He would have definitely got it real good but that ship had definitely sailed. Netflix and chill was literally just chill. Such a waste of an empty apartment. Don’t be disappointed though the real goss is coming. Pun intended. 

The next day I bode farewell to my German friend, and joined my new group bus tour which is taking me all the way up Vietnam. Coming from a fairly luxury apartment to a hostel is a shock to the system. The first night I was a little miserable, I missed my Cambodian family and was feeling a bit homesick. This was real travelling in its truest sense, great to meet other people backpacking, but I’m not sure how I feel about sharing a mixed dorm, worrying about bed bugs and constantly wearing get up that makes me look like I’ve stepped out of a gypsy insane asylum. I’m too old for this shit. Thankfully I’ve made a new friend from LA who is more my age and just came from the W hotel in Bangkok so I know she’s on the same wavelength. Thank you  universe. 

A few of us went to the war museum today. I’ve been in Saigon a few days so already seen the main sights but decided to join them anyway and see a few other museums. I was just thinking that coming to the museum twice was a complete waste of time when I spied two black guys reading one of the information posts. There is a god. Me and my new American friend got chatting to the guys who also turned out to be American. Yessssss. I love an American accent. They had hired two motorbikes and when the museum shut over lunchtime offered to drive us somewhere for lunch. I have been warned not to get on motorbikes in Asia and I’ve also been warned never to accept rides from strangers. Of course, this year my New Years resolution was to do everything that scares me so I thought fuck it. My American looks like a shorter, slightly less good looking Will Smith and is ex military so he must be able to look after me. He is hot. I jumped on the back of the bike and no need to fear, I wore a helmet. Our bike didn’t seem to like my intrusion and kept dying at the traffic lights so he had to kick start it. Not a good idea in Saigon. Within a few streets we had also got separated from the other two, so pulled over at some cafe to try and get wifi. We had no idea where they were, so ordered a drink and got to know each other a bit better. He’s recently retired from the military and is my age, has big arms, beautiful chocolate brown eyes and mocha skin. I smile at him and we laugh the whole time and in my head I’m thinking I’m going to have my wicked way with him.

Having a motorbike is actually a great way to get around Saigon which is probably why there are millions of them. On the way back to meet the others I joked that men are only good for two things, the first being transportation. Justin laughed and asked what the second one was and I flirtatiously replied that you know exactly what I’m talking about. He claimed to be really good in that department. I’ll be the judge of that. So this brings me back to sitting at this burger bar waiting for my New Yorker. Not the burger. The American. My group left me after dinner and I arranged to meet him here.

He turns up an hour and 45 minutes after he said he was setting off. In fairness to him he did get lost, nearly get mugged and got caught in a downpour but I was still pretty fucked off. We chatted for a while about all sorts of topics and he kept touching my leg. He had a glint in his eye and it wasn’t long before we took selfies together and he gently kissed my neck. I turned around and kissed him on the mouth. He was surprisingly gentle. We both left the next morning so this was our chance. He is sharing a room with his friend and I’m in a dorm so we are out of luck. We hop on a cyclo (both of us- they aren’t built for it) and I sit on his lap feeling that he is hard. Closer to my hostel, we search for a hotel room for the night. The first hotel we found was absolutely disgusting with dirty floors, and hair in the sheets. The second hotel we went into though, the job was a good’un. He tells the bell boy in the lift that I’m his wife as he sips a beer from the lobby fridge. I have no idea why but he keeps speaking Spanish to the Vietnamese. Iraq must have messed him up good and proper. Once we are alone in our 35 dollar a night room with no view (literally no window) we dim the lights and start kissing. His chest is hard and his dick is harder. It’s a very nice dick. I rub it in my hand as he touches me, making me really wet and I can’t wait to put it in. He slides inside me deep and various positions later he reaches his happy spot. I didn’t but thoroughly enjoyed the experience. I have to get up at 6 am to catch my bus so I requested a wake up call at 5.15 to allow time for round 2. He is very sweet and cuddles me through the night. We reach a draw in round 2 and I orgasm on top. Happy days. Perhaps we will meet again on our travels, but he already asked when he can come and visit me in London and when I can visit him in the USA. He’s keen. I am his first experience with a white girl so he obviously just realised what he was missing in his life 😉. 

The quest continues.