I drag my nails down his hard, tattooed arms as his fingers dig fiercely into my hips. We move completely in sync, we are both masters at this game. I dig my fingernails into his back and arch a leg over his shoulder, screaming as we complete the final stages of our dance. ‘Holy fuck’ I pant as I disentangle myself, rolling out from underneath him while artfully avoiding the wet patch. We lay panting together for a few moments and I drowsily give him a high five. Job well done. I gather my strength to climb over this monster truck of a man and walk to the open window, looking down at the tuk tuk drivers racing along the streets of Phnom Penh. What a city. What a fuck. I’ve just finished a week building houses in a village, and now I get to spend a week screwing, drinking, and exploring this incredible place. Do you know how cheap beer is here? I went out last night with the equivalent of $10 and stumbled home, well fed and with change. I love this place.
I pour myself a scotch as I reflect on the man starting to snore on the bed, holding the pillow instead of me. Mr MonsterFuck. I can’t say he is the intellectual I would have ideally liked… (I asked his opinion on current Cambodian politics and nearly poked my eyeballs out at his attempt for a response) but he is incredible in bed, with the body of an AFL player and is a far from the worst choice I’ve ever made. Also, he is going home to a different city.
I settle down into the daybed, with the bright afternoon sun filtering through the open window to tan my naked skin, ever so slightly covered in finger tip sized bruises. I smile wryly to myself as I remember my first time. I really set the scene for my life to follow, going home at 16 with this I guy I had met at a party – because he had bought me a four pack of vodka cruises. That’s love, right? We had to ask one of his friends for a condom, got chased by the police, had to sneak into his parents house, and of course he came and I didn’t. For the most part, it’s all improved from there.
