The Israeli in Bangkok

Written by awayandgay

He pursed his lips to the side, letting a smooth whispery jet of smoke escape from his mouth. His eyes were on me as he took another drag of the hookah, blew a couple of perfectly formed Os, and handed over the ornate gold pipe. I watched as they hung in the air, dissipate, his face reemerging. Appreciating his thick black curls, round brown eyes and tanned skin – he was actually everything his grindr profile described him as. Score. I couldn’t tell whether the Om necklace draped in between his clavicles held meaning or was just another hippy accessory.

He was a broad, built, hippy Israeli. Though hippy in a cool, intriguing, cant-quite-place-your-finger on it way rather than the aloof type. He was into yoga and meditation, which i found kind of hot. He had a nice boxy build, not lean and long like you’d normally associate with guys into yoga. His biceps, my god his biceps, jutting out like giant branches from his vest. They got me like crazy. He was definitely not one of those rowdy, wankery israelis that travel in massive groups that you so often find in india.

From Israel, he journeyed through the Middle East, Central, South Asia, and finally made it to South East Asia. He’s been on the road for a year and a half, running a business back home (this surprised me), with a couple of stops back every so often. His lifestyle, like so many people you meet on the road – I loved, and envied. To me, he was living the dream.

Comparing his epic travels with my banal annual couple of months travelling in between uni and work was kind of lame. But then I was like “Look I’m 22, he’s 29 so it’s okay. By the time I’m that age I’ll have that mysterious allure, have massive arms, be in a state of perpetual travel (i wish), and will be a fucking pro at doing oh so sensual Os by then…” Hmm.

So after chatting for a while, with him winning me over with his story of getting a leech stuck to his ball after swimming at a lake in pokhara, we moved onto the topic of where to “hang out” after as we put it. We struggled not to make it obvious to other patrons who were in close proximity, what we were discussing, with withheld laughter ensuing. We weighed up the options. A hotel – private but pricy, an alleyway – free but seedy, a tuktuk – fucking awesome and would make for a story, but questionable if it could even happen, or one of our dorms – convenient but a little risky. And to be honest, it was probably that risk that propelled us to that option. No… actually, I’m pretty sure it was the fact that we were both incredibly cheap backpackers.

We’re back at mine. With fingers crossed we walked into the dorm room to find darkness and a silhouette of sleepers. The only lights were those from people charging shit. Fans groaned purposefully overhead. This was surprisingly conducive.

I sunk into bed, he climbed on top, his rough hands wandering at my sides. We pulled the covers over us. His bristle pleasant against my skin, his breath, slightly laced with tobacco and strangely enticing. I noticed the play of his muscles under his skin as he moved. It was difficult, or maybe different is a more fitting word, having our natural expressions restricted. Though there was an exciting element to it, practicing restraint; with intimacy conveyed through firm hands, hard bodies, and interlocked fingers. For a while I was truly lost in the moment, unaware of my surroundings, the centre of my attention – him.

Adrift on post hook up euphoria, languor, and that all too familiar vague sense of holy-shit-what-did-I-just-do; i splayed out on the bed. He stayed and laid with me for a while. I noticed now how the sheets were damp with sweat. He kissed me, then felt around for his jocks, got dressed and left.

And there we go, another smoky, satisfying night in Bangkok post break up. Though to me, he didn’t just represent another quick fix, another guy I can self gratuitously write about. He was someone that reflected elements that I envied and wanted. It was more than just his inherent attractiveness and allure… but his sense of travel, his lifestyle: his freedom.

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