Bob was jaded. He couldn't deny it. Here he was in Bangkok, surrounded by a flesh smorgasbord of sexual possibilities and delights, and he couldn't seem to enjoy any of it.

'What is wrong with me?' he muttered aloud to nobody in particular.

'I appear to have mislaid my mojo,' Bob groaned.

A beautiful young Thai woman at a nearby table raised her head from the ubiquitous smartphone that no self-respecting young Thai would feel fully dressed without and glanced over at him with a look of haughty disdain on her pretty face that would have curdled milk.

Bob smiled and swirled his finger around his temples in the universal sign for impending insanity and pulled a gormless face. The girl registered a disgusted look in return as if he had just exposed himself or hawked and spat in her coffee.

There were undoubtedly some stuck-up bitches in Bangkok these days, Bob mused. But he forgave her this as she was a good looker.

But he couldn't help thinking back to when he first visited Thailand not too long after the good 'ol' US of A had so ignominious fled Vietnam. During those exciting long ago days, there were no stuck-up cows around, but plenty of accommodating lasses willing to offer their slender young bodies overnight for ten or fifteen dollars.

Back then, the country was still primarily an agricultural nation with very little industry and a well-defined class system, with the beloved king at the top and the aristocracy and elite close behind.

Food production, particularly rice, was the primary employment of most of the population.

Bob thought those were the magic times, bringing a broad smile. The girl saw Bob grinning to himself and prepared to move tables to one as far as possible from this crazy farang.

She was no doubt correct in her caution. Bob might well be just another crazy, old farang. Especially around the Sukhumvit area, there were plenty of nutty, old guys driven crazy by the heat, humidity and cheap rice whiskey, wandering the streets mumbling at everyone and nobody in particular or screaming at the moon in this supremely indifferent city.

Thais have a fear and aversion to the insane and tend to give nutters a wide berth, so these lost souls are often left alone despite their dubious visa status. Quite often, they ended up floating dead in mysterious circumstances in one of the many canals or klongs that bisect the city.

Bob looked around the well-appointed coffee shop close to his hotel, where he habitually stayed when in Bangkok. The clientele usually consisted of a mix of well-heeled backpackers, wealthy young Thais and single male sex tourists such as himself. The coffee was invariably excellent if fashionably expensive for the upmarket tourist area, which undoubtedly brought in the middle-income Thais. They gained invaluable brownie points from being seen in an exorbitantly priced place.

Within the incredibly complex caste system which exists in Thai society and is only fully understood by Thais, men of his ilk, i.e. sex tourists, were heaped on the very bottom rungs, slightly above beggars, street sweepers and sex workers and far below the likes of the newly emerged middle class. This new strata of Thai society boasted disposable income for the first time, which they often liked to spend in frequenting expensive Western-style places such as this, where they brushed shoulders with despised classes.

Bob belonged to another class of traveller, perhaps thought to be a twenty-first-century phenomenon but actually of a far earlier era. He was a mature international man of leisure, seeking pleasure and new experiences globally. In nineteenth-century England, monied gentlemen took themselves off for what was known as the Grand Tour. Away from the restrictive mores of Victorian society, they threw off the mantle of respectability and were frequenters brothels and other iniquitous places of adult entertainment where they were able to indulge in all kinds of activities that would get them banished from polite society if they sought there.

Following an ominous health prognosis the previous year, which offered little hope beyond maybe five years of active existence, followed by an unknowable abyss in which he might and might not disappear forever, Bob had decided to travel and seek carnal pleasures denied him so far in his life. He told his wife that he was off to see the world. She was supremely indifferent to whatever Bob did or didn't do these days. They virtually led separate lives, with her having her own life and interests different from his own. They were strangers sharing the same house.

He had become a seasoned traveller in the last eighteen months, visiting many places over three continents and enjoying the expensive favours of many beautiful women. But having arrived in South East Asia, he became jaded from excess. Even the magic little pill doesn't help a lot. Everything is good in moderation, but when you are looking to fuck two beautiful women every week, the palate becomes a little satiated, and a rest is necessary to recharge the batteries.

But, as they say, a change is as good as a rest, and Bob thought he had the ideal change, which he might recharge his batteries and recover his Mojo.

Later, after a nap and a shower, Bob left his hotel and strolled up to Sukhumvit Road, less than five minutes away. Sukhumvit was the central hub of the city's vibrant nightlife. Bob passed the Nana Entertainment Complex. Here, he found the night's entertainment the last time Bob was on the prowl. She was a cute brown girl who danced with all the enthusiasm of an arthritic eighty-year-old but had proved a little firecracker in bed. But Bob had disgraced himself, and as hard as the little brown girl tried, he had been unable to get it up, an unusual phenomenon for a man with such a healthy sex drive.

So, no bar girls for him tonight. Bob had his sights set on something different.

He crossed the busy Sukhumvit Road by one of the pedestrian bridges and turned onto Soi Seven/one, where what he wanted was located. He walked maybe a hundred metres down the Soi when he saw his destination.

The place was brightly lit and looked like one of the many private clinics in the area. The Lady who ushered him in was perhaps in her forties or fifties and was the Mamasan or girl minder. She inquired if he had been before. Bob shook his head.

Four girls entered the room and sat on a bench opposite Bob's seat—the infamous line-up where the girls lined up for the customer to make his selection. Three of the girls were okay but nothing special, but the fourth girl was quite pretty, so it was no contest, and Bob chose her. The unlucky three girls dispersed, and Bob's choice took him by the hand and walked him to a desk where he paid his one thousand baht entrance fee. Then, the girl collected soap and towels from another desk before leading him up a steep, rickety flight of wooden stairs to a small room on the first floor.

A chair, walk-in shower, separate basin, hot and cold mixer taps, and little else were within the room. The chair was large, black and comfortable looking. It reminded Bob of the chair on Mastermind, the British quiz show. It looked well used, and strategically placed towels possibly concealed scars and stains of former encounters.

The girl, whose name was Gok, bid him undress, which he quickly did, hanging his clothes on hooks on the door. She then beckoned him over to the basin, where she began a thorough willy washing, soaping, massaging and finally rinsing his genitals until they were scrupulously clean. He found the procedure intensely erotic and a vital part of the overall package.

The hygiene part done; Bob sat in the big black chair. He joked that he half expected John Humphreys to appear to ask him questions on his specialist subject, but of course, the joke was lost on Gok, who now kneeled in front of him. Taking his, by now fully attentive, cock into her mouth, she began to suck him off. She was very good at her job, and Bob wondered how many cocks she blew in a day or a week, or a year. An awful lot, he surmised.

Bob reached down and squeezed her little breasts until her nipples grew hard to the touch. He would have liked to have fingered her pussy too, but unfortunately, he was unable to reach in his present position.

Bob wasn't too concerned as the oral sex was good, and the unusual circumstances of the situation appeared to have reawakened his libido. He was thoroughly enjoying the experience.

Perhaps enjoying it too much as, after a few minutes of intense pleasure offered by Gok's soft mouth, he felt the sperm in his balls surge up through his penis and into her waiting mouth. Bob found that under the expert ministrations of this young woman he was able to prolong his pleasure for quite a bit more than usual. Gok held his cock in her mouth until the last drop of come had drained from Bob's dick. Only then did she go to the bathroom to discreetly spit.

Bob was happy again. He felt his libido yawn, stretch and awaken.

Bob could have sworn he saw Mojo dash from the crowds and jump into his pocket on his way out. Good boy, Mojo.