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I had found perfection - Cambodia
by Derek Baron | Date >
2005-12-07 | Country : Cambodia | City : Phnom Penh
| Area : |
I had found perfection. Relaxing on a comfortable hammock, set on a small wooden pier that stuck out into the murky, yet somehow luring, waters of the circular Boeng Kak Lake just north of Phnom Penh. The pier was attached to the back of the small, cardboard-walled guesthouse I had chosen, and there I was, swaying in the light breeze, seeking refuge from the 110 degree temperature and passing in and out of a calm afternoon sleep.
I do not recall any dreams from these mini-naps, nor do I recall what I had done earlier in that day. All I remember is sleeping peacefully, far away from the pressures of life, far removed from all that is good, bad and ugly in the world, in my own little bubble of happiness. How long this feeling of contentment lasted I am not too sure, but I do recall exactly what snapped me out of this trance. As I swayed back and forth in my dreamy state, the fluidity of my empty thoughts was suddenly interrupted by a strange sensation I felt on my penis, almost as if someone was gently fondling it. Slightly concerned, I slowly opened my tired eyes and found a young Cambodian boy of about 14, sitting upright in the hammock next to me. Sure enough, he was fondling my penis and when I looked at him in complete shock, he simply smiled peacefully and said, “Hello.”
I removed his hand from my genitals and this boy gave a soft rejection, “You don’t like that? It is ok. I will play.”
“No, I don’t like that. I’m trying to sleep.” I replied before rolling on my side and shutting my eyes again.
Only minutes later I felt his hand attach itself to my penis yet again and I removed it with a little more force this time. “Stop.” I said.
“You don’t like?” he repeated. “No” and I pushed his hand away from its third attempt at fondling me.
Not wanting to repeat this scenario all day, I sat up and asked the kid why he chose to spend his day in this sort of manner. His English language skills were excellent and he appeared to be a bright child. His family lived next door to the guesthouse and since there was no school that day due to a holiday, he figured he would try to earn extra money for his family. He explained that he usually worked after school as well and rarely went a week without finding work. Unfortunately, his line of work involved finding foreign men at the several guesthouses in the area to fondle and be fondled by in order to earn what he termed “good money”. Most of his clients were older men but he approached me because there was nobody else around that afternoon.
As if this conversation would suddenly make me desire some midday paedophilia, this boy asked one final time, “Are you sure you don’t want to play?”
“No, thank you,” I said and laid back down for another nap. The boy, too, laid down in the hammock next to me and was forced to be content with a nap instead of earning a wage.
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