The Beginning from the Screen
Chapter 1: The Beginning from the Screen
I was scrolling through Facebook late one night. My wife was asleep beside me, and I stumbled upon the profile of a massage parlor girl named "Nok," someone I’d visited a month ago and gotten her Facebook from. I reminisced about her fiery touch, but then my eyes caught something else—a friend of hers named "Chompoo." Her profile picture showed a petite woman with golden hair, a model-like figure, wearing a tight, short dress, posing in front of a mirror. Her sharp features and captivating eyes stopped me in my tracks.
Out of curiosity, I sent her a friend request, not expecting much. When she accepted, I messaged her right away: "Hi, what’s your name?" She replied, "Chompoo. And you?" Her tone in text felt friendly, so I kept the conversation going. She told me she was 34, had a grown kid, and had been separated from her husband for a while. I was upfront about having a family; she laughed in the chat, saying, "No problem, we can still talk."
From then on, we chatted every day. Small talk turned into playful teasing. I got excited every time her name popped up. She’d send me photos sometimes—her in a spaghetti strap top, standing in front of a mirror, golden hair cascading down, her petite yet curvy figure on full display. I’d tease her, "With a body like that, how do you stay single?" She shot back, "Well, someone’s got to flirt with me first, right?" I grinned at the screen, thinking I had to meet her in person.
Chapter 1: The Beginning from the Screen
I was scrolling through Facebook late one night. My wife was asleep beside me, and I stumbled upon the profile of a massage parlor girl named "Nok," someone I’d visited a month ago and gotten her Facebook from. I reminisced about her fiery touch, but then my eyes caught something else—a friend of hers named "Chompoo." Her profile picture showed a petite woman with golden hair, a model-like figure, wearing a tight, short dress, posing in front of a mirror. Her sharp features and captivating eyes stopped me in my tracks.
Out of curiosity, I sent her a friend request, not expecting much. When she accepted, I messaged her right away: "Hi, what’s your name?" She replied, "Chompoo. And you?" Her tone in text felt friendly, so I kept the conversation going. She told me she was 34, had a grown kid, and had been separated from her husband for a while. I was upfront about having a family; she laughed in the chat, saying, "No problem, we can still talk."
From then on, we chatted every day. Small talk turned into playful teasing. I got excited every time her name popped up. She’d send me photos sometimes—her in a spaghetti strap top, standing in front of a mirror, golden hair cascading down, her petite yet curvy figure on full display. I’d tease her, "With a body like that, how do you stay single?" She shot back, "Well, someone’s got to flirt with me first, right?" I grinned at the screen, thinking I had to meet her in person.
