Seymour Totti’s Foreign Policy

“What are you going to Singapore for?” I was asked, “It’s totally boring, even chewing gum is banned. How much fun do you think you can have there?”

“Lots.” I said

It’s true, chewing gum is banned. Singing ‘Puff the Magic Dragon’ is forbidden, at least in public, certain other types of felony will get you an official rattan spanking and drug trafficking carries a mandatory death sentence.

It doesn’t sound like a fun place but, having said that, none of the above mentioned misdemeanours hold any interest for me anyway.

What does interest me is the fact that in the small city state of just 4 million people there is a wide range of some of the best restaurants you could hope to feed in, four excellent micro-breweries (a fifth is just being built) and prostitution is legal. I’ll repeat that; prostitution is legal.

Now eating, drinking and fucking are three of my favourite hobbies so it seems to me that a fair amount of fun can indeed be had there.

Ladies of the night are supposed carry a yellow health card and ply their trade in designated zones such as Geylang and Deskar Road. But they have a terrible sense of geography and it’s quite common to find them streetwalking along the Tanglin end of Orchard Road and at the bars and discos of Orchard Towers. Otherwise known as The Four Floors of Whores.

By day it looks rather like a low rent shopping mall and there are in fact a number of shops and businesses operating there. There are two buildings connected by a 1st floor footbridge. Most of the action takes place in the front building where there are about a dozen bars and discos.

They all spring to life at about 8.30-9.00pm. You can find girls from all over Asia though Thai and Malaysian are the most numerous. You’ll also find a generous sprinkling of Thai ladyboys.

For those that just can’t wait there are a number of massage parlours that will help to soothe a nagging erection.

I lay back on the white towel and opened my eyes, “And where are you from?” I asked. She climbed across me, kissed my nose and gently closed my eyes again with her fingertips. “Malaysia”, she whispered, as her hot tight Malaysian pussy wrapped itself around me.

“Seventy dollah - la”, she said.

“Seventy dollars and you love me long time?”, I queried.

“No la, seventy dollah I fuck you and go home. You want all night pay more money la.” The Singaporeans can be so business like at times. Except she wasn’t Singaporean. I’m not sure where she was from, she wouldn’t say. She wasn’t into idle banter of any kind really, she just wanted to know if the deal had been struck. I nodded the affirmative.

Most people think Singapore is an uptight and no fun kind of place. In some ways it is, even chewing gum is illegal, but It’s the only place I know where you can hop into a taxi and say something like “Take me to the Four Floors of Whores please, driver”. And he’ll take you there without batting an eyelid.

We’d just left and come back to my hotel. She stripped off and stepped into the shower, her body was small and firm. She beckoned me to join her. Our soapy bodies slithered together as we washed each other. “Mongolia?”, I guessed. I thought I caught a glimmer of a smile but she squeezed my dick and put a soapy hand over my mouth. Then she dropped to her knees and put my dick in her mouth.

She had a mouthfull of hot water and I thought I was going to come right away but she wouldn’t let me. We dried and continued on the bed, wriggling beneath me, bending in front of me and straddling me. Several times she brought me almost to climax but she made me wait each time untill finally I could hold it no longer and I just exploded. I believe she did too.

We held each other tight and dozed off for half an hour. Then we had another quickie and she was ready to leave. “See, I give you good service la, but I go now.” It was about the first thing she said since we’d left the four floors.

Don’t forget to check out my porn collections at Asian Floozie

The new double decker Airbus A380 is now winging passengers between Singapore and Sydney. For those with the inclination and enough cash to spare there are super first class cabins complete with double bed, a telly, champers and a liberal sprinkling of pink rose petals. But sex is not allowed.

According to Stephen Forshaw, an official at Singapore airlines “There are things that are acceptable on an aircraft and things that aren’t, and the rules for behaviour in our double beds are the same ones that apply throughout the aircraft.”

What a prude, eh? You’d think that with a ticket price of over US$20,000 for a private room you’d at least be allowed to have a shag but Forshaw goes on to say; “If couples used our double beds to engage in inappropriate activity, we would politely ask them to desist.”

Or what?, he’ll throw them off the plane? But how would they know? Are the trolly dollies instructed to stick their heads round the door every fifteen minutes to check?

“Hey, are you two fucking?”

“Er, no miss, we just having a good night hug”

“Alright so lift the covers up let me see”

I tend to think it’s inappropriate too, in so far as getting into the mile high club is concerned. Let’s face it, anyone can get their end away in a private suite but the real fun is squeezing it in on row 39, seats D and E and waiting for turbulence. Now that is kudos that money can’t buy.