The Girl From Malaysia in Singapore

The Girl From Malaysia in Singapore

Arriving in Geylang my thoughts drifted towards the urban tales of the Girl From Malaysia in Singapore.  I wanted to get a drink before heading home. It was close to midnight when I found my way into the Only One Music bar. The place was empty, save for me and the bartender, who looked as old as the neighbourhood she lived in — if not older.  This was unusual for the red light hot spot.  Obviously CoVid has had something to do with that.

Nervous to be alone but excited for some well deserved R&R, I asked her what she had on tap today, but no answer came from her cherry-painted lips; nothing except a sense of vacancy behind those eyes that seemed perpetually distant from their surroundings. She didn’t rush to take my order either; instead enjoying whatever it was that took up all of her attention behind the bar’s frosted glass walls whilst absently pouring my beer.

I could tell she wasn’t listening to me, even though I was standing right in front of her, she was on auto pilot, so I just went on my way to  one of the few tables in the bar.

Once my drink was there and the bartender had disappeared into the back of the bar again, I sat there pondering what had just happened. It felt like time had suddenly stopped while my mind wandered around in no particular direction. From what I’ve heard this place is usually full at this time on a Saturday night, but tonight it seemed deserted as if everyone were scared off.  A scene from the twilight zone entered my head.

On top of that she seemed almost inhuman; something from a horror movie that used to scare me when I was little. I wondered why she looked the way she did, and what kind of a place was this anyway.

At first I thought this whole place would have been done up with white or neon lights, but it seemed like the only illumination came from some kind of neon light behind the bar. It left a lot to be desired as far as ambience was concerned. The decor looked like it was straight out of an 80’s B-movie too. Everything seemed so fake and grimy, except for her red lipstick which really stood out in that light.


The whole place seemed to be out of a horror movie, especially when it was so empty. It was then that I started to get a little nervous, looking at the door behind me and my drink. I really wanted to just leave and I thought that if the longer I did stay the possibility that maybe she might say something unnerved me.  I would just wait another few minutes.

To my surprise she did come back, but still no words were exchanged between us; only another full bottle of beer which she plonked on the table in front of me, as if too heavy to hold any longer. It fell down on the table with a loud thud, spilling a bit of its contents over the table’s edge, and onto my pants leg.

With a mouth full of beer, I could barely say “Thank you”.

She seemed blasé about the whole thing and just walked away without even getting me a napkin to clean my pants off or apologizing.

I didn’t know what to do at this point, so I just sat there contemplating whether or not I should stay for the second beer. It was a decision made for me when she came back with a stack of plates in her time-worn hands. She put them on the bar and then went off back into the back room again. I heard a door slam, as if hitting the wall behind it.

By this point I was starting to get really nervous, so nervous that I was having a hard time making my hands hold onto my beer bottle, they were trembling. Before long I had drunk the second beer dry, but no one came out of the back room to clear the dishes off of the bar or bill me for the second beer.

It seemed like an eternity had passed and then finally she came out again; glasses hanging down on her face with a blank look in her face, as she reached to get another beer for me. Like a scene from groundhog day the same scene played, but time she didn’t seem as annoyed about spilling it on me as before, probably because my pants were already damp from the last one.


It was then that I saw her — she was beautiful – walking in through the front door! All else forgotten, I finally managed to get a hold of myself again. She actually looked like a normal person who just happened to be in this place. Her face even seemed kind, but without a doubt I knew what she was.  This was geylang, of course. That’s when the bar lights came on, and it wasn’t the neon behind the bar anymore either; it was hard white light from the neon magnetic strip lighting overhead.

With those thoughts in my mind her eyes opened wide and her mouth dropped open into an unfathomable “oh”.

It took me a moment to realize it too and then I looked down at myself and realized that my pants were soaked by the beers that had spilled over them earlier.  The truth of the matter was that I had gotten so drunk I was wondering if the 3 beers I had were not laced with something.   I didn’t know why I was here anymore. The only thing I knew was that this girl, who looked like she couldn’t have been older than 17 at most, was amazingly hot. That’s when it hit me, and my face flushed red — she had noticed.

I got up embarrassed, looking down at my soaking trousers.  She lowered her head looking away from me and then back again before speaking up in a voice like velvet

“You don’t have to leave — let me get you a dry pair of pants so you can stay until the bar closes.”

“Ok,” I replied.

But then my thoughts returned to what had just happened; the look on her face when she opened her mouth to speak those words. I realized that she wasn’t just a regular waitress; she was one of the Malaysia girls in Singapore I had heard about.  Since being told what they could do I had been dreaming about meeting one and now here I was, drunk, pants wet, with her feeling sorry for me.  This was not how it was supposed to happen.

When she came back I could feel my cock stirring in my pants, from the anticipation of what might happen next, my embarrassment being taken over by desire. Then, to my surprise, she was holding not a pair of pants, but a pair of her own G-String panties — pink panties with little orange flowers on them.

“I’ve got nothing else to give you,” she said with sarcasm in her voice, a pout on her lips and disappointment in her eyes.  ‘And  now I have got no panties on.’

“Oh no! They’re ok — don’t worry about it. I will keep  my pants on.  Thank you though,” I said as I handed her the panties back and she took them with a smile.

A moment later she had returned with another beer and some folded up paper towels from the bar’s counter. She handed me a couple.

“Clean yourself up.  Make yourself look respectable if you are going to be with me.”

There was not much to clean aside from the beer on my pants as I walked to the public toilet.   I found a hand dryer in the bathroom and though feeling a bit like a contortionist after a few minutes managed to dry my pants to a respectable condition.


I returned back into the bar again but she was not there.  A few minutes later she came from the back room again with another pair of pink panties that didn’t look quite as thin as the one before. Rather than saying anything, she simply knelt down and slipped them over my pants; there was no need for further explanation.  I reckon she knew I had a been living a secret world of crossdressing.

She then went back into the back room again and a short time later came out with a  female white business shirt.
She laid it out over the bar counter. Without saying a word she picked it up and slipped it over my head, buttoning it up,

There I was in a public bar in geylang with my dream girl from Malaysia wearing girls panties and a womans business shirt.  All I could do was say, “Thank you,”

She didn’t event look up at me again, as if to say “No you don’t.”  And once again left the bar.  My erection was throbbing hard against my pants as I looked over at the mirror behind the bar.  What would me work colleagues think of me now.  A cross dressing executive for fucks sake…..  I stood there patiently as the bar started to fill with other customers.  They glanced over, but none of them seemed surprised.

When she finally came out from the back room again I noticed that she was wearing a very short plaid skirt, with ruffled edges on each side – almost like a school girl would wear. It made her legs look long and slender, with lovely curves that were clearly being exaggerated by her high heels.

When she reached for a pair of glasses that were on the bar I couldn’t help but ask, “Are you a foreign exchange student?”   As these words were uttered I know how lame and ridiculous they sounded.

She just looked up at me and gave me a smirk. “I can be whatever you want” she said with a smile.

With that she pulled me from the bar and led me through the back door of the bar.  I now realised that there were many private cubicles obviously for the use of Singapore Escorts.  She led me towards one and I knew that finally my erotic fantasies would finally be filled with a girl from Malaysia.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *