7. On the Confines of the Past and Present

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"Curt Urbanozo pictures"
Index:
An American with a PhD
Bastion de San Andres
A bunch of four
A Roving Salesman
An Architecture graduate who works as a druggist
A guy from Cebu
He makes Senator Enrile laugh
A male hairdresser

Until now, I still summon the memory of a certain outsider in the midst of strangers. Someone who was from the USA got somehow involved with me after we met in this section where provincial buses used to pull over almost all days then. Lanky and somewhat noticeable as he was a foreigner, he began our conversation right away after we recognized each other’s presence. Somehow uncertain with myself whether to proceed with the conversation, I felt the attraction was mainly due to a certain kind of outstanding difference that I was always yearning for from those I get to encounter in the area. I’ve read somewhere these people just get to hang you down for fun purposes. Still, I attempted to overcome the stereotype, an idea, which I didn’t, really understand completely before.

“How do I get in touch with you?” as he asked me in order for us to focus more with the then ongoing conversation.

He was particularly charming that evening. I remember we eventually settled down in his unit at one of those apartment buildings in Remedios where we did virtually all at the balcony with the CCP as a lucid backdrop. A performance had then been ongoing, as the CCP fountains were on and lighted brightly enough from that distance. Roxas Boulevard looked very cosmopolitan, with the volume of vehicles passing, and the big yet dark expanse of water at the other side. The apartment unit was tastefully designed, sparsely decorated, with much available space for someone who is solo-living, and with us naked outside with Ms Dietrich singing a strange German song in the background.

I later learned he was from the US Navy. I asked if he was a writer, but he replied that only got to write for his dissertation material. With a Ph.D. in Literature from a university in the US (he taught in De La Salle University, but he found his students to be “generally below average”), he had lived for a long while in Morocco, where he had quite a collection of art objects that he sold when he decided to leave and go someplace to proceed with his lifestyle. He mentioned that he often goes back and forth from Hongkong and the Philippines mainly to check on his stockmarket investments. I didn’t know how exactly to deal with him, as he was rather unassuming. Looking back, he could have provided me the means to get away from my limiting background. Among several possibilities, I could have gone out of my way to simply make good use of myself in taking advantage of his wealth. But of course, he was far more wiser than myself. He mentioned about his recent past lover whom he thought was merely taking advantage of his “wealth” - this could be easily relative, though.

I recall that we never really got far with whatever we have attempted to work on due mainly to personal differences in beliefs towards our respective families, handling my own money, political outlook, places to visit as well as general lifestyle. More meetings between us followed. I dreaded about him picking me up from my work in Makati, but he still insisted. My lady officemate, who was rather sophisticated herself on worldly setups like this (I later learned from another source that she had gone of her way, more than once, to pick up from the road her type-of-a guy using her personal car, if she had strongly felt the urge to engage in casual sex), acted somewhat suspicious about my ongoing meetings with him. Of all places, we even had to be meeting somewhere in Greenbelt, just in front of National Bookstore. I recall that he wanted us to be going out on dates. Yet, I simply didn’t have that much drive nor interest in pursuing something far more long term.

Somehow I felt the presence of the soul yet I was in disbelief that he would fall seriously for me, considering that we just met each other in the Walls (a notion which even todate has prevented me from considering serious options from certainly interesting and startling individuals).

The times then were heating on the issue whether the Americans should be kicked out of the Bases in Central Luzon or just maintain the status quo then (I agree with the earlier choice). We had arguments on these related matters while we were in bed. In essence, I just couldn’t contend with (I was younger then) a foreigner who was subtlety mercurial in his views to whatever stand I had then on life in general. He was even nudging me to keep myself away from financially supporting my family, an unusual idea in the usual Philippine extended family support system which, by the way, is one reason why our social system is still intact todate, inspite of the intrusions through the decades. I felt he just couldn’t even stand someone who kept on arguing against his beliefs, particularly someone imposing like me who hails from the Third World.

In the end, he got extremely disappointed with me. He disliked the fact that I had to entice him into seriously getting again in another relationship, which I never thought of telling him anyway. He was far, far older than me and he despised my playing naïve yet I felt sophisticated enough in dealing with him. Remarkably, I remember that we practically had the same size - it actually felt weird holding him, I thought I was holding mine - yet I never told him about this fact.

He shut the door strongly at the last time I went to his apartment. Acting rather cold and indifferent, he got extremely mad at me, for I had to courage to dump him, when I felt like doing it the previous night. Today, I was thinking if I could still take my chances again (he must have thought it over). Well, obviously, I was wrong.

“Why do you have to come back? I should have not allowed myself to open up again, you simply hurt me,” as I remember him blurting hurt emotions in one of our last meets. By this time, I have learned to be more guarded with my emotions. Much as I’d like to pursue something long term with him, I felt, I won’t be able to stand the whole thing out, I have not been that prepared yet (so I believe).
* * * * * * *

Recently, the walking areas on top of the Walls facing the Manila Bulletin’s Offices along Muralla St served as backdrop to an array of adventures whenever three or more men get bodily together. I had been tired by then due to walking back and forth on the Walls as I had been out since the last evening from a drinking session with some fellows. This was simply one of those nights when there were not that many options moving around. That portion of the Walls renders a vast stage for anything that can be executed with practically the wide horizon of playful clouds above anyone else. From where one stands, one can see the Puerta Real at a very near distance. I guess they call the place Bastion de San Andres. There stands an unusual arsenal like building built in the space hidden by the Walls, with complete tiled roofing, wooden heavy doors, with deep crevices on its three sides that cautiously give one an eerie plunging feeling. It could actually be developed into a very lovely garden if vines, blooming wild flowers, scented blossoms are placed according to a peculiar pattern among those rocky walls.

Recently, some small minded developer has started building some structures in this area near the Puerta Real and the Bastion de San Andres, the portion of the Walls fronting Manila Bulletin Publishing Offices. The Philippine Daily Inquirer has reported that these are supposed to be used as low cost housing projects, if I recall it correctly. Should we be bothered by such recent developments? Yet, I just couldn’t figure out how these can even meet the needs of those poverty stricken families? I mean, perhaps, they wanted to make more appropriate use of available space for the poverty alleviation programs of the Estrada Administration. I guess, they’re thinking of making the whole place more livable as it used to be during the Spanish times. Or perhaps, they’re making the housing spaces for the squatters who are still living in some streets inside Intramuros. I can just imagine how this can even provide for at least a semblance of normalcy in the Walls. Recently, I went in the area one rainy afternoon. Practically nobody was in the area, except for some uninteresting fellows who might just be around in the area to ponder on some past moments in their respective lives. Some have taken the task to do some fishing at the ponds below the Walls. I could see that they were harvesting some quite number of kilos of fishes, mostly tilapia. The greens are in such terrific hues, and the soft rain has started to drizzle. I can see the mountains from Rizal province from the distance. I was delighted to have seen so many swiftlets hovering in a corner of the Walls along Burgos Street leading towards the Manila Hotel. I thought, I couldn’t be able to make it with someone, as I thought no one was particularly interesting. I told myself, days like this happen, as I proceeded to walk. Until I reached Bastion de San Andres, where I saw some enclosures signaling “no trespassing allowed” to any intruders. I saw the state of construction that was taking place and I attempted to cross over. A guard stopped from continuing to do so, as he used his whistle at me. I decided this was not a good day, indeed to proceed with what I have in mind. As I persisted to cruise by walking along the path below the Walls inside, I met someone. He was just taking his chances as he sighted me from a distance. I thought he was okay, but he wanted something more swiftly, just like me doing it with him there and then, in full view of those construction men in a site near Letran. I just smiled and moved on.
* * * * * * *

I heard mass one Sunday morning in the Cathedral. This time, I couldn’t recall if this has been one of those Sunday mornings when I found myself cruising in the Walls. Perhaps, I must have decided to start cruising at the Walls at an early morning hour, just like the rest in the pack.

At this point in time, I have garnered many similar experiences when I found myself hearing the mass, either in San Agustin, or at the Manila Cathedral. I must have gone out of a cheap motel recently. I must have spent some few hours with someone who just wanted himself to be fucked as I reminded him of his former lover who worked in Pizza Hut in Baclaran. I felt amused by it all. Or this Sunday could have been one of those in the past when I just have spent the previous night without sleeping. I felt ridiculous and I thought of myself evolving into the imagined sick person that I could easily be, without being completely aware of the situation. Yet, I seek more engagements after this mass, as I promised myself, I’d be in search for more.

The mass in the Church has been always one of the simplest celebrations I’ve attended so far in memory. Yet, there was something about its stark simplicity that easily has caught me offguard away from my usual defenses. Guilt feelings slowly crept into being. I saw the poor children in rags offering flowers that they could have gathered in the Walls, themselves. San Agustin’s altar, with its pure red velvety cloth as a background of the Crucified Christ on the Cross, somehow has always made me nudge a bit from the center of my own self. I needed to confront myself, and work on seething conscience that hounds me every now and then. Some of the masses I’ve attended here in Intramuros featured some variety of a wedding in combination with the mass. I felt angry, at my failure to get into a marriage myself. But straights themselves feel apprehensive about the prospects of their own respective marriages, as well. I have my own set of style of departure from this usual setup, as I view the wedding ceremony. At the end, I felt happier, I have watched another wedding. I don’t want to engage myself in empty intellectual discussions of the same sort that attempts to explain why I am into these types of activities. Indeed, my attendance in the Church almost always makes me get into this type of brooding. There were times, I just simply have observed myself weeping, just alone by myself amidst the small crowd that characterize Sunday masses in Intramuros churches.

It was daybreak then, a Sunday actually when many usually decide to take a walk along the Walls. Most have reasons other than to cruise, I suppose. Some just get there to be with others who have similar interests and longings. Some go there merely to watch. The rest may just get there to toil with their bodies by just walking, running, or perhaps angling for fishes that live in the man made lagoons dotting the golf course down the Walls. In fact, there are those who are just around to gather their friends to get into a funny version of a beauty contest – where one gets to see beautiful looking adolescent men participate in a spoof of the typical variety.

I was amidst these individuals who were into a variety of reasons why they were around the area. Up until I met two couples who were largely bounded with each other because of their strong looking and domineering presence, when I finally realized I was already becoming deficient in action. I instantly got attracted to the bunch. Praise God, someone from the group talked to me immediately after I approached them to take a better look on what’s happening. The others in the area were rather making curious glances at what they’re doing. They just couldn’t help but touch each other without restraint whatsoever. I felt, however, like a violating outsider. The ongoing free wheeling conversation dealt on how they behave when they’re within the usual borders of their daily respective lives. I soon realized they must have met each other a few hours earlier. And then, one even pointed out the prevalence of the stereotype from a certain province in the South. He, then shifted, to his unexpressed fear which his colleagues may have eventually affirmed by the way they treat him on how he was handling his fear of his inner desires. He’s into public engineering works, as he shyly informed us then. Someone commented a stupid remark for all to hear; not exactly to express any similarity of a sympathetic concerns whatsoever. He then pointed out that there are really many like us around. Too many, they abound the perimeters and beyond the Walls. When pressed for some details, he nonchalantly told us about his previous work as a callboy. Spending more than two years as a commercial sex worker to the clients of Club 690 (he told us, the place used to be the place to be when one’s looking for fun and service way back in the mid 70s up to the late 80s then), he easily had interesting partners. There was even one Major from the military with whom he had spent more than three years in a relationship.

“Gusto ko yung hindi maarte. Basta ba nagkakaintindihan kami ng gusto namin sa isa’t isa, tuloy tuloy na kami. Yun bang hawakan ko lang ang braso, alam na nya. Wala nga kaming pinaguusapan tungkol sa kabadingan. Ewan ko nga ba? Basta ba, okay sa kanya, okay rin sa akin. Nagtagal kami nang isang iyon, ibinahay nya ako for more than two years, nagselos lang kasi dahil sa nadiskubre nyang mga tumatawag sa akin” ("I want someone who's got no qualms. As long as we know, and agree on what we want from each other, we'll pursue what's on hand. Example: I'll just his arms, he'll know what I want. We wouldn't talk about being gay. I don't know why? As long as it's OK with him, it's gonna be the same with me. We lasted as lovers for some time; he asked me to live with him for over two years...he just got so jealous when he discovered some guys had been calling me on the phone").

The succeeding details I heard sounded both hilarious and sad at the same time as they brought forward certain real concerns on the variations of the kind of lifestyle we similarly lead. Yet amidst all these, I sensed the kind of liberation from the repression they were enduring while in the middle of that entrapped period of time in the Walls. Soon, one couple was engaged in very wet kissing.

Nevertheless, the ensuing conversation continued to flow to all directions. I soon got to learn that the silent fellow is a Muslim, and that he works with a government agency that deals with the cultural minorities. He seemingly just didn’t want to talk. I just coached him to answer either in the affirmative or the negative. Initially, I just really wanted to know whether he was Muslim or not. I was aware I was threading on volatile grounds that time. The attraction I had towards this man who silently confirmed that he’s a Muslim became stronger as I saw him kissed his lover for the moment on the lips.

The other couple followed. Soon the first couple stopped for a while, and one of them motioned me to make it with one of those three or more who were hovering around them. I just resisted the idea, I never felt any attraction whatsoever towards any of those who were then around and just merely watching. He was then being fondled by one of those who were fluttering down us. One couldn’t help but be somewhat startled by the physical dimensions he possessed as he displayed himself amply to us, considering his small yet well framed built. Soon the scene become sweltering in the events that followed. They kept on kissing and the other couple before long followed – I was stuck into just viewing. I decided not to participate actually, I felt bad I couldn’t really engage as I just wanted to make it with the man who told me he’s a Muslim. Nevertheless, a chance soon showed up as his lover was then being worked on by one of those who persevered to participate in the whole scene. I got to talk for while with this Muslim as I caressed his nipples and we suddenly kissed each other. His mouth savored like healthy herbs and spices. Meanwhile, the other couple just followed what the first couple was accomplishing. Every now and then, we had to freeze the whole scene. Some cruisers still persevered in approaching our group. But soon they moved out after they recognized that they’re not invited in the inner circle, and we just carried through with the whole spectacle. They could view us from a safe distance, anyway. After a while we paused and decided we had to move to a more secure corner as I noticed all the bright white clouds hovering around us.

“May naninilip ("There's a peeping tom up there"),” as one pointed to the wide glass windows of the Manila Bulletin Offices at the other side of the section of the Walls. I actually couldn’t discern who were those keeping keen eyes on us from that distance. But I figured out that those construction workers, or some security personnel got interested at what we’re doing with our selves, physically.

“Nakikita mo yung bintanang iyon. Di ba may tao? ("Look at that window. I see someone in there.")” as I soon discerned a brown human face seemingly gazing at us.

Pausing for a while, we soon realized that nothing actually will stop these peeping toms from watching us. In addition, the sun by then got more scorching in its heat above our heads. Nevertheless, we had to make certain adjustments with the arrangements of our bodies every now and then.

The first couple then decided that they couldn’t control themselves anymore. Parting away with their pants to further provide space for each other’s closer examination, they continued to kiss and lick each other. With the sight on hand, I helped myself as well. One of them leaned over the side of the wall covering at least half his body, and he was as if discerning those figures who were watching from the windows of the building on the other side. Safely hidden from that side and directly seating down him was his partner, who was then busy in actively outfitting him what he sought for at the Walls. On the side, the other couple lied down in newspaper matting, as they provided each other full comforting hugs, kisses, and tight bodily search and hone outs. In a few moments, the five of us went on a binge of staving off our passionate cravings.

I recall meeting the same characters in the succeeding cruises that I did in the area. This process has been endlessly repeated practically everytime I am in the area. This never fails to amuse me to the extent that I realize that it’s actually a crowded place after all, even if there’s so much space surrounding us in the darkness. Basically, we just turn to each other to acknowledge each other’s presence in the darkness. A glance will actually do. Some smile back if I smile at first. Some are surprised. Most will try to ignore me. Some even will dare go towards different paths, as if they could actually go away. Anyway, everybody’s misguided in the area in the first place. At most instances, I was sure these were the same persons I’ve met in past evenings. We just tend to be less excited of each other as good prospective sex partners in the meantime of current evening. Simply, the excitement has been gone, and we move on to some new prospects that can meet those unidentifiable qualities we actually sought out.
* * * * * * *

One recent encounter recalls of someone whom I have met earlier in another area in the Walls. I remember we even had some snacks together, but then, nothing exciting happened between us. I actually thought of him as a good prospect for a long-term partnership. I remember that we must have met each other at least three times. Once, he simply was avoiding my presence. There was even another chance that I noticed some others who were actively cruising after him, as he has this certain physical presence. I remember he told me of his girlfriend who knows his situation. This girlfriend even extends much of herself in implying that she understands him, by telling him she knows what he has been doing, without him admitting anything. I have also gathered that she even knows this guy has had encounters with some other men who live with him in the dormitory.

I recall, he even related to me that he’s an Elementary Education degree graduate and he’s in town doing saleswork for a consumer products retail company. He tells me he drives around sections of Metro Manila, selling various items to sari sari stores. Looking cute in his imposing built, with two rabbit like front teeth, he has remained to be a looker, particularly in that area. He refused my company, actually, then, for I supposed he could see much of himself in me. But this time, when we saw each other near in front of Andres Bonifacio monument, our recognition of each other had to go beyond the usual exchange of hellos. He was on the other side walking towards the short underpass towards Letran College, as he gave me that interesting look. He glanced back at me and I just thought we could get together even for a short while. I didn’t recognize him actually as I followed him in the underpass. We immediately did the works, with him wanting to penetrate me. I was thankful I bought some condoms, but we just failed in making much use of them. He just couldn’t get through me, so we just simulated the act, while he jacked me off. All the while our encounter was twice interrupted by passersby. He was looking at me intently, as I saw him give me the quizzical look of recognition, as he soon realized we have actually met before. I never talked to him about it, as I worked on him. I recall with thanks that I might have come, but sadly, I knew well that he never did. It must have been the alcohol in him, as both of us smelt of alcohol that early, early morning.
* * * * * * *

I try to move on, and not be bothered anymore with these cruising evenings. Yet, after each periodic effort, my attempts fail. Perhaps, I need to be back every now and then, just as to be reaffirmed of my being. I now cover the grounds along the Manila Hotel, as the view along this section offers much more in many aspects.

One encounter refers to someone who sprouted out of the darkness, one late evening, as I was already preparing myself to wait for better prospects. Those who came earlier seemed to look quite uninteresting. I simply couldn’t get going until I saw this one who looked as if he was merely passing by. He appeared in his late twenties, quite big in his frame of 170 pounds, and very typical of those men I see in Cavite or in Batangas. There were many attempts for the two of us to finally get to talk with each other, but at the onset, we kept from talking by settling ourselves to study each other’s presence. He had this tabloid with him, as he tried to show to me that he was reading its contents. Somehow, we overcome the first thirty minutes. This procedure of merely studying each other closely continued until, I went out of myself to speak the first word. He simply couldn’t control himself from showing me what he has, as I noticed the bulge. He was then, very much willing, and we settled to look for a place outside the Puerta del Postigo. The ruins of Fr Blanco’s garden can be seen from a distance. He led me to a space behind some plants. He neatly laid down the pages of the tabloid to serve as our instant groundsheet. I thought we could easily be caught barefooted, in case, someone decides to be there that second just with a goal to catch men like us. He felt free in lying down on what he prepared. It looked so convenient. I felt panicky, as I was unwilling to engage with him at he guided me towards his body. He has then removed down his pants up to his feet, plus his shirt rolled up to his nipples. Soon, this shirt was removed completely as I groped with his body.


We thought we were not satisfied with what took place – he simply couldn’t believe himself doing those things there. I just wanted to believe him, anyway, as the prospect of something new rather excites me. This could easily be a repeat yet I recognize some obvious differences. We proceeded to get into a conversation. We were oblivious from the gazing and surprised presence of those who came passing by as we sat intimately on a bench. Among other information he shared and I got to learn was that he was soon to be married to his long time girlfriend (they were already planning the wedding details), who knows nothing, it seems, about his other activities. He just couldn’t offer any explanation why he is into cruising as well. He offered that it could have been to the extreme excitement that he gets into every time he engages in this. He continues to offer me some info: he’s a roving supervisor with a fairly stable, nationwide company; that he has helped himself get an architecture degree while working with the same firm; that he values his family so much so that he likes to build his own family as well. He told me he dislikes effeminate men. I realize that he is also challenged by the thought that he’s making it with another man who supposedly possesses the stereotype physical attributes. He told me about some men in his work that have accosted him with the prospect of becoming discreetly attached to any one of them. Soon I found out that he gave me a different name, as in the next meetings, he felt the need to protect his own identity from a complete stranger. That same night, we proceeded to engage again with each other in a more private room nearby.

He called me several times at work, as he must have wondered why I haven’t been calling his cell phone. He informed me of his longing at certain nights to receive a call from me. I tried to call, but simply, his cell phone was unreachable by our landline phone. Something was wrong with the connection. We met again and repeated what we did the first time. We could have progressed into something more concrete and stable. I figured this just couldn’t be so as it’s basically an illicit one (though very exciting). I thought I couldn’t be sharing someone very close to me with someone else.
* * * * * * *

As I walked on one night, I got so tired with all the ensuing tiresome small talk and empty silences I got from some prospects. I decided to just allow myself to be cruised by hopefully some interesting fellows. I decided I would just sit for a while along the unlit pathway of Burgos Street. They have just turned off the lights inside the golf range, as it was way past midnight. It was pretty black all throughout except from lights coming from the vehicles and trucks moving towards South Pier. One lanky guy came by walking from the opposite direction of the lights coming from the road. I could see that he looked interesting, though not exactly good looking. Something was within the range of his looks that remind of some naughty events that may yet to come, if I allow myself to get his attention. Somebody was following him, as I get to see him more clearly in his youthful outfit. He sat beside me, I felt relieved. Soon, we were talking.

“Mukhang okay ka naman, sama ka sa akin? ("You seem to be OK....would you like to come with me?),” as I heard him invite me to his place.

I suggested that we just take the taxi, as I understood that he lived quite nearby, which apparently turned out to along the Remedios Circle in Malate. I saw a number of other men who were also in the lookout for some kind of a event, yet they were definitely in a different galaxy of a cruising area, where some different rules of the game are played. Things were turning okay, as I felt proud that I was in for a seemly different night. I almost chickened out when I saw an office colleague of mine standing in a sari sari store, where he was drinking gin with some other three fellows. They were a bit drunk. I felt paranoid. I could sense he knew what I was into, yet I felt, I had to proceed as normal as I could. I just introduced the lanky guy to my officemate, and I thought of buying Coke, just to create some kind of effect. So I just proceeded and followed my companion, just at least for the night, as I supposed.

He showed a cube of a room upstairs, where practically all our sound might get to be heard outside. He motioned me to just keep silent as he turned on the 50 watts bulb above our heads. He showed me some photos from a man to man magazine, which he must have thought could provoke something of the sexual in both of us. I told myself, I didn’t need any of these, as I felt aroused anyway, at any rate. He even showed my some fancy photos of himself, which I was sure was taken from the studio, to make him look good, at least the most correct manner possible that the photographer could create into the given limits.

He got a big cache of other photos from a big black portfolio, as were working on ourselves already, already lying naked in the small mat and two big pillows that smelled of big men’s perspiration. He soon revealed to me that he has a lover, who’s away for the next three nights, as he’s abroad, somewhere in Singapore, doing some manpower recruitment business. I soon got so eager to find out who his lover was. I got to befuddled by what he showed me in the photos – his lover possessed such angelic face in a hunk of a man. I took a long, serious at my partner tonight. His lover has one of the best looking faces I’ve seen in along while, as I saw his pictures depicting him almost naked, inside the same room where I lay naked for tonight. Moreso, he’s got such well-toned skin. I was tempted to ask for a copy that I’d like to keep myself. He just smiled and continued with the works that started with the usual tight hugs and kisses all over my face.

As we were working ourselves to eventually come, I kept thinking of his lover. I kept on asking about his partner. My partner told me they got to first meet each other in Cebu City, where they used to work together in SM Cebu, and where both had serious girlfriends. They eventually got to be closed buddies in a gym, where they got to assist each other in the weights, until my partner for the night went back to Manila. Two years ago, they got to bumped into each other in Robinsons Manila and my partner even failed to recognize his present lover. The friendship blossomed, until one night; my partner got himself enough courage to propose into something more serious. They have been lovers since then. One setback though, as my partner, moaned about his lover’s disinterest to explore other areas in their sex lives. My partner apparently wanted more. He could get himself satisfied enough with what his lover was able to provide him. He knew his lover was faithful to him, and he felt proud of their loving friendship. The night was over in a few hours. I felt like telling him to work on the aspect of faithfulness, as I got wake up beside him in preparation for my trip back home.
* * * * * * *

One evening could have turned out to be among the ordinary ones had I not got the chance to meet one big fellow who’s also into drugs, particularly shabu. The minute I saw him along the dark pathway near the Manila City Hall, I realized that he was very much for the taking. Wearing a short polo shirts, he had this cute mustache, and sweet smile, and a slowly balding head. In a second, I actually got to fuck him among the bushes, while no one was coming from the visible distance. He was relieved but he wanted to fuck me as well. I thought against the idea, as we could easily be caught with our pants down. Barangay voluntary security personnel have been doing the rounds in the vicinity lately. He walked and we just talked. I asked how he has managed to keep away from getting caught. He smiled and showed me some money bills, and noted that “everything’s just a matter of money,” in his cute Ilonggo accent. We continued walking until we reached the space where an old white Toyota Corolla was parked. He showed me, and I noticed that the car’s back seat have been removed from its place. We could have easily made headway in this space actually.

He lived somewhere in San Antonio Village near Vito Cruz in Makati City. His bed is beside a wide mirror where we could practically watch ourselves while in the bedroom. With the cold blow of air coming from the airconditioner, I felt sexy and free as my mind went out of its own order. We started watching a number of man to man VHS tapes, that showed everything imaginable, without any recognizable stories at all. This was actually my first chance to watch these kinds of tapes in all their glory without fear of being caught by someone who would come out of nowhere. Looking more closely, the actors looked very mechanical in their approach in the given situation, yet the actors possessed such good and well toned bodies. Most didn’t possess that typical passionate outlook that we expect them to get into, at least, in their efforts to portray this whole business of pornographic sex. Soon as the night progressed into a lull, he eventually succeeded in fucking me in the bathroom as we started having sex again upon entering the house that smelled of a particular dried herb. He actually talked very well, even among other people whom I get to meet in my ordinary life. We were completely engaged in a conversation, about the costs of maintaining his lifestyle, as I went about fucking him again as he moaned and moaned up to coming. Very witty and sexual, he remarked that even Senator Juan Ponce Enrile laughs at his effortless witticisms. That evening ended the next day, when I woke up from the voice outside the window. I saw him got up to open the door from the other room. They were talking. I was soon introduced to another tall guy. They’re friends, and they were then involved in advertising needs of the Philippine Airlines (PAL). These were the ads of PAL which showed the “beauty of the Philippines is shining through,” at scenes after scenes of the exquisitely photographed Philippines are shown. We went out and ate in a Japanese restaurant nearby, as both of them continued talking about their meeting with another close friend, who’s a excellent middle aged, sexy actress who also sings well and whom you get to see performing in TV movies once in a while.

We met several times after that initial midnight to breakfast meeting. I soon found out that he possessed the same first and surname, with the Spanish connective “de” in between. He lived with his old mother on the other half of the house that is separated by an undetectable door smartly place among the décor. He also had a doberman dog, that stood almost as tall as myself, that’s quite friendly yet scary to be with, even if he is around. I simply fail to forget this fellow who told me startling things about this kind of lifestyle that we lead.

He told me about his previous job as a General Manager of an overseas recruitment agency that supplies Filipino workers for assignments abroad. He related to me how he had made it with many applicants who willingly have sex with him at any instance, even inside his office. He remarked about the number of good-looking Filipinos who were just very much willing to offer themselves just as to get employment abroad. I guess, this must have true as well in some other agencies.

Another of notable stories includes that of his encounters with some other young, cool and tall men whom he get to meet in the malls. They usually get enthralled by his smart talking approach, as each of them get to follow his usual details of his ritual. He smiles and appears ultra friendly. He appears helpless and longing. They talk. They drink. He brings the catch to his car. They may get into taking some drugs. And he usually ends up fucking each of them. It gives him extreme pleasure to get to fuck the type of man who has never even thought nor invited the idea of getting fucked in his whole life, earlier. This type usually ends up crying, after realizing the kind of experience he has gone through, as if losing his innocence.
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The first time I got to meet this chap, he was in complete black attire, from top to bottom, to include an expensive pair of black shoes. He wears the latest cut in hairstyle then, which helped make him looked considerably younger. I’ve noticed that his facial skin must have been treated regularly by a dermatologist, as it looked rosy and tender. He confirmed this to me later. There is an air of over confidence around him yet he was not at all condescending in attitude (unlike some typical fellows who carry that poor attitude on their sleeves when dealing with guys not of their social kind). That first time, he immediately dropped down his woolen pants, as he allowed me to fuck him, right there and then, among the bushes just after the Manila City Hall across the street. It took as a while to get over the act, as he wanted more and more of what I could provide him.

We were talking about his arrival from abroad a few hours earlier prior to his cruise in the Walls. Growing curious, I asked him about the kind of business that he has, but he refused to give me additional details. Yet he willingly volunteered to inform me that he lived somewhere in one of those townhouse units in Valle Verde. He was worried as his old, nagging mother, come breakfast time, would then be asking him again as to his whereabouts the night before. He needed again to work on the security guard of the association, just as to silence the guard from ever telling his mother as to what time he arrived the night before.

He gave me his number, which I actually used to get in touch with him. He was almost always panicky whenever he receives a call from me, typically unlike when he’s the one who gets in touch with me. In fact, we met several times. I even recall agreeing to meeting with him at an SM Cinema outlet in Quezon City, where he gave me a blow job, while I was intently watching a serious foreign film amidst the darkness of an almost empty theatre.

We saw each other somewhere near the Metropolitan Theatre, just across the flyover leading towards Quiapo. He was with another friend whom he introduced to me, as he was delighted to see me again. We had sex, right there and then, in front of his friend, as the strong rains were falling, as were doing out thing underneath a covered space in the space-for-rent of the Theatre.