Some Growlr Exchange With A 'Bottom Indian'

Hi

Hello! How r u today? Thanks for checking out my profile here... 

Fuck me 

I cant today...wednesday next week will for me...where do u live? Can u host? 

Can u host 

It is complicated. I have to introduce u 1st to my landlord & roommates, then we can do it in my room d next few times u visit d house

 The come pick me up

Sorry, i don't drive... 

Wow u suck

Ha ha ha u r really an Indian, nothing matters to u except material wealth.....good riddance! 

No.
Pakistan. 

(I didn't edit the lines anymore even though you'd see errors there. Are Pakistani members of the LGBT community really like this one? I hope I'm just mistaken and it was just my fortune to meet someone like him that day online.)

Recalling a Middle-East Pilot from Someone Else's Story A Long Time Ago

When I used to visit one of those early lgbt-friendly bathhouses back in Metro Manila many years ago (I know it was owned and operated by a couple whose connections with the then powerful Marcos clan were really that strong and dependable), I met one guy with whom I exchanged furtively-narrated brief stories in between our cruising activities in the bathhouse. Of course, I can't recall the complete details now, but I still recall how one of his stories would turn me on and make me imagine more details than what were originally provided to me by this fellow who took a particular liking to me that evening. 

He's one of those cute guys who work in one of the major airlines, and you know right away that he's well compensated unlike most workers I'd see those days. He was behaving like he was getting disappointed over his waning prospects of ending up with someone he really likes to be with that night. I saw him walking all over the place, as he would cover the ground floor and the second floor, which was typical with most every one else during that night. 

I would soon learn practically everything about his sexual preferences that time. Among his stories, he shared me his encounter with a commercial airline pilot from the Middle East. The fellow who was sharing me these details probably could have been an airline purser, or one of those who checks out airline personnel before a plane flies out or if there's something that has to be delivered personally (probably a reader out there can explain to me if this makes sense). One time, he had to approach the cockpit and had to brief the pilots for one critical reason or another. The pilot, whom he described as goodlooking, middle-aged but with well-preserved physique, gave him a look and asked him to pay him a visit at his hotel later that night. He understood very well the invite.

And he did show up. He was soon knocking on his hotel door, and he was let in, and he saw the pilot had already started having his cocktails. Oh, my storyteller would soon share me how this pilot would soon be penetrating him several times that night. They would share the whole evening together and parted ways the next day when the pilot had to be flying out of Manila.

I was fancying about this recollection of a story I heard many years ago mainly because I had been seeing numerous retired professional pilots on TV lately because they're being interviewed to share their thoughts out because of the missing Malaysian Airlines airplane. It's my fervent wish and hope that the plane would soon be found out somewhere out there in the waters that cover over 70% of this planet where we do all sorts of things that we can ever imagine during our respective lifetimes.

Making An Impression To Someone During and After A Sexual Encounter

I was on my way to work when I happened to chance upon one fellow in medium height and who was wearing a light orange cotton shirt, white shorts, dark rubber shoes with laces in one of those subway stops in the Upper East Side (UES) in Manhattan very early in the morning. He's bald by choice of haircut and wears a thin mustache and I felt the attraction his presence was creating on that platform. For a few moments we were alone on the wooden bench that could seat at least 5 people while some other passengers would come and go by us, and which situation got both of us in the cruising dance that we were doing by choice. We recognized our attraction to each other. 

I was not sure if the other passengers were aware of what we were doing. I could remember the smell that emanates from that train station where the green lines pass by all the time. A white woman would come and seat in between us, such that he and I could not continue to make moves on our dance. He stood and walked towards the front end of the train, and presently I would follow him.

After briefly chatting the usual lines, I asked if I can hold the bulge in my hands. He willingly agreed and I was surprised about the size. I could not feel any hesitation on my part right there and then; I wanted to make it with him if we could continue with our dance that was abruptly put to a stop.

I was surprised he was giving me signals and telling me that I should be careful with what I was saying before him. Before that, we kissed briefly, and hugged as well. He's telling me that he knows that his own people, especially the women, would be listening even from a distance and could figure out what was happening between us. I actually knew that but I didn't want to be bothered by such concerns anymore, mainly because I'm beyond such concerns. Life's too brief to bother myself about what others think of me; it's their business, anyway. I've been out as long as I can remember, which has provided me the temerity to do what I want as long as I'm not unknowingly hurting or at worst, killing anyone. But to give respect to his request, I mostly kept my mouth shut as we boarded our crowded train. I knew people were looking at us, as I'm very much Asian-looking or Hispanic looking as others would tell me, and he's a well built black guy. 

As we stood next to each other inside the train, he would soon ask me to join him in his place somewhere in Crown Heights in Brooklyn. I quickly decided that I like to be with him and spend time so we could get to know each other better. He was surprised that I had been somewhere near where he grew up in Louisiana, and that I got the impression that he does not desire to create an impression that he's out as a gay person to others. I asked if he's single and that if he lives alone. He replied 'yes' to the first and I don't think I heard him reply to the second one.

We had to take the cab from the train stop so that we could reach his place faster. He's aware that I had to be rushing back to work as soon as we're over. We were soon naked together on his queen size bed that had dark brown bedsheets on that time. He put a white towel on it, which I noticed as I proceeded to do my work on his very well built and well toned body. Needless to say, we were both satisfied and done with our work in a few moments. Those moments included myself taking a shower, and himself taking a shower as well soon after I was done. He's surprised to realize that his neighbors were probably hearing what we were talking about, and that they could have seen both of us naked in the bathroom. The bathroom's window was half opened and I could see the neighbor's windows half opened, too. They could overhear us, definitely, if they would care to really lend us their ears during those early moments on that Sunday morning.

I have realized I created strong impressions on him. It's Gay Pride Day and I greeted him for the occasion. I heard from him, too, about a good friend of his who was visiting him and who flew back to his place by the time both my newly found friend and I came to that spacious 1 bedroom apartment. It's nicely furnished, kept orderly and relatively clean. I told him I'm out, and I knew he's taken somewhat aback by my attitude. But his attraction by me persisted in him, such that we ended up being in bed for the first time on that day. 

"You have to be extra careful with what you're saying especially when talking with black men, or those you may call 'colored men.' Women are particularly very sensitive when they overhear what we are talking about. And they're very harsh in judging colored men on the down low," he told me and I'm narrating here as far as I could make a recollection now. 

I have to add that we both created great impressions on one another's presence. I'm grateful to have met and known him. I don't really know if he would still like to meet up with me again. That remains to be seen. I know my strong impression on him bothered him as he realized quickly soon that I'm really out to celebrate myself as a person. I have not much qualms about showing out who I am as a person to others. And I keep in mind all the the time that others have the same right, which they always have to claim and act out to make sense about celebrating who we are as unique individuals. 

We can't continue putting each other down, just because  we behave not according to some people's unexpressed and ever evolving norms and merely being set-up to keep away from offending other people's sensibilities. The world continues to move on. I pray my new friend realizes that he has more to gain by being able to accept who he is really as a person. And I do hope he ceases to continue being internally homophobic with himself, with all its accompanying implications. I realized I've made a sustained strong impression on him, such that he would immediately give me instructions on how to behave when we are in public (which maybe useful if ever we meet again). Out of respect for his feelings, I'll take them to heart the next time I deal with him, as well as those other men who behave similar to him. As for myself, I know I'm happier in my own state in life, given all these troubles when I meet strangers with whom I have sex with in due time. I can only wish the same for my newly met friend and others similar to him, who would rather put into hiding those truthful but really beautiful aspects about themselves, than just lay down their hair whenever they are in public. 

That Pedestrian Bridge Connecting the Chinese General Hospital and the College of Nursing

My first book is now available in hardcover, paperback, e-book formats from my online store, Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, Xlibris.com, Powell's Books, and other online stores.
These encounters took place so many years ago that I am struggling to recall and share more vividly a lot of the details I still have in stock memory about them. I would continue to wonder why I recall the encounters once in a while, even if I'm already based in a faraway country from where they originally took place. And I still get snatches of the freshness of the encounters in my mind when I ponder on the best scenes from my intimate experiences, especially when I'm just by myself. The memory of making it with some fellows who happened to be around during those nights when I decided I'd like to cruise somewhere near the Manila North Cemetery still comes into shore as if they just happened yesterday. The memory would usually start with what I had observed from some distance. I had seen many times from my seat in a moving vehicle the street where we were passing by had men who would be running to and fro from the cemetery. They're moving as quickly as they could from something scary and what was similar to what happened to me many times when I used to cruise in the Intramuros Walls. 

Just right in front of the main entrance of this well known cemetery in the Philippine capital, you'll see a nondescript single story building that you could easily guess to be a public restroom. I would assume that this public restroom (which in the USA is called a 'bathoom') was built only as an afterthought and without due regard to design, as it looked so  incongruous as it stands between the wrought iron gates of the cemetery and the pedestrian bridge. I recall that a deep canal flows next to where this restroom stands. But nobody among the regular folks would venture to go there just to pee. And during those years when I used to pass by this area, this building stands almost under the pedestrian bridge and next to the Chinese General Hospital. I'm not sure if it's still there.

I noticed that pedestrian bridge was barely used, which was confounding to me. Or I must had been mistaken by my biases over seeing growing colonies of squatters who live full time within and among the tombs inside the cemetery. These residents could just be using these structures to relieve themselves when they happened to be nearby and had to go. But I would soon discover that it was used by generations of cruisers, including myself who was around for a few times in the late evenings many years ago. One time I walked up the concrete stairs of the pedestrian bridge, which was totally filthy and in a state of disrepair, I remember having made it out with a young man who was thin, goodlooking, with strong solid facial features and who showed up suddenly from nowhere that rainy night. I even brought with me an umbrella. Upon seeing me, he would right away bring down his pants to his knees and allow me to approach him and give him head until he came. And we didn't have the chance to talk, except for a few instructions from him on how I should work on him while we were together. We were both young, so restless and so full of sexual energy that we were then learning to manage (probably no one among our networks would be willing to instruct us on how to manage these energies oozing from our young bodies) to meet our needs and wants.

As I would soon discover, the public bathroom right under the pedestrian bridge was also known to have been a tryst used by a lot of men who just wanted to have some adventure, a little bit of privacy, and quickly come or just watch other men jerking themselves until they come. Inside, it was reeking with urine smell, dried and fresh feces and other unimaginable dirt. But you'd make up faces of men as your eyes have been exposed to the dark after a while when inside; you would soon figure out that these men had been doing something more. I recall having met another young man there, who was probably of the same age as mine then. We grappled at each other's bodies as soon as we found each other in the dark space. But the strong stench of the place probably got into him so that he decided to invite me to his place, which he said was nearby. We'd walked a few blocks, and I recall the place was close to the Dimasalang Bridge. It was past 3am then, and I noticed all the silent and dark houses whose residents were in deep slumber. The streets were all lighted, and I would quickly recall in mind some movie scenes showing such typical streets in Manila. We stopped before a single family house that has a passenger jeepney standing on its front. 

Inside the jeepney, I saw a man sleeping and heard him softly snoring. My companion volunteered to tell me the guy's their driver; his family has a jeepney for business, apparently. We moved and walked along the side on an unlighted short alleyway that leads to the front door of the house. It was dark, and he stopped just in front of the door. In an instant, we started kissing and hugging each other as we continued with undressing each other. Our shirts were off, then followed by our pants, and our underpants. We just continued kissing, hugging, cuddling, and moaning. 

I could see that the door might be opened by anyone from inside the house. But who would think somebody might do that at such an unholy hour? We silently proceeded to suck each other's cocks. We were soon coming on each other's laps. It was over in 15 minutes or so, the prelude of which was started in that very dirty public restroom. I was glad I did come. I recall that good looking guy wanted us to meet again some time; I might have been given his phone number so that I could get in touch with him. I paid more attention to his good looks; he's a skin tone lighter than myself, which quality in the Philippines is generally given more premium when it comes to physical looks. We were similar in height, built and weight, plus with similar middle class social background (we were both in college then). I felt like I was being attracted to another version of myself as I continued observing him. He was friendly, I recall. And just like typical properly reared adolescents, we said thanks to each other. But I don't think I went out of my way to contact him again. I recall he had then been studying at the nearby University of Santo Tomas (known as Asia's oldest university). I was still then not sure if I wanted to be in touch with someone I surreptitiously had quick sex with. But I knew I totally enjoyed the brief encounter.

I never went back again to that tiny cruising ground in front of the Manila North Cemetery. I would just go back there mainly because I knew one of my brothers, in his very young age as a baby of around 7 days old, was buried there. Unfortunately, we couldn't locate his tomb anymore during the last time we were there during the traditional annual day of visit to honor the memory of the dead. The authorities must have placed his body with those others whose families or relatives have failed to pay the annual dues to the city government, which happens as a way to control the dead population being buried in that cemetery that has among its permanent residents the rich and famous of the Philippine state, and that has a grand collection of very elaborate, unique and awesome tomb structures (a must-see destination of any curious, open minded tourist in Manila). To this day, I'm still sorry our family never got the chance to keep and maintain my brother's tomb.

In Memory of A Very Dear Friend Who Was Murdered in His Quezon City Apartment

My first book is now available in hardcover, paperback, e-book formats from my online store, Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, Xlibris.com, Powell's Books, and other online stores.
These days, whenever I recall the memory of a very dear friend who was murdered in his Quezon City apartment, I would say a brief prayer and proceed to utter some lines like I was talking to myself, but which are actually lines I imagine I would have told him if he was still around. I terribly miss this good man, and I think he knows that. He'd make his presence felt one way or another; I come into terms now that I won't be able to share him stories of my daily life here in New York City (NYC) where I've moved close to 7 years ago. I would have gone out of my way to persuade and convince him to take the leap by giving up his very comfortable lifestyle back in the Philippines but decided I won't do it. I did exactly what I would have dreamed of telling him on what to do with his life direction and I have been continuing with the moving on process. And this posting should have been in my 'Moving On' blogs but I would be sharing explicit details that may be too frank and offensive to certain readers. And I think some relatives of this very good friend of mine, if ever they get to read this, will also be offended, one way or another. I've no harm nor malice against them; I just like to get my good friend's murder mystery be solved now.

In the Philippines, we usually refrain from bringing up the memory of someone who's greatly beloved in less than hallowed terms whenever we recall them, as we believe they've become saints and have to be held in utmost respect (especially because they can't be able to defend themselves). But I'll be taking the risk of being damned for doing this. This is my way to take action over my prayers to have my good friend's murder be solved and those persons involved in his murder be hailed to court and meted the correct amount of justice in due time. My point really is continue creating and sustaining awareness about this murder, which I know will be repeated again and again unless the perpetrators or the actual murderers are hailed to court and be given justice.

My good friend was murdered by someone he knew personally. It's obvious that he won't have let him into his apartment if he didn't know him personally; they're not mere acquaintances and they had met many times before. I hope I'm wrong with this but he could have been one of my good friend's regular lovers, some of whom I never got to meet because I moved here in NYC. Just like myself, my good friend loved variety. And as for someone who would show up to my friend's apartment, he'd have to figure out how to get into that semi-fortress-like apartment as my good friend made sure he would have to follow a particular process to unlock his apartment's doors just to let someone in. Unwittingly, he decided to let his murderer in.

I like to believe there was just a single murderer. And the murderer was also a thief; he took my friend's celfone, a number of clothes and other stuff. As a sign that he's more smarter than the usual murderer, he didn't take my friend's car, which was parked in front of the apartment. After much thinking I did over possible scenarios, I would venture into some hits and misses here to pinpoint possible murderers still in the lurk out there and are preparing to make the next kill. I like to believe that the murderer's a manly kind of a man, most probably with brown skin and well proportioned physique.

As to figuring out the motivations, I like to believe the murderer is someone who is very angry, which emotions he couldn't voice out loudly often enough, at goodlooking gay people who have been leading very successful lives in the context of being in Philippine society where poverty remains to be a common factor being experienced by many. It seems like it's a huge jarring contradiction that such goodlooking, well-off men would have so much in life in a sea of people who may have been leading miserable, poverty stricken (which we can only observe on the surface) but not necessarily sad lives. And these men would still prefer to have sex with other men, whenever they want it and they have the means to pay just to make it with other men. It's almost an insult for someone who has grown up in the Philippines to see that some people would behave like they're just taking so many things for granted. And someone like him would be simple minded enough to be encouraged to murder men who have sex with other men. He may have grown to be guilt ridden for some time for allowing himself to be seduced, to have enjoyed the pleasure and to have sex with such types of men and be paid for it (one way or another). Given his value system, he has to take revenge in an opportune time, which soon came to my good friend. I like to believe what happened to my friend has been the outcome of getting someone so envious and be so enraged that he had to step out and eventually kill, and in this case, my good friend.

My good friend would fit those descriptions to a 'T.' We had known each other way back in high school years and he's one of the best looking guys I've met and known. We would always be thought as lovers by strangers and other acquaintances who would meet us the first time. We behaved like we're that intimate with each other, and I like to believe we really cared for each other. I don't wonder really as to why people think of us in that manner; even one of my former girlfriends thought we were lovers but she would find out that she was mistaken. And I know why we couldn't be lovers because we have very similar tastes when it comes to the type of men we would love to meet up, seek after and get intimate with. And I supposed we were doing very similar activities when in bed with these men; we were never in bed together. I think my friend's too goodlooking for my taste, honestly.

And the murderer made sure he would not leave until he killed my friend. My friend most probably died a slow painful death. His face was lacerated on many sides and mangled, and even his eyes were plucked out (based on what I heard from another friend who saw him the next day lying dead on the kitchen floor close to the bathroom). It was a good decision during the funeral to accede to my friend's wishes (mentioned many times while he was still alive) to have the casket remain closed so his corpse won't be gawked at by people.

A number of reports on similar deaths have been made in the Philippines, and I could relate to you the stories of other people I know who have died in similar circumstances like those surrounding the grim death of my good friend. As we loved to drink and get crazy together, my good friend and I would be at many bars where we would learn from other sources about certain men who were known to us and had been murdered by unknown people. Gossip about these stories are very common. What's more common among these deaths is that these men, when they were still around, were known to be men who had sex with other men. You may label such a lifestyle the way you want. And there seems to be a disturbing silence cast over these deaths by certain members of Philippine society. Some of them are among the elite families of Philippine society, who I like to believe, prefer not to be exposed to shame and unnecessary spin of intrigues that some may think about when they learn about such stories. Most continue with their usual lives being in denial on what happened to some of their loved ones, rather than bravely facing truths that would help them lead more significant lives.

Let's see how this murder would be solved, sooner or later.

A Few Remarkable Nagoya, Japan Memories

My first book is now available in hardcover, paperback, e-book formats from my online store, Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, Xlibris.com, Powell's Books, and other online stores.
During a personal trip to Japan, I experienced the kind and generous hosting of other Filipinos whom I've never met before. I happened to have told another Philippine-based friend that I was planning a personal trip to Japan and was wondering who could host me as I wanted to save some of my money, which I expected to spend much in Japan---you know, Japan is among the most expensive places to visit on earth. And this friend volunteered to ask some of his good friends in Nagoya, Japan. These friends immediately agreed to host me, and would even go out of their way to pick me up from the airport. It was during this trip that I also took the chance to visit Tokyo and other locations where I was also graciously hosted in the houses of other set of friends whom I personally know back in the Philippines.

Among many wonderful memories, I will always secretly smile over those memories my friends made sure I experienced while having  adult fun activities while in Japan, including those in Nagoya, a city that's not Tokyo nor Osaka in size but a respectable metropolis that's as interesting as any other major city in Japan. One set of memories involves having me visit a bathhouse, the other variety where men would show up in certain hours to make it with other men. Japan, apparently, has nothing much in terms of similarities when it comes to its approach in handling issues related to men having sex with other men. Its people are very frank and open about these matters, including those related to more usual lifestyles, although you'd still see the hush-hush attitude toward certain kinds of lifestyles. They are not surprised; it's just that most of them believe men and women have distinctive set of roles to play as responsible members of their relatively homogeneous society. Don't be surprised, but you'd be able to watch porn channels on TV anytime. But you won't be able to see the performers' genitals as they're usually blotched out for viewers not to see them (and you'll be able to see everything else). You'll blush if you're not used to such TV scenes available and easily accessible to anyone.  They're just one of those normal things when you find yourself in Japan, which things include graphically shocking manga (comics) available everywhere.

And in Nagoya, I found myself during that trip being toured inside one of those bathhouses. I've been to several sento locations in Japan many times, which are very memorable places as well, but in this kind of bathhouse where I was given a tour by one of my hosts, men would go to meet their cravings for specific sexual needs. After walking on the ground and upper floors for some time, I would yield to what I would acknowledge as being part of the erotic image in my mind and I would remember making it with someone young, tall, thin and sexy, the type of whom some white men I've met would drool over. It was below freezing degrees outside but the degrees that crept in between that guy's body and my own would have been enough to hardboil an egg, so to speak (and just to give you an idea of how and what events go about in that particular bathhouse). And there were long moments of kissing and hugging, the details of which I'd love to recall vividly once in a while.

My friend, who was then already done with his own cruising, was already waiting for me in the lobby after I finished with my own and would have still wanted to venture for more but I recalled I had company waiting for me. I would just smile upon seeing him and was grateful that he waited for me. Men in that particular spot, just like in most bathhouses, like their men to be younger, and that seemed to be the rule. Thankfully, I was still younger then, and was rather confident with my looks. The whole scenario's a vanity exercise to learn from on how to engage in cruising and be accomplished in the end, and it's a strong reminder that we have to take good care of ourselves, most particularly our physical selves, in order to survive long in this kind of lifestyle. We would never know when the next chance will come, and so, we better be prepared.

Doing Paid Massage Gigs that Usually Lead to Something More

My first book is now available in hardcover, paperback, e-book formats from my online store, Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, Xlibris.com, Powell's Books, and other online stores.
There was a period during my first few years in New York City (NYC) that I figured out a way to make money to make ends meet was thru active offering of massages to all those interested to shell out money in exchange for these services. Actually, these are honest-to-goodness whole body massages that in most cases would lead to something else, such that it's understood by authorities that providing such services are really just among the many fronts of prostitution, which still remains illegal. And to offer the services on Craigslist is somewhat a sign that something else happens beyond the usual.

A lot of these gigs I did, really and admittedly, had fun endings. It's implied that such endings would happen and has never been discussed openly between myself and a client before we went into the massage session. Don't be surprised about this as you can read serious literature where such massage sessions have been accounted most extensively, described as 'glorious,' and they have happy endings, too. In most parts of Asia where I hail from, massages happen and are considered very normal. And with my massage gigs, fun means having a great conversation happening as the massage ensues from my limbs to my particular client ---it's always an amazing experience and honor for me to be able to massage someone who respects himself / herself, such that a massage session has to happen, despite the busy lives we human beings lead and pursue. It's a spiritual experience, despite the connotations attached to it by some people who may have problems related to intimacy. It's a secret recipe a couple is advised to learn, mix and incorporate at least twice a week in their life as a couple to ensure the relationship will grow and last longer than usual.

As to how I got into massaging is a whole different story by itself, which I will cover in some other future postings. But I can confidently do an honest-to-goodness whole body massage, and I would always be complemented for it, including by those who I would eventually go out on dates with for some time. And I would have repeat clients who call me from time to time when they need a serious, honest-to-goodness, whole body massage (I have strong hands and you'd see me sweating all over as I work on you because I take the work of massaging a human body seriously). Of course, there were clients who didn't really like my style. I would refuse clients' fee to me if they think I did a bad job, or I was thinking they like something else, or if I sensed they weren't happy with my work---some would insist I took the money just to compensate me for time I spent showing up to their place (usually their homes or places of work/business).

One particularly memorable client was this very big guy, who was at least 6'6" in height, with a classic Italian-looking handsome face, middle-aged, with a big tummy that he could have worked out to reduce but was probably so lazy to do so (or probably so sick to do so), but whose face looked like a goodlooking movie star (I can't remember whose, but I was amused by his movie star looks). Upon letting me in to  his walk-up messy apartment in the Upper East Side, he would tell me right away to masturbate him as I was plodding on his back, which direct request immediately turned me off. I wanted to do a massage, and not necessarily to masturbate someone and be paid for it. He was then naked, with a limp penis, that could have been more attractive to me if he behaved with more respect towards my presence in his apartment. As far as I could recall, the exchange of lines between us went like this:

"Of course, I expect that you will masturbate me. I saw your profile on Craigslist. Aren't those things expected? Just work on me now," as behaved bored with what I was doing and he would point to me where he wanted me to work on.

"I don't think so. I came here to give you a massage and not necessarily to masturbate you."

"Are you being real?"

"Yes."

"So, you're going to refuse to work on me?"

"Yes, and I'm going to leave now" as I decided this gig won't be as fun, tasteful as I expected when I thought he could have been a fun client based on his looks. This has become a consistent experience with me; the more the person looks awesome physically the more nasty his or her behavior towards others can turn out to be.

He was taken aback but still managed to offer to pay me. He insisted that I take his money just to pay me for my time. Quickly, I gave him back his money, and started leaving his apartment. I was thankful it was over as soon as I sensed he's an ass-hole. Actually, such types of services can be had without the need to pay someone; you just have to work with people who are willing to get into a meet-up with you and it works best if it had been agreed upon prior to a meet-up between two willing, of-age parties.

And I recall having a nasty experience with a lady who provides expensive beauty treatments for a living and whom I personally know prior to our massage session. I was referred to her by another friend who highly recommended me to her. She would be nudged to accept the recommendation but I had a sense that something would go wrong as she kept on asking about my credentials and license, which obviously I could not give her. And one night, I would give her a massage using the techniques I prefer using. And I would fail to listen to what she wanted as she kept on telling me instructions on how to give her a massage. Needless to say, it was a total failure. Soon, we were having a discussion. And I would be enraged feeling so embarrassed, stupid and humiliated. I think I simply made an asshole of myself by agreeing to give this particular client a massage, which I failed to deliver because I wasn't doing the kind of massage that she was used to getting from her regular old Chinese masseur.

Of course, I would refuse the money she handed me, even if she kept on insisting I take it. I would still like to keep my self respect, whatever was left of it. And my friend who was around during the massage was also embarrassed and we would not talk about it anymore in the future, as if it didn't happen. Thankfully, that scenario still stays up to now. After that experience, I would keep away from doing massage gigs anymore, except for clients who have become good friends of mine. Some of these friends, if they only knew how to properly approach me, could actually get these massages for free but I'm not telling them that --- giving massages is really hard, mentally draining work, period.

And I've figured out, in due time, that I'll take formal massage lessons and would to get my licence. With this approach, I'll gain some more respect as a masseur here in NYC, where a host of people who claims to be offering honest-to-goodness massages live and pursue their lives' interests. Personally, I love to give and receive massages; it's just that most people out there are dirty minded about this kind of job. Their miserable, failed sex lives are projected on you as they try to pay you to get what they want in order to become intimate with you, another human being, and which need for intimacy is a very basic one in order to grow and develop as a person.

Be my next client, if we can find a common time to do a massage, given the crazy schedule I follow because of my other activities here in NYC. We can also do massage exchanges if we mutually agree on these arrangements. If you like to try how a massage session happens with me, call or email me for a schedule, and we can get together when you're here in NYC. I can show references, in case you need them.

I'm Wondering If Cruising Still Takes Place in those Baguio City Cinemas

My first book is now available, in hardcover,  paperback, e-book formats from my online store, Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, Xlibris.com, Powell's Books, and other online stores. 
Years ago, I made a trip to Baguio City from where I used to live in Quezon City. Alone, I found myself checking out and researching on the cruising scene inside Baguio City's moviehouses. I started my cruise in a theatre on Session Road, where I went one time in a previous trip on my birthday to watch and weep over 'Good Will Hunting.' Finding nothing was happening there, I decided to check out and move to some other place. Actually, these movie houses are really cheap places offering 2 movies at the ticket price of one and where you can while your time away before going to your real, official destination in this city known as the 'Summer Capital of the Philippines.' Inside the theater, I noticed people would actually watch the movies being shown on screen. I was actively cruising inside one of those theaters whose name eludes me now; I heard about it from another good friend who already passed away at least 2 years ago as of this writing.

This movie theatre wasn't along Burnham Park, and if my memory serves me right, it's located somewhere near the Baguio Public Market. Getting a ticket for a seat in the balcony section, I would notice that the seats were all made of wood. The floor was also wooden and I realized that the whole place is made up of wood, except for its roof. I would soon find myself inside one of the bathroom stalls in the male bathroom (called 'CR,' as in 'comfort room' in Philippine local parlance). I would notice other guys staying longer than necessary in the urinals where they happened to be waiting for something more to happen. I positioned myself and would soon be exchanging meaningful glances with a light skinned, chink-y eyed youthful looking fellow with rosy cheeks. His medium built has made me think that he could be descended from among the local tribes. And he behaved like he knew what he wanted. After paying attention to each other, we would soon move inside one of the stalls and were talking to each other.

We agreed to move out of the smelly bathroom as soon as he agreed to join me in my rented room in a pre-war hotel, reputably haunted by ghosts as claimed by its customers, and built along the highway that I believe leads to the SM Baguio Shopping Mall. In my room, we were soon kissing, hugging, exploring each other's bodies. My good friend, who also told me about that theater where I met my companion right that moment, reminded me also of how he dislikes guys from the Mountain Provinces. Now, I would understand why. This guy's legs were speckled with scars from then healed small wounds; I suspect it's from certain unhygienic practices. They look clean from the outside as they're noticeably light-skinned (at least those whom I've dealt with). But I just kept my eyes closed and used my imagination more extensively to enjoy his company.

We would both come and would learn more about each other. As this experience happened so many years ago, I barely remember anything about the fellow, except that I was certain he was goodlooking and with a nice, bright smile. I was elated to have made it with him but I was troubled by the scars he had on his legs, which I didn't really have the heart to mention to him. Of course, he knew about them. I made sure I got into the shower as soon as we were done. I allowed the heat of the water to wash away whatever dirt I felt I got from him.

And I would remember we had a nice dinner together in one of those restaurants along Session Road. What happened between him and myself was not considered a commercial transaction, of which I was grateful. I won't still be able to remember more about him. I would say I enjoyed his company, and I think we exchanged contact numbers. I would never know if we actually contacted each other again. But I've grown more aware of the sexuality of men who are from Baguio City and the nearby communities.

I know from experience that men from the region are generally aware and open to the concept of men having sex with other men. They're among the sexiest fellows I've seen, especially when they're outfitted in their traditional garb that covers only their groin but has their butt cheeks exposed. I don't really care about their moral opinions about these behaviors. I would recall a news report about a man who filed a case against another man who sodomized him while both of them were drunk; I would never know whatever happened to that case. And I'm just aware, much more than I would even dare to share here, that men up there engage in intimate acts with other men. It's not only those who are considered natives; I recall having made it in a bathroom stall in a famous restaurant in Baguio City with a scion of a well-to-do family who have large swaths of real estate properties in the city. The last time I heard about him was that he got married and moved to Canada. But I would soon learn he's been divorced and has since been living in with a man.

Encounter In a Second Rate Movie Theater In What Used to be BB in Valenzuela City, Bulacan, Philippines

My first book is now available, in hardcover,  paperback, e-book formats from my online store, Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, Xlibris.com, Powell's Books, and other online stores. 
I will always have a special fondness for the memory of someone I met one time in a second rate movie theater somewhere in Bulacan. It's a place called 'BB', which I believe stands for the expansive 'Beer Brewery' buildings of San Miguel Corporation in the area, and I recall the place was just a jeepney ride away from Monumento in Kalookan City. I don't remember who introduced me to the place, but I'll probably be able to do so if I continue remembering the faces of those friends I met many, many years ago.

The movie theater, which was mainly wooden in its structure and design on its exteriors, and complete with mostly wooden theatre seats, would have served the community theater at a much earlier time when people would still go in droves to theaters to watch the latest or at least the more newer big screen movies. It's a testament to the brave entrepreneurial efforts of business persons who had the resources, the sense of civics, and the desire to make money by meeting the needs of the community. But in time, it has become run-down, kept un-maintained in its now-(then)-cheap looking appearance, and people, mostly menfolk, would show up and watch second-rate movies making the rounds of the marketing aspects of the cinematic business network in the provinces. But BB wasn't really provincial in atmosphere as it's close to Kalookan city, one of the cities making up the National Capital Region. And the theater's reputation would unwittingly spread and be known to the city-living gay folks (unless I'm mistaken with what I've seen so far, lesbians have not been known in any way to do this kind of very public cruising inside theaters)  and their many varied supporters who always had to find means to relieve themselves of their urges and other physical needs but away from the curious behaviors of the members of the more regular crowds that continue to confound businesses and marketers. As such, the daring and brave would show up in the theater anytime from noontime to at least 10pm in the evenings of the whole week to watch movies as well as to get some pleasure, briefly or more longer in duration, by cruising.

By the time I have managed to show up in this theater in my early adolescent years, I would soon realize the theater's patrons have established implied rules and regulations while being in the theater. Men would be then walking most of the period while inside the theater. And men would wait for other men to sit next to them, open their fly and do what's expected between men who knew what they wanted and knew how to exactly get it with such temerity and shamelessness. You can cruise and be cruised around by other patrons, and it's really up to you if you like to join and have brief fun that lasts as soon as one comes literally and figuratively. I believe most would agree with other regular patrons that most of best daring public sexual live scenes between men (it's inside a movie theater where people would still gather) have taken place inside this theater, and such scenes have had been happening also in many similar theaters all over the Philippine archipelago. The director Brillante Mendoza's film 'Serbis' was able to catch and put on film some of those usual stuff that happen inside theaters like this one I've been describing here. But I know and would remember that not a lot of prostitution transactions happen in this theater---you don't really need to pay someone to work on you or for someone you'd like to work on. It's all out there for the grabbing and taking, using the tools you've learned as you were growing up and socializing with other people. If you're friendly enough, you'll always end up meeting with another one or more who are also friendly like yourself. I would learn and hear about  similar observations from other people I've met here in New York City where I am based now, and where the city still has a number of theaters where men would come and gather and have sex with those who attract them and those they find attractive.

In one of those encounters, I managed to be with one medium built light skinned fellow who was wearing shorts, eyeglasses, and some kind of a white undershirt. He could very well had been half Chinese but his eyes didn't show the typical slits in their edges. It's the appropriate outfit when you venture outside and come inside this kind of theater as it's hot, dark, and dingy when your eyes adjust to a different world covered by the theater walls. He appeared to look clean and neat to me, and still very young just like myself then, most probably in our early twenties. I remember he wore flipflops, and it's obvious he lives in the area. I would remember now that I would never encounter him again; if we did actually meet again in another time, he surely had evolved in looks into someone else I would most probably fail to recognize. But during that only encounter, he was one of the most pleasant, nerdy looking, youthful looking young man. We were soon chatting a bit, the details of which I won't be able to recollect now. Up in the balcony, everything is dark, except inside the two bathrooms that stand next to each other where lights are on and I remember the windows open to the scenes below including passersby, residents and visitors in that very commercial part of that small city. You could hear the cacophony of sounds being made by the tricycles moving to and fro their regular whereabouts in the streets of this city. While up in the theater, a lot of very strange and sexual events had been ongoing and taking place all day long.

With both of us still being youthful, we took chances to overcome whatever was bothering us and take chances with each other while others were actually cruising after us, even just for this only moment, which I believe won't even happen if I happened to meet him in the more regular events in our regular, respective lives. He led me to the ladies' bathroom, and inside, he made sure it was locked so we could do exactly what we wanted from and with each other.

I remember his eyeglasses getting wet from the profuse sweat his face would expire as we worked on each other's bodies longingly and most passionately as we could managed. We took turns putting each other's cocks in our respective mouths. By the time we were together inside that bathroom, we definitely knew what we wanted from each other, and there was no need to do more tutoring and get surprised about relatively newer sexual acts that our minds had been pondering on before going out to meet and fool around with other guys. I would remember the heat of those very moments: very hot, and I would probably was soon running a fever! I would hear some other guys trying to get themselves inside the bathroom and would be knocking as if they had to use it for their own private actions I rather not share here. Or they probably wanted to watch us engaged in those acts. In our private quarters during those brief moments, our tight hugs and pouring bodily sweats continued to be exchanged between ourselves, and I would soon feel relieved. I remember he was not circumcised, which is rather unusual for young men of that age. He's really sexy, I will have to add, though. And I had the time of my young life, then. And this particular encounter is probably one of the reasons why I kept on taking my chances by going there often in the hope that I would still see him again. I know he won't refuse me in case that would happen again---but such an opportunity never came again.

And I would be meeting other men of different ages and body builds in this same theater for the next few years that I had managed to be around in this area, in a city that would soon become part of the Philippine National Capital Region. I would be there once or twice on other non-sexual occasions because one of my good college classmates live there; she's already married and with a family and they're still in that city. I would often wonder if the theater has survived to this date the very fast rate of developments that would soon envelop and uncover in that city.