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.
We actually met in a nude massage session that used to happen for so many years in an old building almost along the corner of 6th Avenue and 23rd Street in Manhattan. As you would go up the building, you would pass by a gym that had events offering the Brazilian Capoeira to those enthusiastic participants. I would wonder if these fellows had an idea on what had been ongoing in the confines of the walls standing just next to their door. That massage event would usually be posted on Craigslist and I just followed my instincts as I sought out ways to meet up with interesting, unafraid people as soon as I came to stay for good here in New York City (NYC). A number of men showed up that particular night and some of whom created strong impressions on me as each of them, including myself, went about following the voiced out instructions from the organizer, who would demonstrate the various steps, on how to go about giving massages to the one on the massage table up to a certain period and the others would then get onto the table to be massaged. The process is repeated until every one gets massaged. I recall having massaged and gained more confidence in doing massages from at least 15 men that night; I knew I saw a lot of nakedness from among many men, including my own naked self, that night. I would soon find out that that night's session would be more memorable for some other reason. We were not allowed to do beyond massaging and explicitly told not to give happy endings. Everything was supposed to be sensual.
And with that night's massage session being over, I put on my clothes and went out of the building and quickly got into the subway to go home in Jackson Heights, Queens as the weather was cold that night. Inside the system, I saw one of those guys with whom I exchanged massages standing and waiting on the platform; it's not difficult not to miss him as he was lean and tall at 6'4" and was wearing his rimless eyeglasses on. I was soon chatting with him as I decided I would like to get to know him better. Thankfully, he recognized me and we were soon taking the same train going to Queens, which was the 'F,' and we soon surprised ourselves as we were headed to the same directions as we found out we lived one block away from each other. Thinking quickly, I invited him to my building, and suddenly we recognized the need to take action on the attraction that we had for each other. I explained that I live (then) with roommates and I let him in to my tiny bedroom. Nothing happened yet between us at that point. On our way out of my apartment, as it was already becoming late as both of us had to work the next day, we were soon kissing each other on the lips and kept on doing so warmly and intensely. We promised to keep in touch as we exchanged contact numbers. We also kept on kissing each other on the lips as we also groped each other's bodies while waiting for the elevator to come to our floor. It was quick but indeed memorable.
That meeting led to more meetings between us and we would go out to watch Broadway shows together. I would call him the next day and would leave a message, which he returned as soon as he was able to do so. In due time, I was happy being introduced to Broadway culture by someone who moved to NYC precisely to live well and be in the very center of American culture. He would tell me that when he was still a young boy, he pointed out most clearly to his parents that he wanted to move and live in NYC. A Juilliard graduate, he's a musical composer and was then working with a non-profit organization. I would never know why but I would recall having revealed a lot about myself to him, including other stuff that I would now hesitate to share to my closest friends.
With guilt feelings over what I still have in my heart for someone I had lived with for at least 8 years back in the Philippines, I stepped out of my scared feelings and sought out warm company from someone I definitely liked receiving it from. It wasn't difficult to become so involved with him as he's a willing and tireless listener and possessed such a kind hearted personality that I couldn't believe I would meet in NYC. I would just wonder, though, that it was difficult to reach him every now and then. And I had the pleasure of learning that he's from the MidWest and he would go out of his way to interpret and explain the quirks of US culture to someone like me who transplanted himself in the US East Coast. He didn't really explain much, but went out of his way to show me examples so I would better undertand and appreciate better the ins and outs of US culture. For example, we were watching a movie on 'All About Eve' and he would let me watch and note how one of the actors would laugh on screen over hearing that someone's from Wisconsin. I didn't really the get idea at once, but I would later understand the implication, especially because he's from that state.
We went as well to nude yoga sessions, which he introduced to me by way of his invites to me to the nude yoga studio so he would have a ready partner to do certain yoga asanas together. We were in the studio for some sessions, and I would soon be entralled by the benefits of yoga, which I continue to engage into up to the time of this writing. Actually, I would stop for some time in engaging in yoga after he passed on. For awhile, I could not help but recall that he was the one who introduced me to yoga.
Probably, he quickly had an idea that I was then really a tyro in the city. And that he had a Filipino lover before, with whom he was involved with for some time until this guy moved to another state to get married. He would describe the guy to be a young fellow, someone reared up by his grandmother, an attractive Asian man, doing work in the medical field, with problems on pimples on his face, and one who introduced him to Filipino sentimental music and language. Through this boyfriend, he would also be introduced to samples of Filipino food, including pancit and lumpia. He didn't really relish, though, those sweets made from rice flour, I would remember him telling me about what he thought of those food stuff. I knew that he had loved this guy, which knowledge I learned from several conversations with him. I don't think they had been in touch during the last few years of my good friend's life.
He's the first person whom I've known up close and personal who admitted to me that he happened to be a bipolar, and that had to undergo weekly sessions with his therapist. I was taken aback somewhat upon learning this. But I heard early on from my other friends that NYC's full of people who have raging, emotional troubles. I learned about this on him only after over a year of going out with him. Learning that fact about him, I would be able to explain to myself why he would be unreachable from time to time (as in he would not even take my calls, although we had an understanding that we're more than friends).
I think I would still see him in one of those last nude massage meetings in Manhattan before these meetings ended because the long time organizer could not find a reasonably priced location where he could move the event. I didn't really think much about us unexpectedly seeing each other in one of these sessions, although we had been dating each other more often by then. But looking back, I would get surprised by the thought that I should have learned early on and would come handy when it comes to dating with men who were born and raised here in the US. It's important to see this kind of situation from the eyes of an Asian guy like myself who was born and raised back in the Philippines. It would have been a major source of a fight and an exchange of hastily hurled accusations if such a scene happened back in the Philippines between friends who behaved like they've been together and had been intimate with each other. Were we not sufficient for each other's particular needs such that we would still need to go out and find other means to meet them somewhere? I would continue to learn and keep on seeking more learning many other explanations on the dynamics, among other things, of my relationship with him.
He had the chance to sleep one time in my apartment up in Inwood when he had to meet up with his young wards from his job at a nearby school to a weekend culture event, and where he would bring some of them to some places in and out of NYC. I don't recall if we went to bed and had sex that night but we definitely kissed each other before going to sleep as I had to catch my sleep for an early work the next day. I left the apartment before him and left him still in bed that weekend. He would profusely thank me for that as it saved him a lot of travel time from his place in Jackson Heights. Also, I would remember him bringing a busload of his noisy, young and undisciplined wards to Hersheys, Pennsylvania, as well as to Toronto, Canada. He worked hard so that his wards would have the best exposure to works and events on culture and the arts. I once attended an annual musical event that he organized in one of those auditoriums close to the Central Park, where I saw him first hand doing his work for those children who needed to be exposed to the kind of culture that members of the upper elite society of NYC would normally have.
We were together that last night when his much-beloved Mom would breathe her last after a debilitating illness. I recall we watched a Broadway show, and it was a winter night. I would receive a text message from him the next day that he had to rush and get into a flight back to Wisconsin to be with the remains of his Mom who died of cancer. For some months over a period of time, we would meet in his apartment where I would share him my thoughts and the accounts of my own experience from having a Father who died due to lung cancer, which was the same disease that his Mom had.
He would encourage me to move again to Jackson Heights to the same apartment where I used to live, after I told him that I was invited again by my old landlord to consider moving again to the said apartment. He expressed a certain kind of happiness over the possibility that we would be neighbors again, and that we didn't really have to deal about distance (even if most places here in NYC can be reached by public transportation). I would study seriously and would consider to agree to his request but eventually, I would decide to move to another part of the NYC, which was in Chinatown, mainly because I wanted to explore the opportunity that would come with it. I would never know now if he took it personally that I decided against his request.
Looking back, I would have wanted to be more closer to him but he must have deliberately kept distance, mainly because of his sickness, his daily job demands, and his other personal concerns. There would be periods when we won't get in touch with each other, but we would always find ways to catch up with each other whenever certain critical events would happen in our respective lives. I would definitely learn that he would also meet other guys thru online means; I even saw his profile from time to time whenever I would check what had been happening in those sites. We would go out to bars together, drinking and dancing. And I would kiss him on the lips tenderly, and I would recall now that he must have been wondering why I was behaving like I was telling him that we should be more exclusive to each other. I now know that I was being mistaken. We just simply understood each other, and had recognized each other's roles in our respective lives. I know he would tell his therapist about me, too. And I never had the chance to ask him what his therapist had thought about me. Every time I would visit him in his apartment (or every time he would invite me over), we would end up being in bed together, which was almost always wonderful to me. I do hope he had occasions when enjoyed himself as well being with me, which I like to believe he did, as he would come most of the time he and I went to bed together. His queen size bed had satiny-like and very dark-colored, it must have been deep rose in color, sheets, and we must had been in that bed a minimum of at least 30 times. I would particularly remember him on his bed while sleeping in that darkened room, where the form of his body would glisten mainly because of his really pale, white skin.
I would learn much later after he passed on that I was one of the very few people he knew and whom he invited over to his place. One of his sisters knew that I was her brother's boyfriend, which she asked me upon meeting me at the funeral. Except for his relatives or probably those he met online and he had gone to bed with, he never invited people or his other closest friends to visit him in his apartment.
I was the one who convinced him to create a Facebook profile, which he did one evening I was in his place. I gave him instructions on how to go about it; I noticed how surprised and annoyed he was over seeing very familiar faces on Facebook, some of whom he'd rather would not even even deal with in the first place. I didn't really want to ask why as it's not my business. This Facebook profile is the only link I have of him in my social network that still reminds me strongly of a lot of experiences we shared together; I would notice that his profile pic has been removed by someone (most probably upon learning of his death).
Now, I can relate some probable reasons that prompted him to commit suicide. What precipitated the event was the prospect of losing a job that he loved at his last employer. He probably couldn't stand being unemployed again, given the situation of the economy then. He was being asked to teach children, but he definitely would not want to do that, even if he was doing coaching gigs for certain students of music. His direct boss, who talked too much that annoyed him endlessly, threw him into the lions' den, so to speak. During budgeting time, his position was sacrificed so that a more efficient structure in their group would come about following ideas from top ranking officers of the non-profit organization where he worked when I met him. It was a few days after his birthday, which period I would recall brought about heavy rains in NYC, when I would learn he committed suicide from a member of his family who called me at home earlier that grim day to inquire of the last time when got to talk to each other. My friend, during the last few days of his life, was unreachable by me, except for a single text message he sent me in reply to my calls and text messages (which was really nothing new, as he would do that to me, every now and then) -- he promised to be in touch (and I'd known he had been in touch with me, in his own special way, even if I knew from him that he didn't really believe in the afterlife). But I would always appreciate he made sure we'd go out together last time prior to his death; we watched a nice film somewhere in Chelsea; we went to a dinner and ended up having some bottles of beer together in a leather bar somewhere in the same district. Strangely, I would recall now during that last night that we were together that he wore the mien of death on his face, which I inadvertently ignored (who would have thought he'd take his own life? and who would like that to happen to him?).
One of the last few times we went to bed together, he would give me a good rimming, which I only allowed after I had to excuse myself so I could clean that part of me below my stomach and so I won't get embarrassed, just in case. He asked, "Is it that bad?" as we had to break after we had indulged in drinks and food that he prepared himself. I wondered why I had to answer and decided not to respond as I stepped out from his huge lounge chair to excuse myself to the bathroom set next to the wall upon which the chair was placed. After going back, what followed and happened between us was certainly so memorable as I recall having to ask him to fuck me, which he did and he used his fingers to penetrate me.
Showing posts with label men having sex with other men. Show all posts
Showing posts with label men having sex with other men. Show all posts
Open Relationships I've Kept, That Have Disappointed Me & Have Evolved in Time
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.
This accounts to the best of my recollection some of the details of a journey, among many, I had in this relationship that I supposed was an open relationship in most of its angles, and has been a loving, mutually respectful one at that. And I had this with someone whom I've considered to be a good friend and whom I've met the first time after he called me to come over to his place to give him a whole body massage, of the more sexual variety because something like it always happens in these kinds of transactions (with certain exceptions) when I still used to actively do massages (a set of skills I learned hands-on from having massaged at least 100 men when I was still attending men's nude massage events in Manhattan years ago), as a practical way to make ends meet during my first few years in New York City (NYC). Consider it, also, that a lot of the memories I have managed to recall and shared here could have been partly erroneous by the time I've managed to write them down here. Readers should beware, including those who may think they're cited here one way or another.
This friend responded to my postings then on Craigslist.org where I would offer my massage services as one of the viable ways to make a living by choosing deliberately not to do full time jobs and after I've stopped looking for job opportunities actively. Of course, these first few meetings between my friend and myself were far from the ideal and readers would normally have not-so-pleasing thoughts about such transactions and activities that happen all the time in a very normal business manner in major and big cities like NYC. The service I would provide him would end up with happy endings, and with him telling me and directing me even one time to just do what I wanted to do (most probably so that I could have fun as well and not merely doing some paid service). And I would always remember him because I like the way he looks, being tall, hairy and lean, and even if he's not at all a looker if compared with the most physically good-looking guys I've met and seen here in NYC todate. In this special case, the looks would have not mattered at all. It's been his interesting character that's always curious for something about knowing more of other cultures.
During one of those conversations as we went about the usual procedures during these massage sessions, I also remember that he would open up about his failed relationship with another Filipino guy whom he has met and fallen in love with when they were still much younger (I'm assuming here that he has really fallen deeply in love with that guy, which I could not confirm first hand because I never had the chance to meet with that guy). Eventually, as we became lovers as well, I would actually tease him about this other Filipino guy that "he is your other lover." At the risk of revealing very private information that does not necessarily have to be shared unwittingly to others but should remain extremely private, I'm still taking the chance to share them here. And in the process of doing so, enable myself to move on from these sets of memories I have on loving, sad, fulfilling and devastating experiences I had shared with this interesting fellow. Also, the point of sharing this story is for myself to continue learning from those experiences and become a better person in the process, if I happened to find myself in similar situations. I know I'll keep on loving as long as I am living, and I'll be meeting so many other people who would find themselves in the same pathway as I am now. And I've taken the opportunity to share these recollections here as I don't have any idea if something like this will ever happen to me again.
After those massage calls that would happen every now and then, I would come and meet again this fellow in a gathering of a group in one of those rooms at the LGBT Center in Manhattan. Doing some kind of a volunteer service to the group, he was then out of job, after having been fired from his job where he probably stayed for many years. When I approached him, he certainly would give me a nice smile, with bright and curious eyes, and remember me. And we would start dating constantly after that meeting where we made sure we exchanged contact numbers. I remember I gave him my business card, and I would see that businesscard on his dining table the next time I was invited to his place. In the following meetings, we would meet up in coffeeshops and at the LGBT Center, and would often end up in his apartment and in engaging in the most physical and intimate activities we could do with each other. I would figure out how to deal with him as a lover, considering that I still have a long term relationship with a partner based in the Philippines, which relationship's been in the hanging situation mainly because he won't consider moving here in the USA. The meetings my friend and I had were really most pleasurable as far I was concerned ---I do hope he enjoyed himself that much, too. And I would recall how those sexual encounters that took place between us would stop eventually for some uncertain reasons that would confound me for some time. And still, I persisted in keeping a space for him in my heart, mainly because I like him really as a person.
Except on certain occasions during this open relationship that must have lasted for nearly two years or so, our conversations have always been mostly fun, mostly honest, engaging and very interesting. I think I made the terrible mistake of having not clarified nor talked with him about my understanding that we were having an open relationship, a sort of a no-strings-attached set-up. In fact, I would remember the many times that he had to remind me that I had been keeping him too long on the phone as I would usually be motivated to just tell him whatever was coming out my mind, details on whatever was happening in my life, whenever we engage in phone talks. Both of us being essentially well-read, outgoing and always curious, we would cover a range of topics, including politics, travel, cultures, business, finance, relationships, sex, among others. I would even tell one very good friend of mine that this fellow has remained being very interesting to me essentially because we could talk and cover a lot of topics in our conversations.
And my ex-lover said once in one of those earliest meetings we had after we saw each other at the LGBT Center: "I have to learn to invite you to come over to my place, or else nothing else will really happen at all," as he would take the risk of inviting me over to his place, and gain the confidence by practicing what other experts have been advising others when it comes to dating and meeting new people. He must have realized sooner or later that he has to learn so much from developing relationships himself so that he'd grow as a person. That also means he's realizing, just like me one time or another, that anything worthy has to be asked for and it won't come to you at all unless it's being asked to come for you to grab, hold or keep. From this meeting on, I would learn to start accepting him as he really was as a person then and someone I've come to know better for a few years as of this writing. Just like me, I've learned that he's really a complex guy as I would go out of my way to appreciate and accept someone who's trying to make a significant living here in NYC, where you could easily meet anyone anytime just like having pleasant-to-look-at eye-candies before so many storefronts all over the city.
Among other interests he's got and been actively pursuing, he's a devoted nudist, which didn't really matter to me personally. I would also learn he's also not that keen to work harder than needed as he has other personal interests to pursue; he probably would like to keep his energy intact for other activities than doing the work that he needs to do today on a 9-5 work schedule and typical among full time job holders. I'd learned from him and would be reminded constantly that a job serves a certain practical purpose from the way he would tell me that he'd 'regretfully' go to work the next day. I would usually disagree with him on this approach but would soon accept it as his way of dealing with the nature and value of work in a society like that found in the East Coast of the USA. I usually won't look at my paid jobs in the manner that he looks at his job, as I've seen having jobs as an important ingredient in accomplishing the goals I've set in my life. Paid work has to be seen something fulfilling and sacred if you will, with the way I look at it after having done many years of Human Resources related work. He's got that very practical outlook when it comes to doing jobs, which I must have soon acquired as I've continued looking at how I make a living here in NYC. Nothing really personal exists when it comes to dealing with jobs for most people here in NYC, not even sentimental notions. You're just taken as a cog so that the complex economic processes of supply and demand would continue moving forward and be constantly oiled to meet the needs and wants of those who are in and around the market.
A few months after we met, he finally got a job, which he took as he saw it as his chance again to do paid work. I would remember his anxiety over accepting this job with a European-owned company somewhere in Wall Street. He was complaining that he had to acquiesce to a big pay cut so that he could get a paid job soonest. Looking at him seated on his dining chair, I saw him being really anxious as he continued to explain his situation to me, which I would have not done to anybody close to me as such, as such level of anxiety I had seen often during job interviews during my career doing Human Resources work.
He would not last long in that job mainly because he was not getting paid that well according to his standards and was doing a job that he didn't really care much about. Also, he's getting anxious over not being able to earn well the way he used to have, which situation can always be difficult to most about anyone. But I would always remember him as one of those who's able to save and invest his earnings, which I would admire about him. He confidently told me that can manage to live off from the earnings of his investments even for a year or so of being unemployed. And that's one of the things that makes him a very desirable, prospective long term partner, which I do hope I can always emulate, become one and do much better in my own terms. Of course, I didn't see any actual figures on these incomes he's been paid for. But I've seen how he's bought and invested in an apartment in Queens, how he has kept a nice car, and how he leads the life he wants to pursue. I would take time to encourage him in his life situation then and be supportive of his efforts, which I hope he recognized. He would be moving to another job as soon as he got the next better chance to do so, which I know has made him a lot happier as a person.
Without me telling too many unwanted details here other than those I've already accounted so far, I would hear bad things from him about how he thought of me during one occasion. He would soon realize that I was in a much more poorer economic condition than he was; I would remember him telling me a lot of very revealing thoughts he had of me one time we met at the Grand Central Station with him being so drunk after a meeting with one of his friends and one of those weekend events he loved going to. I don't know nor remember if he let me bring him to his apartment that night. But I would tell him the next day that I heard certain things from him that I would rather not learn about from him, and he must have realized what he had done and would apologize to me in his usual kind, sincere manner. I've forgiven him for the slurs. But in the course of the relationship, I gradually realized how he really values the role of money in leading the kind of life you desire for yourself and in being able to earn a living in a more regular way that most people around would continue doing in a much changed world in this part of the USA.
I could have taken those points seriously to heart and learned to realize sooner that he would really have a hard time understanding and appreciating my efforts to lead a more creative and entrepreneurial life. But, apparently, I haven't and was foolish enough to consider being in what I figured out to be a loving relationship with him. And that's mainly because he has other wonderful qualities as a person. In having worked full time in the corporate world doing mainly Human Resources work that entails keeping so many critical information confidential, I'd learn to keep most things about my finances to myself and would never tell him much about how I make a living here in NYC, mainly because I know those details would bother him especially if they're not really positive as he would expect them to be. I think he has strong and well founded ideas about how I had been coping with daily in my own life but he won't go out of his way to ask me about them. I now realize that the effects of that approach I took could have been one of those strong reasons why he would eventually lose interest in pursuing a long-term, a more significant relationship with me, or in working together with me to bring the relationship on a higher level.
The relationship, without myself clarifying details to more appropriately describe it (as they would be very revealing and would unnecessarily bring about bad memories to all parties concerned here), was open in so many ways than one, without us talking and agreeing about it. I know he would go to nude events anywhere in the city; he was open to the idea of myself attending such events but I chose not to do so. Those events are not at all cheap and he told me nothing explicitly sexual happens there, which I will have to probably verify one of these days. I like to believe these meetings involving naked men are not even erotic. It's one of those meet ups where guys could relate with each other without their usual clothes on, and I can imagine such events can be mentally and emotionally liberating. I think what he said to me was true because I had another good friend who showed up one time in one of those regular events but he was asked not to come back again as he started having sex with someone, which prompted others to join them and be engaged in group sex.
I would also learn that my ex-lover would go to nudist camps by himself or with his friends. I didn't really think much about these events even if he told me one time that he'd fooled around with someone in one of those many occasions that he was in the camp, which almost always happen during the summer. And I know that he could have been getting in touch with other guys through Craigslist and would ask them to give him massages or something else for a fee. I would remember also that he told me once that I was actually "doing a good job providing massages," which I took more as a compliment than anything else. I would never know if he would tell our other common friends and acquaintances about the fact that we first met each other in a commercial massage-providing situation. And I know, just like what he knows very well about me when it comes to this common habit we share, that he watches porn whenever he's got the chance. I remember that he would have wanted both of us to video some of those sexual activities that we used to do together, but which I haven't have the motivation to agree and do so. The actual sex stopped soon even before I was ready to be inspired to allow myself to be pictured while engaged in sex. As such, given all these details, both of us can't really accuse each other of infidelity as such won't hold water and would make each of us look stupid and ridiculous.
We probably lost our common pathway together as lovers from the accumulation of setbacks and disappointments that we would experience during times when we were together and during periods when would not keep in touch with each other. Among many other issues, I think I'm guilty of having failed to keep regular contact with him, which he must have taken badly especially during a conversation with another friend where I blurted out that I "don't really go out of my way to call people because I'm usually busy." I realize that he has been trying to understand and know me better but those occasions where he could gather more significant facts about me would happen during meetings and conversations with other friends around. I would not really know if he was actively looking for ways for us to be together more often because I never asked to be clarified about such issues with him. He probably thought and have felt I was taking him for granted. I probably have given him the wrong impression that he could freely do his own thing, pursue his life and basically leave me alone with my life, and for both of us to just go about with the open relationship that we were having. And that we would continue until something more significant takes place along the way, which would eventually do.
I know he told me months before I finally understood that I've lost him after he said something about that regular dating he's been having with another guy, which I would learn from him over the phone. Now I would recall a number of phonetalks that we had that I should have paid more attention to but I miserably ignored and failed. I heard him tell me about how he's getting scared listening to what that other guy was telling him about their growing relationship, which to him sounded very serious. And I just kept mum about a lot of things I had in mind during that particular talk and I actually ignored much of it. I was thinking I still have him as a lover, mainly because of the open relationship set up we had (which, again, we didn't really talk and agree about; I would just understand the relationship as such). And I was thinking it's one of those things that normally happen between lovers or probably I was then being concerned at the back of my mind about so many other priorities in my list.
One Saturday, I would join him and another friend at the Eagle's Bar in Manhattan. He has told me about the bar before in one of our phone conversations; I had been there one time during some Folsom-related events in the East Coast. He even told me about how he was there one time wearing his leather harness, probably cruising around, but he got so drunk and was soon disappointed the next day over how he behaved himself. During that Saturday when we were there, we were fooling with and around others who were roaming and walking in the enclosed cruising area. But later in the evening, I remember feeling his hands touching me in ways I recognized were tender, foolish, loving and caressing, which were exactly want I needed from him and I knew he has always known of my desires because I've always told him about those thoughts every time we were in bed together. We would also kiss each other on the lips, but I would remember they were somewhat different from the kissing situations we've had before. He wasn't really massaging me at all at those parts where his hands landed on the back of my body. Gleefully, I felt we were flirting again with each other, which we have not done so for some time then. He would do that at least 4 times during that night. I took those signs as if he's inviting me again to come to his bed again and enjoy ourselves together, but which I never had the chance to tell him personally. I recall he was also drunk then, which was the same case with me. We would never talk about it in the succeeding meetings we had. And I would be having difficulties recovering from the pleasure of recollecting how I had enjoyed the wonderful, positive feelings during that night, even if I was drunk myself. I would remember them precisely because I felt so good and was wondering about their significance to myself, and was always trying to drown myself from my life pains by imbibing in alcohol. I also remember the many times when my ex-lover and I would talk on the phone about times when we were away from each other and would get drunk with others. He knew I would get drunk especially when I would go out with friends who would invite me over to their places. And he would reveal to me as well those times when he would get drunk himself. I have failed to realize how lonely our respective lives must have been, even if we would continue being with others.
Gradually, I have been realizing a lot of truths and untruths about this failed relationship I had with this ex-lover who I like to believe will remain to be one of my best friends for the rest of my life, even if he made me feel so devastated one time. I would go on many hours when I was up and about and doing a lot of thinking about what went wrong that had led to the termination of the relationship. Of course, the main reason was that he had been dating someone regularly for the past months so there's really no point in keeping my presence around him whenever he's in search for something that he believes his current lover could provide him. I can only wish for the best for both of them. In the meantime, I've continued to move on with my life and its so many wonderful possibilities.
He's got in own brand of sweetness and so many acts of kindness that he's displayed to me often times, and which I must have ignored and have taken for granted for the most part (because I was so serious with my own concerns in life). He would give me a birthday card on my birthday the first year we were together, and which surprised me so much as he inscribed it in his unique, personal way. He would probably say giving a birthday card is really much at all. He would remind me to constantly be safe in our practices especially when it comes to doing anal positions while in bed together. He would buy my book without me asking him to get a copy for himself, and he would find time to read it, which he could have spent on his other interests. And he would even give me the favor of writing a brief review on it on Amazon.com; I'm actually very surprised but very grateful that he has done all these bothersome, time consuming tasks for me. Among many other things he has done for me, he would also offer his help every time I tell him about some projects I'm working on. He would even offer to drive his car and make use of it to move stuff I've been accumulating in my place. During those periods when I would still get to sleep over in his place, he would bother to get up and provide for coffee, orange juice or some other food items that I could have before I go out of his place and venture to complete my activities for the day. He would even bother to collect books he'd seen being thrown away by other tenants in his apartment building; he would give me the books he's decided he'd like to get rid off. He'd even keep and give me copies of magazines that I told him would still get sold through the online storefronts that I've been growing and making very good business from.
He would even invite me to join him in his nude events out of town, which I would not bother to accept mainly because I couldn't afford them or I was doing some part-time jobs. He would even find ways to watch plays and stage shows with me because he understood that I like watching those types of shows; I would remember watching at least 3 live shows with him in different locations in the city. He would also consider doing dancing with me as soon as I got myself active in square dancing, which he thought he could also do. He would introduce me to several of his friends, which efforts on his part I have come to really appreciate. During an outdoor trip, he would even tell me that I should have kept him up by waking him up during that very cold night when I was unable to sleep due to the seething freezing conditions inside that tent and because I was stupid enough not to bring my own sleeping bag somewhere in the middle of New Jersey. He would even join me in watching the annual Ms. Universe Pageant shows on TV with other friends for two years on a row; I could see that he was really enjoying himself being with me during these occasions. I would really appreciate the wonderful feelings he made me feel during the period when we're together more as lovers than friends.
I've come to realize, too, that he could have considered getting into a regular dating set-up with me mainly because I'm also a Filipino like that guy whom he has fallen in love with for so long. Most likely, he would fall for that guy with such intensity that he would even visit the Philippines at least twice with him. I would recall how he would share me some details about that other Filipino guy during sessions when I would show up to give him massages. But the relationship between them probably went cold again and I like to believe that they have not been in touch again for some period of time as of this writing. Who would really know? I don't think it's my business to ask about details on their relationship, which is the same attitude I have about my ex-lover's current and constant date and companion these days. It's really out of my business, and I won't be asking for those details at all unless he opens up about those things with me one of these days.
I'm grateful for his candidness toward me when I asked him during that phone talk about why he won't invite me anymore to come over and for us to be intimate again. He would tell me that he's been dating someone regularly and so there would be no need for him to invite me. I was taken aback somewhat and would linger for some time in the hurt feelings I had upon hearing those words. He was in a way telling me in his own way that I no longer was good enough for him, such that he won't even consider getting both of us on a date and probably do something more intimate together. I would begin to understand why he won't respond as much as I wanted him to be interested in me whenever I would tell him that I've been missing him (he would say one time that it's because we've not been seeing each other as we used to do just like months before). I tried to redirect the intensity of the feelings I had upon hearing from him as he would tell me those words by making use of what I thought about the annoying feelings I was having over the Mainstream Plus Dance lessons we were both into earlier that particular night. He's not really into me anymore, and that's going to be the case until the next time we both decide that we could go on dating and becoming intimate with each other again on some other occasion. Who would really know?
And I would always cherish his presence in my life especially because he made me believe that I could go back to falling in love again and being comfortable with the thought, after having been away from something similar with someone who's decided he can't be following me here in the USA. I had a rather similar experience when another friend and I were in an intimate, a-sort-of-an-open relationship until this particular fellow committed suicide; his sudden, unexpected death totally knocked me out of my usual happy wits and well established beliefs about the value of preserving one's life as long as possible. But with this particular ex-lover, I had experienced being bluntly turned away, the effects of which I had to deal with shamefacedly in the next few instances that we would meet again as we were going to some common events with other friends. He would still treat me in his own sweet way but I knew he'd been relieved to have finally got rid of me, at least in more affectionate and intimate terms. This ex-lover probably would still remember that I have this relationship that is technically more on hold than real all these past years that I've been here in NYC. Don is still in the Philippines and I doubt if he would ever consider getting a US visa so he could visit me here. I have a feeling that we'll get to see each other again as soon as I decide to visit the Philippines. The relationship between Don and myself has not been moving forward and is frozen somewhere in the frigid clouds up in the atmosphere as we're physically separated by thousands of miles in distance.
I like to believe that this ex-lover of mine took the effort to accept me as to who I was then and must have over-extended himself in the process after getting to know me better in time. I wasn't turning into someone he wanted me to be, in so many ways than one. And I believe he's always known about those things I get into myself every time I meet out with people, as I'm basically happy when I'm with other people. He couldn't confront me about them mainly because he, probably, would prefer not to know about them, unless I volunteer to tell him about them. He's told me "it's really up to you, Jerome" when I was askingme him if he wanted to know about those people I've been involved with. I would realize that he would turn out to be not bothered at all by my getting intimately involved with others by the time we had that very significant phone talk. He must have had his fill of me when we were still together as lovers. I just wonder but still am excited now on how we'll go about being very good friends together in the long term, if we get to something like that in time. Let's see how the directions of life will lead us to. Let's all move on now.
This accounts to the best of my recollection some of the details of a journey, among many, I had in this relationship that I supposed was an open relationship in most of its angles, and has been a loving, mutually respectful one at that. And I had this with someone whom I've considered to be a good friend and whom I've met the first time after he called me to come over to his place to give him a whole body massage, of the more sexual variety because something like it always happens in these kinds of transactions (with certain exceptions) when I still used to actively do massages (a set of skills I learned hands-on from having massaged at least 100 men when I was still attending men's nude massage events in Manhattan years ago), as a practical way to make ends meet during my first few years in New York City (NYC). Consider it, also, that a lot of the memories I have managed to recall and shared here could have been partly erroneous by the time I've managed to write them down here. Readers should beware, including those who may think they're cited here one way or another.
This friend responded to my postings then on Craigslist.org where I would offer my massage services as one of the viable ways to make a living by choosing deliberately not to do full time jobs and after I've stopped looking for job opportunities actively. Of course, these first few meetings between my friend and myself were far from the ideal and readers would normally have not-so-pleasing thoughts about such transactions and activities that happen all the time in a very normal business manner in major and big cities like NYC. The service I would provide him would end up with happy endings, and with him telling me and directing me even one time to just do what I wanted to do (most probably so that I could have fun as well and not merely doing some paid service). And I would always remember him because I like the way he looks, being tall, hairy and lean, and even if he's not at all a looker if compared with the most physically good-looking guys I've met and seen here in NYC todate. In this special case, the looks would have not mattered at all. It's been his interesting character that's always curious for something about knowing more of other cultures.
During one of those conversations as we went about the usual procedures during these massage sessions, I also remember that he would open up about his failed relationship with another Filipino guy whom he has met and fallen in love with when they were still much younger (I'm assuming here that he has really fallen deeply in love with that guy, which I could not confirm first hand because I never had the chance to meet with that guy). Eventually, as we became lovers as well, I would actually tease him about this other Filipino guy that "he is your other lover." At the risk of revealing very private information that does not necessarily have to be shared unwittingly to others but should remain extremely private, I'm still taking the chance to share them here. And in the process of doing so, enable myself to move on from these sets of memories I have on loving, sad, fulfilling and devastating experiences I had shared with this interesting fellow. Also, the point of sharing this story is for myself to continue learning from those experiences and become a better person in the process, if I happened to find myself in similar situations. I know I'll keep on loving as long as I am living, and I'll be meeting so many other people who would find themselves in the same pathway as I am now. And I've taken the opportunity to share these recollections here as I don't have any idea if something like this will ever happen to me again.
After those massage calls that would happen every now and then, I would come and meet again this fellow in a gathering of a group in one of those rooms at the LGBT Center in Manhattan. Doing some kind of a volunteer service to the group, he was then out of job, after having been fired from his job where he probably stayed for many years. When I approached him, he certainly would give me a nice smile, with bright and curious eyes, and remember me. And we would start dating constantly after that meeting where we made sure we exchanged contact numbers. I remember I gave him my business card, and I would see that businesscard on his dining table the next time I was invited to his place. In the following meetings, we would meet up in coffeeshops and at the LGBT Center, and would often end up in his apartment and in engaging in the most physical and intimate activities we could do with each other. I would figure out how to deal with him as a lover, considering that I still have a long term relationship with a partner based in the Philippines, which relationship's been in the hanging situation mainly because he won't consider moving here in the USA. The meetings my friend and I had were really most pleasurable as far I was concerned ---I do hope he enjoyed himself that much, too. And I would recall how those sexual encounters that took place between us would stop eventually for some uncertain reasons that would confound me for some time. And still, I persisted in keeping a space for him in my heart, mainly because I like him really as a person.
Except on certain occasions during this open relationship that must have lasted for nearly two years or so, our conversations have always been mostly fun, mostly honest, engaging and very interesting. I think I made the terrible mistake of having not clarified nor talked with him about my understanding that we were having an open relationship, a sort of a no-strings-attached set-up. In fact, I would remember the many times that he had to remind me that I had been keeping him too long on the phone as I would usually be motivated to just tell him whatever was coming out my mind, details on whatever was happening in my life, whenever we engage in phone talks. Both of us being essentially well-read, outgoing and always curious, we would cover a range of topics, including politics, travel, cultures, business, finance, relationships, sex, among others. I would even tell one very good friend of mine that this fellow has remained being very interesting to me essentially because we could talk and cover a lot of topics in our conversations.
And my ex-lover said once in one of those earliest meetings we had after we saw each other at the LGBT Center: "I have to learn to invite you to come over to my place, or else nothing else will really happen at all," as he would take the risk of inviting me over to his place, and gain the confidence by practicing what other experts have been advising others when it comes to dating and meeting new people. He must have realized sooner or later that he has to learn so much from developing relationships himself so that he'd grow as a person. That also means he's realizing, just like me one time or another, that anything worthy has to be asked for and it won't come to you at all unless it's being asked to come for you to grab, hold or keep. From this meeting on, I would learn to start accepting him as he really was as a person then and someone I've come to know better for a few years as of this writing. Just like me, I've learned that he's really a complex guy as I would go out of my way to appreciate and accept someone who's trying to make a significant living here in NYC, where you could easily meet anyone anytime just like having pleasant-to-look-at eye-candies before so many storefronts all over the city.
Among other interests he's got and been actively pursuing, he's a devoted nudist, which didn't really matter to me personally. I would also learn he's also not that keen to work harder than needed as he has other personal interests to pursue; he probably would like to keep his energy intact for other activities than doing the work that he needs to do today on a 9-5 work schedule and typical among full time job holders. I'd learned from him and would be reminded constantly that a job serves a certain practical purpose from the way he would tell me that he'd 'regretfully' go to work the next day. I would usually disagree with him on this approach but would soon accept it as his way of dealing with the nature and value of work in a society like that found in the East Coast of the USA. I usually won't look at my paid jobs in the manner that he looks at his job, as I've seen having jobs as an important ingredient in accomplishing the goals I've set in my life. Paid work has to be seen something fulfilling and sacred if you will, with the way I look at it after having done many years of Human Resources related work. He's got that very practical outlook when it comes to doing jobs, which I must have soon acquired as I've continued looking at how I make a living here in NYC. Nothing really personal exists when it comes to dealing with jobs for most people here in NYC, not even sentimental notions. You're just taken as a cog so that the complex economic processes of supply and demand would continue moving forward and be constantly oiled to meet the needs and wants of those who are in and around the market.
A few months after we met, he finally got a job, which he took as he saw it as his chance again to do paid work. I would remember his anxiety over accepting this job with a European-owned company somewhere in Wall Street. He was complaining that he had to acquiesce to a big pay cut so that he could get a paid job soonest. Looking at him seated on his dining chair, I saw him being really anxious as he continued to explain his situation to me, which I would have not done to anybody close to me as such, as such level of anxiety I had seen often during job interviews during my career doing Human Resources work.
He would not last long in that job mainly because he was not getting paid that well according to his standards and was doing a job that he didn't really care much about. Also, he's getting anxious over not being able to earn well the way he used to have, which situation can always be difficult to most about anyone. But I would always remember him as one of those who's able to save and invest his earnings, which I would admire about him. He confidently told me that can manage to live off from the earnings of his investments even for a year or so of being unemployed. And that's one of the things that makes him a very desirable, prospective long term partner, which I do hope I can always emulate, become one and do much better in my own terms. Of course, I didn't see any actual figures on these incomes he's been paid for. But I've seen how he's bought and invested in an apartment in Queens, how he has kept a nice car, and how he leads the life he wants to pursue. I would take time to encourage him in his life situation then and be supportive of his efforts, which I hope he recognized. He would be moving to another job as soon as he got the next better chance to do so, which I know has made him a lot happier as a person.
Without me telling too many unwanted details here other than those I've already accounted so far, I would hear bad things from him about how he thought of me during one occasion. He would soon realize that I was in a much more poorer economic condition than he was; I would remember him telling me a lot of very revealing thoughts he had of me one time we met at the Grand Central Station with him being so drunk after a meeting with one of his friends and one of those weekend events he loved going to. I don't know nor remember if he let me bring him to his apartment that night. But I would tell him the next day that I heard certain things from him that I would rather not learn about from him, and he must have realized what he had done and would apologize to me in his usual kind, sincere manner. I've forgiven him for the slurs. But in the course of the relationship, I gradually realized how he really values the role of money in leading the kind of life you desire for yourself and in being able to earn a living in a more regular way that most people around would continue doing in a much changed world in this part of the USA.
I could have taken those points seriously to heart and learned to realize sooner that he would really have a hard time understanding and appreciating my efforts to lead a more creative and entrepreneurial life. But, apparently, I haven't and was foolish enough to consider being in what I figured out to be a loving relationship with him. And that's mainly because he has other wonderful qualities as a person. In having worked full time in the corporate world doing mainly Human Resources work that entails keeping so many critical information confidential, I'd learn to keep most things about my finances to myself and would never tell him much about how I make a living here in NYC, mainly because I know those details would bother him especially if they're not really positive as he would expect them to be. I think he has strong and well founded ideas about how I had been coping with daily in my own life but he won't go out of his way to ask me about them. I now realize that the effects of that approach I took could have been one of those strong reasons why he would eventually lose interest in pursuing a long-term, a more significant relationship with me, or in working together with me to bring the relationship on a higher level.
The relationship, without myself clarifying details to more appropriately describe it (as they would be very revealing and would unnecessarily bring about bad memories to all parties concerned here), was open in so many ways than one, without us talking and agreeing about it. I know he would go to nude events anywhere in the city; he was open to the idea of myself attending such events but I chose not to do so. Those events are not at all cheap and he told me nothing explicitly sexual happens there, which I will have to probably verify one of these days. I like to believe these meetings involving naked men are not even erotic. It's one of those meet ups where guys could relate with each other without their usual clothes on, and I can imagine such events can be mentally and emotionally liberating. I think what he said to me was true because I had another good friend who showed up one time in one of those regular events but he was asked not to come back again as he started having sex with someone, which prompted others to join them and be engaged in group sex.
I would also learn that my ex-lover would go to nudist camps by himself or with his friends. I didn't really think much about these events even if he told me one time that he'd fooled around with someone in one of those many occasions that he was in the camp, which almost always happen during the summer. And I know that he could have been getting in touch with other guys through Craigslist and would ask them to give him massages or something else for a fee. I would remember also that he told me once that I was actually "doing a good job providing massages," which I took more as a compliment than anything else. I would never know if he would tell our other common friends and acquaintances about the fact that we first met each other in a commercial massage-providing situation. And I know, just like what he knows very well about me when it comes to this common habit we share, that he watches porn whenever he's got the chance. I remember that he would have wanted both of us to video some of those sexual activities that we used to do together, but which I haven't have the motivation to agree and do so. The actual sex stopped soon even before I was ready to be inspired to allow myself to be pictured while engaged in sex. As such, given all these details, both of us can't really accuse each other of infidelity as such won't hold water and would make each of us look stupid and ridiculous.
We probably lost our common pathway together as lovers from the accumulation of setbacks and disappointments that we would experience during times when we were together and during periods when would not keep in touch with each other. Among many other issues, I think I'm guilty of having failed to keep regular contact with him, which he must have taken badly especially during a conversation with another friend where I blurted out that I "don't really go out of my way to call people because I'm usually busy." I realize that he has been trying to understand and know me better but those occasions where he could gather more significant facts about me would happen during meetings and conversations with other friends around. I would not really know if he was actively looking for ways for us to be together more often because I never asked to be clarified about such issues with him. He probably thought and have felt I was taking him for granted. I probably have given him the wrong impression that he could freely do his own thing, pursue his life and basically leave me alone with my life, and for both of us to just go about with the open relationship that we were having. And that we would continue until something more significant takes place along the way, which would eventually do.
I know he told me months before I finally understood that I've lost him after he said something about that regular dating he's been having with another guy, which I would learn from him over the phone. Now I would recall a number of phonetalks that we had that I should have paid more attention to but I miserably ignored and failed. I heard him tell me about how he's getting scared listening to what that other guy was telling him about their growing relationship, which to him sounded very serious. And I just kept mum about a lot of things I had in mind during that particular talk and I actually ignored much of it. I was thinking I still have him as a lover, mainly because of the open relationship set up we had (which, again, we didn't really talk and agree about; I would just understand the relationship as such). And I was thinking it's one of those things that normally happen between lovers or probably I was then being concerned at the back of my mind about so many other priorities in my list.
One Saturday, I would join him and another friend at the Eagle's Bar in Manhattan. He has told me about the bar before in one of our phone conversations; I had been there one time during some Folsom-related events in the East Coast. He even told me about how he was there one time wearing his leather harness, probably cruising around, but he got so drunk and was soon disappointed the next day over how he behaved himself. During that Saturday when we were there, we were fooling with and around others who were roaming and walking in the enclosed cruising area. But later in the evening, I remember feeling his hands touching me in ways I recognized were tender, foolish, loving and caressing, which were exactly want I needed from him and I knew he has always known of my desires because I've always told him about those thoughts every time we were in bed together. We would also kiss each other on the lips, but I would remember they were somewhat different from the kissing situations we've had before. He wasn't really massaging me at all at those parts where his hands landed on the back of my body. Gleefully, I felt we were flirting again with each other, which we have not done so for some time then. He would do that at least 4 times during that night. I took those signs as if he's inviting me again to come to his bed again and enjoy ourselves together, but which I never had the chance to tell him personally. I recall he was also drunk then, which was the same case with me. We would never talk about it in the succeeding meetings we had. And I would be having difficulties recovering from the pleasure of recollecting how I had enjoyed the wonderful, positive feelings during that night, even if I was drunk myself. I would remember them precisely because I felt so good and was wondering about their significance to myself, and was always trying to drown myself from my life pains by imbibing in alcohol. I also remember the many times when my ex-lover and I would talk on the phone about times when we were away from each other and would get drunk with others. He knew I would get drunk especially when I would go out with friends who would invite me over to their places. And he would reveal to me as well those times when he would get drunk himself. I have failed to realize how lonely our respective lives must have been, even if we would continue being with others.
Gradually, I have been realizing a lot of truths and untruths about this failed relationship I had with this ex-lover who I like to believe will remain to be one of my best friends for the rest of my life, even if he made me feel so devastated one time. I would go on many hours when I was up and about and doing a lot of thinking about what went wrong that had led to the termination of the relationship. Of course, the main reason was that he had been dating someone regularly for the past months so there's really no point in keeping my presence around him whenever he's in search for something that he believes his current lover could provide him. I can only wish for the best for both of them. In the meantime, I've continued to move on with my life and its so many wonderful possibilities.
He's got in own brand of sweetness and so many acts of kindness that he's displayed to me often times, and which I must have ignored and have taken for granted for the most part (because I was so serious with my own concerns in life). He would give me a birthday card on my birthday the first year we were together, and which surprised me so much as he inscribed it in his unique, personal way. He would probably say giving a birthday card is really much at all. He would remind me to constantly be safe in our practices especially when it comes to doing anal positions while in bed together. He would buy my book without me asking him to get a copy for himself, and he would find time to read it, which he could have spent on his other interests. And he would even give me the favor of writing a brief review on it on Amazon.com; I'm actually very surprised but very grateful that he has done all these bothersome, time consuming tasks for me. Among many other things he has done for me, he would also offer his help every time I tell him about some projects I'm working on. He would even offer to drive his car and make use of it to move stuff I've been accumulating in my place. During those periods when I would still get to sleep over in his place, he would bother to get up and provide for coffee, orange juice or some other food items that I could have before I go out of his place and venture to complete my activities for the day. He would even bother to collect books he'd seen being thrown away by other tenants in his apartment building; he would give me the books he's decided he'd like to get rid off. He'd even keep and give me copies of magazines that I told him would still get sold through the online storefronts that I've been growing and making very good business from.
He would even invite me to join him in his nude events out of town, which I would not bother to accept mainly because I couldn't afford them or I was doing some part-time jobs. He would even find ways to watch plays and stage shows with me because he understood that I like watching those types of shows; I would remember watching at least 3 live shows with him in different locations in the city. He would also consider doing dancing with me as soon as I got myself active in square dancing, which he thought he could also do. He would introduce me to several of his friends, which efforts on his part I have come to really appreciate. During an outdoor trip, he would even tell me that I should have kept him up by waking him up during that very cold night when I was unable to sleep due to the seething freezing conditions inside that tent and because I was stupid enough not to bring my own sleeping bag somewhere in the middle of New Jersey. He would even join me in watching the annual Ms. Universe Pageant shows on TV with other friends for two years on a row; I could see that he was really enjoying himself being with me during these occasions. I would really appreciate the wonderful feelings he made me feel during the period when we're together more as lovers than friends.
I've come to realize, too, that he could have considered getting into a regular dating set-up with me mainly because I'm also a Filipino like that guy whom he has fallen in love with for so long. Most likely, he would fall for that guy with such intensity that he would even visit the Philippines at least twice with him. I would recall how he would share me some details about that other Filipino guy during sessions when I would show up to give him massages. But the relationship between them probably went cold again and I like to believe that they have not been in touch again for some period of time as of this writing. Who would really know? I don't think it's my business to ask about details on their relationship, which is the same attitude I have about my ex-lover's current and constant date and companion these days. It's really out of my business, and I won't be asking for those details at all unless he opens up about those things with me one of these days.
I'm grateful for his candidness toward me when I asked him during that phone talk about why he won't invite me anymore to come over and for us to be intimate again. He would tell me that he's been dating someone regularly and so there would be no need for him to invite me. I was taken aback somewhat and would linger for some time in the hurt feelings I had upon hearing those words. He was in a way telling me in his own way that I no longer was good enough for him, such that he won't even consider getting both of us on a date and probably do something more intimate together. I would begin to understand why he won't respond as much as I wanted him to be interested in me whenever I would tell him that I've been missing him (he would say one time that it's because we've not been seeing each other as we used to do just like months before). I tried to redirect the intensity of the feelings I had upon hearing from him as he would tell me those words by making use of what I thought about the annoying feelings I was having over the Mainstream Plus Dance lessons we were both into earlier that particular night. He's not really into me anymore, and that's going to be the case until the next time we both decide that we could go on dating and becoming intimate with each other again on some other occasion. Who would really know?
And I would always cherish his presence in my life especially because he made me believe that I could go back to falling in love again and being comfortable with the thought, after having been away from something similar with someone who's decided he can't be following me here in the USA. I had a rather similar experience when another friend and I were in an intimate, a-sort-of-an-open relationship until this particular fellow committed suicide; his sudden, unexpected death totally knocked me out of my usual happy wits and well established beliefs about the value of preserving one's life as long as possible. But with this particular ex-lover, I had experienced being bluntly turned away, the effects of which I had to deal with shamefacedly in the next few instances that we would meet again as we were going to some common events with other friends. He would still treat me in his own sweet way but I knew he'd been relieved to have finally got rid of me, at least in more affectionate and intimate terms. This ex-lover probably would still remember that I have this relationship that is technically more on hold than real all these past years that I've been here in NYC. Don is still in the Philippines and I doubt if he would ever consider getting a US visa so he could visit me here. I have a feeling that we'll get to see each other again as soon as I decide to visit the Philippines. The relationship between Don and myself has not been moving forward and is frozen somewhere in the frigid clouds up in the atmosphere as we're physically separated by thousands of miles in distance.
I like to believe that this ex-lover of mine took the effort to accept me as to who I was then and must have over-extended himself in the process after getting to know me better in time. I wasn't turning into someone he wanted me to be, in so many ways than one. And I believe he's always known about those things I get into myself every time I meet out with people, as I'm basically happy when I'm with other people. He couldn't confront me about them mainly because he, probably, would prefer not to know about them, unless I volunteer to tell him about them. He's told me "it's really up to you, Jerome" when I was asking
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.
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.
6. More Engaging Figures
The book is now available, in hardcover, paperback & ebook formats, from my online store, Amazon.com,Barnes and Noble,Xlibris.com, Powell's Books, and other online stores.
"Victoria Kapauan-Gaerlan photos"
Index:
The first male teller of FEBTC
The PE Instructor
My friend who’s a doctor
His wife is in Japan
A MIT college student
He does hotel front desk work
a member of the underground movement?
Nice hat
Someone chinese
Looking through the glass window of the Met Theatre
The perimeter steel fence
Waiting for the Bus Driver
Seeing a Renown Short-Film Director
The Dentist from LA
Just finished playing basketball
I must admit that by this time, I must have gained quite a number of experiences in engaging in casual sex with practically strangers. I recognize many others, even among straights, have the same set of experiences, with differences stemming mainly from the variety of partners we get to encounter. Too bad, my own set of experiences has to be mainly gained from these cruising activities. The whole process of engaging in casual sex has gone quite mechanical, rather, more procedural most of the time, as I’ve proceeded with this adventure. Others who may get to know this observation usually are flabbergasted, and they keep the notion of themselves being saved from such an existence. And they keep on being satisfied from learning vicariously from the others, like myself. Being mindful of these events, my feelings towards the act have grown very predictable in time, similar to what others may have when they often get drunk. And I persist, and attempt to find some kind of a meaning from all these. Just how I am going to do this, baffles me up to now, as I attempt to recall some more mindful events to be continuously described more closely in the following sections.
“Sa may Tondo (Somewhere in Tondo),” as he slipped his palm inside my crotch.
"Victoria Kapauan-Gaerlan photos"
Index:
The first male teller of FEBTC
The PE Instructor
My friend who’s a doctor
His wife is in Japan
A MIT college student
He does hotel front desk work
a member of the underground movement?
Nice hat
Someone chinese
Looking through the glass window of the Met Theatre
The perimeter steel fence
Waiting for the Bus Driver
Seeing a Renown Short-Film Director
The Dentist from LA
Just finished playing basketball
I must admit that by this time, I must have gained quite a number of experiences in engaging in casual sex with practically strangers. I recognize many others, even among straights, have the same set of experiences, with differences stemming mainly from the variety of partners we get to encounter. Too bad, my own set of experiences has to be mainly gained from these cruising activities. The whole process of engaging in casual sex has gone quite mechanical, rather, more procedural most of the time, as I’ve proceeded with this adventure. Others who may get to know this observation usually are flabbergasted, and they keep the notion of themselves being saved from such an existence. And they keep on being satisfied from learning vicariously from the others, like myself. Being mindful of these events, my feelings towards the act have grown very predictable in time, similar to what others may have when they often get drunk. And I persist, and attempt to find some kind of a meaning from all these. Just how I am going to do this, baffles me up to now, as I attempt to recall some more mindful events to be continuously described more closely in the following sections.
Also, at this point in time, details of some encounters will have to be deleted. These encounters have actually become so ordinary; I have felt that it’s not even worthwhile repeating the descriptions, as doing so will not serve the direction of this journal.
In shorts, and a short sleeve shirt, this next stranger whom I saw first in front of the Main Post Office (as it always happen, it seems) readily caught my attention as I was then already preparing myself on my way home. I thought of him as someone who much has had difficulty in sleeping that night. I figured out that it must have the heat that made him leave his bed, and come out here to be relieved of his longing, which I thought I could provide (as what was true with the others before him). We just decided to make it at the grounds outside the Main Post Office Extension, where he just easily took off his shorts in one second while he let me work on him. He turned out to be one of the first male bank tellers of a major universal bank’s branch in Escolta. Moreso, this event led to a few meetings wherein we got the chance to know each other better. The eldest child among three sons of a retired Army major, he told me he was in search for a prospective long-term partner. Opting to retire early from his long time bank employer, he then sought to establish himself in a trading business of local quality marble from the Visayas, but he explained his subsequent failure due to limited capital. He reminisced as he described his business of trading of quality marble as something that requires the handling of fragile food items, just like eggs. One broken slab, and there goes his profit, as he further described. Quitting this trading business, he has since then been working with a small firm engaged in escort and security services based in a southern city of Metro Manila from his residence in the northern end.
He gave me calls in the office. A few meetings followed and we never made it again, at least sexually. In our next meetings, I soon learned more about the crowd that he has, as well as the fact that he still helps out in sending his youngest brother to college. I could see that he is the typical fellow you get to meet in sing along bars, one of those in the crowd whose voice stands out. He even informed me about the few times that he got to be picked up by some other guys, one after the other, who have found him attractive, at least for the night. In retrospect, we could have turned out to be long-term partners, yet certain limitations cropped out. I simply couldn’t cope with the idea of limiting myself to only one partner on an exclusive basis. Perhaps, among others reasons, I haven’t really been quite honest in my need to settle in a long term partnership.
* * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
One cruising evening, I encountered a PE instructor of an exclusive boys’ school in Pasay City. He took one very serious look at me from head to foot, as if very surprised at seeing me in the place. Having decided by then that we could actually get together for something very exciting, I approached him to ask for someplace, which he may have in mind. He didn’t actually reply. I walked towards the Post Office, where I figured out that we may be safe even for some short minutes. He just followed me as I walked towards the left side of the humongous structure, which was then closed as expected, where the stairs lead towards the door where the many, many Post Office boxes are housed. In between the stairs, and the wall is located a space wide enough for even three couples. There is a wide window with stationary closed wooden panes with the light of a bright bulb coming out, creating horizontal lines on the object in front of the window. On one side, vehicles continue to lead fast towards and coming from Lawton / Pier. My partner and I opted to stand, just in the side of this window. He was very hesitant in making it with me in that seemingly dangerous yet very mind disturbing space. He stood there in front of me, not making any move at all. I thought, I might as well take the chance, as I recall I’ve seen couples in past evenings cavorting in the small space. But this time, I became very daring, as I opted to remove all my clothing as he watched me undress myself in front of him. I moved swiftly, as I feared someone’s coming anytime now, and I thought I heard a voice coming from the window. In a moment, he was out of himself already as he grabbed every inch of my bared skin that I gladly shared forward to him as I undress him at the same time. Fortunately, nobody got caught as we rushed through the works that evening. I can’t help ponder now in disbelief that we could have caught literally barefooted, and thus putting an end to all this instantaneously.
I saw the same guy after two weeks, perhaps at the crossing amidst a garden leading towards the underpass to Lawton and the Walls. The Andres Bonifacio Monument serves as a backdrop including the Main Post Office Building that flickers abnormally due to some error in the configuration of its lighting. That particular subsequent night, I was wearing glasses, and he simply couldn’t recognize me. I thought I might have looked different and unrecognizable by some. He thought I became smaller in bulk, than the first time we encountered each other. This night, thankfully, nothing happened. This just merely indicates how men who cruise try to maintain an idea of a preferred partner. Perhaps, everything seems to be just physical; it’s actually more of a gift that an encounter repeatedly described in this work may lead to something more stable and long term. Simply, this notion of trying to get more good, or benefit from what is basically physical is quite far from ever taking place when one often goes on cruising.
* * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
Friends really are found just about anywhere. One night after Christmas Day, I cruised in front of the National Museum. I remembered many people had been walking to and from the Luneta. At past 12 midnight, the place looked like it was 7 PM. I looked around, and walked round and round until I decided to seat near the Gomburza Monument. Frankly, and without any offense meant, the poor priests’ metallic statues have the typical silhouette of three men in an erotic act. The water in the encircling man made pond with inner steps around the monument kept on rippling – the mosquitoes and some other insects must have been busy that night swirling round and round while waiting for unknowing prospects to cheat on. While pondering on these details, a man whose small frame precedes his engaging presence soon approached me.
“Ang daming tao, walang mangyari tuloy sa akin…(Too many people....nothing's happening with me),” as he murmured to me and proceeded into a long conversation. We talked about the haunting loneliness of seasons like this. He described his loving family the previous day where they had a slide show of their family’s activities. Then, he talked about his efforts to put into video the family gathering.
“Bakit ka nandito? (Why have you been here?)” I first hesitantly refused to ask yet I blurted out eventually. I don’t remember his answer yet we suddenly recognized each other in our efforts to work on our own individual solitary confinements. He soon graduated from the premier medical school, got his license, and afterwhich went to the US where he now works and stays. Recently, we talked about his troubles of keeping two lovers at the same time at the same house. Situations, I told myself, which I recall have been very familiar when he was here as well. Actually, some other interesting developments have followed through as we try to communicate these days in cyberspace.
* * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
The Gomburza Monument witnessed productive evenings mutely every now and then. Once I met a man in blue bike with passenger sidecar. Sitting on one of the benches while I was studying my strategy for the night, I noticed him looking soulfully at me. Approaching me, we started to talk right away as he parked his bike beside the bench. In shorts, leather slippers and sandos, he looked like he had difficult time sleeping. I noticed he’s the untypical man in search.
“May misis ka na? (You got a wife?),” I asked.
Nodding, he said “Nasa Japan sya. Naiwan yung isang anak namin sa akin (She's in Japan. I'm the one taking care of our only child).”
Paying more close attention, “Saan ka nakatira? (Where are you staying?)”
“Sa may Tondo (Somewhere in Tondo),” as he slipped his palm inside my crotch.
“Kumustang baby mo? (How's your baby?)” I asked while helping him get hold of me.
“Nasa bahay, tulog na (I left him in the house; he's now asleep).”
“Si misis, kumusta? (What about your wife? How's she doing?)” I asked as I gladly allowed him to unzip my pants.
Taking the freedom to engulf what he could cope as he pulled down my shorts,
“Nagpapadala naman ng pera (I'm glad she still sends me money),” as he headed towards finishing his motions.
Taking the freedom to engulf what he could cope as he pulled down my shorts,
“Nagpapadala naman ng pera (I'm glad she still sends me money),” as he headed towards finishing his motions.
I stopped talking for a while.
“Dati kong di ginagawa ito. Nagkaroon lang ako ng barkadang bagets, marami sila, mula nang umalis si Misis. Palagi kaming gumagawa, humahanap ng happening. Nalasing kaming barkada minsan, tulad nang dati. Yung isa, dinala ako sa kwarto. Hinubaran nya ako, naghubad din sya. Tapos, pinasubo nya yung kanya. Ginawa ulit namin. Kaya pala panay ang himas nya sa akin, iba ang bagsak ng kamay nya sa akin kahit kami nasa barkada namin. Di na ako pumalag. (I didn't use to do this before. I got myself involved with really young people; there's a big number of them, since my wife left for Japan. We'd always be on the lookout for something, for something exciting. Once, everyone got so badly drunk, as usual. One of them led me to the room. He pulled down my pants; he also took off his pants. Then, he made me put his cock in my mouth. That first time led to another. Now I understand why. That was why he was always that gentle with me, the soft touch he'd give me, even when we're with our friends. I remember now, I didn't make things difficult for him).”
* * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
One of those nights cast its silvery shadow quite wonderfully when I met one college student near below the LRT Central Station. The space was open enough as it is the parking area for the nearby Metropolitan Theatre clients. Sounding crickety, the LRT repair train has been passing directly over our heads. Yet, we met each other as I recognized someone who was also in search. I guess he knew the place quite well. Wearing shorts, dark colored shirt, looking slim yet tall, he was aggressively passing himself off as he kept on touching his crotch. The bulged just couldn’t be ignored as I signaled him to approach me who was sitting near a tree.
“Saan ka galling? Mukhang okay ka, hush (Where did you come from? I think you're looking great!)…” as I soon pulled down his shorts to his knees.
“Sige, sige Lang…Ituloy tuloy mo…(Go, do what you gotta do!)” as I went on working on while grabbing anything that I could hold on to in the heat of the moment.
We were pretty oblivious to whoever might have been watching us or passing by. “Galing kami kanina sa swimming kasama yung barkada ko….Sa Los Banos…Dala ko pa nga ang gamit ko. Mas masaya ka siguro kung kasama ka kanina, okay rin yung mga kasama ko, (We just came from swimming with my friends. Somewhere in Los Banos.....I still have my bag with me. You would have been happier if you joined us; my friends are also OK),” smiling widely as he kept his shorts down in order for me to relish the whole scene longer.
He just couldn’t contain himself even after coming just a while earlier. Later, I found out he had a twin brother and was then studying to become an Engineer at Mapua inside the Intramuros. Looking back, this event signalled my foray beyond my usual excuse in cruising in the Walls.
That night never seemed to have been lodged in the deep recesses of my mind. I have been since then on the lookout, for something similar, for something more outrageous, and dangerous.
* * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
Mehan Garden used to be made up of varying profiles and silhouettes all evenings then. You get to find the oldest trees in the vicinity in this section. The Garden actually was a mere semblance of the famed Botanical Gardens, which perished during the Great War. Thankfully, Ming Ramos resurrected it recently in the early 90s by placing a well-tended garden in it through the pooled contributions of certain politicians and individuals. Moreso, a recent rendition of Andres Bonifacio’s monument now stands in front of the justice halls near Mehan Garden. It brings about a bright façade in the area where there used to be cruisers abounding. Many events took place within the confines of this simple Garden. Events, which have been jarred beyond recognition due to, weathered time. Once I happened to meet someone engaged in “commercial sex” and who is usually based in Makati (as what he told me soon). Looking so butch in his leather jacket and possessing such a strong look in his eyes, with a body like that of a well practiced dancer, he offered himself to me for a fee. Although quite familiar with the type, I sincerely just couldn’t fathom what he meant then – I could easily have sex if ever I want it if I just sought it myself (in the vicinity). Also, Mehan Garden looks so invitingly well-endowed that evening. The option could have been quite good yet some better options were around me then. I opted out.
* * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
The next one I recall to have encountered turned out to be someone who works in the hotel industry, specifically someone who works as a front desk clerk. Living in Sampaloc, (as he later revealed) he was already somewhat in sweat, and in shorts and slippers, plus white sleeveless shirt. Although medium built, he looked outstanding in his haircut and face contour. His light skin simply glowed in the dark. Obviously, many had been seeking him out in the Garden. I followed him until we found ourselves together finally at the back of a building where many old, junk cars were parked. Whatever frightened notions I may have had then, all these turned out to be baseless. In an instant, his shorts were down his legs as I worked on him. He smelled of baby oil combined with his natural muskiness. Yet, those who were following us were persistent. Some just really want to watch, and not be engaged in their own thing. I offered to have this whole act be settled in a cheap motel. Thankfully he agreed.
* * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
I once met someone who told me he was from a section of the underground movement. I never really got to know the truth behind his claim. Possessing an interesting style of curly hair, he was wearing a well-proportioned mustache, which makes him look very dignified and neat. I recall he always speaks in a low voice, with many unfinished sentences meant for me to add whatever ending I may have in mind.
Althroughout in the period of our several encounters, I felt I just needed to overcome my longing for his lean and muscular body - a state which made me think seriously about a personally formulated notion that those who are in the underground movement must have been leading healthy, active, though dangerous lives. In a matter to months, I lost contact of him. Yet, during our conversations, I remembered him telling me about his plans to become an overseas contract worker, (now called OFW, overseas Filipino worker) somewhere in Manama, Bahrain.
From him, I got to better understand that there are certain places in the Middle East that are libertarian in its treatment of its citizens and guests. I even thought of finding out a job in Bahrain, as I got convinced I could very well improve on my lot in life if I got to work on stabilizing a more steady source of good income than the usual. Yet, I particularly remember him as we went out several times with some other friends. He was the ever faithful part time lover based on what I could sense then, yet there was something rather upsetting about him. He had this special style of exhibiting his brand of jealousy, that I found funny and intriguing at the same time. Why would he fell for me, he hasn’t yen known be that well, as I remarked once to myself. Actually, at this point in time, I simply couldn’t sustain any kind of a loving relationship, even a semblance of it, whatsoever - there have been so many distractions on hand.
Yet I remember that he took advantage of me one night one I was dead drunk. The next day, I felt all the pain as my extreme hangover subsided in the afternoon. I woke late in the morning and I saw him smiling and gently caressing my face. I had to puke out the sickness that I had that morning. Inside the safety of the comfort room, I felt severe pain in my anus, I got the clear ideas that he must have had enjoyed himself immensely in fucking me while I was helplessly drunk the previous night. In previous nights when we joined together to drink, we have had arrangements that no fucking will take place between us unless both of us are aware of it - this would ensure that we’ll enjoy the act. But this time, he took the liberty to get into it without myself agreeing in it.
Since then, I have never acquired any liking in the thought of getting into sex whenever I’m drunk. It’s simply sick for me. On some other recollections that I still have about him, he tried, though in a very subtle manner, to make me finance his efforts to work abroad. Still earning a minuscule of a net income monthly then, I just couldn’t figure out how to support him. He must have realized early enough that I couldn’t provide the needed help, and he was soon gone. Or if I recall wrongly, it was I, most probably who quit the relationship as soon as it was starting to flourish into something very memorable and hurting when goodbye time comes.
After a few years, in one recent meeting inside one of those third rate theaters in Sta Cruz with another fellow who were among those guys whom I got to meet via my other friends I met as well at the Walls, I was informed about the present status of this curly haired guy I described earlier. I was told that he has turned very thin and sickly as he was seen walking inside Harrison Plaza. The other fellow was with another companion who has observed that the two knew each other, but this other fellow simply denied upon being verified about the observation. The other fellow simply couldn’t believe how things must have turned out to be that bad for this curly-haired guy. In addition, I remembered having been given details on the past on how I got to jealously enraged over the thought that this curly haired guy could be doing it as well with this other fellow. They were together when they arrived at the house where my other group of friends were gathered for the evening. Intrigues flew from all eyes that I saw that night. I actually thought that they could very well be a good pair to look at. Nevertheless, I just asked aloud how come they’re together (thinking that they had not been that extra careful in keeping me from not observing the whole set up this way). This time, I got to know that this other fellow has brought this curly haired guy in other cruising areas as he really wanted to know these areas where I could possibly cruise myself (as I admitted that I actually cruise in other areas where he has yet to visit nor acknowledge).
* * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
Another man remains to be very vivid in my mind. Wearing a brown hat, denims with sando shirts, he looked as if he could really be able to fulfill just about anything in my mind. Medium built yet lean, he had chest hair, plus a glimmering dark glowing face. He kept on standing in a particular section in the Garden, where many casual strangers were around talking, laughing over some inaudible topic. I saw him take a leak somewhere, yet he was surprised when he noticed I was eyeing him intently.
I continued walking to other sections in the hope that I would get to meet someone new as usual. When I was back to that section where many were grouped before a makeshift foodshop, I opted to ask for coffee. I noticed him again. Our eyes met. I showed my keen interest. After coffee, I saw him walking towards the LRT Central Station. I approached him, and said "hi."
With a rough voice, “Kumusta ka? Kanina pa tayo nagkita pero di mo ako pinapansin. Akala ko lalapit ka….(How are you? We've been here for sometime now, but you kept on ignoring me. I thought you'd approach me...).”
With a rough voice, “Kumusta ka? Kanina pa tayo nagkita pero di mo ako pinapansin. Akala ko lalapit ka….(How are you? We've been here for sometime now, but you kept on ignoring me. I thought you'd approach me...).”
“Saan ka pupunta? (Where are you going/0” I attempted to continue with the talk.
“Dyan ka lang, sesenyas ako sa iyo (Just over there; I'll give you a signal),” while I saw him walk towards the Fire Station. He entered and I waited patiently. Emerging fast enough, he motioned me over to follow him. I saw a man lying on an improvised bed, sleeping. My acquaintance motioned me to remain silent. He signaled me to go up inside the fire truck. I willingly went up and soon found myself inside. He soon followed, then already in his yellow shorts and sando shirts.
Removing his shirts, he guided my hands in probing his body. Soon, his black briefs appeared. We were kissing and hugging each other, engulfing each other with such warmth and sweaty motions. Brown nipples got licked as what’s done to a bunch of seedless grapes. Hairy body all over with the framed strength pulsating against mine. His body longed for more. I just kept on doing what’s expected to be done.
“Kaya nga di ako nag palabas agad, para masiyahan ka. Napansin mo ba? (That's precisely why I tried not to come at once; I wanted you to enjoy it more. Didn't you notice that?)” as he was dressing himself up again. I gave him some amount of money in the thought that he might want some food, as I felt hungry myself. I knew, as he told me as well that he was from Cavite, married, with two kids and with an elementary school teacher for a wife. They don’t get to see each other often, based on what I understood from his stories.
* * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
Inside the Mehan Garden is a concrete elevated platform in circle. Plants are placed at the periphery of this circle. You can see some details of the local library and a mural where some houseless people get to sleep. They have turned the place lately into a place of silence in the evening. I guess, not that many events take place in the area, nowadays. There is the continuing sound of droplets coming from an assembled water source directly beneath the circle, as it serves as an open tank from which to source the water for some portions of the garden. One night, I decided to explore again this elevated circle. The guard approached me as soon as I came. He was actually hesitant to talk to me, and just felt he had to do his job. I thought I must have quite unlikely from those he has accosted before. I found him to be quite attractive. Yet, I am not simply his type, I guess. I thought, he was looking for someone who will be more stylish in approach, unlike mine, which is rather straightforward and bare-all in one zip.
“Ba’t di ka pa umuwi? (Why haven't you gone home yet?)” he asked.
“Sarado na ang bahay namin. (I've been locked out by now; it's just too late for me to go home)”
“Alam mo bang bawal ang mag istambay dito ng ganitong oras? (Haven't you heard that it's bad to stay the night here?)” as if to warn me softly.
I kept on looking at him as a whole, still attempting to take my chances. A person came passing by but he was more a “she” as that person sashayed from nowhere at that second. I told myself, there’s a drought of interesting men tonight. I might as well have stayed in the house, instead.
I kept on looking at him as a whole, still attempting to take my chances. A person came passing by but he was more a “she” as that person sashayed from nowhere at that second. I told myself, there’s a drought of interesting men tonight. I might as well have stayed in the house, instead.
“Baka iyan ang hanap mo? (Is he your type?)” pointing at the person. I smiled. Then he left me.
I set myself in one of the stone benches on top of the circle, which from where I was sitting is hidden, from the outside by the clinging and encircling vines. I thought of sleeping there again, just as to gain some strength. The stars are just so expansively above me. I felt unmolested. Some few moments and a guy went upstairs in the same circle. We just didn’t talk. Looking Chinese, not particularly striking, tall, lean, yet I thought untypical of those I have seen so far. He soon came in front of me as I was lying on the bench. He was soon over with his overtures after he encircled the place with his absorbing gait as he studied the view outside. Vehicles continue emitting the same choking and dirty air just a few meters from our cleft. We felt somehow shielded. He thought I must have been sending the signals. I supposed I have by this time have mastered to act the signals. He opened his fly and in an instant, we were over with the whole incident.
* * * * * * *
I set myself in one of the stone benches on top of the circle, which from where I was sitting is hidden, from the outside by the clinging and encircling vines. I thought of sleeping there again, just as to gain some strength. The stars are just so expansively above me. I felt unmolested. Some few moments and a guy went upstairs in the same circle. We just didn’t talk. Looking Chinese, not particularly striking, tall, lean, yet I thought untypical of those I have seen so far. He soon came in front of me as I was lying on the bench. He was soon over with his overtures after he encircled the place with his absorbing gait as he studied the view outside. Vehicles continue emitting the same choking and dirty air just a few meters from our cleft. We felt somehow shielded. He thought I must have been sending the signals. I supposed I have by this time have mastered to act the signals. He opened his fly and in an instant, we were over with the whole incident.
* * * * * * *
Near Mehan Garden is the Metropolitan Theater. Its stained glass façade bearing its name becomes more noticeable as one stands on the waiting shed on the road on the other side. Built during the early American period before the Great War, it still stands todate inspite of the many efforts to rehabilitate it to its former glory in the pre war days. One notices the design of this Theater belonging to the Art Deco period, with accompanying human like figures to emphasize some details in the facade. One gets to see one of the first flyovers built in the Philippines right in front of the Theatre. Like the Theatre, these flyovers have overcome earthquakes, and other earthly phenomenon – a tribute to the generations before on how they decide to build edifices at least 30 years ago (as a friend once gave me the technicalities of constructing flyovers before and after). Like the Theatre, this flyover leading towards Jones Bridge, has the feel of time that have advanced through several interesting personal and social eventful intervals.
* * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
I once saw a man in denim shorts waiting outside one of those shops selling antiques at the right side of the Theater’s façade, with the flyover just across the street. Furnished with a lighted bulb at the shop’s back, I could discern something very familiar from a comfortable distance. Jeepneys and private cars passed by. There were those who were waiting for the particularly right jeep or taxi to fetch them out of the whole scene. The man from the shop was actively in search, as many cruisers were passing by his place. Glances between common strangers were exchanged. Looks had been fastened to this man. Some approached the man in shorts and talked for awhile. Nothing sexual happened initially but one looking like he was from a private office eventually joined him inside the shop. From the shadows, I could clearly recognize figures engage the erotic. They could have turned off the bulb, but I guess they must have forgotten. I have seen the man do it several times. He must have been the owner, or the shopkeeper, but I could see he was definitely able to find a great way of relieving himself.
* * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
Some other nights took place uneventfully. I actually had nights with the alternative not to really engage with somebody with me put in gear the erotic. I thought I could handle situations like these quite well. Admittedly, I was successful on certain nights or in certain periods. Yet I realize I had been entangled in the intricate weaves of my personally designed web. Certainly, the quality of events each night depends largely on one’s looks, the weather, delightful thought projection as well the supply and demand of quality cruisers. Yet deep inside, I always told myself something had to happen, somewhat, as soon as I get to scare myself out of my longings.
Before they decided to put in place perimeter wrought steel fence with secure columns around the Intramuros walls facing the Manila City Hall, the whole area covering Colegio de Letran up to Mapua Institute of Technology near Bastion de Dilao was well chosen site as a spawning place for cruising. The Intramuros Walls along this side have withstood the ravages of time as they have the same effect of excluding those merely gazing and standing just outside the Walls. The canal still remains uncovered todate but now it is inside the perimeter fence. Gone perhaps are those days when this canal served as a wide gap from those who would like to merely watch from those who are engaged in action. This canal could easily separate those cruising vehicles by a few meters. Actually, this canal serves as a conduit, somehow as I figured it out, of the water that has been collected to create a semblance of a murky moat around certain portions of the Walls. Then, buses used to make illegal use of the space as a parking lot after they have come and gone to and from Batangas, Laguna, and Quezon. In contrast, cruisers take advantage of the relative freedom available to them in the evening in the space which had a certain silky hue of darkness as the hours moved forward up to early hours of the next day.
Before they decided to put in place perimeter wrought steel fence with secure columns around the Intramuros walls facing the Manila City Hall, the whole area covering Colegio de Letran up to Mapua Institute of Technology near Bastion de Dilao was well chosen site as a spawning place for cruising. The Intramuros Walls along this side have withstood the ravages of time as they have the same effect of excluding those merely gazing and standing just outside the Walls. The canal still remains uncovered todate but now it is inside the perimeter fence. Gone perhaps are those days when this canal served as a wide gap from those who would like to merely watch from those who are engaged in action. This canal could easily separate those cruising vehicles by a few meters. Actually, this canal serves as a conduit, somehow as I figured it out, of the water that has been collected to create a semblance of a murky moat around certain portions of the Walls. Then, buses used to make illegal use of the space as a parking lot after they have come and gone to and from Batangas, Laguna, and Quezon. In contrast, cruisers take advantage of the relative freedom available to them in the evening in the space which had a certain silky hue of darkness as the hours moved forward up to early hours of the next day.
Before, practically every night that I happened to be there, even as early as 8 PM I remember having seen quite a big number of cruisers in earlier described section just outside the Intramuros Walls. They just go from one end to another, feigning the usual nonchalant pose and acting as if they’re just passing by, when in truth, they wanted to seek out some prospective partners. I must have seen and recognized some familiar and known faces in this area. This used to be the most convenient section then where cruisers could get away fast and safe whenever the police decide to poke in the area notoriously known where cruisers play their game, where likewise some creatures of the criminal were believed to have used to lurk. The gap, which is actually the canal, which separates the inner section from the section outside near the road, served quite a purpose. From time to time, some of those who have decided to reside in the area are seen making a toilet out of the canal, while oblivious to those of us cruising in the area. They must have thought that we’re the intruders in this place, which they call “home.” Or they must have thought “to each his own.” A fence used to separate the canal from the parking area of buses, and where real action takes place. I remember having seen guys who must have just opted to casually engage in oral sex, which they could easily get in the place from anyone willing and able. Hidden beneath the trees, or some protruding rocks, they opted to relieve each other while some others would opt to just gawk and watch. I figured out that there are a few losers in the place, excepting the types who thought of themselves as ultra selective, who couldn’t find out someone to their taste, who had the qualms about such a thing as casual sex, thus they end up disappointed and disgruntled.
* * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
Once I met a Bus Conductor who was sitting then on a big stone near the buses in the parking lot where now stand many feeble plant trees being tended for growth in the next five to fifteen years. He got the usual interesting looks as I noticed some had approached him and had talked with him for a while. Mustachioed clad in denims, and quite well built with no protruding tummy, he didn’t really go further in entertaining those who were approaching him, as I also noticed those walking around back and forth near him.
“Kumusta ka? (How are you?)” I asked.
“Eto, naghihintay sa kasama kong driver, hindi pa bumabalik – kanina pa sya nanood ng sine (Hmm, just waiting for my partner, the driver, he's not been back yet; been waiting for him to come back from the movies),” he answered impatiently. Our dialogue took some interesting turns until I asked about his job as well as himself.
“Ibig sabihin mo, gumagawa ka rin? (Don't tell me you're also into these things most guys do here at this time of the evening?)” as he asked me in disbelief. I just nodded.
Some silence took place and I offered something else which I thought could relieve whatever ails him them. He then invited me to join him in his bus, which was then parked at the lot. When we were inside the bus, he borrowed for a while my shoes which he wore as he went out to get something from his colleagues from a nearby foodstall. I got scared inside the bus, darkened and cold, and by the thought that this man had something sinister in mind. He certainly possessed that naughty yet playful look in him, typical of those whom you see as regulars of billiard games - traits which made him quite attractive as I noticed how he smoke listlessly with his eyes searching for something I couldn’t exactly name. At this moment, he was back inside the bus as he approached me who was seated and barefooted at the back. He took a look first at the possibility of others who might have followed us or those who were moving around to find some available space. From time to time, buses move in and out so that focus lights were highlighted at our direction. We kissed and hugged each other longingly and tightly. His strength somehow shaken me as I tried to cover much what I could handle with my sweaty palms. I took off his white shirt as he took off mine, as we attempted to grab each other closely. His pants were down soon as I stared at his lithe body clad only in white briefs. Grabbing me by the neck, he was discernibly nervous in his deep breathing as he watched me work on him. Bared and hands clasped together, I took note of his shiny brown skin and the very black strands of his pubic hair, which I discerned while lights from moving buses were focused towards our direction.
He simply liked to reciprocate, which surprised me, as I didn’t really expect him to do so. The bus was shaking somehow as we proceeded with our efforts to overcome our urges towards each other. We finished and dressed ourselves as we gave each other another moment of fervent kiss. Later, he told he was married with three children, and that his family is based in Batangas, which his bus serves. I recall he told me that he actually has not yet gained much exposure to this manner of coping with this type of sexual urges (which I guess, parallels to mine whenever I am at the Walls). Still, he wanted very much to explore whatever is in store for him as he explained why he chose me over the others. Still, he gave me some credit in my efforts to approach him.
* * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
I once saw an articulate director (at least based on his published interviews) of well known and culturally shocking alternative short films walk it out near the area where buses used to park to get passengers, quite near across the Manila City Hall. It was not yet pretty late that evening; I recall the many number of vehicles moving to and fro.
He was actually being kind of a snob, and I couldn’t figure out if he was out to do some research, or to just pour out some sense of emptiness. But bearing this kind of attitude simply couldn’t bring him any distance at all in the vicinity, even if he’s just doing this walk for research purposes. One simply can’t be a snob and expect to be approached by anyone, at least here. Or if this attitude is sustained, he simply couldn’t afford to make use of it while observing what’s ongoing in the place all along this time. I could just wonder how he could even land being cruised wearing such a mien, as if he’s different from the rest of the crowd. I realize, the same things happen to each of us in due time. It looks and feels very familiar, even particularly upon hearing Sting’s melody for his songs Fragile and The Hounds of Winter.
* * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
One night, I got the chance to talk and eventually make it out with an instructor of Dentistry in a college somewhere in Manila. He was particularly outstanding, given his pale looks and tall height. He was also attired differently. He initially remarked that he just wanted to check out for himself again how the cruising scene in Manila has progressed since his coming back from the United States. Something light was with his face, and he was being funny. I was concentrating on other prospects who might come my way that night. The area, which has since then closed, used to be full of cruisers who conveniently alight from nowhere at the nearby road and proceed with their own businesses in the area. One thing l liked about this Dentist-instructor was the facts he told me about his three years of stay in San Francisco and California. Other than the other materials I’ve read and collected, he was the first one to give me factual events in the said places. Indeed, more and similar heady events take place in those areas at the other areas of the globe. He gave me particular details of how some gaybars have refused him entrance, even if he looked Caucasian enough. He stated how he received discriminating treatment from certain establishments. From him, I got a better idea of how similar cruising events take place at least in known places in America. I guess, Manila will still take a long time before it eventually become typical of what’s happening in the States. Filipinos are yet to be possessed of that straightforward approach in life. We like to beat around the bush, without giving names to our emotional concerns. We’re still very much attached to our families who could easily provide us support during hard up times. Moreso, we possess such a commercial attitude towards our efforts to engage in sex with some others whom we find attractive or who find us attractive. This somehow relieves us of the enduring guilt feelings after engaging in illicit sex. My newly found friend-companion, nevertheless, didn’t exactly like staying and living for good in the America, as he couldn’t practice his profession there. He decided to come back and resettle himself in Manila.
He told me about his apprehension over the idea that his students might think lowly of him. Two of them, have so far fucked him, as he couldn’t resist making it out with them. I could sense the moral enigma that he has as we were engaged in sex yet the whole dilemma was beyond my competency. People judge you accordingly, based on their respective standards. He eventually gave me another person’s name, just in case I’d like to proceed with the efforts to better understand and appreciate this kind of lifestyle. I got to eventually meet the referral who turned out to be quite a good fellow, who looked and behaved as the next typical good-looking and clean-living young man I get to meet in my everyday life.
* * * * * * *
* * * * * * *
The Main Post Office almost always provided a good panoramic backdrop on a number of my encounters. This is particularly true when its front lights are still on, giving much brightness on the whole structure in the evening, as well as on those spending time outside the tall columns of the building. There was once a night, quite early then, when I got to meet a young looking fellow who was in his basketball outfit plus hi-cut Nikes as he lied languidly on the concrete steps of the Post Office. I thought, he must have gotten so dog tired from playing, that he figured that he could just spend some time in sleeping, even for a while.
I thought that it’s not actually a bad idea to come nearer the guy, for a better, assuring view of someone who looked like he was sleeping contented just outside the Main Post Office. I thought to myself, he was being very smart and convenient. I drew enough courage to approach him in the most silent manner that I could. I stood for a while in front of his body, as I studied him at close range. One instant, raging idea clicked in my mind. More courage. More scared heartbeats. And one serious decisive attempt. I sat by his side, and noticed that no one was with us. The view from the top step outside the Main Post Office included that of the lighted clock-tower of the Manila City Hall. Bonifacio just stood frozen at a distance as all vehicles continued speeding and flashing by outside the concrete enclosure surrounding the front of the Main Post Office. I slowly pulled down his shorts. And soon, his white, fresh briefs followed down. He was not waking up, at any case, as if playing with me my game.
He was completely neglecting my presence as he was giving me full rein of what he has to graciously offer. I saw how erect he was at this time. I took my chances and grabbed all the meat that I could handle, nonchalantly. He didn’t even care to wake up, even a bit, as if in complete ignorance of the whole event taking place in his body. Somewhat, I’ve found the idea quite mindblowing.
After coming, he deliberately woke up to put an end on the game. He stood up, and pulled up his undies and shorts. He started to prepare himself to walk away from the scene. Apparently, he was used to having strangers not talking to him, after they have just been over with seems to be just an easy to “scratch away one’s itching urges.”
We started talking, and we never talked about the whole episode earlier. I felt both relieved and amused at the kind of game that he has. I later learned that he just came from basketball practice in his school in Feati. I observed that he took note of my number as we continued walking towards the other side of the Pasig River, by crossing the McArthur Bridge to enter into Sta Cruz. Approaching one of the posts of the LRT Carriedo Station, he excused himself for a while to retrieve his big, red sportsbag that he left in the momentary care of the itinerant street vendor. I remarked at how he was able to afford giving the vendor his trust that his bag won’t get lost or stolen. He had known the vendor for a while, and he always asks for this same favor if he has the need for one.
We met a few times more. I learned he’s just in the city to finish a degree in Engineering. He just lives together with some classmates in an exclusive male dorm. He’s been leading a somewhat carefree, young bachelor’s life. For whatever it’s worth, I’ve learned that he has a mother who works as an influential administrative staff of a city somewhere north. They in fact have a house right in front of the city hall. He wanted me to see him more often but I figured that I should be going out of the whole set up, instead. I recall that I must have gotten exhausted of him just wanting me to provide for his sexual needs everytime he has the urge (at his young age then), which I simply couldn’t find time to sustain.
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The Garden of Two Dragons Fucking by Jerusalino V. AraosMy review
rating: 5 of 5 starsremarkably illustrated, concise, and irreverent (not a porno book, whatsoever)!!! an old friend lent me a copy years ago, and have found it very fascinating. of course, part of the excitement of reading this book is it's "curious" title. it's actually a children's book, (would you believe?), by araos, a respected artist in the philippines. the title may be offensive to most adults who have concerns about "fucking," but i'd believe parents would become more authentic as "persons" (who get hurt, need to be loved, need to love as well, etc.) to their children, if they get to have them read this book. you may not need to explain the title, as there's really no need for it. its being "irreverent" is mainly because of the use of the word 'fucking' & nothing else. it's all about discovering your being you as a person, pursuing your dreams, and not that one person others may have in mind when they see you. i could not get hard copies of this book myself, so i kept a xeroxed copy of it in my library back in the philippines.
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