Date: Wed, 16 Mar 2005 11:17:18 -0800 (PST)
From: Thomas-Alexander Kind <thomasalexander_kind@yahoo.com>
Subject: Filipino Days - 3

No disclaimer, as the ones that hold the power do what
they want anyhow. Everybody else does not need one.
Storycode: M/b


The truth.
For you, Wolf.


Filipino Days -- 3


Manila Bay

The heat of the morning sun is manageable.
So I take a slow walk across Roxas Boulevard, just
down from our hotel grandly named `Mabini Mansions'.

It is of course none of it.
An almost dingy 8-story building in Ermita, the Red
Light district in Manila.
The mattress is like made from wood, the fridge in the
room does not work and the air-con has emphysema, but
the shower has hot water.
I did welcome that when we got here yesterday just
after noon.
Spent much more time under the slowly cooling spray,
than I would normally.
After the hours in the cool taxi, the heat in the city
seemed to press even more so against my chest, walking
up to the reception.
Back from the country into the sprawling, hustling
city.
The noise had become infernal.
Jeepnees blaring truck-horns and all manner of sounds
to attract attention to the fact that they should be
the ones that have the right of way.
People dodging the traffic in ways that made me shiver
and sink lower into the seat, hoping that I could
avoid seeing the carnage... that somehow never happened.
My new found friend Trevor was remembered it seemed,
smiles at the fact that we were walking in with a
little 8 year-old Filipino boy in tow.
Up to the rooms , next to each other and looking out
over... nothing.
The backs of other buildings, dirt and squalor.
				*
My arms against the tiles, the water is running down
my body while I am trying to get myself to a place in
my mind that is safe and calm.
My body is still sore and my mind numb.
But I had been able to sleep some in the taxi,
exhausted and wanting to hide.
Jun-Jun's head in my lap, we had both dozed for an
hour or so.
Now, however I was by myself.
With myself.
Feeling empty and alone.
Far from home.
Far from the love that I had felt so strongly in
myself for the boy in the blue Parka who hands me his
woolen hat with tears in his eyes as he turns to the
gate at the airport.
Walking away, waving from the other side of the
barrier.
Me waving back... holding the hat, kissing it.
And staring at the plane climbing into the sky until
the clouds swallow it.

I can not feel it any longer.
I am crying, hard, tears and snot mixing with the
water from the sputtering showerhead.
I can not feel him in me any more.
I have lost him to these unholy nights, to the heat
and the hot.
To the lust and the desire that make me dull in my
head.

Just a few weeks... and here I am on the other side of
the world, lost and having lost him.!

I can not smell him any longer on the hat that I still
keep in my pack and now under my nose, sitting on the
bed, naked... wishing only to have him.
But this is Manila.
A crumby hotel, too expensive and in the middle of all
this dirt.
With me hoping I was somewhere else.
				*
Trevor knocks on my door as the evening approaches.
I must have slept, but have no memory of dreams.
When I open the door... there is not only Trevor, but
Jun-Jun and another boy who pushes into the room.
A chunky adolescent who speaks very good English and
despite the ridiculousness of the situation is
offering a swank greeting with handshake in
`The-Queen's-English'.
I can not help but smile at this and so somehow the
evening seems possible.
Trevor is suggesting dinner with the boys and then
some time for a drink for us.
I am easily persuaded.
We end up in some out-door garden eatery where the
chicken is fried to a crisp which makes the little
meat there is even harder to swallow.
I am not hungry anyhow.
The boys are chattering and the older boy is quite the
entertainer.
Trevor seems relaxed and happy.
Why am I not getting there.?
Maybe a few drinks will help... at least to forget it
all for tonight.
So I am relieved when we have dropped the boys at the
hotel... I suddenly realize that it seems quite ok to
bring boys here... and are sitting in a pub down the
street, having a drink and watching the people drift
by.
				*
Behind us a crowd of rather rowdy drunk young men with
Australian accents, who are out for a good time with
the girls that are not only out on the street, but in
the pub as well.
But the noise and all seems soothing in a twisted way...
seems to suggest a normalcy that is possible.
A belonging that could be reached if I tried.
Who the hell am I kidding.!
Belonging... to what and to whom.?
Am watching the girls that ply their trade up and down
the street.
No blame, no repulsion... but sadness.
For all of us... here on this street in Ermita... knowing
that most of us are dreaming of being somewhere else.
With someone else.

I can not help but share some of my thoughts with
Trevor, who lets me talk, listens but is mostly silent
himself.
It's what I need it seems.
The situation is crazy... sitting here in the open part
of the pub, next to the sidewalk, talking about boys,
the way these `mates' are talking about the girls in
this town.
Talking flesh and the pleasure of getting what one
needs.
There is no place for love here in this place, it
seems.
But was I looking for... love.?
It suddenly is clear to me that somewhere in all of
this mess there is still: me.
Me that loves the boy who's hat I carry with me for
many miles now.
Me that has sex with willing boys, yes.
Me that pants and drools and moans while cuming all
over a beautiful little brown skinned boy.
Me that sucks his cock because I need to.
Because that is who I am... also.!
Me that needs to feel the soft skin under my fingers.
Me that squeezes a small bum while the boy pushes his
cock into my willing mouth.
Me, that feels empty... but not completely.!
No there is still something left.
It just is changing, so sometimes it looks different
and I do not recognize it right away.

Second drink... Trevor and I are both watching a small
troop of 3 boys march past the pub. Two little ones
and one slightly taller.
They sweep the place with their eyes.
Trevor waves to them...they giggle and walk on.

But are back for a second pass after a few minutes.
What... here, I am watching more closely.
The taller one is a very good looking boy.
I am caught... he is looking back. Directly into my
eyes.
Does not smile.
Nor am I.
But something passes between us.

Someone has just looked into my heart... it was too
open.

Trevor is chuckling at my stumbling words.
Tells me he thinks it is a beautiful boy, but alas he
has commitments waiting for him in his room.
Leans close and looks at me hard... and tells me to get
up and walk out, go up to this boy... who is standing at
the corner, waiting to cross it seems... and take
another shot at life.

I am afraid, not the least of the situation here in
the pub... the other guys.
But am more afraid to loose this chance... because I
know in myself that that is what it is... a chance to
try again to find me in all this mess in myself.
To have a boy take my hand and maybe we can find me
together.

The light changes at the corner... the boy looks over
his shoulder at me... walks.
Jumping up... I am behind him in a few quick strides...
hand on his shoulder.
His eyes on me, he nods as I ask him if he wants to
come with me.
The other two are pushing at my arm, asking to come
along as well.
But I have no time for them... walk on, arm on the boys
shoulder, telling them to get lost.

It is only a few minutes to the hotel.
The chap at the reception does not give more than a
look to the boy and me.
Elevator and door to my room.
Key...open and close.
Me... and boy in my room.
Now what.?
				*
I offer a warm coke.
We trade names.
Jimmy.
Thomas.

Sitting on the bed, smiling nervously, while watching
me squeeze a Calamansi to add it's juice to the little
bit of Mekong in the bathroom glass.
Dark wavy hair, brown skin and those brilliant white
teeth gleaming when he smiles.
White shirt and blue shorts that look a lot like
school pants.
13 years old, lean and yes... beautiful.
At least to me.
He looks at his sneakers when I tell him so.

We are trading what little words there are between us.
His English is sparse and my Tagalog is non-existent.
With the exception of Mabuhay, Paalam,... Paki, Salamat
and `Titi' at which he is overcome by giggles.
Why am I so nervous now... this is not so different from
the last few days, is it.?
But I am.
Want to keep talking, keeping a safe distance to the
boy.
Out of my arms reach at least.
Although that hungry animal inside of me is pushing
all kinds of pictures into my mind.

Suddenly, with scarcely a knock, the door is flung
open and an excited Jun-Jun with the other boy in tow
is running into the room.
Jimmy almost spills his drink, jumping up, as Jun-Jun
lands on the bed in one leap.
The boys chatter amongst them... although I get the
feeling that the older boy with the lovely accent is
drilling Jimmy for information.
Hmmm... Trevor has appeared as well and I offer him a
drink, which he declines and instead drags Jun-Jun off
the bed by his legs and hoists the giggling little boy
over his shoulder.
The older boy get up as well, pats my arm on the way
through the door and whispers to me that Jimmy is a
good boy but does not know too much.
Clunk... the door falls shut.

Jimmy still has big eyes, somewhat intimidated it
seems.
But this has shaken me out of my nervousness and so I
hold out my hand to him.
Carefully putting the coke on the bedside table, he
gets up and puts his hand in mine.
I feel ridiculously romantic, walking to the bathroom,
with Jimmy's hand in mine.
He hesitates only for a second when I pull him around
to stand in front of me.
Looks up into my eyes as I brush his black curls from
his forehead and bend to kiss his cheek. Turns his
face at the last minute and my lips meet his, instead
of his cheek.
His eyes close, as my tongue moistens his lips, than
slips between and dances along his teeth.
I am holding his neck with both hands and as he
exhales sharply, my tongue finds a natural opening
into his mouth.
Pushing back against my hands, his eyes fly open and
are full of question-marks.
Hmmm... I know that part of me is kissing a boy in a
blue Parka in the snow.
Is kissing innocence.
But Jimmy seems to settle into the kiss, drawing his
breath and hesitantly holding my arms in his hands.
Not pushing away any longer.
Leaning against me.
With one of his hands sliding around my neck.
Phuuu... I let him go a little, but he lifts up on his
toes and leans in for another kiss.
I am getting impossibly hard in my pants.
This is no technique... but all emotion, from both of
us.
Why him... why now.?

Why not.?!
				*
My fingers are fumbling with the buttons on his shirt.
Slip it off him.
His skin is soft and warm in my hands.
His flat stomach pulls in, when I am trying for the
snap on his pants and he mumbles something.
Wiggles his hips and the shorts slip down by
themselves, leaving him in small sky-blue underpants.
He looks up from under that dark hair and smiles...
searching in my eyes for something like approval or
something.
I keep telling him what a beautiful boy he is.
But he snickers at that and kicks off sneakers and
pulls off socks.
Turns to the shower controls...while my hands slide down
the small knobs of his spine to his slim hips.
To the waist-band of those sky-blue underpants, grasp
them and slip them down over his compact bum.
Off his feet and out the door with the rest of his
clothes.
He turns to me... and I am mesmerized by the beautiful
boy-penis above a full pouch... while turning on the
shower, which gets me wet and makes him laugh out
loud.

We play under the warm spray, soaping each other,
washing hair.
Shy at first about touching my penis, he is soon
boldly stroking me to a shuddering climax while I am
pressing him to my hip, doing the same for him.
Grunts of pleasure from both of us...with trying to kiss
under the water-spray which of course make us sputter
and cough.
And twitch in giggles.
Sitting on the floor, with Jimmy's back to me between
my spread legs, his bum pressing into my groin,
washing his hair once more... he loves the warm water
and my hands massaging his head.
Why is this one different than... than Rolly or Donny.?
Is he different at all.?

Or is it me that is different.
Me that wants this to be bathed in soft romantic
yellow light... like now, from the little bedside lamp.
Me that is holding Jimmy's head cradled in my arm,
while I am pecking little kisses from his lips.
It is like I am watching myself.
Like I am looking at myself making sure that this one
time it is not only lust.
It is like a play I am rehearsing for some other time.
I lick his throat, he tucks his chin in.
I move to his right nipple and as it hardens a bit he
twists away.
I kiss his shoulder blade and the little knobs of his
spine all the way to his bum.
He twists as he snickers into the pillow... but his legs
move apart when my fingers stroke the insides of his
thighs... softly.
He seems to involuntarily hump the bed a little when I
let my tongue wander through the cleft of his butt,
across his rose... he bucks and his bum clenches...which
makes him sigh and to that space between his legs.
That space where the little crease is running from his
pouch into his bum.
I lift his leg and turn him on his side... and mouth his
bag.
He covers his face with the pillow, because he is
groaning and giggling at the same time.
His hard thin boy-penis is twitching, as he clamps his
legs around my ears while my tongue plays with his
balls.

I want to make love to Jimmy.
Because I need to be loved.
Yes, I want to be held, want to be loved.
Need to feel some ones arms around me holding me with
emotions that come from the heart not the body.
I am not sure if this is it.
But I need to try... need to love this boy's body to
hopefully make him feel that there is love in my
heart.
Need him to take the message to my gods, asking for my
salvation.
As I am kissing his ankles my tongue is searching for
the little wings.
I know I am torturing him, because I am not letting
him reach his climax.
Get him worked up again with mouth and fingers,
nipping at his pouch and kissing his ears.
Jimmy is now pressing the pillow into his face as he
is twisting his body on the bed. But I need to hear
him... need to hear that this is pleasure for him... not
pain.
So wrest the pillow from his face, hold his head,
looking into his eyes, as I give him short, fast
strokes that have him keening and spurting his juice
all over his chest, while his eyes roll back before he
presses them tightly closed.
And I can see the tears roll out from under his
eye-lids.
He is limp in my arms after a crunching hug.
Is breathing hard, like me, from all this.
Shivers now as I hold his sweaty body close.
So I pull the sheet over us... and we drift off to
sleep.
				*

It is still dark outside.
I am awake from Jimmy rolling out of my arms to rest
his back against me.
It is now too warm under the sheets, so I peel them
off us.
Looking with wonder again at this lean young boy next
to me.
The bedside lamp is still on... so I switch it off.

Find it hard to get back to sleep because my mind is
full of things that seem to need answers right now.
All this sex seems to have so little love in it.
Tonight I hope I gave Jimmy here a little more than
sex.
Gave myself a little more than sex as well, I hope.
Maybe the beginning of seeing myself less of a horror
than the world wants me to.
Maybe it is ok to have sex.
Maybe there will be love.
Maybe I will survive this after all.

Jimmy is moving and getting out of bed.
It is early, but he had told me that he needs to get
out early, to go to school.
Must be important to him.
I watch him as he returns from the bathroom.
He looks beautiful in the half-light of the
morning-coming-soon.
He gets into bed again, and finds my arm as a pillow
for his head. Slides up against me and pulls the sheet
over us.
Kisses my throat and than my mouth.
Knows I am awake and watching him.
Smiles at me and softly tells me `Thank you'.?
There is a lot of emotion in us both I think.
Good emotions... but still, making our eyes big and
moist.
Kisses me again with deep passion and slides across me
and out of bed.

Has another warm shower, while I take a piss and watch
him from the sink.
Slips into sky-blue underpants, shorts and shirt,
socks and sneakers.
His hand finds the money in his pocket... he does not
check.
Pulls my head down to his and looks into my heart once
more... because I let him...
... and slips out the door.
				*


The heat of the morning sun is manageable.
So I take a slow walk across Roxas Boulevard, just
down from our hotel grandly named `Mabini Mansions'.
Down to the edge of the water along the seawall.
I climb up on the low wall and walk along the top of
it.

It is good to walk.
Good to be by myself.
Be myself.
Because I know that I am not somebody else this
morning, as I watch the gulls and the ships in the
harbour.
Know that what happened here is something that is part
of me.
That needed to wake up and become part of my conscious
self as well.
Not all fantasy.
Not all pornographic imagination.
Not all hoping and longing.
I think I will make it.
Will be able to love a boy the way I should and need.
With my heart and body and soul.


It is good to be out early and be ready, because today
I will meet up with my friend in that guesthouse and
will ride out to the airport.
Get into one of those shiny metal birds and let it
carry me away... climbing into the clouds, slowly
banking left across Manila Bay.


TAK