Date: Fri, 10 Aug 2012 09:35:29 -0700 (PDT)
From: John Michaels <mmanlookin@yahoo.com>
Subject: Filipino Love  -chapter 3

			       FILIPINO LOVE
				    By
				    JM

		       Email: mmanlookin@yahoo.com

Disclaimers and other info: see chapter one.


				 Chapter 3

     SHIT!!!  FUCKING STUPID GODDAMN BASTARD!!!  This was going through my
head as I cursed myself for making a bone-headed mistake.  Here I was,
sitting in coach in the middle of three seats, my six-foot frame squeezed
into a space a small child would find uncomfortable.  What the hell was I
thinking when I made my plane reservations!  I had made them as I normally
would when going on vacation.  Being a teacher, my salary didn't afford me
the luxury of any type of accommodation other than coach.  But now I had
more money than I could ever spend in a dozen lifetimes, and I had
forgotten and purchased coach fare for a 27-hour trip!  I didn't realize my
blunder until I was approaching the ticket counter to check in.  I tried to
get an upgrade to first or business class, but each of the three legs of
the trip had full seats.  I'm definitely going to try to fix that for the
return trip as soon as I reach Manila.  Fortunately, my seatmates on either
side were slight in build, so I wasn't as crowded as I could have been.  I
had a woman on my right in the window seat and a man on my left, both
Filipinos returning home.  We introduced ourselves and got to talking.
They both worked in the U.S. and were returning to visit family.  Both
spoke very good English, and they were happy that I was making my first
visit to the Philippines.  They both offered information about places to
visit there and things to do.  About 2 hours into the flight, everything
quieted down, and I turned my attention to the video screen in front of me.
Every seat had it's own, with an offering of first-run movies, TV shows and
video games, so it wasn't too bad.  Thank God we were actually encouraged
to get up and move around when flight conditions were good, otherwise my
legs and back would have been a wreck.  But even then, 27 hours!!!  We'd be
crossing 13 time zones, including the International Date Line.  This will
definitely be the farthest I've ever been from home...literally half a
world away, but I was really excited about it all.  Now, if my body is
still functioning by the time we get there after being cramped for so long,
everything will be great!

     But, I made it!  We had left Boston at 8:00AM Saturday and landed in
Manila 11PM local time.  My body wasn't hurting too badly, but I was really
tired.  I don't sleep well on planes even under the best of circumstances
and had only managed to doze fitfully.  Customs was no problem, and I was
delighted to see that all my luggage had arrived with me.  Exiting the
terminal, I hailed a taxi and went to a nearby hotel, since my connecting
flight to Cebu left at 8:00 the next day.  When I checked in at the hotel,
I left a wake-up call for 6:00 and headed for my room.  I simply dragged my
luggage into the room, hit the head, as they say in the navy, and fell onto
the bed fully clothed.  I think I was out before my head even hit the
pillow.  The next conscious moment I had was when the phone started ringing
with my wake-up call.  After a quick SSS routine, I dressed and headed out,
back to the airport.  Everything went surprisingly smoothly, and my flight
actually left on time, arriving at the airport in Cebu 2 hours later.  When
I had rented the house I'd be staying in during my time here, the agent had
offered to meet me at the airport and take me directly to it.  The airport
for Cebu is actually on a small island just off the coast from the capital
city.  The name of town where the airport is is called Lapu-Lapu and was
also the town where I'd be setting up my base for exploration.  I had
decided that from the information I found on the Internet that somewhere on
the island province of Cebu I would find the location for my hotel.  As I
exited the terminal, I saw a youngish Filipina probably in her mid-30's
holding a sign with my name on it.  After introductions, we loaded my
luggage into her car and drove off toward my vacation rental.  As we were
driving along, she was asking me questions about myself as well as pointing
out things of interest, all the while darting in and out of traffic like a
seasoned race car driver.  While I tried to listen to her chatter, I was
actually more concerned about the traffic and her driving skills.  It was a
true eye-opening and white-knuckle experience!  It was also something I
would probably have to consider if indeed, this is where I decided to
settle.  After about a half hour of this sphincter-tightening experience,
she turned onto a residential street that moved us closer to the shoreline.
We were soon on a street that seemed to parallel the water and soon pulled
up to an attractive house, although I would call it more of a cottage, or
bungalow.  There was a wall surrounding the property on three sides, being
open on the beach side, with a gate giving access to the property from the
street.  She explained that we were actually looking at the back of the
place where the single bedroom was.  We went through the gate and to the
right of the cottage.  Toward the end was the single entrance, with a
smallish patio/seating area leading up to it.  There was a small lean-to to
the left of the door that looked like it had some patio furniture and
umbrella that could be set up.  Producing a key, she unlocked the door, and
we stepped inside.

     Straight ahead was a galley-style kitchen with refrigerator, stove,
sink and cupboards with a large window over the sink about half way along
the wall facing the beach.  To the left was a long island/counter with more
storage underneath and seating for informal dining.  The counter divided
the kitchen from the dining/living area, which comprised about half the
total living space.  There was a fair-sized flat screen TV with a DVD
player and a small stereo setup.  On the wall facing the street was the
door to the bedroom.  The bathroom was accessed through the bedroom,
although when pointing things out, she called it the "c.r."  When I gave
her a questioning look, she giggled and said that's what they call the
bathroom here and that c.r. stands for comfort room...rather appropriate, I
thought.  We then went back to the kitchen, where she pointed out all the
food and drink items I had requested...one of the many perks I was finding
that money can provide.  She had done all my shopping for me.  After
handing me the key, we went back to her car where I retrieved my luggage.
With a toot and a wave, she was off, and I took everything inside to settle
in.  When I had unpacked and put things away, I decided that a quick bite
to eat, a shower and a nap were in order.  It was now almost noon local
time, but my body was still on U.S. time.  After a sandwich, washed down
with the national beer, San Miguel, I stripped, took a quick, cool shower
and fell onto the bed without bothering with clothes.  The agent had turned
on the air conditioners in the living room and bedroom when we arrived, so
it was pleasantly cool, in spite of the heat and humidity outside.  I had
always enjoyed relatively warm and humid temps, so had no problems
adjusting.  I stretched out on the bed and was soon asleep.

     I awoke about 2 hours later, feeling refreshed.  Noticing that it was
about3:00PM now, I decided to get into my beach togs and check out the
beach, which was only about 50 feet from the front of the house.  Donning
my bathing suit, I slipped on my flip-flops, grabbed my towel, sunglasses
and sunscreen and headed out.  The scene before me, as I walked toward the
pristine white-sand beach was idyllic.  It was everything I had hoped for
and more. The beach was about 75 feet to the water and swept off in a
gentle curve about a mile in either direction.  It was fringed by coconut
palms and some flowering bushes and looked like an idealized painting of a
tropical paradise, but this was the Real Deal.  I walked about half way to
the shore before spreading out my towel, kicking off my foot gear and began
to slather the sunscreen on my very white Northern New England body.  As I
was doing this, I heard some laughter, voices and splashing coming from the
water and noticed a group of young boys enjoying themselves in the surf.  I
continued to watch as I finished applying the cream, then rested back on my
elbows, simply soaking up the sights and sounds around me.  Soon, I heard
the boys' chatter getting closer, and noticed they were headed to shore
about 20 feet down the shore from me.  The chattering stopped all of a
sudden as they realized there was a stranger on their beach.  The
chattering started up again as they huddled together, glancing in my
direction frequently.  I was trying to keep the amusement off my face, but
my eyes were able to see all this behind my sunglasses without giving away
the fact that I was watching.  Soon, I could see them all talking to one
boy in particular whom I couldn't see very well, as he was at the back of
the group.  Evidently, they were trying to convince him to be the one to
approach me.  He must have finally agreed, as he walked through the group
and headed in my direction, and I got my first full glimpse of him.  My
cock went from zero to hard in less than a heartbeat!!  Walking toward me
was the most beautiful male specimen I had ever seen!


See?  I told you its cumming! (ahem) Soon, gentle reader.  Very soon.  And
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