Jeepneys howled by, providing movement to the dry, torpid air. I was sitting on some stairs, outside an LRT station in downtown manila. I lit a cigarette and soaked in the environment, while I waited for a guy I met on Grindr. Earlier today, I spent three hours exploring Divisoria, a massive area of markets and malls, then arranged to meet him at an LRT station as he was gonna skip a uni class. Having been in this city for a while, you become desensitized to the endless crowds, noise and commotion. What got me was the still, lingering heat.
Its always funny waiting for someone you’ve met online or through an app. You seem to analyse every possible guy walking in the vicinity, constantly hoping that the guy your waiting for isn’t that funny looking, seedy one that seems to be waiting where you are too. Finally, I see him approach. He’s wearing his volleyball uniform, had a backpack on and greeted me with a smile. He was beautiful; with smooth brown skin, almond eyes, and an alluring set of thick lips.
So we’re on the train, and this dude is chatting away in perfect english about the area, pointing out attractions, showing me universities etc. And I realise that he’s unlike any other young gay Filipino guys I’ve met. In contrast to all the timid, quiet guys I’ve come across in the Phillippines, he was confident, talkative, and was interested in my travels, where I’ve been, and who I was.
As I got to know him better, it was hard not being drawn to him – his drive, his cuteness; and he always seemed to be in good spirits, and had something to talk about. I always find guys around my age in the Philippines to be incredibly fascinating – and always imagine what I’d be like if I grew up here. Shorter probably.
On the surface, he was smart, friendly, studying a difficult course and was a Catholic – a boy any Filipino parent would be proud of, but there was another side to him; he told me about parties and his experimentation with illicit drugs. For some reason, guys that are willing to explore, take risks, and have multiple dimensions to them, I find incredibly attractive.
So we went back to his place. Like a true Filipino he was accommodating, offering me ice water, and offering to cook me food if I was hungry. So normally I’m the one to make the first move, but this dude is 18 I suppose, and fucking horny, so he does. We sit on his couch, he comes a bit closer and we make out. I’ve never made out with a dude with braces before, but its like not that different from making out with a normal person.
We head to his room, get naked, and his body is incredible. From all the training he does, he had a body of a small god. His body was of lean, solid muscle, and the ripple of his abs drove me insane. His skin was slick, and felt like fluid under my hands. He’s begging to be fucked, so I do it. Eye contact says a lot when you have sex, and there were moments where I’m fucking thrusting my hips like a crazy man, the beds rocking, hitting the wall behind it, and his face is twisted in pleasure; our eyes locked on each other.
I wanted to spend the rest of the day with him, but I had to pickup my passport as I had to renew my visa. For a while we procrastinated and delayed the fact I had to go, and chilled at his place and ate chocolate. Before I knew it, I only had an hour to get to Intramuros, in central Manila. I was stressing. I needed this passport, as I was flying to Puerto Princesa the following day. As I rushed to the LRT, taking the wrong fucking stairs, he sent me a stream of messages directing me to which trains to take, and saying I’d make it. One of the last texts was advice telling me to pray, and it’d all be fine. I made it.
I got another chance to see him again on my last day in the Philippines, about a month later. He comes by early in the morning, as I was leaving in the evening. So we both want to have sex, and as I was staying at a hostel, and his place wasn’t free – we end up renting out one of those common 3-hour hotel rooms that can be found in Pasay. I lined up with a bunch of other men who were renting out rooms, their lovers/prostitutes waiting on the couches.
So they were all out of their economy 270 peso rooms, so I thought what the fuck I’ll splurge and get the executive room at 500 pesos ($12.50AU). The transaction is literally over in 30 seconds. I hand over they money, he hands me the keys and its done. None of this registering / signing in bullshit. We head up the elevator.
We find a room that smells faintly of smoke, with a vast selection of different lighting settings, ranging from super bright to I-can’t-really-see-you-my-imagination-will-make-up-the-rest. I wonder if guys who can’t afford expensive prostitutes go for rooms like this. Best of all theres a massive bed with mirrors on the ceiling and at the sides. We turn on the TV to find porn playing. Classy.
We enter the wonderful state of flow, completely immersed in each other, with time unfolding, but not observed. Before we know it a couple of hours has passed. Sadly, my frenulum was still in a state of healing, and while I tried fucking him, a sharp pain from my willy told me ‘no ric not today’. You never really imagine or think about what your penis sounds like until it speaks to you.
Lastly, we head to Mall Of Asia, grab some food, and I take him for his first time ice skating. He is awesome. So initially we go in just kind of pushing one foot in front of the other, in an awkward series of slides. After about 15 minutes he’s off watching some of the professional dudes, and tries to mimic their manoeuvres and tricks. He mimics the gay / graceful posture of some of the professional skaters and we find this hilarious.
So that’s how I spent my last day of an eleven month trip, making love with an amazing guy in a cheap hotel and ice skating. It doesn’t get any easier, saying goodbye to someone your quite into. And in a lot of these occasions, you convince yourself that you’ll see them again in the future, and things will be the same work as well as they did when you first met. From all the dudes I met in the Philippines, he left the biggest impression on me.