As ALWAYS during my trip (and very annoyingly…) I couldn’t sleep and woke up early on the Wednesday morning of my last week in Angeles from a text at about 7 AM from the Misty’s girl the night before volunteering to come over and practice her BJ technique on me. I figured that since I was up and would be dragging Airport Girl to breakfast with me whether she wanted to go or not, that I had plenty of time to kick her out by 11 AM, which was the time Misty’s girl and I had agreed to meet the night before. So I texted back, sure come on over at 11, but TEXT FIRST. This would become important a little later on that morning. It didn’t really dawn on me at the time that this would be dangerously close to check out time, as I was scheduled to leave the Apartelle Royal above Camelot that day and move back to a standard room at the Orchid.

By 8 AM AG and I were poolside at the Orchid and enjoyed a leisurely breakfast which as always included a few too many trips to the buffet. I also started drinking at breakfast (I surely would have done MORE drinking on this trip if I hadn’t gotten sick and had the acid stomach problem for nearly half the time I was in Asia), and by 10 AM I was pretty happy and looking forward to a nap. I think I resemble the guy in the old joke that “I tried to become an alcoholic, but I kept falling asleep!”. I wasn’t too drunk to remember that I had company scheduled at 11, however, and was to check out at ~noon, and decided to text the Misty’s girl and tell her DON’T COME and keep Airport Girl around for an afternoon bang after switching to the Orchid.

Of course since I hadn’t dismissed AG, she crawled into bed with me, and one thing led to another… And pretty soon the afternoon bang became another morning bang. Which was going along GREAT… Until the knock on the door at EXACTLY 11 AM!!! FUCK! Why can’t people follow instructions (TEXT FIRST!) AND/OR read their texts??? And sure enough, I threw a towel on and opened the door to see Misty’s girl with a puppy dog grin with sweat beading above her upper lip after making the hike up the two massive flights of steep stairs at the Apartelle Royal (another issue with security there, BTW – why’d they let this chick up? Because she knew the room number?). When I was pretty standoffish and just stood there in front of the door, her grin quickly turned to instant depression and she voiced the obvious question that she already knew the answer to: “U hab girl na”? Uhh…

And man, I felt REALLY bad. She looked SO hurt when she found out after being so excited just a moment before, and I felt like SUCH the asshole for having her come all the way there only to be told to go away. My response was simply “I texted you and told you not to come…”. She simply turned and left, and I could do nothing but head back into the room and deal with the suddenly inquisitive (and naked!) Airport Girl.

Just a note about feelings and working girls in Angeles: There are surely hardened pros in that town and the girls do indeed come to AC to improve their lives and futures and those of their families, whether by making money in the bar or by getting rescued to some degree by a foreigner with some money. However, it was my experience that some girls quickly developed a REAL emotional attachment no matter what you might have said to warn them of the contrary. This Misty’s girl had basically been kicked out with her tail between her legs the night before, chastised because her performance in a short time session (when she thought she was going long time when she left the bar) wasn’t up to snuff. Her response was to text me 7 hours later to take me up on an offer to let her ‘practice her BJ technique on me’. She showed up with a HUGE smile and the sweetest disposition, genuinely happy at the prospect that I wanted her. And she left DEVASTATED, looking to be on the verge of TEARS when I was already occupied.

And then Airport Girl got all jealous and demanded to know who was knocking at the door… Sure, there was a financial relationship there with both girls (though I surely could have told AG no mas money and would’ve still had to beat her off with a stick), but this was pure emotion on both of their parts, and it was very weird for me. I am not exactly used to breaking hearts or having girls fight over me. I found it flattering, but also a stress that I, at times, didn’t want to deal with. While the drama certainly wasn’t BORING, it also wasn’t something I was proud of or happy about.

Anyway, I used the language barrier to my advantage and dodged AG’s inquisition and decided no mas sexo that morning and hit the shower and started packing up for the short move back to the Orchid. I had only reserved for 3 days at the Apartelle Royal because I had wanted to try it and see if I liked it, and because I thought I was splurging by spending close to 10 bucks a night more than I would have for the Orchid’s standard rooms or at Kokomoz. In hindsight, I liked the rooms at Camelot so much that I thought the price increase was well worth it, and I have already booked the same $32 room for my next trip.

After dismissing AG and after a very short trike ride with my luggage, checking in at the Orchid was a breeze, as always – this was my third check-in in 3 weeks. I was a bit disappointed, however, when they told me that I would have to check out again the next day as they were completely booked for my last night in AC. Fuck! I’d have to move AGAIN??? This was only minorly stressful, though, as AC was fairly deserted in July and surely it wouldn’t be difficult to find a room. I resolved to inquire at Kokomoz later that day.

Almost immediately after I checked in at the Orchid I got a text from Flaca wondering what was up with me. I told her about my room change and said that I’d be visiting her shortly after Voodoo opened at 2 PM. I had had a very pleasant 24 hour break from Flaca, but the idea of not seeing her on my second to last day of my trip and maybe having somebody else barfine her was upsetting.

I indeed showed up as Voodoo was opening, and Flaca asked me to just wait and hang out there for a bit so she could make her salary for the day before we left. No problem. Of course I was expected to buy her a ladies drink while waiting, and instead of my usual cheapskate instincts taking over, I figured it was a very small amount of money (2 bucks) and she would probably appreciate it a LOT, and she did.

We waited for an hour or so and then headed for a jeepney to the Jenra mall for an afternoon movie. Bad Boys II. DEFINITE academy award material!!! The good news was that it was the best sleep I got in all my time in Angeles!

We headed down to the large grocery type store on the bottom floor and bought some stuff – D’art’s camera was eating through Filipino batteries at an amazingly rapid rate – and then I bought Flaca her THIRD 300 peso card of cellphone ‘load’ during our time together, meanwhile giving her a ton of shit that she never seemed to use any of that load by calling ME! It was completely worth it though, as on the jeepney ride back to Fields she sat draped all over me, and I felt on top of the WORLD, like I was on the ultimate vacation in an exotic land (lol, for those that know Angeles) with a super hot girlfriend molding her body into mine.

Back to the room at the Orchid for a “nap”, which of course led to fooling around and round one for the day with Flaca. And of course I AGAIN couldn’t finish. Temporary insanity (or ‘Kryptonite’) was at work again. And the fact that sex with Flaca just wasn’t as good compared to what I had with others combined with the fact that I so desperately WANTED sex with Flaca to be as good as what I had with others, and so desperately wanted her to WANT to have sex with me and ENJOY IT that I was thinking FAR, far too much instead of just banging away the way I wanted to – to impale that tiny body with some rock hard dick. And of course afterward I had to try and explain what the problem was when I couldn’t finish: I’m CRAZY, and do you really LIKE having sex with a fat old guy like me? ‘Of course, Honey…’ Yeah, right. But I liked her. So I kept trying.

Flaca and I went out to dinner and barhopped a little that night and later sang karaoke again. Flaca wasn’t too prone to compliments, but she really liked my singing for some reason. Maybe it was because I was the only one on the Island that could remotely carry a tune. I don’t know…

We had our longest and most serious conversation of our short relationship over dinner at Ristorante Verona above the newly opened Lanceleot (formerly Volcano) Bar. I tried to feel out Flaca for how she felt about me, as her often standoffish nature was soooo different than how other girls had treated me and I had put a lot of effort into the challenge of trying to win her over. Please don’t ask me WHY I cared about this, I admit that I am one crazy bastard and that I was simply GAGA over Flaca, but at the time it was indeed important to me.

Flaca said she liked me very much and was very happy to be with me, but it was hard to share her emotions and that she was holding them back because she knew I was leaving and didn’t want to get hurt. In a comPLETEly hypothetical question – something I stressed to her 5 times before I asked – I asked her what she would do if I invited her to VISIT me back in the WORLD (as I don’tlive in the U.S., this might hypothetically be possible). She said she’d go with me, no questions asked. Amazing. From some others I had met in Angeles I would have known that would have been the answer before I ever asked the question. But from Flaca, the apparently cold-hearted pro, this was rather shocking. Maybe she really did like me?

As Flaca was bored to tears barhopping anywhere but Voodoo, I was able to drop her off at her stay-in and bar for a couple hours that night so I could go barhopping and talk to some amigas in peace before we headed out for karaoke. Bananitas girl informed me that she had gotten in trouble a couple days before as she was busted for doing a short-time afternoon ‘sneak-out’ (no barfine paid to the bar) with me a couple days before. I felt a little bad about it, but hey, the AC barowners swear up and down that the girls are free to do what they want in their free time, and she was dismissed in plenty of time to make it to her shift on time that night.

Airport Girl was absolutely giddy to see me when I went into her bar, and I had a drink with her that she didn’t touch – much to the disappointment of her friend, one of Epi’s dates that met me at the airport in Manila my first day in town, that always seemed to get a drink out of me when I walked into the bar. Of course, etiquette-wise the friend couldn’t really order ANOTHER one until AG finished hers, and AG was in far too much of a frenzy doting on me to even think about drinking her drink that she didn’t like drinking in the first place. So she told AG in Tagalog to drink faster… And AG squealed on her to me! Guess who had just had their last drink on my tab?

I told AG that I was likely sleeping alone that night so I could actually SLEEP (haha, but I actually really DID need to sleep), but that I would definitely see her the next night, my last night in AC, after a goodbye AC barhop. She seemed OK with this, which slightly eased my guilt over the way I completely took her for granted. She treated me like a KING during my trip, and while I was honest with her about my desire to do other girls – rationalized by the fact that they were supposedly ‘short time only’ girls – she was clearly hurt by the fact that I wasn’t exclusive. But as Epi said to me often before we parted company in Bangkok: It’s YOUR vacation, do it on YOUR terms. So I told her I’d see her the next night and left.

I made a point of heading to both Gecko’s and Misty’s for a quick drink with the previous night’s short time girls, and was surprised to find the Gecko’s girl nearly as depressed over my butterfly ways as the Misty’s girl that had been so rudely sent away that morning after thinking we had a date. She said that she had wanted to fight with Airport Girl after her attitude that she OWNED me the night before. I quickly reminded her that SHE was the one that had said short time only, and she replied that that hadn’t meant that she didn’t like me… Whatever!

Misty’s girl seemed to feel a lot better after I bought her a drink, and at least saved a bit of face from all the other girls in the bar by having me come back and pay attention to her again. Of course (after apologizing profusely for that morning’s scene) I spent most of the time with her asking about some HOTTIES in the Misty’s lineup that I would have killed to barfine if I hadn’t had two wives already well attached to my hip that I was having trouble enough juggling…

I picked Flaca back up about 11 PM, and we headed out for Karaoke and a few games of pool at the front bar at the Orchid. I suck SOOOO bad at pool, but it’s fun to play sometimes. Flaca sucked far worse than I did, but it was fun to do things with her besides hanging out in a gogo bar which bored her to tears and watching Tagalog movies, which did the same for me. I had had a decent amount to drink that night and loved the loud drone of the A/C at the Orchid, so sleeping that night was actually not the usual battle it had been during my trip.

Of course we had sex before lights out, as well as an aborted session in the morning (gotta wait for THAT story). And, of course, I didn’t finish either time. Which meant that I hadn’t finished since going to sleep very late the night before. But looking back, I STILL had the time of my life that day. Even the mediocre sex in AC was pretty damned good!!! OH, what I wouldn’t do for some mediocre Angeles City sex right now!

Photos: Flaca 162 163

Photos added