When she told me her name, I suddenly recognized her. Bea (pronounced “Bay-a”). A dancer I had lusted over during my summer trip at Magic Moments, while visiting with my girlfriends Margie and Christina—Bea was the most beautiful, sexy dancer there. But Margie told me she had a steady barfine (which, I found out, meant someone had paid a pile of pesos—maybe 24,000 or 36,000—to barfine her permanently, or at least until they got tired of each other). Bea hadn’t even noticed my adoring stares then.
I had asked Margie about Bea when I stopped into Magic Moments to barfine Margie for my birthday party, and she told me she thought Bea was dancing at Camelot. I had looked for her there, but not found her. Well, duh, no wonder. I didn’t know whether Margie had just been mistaken or deliberately tried to throw me off…
After talking with her a few minutes, I barfined Bea. Wow. She turned out to be one of the best lovers I’d ever had. She believed in going all-out to please her man, and we had no-holds-barred sex, and lots of it. She was very affectionate and attentive, noticing what I liked and pleasuring me. Pretty quickly, I knew I was going to barfine her the next night too, and I told her that before we went to bed.
Photos: Bea 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59
The next day, Teresa called. I told her she should stay at her cousin’s place another night. Also, I told Bea that I had a sort-of girlfriend, but that I just come back from a four-day trip with her, and she wanted to stay with her cousin for a few days. I didn’t make much of it.
Bea and I had a great time together. She was all a guy could want in bed, and it didn’t get old during the four days and nights I spent with her. She was very pleasant to be with, and fun. At night, we went to her bar and partied; I bought lady drinks for a few of her friends. Bea danced and stripped, attracting a lot of attention. I danced with her and her friends, both on stage and at the stools along the stage—some was dirty dancing. Although I’m not big on barhopping, I had the most fun ever in a bar with Bea.
We went to her room a couple times to fetch new clothes, and I got a glimpse of how a bar girl lives. She had a single room, maybe 150 – 175 sq. ft., no indoor plumbing (I didn’t see where the bathroom was), corrugated metal roof with plenty of openings to the outside for…creatures…to come in (and there were a few scurrying around the floor and the outside). Nicely decorated, though, pictures of her family on the walls. She appeared to be one of the better-off bar girls.
After the second night with Bea, I had a bit of a problem situation on my hands. I really liked her. And Teresa too. Through experience, I’ve learned that I’m most comfortable keeping my lying to a minimum, it’s just my personal style. I prefer girls who are not consumed with jealousy, and I give them the opportunity to eliminate themselves from my “favored” list. Then, I end up with girls like Teresa. So I told Bea that Teresa wanted to be with me, but I wanted to be with her (Bea). We talked about the situation a bit, and Bea told me that she wouldn’t blame Teresa for being jealous. I told Bea that Teresa wasn’t the jealous type, and asked her if it would be OK if Teresa came with us for the evening and spent the night. She was uneasy with that, but assented.
Anyway, when Teresa called, I had to tell her that I had found a girl I really liked and wanted to spend another night with. And I talked with her about that, because she was obviously hurt. Perhaps it helped a bit that I told her she was my number one girl, but I was just a horny, self-centered bastard, and I didn’t blame her for being jealous and hurt. Teresa didn’t end up getting together with us that night, but on the fourth night—my last night in AC—she joined us in the bar. It wasn’t a particularly comfortable situation, however. Both girls agreed that they should be jealous, and that I wasn’t making either of them very happy.
Later, in my room, we all got naked (more or less), but each girl went into the bathroom while I did the other girl. Teresa knew this wasn’t like all the other situations, where I had a random girl we had both picked, for whom I had no special feelings. She wouldn’t participate like she usually did, licking and stroking me in ways and places that she knew I liked. But I was not surprised, she had been professing her love for me since before I had arrived, and I think I was the second love of her barely 19 years (she’d had a long-term boyfriend; when he broke up with her shortly before I met her, she had to come to AC to work). I was really conflicted about hurting her. But not enough to forgo the pleasures with Bea.
To make it up to her, I took her with me to Manila for two days on my way to Indonesia, and treated her like a princess. We took a private car to Manila (Irwin wasn’t available, he sent an associate), and got to the Lotus Garden Hotel late. We just went out to a nice dinner, and spent a passionate night together (her stomach cramps had subsided).
I had to get additional pages in my passport, one reason I stayed again at the Lotus Garden Hotel. In the morning, I walked the few blocks to the US Embassy—boy, was I glad I got an early start for a change. The necessary window closed at 10:30 or 11, I would have been SOTL if I had been much later since I was leaving for Jakarta the next morning (Saturday) with no pages left for the Indonesian visa. They said to return at 12:30, which I did—only to find the windows closed for lunch. I rapped on the window and waved my receipt, and fortunately someone came up and gave me my passport back. It was all pretty efficient, except for having to take my completed application for extra pages to the cashier and get a receipt for the NO-CHARGE service (???), and I was in and out both times in under ten minutes. Security was quite heavy, though, and I had to check my cellphone at the door.
Collecting Teresa from the hotel, we did tourist stuff like taking a ride around old Manila in a horse-drawn cart, and had an expensive drink in the famous Manila Hotel.
Photo: Teresa 60
We walked around Intramuros, and went into a museum there—where I dropped my camera and broke the LCD screen, resulting in a $140 repair on a $250 camera when I got home—and the necessity of purchasing another camera in Jakarta when I discovered I wouldn’t be able to get it repaired in there within a reasonable amount of time.
That night, she suggested we go out to find another girl (sweetheart that she is), so we went to LA Café. We spent several hours there, but I really didn’t see a lot of talent—and there were some pretty ugly overweight girls, too. Teresa didn’t spot anyone, either. After a while, we went upstairs where a couple of bands were playing. One of the girls in a band was take-out material, and I saw maybe a couple of other girls that I would have considered if they had not already been with guys. But I told Teresa I just wanted to check out the place, and wanted to spend the night with her alone (which was actually true, in the absence of an available super-hottie). I really do like that girl, more than is healthy for a monger like me.
So we just went back to the hotel and had another nice night together.
I took her shopping at Robinsons before I left (on Christmas eve day), and bought her everything she wanted (which actually wasn’t much, about 3,500 pesos worth of clothing). And suggested she buy something for her sister (the one who had gone back to school—she said—with the money I had given her before).
We took a cab, I got off at the airport to catch my flight to Jakarta, and she continued on to her parents’ place after a tearful goodbye.
