Fifteen

Author's note: These chapters are NOT stand-alones...The story starts here

In the beginning...2

It's dark outside. Have I overslept? Hard to say. If this was Dorchester, it gets dark before 5PM this time of year. Still, the darkness is disconcerting.

Did Lyn never come? I turn on my side and look at the clock. It's 6:20PM.

OK, no problem. I briefly spiff up a bit and take the elevator up to the hotel's Rooftop Grill. For what amounts to $6, if not amazed by high cuisine, I am OK with what I can order and am well stuffed by 7:40 when I go back down to my room.

If six bucks is the cost of a 'high cost' hotel meal, eating at home here will be dirt cheap.

So far, the economic boxes are all being checked.

The weather is on the warm side, but it wasn't bad tonight on the open air rooftop. That's a lesson. Getting higher than street level in a house may have a real value. If I am down on the street later I can check out that assumption.

But it's not like a stay in Houston where it doesn't cool off at night. If I stay, a place with a second or third floor might be useful.

Additionally, whether there are such places to rent has yet to be determined.

I decide to take a shower and change my clothes. It is possible that Lyn actually shows up and rings me to come down. If she doesn't I will ask the concierge if there is a place I can take a taxi to for some entertainment a little later.

Lyn said she gets off at 8, so I don't expect a call until closer to 9 or later. If I don't hear from her by 10 I will go out on my own. I really have no idea what to expect.

I am just channel surfing when there is a knock on my door at 9:15. I have not called for room service and there is no reason why anyone would be knocking. Leaving the TV on to provide noise to cover my movement, I get up from the bed, walk over to the door, and look out the peephole.

It is Lyn and maybe someone else. I am not sure and maybe this will end badly, but I slip the chain from the door, slide back the deadbolt and open the door.

Sure enough, there stands Lyn and another girl. The other kid is, if such a thing is possible, even younger looking and smaller than is Lyn — her long hair and eyes as black as her partner's. Her feet are in flip-flops. Both girls are bare-legged and wearing simple dresses ending mid-thigh. If they have any makeup on it is undetectable.

Almost immediately Lyn closes the distance between us, kisses my cheek and announces other girl's name is Jana.

Standing back a little after the kiss, I simply say, Good evening, Jana.

The kid smiles, nods a bit, closes the distance, kisses my cheek and says, Yes, Sir Craig, good evening.

OK, let me turn off the TV and I will be ready to go.

I see a confused expression on two faces and then Lyn asks, Sir, we have never seen one of these rooms. May we enter and look?

Once again, I am hearing alarm bells. Am I going to be rolled? But once again, I allow it. Yes, of course, come in.

They do, closing the door behind them. Whatever I thought, well, that is not what is happening. They are giving the room a good once-over, checking out every corner before doing the same with the bathroom. I hear Jana saying something about the 'CR' being big and fancy.

I ask Lyn what a CR is, and she giggles before explaining that it's their term for what I call the bathroom. I guess CR means comfort room. And that is probably even a better a name for it than bathroom.

Jana whispers something to Lyn before Lyn asks me if they might try the bed. I gather that touching things that are not theirs requires permission. I give the permission and both hop up on the bed, apparently checking out the comfort level. More giggling ensues.

Sir, join us! So says Jana. Maybe there isn't any harm in doing so, but I don't want to be rolled, so before I do I turn to Lyn and mention, Do you mind if I secure the door?

Sir, I am sorry we not do that! Yes, always! It important we all be safe.

Go figure. Rather than freaking out, they want me to lock them in with me. I guess things can still go bad, but I am not feeling like this is a problem.

Deadbolt in place and chain back on the door I return to the bed and mount it, sitting between the two of them.

No sooner than I have settled between the two, Lyn is unbuttoning my shirt and Jana has her hands in my hair. I put a hand under Lyn's chin and ask her what she is doing.

You will stay if there are two of us. Correct?

You have it backward. I said, if I stay there would have to be more than one of you. I didn't say I was staying.

We will show you why you want to stay, right Jana?

I don't hear a word from Jana. She has not agreed.

Lyn, Jana has not said she agrees with you. Maybe you need to stop.

No silly, she agree. You not hear it. She show me her agreement.

How?

Like this. And with that, Lyn raises her eyebrows twice, giggles and tells me, See? ... double eyebrows rise up twice again, means yes. She do that.

Lyn returns to her unbuttoning tasks. It may be time to call their bluff, if they are bluffing. I turn towards Jana and pull the girl in for a kiss.

Jana is kissing back. So far there is no bluff. She has her tongue inspecting my molars. Lyn has my shirt as unbuttoned as she can get it and is loosening my slacks, purpose undeclared.

My attention is pretty well locked on Jana, her mouth on my mouth, her hands in my hair. Jana is pushing me to lie back on the bed as she crawls over me, all the while maintaining the mouth to mouth contact.

There is not a damned thing wrong with the girl and I can't say I am not enjoying this. I sure as hell am. What has my head reeling a bit is that they are not here for a bit of cash tonight. They are looking at me for a ride to forever.

I can't say that is my plan. It isn't, but maybe in a weird way it is. If these gals can pave the way to a good living situation, they as my concierges, they might well come along for the ride.

Whether I have this epiphany before or after Lyn has pulled down my slacks and grabbed my cock, is unclear to me. But have me in-hand, she most assuredly does.

Oh, hell. What the fuck. Let's see how far this goes.

I disconnect from Jana, put Lyn beneath me, slide her panties off and, without any more rigmarole, just plunge in. She surely isn't complaining. Her smile is wide, as are her eyes, as I pound her unprotected cunt.

Jana has her hands back in my hair, her lips on my right ear as I fuck her friend.

Lyn is murmuring, cum, cum. I decide it is time to switch partners. I pull out of Lyn amid loud protests. I tell her to be quiet as I pull Jana under me. The girl comes willingly and is more than ready to be relieved of her panties.

I plow into her, only to hear her cry out. I am about to stop but she does not want me to stop and pushes me forward. Jana is now right there with me, a big smile on her face. Lyn nestles in and grabs my head, seeking my lips.

I am fucking one and kissing the other. I have never in my life done any such thing before. I am also getting as hard as I have ever been, just as Lyn captures my lower lip between her teeth, biting down a good bit and giving it a good shake.

Releasing my lip, her mouth goes to my ear, and she whispers in my ear that I have just taken Jana's virginity. That must have been the cry I heard earlier.

Never in my life have I ever taken any girl's virginity. I whisper back to Lyn, How old is she?

The answer, Seventeen, seems to put me over the edge and I flood this young cunt with all the cum I have.

I roll off of Jana and just hold both close to me, as all that has transpired sinks in. It isn't 10PM yet. I have not been in GenSan for ten hours and I now have two wannabe girlfriends. Neither of them of drinking age back home. One clearly jailbait back home.

Just ten minutes into this reverie, Lyn says, Come na! Get up. We go out!

Na? What is 'na'?

Jana smacks Lyn, English, Lyn! ... Sir Craig, 'na' means 'now' in your language.

OK, no harm done. Yes, where are we going, Lyn?

We go to a resto-bar near here. It nice. Sometime there foreigners there.

Resto-bar? What type of bar is that?

Lyn laughs and offers, Silly, resto short for restaurant. So it both a restaurant and a bar. A resto-bar.

Is it walking distance to this resto-bar, or do we need a taxi?

Silly, no need for a taxi. We take a tricycle.

Tricycle? Really? They surely can't mean what I think of as a tricycle. But I don't ask. I will learn soon enough. Now is the time to redress and comb my hair. The girls take a bit longer in the 'CR' before announcing that they are ready.

Exiting the elevator, I get a, Good evening, from hotel employees without as much as a sign of surprise that I am accompanied by these two young girls. No indeed, the fact is that the girls are standing erect and dignified. That is being responded to in kind by the hotel staff. They, too, are erect and dignified. No smirks, smiles, or eye rolls to be seen.

I feel like, every moment, it is one new lesson after another.

There aren't as many beggars outside the hotel doors as there were before. There are a few, but the armed guard by the door shoos them away and asks me if I require a taxi. Lyn informs 'Kuya' that they only need a tricycle. I see a momentary surprise on his face and then he moves into action, signaling for a little device that is a motorcycle encased in a small metal shell to come to us.

The shell has an extra wheel attached to the side opposite the rear tire of the motorcycle. And so, here is the tricycle! I get it. What I don't get is how I will fit into it. It appears to be made for these diminutive Filipinos. But I do fit in, if but barely.

I am sitting in the front on a seat to the right of the driver, my legs jammed in a bit by the tight, foreshortened flat bottom and the angled rise in front of that tight space, allowing room for knees and little room for feet. The girls are in the back across from each other on small benches.

Lyn calls this man 'Kuya' also and tells him something in their language. We go down Pioneer Avenue and turn left on what I will learn in later times is Magsayay Avenue to the resto-bar.

The cost for the three of us is twenty-four pesos, or about 55 cents US. If this is standard Filipino transportation, I will just need to get used to the cramped quarters. The cost is well within the acceptable range.

The tables are in the open air, though there is a roof above, shielding us from the sun that has long ago gone down and from possible rain that is not currently threatening.

Lyn asks if I want more Jack, she is not sure they will have any here, or maybe I want a beer tonight. I think she is trying to keep me sober. I don't say anything regarding my concern, but I agree that, yes, a beer sounds good. Lyn orders two beers for me, and Sprites for Jana and herself. She also orders a plate of something she calls pork sisig, a plate of bistek, some calamari and three portions of rice. I am not consulted on this. I guess it will be my obligation to pay, but all else, all the decisions have been appropriated by Lyn. Once again, I decide to hold my tongue.

Once again, she calls our waiter, 'Kuya.'

Lyn, are each of these guys really named 'Kuya'?

Oh! Sorry, you not know. Kuya mean brother. It what we call them. They are all brother... they all Filipino.

Another lesson. A racial identity. They are all family. I am a foreigner and therefore will never be Kuya. But, in some ways, I am a prize. I am their prize, if they can keep me.

The beer arrives. It is the same as I had in Manila, San Miguel Pale Pilsen. In Manila it was served along with an ice filled glass. There, I didn't use the ice and asked that I just be given a clean glass. The bottles are cold and, even if they weren't, I don't want ice in my beer.

Here, in this place, it is just served in the bottle, no ice. That works for me. In both cases, Manila and here, a small napkin covers the top as if it is a type of sanitary cover for the uncapped bottle. In a way, Filipinos seem far more respectful of their customers' need for cleanliness than are folks in the USA.

The food is more than I need, having eaten this evening already, and then I have another moment of understanding. These girls might have not had much to eat today. I am their meal ticket, literally.

I try the calamari but the offering is overcooked for me and far too rubbery. I tell the girls that the dish is all theirs.

The bistek is a beef dish. It turns out that that it is basically a stew meat cut of beef, but cut into small slices. It is prepared so well that it is both tender and tasty. I pretty much monopolize this dish finding an appetite I didn't know I had.

I am not sure I would have even tried pork sisig, if anyone had told me what was in it when served. But all the girls said is, It is good. Try!

Yeh, well, it is good. Just don't ask what it's made from.

Both the bistek and the sisig pretty much require rice and so all the rice is finished, as are all the platters as well as my two beers. The gals have now ordered some non-alcoholic coconut drink that has been served in coconut shells. They are having a fine time. I am on my third and fourth beer. A platter of French fries has appeared as has a platter of something that sort of looks like spaghetti but has chunked up hotdogs in it, and the thing is sweet.

I leave the noodle thing for the girls and munch on the fries, which have been seasoned with some type of artificial yellow cheese powder. It tastes a little overwhelming, is salty as all get out and stains my fingers yellow with the sticky cheesy powder. But most assuredly, it makes the need for beer fairly intense.

Others join us at our table for a bit. There is a fellow from Belgium and his girlfriend. I gather he is married to another Filipina, but he has split the sheets with the wife and now bunks with this girl. He seems nice enough.

She, the girlfriend, says that the wife has a tight grip on her rosaries and is something of a pain.

That piece of intelligence is more information than I need. But I suspect the targets of that edification are my two girls rather than for me. I don't think it was for my benefit. It seems to be a warning to the girls not to forget what is important and what will trip you up... a caution to not lose track of your man in your search for salvation.

In that, I hear the crash of steel on steel. Another train making a coupling.

Jana mentions that the Belgian speaks all their dialects.

I guess I look a little confused. So Jana proceeds to explain about the national dialect and how it is different from the ones these girls grew up with at home. These things don't sound like dialects to me. They sound like different languages. The Belgium guy confirms my suspicion.

That couple moves on. Two other girls ask to join us, but my girls tell them they are not welcome. I am about to ask why, but Lyn must have guessed that I needed an explanation.

Sir, they are prostitutes. Not smart to add them. If you want more, we get good girls for you. Not them.

OK, so bear with me for a moment.

These two who jumped into my bed and fucked like rabbits see themselves as good girls, as distinct from prostitutes. I am wrapping my head around that as three girls and two guys approach. These are old school chums of Lyn. They are excited to see her and ask for introductions.

We sit with them for about fifteen minutes before Jana nudges Lyn and, I gather, tells her she is being rude to me because I don't know what is being said at the table. They are all speaking their mother tongue.

Lyn says something to these folks, and they say in response, Nosebleed! and promptly leave.

The gals inform me that the term refers to those who are uncomfortable speaking English. It gives them a nose bleed.

Jana asks, Go na?

Lyn turns to me and asks if it is OK to leave and go back to the hotel.

It is midnight and I am all for calling it a night. I settle up. The four beers costs me less than a buck seventy-five. The total bill including all five dishes, the rice and the drinks for the gals cost under eight dollars.

They insist on riding the tricycle back to the hotel. I am not worried about the cost. In total, once again all three of us will only cost about fifty-five cents in equivalent US currency. It's just that I don't figure I need them to ride shotgun. I tell them I am OK getting back to the hotel on my own. But then, I am missing an important element. They aren't leaving me tonight.

No, Sir, they are going to stay with me in the hotel room. I gently complain that the hotel will need to be notified. Once again, I am about to learn a lesson. The hotel assumes they will be staying with me. No notification is needed.

I ask them if they need me to get them some toiletries from the hotel. I am informed that they have everything they need in their bags. I learn later that this included a change of clothing.

And so, as my head hits the pillow this very first night in General Santos City, I am not alone. Rather, I seem to have two 'good girls' who see themselves as mine. I have never agreed that they are to be my girls. Yes, they have volunteered, but I really haven't accepted them. ... Have I?

This will take some time to digest, but tonight all I want to do is sleep. OK, well, that was the plan, but I have never in my life slept between two girls. One seems to be happy to sleep, but the other is stroking my pride and joy. She whispers in my ear. She wants what Jana got earlier. She wants cum from me.

It doesn't take long for Lyn to get me hard. I mount her, missionary position, and fuck her good and long. For a while, I think Jana is sleeping. She isn't. She is watching us. I reach my hand out toward her. Balancing my arm by her on my knuckles, I push my thumb into her cunt and start thumb fucking her as I fuck Lyn.

I am not sure how much pleasure Jana gets out of it, but she isn't complaining and eventually Lyn does get my cum.

Having two girlfriends might well be the death of me if fucking oneself to death is possible.

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In the Beginning... 3