The Boy In Between

Filipina”, that’s an exotic word, and that’s how they called the local women here.

I remember 4 years ago, when we were discreetly drinking on our final night of the youth program in the back of a dark and mosquito-filled garden, which I got blamed for later on, the Russian baby guy was bragging about how he had hooked up with a Filipina in Cebu. That was the attitude I found irritating in certain white guys living in Asia who received too many privileges and undeserving attention while treating the local culture & people like trash, especially young hunky ones. And that thought has been following me like a dark cloud waiting to drop the heaviest kind of rain when I was in bed with them, I guess.

But back to the Filipina, she invited me over that Friday night. She looked like a doll, a sassy kind with strong eyebrows, tanned skin and hair dyed in brown. She seemed playful. Western kind of playfulness. She greeted me at her place with a whiskey bottle, a piece of cake left over from the birthday party the day before, and a smile. “Let’s play Truth or Dare,” she said. I wasn’t sure what I was getting myself into, but she was the one that I picked out out of the responses I got that night from my Craigslist ad (and at strikingly rapid pace, to my surprise, since I had had no idea that market here was such upbeat).

Although it wasn’t meant to be that way, I chose Truth more than Dare. And when she did the same, I got a chance to take a closer peek at her personal life. She had a brother, and a family that fell out at some points. She couldn’t think of any male friends. She wanted to be a History teacher but now doing household chores only. She seemed submissive. I didn’t know if she was into whatever it was she was pretending to enjoy, the frisky act, the sultry mistress, the cool girl who knew how to spin the bottle, but I felt protective of her. There was a moment I thought I noticed a tear being held back. That wasn’t her idea, or any other’s idea, of how Truth or Dare should turn out it seemed.

But still, she got undressed in front of me. She wanted my pants down as well. When the game was left halfway since other thing got us all carried away, she was already lying in bed. I was kissing her neck. I was moving down towards her bosoms. They were round, full, and felt as it they could burst anytime if I squeezed too hard. The next moment I knew, my tongue was already inside, trying to move aimlessly in an unfamiliar realm. I could hear her moans. They sounded very breathier when my fingers were in the place where my tongue had been. She reached for my cock after that but it wasn’t hard. Not at all.

“Fuck him,” she said to me.

“Later”¸ I said, thinking it was still very early for that, and wondering if she was so hasty to see it happen because she actually wanted to or if it was her boyfriend’s idea.

Yes, she had a boyfriend. And yes, stereotype was true in this case, he was a white guy, American to be exact. The response I got from my ad was more from him, I could say, than her, since “The girl would love to watch the guy get mouth fucked” didn’t sound like something coming from her, word choice wise and also character wise.

He was also unemployed, a former ranger as how he proudly introduced himself. But basically, he was paying for everything. He was also extremely muscular, to the extent that it looked like a fake human with tiny head walking. He talked in big words, citing how he was the epitome of a mature “real man” who fucked female officers in the troop casually and could swipe off terrorism off Marawi in a blink had he been deployed. He framed me as a “leftist” and a “millennial” who base his knowledge of left-wing media coverage, living in a bubble thinking life was sugarcoated in pink. I politely shot that down one by one, implying my sources of political knowledge was much more inclusive than a random girl he claimed to had banged from the war zone area. And even it’s not my business, I told him he shouldn’t treat his girlfriend like she was just somebody to be ordered around.

I got hard a bit since he was the first one to take off his clothes. Don’t get me wrong, he wasn’t attractive in any sense, especially after the “cooks in the military aren’t real men” & “Asian men are much more immature than American men” statements. But it was a bit of a turn on for me being with a couple for the first time, playing that game, and getting that big arrogant man to pull my boxers down like a good ole puppy. Of course, I didn’t miss my opportunities to insert some sarcasm to the replies to whatever he said.

And I got even harder when his dare was to suck my dick, which he obeyed with a smile. At that moment, I could fully confirm that it was his idea, setting this occasion up in the first place, for him to explore his sexual fantasies but he was hiding behind his girlfriend’s cover instead so that his “masculinity” could stay intact. Why? Easy. He sucked my cock like it was his life. “The girl wants to see it” my ass.

And also, don’t get me wrong since I don’t think people should be judged based on look, but what I found even more embarrassing for his proudly introduced American figure was the fact that his penis was actually pretty… disproportional to his body size. I thought he realized that himself, trying to cover it and to find another way to prove his masculinity in the face of an “immature leftist millennial” who had bigger dick. So when the Filipina said “fuck him” very early in the beginning, I knew that it was him who said “fuck me”.

But it wasn’t enough. Definitely wasn’t enough for me to stay hard. That mentality was too toxic for me to get hard although he was trying to suck my cock and play with his ass. “Come on my face then,” he said. But I noticed the girl. She was left on the side. I wasn’t sure what was going in her mind. I didn’t want to see Asian women being treated like that, a helper in the house, a sex toy, and an excuse for guys who didn’t even have balls to admit his their sexuality. I made my excuse and left, thanking them for the cake and the drinks.

The next morning, Facebook suggested his profile in the friend suggestion corner. I clicked on it, out of curiosity and, not surprisingly, his page was full of alt-right rants, including some towards LGBTQ community. I guess I could look at him with contempt now, being aware that I knew the secret to decode that toxic masculiny (but what for?). On the other hand, I couldn’t shut the thoughts about the Filipina, not only because the scent of her inner body was still lingering around my fingers, but also that haunting confused look in that pretty face.

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This entry was published on August 13, 2017 at 9:37 pm. It’s filed under one night stand, Travel, Women and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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