Puerto Gallera Passion
by
Mason
SMASHWORDS EDITION
Published by Wendy on Smashwords
Copyright © 2010 by Wendy and Papaya Passion Press
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Chapter One
From the air, Manila had a sodden look. Steve and Jeff were on a Boeing 747 wide body Jumbo Jet on the approach to land at Ninoy Aquino International Airport. Many yellow lights were sprinkled through the darkness, but it didn't have the massive lighting of other major cities.
That was the first clue Steve had that The Philippines truly was indescribably poorer than the United States and Japan.
Jeff jabbed Steve in the side with his elbow. "I bet you that you've lost your bet by this time tomorrow night."
"No way -- I'm taking your five grand. I need it to pay my lawyer."
Jeff was Steve's best friend. Actually, his only friend. Over the years since he graduated from college, began to work and got married, he'd lost track of all the others. But Jeff and he had worked together at the same office for more years than either of them wanted to think about.
"It doesn't look beautiful from the air," Jeff said. "In fact, Filipino cities are not beautiful at all. But just wait until you see all the babes. You'll fall in love a thousand times before lunch."
"All I need is a sunny white sand beach and some palm trees," Steve said. "I just need to rest."
Thanks to this long trip, Steve needed even more rest than when he'd left Omaha. It was hard to believe that he had Steve had met at the airport before dawn nearly thirty hours ago. They'd had to catch a connecting flight to the Delta/Northwest hub of Detroit. That was the monster -- over twelve hours in the air. Then wait and catch a flight to Tokyo. Then wait and catch the flight to Manila.
He needed to take a shower. He needed to shave. And he needed about ten hours of sleep in a fully horizontal position -- not leaning back in an airplane seat. But he wouldn't get that for a long time yet, because they had to board the bus to Puerto Gallera at the Centerpoint Hotel by 7:30 the next morning.
Steve checked his watch. And it was already 11:00 PM local time.
And they weren't even on the ground yet. And he had no idea how long it would take to get through the formalities of customs. Or to take a cab from the airport to the hotel.
He'd never traveled to another country before, not even Canada, let alone one as exotic and far away as The Philippines. He was excited, but had to admit he hadn't realized just how tiring the long trip would be.
Jeff just smirked at him. "You might as write me a check right now. No way in hell you're going to resist that beautiful little brown pussy. Soon you'll be asking me, Betty? Who's Betty? Was I ever married to a big ugly bitch like her? I don't believe it."
Chapter Two
Jeff's vulgarity bothered Steve, but he tried not to show it.
Steve's friend just wouldn't believe that sex was not the end all and be all of Steve's life. It couldn't be, not when you were married for over fifteen years.
Not when you were married to a woman like Betty.
Betty had never really liked sex, Steve understood now. But she'd put up with it in the beginning, when Steve was young and horny, and took for granted a husband and wife were supposed to use a bed for screwing as well as sleeping together.
But as the years went by, Betty gained weight and Steve's constant erection went away. And they had their other problems, which kept both of them from being in the mood. So sex became less and less a part of their marriage, except on certain occasions that seemed to demand it, such as their anniversary.
Steve sometimes wanted other women, but never followed through. So he focused on his work, and jacked off in the bathroom.
But that was in the past. He and Betty finally acknowledged the inevitable, and soon their divorce would be final.
Unexpectedly, it turned out to be more passionate than their marriage even though they didn't have children and neither one of them cheated.
Thanks to his focus on his job, Steve had a high income and accumulated assets, but Betty wanted more than a fifty-fifty split. The negotiations and attacks and counter-attacks dragged on for months before they finally reached a final agreement.
Sometimes Steve thought the entire process was their two lawyers colluding to drive up their fees. Betty had a good job of her own. She didn't need money from him to live an affluent lifestyle. And during their marriage she'd been a pretty good keeper of the castle, never letting them go into debt too deep. She wasn't a shopping addict like some women Steve knew.
Along with the divorce, Steve's job became even more stressful as the company eliminated an entire department then assigned its workload to Steve's. And they'd been overloaded before that.
Now they were nearly done restructuring and realigning the company, giving Steve and Jeff a chance to get away.
Chapter Three
Steve had always envied Jeff his bachelor freedom. And how Jeff was always taking advantage of it.
In earlier years, he always seemed to have some hot babe he was dating. Then for a while he seemed to go out of circulation or lost interest or something.
Then, five years ago, he surprised the office by announcing he was visiting The Philippines on his next vacation.
He came back with a sunburn and eyes gleaming brighter than his skin.
He'd found his true religion -- and it was Filipino women.
Since then, he'd gone back about once a year, always counting the months. Sometimes he still dated American women, but just didn't seem to have his heart in it. Probably the women felt it.
Knowing Jeff, he may even have been insensitive enough to talk about his exploits in The Philippines with those American women, so of course they'd have dumped him. Steve wouldn't blame them.
When his divorce from Betty became public information, Jeff immediately began insisting that Steve go to The Philippines with him.
"It's a great place," Jeff said. "It's just what you need. Beautiful ladies who love sex."
"Tell me again about the palm trees and the tropical beaches."
"Yeah, it's got them too," Jeff agreed. "It's a beautiful country out in the rural areas. You'll love the beaches. But it's the babes that make it first class. Come on, you know you want to find out what you've been missing all these years."
Steve really thought he'd enjoy the country. He hated cold. He hated snow. And it'd been November when they first started talking halfway seriously about going together. By January he was dreaming of the hot sands and cool South Pacific winds.
Well, maybe it was technically the South China Sea, but all that water seemed part of the Pacific Ocean when Steve looked at the map.
But Steve just couldn't picture himself in bed with some slim brown beauty half his age.
Jeff didn't like to talk about the details, but Steve wasn't an idiot. He knew the women he slept with had to be, basically prostitutes. Jeff wasn't as overweight as Steve, but over the years he'd lost his athletic figure and most of his hair. Obviously he was attractive for his American-sized income and bank account, and nothing else.
Steve just didn't feel comfortable with that idea. He'd never paid for sex and never would.
He didn't know if The Philippines had crack or not, but he didn't want to get involved with the local equivalent of crack whores.
"They're not like that," Jeff insisted when Steve explained his position. "Yes, of course they do it for the money. But they enjoy it. They enjoy the sex. They enjoy the night life. They enjoy the lifestyle. Heck, they just plain enjoy life. They grow up in little shacks, but they don't cry and complain like we do, even though we have a hundred times more than they ever will. They don't take things for granted, so they enjoy everything they can. They're very friendly. They're fun."
Jeff paused and took a breath. "They're just what you need."
Chapter Four
By February, Steve was agreeing that getting away to a tropical paradise beach was just what he needed after months of twelve hour days working for the company and the tortuous negotiations of his divorce.
But he stood his ground when it came to sleeping with the local women.
"That's not me," he told Jeff. "I'm not some dirty old man after younger women."
"They don't look at it that way. They believe it's good for young women to marry older men. We're more settled down and mature. We're less likely to have other women on the side, gamble all our money on cockfights or drink San Miguel beer with our buddies every night."
"What are you talking about?"
"That's how lots of Filipino guys are. They don't value their women. Maybe it's because there're so many beautiful women there that they can take them for granted. Anyway, that's another reason so many Filipinas wind up working in the bars. Foreign men are nicer to them than their husbands and boyfriends."
"Look, you do what you want," Steve finally said. "I'm not judging you. I'm not going to stop you. We'll be in separate rooms. You can do whatever you want in yours, with whoever you want. But not me."
"You'll come drinking with me, won't you?"
"I never said I gave up drinking." Steve wasn't a drunk, but he enjoyed hoisting a few glasses with a friend. And Jeff and he had gotten wasted together off and on over the years. Getting a good buzz on under a starry tropical night sounded like a lot of fun. He'd missed a lot of times like that while married to Betty.
That's when Jeff just grinned that infuriating smile as though he knew secrets Steve didn't, and said, "I'll bet you that you get laid before the week is over."
"How much?" Steve asked.
"Let's make it worth while -- one thousand."
"Come on, if you're so sure I'm going to fall for the first floozy I meet, make it real money. Five thousand."
"Pesos or dollars."
"U.S. dollars. Not worth much these days, but you're going to lose five thousand of them at the end of the trip."
Jeff put his hand out. "Bet."
Chapter Five
Steve remained even more confident in his position. Nothing that followed the landing held any promise for him.
The long wait to show his passport to a gruff, crew cut man in uniform. The long wait for his checked bags. Having them waived through customs when he said he had nothing to declare.
On Jeff's advice, he changed most of his American money at a small window under the logo of a local bank.
"This isn't the best rate available," Jeff told him. "But it's not a rip off like in American airports -- Jeff hadn't let him buy Philippines pesos while they were still in Detroit -- and we won't have time tomorrow morning to go to one of the many money changers around the hotel."
Once they stepped outside the airport, Steve felt like he'd suddenly been drenched in hot pea soup. The airport had been warm, but the air outside was fully hot and humid.
The area swarmed with taxis, porters and people with bags leaving the airport.
The trip to the Centerpoint Hotel didn't take very long. Steve thought the traffic was heavy for so late at night, but Jeff assured him that during the day it was bumper to bumper.
The street lighting was poor. Under the hazy yellow street lamps, ragged dirty people hung around or sat behind tiny carts. Little children were still outside chasing each other around.
Half the people seemed to be performing some work or business. The other half didn't seem to have anything else better to do than just sit around on some broken stool or dirty bench.
So far, Steve thought, I'm not impressed.
On the bus ride to the Batangas Port where they caught a small boat to Puerto Gallera, Steve's first impressions were reinforced.
They passed many streets full of small shops with dirty, sun-faded signs. Everybody seemed to be busy buying and selling small item from pieces of gum and candy to computer instruction.
The only encouraging thing that Steve noticed was the large number of children walking to school together. They were all scrubbed clean. And all wore some type of uniform, usually a white shirt with blue pants or skirt.
The transport boat turned out to be a lot bigger than the little outboard motor boat that Steve had envisioned. It had room for over fifty people and their luggage, and sped across the sea, bucking the waves.
The trip took longer than he'd expected, at least an hour. Then Jeff lead him to the cabin he'd reserved. Although Steve had wanted totally separate accommodations so that he would not meet Jeff's night time company, he'd settled for sharing a cabin with two bedrooms that each had their own TVs and bathrooms. They shared cooking facilities, a table and a sitting area.
Although tired, Steve was eager to join Jeff. They took towels out to the beach. They took a quick swim in the cool water.
Steve was happy just to lie face down on his towel and feel the ocean breeze on his wet skin.
In minutes he fell sound asleep.
Chapter Six
By the time he finished his dinner of beefsteak and onions, with rice of course, and a fruit salad of sliced oranges and bananas, Steve had to admit he was feeling good.
He drained the glass of "buko" -- green coconut juice -- that Jeff insisted he try.
They sat together at a small table. The tropical night time sky was clear, and as full of stars as advertised. The ocean breeze was gently warming on his face. The restaurant was strung with garlands of various plants and fronds from palm trees, adding to the atmosphere. The music coming out of the speaker system sounded Hawaiian to his ignorant ears.
Steve had to admit, it was a very romantic location. Too bad he didn't have a beautiful lady to share the feeling with -- only Jeff.
Still, he had to admit, he was glad to come and experience this. He realized with sudden sadness that he and Betty had given up new and exciting experiences early in their marriage. They'd settled on a dull, boring routine of work and recreation at the same old places.
He hated to think it, but he owed Jeff something for insisting he get out of his old rut and come to this place, where Jimmy Buffett would feel right at home.
"Let's get started," Jeff said after they paid their bill.
"I'll probably turn in early tonight," Steve said.
"You can't go back on your promise, or the bet's off," Jeff reminded him. "You can't hide in your room the whole time. That's no fun."
"It's only the first night. Give me time to warm up."
Chapter Seven
They returned to the beach, which was now full of makeshift, outdoor bars. Apparently they shut down during the day while people were swimming, then were set up in the evening.
They mainly consisted of a counter, bar chairs and small tables, lined with bright lights.
Somewhere in the distance, a pop song blared into the air.
Steve and Jeff plopped down on two of the bar stools. Steve's mouth fell open when the bartender asked them what they wanted.
It was garish, transvestite with obviously plastic boobs under their tight-fitting t-shirt. He/she wore orange pants.