House of the Rising Son and Daddy
It all started just three hours ago.
When I boarded the passenger FX on the way to Cavite, I noticed he was looking at me in that strange, suspicious, exciting way that belies interest and caution. It led to much silly smiling, me and him, at each other. He tried to touch my knee, I tried to touch his. I liked the way his black T-shirt hugged his chest and arms even if it wasn't one of those shirts that were designed to. But he wasn't a big man; he just had a nice-fitting shirt that matched his nice shape.
I was prepared to hop off the van anywhere this guy was going. At my regular stop, he mouthed we should go down. Turns out he knows my usual stop because he's ridden with me before and he remembers. He said I was with another guy that time, and that must've been Kung Fu Guy.
His name is Vher. Same age as mine. Shorter than me. A bartender in a bar somewhere in Quezon City. He used to be a bartender in a restaurant in Makati. Nice guy all over. We walked and looked for a stop where we could assault each other.
We stopped at a Burger Machine for refreshments. I asked him questions.
Then, under the shadows beside a dirt road, we fooled around. We stopped when a figure from afar began to approach.
That was the moment he decided to take me to his home.
A few kilometers from my house. Deeper into the heart of Cavite. He said he lived with his uncle, but it sounded like a lie.
The streets that led to the house were dark and pestered with roaming, barking dogs. The front of the house looked like a large cage with its top-to-bottom gate and the huge dog that growled from the inside.
The inside of the house was cozy. He told me to stay quiet and pointed me to the elongated sofa against the wall. It looked more like a sleeping bench with its comfy cushion and homey throw pillows. I stayed there while he went to the rooms hidden from my view. I heard voices. His "uncle" was awake. I studied the appearance of the dimly lit living room. A Japanese wall ornament. Exotic-looking table pieces. Two fine rugs. Snazzy TV set and players. This certainly wasn't a family house. And I thought I wouldn't be surprised if perhaps under brighter illumination, it could appear to be a gay home.
Vher's careful steps told me I should act like I wasn't there at all. He was doing something inside his room, but I can't tell. Suddenly, the uncle appeared from behind the wall. He was silhoutted against the light from the kitchen, and I knew he could see me well. "Good evening po," I said. But it was actually early morning. He nodded and went back to whence he came.
Vher returned in only his boxer shorts this time. He sat beside me and said, "Alam mo na, no?" I said yes. It's clear. They were lovers. Vher was 24, Floyd was 44. They've lived together for five years. Floyd lived in the house longer.
Vher started to touch me, then pointed to the TV and asked, "Gusto mong manood?" He put in straight porn that looked like something that could be entitled "Indiana Jones and the Lust Crusade." It seemed like high-quality xxx.
Then Vher whispered, "Huwag kang susubo para hindi ma-turn off." He didn't have to tell me twice. Floyd, apparently, likes his boys as straight as possible.
Vher unbuttoned my polo shirt, then my jeans, then started to suck me. Floyd suddenly appeared from behind the wall again and sat on a chair next to the sofa. He watched me as Vher did his thing, and I think Floyd was even touching himself.
Floyd was a reasonably handsome man with eyeglasses, mustache, and balding head. He had also somewhat of a respectable demeanor, even if he was just in boxers and T-shirt.
But I couldn't look at him long, nor could I look at Vher. I kept my eyes on the screen, where two blondes were being fucked on a yacht.
Then the expected happened. Floyd joined in on the action. He and Vher took turns sucking my cock and licking my body all over. At one point I think they were licking my cock at the same time. They did it slowly. They laid me down. I was completely naked except for my open polo shirt. I closed my eyes, I looked at the TV. Floyd kissed me hungrily. His tongue was invading and it was huge, a gigantic lapping life form. I didn't respond. I was so into the act of the straight boy being seduced by the gay couple.
It took long for me to cum. Vher later said it's because people used to being pleasured take longer than newbies. I agree.
When it was over, they asked me to stay the night. Floyd asked questions, and I gave my usual made-up answers. I was looking at Vher to see how he would react to my lies. I kept answering in polite po's and opo's, and Floyd told me to just call him Floyd.
But I said I had to go. Floyd retired to his bed, while Vher and I exchanged numbers in hushed breaths. He walked with me outside. Vher wanted me to stay so that we could have sex, just the two of us, when Floyd leaves in the morning. I said we'll do it some other day. We planned on it. I want to see him again, if only to press him for answers that he was vague about. Like, how did they meet? The guy seems very interesting, and I think he's friend material.
He said they never have sex anymore, only on occassions like tonight when they have somebody over. And even then, I don't think they touch each other. "Ibang level na," he said. "Nag-mature." Vher said it's usually Floyd who brings home the boys.
Question to self: Strange as this experience was, why do I find it so completely unshocking?
When I boarded the passenger FX on the way to Cavite, I noticed he was looking at me in that strange, suspicious, exciting way that belies interest and caution. It led to much silly smiling, me and him, at each other. He tried to touch my knee, I tried to touch his. I liked the way his black T-shirt hugged his chest and arms even if it wasn't one of those shirts that were designed to. But he wasn't a big man; he just had a nice-fitting shirt that matched his nice shape.
I was prepared to hop off the van anywhere this guy was going. At my regular stop, he mouthed we should go down. Turns out he knows my usual stop because he's ridden with me before and he remembers. He said I was with another guy that time, and that must've been Kung Fu Guy.
His name is Vher. Same age as mine. Shorter than me. A bartender in a bar somewhere in Quezon City. He used to be a bartender in a restaurant in Makati. Nice guy all over. We walked and looked for a stop where we could assault each other.
We stopped at a Burger Machine for refreshments. I asked him questions.
Then, under the shadows beside a dirt road, we fooled around. We stopped when a figure from afar began to approach.
That was the moment he decided to take me to his home.
A few kilometers from my house. Deeper into the heart of Cavite. He said he lived with his uncle, but it sounded like a lie.
The streets that led to the house were dark and pestered with roaming, barking dogs. The front of the house looked like a large cage with its top-to-bottom gate and the huge dog that growled from the inside.
The inside of the house was cozy. He told me to stay quiet and pointed me to the elongated sofa against the wall. It looked more like a sleeping bench with its comfy cushion and homey throw pillows. I stayed there while he went to the rooms hidden from my view. I heard voices. His "uncle" was awake. I studied the appearance of the dimly lit living room. A Japanese wall ornament. Exotic-looking table pieces. Two fine rugs. Snazzy TV set and players. This certainly wasn't a family house. And I thought I wouldn't be surprised if perhaps under brighter illumination, it could appear to be a gay home.
Vher's careful steps told me I should act like I wasn't there at all. He was doing something inside his room, but I can't tell. Suddenly, the uncle appeared from behind the wall. He was silhoutted against the light from the kitchen, and I knew he could see me well. "Good evening po," I said. But it was actually early morning. He nodded and went back to whence he came.
Vher returned in only his boxer shorts this time. He sat beside me and said, "Alam mo na, no?" I said yes. It's clear. They were lovers. Vher was 24, Floyd was 44. They've lived together for five years. Floyd lived in the house longer.
Vher started to touch me, then pointed to the TV and asked, "Gusto mong manood?" He put in straight porn that looked like something that could be entitled "Indiana Jones and the Lust Crusade." It seemed like high-quality xxx.
Then Vher whispered, "Huwag kang susubo para hindi ma-turn off." He didn't have to tell me twice. Floyd, apparently, likes his boys as straight as possible.
Vher unbuttoned my polo shirt, then my jeans, then started to suck me. Floyd suddenly appeared from behind the wall again and sat on a chair next to the sofa. He watched me as Vher did his thing, and I think Floyd was even touching himself.
Floyd was a reasonably handsome man with eyeglasses, mustache, and balding head. He had also somewhat of a respectable demeanor, even if he was just in boxers and T-shirt.
But I couldn't look at him long, nor could I look at Vher. I kept my eyes on the screen, where two blondes were being fucked on a yacht.
Then the expected happened. Floyd joined in on the action. He and Vher took turns sucking my cock and licking my body all over. At one point I think they were licking my cock at the same time. They did it slowly. They laid me down. I was completely naked except for my open polo shirt. I closed my eyes, I looked at the TV. Floyd kissed me hungrily. His tongue was invading and it was huge, a gigantic lapping life form. I didn't respond. I was so into the act of the straight boy being seduced by the gay couple.
It took long for me to cum. Vher later said it's because people used to being pleasured take longer than newbies. I agree.
When it was over, they asked me to stay the night. Floyd asked questions, and I gave my usual made-up answers. I was looking at Vher to see how he would react to my lies. I kept answering in polite po's and opo's, and Floyd told me to just call him Floyd.
But I said I had to go. Floyd retired to his bed, while Vher and I exchanged numbers in hushed breaths. He walked with me outside. Vher wanted me to stay so that we could have sex, just the two of us, when Floyd leaves in the morning. I said we'll do it some other day. We planned on it. I want to see him again, if only to press him for answers that he was vague about. Like, how did they meet? The guy seems very interesting, and I think he's friend material.
He said they never have sex anymore, only on occassions like tonight when they have somebody over. And even then, I don't think they touch each other. "Ibang level na," he said. "Nag-mature." Vher said it's usually Floyd who brings home the boys.
Question to self: Strange as this experience was, why do I find it so completely unshocking?