Chapter 18

I was restless and had a bit of difficulty falling asleep. My mind wandered back to the late 1980s when business often took me to Manila. I had fond memories of the Ermita district, when it was alive and well, before Mayor Lim destroyed it.

--Flashback to 1989--

My business trip took me to Manila, capital city of the Philippines and one of my favorite cities in the world. Manila is an overcrowded, polluted city formed by combining 17 cities into what is now called Metro Manila. The original city names were retained to represent what might be called districts. For example: Ermita is known as the main nightlife district, Makati is recognized as the business district, a person from Tondo is assumed as a gangster, and so on.

As someone who has struggled with the Korean or Japanese ladies who speak little or no English -- both overseas and in the U.S. -- the Philippines was a wonderful delight as nearly everyone speaks English. English is taught in the schools and even in the countryside it is well spoken.

I was mixing business with pleasure, so I stayed at the Hyatt Regency on Roxas Boulevard. The Hyatt is right on Manila Bay and is one of the tourist/business hotels that are bunched along about a five-mile strip.

I had flown Northwest Orient via Seattle and Tokyo and as a result, my plane arrived at about 10:30 p.m. I managed to clear customs and get to the hotel by about midnight. I took a quick shower and by 1 a.m. I was ready to taste the delights of Manila.

I had the doorman get me a cab and negotiate a fare to the Ermita district. The driver settled for the equivalent of about $2.50 U.S. and we were on our way to my favorite club in Manila, the Fire House Disco. The Fire House was rated among the best 100 bars in the world -- a rating that the club fully deserves. [Note: a new Fire House Disco has been built about 4 miles from the old location -- the layout is identical only it is about 50% larger.]

The Ermita district of Manila is somewhat like an adult amusement park. Even at 1:30 in the morning, the place is rocking (most clubs stay open until 4:00 or 5:00 in the morning, and many of the smaller clubs will stay open nonstop as long as there are customers willing to spend money.

I paid the cab driver and before ducking into the Fire House I wandered down the street in search of a money changer who would give me a better rate than I found at the hotel. I soon found one that was offering a slightly better rate than the "official" exchange rate. I then negotiated for a still better rate and changed some of my "green" for some of the multicolored "pesos" of the Philippines. (While I spent pesos for the remainder of my trip, I'll do the math and quote relevant prices in U.S. dollars.)

Walking up and down the main drag in Ermita, I was assailed every few feet by a pitchman or pitchwoman trying to get me into one of the dozens of clubs that line both sides of the street. I was also offered "genuine Rolex watches" for about $20, "bold shows" (shows with more nudity than the law allows) and other assorted pleasures. However, I passed these up in favor of my original destination.

Those of you who have "walked the walk" through the Times Square district, before it became so run down, would probably note that a good comparison can be made between Ermita and the Times Square of old. It used to be that in either place you could buy anything you wanted, all it took was cash. While that is not quite so true today, one fact remains: the wise visitor doesn't walk around either location loaded with jewelry, flashing money or an expensive camera. Crime is no worse -- or no better -- here than in any other major city around the world, so readers should take appropriate care.

As soon as I entered the Fire House I was instantly blasted by high intensity rock music and colored lighting. Standing by the door for a few minutes while my eyes got used to the light I was able to determine that the layout was still the same. Basically, the Fire House is a long rectangle, dominated by a huge bar that runs almost the length of the club. Behind the bar are about 20 bikinied Filipinas slowly dancing to the beat of rock videos being played on TV monitors mounted throughout the club. Seating is available at the main bar, around a smaller bar in the back, with the more comfortable sofa-like seating along the back walls.

I grabbed a barstool at the main bar, ordered a San Miguel (the great domestic stuff, not the watered-down horse piss you find in the supermarkets in the U.S., nor the sewer-water sold in Hong Kong under license) from a lady bartender wearing a T-shirt that said, "If God makes anything better than San Miguel Beer and Filipino women -- He's keeping it for himself." My beer cost about $1.25.

The girls at Fire House work in two groups. At any given moment, half the women there are on stage dancing (also playing a lot of grab-ass) in their very tiny bikinis. The other half are mingling with the customers. What a sight! There are short ones, tall ones, skinny ones and not-so-skinny ones. Big tits, little tits, big asses, tiny asses -- if you died on the spot, you would know that you didn't have to travel to get to heaven. Only one category of girl was not represented on stage -- there were no ugly ones.

I have to tell you, this place is incredible. The lights, the dancers, the rock videos, it is really a fantastic place -- yet not all that different from any of the other large clubs in Ermita.

After a while, I noticed that Emily, a friend from some previous visits, was up on stage. I flagged down the bartender and told her to get Emily's attention -- which she did. Emily waved, gave me a million dollar smile, and indicated that she would join me when her dance shift was over. I pointed to some open seating at the back to let her know I was leaving the bar and would be waiting for her where the seating was more comfortable.

I let the bartender know where I was going so that my bar tab would follow, headed for the back, found a comfortable seat and settled in.

One of the things that I like about the Fire House is that the girls there are not allowed to be too aggressive. If you don't make eye contact with one of the hostesses, then you don't have to chase them off like you do in clubs in the U.S. You also don't get the feeling that all they want is your money.

I noticed that Emily had stepped off of the stage, and was headed to the dressing room to freshen up. Thirty minutes on stage is tiring, and I knew Emily would want to smell sweet for me.

I leaned back and closed my eyes to enjoy the beat of the music, and the next thing I knew someone was rubbing the inside of my leg. I opened my eyes to see Emily and I smiled. She gave me a big hug and a very hot kiss, called me by my name and then asked how I had been. It had been about three months since I had seen Emily, but she made me feel like I was the only man in the world and that she had been waiting for me to come in.

I bought Emily a drink (for the same price as mine) and we sat there talking for about 20 minutes. Emily looked great. She is average height for most Filipinos, about 5'1" with a nice figure (she is almost a "C" cup) and a great tight ass. We spent about 20 minutes nursing our drinks and making small talk. The whole time Emily kept her tiny hands rubbing the inside of my thigh. Despite the fact that I had been in an airplane for nearly 20 hours, I had a nice hard-on which Emily occasionally "brushed" with her fingertips. Just before Emily did one more dance set, I asked if she wanted to go back to the Hyatt with me, and was rewarded with a super warm smile. I told her to go up on stage and I would deal with Mama-san.

While Emily went up on stage, I waved to Mama-san and called her over. She was easy to identify because she was the only middle-aged woman there. I told her that Emily and I would be leaving soon, and paid the "bar fine" of about $15.00. I called the waitress over and paid my bar tab and Mama-san signaled Emily to let her know that the bar fine had been paid and she could leave the stage, and leave with me. Emily slipped off the stage, I gave Mama-san a small tip, and I went outside to wait for Emily.

I stood outside drinking in the sights, sounds and smells of Ermita early in the pre-dawn hours. Almost all of the shops were still open, the streets were mobbed and the open-air restaurants were packed. In about 10 minutes, Emily came out of the club and gently touched my arm. She was wearing a nice conservative dress, and looked like a businesswoman on her way to work in an office. We flagged down a cab, negotiated a fare, and headed back to the Hyatt.

Sometimes the security people at the major hotels will stop you when you come in with a young woman after 10 p.m., but I've been to the Hyatt often enough that I know the night hotel security people by name, so when they recognized me they just waved us on in.

We went up to my room, and Emily headed for the bathroom to take a shower while I ordered some room service dinner.

In the Philippines there is a strange ritual involving bar girls, mama-sans, and dinner. If you bring a young lady to your room, you are expected to order her a fried chicken dinner from room service. The young lady will usually only eat one piece of chicken, and will bring the rest home with her when she leaves. The extra will usually go to help feed her family, and some will almost always be a gift to the Mama-san where she works.

I ordered Emily's chicken dinner and a meal for myself and waited for Emily to come out of the bathroom. Emily has been with me to the Hyatt before, and knows her way around the room. So, right after room service delivered dinner, it was no surprise to me when she came out of the bathroom wearing one of the huge terry cloth robes that the hotel provides. She looked absolutely incredible, her long black hair contrasted so well with the white terry cloth robe. I could hardly keep my hands off of her while we ate. We ate quickly, knowing that the real meal was going to begin soon, and I headed off to the shower to rinse quickly off the smoke from the club, and to refresh myself.

I had no sooner stepped into the shower and stuck my head under the water when I felt a small hand start rubbing my cock. Emily had joined me, and had a bar of soap and was beginning to wash down my best parts. She would lather my cock, rinse it off and smother it with kisses, the whole time tickling my balls. This was wet foreplay at its very best. Bar of soap in hand, I completely lathered Emily, paying particular attention to her lovely, firm breasts. Emily's nipples got nice and firm in response to the attention they were being given, and I quickly rinsed the soap off of them and went to work on them with my tongue and mouth.