Chapter 3

Back at the hotel we shower and as full as we are, sex is a slow and sweet matter of licking and sucking and kissing for a couple of hours before we even get around to a legitimate fucking. Ganda's body is firm and if not as flexible as Drama's, it is plenty enough for me. Each time I am face to face with that hairless, shaved pussy of this Filipina, the more I feel like I am having sex with a girl far younger. From the small breasts and narrow hips to the small stature to the naked lips greeting me from between slim thighs, she is a woman in a girl's body.

As my cock slides into her pussy, I know that Ganda is mine for as long as I want her. She is not loud. She is not flippant. She doesn't demand. She doesn't ask for anything. If I offer she will accept, but never asks. She is in some ways simply childlike. For breakfast at the hotel she is ordering chocolate shakes. God bless her.

She knows that I am the real deal and she is not going to blow it. Her orgasms are real and strong. But I also know there is a side to her that is not presented directly to me but not hidden either.

I more than sensed that she could be a real character with whom to contend. Whenever we take a taxi, there is a voice and a tone that comes out to the driver that is neither meek nor is it lady-like. It is Donald Trump talking to the elevator operator on a bad day. And the drivers, once she says her piece, never fuck around taking us all over town. We get to where they are taking us without roundabout routes.

In bed, though, Ganda follows, she does not lead and she is fully compliant. Not a word of complaint as I take her in the ass right down to the root. Her body belongs to me. There is never a 'no.'

That night after two hours of comforting each other we fall asleep.

We are awakened at 5am by a pounding on our door by Drama who is hollering as well. Ganda and I stay silent and after five minutes the pounding and yelling stops. I am told later that she was escorted out of the hotel and into a taxi to the airport.

Ganda takes it all in stride. She has the guy, and Drama doesn't. Since I had been honest with Ganda the previous day about Drama, neither Drama's appearance nor her behavior are a surprise and no explanation is required.

I have two items of business that need to be taken care of quickly as my trip is ending in three days. I want Ganda out of the bed-spacer and I need a place to stay when I return to be with Ganda on a second longer trip. And there is a difficulty in marrying Ganda as she had been married at age 18 and though she has been separated for six years, her annulment is not completed. Ganda had filed for the annulment and there is an attorney I want to meet. However, first is the issue of securing an apartment. Ganda says she will work on that and by seven in the morning she leaves to go back to the Cubao section of Quezon City in search of an apartment to lease.

Ganda's call center is in a high-rise on P. Tuazon Street in Cubao. That's where she is looking to find a rental. By mid-afternoon she thinks she has one located. We will try to close the deal the next day. In the meantime her attorney agrees to meet us at a mall, and not his office. This just doesn't feel right. I ask Ganda about it but I don't think she understands my concern.

I take a taxi to a Mall in Makati where I meet Ganda. We wait for Attorney Cruz to appear. About an hour later this young pudgy guy with two toddlers shows and introduces himself. The pudge is Cruz.

He gives me this song and dance that they have done everything and are waiting for word from the court before anything else can be done. All the hearings were completed 60 days earlier. Nothing he says rings true but I don't know enough about the annulment process and the courts to say much.

When we are done with attorney Pudge, Ganda and I wander over to the food court of the mall. I ask Ganda to pick out three girls. If I can pick up one, Ganda must agree to have sex with that girl and me tonight. Ganda is a little weirded out by the request.

She selects only one.

OK I will try and if she says no, then you will pick another.

She agrees. I suggest Ganda go into one of the shops close to the food court for five minutes and she gathers herself up and does as I have asked.

The first woman Ganda selects sits down with a guy. I text her, she comes back and eventually selects another girl. Once again Ganda leaves. I approach the woman. She is nice but it comes out that she has a boyfriend. Strike two.

I text Ganda yet again, she comes back and selects a third and she says: Last girl.

We will see. I don't agree to that but no sense in arguing at the moment.

I watch what the selected woman, who is maybe in her early 30's, is doing and finally where she sits once she has purchased her food. I sit down on the other end of the same table – it can seat maybe six and there are just the two of us.

She has her hair shoulder length and it shows the effects of a trip to the beauty parlor. Lazy open curls fall down her neck. Her skin is light. She is wearing a short orange dress and pumps with three-inch heels. I see no sign of a wedding ring. She is thin, five foot two and very attractive.

I say hello and she returns the greeting.

Krissell, those are good questions. I want two women not just one. It is the way I am. And I want them in bed with me at the same time. So it needs to be with my wife.

I text Ganda and ask her to join us. Two minutes later Ganda walks up and Krissell immediately starts chatting in Tagalog with Ganda. Ganda is answering. This is a long and involved discussion and I have no idea what is being said, but at some point the discussion seems to be completed and the two are smiling and laughing.

Krissell has not even touched her food and Ganda is motioning for both of us to get going. I tell Krissell to leave it, I will pay for a nice meal back at the hotel.

In the taxi Ganda tells me that Krissell is working for a lower wage than Ganda is getting. The call center will hire Krissell if she goes to work with Ganda at her next shift. The two of them can share the apartment and so my costs will not go up, in fact they might be lower. As I learn the economics of it all, I find that Ganda earns ten thousand peso a month. She sends a quarter of that to her mom and sister for the care of Ganda's daughter. Krissell's story is similar. At the exchange rate I experience during that trip, Ganda's monthly salary in US dollars was approximately $215.00. And since she was sending $54 of that back to Mindanao, it left her with $161 a month to live on. The bed spacer was costing her one thousand five hundred pesos or $33 a month. The rest went for food, toiletries and sundries. It was a meager existence.

We go back to the hotel in Manila from Makati. The staff at the front desk and the bellman just smile broadly as I escort both women up to my room. Ganda insists they need the bathroom which she calls the CR (for comfort room). She says they need to freshen up before we go to dine. Once up in the room the girls disappear into the CR and while I hear talking and laughing I don't see them for twenty minutes. When they do come out, each one gives me a peck on the cheek and Ganda announces they are ready.