Trip Days 9 and 10, Angeles City Days 1 and 2
Now that I'm a bit under a week removed from returning to the Philippines, I think I can look back on it and say that I can't really see myself going again. It's not that it doesn't deliver--there are lots of girls at a range of prices catering to all manner of monger--but that what it delivers never quite lived up to the hype. I feel that over my RTFFing, the image of AC that I formed is either one that no longer exists, or never existed at all. I suppose that if you set your bar for lights and glamour in Southeast Asia at Pattaya, then spend enough time away from Patts to see it in a nostalgic light (in my case a bit over half a decade), it's hard to be satisfied with Walking St. And Perimeter Rd. Anyway, I digress; I'm going to try to make this brief, but no promises.
Day 1 - The Club formerly known as.
Say what you want about its founder Travis Kalanick, but Uber's rapid expanse across the globe is all good with me. Even though UberX would make the trip for roughly 700 pesos, Uber Black assured enough space to stretch out and nap through the traffic jam point-to-point for around 1750. I went with the latter option, and a guy in a late model Rav4 pulled up in front of the Birch Towers in Ermita to drop me off at Angeles Beach Club.
The nice thing about Uber is that you can recall exactly how much you paid and how long your ride was later through the receipt; it took 3 hours and 47 minutes to go from Ermita to ABC, with a short 7-10 minute stop to get gas. If that's a trip you find yourself making and you're not yet on the Uber train, you might as well give it a go; my driver lived abroad for a while in San Francisco, so we had a pleasant talk (in near-pristine English) about the housing bubble, the Warriors, etc. 1747 php and a 500 peso tip for bringing the guy out that far, though he insisted that he really didn't mind.
I arrive at the Angeles Beach Club, and I find it to my liking. After seeing the Lewis Grand Hotel, I can understand how one could either like both or be polarized totally towards one; if I were to equate it to American counterparts, I'd say it's like the 5-star hotel crowd that stays at The Cosmopolitan versus the 5-star clientele of The Four Seasons LV. I saw a good price for the Prime Minister suite (biggest single-bedroom setup in the new tower) and jumped on it, which turned out to be a great move; I was woefully unprepared for how crazy fucking boring Angeles would be during the day, so I feel as if lesser accommodation might've put me in a funk. After taking a short nap and sending out my accumulated laundry out to wash, foolishly thinking it'd be the same reasonable prices and timing as Vietnam, I went to the liquor store (after unsuccessfully searching around SM Clark, I found both the Cliquot and whiskey selection I was looking for at a liquor store a block or two down from ABC called 'Cheers' picked up some shootable whiskey (I settled with Johnnie Gold) and some bubbly for the chiller, then got prepped to hit Walking Street.
Pharaoh is now Ra The Sun God, as I was told by my driver on the way to Walking Street. I didn't realize it was as close as it was, but nonetheless made great use of the ABC's pick-up and drop-off service while I was in AC. Some attractive girls in what looked like (Formula racing) umbrella girl outfits led me in, and I made my way up to the third floor. The bass was crazy loud, and I was somewhat dismayed to see that many Pinays don't even pretend that they're going to try to dance. I looked up at what was more or less a glassless fishbowl in Ra, and looked over the girls while conversing with a fellow American I'd met outside. As he gave me the scoop about how he'd been there for a month or so and had started being able to pick out the ones that could take dick, I see a leggy dancer on the flanks of the stage that looks like about the height to waist ratio that won't end in "ow ow ow ow ow" in my ear. I have the Mamasan sitting by me point her out, and the face when she points me out looks like she was being directed to fuck Frankenstein's ghost. Now I'm a pretty dark-skinned guy, and I'm used to weird reactions in Asia, but this is the first time I feel like someone's looked at me in outright revulsion. I drop the issue when the Mamasan insists its because Black guys have big dicks and can leave them a bit roughed up, but a bit of me still wondered that every time it happened to me in SE Asia (it happened more than once). After some more deciding, I pick what looks to be a leggy chick with a great rack; of course when she gets down to ground level she's tiny, and is definitely 2 cups smaller than I expected, but still pretty cute, so a pass on the condition she has a friend who can take it well too. She picks out a younger, somewhat thick-looking companion who had just been next to her on stage.
After introductions (the short one is Donna, her friend is Riga) and drinks, I make sure the girls are both down for BBBJ and a minimum of one pop per girl and multiple pops on request. They agree to stay until around 9 or 10 and I pay the barfine, having the AC van pick us up at the McD's side of the building. We get to the hotel, I pop some champagne, and Donna asks if I mind if she orders up some room service, provided she pays for it. Of course I consent, and she makes sure to tip the room service guy properly. We all shower up, get in the jacuzzi and fuck around a little, then rinse off and hang out in bathrobes in front of the TV while I play with the girl on either side of me's pussy and they take turns rubbing my cock. We talk a little during the lighter touches of the ordeal; Riga's 21 and says she wants to do a year of this to have enough money put aside to finish school in a neighboring province, and Donna is 24 or 25 (I forget), and doesn't divulge much about her story. Riga makes the first move to blow me, and after 10 or 20 minutes of watching her go at it while feeling up her tits and Donna's tight little pussy, take her over to the bed. We go at it a lot harder than I expected; the plan was to save some strength to convert into a bonus round with Donna, but Riga is quite enthusiastic about her job. We switch between mish, doggy, wheelbarrow, and a few other positions, and I eventually finish with her riding cowgirl. I'm perfectly beat, take another shower, convince myself that I'm just going to take a rest for a bit, and fall asleep in between both girls, curled up in the well-thought-out-sized bed. I think my main disappointment in Phils is that Latin America has spoiled me for choice of body type, and that I was never able to find the perfect set of tits on a AC bar girl that I could on some of the American-born Pinays in my home state.
Day 2 - That International Date Line Will Get You Every Time.
I wake up briefly to fondle Donna, then flutter back asleep for a bit more. I awaken the second time to both of the girls on the couch in their bathrobes, internetting. I play some light indie from my iTunes through the built-in surround system's AUX jack, order up an orange juice, and get my bearings a bit. After I've come to and showered off, I remind Donna that we've yet to fuck. Perhaps thinking I might've somehow forgot, I almost think I can see a hint of dejection in her eyes as she wiggles her little ass to the shower. I spend the spare time sitting on the couch with Riga, fondling her up and down, so by the time Donna comes out of the shower, I'm ready. As I surmised, I end up having to slow pace and limit how much I put in her smaller-than-I-initially-projected frame, until she was making enough audible ow-ing to make me offer her the option of finishing me off in her mouth. She quickly accepted, and though she spent about half a second remarking on the leftover taste of the condom on my dick, she got over it and delivered an A-1 BJ once more, presumably carrying my kids to the toilet in her mouth for an emergency drop off. Not long after, the girls bounce, and I have breakfast.
And herein lies the problem; after thirty minutes or so of wandering around the area, I was already pretty much done with Angeles City. I went to a couple of great restaurants while there (Spanglish was great, and Phillie's brought both great wings, the UFC Rousey ass beating, and Sabrett franks--that said, most "good food" in the area was only somewhat above the nicest airport I visited on my trip (which in AC's defense was Seoul-Incheon). I pretty much did nothing, went to lunch, walked around another 30 minutes later, found nothing, went back to my room, napped until midnight or so. Yawn.
I didn't actually get out to Walking Street until around 1 or 2; a lot of the bars had closed, so I decided I'd give Atlantis a try. I went in, and though I found a girl I wanted to take, but it wasn't until 2:45 or so that she appeared to me, and at that point I was mostly only interested in going to bed, as this was yet another spinner who looked curvier from a distance. On the way to the McDo to meet the ABC driver, I got locked into eye contact with a perfectly bronze pair of ass cheeks peeking out of some short shorts (likely courtesy of the high ass heels she was wearing). Coming to my senses shortly after, I accelerated up to her to see if I couldn't get her number. She of course slid up to me despite the friend that was with her, and insisted we hold hands or that I hold her by the waist. She introduced herself as Reshelle, and Reshelle looked like she was packing some full Cs on a petite frame; it was easy to tell, because at her height I could see straight down the blouse that gave enough space to judge how big her tits actually were, thanks to carrying her phone in her bra, something that I saw an awful lot in a country I thought had more petty crime than that. Some talking evolved into her grinding hard against me in the street and damn near making me take her with me to feed to my mattress. Alas for future me, I promised I would meet up with her before her shift the next evening (she claimed to be a door girl at Heels Club or Legs Club or what the fuck ever) for some swimming in the ABC pool and some dick in the suite. I went back to the room, looked at some stuff for work, and promptly stayed up until 6 am, knocking out until well past when I was supposed to call her. Not a lot happens on Day 3 until that evening, and I'm getting a bit groggy, so I guess I'll leave it here for now.
