SOUL MATE (M/F, rainwear, consensual, no sex)

Stories and fantasies about rainwear.
mason
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Joined: February 2nd, 2010, 3:34 am

SOUL MATE (M/F, rainwear, consensual, no sex)

Post by mason »

I've attempted to make this story as realistic as possible. Although my characters are wholly fictional, the locations are all real. I've visited many of them as well. As always, comments and feedback are warmly welcome.

SOUL MATE

All my friends say that you’ll find love when you least expect it. I’ve never believed any of them. Apart from the fact that I’m not lucky in love, the probability of meeting someone by chance is so small that you could measure it around one percent of one percent. Perhaps not even that.

It doesn’t help that I’m not exactly God’s gift to women. I’m not good looking (although my mother would disagree with me there), I’m not talented in any endeavour nor am I super rich. Perhaps worst of all, I’ve never been confident around the opposite sex. Don’t ask me why, but it’s the way I am. However, I am warm, kind, caring, understanding loyal. In short, I’m old school. My parents raised me to be polite and respectful towards other people. Would you believe that I’ve got more “best friends” (of both sexes) than I can count? I’m everybody’s confidante. It’s just a pity that none of it translates well into love? Seriously, it hurts watching my friends grow up with their childhood sweethearts from school, while I’m still single and loveless at the somewhat ripe old age of thirty.

I’ll be honest and admit that it’s partly my fault. Although I’m outwardly as normal as one can get, I do enjoy various less than wholesome interests which I’d rather not talk about right now. Nobody understands what makes me tick. As much as I long to come out and explain everything, I really don’t want or need the looks of contempt, derision or pity I’m bound to receive as soon as I open my mouth. Therefore, I stay quiet about everything.

There’s nothing particularly interesting about my career, although it pays the bills. I’m a financial analyst for the Australian arm of a Fortune 500 company. Basically, all I do is crunch numbers and produce reports for the powers-that-be. It’s not the kind of occupation they make films about. Did I tell you that I’m a really big James Bond fan? A little fantasy never hurt, right? But I digress.

****************************************************************

The window of my warm corner office was streaming with rain and I sighed before leaning back in my chair. There’s times work holds no appeal for me and this was one of those days. Unlike the tropics, the rain was bitterly cold. I could barely see the more distant buildings of Melbourne’s Central Business district from my cosy eyrie, eighty levels above street level. Scudding cloud and driving rain obscured the normally magnificent view of the City and Port Phillip Bay beyond. Seniority carries its perks and this normally splendid vista was one of them. They’d even allowed me to decorate the place in my own particular style and that was something I really appreciated.

My phone rang and I uttered a curse under my breath before picking it up. The bloody thing only rings when I’m enjoying one of my rare free moments. Oh well. There wasn’t much to see or do anyway. “Hello,” I said. “What can I do for you this fine sunny day?”

Andrew Johns laughed. “I see you haven’t lost your sense of humour,” he chuckled. “I’m glad we’re not out on the water today.”

I smiled. Andrew is so much more than a boss; he’s also a good friend and mentor as well. I’m not embarrassed to say that I wouldn’t have risen where I have without his guidance. He’s one of the few people whose never regarded my deafness as a disability. Rather he sees it as an opportunity for the taking. Although my hearing isn’t the best (obviously), I am a very skilled lipreader and we’ve used it more than once to our advantage in numerous business negotiations. They have no idea that I can ‘hear’ what they’re saying half way across the room. Although I can’t hear very well over a phone, it’s no longer a problem either.

One of our company divisions built the absolutely revolutionary technology to convert speech into text in front of my eyes. I helped provide the concept, along with a lot of input into the project. Basically, it translates the other person’s voice into text that I can read, without any lag whatsoever. One version even projects it as a HUD (heads-up-display). Lovely stuff. We patented everything and our app sold like hotcakes. Apparently, people with even mild hearing issues also found this technology more than useful. When we finally succeeded in refining the translating software for mobile use, our sales took off exponentially from that point onwards. Every media outlet ran the story. You just can’t buy that kind of publicity. Even the likes of Samsung and Apple now install it on their smartphones. Of course, they pay us handsomely for the right to our proprietary software.

“Indeed,” I agreed. I glanced outside as another squall of rain struck the window. We also share similar interests, especially fishing. We bounce a lot of ideas off each other in the boat along the way. That it’s also tax deductible doesn’t hurt either. “Hopefully, it’ll clear soon. Could be a good weekend for snapper,” I mused. They always bite well after a big blow.

“No rest for the wicked this week,” Andrew sighed. “I’ve got a job for you. Can you drop by and see me now please?”

“No worries. I’ll be right up.” I swore softly after hanging up. These trips only ever seem to come up when the fish are on the bite. Knowing Andrew, he would delight in posting photos of the twenty-pound Big Red he caught on Facebook for no other reason than to wind me up.

“Thanks for coming up,” Andrew smiled, upon spotting me. “Coffee?” he asked as we settled into our comfortable chairs.

“Yes, please.”

“I apologise for spoiling your weekend,” he said. “I know how much you wanted to get out there this weekend. So did I. Unfortunately, a problem’s just come up in the Philippines. One of our subsidiaries has been losing money rather consistently. There’s no reason why they should be doing so poorly. Our manufacturing and distribution channels appear to be operating normally.”

“So you think it could be fraud?” I asked. Fraud is not exactly unknown in the corporate world. It’s particularly prevalent in many overseas operations where it’s harder to monitor what’s going on. There are many techniques that employees use to rip off their employers. They range from the crude (smuggling diamonds out in certain unmentionable parts of one’s anatomy. It’s true, the sun does shine out of one’s ass) to the highly sophisticated requiring days, or even weeks of careful financial analysis to crack the scam.

“It certainly looks like it,” Andrew sighed. “I’d like you to visit Manila and find out what’s going down there.

“Sure,” I happily agreed. I didn’t mind going there that much. The Philippines is somewhat rough around the edges, but the people are mostly warm and friendly. They’re also unusually relaxed and laid back, to a fault. Singing, dancing and endless fiestas are all an essential part of the fun-loving Filipino culture. God knows, they haven’t got much else to be happy about. The Philippines is a desperately poor country, thanks to decades of virtually institutionalized political corruption and graft. A small handful of very rich families own almost 95% of the country’s limited wealth whilst the rest is shared between a lazy hundred and seventeen million people. The difference between rich and poor is so vast that it might as well be measured in terms of light years. Unsurprisingly, this oligarchic cabal of families have very little interest in improving the lot of everyone below them. Salaries are so low that millions of Filipinos travel overseas to work so they can send money back home to support their families. It also doesn’t help that the Philippines is also more disaster-prone than most nations with regular typhoons and accompanying massive flooding, earthquakes and volcanic eruptions adding to the chaotic nature of life there. Nevertheless, little appears to squash their indomitable spirit. Family and community ties are stronger than almost anywhere else in the world. And their girls are some of the most beautiful on the planet.

I smiled inwardly. The snapper could wait. I had bigger fish to dream about there. “When do you want me to leave?”

“This Wednesday, if you can make it. I know it’s short notice,” Andrew apologized. “But time is of the essence. They must be aware that sooner or later we’ll be onto them.”

“No worries, I understand.”

“Good man.” Andrew leant back in his chair. “I’ve taken the liberty of booking business class airfares for you and a car will meet you at the airport in Manila before driving you to your hotel. As usual, you’ll be staying at our suite at the Sofitel Philippine Plaza.”

“Thank you,” I replied. “That all sounds good.” Well. It wasn’t all bad news. Lie-flat business class beds and a suite at a sumptuous five-star hotel meant I wouldn’t be roughing it during my stay. The snapper could wait.

However, Andrew wasn’t done with me yet. “Take a couple of weeks off after you’re done, if you like. You need the break. Just put it on the company card.”

“Oh, thank you very much.” I couldn’t conceal my surprise. “That’s very kind of you.”

“You deserve it. Don’t think we haven’t noticed the good work you’ve done for us. Have a great trip and do let me know what you find out there.”

“Will do.”

“Take care and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Andrew smiled.

**************************************************************

Normally, flying is about as enjoyable as a visit to the dentist. The interminable queues, the check-in process and seat allocation, security and more security followed by multi-hour waits before boarding grinds my gears in a way few other human experiences ever achieve.

Not this day.

I’ve never flown up the pointy end of the plane before, although I had some idea what to expect from my previous flights. Being forced to walk through the luxurious Business Class section before entering Cattle Class, better known as ‘Economy’ is never any fun. It’s impossible to miss what you’re going to miss out on for the rest of the flight: the luxurious wide, lie-flat seats, acres of leg space and so much more.

Therefore, my shock was all the greater when the smiling Singapore Airlines girl scrutinized my ticket and passport before entering everything into the computer and handing me my boarding pass. They’d upgraded me. What the…?

“Excuse me, I think you’ve made a mistake,” I said, hardly daring believe I was about to be admitted to the Holy Grail of flying. There’s first class and there’s Singapore Airline’s legendary Suites. Oh my God.

“No mistake,” she beamed. “Call it a small appreciation of our thanks for your regular custom. And I hope, on behalf of all of us at Singapore Airlines, that you have a great flight.”

“Oh, I’m sure I will,” I breathlessly replied. “Thank you very much.”

“It’s a real pleasure.” Another dazzling smile. God, these people are smooth, I thought. They know all the right things to say.

I floated all the way to the boarding gate. It was just like winning Tattslotto.

There’s not much else to say about my flight, except to say I’ve never flown in such luxury before. Because First wasn’t full, they split two suites into one so I could enjoy a double bed for the red-eye flight to Singapore, where I would kill a few hours (Changi International Airport is a destination in its own right. I wanted to see the amazing rooftop Jewel gardens there) before transiting to the Philippines. The impeccable, smiling service, the food, the wines, the ambience, the size of my seat, the acres of room I had all to myself were all out of this world. And that plush, soft bed with real linen and plump pillows. The downside? Yes, there is always one. I had no idea how I was ever going to return to Economy after this.

*************************************************************

As always, the spectacular sight of Manila, the disorganized and chaotic capital of the Philippines, slipping past the plane window never failed to lift my spirits. Manila is one of those strangely quixotic cities which people love or hate. There’s something about this sprawling agglomeration of heaving humanity which I adore for some reason. It’s hard to explain why. It’s probably the least aesthetic metropolis in the world, although some African capitals come close. If anything, there’s few places more grimy, dirty, polluted and grotty than this concrete boulevard of broken dreams. But (and it’s a big but) Manila is also one of the most vibrant, interesting and colourful cities I’ve ever visited. The street life in Manila is something I never tire of watching. The first, and overwhelming impression that most newbies will receive is the teeming masses of humanity everywhere. It’s a city that rarely sleeps. Tricycles, jeepneys, oversize SUV’s, belching buses and trucks all jostle for space in Manila’s crowded, narrow streets. Adding to the clamourous chaos is the number of sidewalk vendors selling everything from hot food, cigarettes (which one can buy singly or a whole pack), bottles of water, face clothes, umbrellas and cheap plastic ponchos if it’s wet. The high heat and sticky, cloying heat only adds to the overall claustrophobic atmosphere of Manila. Oh, and it does not simply rain in Manila. When it rains, it absolutely pours. Great grey clouds dump cataracts of rain on the city during the frequent tropical storms or typhoons visiting the Philippines. Plastic rainwear is almost de rigueur for the majority of people during the wet season; at least it seems that way sometimes. Although few pedestrians bother with raincoats, instead relying on umbrellas to keep them dry, almost every motorcyclist and tricycle operators wear head to toe rainwear of almost every description. The less well-off drivers tended to rely on badly stitched squares of grimy plastic for protection, but some people clearly valued staying dry over a few pesos because they wore high quality plastic rainsuits which would keep them dry during all but the worst of storms.

My run of rare good luck continued at the airport. It was blessedly quiet and I cleared Customs and Immigration in less than twenty minutes. The traffic was also unusually light (for the Philippines anyway) and I arrived at my hotel in less than fifteen minutes.

Time to relax. After a quick dinner, I collapsed on my bed.

Tomorrow the real fun would begin.

****************************************************************

Sleep didn’t come easily. Although my bed was more comfortable than anything I’ve slept in back home, I couldn’t help thinking about work. The soundless air-conditioning also kept the relentless, sultry heat out of my room as well. I sighed with deep contentment as I sank deeper into the comforting embrace of the soft, soft mattress and duvet. It’s not always easy reconciling an overseas trip with work. Manila is renowned for its nightlife, but pleasure would have to wait until I completed this assignment. The kind of forensic financial analysis I specialize in can be inordinately time consuming. Some offenders are very skilled in burying everything deep under rows and rows of figures, reports and other forms of data. I hoped it wouldn’t take that long though. I was being paid for two week’s work, regardless how long this job took. The suite was also mine until the Sunday after the next one.

The loneliness birds always pay me a visit when I’m overseas. There’s nothing emptier or lonelier than a huge bed in a luxury resort. I tried not to think about the lack of someone special in my life while I tossed and turned one way and that. Pretty girls are a dime a dozen in the Philippines and there’s any number of bars or nightclubs where I could easily pick up someone for the night, but it wasn’t what I wanted. I hadn’t forgotten the look of amused contempt in one gorgeous woman’s eyes when she realized what I wanted her to wear to bed. Besides… I’d long since decided that I would much rather wait until I met that really special someone, the soul mate I’d given up hope of meeting. My chest was cold and hard like the eggs the loneliness birds were depositing there while I gloomily thought about my chances of meeting The One.

Where was she? I wondered. Was The One out there looking for me too? It was a question which I could not answer.

Watching my mates dating and marrying their childhood sweethearts hurts more than I can say. It’s not something I talk about with anyone, but the pain never quite goes away. The old aphorism that no one ever forgets their first love is completely true. My first great love was called Joanne. She was also my first, but not last, unrequited love. I only had myself to blame. Pretty, vivacious little Jo was one of the few people at school who understood and accepted my disability. Joanne always had time for me. She was also very easy to talk to as well. Sadly, I could not muster the nerve to ask her out. Someone else swooped on her and that was that. They tied the knot less than one week after their final exams. Joanne asked me to attend their wedding, so I went, but it broke my heart seeing the girl I loved in someone else’s arms. It was a long time before I completely got over Joanne.

Eventually I somehow managed to drift off to an uneasy sleep populated by a series of bad dreams.

**********************************************************************

The Sofitel chain of hotels is renowned for their amazing buffet spreads and the Sofitel Philippine Plaza didn’t disappoint in that respect. The crispy bacon was absolutely delicious. Unlike some hotels which try to restrict the amount of bacon or other popular breakfast dishes which you’re allowed to consume in one sitting, the Sofitel imposed no such limits.

I was a happy - and very full - camper by the time I arrived at our large manufacturing facility located in nearby Pasay. It’s fortuitously near the airport – which is a crucial factor in dispatching the various, often delicate electronic items utilized by a number of other “just-in-time” manufacturers. At its simplest, just-in-time (JIT) supplies inventory to other manufacturers for immediate use in their production lines. They save a great deal of money on holding and other costs, and it also speeds up the production and delivery of goods.

The downside (and it’s a big one) is that this method of manufacturing requires reliable and strong logistics systems. And that’s sometimes easier said than done in the Philippines. Although we’ve established our own highly efficient logistics system, there’s little we can do about the weather. Because it's an island nation, the majority of product has to be sent by air, and if there is a major typhoon alert, every single flight is grounded which plays havoc with scheduling. We usually encourage our clients to stock up ahead of the rainy season to get around this problem, so if there are any delays, we don’t have to worry about their operations grinding to a halt.

Although Andrew did fill me in on what to expect and whom I needed to talk to, I had little idea what to expect when I walked through the front door. I was more than a little surprised to see how clean and well-run our Philippine operation was. The inefficiency of this country is legendary. Not here. The floors were neatly swept and there was not one spot of dust or dirt to be seen anywhere. More importantly, everyone appeared to be relaxed and happy: always a good sign. Our company prioritises people over profits, and it shows. Ironically, we achieve far better results with this approach than the other way around.

After the obligatory (and very interesting) tour of the facility, I settled down to work in the bright, roomy office provided for the purpose. Were it not for the spectacular tropical garden out front, I could have been anywhere in the world.

My fairy godmother must’ve been putting in a lot of overtime, because it didn’t take me long to narrow the problem down to little more than poor stock control and some slightly inefficient book keeping. After spending a couple of days ironing out everything, I was finally free.

Andrew would be happy. So was I. The needle in a haystack I’d been expecting turned out to be the exact opposite. It hadn’t been any harder than like spotting an elephant in short grass. I could hardly wait to goof off by the pool at the Sofitel, before deciding what to do next. The 7,641 islands of the Philippines were beckoning me. Their dreamy names evoked images of impossibly white beaches and cool blue water, bordering the greenest of green islands. Boracay, Palawan (actually a series of islands), Siquijor, Panglao, Camiguin, Marinduque. The names rolled off the tongue with ridiculous ease. I could hardly wait to see them all.

********************************************************************

As much as I love the spectacular buffet dinners of my hotel, sometimes I want nothing more than a fast, greasy hit of fried chicken, fries and a very cold Coke (or two) to wash down everything. KFC might not be good for my waistline, but it is good for the soul though.

Although it was only half past twelve, it was already quite gloomy. The view from our company corner suite was so spectacular that it took my breath away. On one side, I could see far, far out into Manila Bay, while the other boasted incomparable views of the city. Lightning split the horizon as towering grey ranks of cumulonimbus clouds bore down on Manila. The rainy season usually begins around June before ending in November or even December. Back home, the majority of rain that Melbourne receives tends to be in the form of scattered showers. It’s not often I see any really sustained spells of rain of the kind requiring complete wet weather protection.

In the Philippines, when it rains, it does not simply precipitate. It absolutely pours. Imagine standing under a shower and turning it on full blast – and then some. At least when it rains in the tropics, it’s generally warm, although no less wet for that. I’d come prepared though and I packed everything I needed inside a small, lightweight backpack. The Sofitel Philippine Plaza is a very easy one-and-a-half-kilometre walk from the sprawling Mall of Asia. It’s also one of the most scenic walks in mostly flat Manila, because the route takes in the adjacent bay of the same name as well. Consequently, the promenade is very popular with both locals and visitors alike. It’s a good place to escape the often-stifling heat in Manila. The one major downside of walking along the shoreline is that it’s hard to ignore all the plastic pollution in the Bay. Manila Bay is so polluted that nobody, not even the locals, dare swim on the city side. Only the poorest of the poor goes in the water near the docks or neighbouring Tondo. At least the sunsets are beautiful there though. I did wonder if I would see it set tonight though. The clouds were growing darker and uglier by the minute.

Far from deterring the crowds, the inclement weather only seemed to attract more people than usual, many of whom were stopping to photograph (or video) the spectacular storm activity. Despite being a Wednesday, the number of people out and about was absolutely astonishing. The concourse widened dramatically once I reached the Mall of Asia. The MOA (as the Mall of Asia is affectionately known as here) is the fourth largest shopping mall in the Philippines. Facing the Seaside Boulevard, the sprawling edifice is something like half a kilometre in length and almost as wide again. It houses the largest supermarket I’ve ever seen, hundreds of specialty shops, an IMAX theatre and dozens of other entertainment options. There’s so many restaurants that you would need half a year to visit all of them. Most of them – unsurprisingly – face the sea and they were all busy.

Whole families were picnicking on the paved areas in front of the sprawling mall. More people were enjoying themselves at the small, but bustling amusement park. The queues for the Ferris wheel were so long that I could not believe it. Every inch of the seawall was occupied by courting couples, some sitting quietly together, while others happily posed for any number of photos. One couple were even clad in translucent plastic rainwear from head to toe (perhaps anticipating the approaching storm?) and I envied them their obvious happiness. They were all over each other, and why wouldn’t they be? Although public affection is very much frowned on in the Philippines, these strictures didn’t appear to apply here. The loneliness birds were back, circling my cold, empty heart. I bit my lip and looked away. It’s hard being by yourself in a tropical country, especially a nation like the Philippines.

Try not to think about it,’ I told myself. Just relax and enjoy yourself. Easier said than done. There were any number of pretty girls enjoying a day out at the mall and it required all my self-control to refrain from perving on them. Unlike their more conservative province cousins, the more sophisticated city girls were far more scantily dressed. Half of them wore micro miniskirts which barely covered their beautiful butts. For such a poor country, it was amazing how much money seemed to be floating around here. Most of them also carried expensive designer handbags and equally costly cell phones. I wasn’t very hungry so I decided to stroll around the shops before stopping at KFC for lunch.

While the majority of cookie-cutter fashion and other high-end brand stores weren’t much different from those back home, many shops were dramatically different, particularly the hardware stores. They were much more cramped than the far more spacious Bunnings warehouses I was used to visiting. Although it wasn’t my first visit to the Philippines, I still couldn’t get over how many staff they employed on virtually every aisle. Would-be shoplifters would have a very miserable time here, because they’d be watched every inch of the way through the store. It was almost as bad in the giant ShoeMart (SM) department store as well. Watching the floor staff interacting with each other and other customers was almost as entertaining as perusing the stock. Half of the bored team members clearly couldn’t be bothered make the slightest effort, whilst others were over-enthusiastic to the point of being annoying.

In the usual inefficient manner of the Philippines, the vast majority of stock was crammed onto the shelving without any thought given to visual merchandising or customer convenience. After inspecting the extremely limited range of mostly poor-quality gardening implements and safety clothing, I arrived at the rainwear aisle. It too, was overflowing with any amount of rainwear and rainboots. An attractive young Filipina was trying on a translucent green plastic raincoat. The girl didn’t look in my direction while she meticulously fastened each button before doing up the hood but good and tight. It was such a captivating sight that I could only stare while she tied the laces tightly under her pert little chin. Before I had a chance to react, she turned around and spotted me staring. Her face was unreadable but I could see the annoyance (and a little embarrassment?) in her eyes as she quickly spun around.

After undoing everything, she quickly walked away with the raincoat slung under one arm. Not for the first time, I wondered what might have been while I sadly perused the interesting racks of messily hung rainwear. I just have no talent for making conversation and befriending people, that’s the problem. My confidence is almost zero because of my hearing difficulties. It scarcely helped that a couple of bored twenty-something girls were idly watching me while I studied the rainwear. At least they stayed well away from me so that was something anyway. Actually making the effort to help me was work, and that was something to be avoided at all costs. For the first time, I was glad that they were so slovenly.

Although the Philippines is a very wet country, I was surprised how much rainwear was being put out for sale. If only they displayed it more attractively. Oh well. It only made poking through everything that much more interesting. The number of styles and different plastics was amazing. Most of the long, knee-length clear see-through plastic macs had been hung on the rack and they positively fluoresced with almost every colour of the rainbow. A number of shorter hip-length jackets (similar to those I’d seen some tricycle drivers wearing in the rain) were also displayed here as well. For those requiring stouter protection, they offered a smaller range of somewhat pricey heavy duty yellow and green knee-length raincoats and jackets. I’d seen police and traffic enforcers wearing these more than once. Unlike their thinner, but much smoother plastic cousins, they were only available in an unattractive matte PVC. The two-piece rainsuits were more interesting though. Most of them came in the same smooth plastic as the long raincoats. Some other rainsuits had been manufactured in a deliciously soft, smooth plastic which I liked very much. Someone had carelessly opened (more like, tore open) one pack containing another unbelievably smooth and shiny yellow and black vinyl rainsuit.

The contrast between this Aladdin’s cave of rainwear and Bunnings, back home in Australia, could not be greater. All they offered was an ugly, unattractive range of cheaply-made, washed out yellow poly macs and trousers – made in China, of course. They never seemed to sell any of them either.

My stomach was reminding me that I was hungry, so I wandered outside. The number of people crowding inside the giant mall was absolutely amazing. Oh, the irony. I was surrounded by thousands of people but… Why did I feel lonelier than ever? Everyone else seemed so happy. Excited chatter and laughter filled the air. Several couples were holding hands. One did not have to be a rocket scientist to read their body language, and I gloomily wondered if I would ever find a love like the kind they were sharing together. For God’s sake, I’ve never even kissed anyone (maiden aunties do not count!) and that hurts too. I could only imagine what holding hands, never mind cuddling and hugging that special someone must feel like. ‘Stop thinking about it!,’ I sternly reminded myself for the umpteenth time. It will happen one day. One day. Yes, right. Everyone said I would find love when I least expected it. Miss Right is waiting for you around the corner. What a pity I just didn’t believe any of my friend’s well-meaning aphorisms.

A large clock informed me that it was almost half-past two and I felt my tummy rumble harder. A good meal of chicken and fries was exactly what I needed right now, and I instinctively quickened my step. The delicious scent of frying chicken guided me around the last corner. A queue spilled outside the front door and I sighed. My feet were already complaining about all the walking I’d done today. All I wanted to do was sit down and eat. Fortunately, the unusually efficient staff knew the drill down pat and I was seated with a piping hot pack of chicken and an icy-cold Coke in less than twenty minutes. Every table was taken. I was the only one seated by myself at a table for two by the front window where I could check out the passing parade of people. Because the vast majority of Filipinos tended to congregate in groups, no one joined me. The noise level was so great that I could barely hear – not that it mattered much, anyway.

At least the chicken was good. It was very good. I’d asked for drumsticks, much to the bemusement of the young cashier who couldn’t understand my English nor my accent. They were far bigger than the ones I was used to consuming back home, and I hoped that no one had genetically modified these ginormous chook legs. A sudden shadow covered the table.

“Excuse?” a shy voice said and I glanced upwards. “May… may I sit here?”

“Yes… of course you can,” I automatically replied, not wishing to sound rude. The last thing I wanted, despite my loneliness, was company.

“Salamat…” The unwelcome intruder carefully placed a tray of food on the table. “I mean… thank you.”

I curiously studied the girl standing opposite me. Unlike her more scantily dressed contemporaries, she was far more neatly, if somewhat conservatively dressed in a crisp, short-sleeved white shirt which she’d buttoned up almost to the collar and the cutest pair of blue denim shorts I’d ever seen. I privately thought that it was a much more attractive look.

“Walang anuman.” My command of Tagalog isn’t great, but I do know some basic words and phrases. Everyone is always inordinately pleased when they see that I’m making an effort to learn their language. It’s a great way of breaking the ice in the Philippines.

“Oh. You know how to speak the language.” The girl’s smile was a bright, brilliant sun which exploded into my consciousness like a supernova. For the first time, I really noticed the lovely woman sitting opposite me. She was absolutely gorgeous. Pretty Filipinas are a dime a dozen around here, but this sassy, sultry little sexpot was something else again. She wasn’t classically beautiful like some of the incredible creatures I’d seen earlier, but there was something about this vivacious, winsome brown beauty which instantly captured my heart. I’d never wanted to hold someone in my arms, to feel the softness of her lips upon mine, so much all my life, as the beautiful little thing facing me. Her skin was that deep, flawless brown which emphasized her vitality and health. Her curvaceous ski-jump nose was so cute that I wished I could kiss it. The only blemish was a tiny, black mole seated just to the right of her nose, but it only served to highlight the beauty of her face. The girl’s full, perfectly formed lips parted again with another dazzling smile which liquefied my heart. Clearly taking my measure as well, her dark smoky eyes crinkled with interest. She’d applied some dark eyeliner to highlight those gorgeous eyes seated beneath a pair of slightly too bushy eyebrows. An unruly lock of hair fell across one eye, and she unconsciously swept it backwards, exposing a tiny, perfect set of ears and… what? A hearing aid?

Realising that I’d noticed her hearing aid, she flushed before gasping softly. She’d noticed my own, exactly similar hearing aid.

“Are… are you deaf?” she whispered.

I nodded. “Oo… yes.”

“Me also,” she carefully enunciated. “Ahm… you born deaf?”

“Yes. I was born deaf,” I replied, unable to believe what was happening.

“You speak well,” she shyly observed.

“Thanks.” The noise was reaching new heights of hysteria. A group of people were singing “Happy Birthday” amidst a great deal of screaming and yelling. “It’s very noisy here. Tell me if you can’t understand what I’m saying.”

She smiled again and my heart performed another flip-flop with a twist and pike. ‘Down, boy!’ I lectured myself. Soon she would finish eating and depart like a ship passing in the night, never to be seen again.

“Is Ok. Walang problema. I mean, no problem. … I can read lips.” She held her phone aloft. “If noisy too much, I use translating app on phone. Is very good.”

I couldn’t believe it. She was using the same app which I’d helped design and produce. “That’s great to hear!” I exclaimed. “I also use it too. It’s really, really useful. It helps me a lot if it’s very noisy.”

“Oh yes…” she happily agreed. “Pero you have very clear voice. Is easy understand you.”

“Um… what is your name?” I asked. I wanted to learn everything there was to know about the lovely girl who’d just walked into my life out of nowhere.

“My name?” Her smouldering eyes gazed into mine as she replied, “I am Lovely Amihan Loyola.” Another soft giggle. “But… you know, everyone calls me Amy.”

“What a beautiful name you have,” I slowly replied. Lovely by name and nature. “It’s … very different. But very original too.”

“Salamat. What’s your name?”

“David Brown,” I replied, wishing I had a more interesting moniker. No one was ever going to cast me in a Hollywood blockbuster with a name like mine. They all have glamorous names such as John Travolta or Leonardo DiCaprio.

“David…” she slowly repeated my name. “I like it. Is nice name.”

“Thanks,” I replied. “It’s nice to meet you, Amy.”

Amy giggled. “Same here. Nice to meet you too! Ahmmm… David, what brings you here? Where are you from?”

I inhaled deeply, before replying. My earlier annoyance was gone. It was really nice having someone to talk to again. “Partly business, pleasure.” Realising I needed to elaborate. “I’m a financial analyst. I work for a software and electronics manufacturer. They sent me here to investigate some problems with one of our subsidiaries here.”

“Wow… I see.” Amy smiled again. “Did… it go well?”

“Very,” I smiled. “I was lucky. It was easy to find and fix.”

“Greatttt.” Amy beamed. “I’m happy so much to hear that.”

“Indeed. I’m happy because I can relax now. My boss said I can have a holiday after finishing.”

“Absolutely,” Amy agreed. “Where you from? You like Philippines?”

“I’m from Australia,” I replied. “I live in Melbourne. And um… to answer your question, the Philippines is… it’s very different. But I love your country. Everyone’s so laid-back and friendly.”

“Yes, indeed…” Amy said, as a shadow crossed her eyes.

I wondered why she didn’t seem totally enthusiastic but I didn’t push the point. “So… what about you? What do you do?”

“I’m a student,” Amy smiled. “I study hospitality and hotel management at university.”

“That’s a good career. Tourism is pretty big here,” I observed. “Are you enjoying yourself at uni?”

“Um…. Yes and no,” Amy cryptically said.

“Huh? What do you mean? Why yes and no?”

“Mmhmmm.” Amy thought for a moment. “I love studying hospitality and hotel management. It is very interesting. But…” She sighed softly. “Sometimes already, I find it difficult much at school.”

“Why?” I curiously asked.

“The course material is… not difficult. Is easy.” Amy inhaled deeply before looking into my eyes. “Sometimes… I feel lonely. It’s… hard making friends. Many people there, you know. It’s… very social. Many clubs, societies. But… I feel left out because… you know, everyone talks so very fast. I can’t understand so… I can’t … join in.”

I nodded understandingly. “I know. I’ve also been there too,” I sighed. “I didn’t enjoy university much either for the same reason as you. I didn’t make many friends there.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I sighed. “I could not follow what everyone’s saying at barbeques or dinner because most of them just haven’t got the patience to slow down and look at me so I can lip-read what they’re saying. Some people did try, but they just end up forgetting. I could not keep up with the conversation and I used to get so bored.”

Amy chuckled sympathetically. “Same here. I couldn’t keep up either so I stopped trying. You know, I’m a very friendly person, but almost everyone thought I was aloof and reserved.”

“You’re not the only one. You and me both.”

“Thank you for listening.” Our eyes met with complete, empathetic understanding. “You’re the first person who really… understands.”

“Hey, it’s OK!” I gently replied. Oh, my God. I was already more than half in love with the lovely girl seated opposite me. Lovely Amihan was so beautiful in every way. There was nothing artificial or fake about this shy, diffident young thing. “I also know hard it is being deaf, especially socially. I never learned sign language, so the fully Deaf community won’t accept me and I also don’t fit into the hearing world either.”

“We are square pegs in round holes,” Amy observed.

“Exactly.” God, she was perceptive.

“I’m worried because I think already maybe I will not get a job,” Amy sighed. “I did practicum a few months ago but… it did not go well.”

“Practicum? What’s that I curiously asked. “And why didn’t it go well?”

“Ahh… sorry. Practicum… it is practical work experience. Like that, you know?” Amy sipped her Coke before continuing. “I work in big restaurant in Makati. It did not go good because… we have to work hard. Work is very fast. Always go, go, go. It’s noisy so much, I can’t hear. Only way to understand what my boss or other people say is ask if they will speak slow so I can lip-read, but… who has the time to do that? You know what I mean?”

Poor Amy. I did know what she meant. “I used to work in a restaurant so I could earn extra cash while I was at uni,” I told her. “They wouldn’t let me operate the EFTPOS machine out front. My boss actually said that they didn’t want me to embarrass them because I couldn’t hear. Never mind one of the waiters who got every order wrong at this table, one evening at work. Which is more embarrassing, honestly?”

Indignantly, “That’s so unfair! It’s so mean.”

I couldn’t help smiling. Amy’s anger was as cute as it was touching. “It’s OK. The Karma Bus ended up hitting my old employers not long after I got fired. They went bust. Broke. Bankrupt.”

Amy smiled widely. “Serves them right!”

“You should have seen all of the awful online reviews. One guy said the only way to get attention was trip over a waitress.”

“That’s funny,” Amy giggled.

“On happier subjects, how old are you?” I asked. “Tell me more about yourself please. What do you enjoy doing when you’re not working or studying?”

*************************************************************

Never, all my life, could I remember the time passing this quickly. Lovely Amihan Loyola was so easy to talk to. Our conversation flowed effortlessly from one topic to another like the constant trade winds that the Philippines enjoys during certain times of the year. I had no idea, until Amy told me, that her name actually originates from the north-east monsoon bringing rain to the Philippines.

Lovely Amihan was truly a child of the sun and the rain. I wondered if her name was prophetic.

“Excuse?” a polite voice said.

“Huh?” Slightly irritated with the interruption, I looked upwards.

“I apologise for interrupting, sir. But… sir, we are closing now.”

“Oh…!” I exclaimed before gazing around. The once-clamourous restaurant was still and silent now. We were the only customers left. The vast majority of the KFC crew had already left. Only a few crew members were left and I could see them watching us and giggling from the front counter. “Oh, my God. I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

“Walang problema. It is OK,” the manager (I could see his badge) smiled. “I saw you come in earlier.”

Amy giggled and I smiled. “Yeah. We had a lot to talk about.”

The manager laughed. “Oo, I could see that. How was the food?”

Food? What food? I ruefully studied my stone-cold, uneaten chicken. I only had time for one drumstick before Amy walked into my life. Amy had also barely touched her meal as well. “Um…”

“Say no more.” He laughed again. “We’ve still got some hot chicken left if you would like some.”

“Oh, that’s very kind of you,” I exclaimed. “Are any of your cash registers still open so I can pay for it?”

“Hindi.” He shook his head. “It’s on the house. I’m happy you both … ah… enjoyed yourselves.”

“Oh… we did. Very much,” Amy said. Her face was so radiant that I felt my heart catch.

“Thank you very much,” I replied. “I mean… salamat.”

*********************************************************************

The mall was eerily dark and quiet while we strolled towards the rear exit facing the sea. I could hear a strange drumming noise above us, and I wondered what it was. Air conditioning units? They would have been working overtime not long ago. It was cooler now, much to my relief. The heaving crowds had vanished, although we were far from alone. Most of the people ahead of us were couples or small groups leaving the numerous restaurants dotted around the vast complex. They were all holding hands. Some of the courting couples were all but joined together at the hip and I smiled.

Amy was so close to me that I could feel the warmth of her presence. Already her arm had brushed against mine a couple of times, sending an electrifying tingle through my skin. I sensed, rather than felt Amy looking in my direction. Our eyes met with a spine-tingling, almost telepathic understanding. A tiny finger curled around mine and I felt my heart liquefy as another one followed it. Amy leant against me as her hand insinuated itself into mine. Her smile told me everything I needed to know as it squeezed mine very hard. Lovely Amihan’s hand was very warm inside mine as she bounced alongside me. Sometimes, words are simply unnecessary. Amy’s smile seared my heart every time she looked at me.

I could not see how the best day of my life could possibly get any better.

I was wrong.

********************************************************************

Lovely Amihan Loyola and I were content to stroll quietly down the long passageway past the giant SM department store on our left, leading to the second level of the Entertainment Mall, as the seaside section facing Manila Bay, is known. There, we would ride the escalator down to the ovoid ‘Music Hall’ before crossing Seaside Boulevard and heading in the direction of my hotel. There’s nothing more special than meeting someone and instinctively realising that both of us want to spend the rest of our lives together. I didn’t even have to assume, much less ask. Some things just are.

Amy wasn’t shy about making it perfectly clear how she felt about me, once or twice quickly resting her head on my shoulder while we walked down the endlessly long corridor. I couldn’t get over the way her fingers were lovingly entwined around mines as well. Thank God she couldn’t easily see the bulge in my pants. Thank God they’d dimmed the lighting just enough to see where we were going.

Sometimes, there’s few things more beautiful than sharing a warm companionable silence, where you’re just happy to enjoy each other’s company. We hadn’t spoken since leaving the restaurant. The chicken they’d given us was reassuringly heavy inside the bag I was carrying in my left hand.

The Mall of Asia is so big that it’d taken us something like ten minutes to reach the other side of the building. We hadn’t hurried though, stopping occasionally to window shop the displays inside the shuttered shops. That strange susurration I’d heard earlier was getting louder now. We were nearing the uniquely styled Music Hall taking (no pun meant, or intended) the front stage at the rear side of MOA. It’s shaped somewhat like the stern of an ocean liner and is used for music recitals, some concerts, small trade or other shows. The Music Hall is a real communal hub which everyone naturally gravitates to, during the day. When someone says, “I’ll meet you at the Music Hall”, everyone knows exactly where to go. Although the Music Hall is undercover, one side is also more or less completely open to the elements. After descending to the ground level, we headed in the direction of the exit before stopping dead.

It was raining. Heavily. The storm clouds I’d noticed earlier today must have moved in. The rain was belting down in one, great driving sheet after another of water. I’d seen dozens of ships anchored offshore, waiting to load (or unload) their cargoes during my walk earlier, but they were mere barely distinct smudges of light now. “Wow…!” I exclaimed. The big Ferris wheel on our left was little more than a ghostly halo of light.

“Oh…” Amy said. Her expressive face was a picture of complete dismay, and my heart sank. I honestly couldn’t blame her. I’d visited the Philippines often enough to learn that the majority of these people regard rain as an airborne version of lava. Despite the amount of rain that this waterlogged country receives, very few people actually wear raincoats of any kind. Although plastic rainwear remains popular with tricycle drivers, traffic enforcers, farmers and other outdoor workers, the vast majority of pedestrians just shun raincoats. Umbrellas are the only form of wet weather protection they’ll even consider, no matter how bad the weather is. In fact, it’s also common for people to stay home rather than attend a relative’s party, if it’s raining heavily.

“It’s a bit wet, isn’t it?” I commented.

“Have you got an umbrella?” Amy plaintively asked. “The rain is very heavy and you will get soaked.”

I shook my head. “Nope. What about you?”

Amy bit her lip before replying. Somewhat reluctantly, “I have raincoat. But… what about you? I don’t want you will get wet and cold.” Thoughtfully, “We can get a Grab. Or a taxi?”

“Thank you so much for your concern,” I smiled. A raincoat? I could hardly wait to see what her idea of wet weather protection looked like. “That’s a great idea, but we’ll have to wait forever to get one tonight.”

“I know,” Amy sighed. “And you know, already, they will charge double.”

“Anyway, why don’t you put your raincoat on now?” I asked.

“Ummm… yeah. OK.” Amy’s face was unusually flushed as she delved inside her commodious carry bag, before emerging with her rainwear. She hurriedly attempted to stuff the bottom half back inside, but her rainpants, for that’s what they were, flopped untidily on the concrete floor. Amy could barely face me while she shook her long, translucent yellow plastic raincoat open.

“Wow…!” I exclaimed. “I like your raincoat. It looks really nice.”

“Thank you,” Amy replied in a tiny, shy voice. “You really like?”

“Oh yes,” I replied with no small amount of feeling. “Of course, I do.” I’d never seen anything like it before. Amy’s beautiful raincoat had been manufactured in the thickest, smoothest plastic I’d ever seen. The deep yellow plastic was speckled with a uniform pattern of small white dots. I could see a pair of drawstring laces in the middle.

Pleased with my obvious approval, Amy slid her arms into one sleeve, then the other, while I incredulously looked on. The heavy, smooth plastic rustled loudly while she adjusted the elasticated hem of each sleeve.

“Wait,” I interjected just before Amy began buttoning up her raincoat. “Why don’t you put your rainpants on first? It’ll be easier.”

“Great idea.” Amy beamed, clearly delighted that I was taking such an interest in everything. She promptly sat down on a nearby concrete bench and began inserting each foot, followed by her legs inside her rainpants. Aware of my interest, Amy giggled as she stood up and hitched her glossy rainpants all the way up her stomach. Her eyes never left me as she fussily adjusted them just below the delicious swell of her breasts. “David… please help me do up the buttons,” she purred.

“Yes, ma’am…” I chuckled. “Your wish is my command.”

Oh my God. This was just not happening. Amy’s great toothy grin was so wide that I thought her face must split in half while I carefully pushed each strong press stud home. I was on a roll now. Whoever designed Amy’s raincoat knew what they were doing, I thought while I drew the drawstring circling her waist taut. “I like that,” Amy sighed. “Tighter please.”

After lacing up the drawstring, Amy somewhat shakily took my hands and drew them upwards. I admit that I almost lost it when I realized what she wanted me to do. My hands glided upwards, as if guided by a will of their own, and took the hood dangling limply downwards behind Amy’s head before pulling it over her head. Her eyes were wider than ever while I slowly drew the hood tighter and tighter around her lovely face. “Perfect,” Amy breathed huskily after tying the laces under her chin.

“There. You won’t drown now,” I joked.

“I don’t think so.” Amy’s voice was very breathy now. “Thank you for helping me put my plastic raincoat on.”

“It was a real pleasure,” I smiled.

“But… David,” Amy anxiously said. “Where is your raincoat? Do you have?”

“Yes… I do.” I nodded for extra emphasis. I also have a raincoat too.” I motioned in the direction of the small backpack I was toting.

Amy beamed. “Talaga? Ok, put it on now,” she said in the tone of a schoolteacher used to being obeyed.

“Yes, Amy, I hear and obey.” I simply could not believe this was happening. She was all sunshine and laughter now. Her eyes never left me while I slung my bag off my back. My heart was in my mouth while I pulled everything out. What would Amy say when she saw my rainwear? It was complete overkill, even for this weather, but I hadn’t planned on having company when I packed everything earlier. I tried to hide my bib-pants but they landed on the concrete floor when I pulled my shiny yellow FarmerRain mac out of its hidey hole. Oh no…

Before I had time to react, Amy gleefully pounced on my matching yellow bib-pants and shook them loose. “Wow…! I love these,” she said. “They will keep you very dry. I want you to wear them. Come on, put them on.”

I had some idea how Alice felt upon visiting Wonderland for the first time, while Amy firmly sat me down on the seat before undoing my shoes. Never, all my life, had anyone helped me with dressing for anything, much less my shiny yellow rainwear. My head spun while Amy tucked the legs upwards before motioning for me to put my foot inside. Lovely Amihan was all business now. Her hands flew while she helped me insert my legs inside my bib-pants. “Stand up.”

What could I do, except obey? My boner was bigger than ever and I vainly hoped that Amy hadn’t noticed it. A low, delighted giggle told me that she had indeed spotted the tent that I was pitching. I was so embarrassed that I couldn’t meet her eyes while she pulled the bib-pants all the way up my chest before passing each flap over my shoulders and firmly fastened everything in place. It scarcely helped that several people were watching our performance and I could hear them commenting on it.

“David… I really love these,” Amy said. She wonderingly ran her hand down the side of my rain overalls. “They are so smooth.”

“And waterproof too,” I added.

“Yes… very,” Amy agreed. “Ok, raincoat now.” She picked up my impossibly shiny yellow raincoat and helped me slip it on. I was a statue while my raincoated companion set about doing up every button, before pulling the attached belt as tight as it would go. The softness in her eyes while she secured the hood of my raincoat was worth all the embarrassment, and then some. “Now we are all ready for the rain, my darling,” Lovely Amihan whispered.

“I think we won’t get wet now,” I agreed. “Shall we?”

“Let’s go!” Amy exclaimed before pulling me forwards.

The rain struck us as soon as we left the shelter of the cavernous Music Hall. Although there wasn’t much wind, the torrential rain sheeted downwards, soaking everything in its way. The milling crowds I’d seen earlier had largely vanished, although a few couples were stoically braving the rain beneath their umbrellas. Normally, even at this time of night, the seawall would have been jampacked with people, but they’d all gone too. I wondered what happened to the nice couple I’d seen earlier. How I’d envied them earlier.

Wasn’t that ironic? I’d never felt as lonely all my life as that moment. Less than an hour later, beautiful Lovely Amihan Loyola walked into my life out of nowhere and completely up-ended it. As if guessing my thoughts, Amy half turned sideways and gave me another dazzling smile. Her hand was very warm inside mine while we happily strolled down the deserted boulevard. My chest was so tight that I thought it must burst any moment as she squeezed my hand. It was the kind of very special intimacy I’d never expected to experience. During more than one long, lonely night in bed, I’d wondered and fantasised about what it would feel like being with a girl like Amy Loyola. The reality was even better than even the most lurid of my wildest fantasies. I had no way of processing the absolutely euphoric joy overwhelming me while the girl of my dreams snuggled closely against me.

Rain continued beating a staccato, military tattoo upon our rainwear. Amy’s beautiful bubblegum yellow raincoat glistened with moisture under the soft, effulgent glow of the lights illuminating the footpath. Water coalesced in great fat silver droplets before losing their battle with gravity, slowly sliding downwards and picking up speed on the slippery plastic. Our feet were saturated but I didn’t mind because it wasn’t cold. Next time, I thought, we’ll wear rainboots. If we can find some.

“It’s so ganda … I mean, beautiful out here,” Amy sighed.

“It sure is.” I stopped so Amy could read my lips. The twinkling lights of the giant city coruscated on the rain-dappled water of Manila Bay. A very large cruise ship had arrived sometime earlier today and its galaxy of multi-hued lights bounced off the water. “But talaga, you’re more ganda than anything else.”

“Dearest David…” Amy murmured. “I’m so happy I met you.” She released her grip on my hand before melting into my arms. Before I had a chance to react, she wrapped her arms around me, and pulled me close. Her beautiful face, framed by that great rippling dome of glistening plastic, was just inches away from my nose. Amy’s eyes were huge, round pools of endless love as she gazed full into my face. My heart stopped as she leant closer. Her impossibly soft lips met mine for a kiss that seemed to last forever. It was a bult of electricity which coursed throughout my body. Time ground to a standstill as Lovely Amihan Loyola pressed her lips against mine again. I never wanted the moment to end. Oh my God. I’d never even come close to capturing the unbelievable reality of my incomparably beautiful first kiss. “My darling…” Amy kissed me again before withdrawing.

Happiness is such an insubstantial, ethereal emotion. It’s the hardest thing in the world to find, yet it can be taken away in the blink of an eye. I barely noticed the driving rain ineffectually striking our plastic raincoats while Amy and I gazed into each other’s eyes. I knew that I’d found a love which would endure across the months and years to come. It was such a giddy, heady feeling that I almost swooned then and there. I was actually scared to say anything lest I spoil the moment. Fortunately, Amy solved the problem for me with another loving kiss. “I never expect this will happen,” she whispered.

“Neither can I.” I kissed Amy again. I couldn’t get enough of her lips against mine. “I’m scared I’ll wake up and find out I’m dreaming,” I said.

Amy giggled. “Me too. But… my darling… this is real.” She mashed her lips against mine again before hugging me with all her might.
mason
Posts: 989
Joined: February 2nd, 2010, 3:34 am

Re: SOUL MATE (continued)

Post by mason »

********************************************************************

A walk which should have taken fifteen minutes required almost one hour because we kept stopping to kiss. I think I floated the whole way back to my hotel. My feet did not touch the ground once. Not once did Amy bring up the subject of going home. It was an unspoken given that she would join me for the first of what I hoped would be many nights together.

Although the Sofitel Philippine Plaza is a five-star hotel-cum-resort, they’re actually pretty relaxed around there. Unlike other much stuffier hotels, they don’t care much about what their guests wear, as long as they’re decently dressed. Other than being required to check Amy in as a ‘guest’, they didn’t pass comment on our dripping rainwear.

Amy clung to me like a starfish in the lift all the way up to the top floor where my corner suite was located. She never, not once, made any effort to undo her raincoat. The tightly tied hood framing her face stayed firmly put while we strolled down the long corridor. Not for the first time, I wondered if I’d entered a parallel universe while my raincoated companion and I walked in the direction of my room. Nevertheless, the nagging feeling that I’d forgotten something wouldn’t leave my mind, but I couldn’t for the life of me, figure out what it was.

After unlocking the door with our personalized keycard, I ushered Amy inside the small lobby, adjacent to my roomy suite. The lobby light automatically registered our presence and illuminated the area, but the bedroom and living areas remained dark. I didn’t have to worry about fumbling for any switches because the hidden sensors would yell ‘Tilt!’ when we tripped them. That uneasy feeling was stronger than ever as we stopped for another long embrace and kiss.

All too soon, we were forced to unentangle ourselves. Amy wanted to go to the toilet. The luxurious bathroom was located in another corner to take full advantage of the views. I was looking forwards to bathing with Amy there.

“Oh!” Amy exclaimed with utter, total shock the moment the light came on.

Oh no… I wanted to die. My heart congealed with cold dread while she looked around. Amy’s expressive Filipino features were writ large with complete disbelief. Her mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ as she looked at me before trotting in the direction of my bed and the nearby dresser.

I wanted to cry while she incredulously examined everything. My embarrassment was complete and total. How could I have been so stupid? Of course, I’d never, not in a million years, expected to come home with a guest, much less the girl I already wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

My heart was dead as I steeled myself for the inevitable. I was about to lose the only girl I’d ever loved. Any moment now, she would…

Amy held my large, full-cut plastic pants in from of her goggling eyes. Her eyebrows formed a deep furrow as she glanced in my direction before returning to the items I’d laid out on the bed. Amy shook her head again while she studied my hot pink polka-dot plastic briefs. I’d laid out everything I needed for an afternoon (or evening?) of solo fun after completing my assignment.

My dirty little secret was out in the open. That it should be the only girl I’d ever wanted all my life who discovered it, only made everything worse. For the first time, I felt dirty and ashamed of my fetish interests.

Still Amy didn’t speak. Her silence was more chilling than any amount of words while she disbelievingly held my favourite blue plastic playsuit in her hands. Amy’s face was unreadable while she ran the impossibly smooth, almost sticky plastic through her fingers.

Perhaps worst of all, was my inability to say or do anything as Amy headed in the direction of the commodious dresser. I was a statue, frozen in place, unable to move or speak. Despite the horror of the situation, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the tableau taking place in front of me. Amy was turning my ballgag one way and that. The big ball glowed like the setting sun in the centre of leather straps surrounding it. There was no way she could not know what it was for. Her basilisk eyes speared into mine before returning to the remainder of my bondage equipment which I’d planned to use later. Rope, handcuffs, straps; they were all there.

I could not face Amy as she walked towards me. Her face was an inscrutable mask while she solemnly regarded me. Well. If I was going to lose her, I would not make it worse with begging or pleading. Nevertheless, I couldn’t help flinching as Amy lifted her hands upwards before unlacing the hood of her raincoat. My heart was beginning to shatter into a million cold, hard icicles while she slowly unbuttoned her raincoat. The girl I loved was going to leave me. Undoing her rainwear symbolized her rejection of my plastic fetish and everything I was as a person.

Amy’s rainpants swiftly followed with an intoxicating rustle of plastic. If I hadn’t been so upset, I would have enjoyed watching the girl neatly folding her rainwear and placing it on the top of a chair. She was now clad in the same crisp white shirt and denim shorts I’d seen earlier today.

Lovely Amihan Loyola’s eyes never left mine as she slowly unbuttoned her shorts.

Huh? Surprised and somewhat wary, I looked on as she let them drop untidily on the carpet. What on Earth was Amy up to?

Slowly, very slowly, Amy began undoing each button, one by one. I wanted to scream with tension as she moved downwards. Her beautiful lips creased with the biggest, cheesiest grin I’d ever seen as she flung her shirt aside.

“You’re not the only one who likes this too,” Amy said while I disbelievingly studied the sticky, sweaty green plastic playsuit and plastic panties clinging to her butt.

True soulmates only appear once in a lifetime, and I felt my heart fill to the point I thought it would burst any moment as Lovely Amihan Loyola melted into my arms for an embrace that would last the rest of that heaven-blessed night. I also learned what it feels like to make love with someone you’re absolutely crazy, head-over-heels in love with. It’s the best thing in the world.
yellowgirl
Posts: 151
Joined: November 1st, 2014, 9:22 pm

Re: SOUL MATE (M/F, rainwear, consensual, no sex)

Post by yellowgirl »

Wow nice story hope to hear and read more
Mackymick
Posts: 101
Joined: August 3rd, 2020, 1:49 pm
Location: London

Re: SOUL MATE (M/F, rainwear, consensual, no sex)

Post by Mackymick »

Beautiful. Xxxx
pvcluver
Posts: 290
Joined: March 17th, 2010, 6:15 pm
Location: West Midlands, UK
Contact:

Re: SOUL MATE (M/F, rainwear, consensual, no sex)

Post by pvcluver »

Such a lovely story, I am sure many of us have a similar desire to meet a plastic loving soulmate. It is so well written as well, you should be an author
shinymacs
Posts: 178
Joined: January 21st, 2011, 9:20 am
Location: hampshire/dorset border

Re: SOUL MATE (M/F, rainwear, consensual, no sex)

Post by shinymacs »

Superbly written story...and as pvcluver said there are many of us who would relish meeting a shiny soulmate !
Mackymick
Posts: 101
Joined: August 3rd, 2020, 1:49 pm
Location: London

Re: SOUL MATE (M/F, rainwear, consensual, no sex)

Post by Mackymick »

I hope you continue to write more stories. Great bedtime reading!!!
Mackymick
Posts: 101
Joined: August 3rd, 2020, 1:49 pm
Location: London

Re: SOUL MATE (M/F, rainwear, consensual, no sex)

Post by Mackymick »

Its good to see some new stories on here. It had dried up a bit during the summer.
RainwearWife
Posts: 60
Joined: March 18th, 2022, 9:11 am
Location: UK

Re: SOUL MATE (M/F, rainwear, consensual, no sex)

Post by RainwearWife »

What a lovely story! Romantic, a good helping of the shiny stuff and exceptionally well written. I take my (glossy PVC) hat off to you, mason!
Kaggyfan
Posts: 73
Joined: August 11th, 2021, 7:40 am
Location: Essex.

Re: SOUL MATE (M/F, rainwear, consensual, no sex)

Post by Kaggyfan »

I've stayed in Manila several times, both on business and pleasure and when it rains, boy does it rain! They know how to dress for it, a sea of pvc ponchos and cagoules in an amazing array of colours all mostly hooded. And the women....... beautiful. I'm hoping to get back there again soon.
Great story Mason. Lets have more.
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