My Story

[british_boy]

The flight was long. Between London and Dubai I drifted in an out of a half sleep; watching but not watching the in-flight films, and feeling alternating between feelings of madness, euphoria, and the sense of having made the sanest decision of my life.

Dubai airport teemed with people. Twenty-four hours without sleep and my eyes stung as the sharp desert sunlight pierced the windows of the transfer lounge. Arabs in white robes were everywhere, and it crossed my mind that I could be stoned to death there for what I was doing. Could the guy who served me an oversized cappucino read my thoughts? I tried to read Time magazine and put all thoughts of sex out of my head just in case. Fatigue was making my paranoid. Three hours later and I boarded the Manila plane. The whole situation became more real when I looked around me to see that the whole plane was packed with Filipinos and me... a blue eyed white boy in a sea of weathered brown workers heading home to their families. Like I said, I was paranoid, but I'm sure they eyed me like I didn't belong on their plane, or in their world.

It was midnight when as I dragged my suitcase through the dated arrivals hall in Manila airport, but it could have been any time of day. Stepping through the doors, the sultry heat pressed on my face like a hot towel. Cities have a smell, and Manila's was pungent and thick, rising up from the pavements and drains, and pervading everything. I looked around for that face I'd seen a hundred times. Nothing. No one looked familiar, and all I could see was movement; of taxis; of people; of security; of traffic. Where was she? I looked back through the arrival hall's doors but I couldn't see her, or anyone remotely like her. My head started to swim, and a wave of fatigue and nausea washed over me. She wasn't there. A thousand quid on travel and hotels and she wasn't there. I was a fool. I felt like crying; not through sadness but of anger; not at her, but at myself for being so ridiculous. But I still had some hope left - maybe she got lost, maybe the taxi broke down? I pulled out my phone. Nothing. I searched in vain, but it wouldn't pick up the local networks. Payphone, I thought. There must be a payphone inside. But I couldn't get inside. "No entry!" the security said, impervious to my pleas. I was out and had to stay out. Where the hell was I? I sat on my case and lit the first cigarette in what seemed like days. I saw the rest of my trip unfold with startling clarity.. a night or two alone in a Manila hotel, the a rebooked flight back to London...

[british_boy]

I guess I should add some pictures of my girl before I get round to typing the sexy bit of the story and the happy ending!

[teppis]

Please continue

[WillCasey]

I'm glad this story has a happy ending...

I like happy endings.

Next installment please.

[british_boy]

"Please," I said to the secutity guard, willing him to find some human kindness. "I need to find my girlfriend. I need to use the payphone."
"Pay phone in Arrivals," he snapped.
"Yes, in Arrivals. Exactly. Can I go back in?"
"No, you go to Arrivals."
"But this IS Arrivals; I've just arrived."
But even as I said it, I realised something. Nobody was waiting or meeting here. It was just a noisy taxi rank and exit point. The security guard indicated a ramp across the road, which seemed to lead to a lower level. "Arrivals," he said slowly, as if speaking to an idiot. "There."

The doubt and despair fell away, I grabbed my bags, and with a renewed sense of urgency I darted across the road. Who knew that Manila was the only airport in existance where Arrivals is not actually in Arrivals? I emerged into the sub level to a crowd of hundreds; entire families waiting for returning husbands and fathers. I glanced around but couldn't see her. Was I too late? I'd told her eleven, and it was already pushing midninght. Then I saw lettered signs: A B C; D E F; G H I. Jesus, it was so chaotic here that people had to wait in alphabetical order. Assuming these were the first letters of passengers' surnames, I made for the later letters. With my eyes scanning this sea of people like the Terminator's, I suddenly heard my name cut through the fog of humidity and fatigue. I turned, and suddenly she was there. No make-up, just her bobbed black hair pushed back; yellow t-shirt, blue jeans and flip flops. She was beautiful. Like a wave, the relief swept over me, and washed away all the worry and doubt, and I could see it in her face too. The hour before arriving at the hotel is a series of images now: Her smile; her embrace; her soft cheek; her hailing taxi in Tagalog; us holding hands in the back; her head on my shoulder; the coconut scent of her hair.

"You're shaking," she said.

[british_boy]

Finally alone in a hotel room in Mandaluyong district, we fell into the bed. Agatha's ordered me not to go into details, but as I look through the posts here, I see that a lot of your fantasies, as well as mine, were fulfilled on just that first night. Over the next ten days we did it all - much of which Agatha had never done before with small-minded local exes - and years of low libido evaporated into the sutry Manila air. Most of all we fell in love, and leaving her was one of the most sorrowful moments of my life. Not a day goes by now when we don't chat on Skype, and we're meeting up again at Christmas. I'm counting the days.

I posted this very personal story on the request of the 'Grand Shemale Lover' in return for a favour, and I know that a lot of you guys will have found it too sentimental, or lacking in saucy details. I'm sorry about that. But maybe, just maybe, my story might inspire one or two of you to go out on a limb and make it real. After all, I'm just a normal bloke who took a risk for once in my life.

It might also show you that t-girls aren't just sex objects, but real, beautiful, lovely, sexy girls, and that if you get beyond society's prejudice, you could find yourself an amazing partner; perhaps for life. The good news is that they're looking for guys just like you!

And, when all's said on done, what are we all here for?

[penperf1]

nice story, beautiful girl