Sunday, September 26, 2004

Out Of Nothing At All

I miss making love.

It has been months since that last real one. He had this very small farm in Tagaytay, somewhere after the palengke. It had rows and rows of Italian eggplant which they supply to restaurants in Makati. We met exactly a year before.

After turning off the main highway, you have to pass through several subdivisions. The road gets smaller then bumpier, until you reach their gate. Once inside, if it was around five o'clock, you are greeted by a great red sky. The view of the sunset is breathtaking.

And infinitely romantic.

After you settle down in this small shed, you notice the cool breeze. From there, you can watch the farm slope down the side of the hill. And beyond that, the great land of Cavite and Laguna. I have always loved the feeling of the wind in between my legs. (I almost always wear a skirt.)

A chilled bottle of champange pops out of nowhere, and there is chitchat. I take out my Marlboro Lights and he offers a me a light. How obvious, and I enjoy it. We kiss, drink, puff, talk, and rub each other. Foreplay until the mosquitos start biting.

Down the slope, he says, we have a small house.

In the dying light, we tumble down the rows of eggplants. He is holding my hand. He is such a nice date, for a man. I remain surprised. I also date women, more often now, but some guys still catch me off-guard and I let myself go with the flow.

The small house is a rest house, with basic everything. It reminds me of the condo I had before at Citiland. Bed, kitchenette, bathroom, aircon. The bed has a thin styrofoam cushion. While naked, he recites a sonnet which he memorized. Cute. It is his first time to have sex.

I still remember the musty, dirty smell of the room fighting with the laundry soap smell of the new sheets. The hum of the aircon, the kuliglig, the distant bark of dogs. The musk of his sweaty, 23-year old body.

When we came out later, heady, rested, intimate, with slightly crumpled shirts, we were greeted by the full moon. We went up safely, guided by the unusual brightness.

He drove me home, the moon following us.