Hey Ate Charo,
Just call me Mang Domeng, or better yet, stash me in a cardboard box. I used to be a teacher at an elementary school in Manila, but after a few years, I got a special assignment that I fell in love with. They even let me live in my office on campus because of it.
I don't have a wife, but I do have a kid from a past relationship. Let's leave that story for another time—it's a long one.
One afternoon, I decided to find some fun, so I headed to a beer house. Freshly showered, I threw on a tank top and shorts and took the LRT. I found a nice spot to chill, enjoyed a bucket of beer, a plate of peanuts, and some karaoke tokens. Feeling the buzz, I decided to head home.
By the time I left, it was dark and I was tipsy. You know how booze is a downer, right? After the euphoria, it hits you with the blues. So I walked back to my place at the school, feeling a bit down. Just as I was about to open the gate, I heard someone call my name.
"Sir, Bobby?" a girl's voice asked. I squinted to see who it was, and, being tipsy, it took me a moment to recognize her against the light.
"Oh, Czarina, is that you? What batch were you again?" I asked.
"Batch 2016, Sir," she said.
"Oh, five years ago. How old are you now?" I slurred, still drunk.
"I'm turning 17, Sir," she replied.
"So, you're in grade 11?" I asked.
"Yes, Sir," she said.
"Study hard, okay? Don't end up like some of your batchmates—already moms!" I warned her. As I opened the gate, she didn't move, so I asked, "Why are you out so late?"
"Uh, Sir... I left home because my parents were fighting. My mom told me to get out for a while. I saw you leaving earlier but couldn't catch up, so I waited by the school," she explained.
"I can't let you in. If someone sees us, I'm in deep trouble. They'll say it's corruption of a minor."
"Please, Sir! Let me stay until early morning. I have nowhere else to go," she pleaded.
After much begging, I finally gave in. Better to have her safe here than wandering around.
I made sure no one saw us as we sneaked into the school. I had all the keys and took a narrow path to avoid detection. We entered through a small alley that's usually used for trash disposal. Luckily, it was clear. My room was just a few meters away, a tiny, maybe 2.5-square-meter space under the stairs. It had a half-horsepower air conditioner, a wardrobe, and a mattress on the floor with a carpet underneath.
"Here, it's small, but you can sit there. If you want to sleep, there's a blanket," I said, handing her a freshly washed one.
She asked where I would sleep, and I told her I'd set up outside on the table.
"It's fine, just for tonight," I assured her.
"Have you eaten?" I asked before heading out.
"Yes, Sir, I ate before I left home."
I went outside to set up my sleeping area but returned to tell her to close the door so no animals would get in. Instead, I blurted out, "If you need anything, let me know. Anything at all. Don't be shy. Got it?"
"Okay, Sir," she replied.
As I turned to leave, she asked, "Anything, Sir?"
I turned back. "Yes, anything I can help with."
"I want to try sex, Sir. I want us to have sex," she said, hesitant but determined.
I was stunned, my eyes squinting in disbelief. "What are you saying?"
"You said anything, Sir. You did," she insisted.
I walked closer, saying, "Sex? Do you even understand what you're asking for?"
"Just forget it, Sir," she said.
"Get a boyfriend. I could go to jail for life if I touch you," I said, sobering up from her words.
"I don't want someone my age; they might spread it around or take a video. But you wouldn't hurt me, right? Sir?" she pleaded.
I listened, understanding her fears but also weighing the risks. She was almost 17, a beautiful girl, not so innocent anymore. But if I took her virginity, she might bleed, swell up, or be unable to go home the next day. Her family would notice, and the blame would fall on me. Young girls can't keep secrets.
We both stayed silent, contemplating. Then, I thought, this is a rare opportunity. The prey is coming to the hunter. So, I decided to play along.
"Okay, let's make it a game," I said, adding some excitement and surprise.
"I won't just jump you. You need to be sure," I continued. "You have choices. You want this, and I do too. It's a vicious circle, but anyway..."
"Here's the plan. I'll leave to shower. When I come back, if you're ready, squeeze my hand. Then, take off something to show me where you want me to start. Got it?"
She looked confused. "I don't get it, Sir."
"Okay, okay. How about this: Squeeze my hand if you really want something to happen," I said, still tipsy. She squeezed it.
"Good! So you want this?" I asked. She nodded.
"Alright, when I come back, one of your underwear should be off. If it's your bra, I'll start there. If it's your panties, I'll go down there. Got it?" She nodded again.
Like a curious kid, she might ask, "What if it's both, Sir?" So I clarified.
"If it's your bra, I'll play with your breasts. If it's your panties, I'll go down on you," I explained.
I left to shower, leaving her to decide.