A short stroll down the jetty took him to the floating restaurant in the harbour where Manila's top movers and shakers habitually gathered. Having secured the best table, one that afforded an unrestricted view of the entire vessel, Tino rose in greeting. The lawyer offered grave condolences and a firm handshake, enquiring how Matthew was bearing up. He was lonesome, he conceded, though not on account of his father.Immediately, a waiter materialised with a frosted glass to be quickly filed with a chiled bottle of San Miguel. The night balmy and humid, Matthew supped gratefully whilst perusing the menu. Despite the heat, he chose a starter of nilagang soup, with Tino electing to join him. For the main course, Tino plumped for crispy pata, a dish of deep fried pork knuckle. Patting his midriff a little guiltily in its wake the lawyer dabbed at the sides of his mouth with a napkin. Matthew stuck to his favourite Filipino dish, alimango, a steamed crab delicacy that was far more. I work at them as you undo your belt. I slip the shirt off your shoulders, and run my hands over your chest and down your abdomen to the waist band of your trousers. I undo the button, and ease the fly down to reveal your erection. I gently push your trousers down over your hips and I marvel at your wonderful body. We both are well into middle age, yet when we are together, we feel like teenagers, and the ravages of time have no effect on the way we feel about each other, or the way we want each other.You tenderly pull my panties over my hips and I lift them so you can remove them all together. The crotch is damp and you finger it, before you lay them aside. Your eyes are on me with such intensity, such love. I blush under your gaze, and it warms me more than the fire. You massage my mound with your hand, and I wantonly spread my legs in silent invitation that is only for you. Your finger slips between my fleshy labia, and like a homing missile, finds the hub of my desire, pulsing.
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