I Saw You Fell - "Angels Of Bataan"

CHAPTER 3

There's so much late-night traffic in the lobby of the Manila hotel that they have extra desk clerks just to check in the people who've suddenly developed the urge to experience the "finest living in Asia."

I'd gotten my room key before going over to the Santa Ana. So, I handed my supercharged Mercedes SSK 710 roadster off to the valet and breezed across the lobby to the lift. Our passing turned heads. I was an object of envy for every straight male and a few of the more questionable females.

Men are sighthounds by nature, and Margarita is not a woman we can ignore. You stare at that fabulous heart-shaped ass and those perfect tits, and you get that little twinge. It's no doubt genetic, tied to our survival as a species. And yes, I agree ... No woman would mate with us if they knew what was happening in our primitive little brains.

Our room was expensive, even by Manila Hotel standards, bayside view with tall French doors leading to a substantial balcony and a massive bed. I'd played my hand masterfully to this point, and I wasn't going to blow it at this stage by grabbing her and ripping off her expensive evening gown. These things take patience and class.

So, I smiled and said, "I have some bubbly chilling on the veranda, darling. Shall we take a glass?" She acknowledged the gambit with a sultry, secret smile that told me, "Well played!"

Manila Bay was as romantic as ever, dotted with ships and with a silvery moon cutting across it. I could see the lights on the far-off Bataan peninsula and Corregidor at the mouth of the bay. I popped, poured, and handed her a flute. She was looking at me with her mystical dark eyes shining.

The breeze was fragrant with hibiscus as the gentle onshore breeze ruffled the lace curtains. The humidity was down, and the night was warm and embracing. Naturally, there were ship noises immediately in front of us and the sound of traffic on Dewey Boulevard behind us. But it was calm and peaceful up there on our balcony.

Margarita's stunning beauty begins with her perfectly proportioned oval face. But the depth of her huge dark eyes promotes her attractiveness from something merely special to extraordinary. Those eyes were looking at me with an equal measure of appraisal and desire. It was like she'd made a preliminary decision, but there was something she needed to find out before she made it permanent.

We were standing side-by-side, leaning on the railing, sipping our drink, when she took my flute and set it next to hers. Then she put her hands on my arms and turned me fully toward her. She was ready. The waiting game had paid off.

She grabbed the back of my head and pulled me down for a scorching kiss. She moaned, her mouth opened like a flower, and we exchanged probing tongues. That should have been the point where I grabbed her by one butt cheek and a tantalizing melon and carried her off to bed.

But then again - that was what she expected. So, I put my arms around her and gently pulled her to me. My left hand was decorously at her waist, and my right hand was on the skin of her bare back. Then I bent her over in a kiss like something out of a romantic storybook.

She hesitated, confused for a second. Then she made a slight noise and began to kiss back enthusiastically. It was finally time for the endgame. I took Margarita's hand and led her gently toward the bed. She looked a little dazed - good!

I stopped beside the bed and stared directly into her deep dark eyes. She was looking back as I gently unzipped her gown. It was like gazing into the eyes of a hungry tiger. Unspeakable forces were about to be unleashed.

I already knew that Margarita was wearing nothing but a thin pair of panties and a garter belt. Very little material was in the front of her dress, and the entire back was missing. But the sight that was revealed as her dress fell to the floor was something I'll never forget.