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If you’re here after reading part 1, you’re probably dying to know if I got pulled into the literal mess in the shower room. The answer is no. I didn’t. But what happened in the weeks after… that was a whole different kind of mess.
Monday came and the office felt deceptively normal. K was at her station, same as always. Me? I couldn’t even look at her the same way. Inside my head, I was tearing her apart. “How could she let two guys use her like that? Doesn’t she have any self-respect?” I felt so superior. Like, “I’m not like her. I’m better. Smarter. I have standards.” Famous last words.
Ate quickly became my anchor after that weekend. She was in her late 30s, warm, protective, like the big sister I never had. She was also super close with R, our 24 year-old teammate. He was tallish (around 5’9”), solidly built, the kind of guy who filled space. I avoided him at first because of the lagkit in his stare whenever it landed on me. But Ate treated us both like her little siblings, so the three of us naturally started moving as a trio. The constant flirting and lingering looks from the other guys stopped. For the first time, I felt… safe.
I started tagging along with Ate and R. I’d join yosi breaks even though I didn’t smoke—just stood there breathing secondhand smoke to stay in the circle. We ate lunch together, sat together during after-work drinking sessions. They became my small, safe bubble.
Graveyard shift call center life was feral back then. Shift ends 6 a.m., and half the team would march straight to the nearest inuman spot. Beer, pulutan, stories until noon. After that some would crash in the office sleeping quarters, others would hookup in the office showers (oo, totoo ‘yan dati kaya nga tinanggal na yung shower don lol), and a few would vanish to a motel with whoever they were feeling that day. It was just how things worked.
Then came the last week of August 2010 board exam results day. I passed. No top-notcher nonsense, but I didn’t care. Relief hit so hard I almost cried at my station. I was finally, officially a nurse. Two weeks left on my call-center contract. My nursing journey was so close I could taste it.
“Tara sa condo sa Sabado?” asked Ate. “Mini despedida mo bago ka umalis.” Just the four of us: Ate, her husband, R, and me. Her place was a five-minute walk from the office, so I said yes without hesitation.
Saturday came and I was at Ate’s place. It was a small studio unit, bed in the far corner by the windows, everything else basically one open space. Living area, dining, kitchenette, all mashed together. Minimal furniture, just a tiny table, a couple of plastic chairs.
For our “mini despedida,” we ended up sitting on the floor in a loose circle. Beer, hard drinks and pulutan laid out on the floor. Ate and her husband on one side, R and me on the other. Music playing low from a Bluetooth speaker, lights dimmed. It felt cozy at first. Innocent.
I never planned to stay over. I just wanted to celebrate passing the boards, have a few drinks, then head home. But the drinks kept flowing, beer became shots, shots became more shots. I was laughing louder than I had in months, feeling light for once. No more waiting for the board exam results. I was a nurse now. I deserved to let loose, right?
R had been extra close the whole time. He sat right next to me, thigh pressed against mine. Every now and then I’d catch him looking at me with this gigil expression, eyes hungry, lips curved in that half-smile guys get when they’re already imagining things. I brushed it off. Told myself it was just the alcohol talking for both of us.
Then it happened.
Mid-laugh over some dumb work story, R suddenly cupped my face with both hands and kissed me. Hard. Not a soft, testing kiss. This was full-on, tongue pushing in like he’d been holding it in for weeks. I froze. Brain screaming push him away, but my body refused to move. My heart was hammering so loud I swear everyone could hear it. He kissed me like he was starving, wet, messy, claiming.
I didn’t kiss back at first. Just sat there, lips parted in shock. Then he pulled my waist towards him, making me gasp into his mouth. I answered the kiss and we continued the laplapan.
Then, I finally broke away, cheeks burning. Ate and her husband were right there. I was still hyper-aware of them watching (or pretending not to). I reached for my glass, tried to act normal.
By around 1 a.m. the booze was gone. Bottles empty, music barely audible. Ate said, “Tulog na tayo. Late na.” She stood, stretched, fixed their bed in the corner. Her husband stripped to boxers. Ate tossed sheets and pillows our way. Gave us a thin mattress pad. “Kayo dito sa floor ha. Comfortable naman ’yan.” So casual, like we were all just crashing after a normal night out.
Ate and her husband were already asleep on their bed in the corner, the room lit by the faint glow of the streetlight outside. R and I were on the floor, under one thin blanket. I was exhausted and just wanted to pass out. But R wasn’t done.
He pulled me towards him and nilaplap na naman ako. His hands were everywhere, one unzipping my jeans, the other gripping my waist like he’d been waiting weeks for this exact moment. I was too buzzed to fight it properly. My body responded even when my brain was screaming “this isn’t you.”
Before I knew it, he slipped my right hand inside his shorts. Holy shit. Rock hard. And big. Sobrang laki. Before I could process anything, I was already stroking him. Slow at first, then faster as he was breathing harder against my neck, whispering “sige pa, ang sarap.” I couldn’t believe I was actually doing this… jacking off a guy on the floor of someone else’s condo while our ‘friends’ slept a few feet away.
Then he said it, low and rough in my ear: “BJ mo ako.”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t say yes. I just… did it.
I went down on my knees between his legs, pulled his shorts down, positioned myself so I could look up and still see his face, then took him in my mouth.
Ang laki talaga ng titi niya, grabe. About 7 inches, with that flared, pronounced glans. My mind raced back to Anatomy and Physiology class and remembered that dicks average around 5 inches globally. But Filipino guys? Studies said closer to 4.3 inches erect. Was this normal variation, or was R just… bigger than average? Either way, it felt huge in my mouth.
He guided me, his hands in my hair, soft instructions: “dahan-dahan… ganun… sige, deeper….” When my teeth grazed, he said “wag mo gamitan ng ngipin..” And I listened. I followed. I sucked the life out of him.
I could hear Ate shifting in her sleep nearby, her husband snoring lightly. The risk of it all made everything feel hotter, dirtier. When he was about to cum, he tighten the grip on my hair and whispered “lalabasan na ako… lunukin mo lahat.”
I didn’t pull away. I swallowed.
All that yabang, all that superiority, all the judgmental thoughts I had for K and everyone else. Gone.
There I was, the Catholic-school girl, top of the class since grade school, cum laude, the pride of my family, newly passed nurse, the one everyone thought was untouchable, on my knees, chumuchupa ng tite at lumulunok ng tamod like it was the most natural thing in the world.
The naive, innocent version of me died somewhere between the first laplapan and the last swallow.
Wait, did I tell you already? R was actually one of the guys who banged with K in the shower room at team building.
should I continue with part 3?
Comment for more stories.
If you’re here after reading part 1, you’re probably dying to know if I got pulled into the literal mess in the shower room. The answer is no. I didn’t. But what happened in the weeks after… that was a whole different kind of mess.
Monday came and the office felt deceptively normal. K was at her station, same as always. Me? I couldn’t even look at her the same way. Inside my head, I was tearing her apart. “How could she let two guys use her like that? Doesn’t she have any self-respect?” I felt so superior. Like, “I’m not like her. I’m better. Smarter. I have standards.” Famous last words.
Ate quickly became my anchor after that weekend. She was in her late 30s, warm, protective, like the big sister I never had. She was also super close with R, our 24 year-old teammate. He was tallish (around 5’9”), solidly built, the kind of guy who filled space. I avoided him at first because of the lagkit in his stare whenever it landed on me. But Ate treated us both like her little siblings, so the three of us naturally started moving as a trio. The constant flirting and lingering looks from the other guys stopped. For the first time, I felt… safe.
I started tagging along with Ate and R. I’d join yosi breaks even though I didn’t smoke—just stood there breathing secondhand smoke to stay in the circle. We ate lunch together, sat together during after-work drinking sessions. They became my small, safe bubble.
Graveyard shift call center life was feral back then. Shift ends 6 a.m., and half the team would march straight to the nearest inuman spot. Beer, pulutan, stories until noon. After that some would crash in the office sleeping quarters, others would hookup in the office showers (oo, totoo ‘yan dati kaya nga tinanggal na yung shower don lol), and a few would vanish to a motel with whoever they were feeling that day. It was just how things worked.
Then came the last week of August 2010 board exam results day. I passed. No top-notcher nonsense, but I didn’t care. Relief hit so hard I almost cried at my station. I was finally, officially a nurse. Two weeks left on my call-center contract. My nursing journey was so close I could taste it.
“Tara sa condo sa Sabado?” asked Ate. “Mini despedida mo bago ka umalis.” Just the four of us: Ate, her husband, R, and me. Her place was a five-minute walk from the office, so I said yes without hesitation.
Saturday came and I was at Ate’s place. It was a small studio unit, bed in the far corner by the windows, everything else basically one open space. Living area, dining, kitchenette, all mashed together. Minimal furniture, just a tiny table, a couple of plastic chairs.
For our “mini despedida,” we ended up sitting on the floor in a loose circle. Beer, hard drinks and pulutan laid out on the floor. Ate and her husband on one side, R and me on the other. Music playing low from a Bluetooth speaker, lights dimmed. It felt cozy at first. Innocent.
I never planned to stay over. I just wanted to celebrate passing the boards, have a few drinks, then head home. But the drinks kept flowing, beer became shots, shots became more shots. I was laughing louder than I had in months, feeling light for once. No more waiting for the board exam results. I was a nurse now. I deserved to let loose, right?
R had been extra close the whole time. He sat right next to me, thigh pressed against mine. Every now and then I’d catch him looking at me with this gigil expression, eyes hungry, lips curved in that half-smile guys get when they’re already imagining things. I brushed it off. Told myself it was just the alcohol talking for both of us.
Then it happened.
Mid-laugh over some dumb work story, R suddenly cupped my face with both hands and kissed me. Hard. Not a soft, testing kiss. This was full-on, tongue pushing in like he’d been holding it in for weeks. I froze. Brain screaming push him away, but my body refused to move. My heart was hammering so loud I swear everyone could hear it. He kissed me like he was starving, wet, messy, claiming.
I didn’t kiss back at first. Just sat there, lips parted in shock. Then he pulled my waist towards him, making me gasp into his mouth. I answered the kiss and we continued the laplapan.
Then, I finally broke away, cheeks burning. Ate and her husband were right there. I was still hyper-aware of them watching (or pretending not to). I reached for my glass, tried to act normal.
By around 1 a.m. the booze was gone. Bottles empty, music barely audible. Ate said, “Tulog na tayo. Late na.” She stood, stretched, fixed their bed in the corner. Her husband stripped to boxers. Ate tossed sheets and pillows our way. Gave us a thin mattress pad. “Kayo dito sa floor ha. Comfortable naman ’yan.” So casual, like we were all just crashing after a normal night out.
Ate and her husband were already asleep on their bed in the corner, the room lit by the faint glow of the streetlight outside. R and I were on the floor, under one thin blanket. I was exhausted and just wanted to pass out. But R wasn’t done.
He pulled me towards him and nilaplap na naman ako. His hands were everywhere, one unzipping my jeans, the other gripping my waist like he’d been waiting weeks for this exact moment. I was too buzzed to fight it properly. My body responded even when my brain was screaming “this isn’t you.”
Before I knew it, he slipped my right hand inside his shorts. Holy shit. Rock hard. And big. Sobrang laki. Before I could process anything, I was already stroking him. Slow at first, then faster as he was breathing harder against my neck, whispering “sige pa, ang sarap.” I couldn’t believe I was actually doing this… jacking off a guy on the floor of someone else’s condo while our ‘friends’ slept a few feet away.
Then he said it, low and rough in my ear: “BJ mo ako.”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t say yes. I just… did it.
I went down on my knees between his legs, pulled his shorts down, positioned myself so I could look up and still see his face, then took him in my mouth.
Ang laki talaga ng titi niya, grabe. About 7 inches, with that flared, pronounced glans. My mind raced back to Anatomy and Physiology class and remembered that dicks average around 5 inches globally. But Filipino guys? Studies said closer to 4.3 inches erect. Was this normal variation, or was R just… bigger than average? Either way, it felt huge in my mouth.
He guided me, his hands in my hair, soft instructions: “dahan-dahan… ganun… sige, deeper….” When my teeth grazed, he said “wag mo gamitan ng ngipin..” And I listened. I followed. I sucked the life out of him.
I could hear Ate shifting in her sleep nearby, her husband snoring lightly. The risk of it all made everything feel hotter, dirtier. When he was about to cum, he tighten the grip on my hair and whispered “lalabasan na ako… lunukin mo lahat.”
I didn’t pull away. I swallowed.
All that yabang, all that superiority, all the judgmental thoughts I had for K and everyone else. Gone.
There I was, the Catholic-school girl, top of the class since grade school, cum laude, the pride of my family, newly passed nurse, the one everyone thought was untouchable, on my knees, chumuchupa ng tite at lumulunok ng tamod like it was the most natural thing in the world.
The naive, innocent version of me died somewhere between the first laplapan and the last swallow.
Wait, did I tell you already? R was actually one of the guys who banged with K in the shower room at team building.
should I continue with part 3?