Central Park Condo (Part 2)
* Paalala: Ang kwento pong ito ay isinulat ng aking kapit-bahay na lalaki at may konsento po akong ibahagi po ito sa inyong lahat. Pagpasensyahan nyo na po kung Ingles, medyo conyo kasi yun. Di bale... ang mga susunod ko pong ipo-post pagkatapos nito ay Tagalog at siguradong ako po ang sumulat. Sensya napo ulet.
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CENTRAL PARK CONDO
Part Two
by Emil
"Sorry, no can do," said the stiff and adamant lady from behind her desk to the decent-looking man in front of her asking permission to take his refrigerator to the repairs. "I told you over and over again," she said, "that you have to ask your landlord to report to me first before I issue your gate pass." Her name is Mila Suarez – property manager of a condo building called Central Park. His name is John – a tenant on the 7th floor who rents his pad from a unit owner who lives in Bacolod.
"But that's impossible, Ma'am," John said, "the unit owner is bed-ridden and could not make a trip. And I have to bring my fridge to the repair shop to have it fixed. It's my fridge anyway and not the unit owner's. Couldn't I just show you the receipt where I purchased the fridge to prove it's mine? Please, Ms. Mila, I really have to bring it to the shop before the warranty expires."
"You people can't understand simple rules," bellowed Mila, "All unit rooms must be free of all pending debts to this office before we issue gate passes to tenants living there. Your landlord has an outstanding balance of P40,000. If you can produce that money, I'll issue your gate pass.
John looked saddened and disappointed. Just because the unit owner of his pad failed to pay association dues for the past few years, he can't even move any of his belongings. How is he suppose to move to Sta. Rosa then? He had been assigned there by his company to supervise their Laguna factory. But he can't even move there. Which means he must commute everyday back and forth between Pasay and Sta. Rosa. Which means he has to wake up early and sleep late. Which means all his salary would just be spent on transportation. Which means he wouldn't be able to save enough money to get married to his long-time fiancé, Sarah. All because his landlord and the family of his landlord have not time to attend to his request for money to pay his landlord's debts. The timing is inappropriate because of the family's current crisis. His landlord, apparently, is dying.
Mila is a stone-hearted executive. No consideration and no sympathy. She doesn't give in to tenants who mostly, through the years, have abused her office, even prior to her term. No, she's been hired by the developer of the condo to be strong and impose rules with an iron hand. That's her job. But maybe this time, an exception seems to look. John is very good looking. He is tall and very well-built. Women, even one as unyielding as Mila, could not help but fold. That is John's secret weapon. His looks. He sees Mila eyeing him differently and he knows she has the hots for him. He decides to stoop that low and give it a shot.
"Well thank's anyway, Ma'am," John said, "I have to go to work now, I'm late. If there's anything else I need to do, anything at all, just let me know. There's gotta be something." John was trying to give Mila a hidden message without sounding lewd. "I'll be back from work around 5:00 pm. You can drop by if something comes up."
Mila looked at John strongly as if she was unmoved. But deep inside, her bones were tingling with malicious reverberations.
--
It's Friday night in the condo. Mila had long since been gone from her office in the first floor of the building. No one knows where she could have gone. Not even her staff knew.
Ten floors up, Marc stares naked and dripping in front of his mirror. He just got home and took a quick shower before heading off with his officemates to go bar hopping. He stood there alone admiring his own magnificent body glittering with tiny droplets gliding to every curve of his muscles. He smiled. It's not everyday he gets to walk around naked around the house. But since his roommate Jasper had already gone out, he takes the opportunity to indulge in his little fantasy. While trying to put on some cologne he just realized he left his cellphone back in the office. He couldn't live without his cellphone. He didn't know what else to do but call his friends who were still at the office to go get his cellphone from his desk and bring it later. But how could he? He has no landline as well.
He wrapped a white towel around his waist and went next door to try and use his neighbor Buddy's landline to call the office. There was no answer in the door. Buddy must be out. What is he going to do now? As he stood there ringing the doorbell nextdoor, he noticed the door of the unit not too far away to be opened. Hesitating at first, he went there to try and ask to use their phone. As he got there, he was shocked to see about 5 or 6 school girls inside, looking at him as equally shocked as he was. He then realized he was jus wearing a towel around his waist. He was embarrassed at first until she noticed the girls' shocks slowly turned into grins and controlled giggles.
"Excuse me," he began, "can I use your phone. It's kind of an emergency."
"Ummm okay," said one of them – Ayen – who guided him to that corner of the living room where the phone was. She had a kind of uncertain nervousness about her so she didn't close the door when Marc got in. Still, the other girls were quietly looking at him and each other with a grinning smile and lip-biting gestures as if saying, "My God who is this hunk? It must be our lucky day!"
Marc picked up the phone and started dialing while bending over. The phone stand was very low and he has to bend over to dial it. He was offered by one of the grinning girls to sit down in her place but he said it was okay. He couldn't possibly sit down without exposing much of his upper thighs, the towel wasn't that long. As he was waiting for someone to pick up the phone on the other end of the line, He couldn't help but glance occasionally around. "Damn these kids are hot," he thought. It's not like him to get an erection easily but this time, because of the situation, he started, slowly however, to develop that dreaded hard-on. He tried to control it from growing but he only managed to just a bit. That lump in front of him started to become a bit obvious. Thank God, someone answered the phone and he was able to finish the call. Thanking Ayen for the use, he graciously rushed out of there and escape a potentially more embarrassing situation. Two of the girls even teasingly said, "Bye" as he got out the unit. As he was walking towards the direction of his own unit, he didn't hear the door close behind him. He could have sworn the girls were peeping out their door and giggling at him. He turned around, saw a few heads get back in, followed by loud girlie laughs. What could be more embarrassing than that?
--
The next day, while Marc was getting back from lunch to his condo unit, he passed by the door to the unit where he virtually gave young schoolgirls a surprise bachelorette show. The very thought made him squint and kick with embarrassment. Little did he know that, inside that door, Ayen was on the phone giggling and chatting with her classmate, Carla, on the phone who didn't make it to last night's sleep-over.
"My God, you should have been here, Carla," Ayen said, "we had a real blast. We had a really nice time." Ayen then went on telling Carla about how they tried different clothes and make-up, played video games, ordered in pizza, and many more. "Did you get the pictures I sent your phone?" Ayen continued.
"Yeah," said Carla on the other end, "But who is this guy in the towel? Don't tell me you guys hired a macho dancer, you horny biatch."
Ayen laughed then related the whole incident, occasionally tossing and turning around her seat as if trying to contain her excitement in telling the story.
[ to be continued ]