Reylan wasn’t from Cebu, but he’d heard stories. Fresh off the plane from Davao, he was ready to explore more than just the city’s famous lechon and beaches. His buddy Carlo, a long-time local, insisted they grab drinks in Fuente. After a few rounds, Carlo leaned in and whispered, “You want to see the real Cebu?”
They hopped on an Angkas and found themselves weaving through narrow streets until they reached a dimly lit spa on Mandaue’s outskirts. The sign above read Massage and Spa, but it was barely noticeable under flickering fluorescent lights.
The front desk had an air of casual discretion, with a middle-aged lady greeting them as though she already knew why they were there. Carlo handled the arrangements, opting for a VIP room for Reylan—“first-timer treatment,” he joked.
Inside, the room was basic but clean. A curtained divider separated it from the next room. Reylan could hear muffled laughter and faint music in the background. A petite woman named Aya, with long, straight hair and a shy smile, walked in and introduced herself.
The massage started as expected—Aya’s hands were firm yet gentle, working on Reylan’s back with skill. They exchanged small talk, mostly about his travels and Cebu’s weather. But soon, Aya’s tone softened, and her hands lingered longer on certain areas. She leaned in and whispered, “Sir, would you like extra services?”
Caught off guard but intrigued, Reylan hesitated. Aya smiled knowingly, saying, “Don’t worry, we’re discreet here.” The negotiation was quick—₱1,000 for a handjob, ₱1,500 if he wanted more touching and caressing on genitals and breasts. Reylan opted for the full package.
Aya dimmed the lights, pulled the curtain shut, and set her phone to soft music. She undid her blouse, revealing her large boobs and a figure that Reylan couldn’t help but admire. She guided his hands to her waist, encouraging him to touch further while she expertly worked her handjob.
As the session ended, Aya offered a warm towel and a shy smile. “Next time, ask for me,” she said, slipping a small card with her name on it into his hand.
Reylan left the building feeling a mix of relaxation and exhilaration. Carlo, waiting outside with a cigarette, smirked. “Told you Cebu has its secrets,” he said.
For Reylan, it wasn’t just the massage—it was a glimpse into a side of the city that wasn’t in any tourist guidebook.
Mike m. luster 