Fifteen

Back to Commitments, obligations and the cable company...1

Author's note: These chapters are NOT stand-alones...The story starts here.

Commitments, obligations and the cable company...2

Damn, I sure as hell wasn’t expecting to hear that. This is not the time or place to deal with the ramifications of the news. And, in any case, in truth, I am sort of… flabbergasted. Yeh, I am not sure I have ever used that word before in my entire life, but it fits right now. No other word comes close. The one word that I am absolutely not is bemused.

All I can do is shake my head in disbelief and suggest we all climb into the van.

The last time I drove into GenSan from the airport it seemed exotic, strange, and maybe a little desolate. In a way it hasn’t changed at all. But I have. I am seeing it through different eyes now. I am sure that even this way of seeing it, as I do today, will change anew over time.

Will it change over time? That I surely can’t know, but I know now that how I am seeing it changes as I get to know it, little by little.

The girls want to know what I have brought back for them. This concept of bringing gifts, as I learned in my brief time here before, is deeply embedded in the culture. Even folks who can barely rub two pesos together somehow find something they can bring, even if it is a coconut or papaya from a tree near their hut. It doesn’t matter how small, you bring something.

I brought each of them a Boston Red Sox ballcap and shirt, a bag of chocolates, and some maple candy. Of the last, I am sure they have never tasted maple before. I hope they like it.

I playfully chide them. You will just have to wait until we get home.

Lyn is sitting next to me on one side. Jana is on the other. Both lean into me and say not a single word. I gather what they are feeling is relief.

In more than a small way, I feel relief too. It’s odd, I guess. I was not on these islands for even twenty-one days last time. Still, it feels like a homecoming. It shouldn’t.

Dorchester should feel like home. But from the moment I put the house up for sale, it is like a switch was flipped in my heart. And when the house was empty, following the discarding of things and the movers who put the rest in crates and packed it all into a cargo container, I felt much like one does when in a place where one really doesn’t belong. A place you stay at via a hotel room and restaurants. A place that is not yours.

At that moment my heart, even more than before, yearned to return to this leased home in City Heights, GenSan. A home in a city with beggars, and crappy streets, and little infrastructure … and my seven girls.

And now I am back. These seven girls surround me. Two lean against me. One is beaming with pregnant pride. All are happy. I am happy.

There are things I need to do, but all can wait a day or two. This is a Tuesday evening, so nothing more is going to get done today. Tomorrow I will just hang out and absorb that which the girls want to tell me. I suspect they are saving a few things up in that regard.

I slept well on the flight from the USA and feel fine and rested. My internal clock is half a world off, as I am thirteen time zones from where I started in Boston, so this should, by all rights, be morning.

I am not ready to sleep again, and though the girls would normally want to go to bed in just a few hours, I suspect they will want to stay up for a while yet tonight.

I am right. It is now 1AM and everyone is still awake. I, incredibly enough, am the one who needs to call it a night. That brings forth the question of whom I will bed tonight.

A suggestion that we reprise the last night we were all together is shot down my Lyn, barely a second before I am able to do the same.

I announce that the three youngest, based on the activity last time, are not to enter my bed again until I am ready to really bed them. I see downcast faces. What they don’t know is that I have been ruminating about this issue since May dropped her little truth on me earlier. And so, to those downcast faces, I offer, And for the two of you who are now 14, that will be yet this month. And for you, Katrina, that means this July. … Does one of you not want to enter my bed?

Between giggles, I am informed that there will be no one seeking a stay of the action.

Why did I decide it? First, I bedded Lexi when she was 15. These girls are 14, only one year younger. Clearly, I have not injured May. Also, clearly, this is what they want and it is going to happen, this year or next year. The age of consent is twelve and the parents seem OK with it. So, I guess, as Jana has said, I should be evil.

The decision is made, but not tonight.

Lexi is pregnant. I want to be with her but, as her ticket has already been punched, I see no reason why she should be in my bed tonight.

I pull Jana to me and whisper in her ear, Will tomorrow night be OK?

Her answer, after an enthusiastic kiss, is to tell me, Yes, tomorrow is perfect.

OK then tonight it is Lyn and Mel. Lexi, you need to allow your sister to catch up with you!

That gets her laughing and if there was to be tension, it is gone now.

Climbing the two flights to my bedroom is that last leg of the journey. I enter the bedroom and realize that I am … home. It is done. And with that realization comes exhaustion. I need a shower and sleep.

Nineteen-year-old Lyn will turn twenty this summer and she is the oldest girl here. In the USA a nineteen-year-old is basically wet behind the ears and yet to learn about life. Such a kid is only learning to cook, if that process has even started. Such a kid has never washed any clothing by hand and barely knows how to operate a washing machine.

But here, by now Lyn and Mel are accomplished cooks. They have been cooking for years. They have never used a washing machine. They may have seen such things at the mall, but I wouldn’t bet on it.

Both of them have been washing clothing by hand for at least ten years. They sit on the floor or ground with a big plastic tub, a bristle brush and a bar of laundry soap. Since they moved in with me they have been using Surf bars, though there are other brands at the stores.

There is no housekeeping duty with which they are unskilled at handling. But both, it seems, cared enough to study and learn English. Not all do, and many here really can’t speak any English. My initial concern about language when sitting at the Mermaid Bar and Grill was warranted. And the claim of the guy in the BVI that they all knew English was pure crap.

I actually need the girls to operate as interpreters on occasion. Not everywhere… no, not at the bookstore, not when I stopped by Immigration last time, and not at the bank.

My girls are far from the only ones who can speak my tongue, but the average Juan on the street isn’t able at all.

I suspect that English was required to get a job at the Sydney Hotel. Still, more can’t speak English than can. And so as I slide between my two English speaking young lovelies, it occurs to me that being home means being with them. At that moment I pull both close to me. I need to feel their flesh against mine.

They are happy to be held, though they may have misunderstood my intensions. Mel has hold of my package and Lyn is nibbling my ear.

I thought I was too tired, but as Mel and Lyn continue, I am having a change of heart as well as a firmer take on the situation. In the intervening months I have not even been touched in an amorous manner. It isn’t that I have been rejected by anyone, I haven’t. I just didn’t seek any such contact out and no one there was seeking me.

Could I have done so? Sure, I guess so. It didn’t occur to me. Might it have? I don’t know. In a way, I suspect it would have felt like cheating.

I know that sounds weird seeing as how there are seven girls here. But here they know each other. Here we do things as an ‘us.’ We are a cohesive group. We have an economic connection with each other and with each other’s welfare.

If I was to be with someone outside the group, that doesn’t feel OK to me. Is that nuts?

For whatever it is worth, being with Lyn and Mel is the antithesis of cheating. It is part and parcel of ‘us.’

Lyn’s lips are on mine now. Mel’s lips are warming up my rigid cock and her hands cradle my balls and stroke the lower reaches on my member. I am on my back and simply enjoying all of it.

I reach out to fondle one of Lyn’s breasts. They are small with rock hard nipples the size of small pebbles. Lyn bites down on my lower lip. I think she likes having her tits played with.

Mel is mounting me from above. Her hot, tight, and juicy cunt slides slowly over my cock. It is a tight fit and Mel is making the most of it as we both savor the friction.

I squeeze Lyn’s tit quite hard. She bites my lip harder. Mel is bone to bone with me. I squeeze Lyn’s tit harder and the girl releases my lip as she gasps. Mel backs out partially and slams down hard.

I roll Mel over and start pounding her cunt. Reaching out, I grab one of Lyn’s legs, pulling her in closer to my side before shoving a thumb up her cunt and snaking a finger toward her ass.

Lyn bucks her hips up, tensing her ass cheeks, making my entry there harder but allowing my thumb deep penetration into her cunt. Her legs open wide to allow even more penetration but, in her doing so, my finger now penetrates her ass. Another gasp.

Mel is bucking beneath me. It’s not me that has her animated as much as it is her desire to carry a child, like her sister now carries. Children were not part of my plan, but they are the natural outcome of this life here. That became apparent as soon as I committed to these girls.

They are Catholic. I am Catholic. This is a Catholic country. Birth control will be hard to get, frowned upon by most, and children are seen as desirable. I knew that based on the demographics alone. I am not going to feign a silly, ‘what have I gotten into’ song. No, I knew. Do I have an overwhelming desire for more progeny? No. Does that matter? No. So, I am not going to argue with nature. These girls will get pregnant.

As it is, Mel is well on her way to receiving some cum. And though no one has received cum from me for months, there clearly is no assurance that she will get pregnant tonight. All this is, is a tip of the hat to her desire.

Lyn will have to be satisfied with manual stimulation for the evening, because I have nothing more to give.

Well she is and she isn’t. After I roll off Mel, Lyn rolls on me and tells me she has me in the morning, no if’s ands or buts allowed. Yep, I am home.

The morning comes with Mel getting out of bed first. She is probably going to get breakfast ready. Lyn remains here with me and after trips to the toilet for both of us, we are back in bed, with my sweet girl snuggled up against my side with an arm holding her tight.

Everything done there?

Yes. Everything.

You going back again?

No.

You sure?

Yes, why?

We not like it. Stay please.

I am staying.

I know you say it. But it scary. Truly.

I understand.

You really going to do sex with the young ones?

It seems I already have with May, right?

Yes. You will do it again?

Why are you asking?

They will be pregnant. True?

Maybe, Lyn. So are you saying I should not bed them?

Maybe. This hard. I am not sure.

Do you want to talk to their mothers?

Ha! No, Craig. They will say it OK.

So? What are you worried about?

How they finish school?

I don’t know. What are the options?

I not know. Maybe nothing.

I see. Well, it wasn’t going to happen tomorrow, so maybe I need to talk with them. It is their future.

OK. Thank you.

I smile. She is thanking me for being willing to talk to fourteen-year-olds about if they want to get pregnant or stay in school. It’s sort of nuts.

You’re welcome. Now, why are we still in bed?

Making love with Lyn is, at once, effortless, and intense. Effortless to the extent that there is no mystery, no missteps, or misunderstood cues. Our communication is seamless. Things just happen without awkwardness. Intense to the extent that it is with real meaning. This is not the casual sex of a hookup. This is important. It is filled with the subtext of the commitments and obligations that bind us together. Her commitment to be truly mine, not just for now, but for the long haul. My obligation to do right by her, to not leave her, to protect her and allow her to live without worry of where the rice will come from.

My cock is well and truly deep in her cunt. It is not an intrusion. It is exactly where Lyn wants it, now and forever. I will grow old, she may lose her looks, but we are bound together. If I need a new pretty one, I can have one, but this commitment and these obligations must remain.

No one has professed love. Will love exist? I suspect it will. To these girls, love is essential to any justification for what I am doing and what they have committed to. That I have not heard the words yet is, in some ways, surprising.

What is Lyn thinking right now as we rut away this morning? I can only guess and the guess will be most certainly be wrong. What I am sure of is that Lyn is as attached to me as it is possible to be.

I could well turn out to be a first class ass and it really wouldn’t matter. I am hers and she, right along with the other six, is mine. That she will never complain that there are the other six is a testament to economics and aspirational logic.

Lyn’s body is hungry for the power of this act. She is not tiring. She is committed in a way that calls on my body to respond, to match her intensity of need with my intensity of desire.

Her small, slight frame takes all I have to give and calls for more. Her cunt is more than slick with secretions, it is awash with her own fluids. Her muscles demand my attention. Beads of perspiration on her upper lip glisten. Her breath is ragged, her eyes so wide open as they stare at me.

And yet, though we have been going at it (for how long now?) her cunt is tight and hot. This is not playtime. This, for all the passion, is honest and real. I see it in her countenance, I feel it as we fulfill this ancient ritual. And finally, as my cum enters her, there is transmitted the biological commitment that, should things come to pass as they might, a child may well spring forth from our efforts. And should that happen, neither of us will regret it.

In the very short time I have known Lyn, she has not lied to me once. She has not played any games. She has not deceived me. She has been honest in all her dealings and reliable as a mate.

I could never have said the same for my wife even for one week of our life, from the first date on until the divorce. I could never say the same for any woman I have been with prior to my coming to these islands.

Are there bad women here? Yes, certainly, and Lyn has warned me about them. But neither Lyn, nor Jana, nor Lexi has given me a moment whereby I have had to check myself. With Mel, it is complicated, mostly around the issues of her mother, and while I understand it, it does put her outside the golden circle of the other three.

As to the youngest three, May did take advantage in a way that has caused me real regret, but they have never lied.

In all this, I have never in my life known such honesty and commitment, without at a base level questioning it and wondering what was hidden. I don’t think anything is hidden with these girls.

It is, as I keep on reminding myself, a matter of need, of economics. But it is also real.

Might that change? Yes, as they complete their education and advance to a place where a profession is possible (something that was previously not possible for them), they will no longer have the economic need to hew to me. Will they? That is unclear. It may be that I will have to add new girls whose economic condition mirrors these girls now to maintain what I have now with these seven. Only time will tell.

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Commitments, obligations and the cable company...3