Fifteen

Back to Commitments, obligations and the cable company...5

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

Commitments, obligations and the cable company...6

I need to find if I have a mailing address, so the next stop is the post office. It turns out that it is also not too far away. I go in with Lyn. Jana stays with the bikes as our security guard.

My request causes a bit of confusion. We are eventually brought up to the second floor where I meet the postmaster. He seems like a nice enough fella. Lyn and I field a number of questions, I show him the lease agreement and, after a few minutes, he writes down on a scrap of paper what amounts to an address.

It’s a little odd, as it references a landmark, the color of our roof and the number of floors of the house, but I guess it will work.

Next stop is the attorney’s office. While I want to use the birth certificates we have for the LTO, I ask if he can get started with photocopies of authenticated ones. He can, and so after delivering the copies to him, I think I am almost done for the day.

Tomorrow, the girls will go to the LTO, armed with the NSO documents and permission letters, and they will hopefully each receive a student driving permit.

But today, I have almost done all I can do. We ride three abreast all the way back to the house. The last thing on the list is to text the mail address back to Boston. I would love to see their faces when they see the actual address.

With Noika’s keypad… and one line at a time, it takes a while to tap out the message. But, the address needs a bit of setup. At least I think it does, and so what I send is:

OK, here is the address. I know it looks weird, but I got it from the local postmaster.
Line 1: Craig Byrne
Line 2: Three story house / Red roof / Near Horizon Spa
Line 3: City Heights, General Santos City 9500
Line 4: Philippines
Please text me if there are any issues.

And with that done, my tasks for the day are complete. I know that the recipient of the text will be asleep. I just hope they don’t sleep with the phone next to them.

Tomorrow I get the day off, though the girls will be busy with the LTO.

As to who I will be with tonight, I have not even considered it. All four have been bedded in the past two nights and I am looking forward to the possibility of a quiet night.

Craig?

Yes? What is it, Lyn?

The mothers, they come over now.

What mothers?

The girl’s mothers. Why you not know?

Huh?

Katina, Jocelyn and May. The mothers!

Oh! OK, why?

Home study! You ask them. Remember? I text them. They coming now. They want to talk.

OK, so talk to them, Lyn. They don’t have any English, so I can’t talk to them anyway.

No, Craig, you must do it. They have some English. You are wrong. They just shy before. We will translate if it needed.

You know that will not work. I will say two words and then you will be talking for an hour. Just tell me how it all works out.

No! This important. You must do it.

OK, OK.

Having received my acquiescence, Lyn departs to await the three visitors. This will be a farce.

I will be standing, or sitting there, and they will be jabbering away saying God knows what. But it appears that my presence is required regardless of the reality. We went through this on the street in front of the high school that first day. We didn’t say anything to each other when they came here that night. This won’t be any different, now.

We haven’t eaten dinner yet and I wonder how long this is going to take. I am in for another lesson in Filipino culture. Yes, they are coming to talk, but first they and their families are coming for supper. The three women, the one husband, and all the kids. They are all here. My three are having a blast with their younger siblings.

Mel, Jana, Lexi and Lyn are busy in the kitchen and are joined by the three mothers. They will eat our food, but they will also have a hand in preparing it. It’s a damned party! What is the party about?

Well, hell, it’s about the possibility that I am going to knock-up their young teen daughters. Go fucking figure. This is nuts. You just have to know, if they were having any problem with the concept, it would not be the party atmosphere we have here now.

Supper takes a bit longer to get on the table, but no one cares. There is laughter. There is singing, even though there is no karaoke here. I am hugged, and kissed on the cheek, and patted on the back. It is madness.

Supper is much like the pre-meal. All are elated. The discussion that follows relates to whether we will pay for curriculum from an organization that runs a home study program, hire a licensed teacher, or just purchase materials and do it ourselves. I am for the first option, but I gather that distance from these institutions offering the courses may pose a problem.

However, it is clear that this is a perfectly legal way to educate kids here and there will be no problem.

Another thing is also clear. These moms have some English skills.

So long as I am paying the bill, the moms don’t have any concern. They just hope the offspring that come from their daughters’ loins will be as white as possible. And yes, I got that pearl without the need for translation.

Everyone is happy except for… me. This puts all three of these young kids in my bed. Luckily, even though it is not a school night — school being out for the summer — adults need to go to work in the morning and all are gone by nine.

And that’s both good and bad, because… Jocelyn wants in my bed, tonight. Her argument is that May has already done the deed and so she, Jocelyn, is next in line. I guess I can say that May didn’t get the full treatment, but that just puts May back in my bed and Jocelyn would be right back the next day.

I don’t want any of them in my bed. Never in my life, before May, and I’ll be damned if I want to count her, have I ever been with a girl so young. OK, so Lexi was fifteen when I took her, and that was too young. But barely fourteen? Man alive, it is getting worse and worse. Jocelyn only turned fourteen last month. And still, I said OK to it, so my unease is a little bit on the self-serving moral outrage side of the ledger.

Right now, Lyn and Lexi have her in a bedroom, doing what? Getting her done up with makeup? Giving her instructions? This is so wrong in so many different ways I just can’t count them all. And yet, just what am I complaining about? I have agreed to it.

Up to now, I have remained as formal as I can with the youngest three. For instance, I call her Jocelyn. Her nickname is Li-Li¹, or Li2x if you prefer to write it that way. (Some might even write is as Li2.)

Maybe the formality I was enforcing doesn’t make any difference, but I was trying to create space between us in every way I could think of. But now, that space is to be obliterated. Tonight, Li2x is entering my bed.

I ask Jana if one of them will join us and all I get back is a snicker. I gather I am on my own.

My cellphone makes some noise. I have a text from Boston.

The cable TV company is sending you a registered letter. If they get a return receipt, and you mail them the enclosed form back, they say they will process the release from the contract. Please keep us informed.

I text back a simple,

OK.

A little before ten, Lexi appears and suggests I retire to my bedroom. Nothing subtle about that! Feeling pretty weird about it all, I climb the two flights of stairs and enter my bedroom unaccompanied.

Standing in the center of the room, there before me, is Jocelyn/Li2x. Her hair has been curled into lazy ringlets. She has makeup on her cheeks. There is a muted color of lipstick and what must be mascara present on her.

She is dressed, not in a pretty frock, or sexy slip, but in her school uniform. The socks and shoes are missing, but the blouse, skirt, and neck scarf are all here. The makeup allows for a different sense of her. Maybe a bit more mature and less childlike. The uniform announces exactly what I am about to do in no uncertain terms.

Li2x, whose idea was it to dress you in your uniform?

Lexi say this is best.

I have no doubt she did. Lexi wants me to see her school chums much the same way, and she doesn’t want me to forget exactly what I am about to do. Lexi isn’t subtle and she has an agenda.

I decide, for my sanity, it is better to see the girl naked as opposed to in this uniform. I approach her and tell her exactly what I intend to do, if not the ‘why’ of it. I don’t think she is opposed to getting with the program and so I am more than a little surprised when the girl tells me there is no need to undress her. She has no underwear on. All that needs to happen is for me to get undressed.

Is this another instruction from Lexi?

Yes, Sir. Lexi say the first time we do it I just lift my skirt up. She say, Sir will enjoy this!

Right now I could throttle Lexi! I don’t want to argue with this kid. I don’t want to start this off with bad feelings, but Lord Almighty, what the fuck is Lexi trying to accomplish other that having me desensitized to fucking schoolgirls?

Best to just get this over with. I remove my clothing and ask Jocelyn to join me on the bed.

The girl mounts the bed, spreads her legs and pulls her skirt up. This is not about romance. This is not about emotional bonds. This is an act of membership initiation; …. and of submission? This is so wrong, and there is no way I can make it right.

Mounting the bed and placing myself above Jocelyn, I move my member up and down over her labia. It is not dry, but not because of female secretions. She has been lubed up.

I am not sure her legs are stretched wide enough and so I gather them up in my arms, spread them out, while at the same time lifting her ass a bit off the mattress. I press my cock into her cunt, slowly. Ever so slowly I breach what exists of her hymen and then push deep into the girl.

Deep into the schoolgirl. Into the young schoolgirl, a fact Lexi wanted me to fully see and absorb.

There she lies below me. She in her uniform. My cock buried in her cunt. She, seemingly, happy I am there. We are in sync as we find the rhythm of our lovemaking.

The age difference is of no consequence now, though I think it should. But, no … now, we are partners in this act. A smile spreads across her face. My cock is happy in its new home as she does juice up. Her cunt is heating up.

As we continue to fuck, and as silly as it may sound, I ask, May I take your blouse off now?

Li2x giggles before saying, Yes, please.

She has no bra, or anything else beneath the blouse. I ask, Can we stop to remove your skirt?

Don’t stop. I not wear it next time. Promise.

It’s not like I am fucking a tiny kid. Li2x has breasts. She has secondary female characteristics. As my brain takes in that piece of intelligence, if not consciously, then at least subconsciously, I get harder and my desire for Li2x grows.

For a while, I have not been paying attention to the girl. I have been inside my own head and inside my own lust. I look down at this young girl I am plowing and all I see is happiness and greedy acceptance. She wants this. It is not passive acceptance. If it be submission, it is also true that she is working the love making and trying to get the most out of me.

I have not touched her breasts, but I do now. I pinch a nipple and she goes ape-shit with passion. Her eyes are wide open. Her mouth is open as if to scream, but no sound comes forth.

I pinch her nipple again and she does scream. She is bucking below me. She begins grunting. Her legs are thrashing around. I roll over onto my back and pull her up on top of me. We are still connected, cock in cunt.

It takes her a bit to figure out what has happened and what her options are and, then, she goes nuts bouncing on me. I begin to have real concerns should she come down wrong on my cock. Using my hands, I slow her down a bit.

She responds by moving her cunt in a circular motion as she stays flat on me, pelvis to pelvis.

I reach up and squeeze a nipple again. She cries out and seems to cum. At least, I think she has cum, as muscles in her cunt feel like they are doing a line dance on my cock.

That has the effect of transmitting to my nuts that it is time to give Li2x what I have. But I don’t want to do that on my back. I roll her over and fuck her with all I have as I unload all the cum there is to deliver into her waiting and willing cunt.

With the others, they know what cum feels like and take it all with some aplomb. Li2x had no idea and, as the cum hits her, she starts calling for Mother Mary. I almost laugh and call her my little Marist Nun.

As it is, I wrap her up in my arms and hold her tight until she pretty well just melts her body into mine.

Small kisses, from me onto her and from her onto me, follow. There are no words said. It is quiet, peaceful, and in its own confounded way, it is right.

Night passes and morning arrives with Li2x right there by my side and a smile on her face. She is very much awake and, I gather, just lying there watching me sleep. But now that I have awakened, she gets out of bed and starts folding up that uniform she wore last night.

It is the very last time Li2x will ever wear a school uniform with me in bed. She asks me if I will please put it away someplace safe as a reminder, a memory of our special day. She has others, but this one is special.

As she has no other clothing in the room, she borrows one of my shirts before going downstairs. I am still in the bedroom as she walks out. There is something different about her, now. It’s a subtle difference, but it is there. I suspect it is a sense of place, or belonging. She knows now that she is home.

And, I am still in the bedroom, a few minutes later, when Lexi walks in without knocking.

Well?

Well, what, Lexi?

I bring friends, now? OK?

You mean to visit you? You could always do that.

You allow my friends too? Just like Li2x and May?

Why? Why, Lexi? There are more people here than I wanted already.

Craig, please, just meet them. OK? There is a glint in Lexi’s eyes. To make me happy? You love me? Correct? So this makes me happy. OK?

OK, Lexi. OK.

That gets me a hug and a good kiss, before she tells me I should go downstairs. She will finish up putting the room right.

When I do get downstairs, there are two more girls in their uniforms, with curled hair and makeup on. May and Katrina have expressions of determination and intent. There can be no mistaking it for anything else.

Mel serves me some breakfast and announces that all who need student driver permits are leaving now. That puts me home with my three youngest ones… two of whom are intent of getting fucked from the looks of it.

There is a concept of the “come to Jesus” moment. I guess it was initially meant as a moment when a Protestant Christian accepted Christ into his or her life. I think there is another meaning to it now… a time when the veils drop, you see reality and finally understand and accept it.

Since the very beginning, since January, I had been trying to shoehorn my life here into my understanding of my world as a kid whose life was shaped by my upbringing in Dorchester. By my life as it was shaped by the Nuns at school and by Father Dan.

At first, I was playing fast and loose. I was wondering, what can I get away with? And then there was the reaction of, ‘no, no… this can’t possibly be right!’ I was swallowing hard as I took step after step, but feeling far from OK in the process.

At this moment, I am having my own come to Jesus moment, in the second sense of that phrase. It is a moment of clarity and understanding. For the first time I am coming to grips with the full meaning of my choice to make this place my home.

Last night, three mothers seemed genuinely happy that I was taking their daughters as mine, in the most biblical sense. They meant it. These girls are, for all intents and purposes, three more wives. It is the desire of the girls and the joy of their families. Yes, maybe… no, most assuredly… it is a function of economic realities, but isn’t all human history simply a summation of economic realities at any given moment and place?

This moment, this place, is what my life is about here. This is not Dorchester. This is not the USA. I am here and my life is about my life here and nowhere else.

The fight inside my heart, has not been about the right and wrong of what is happening here. It has been about my inability to accept the realities of this life.

I am not fighting them and their culture, I am having a fight with myself. The moment of clarity is that I know, I will never be at peace until I shed that which fights against the very choice I have made, the choice to live here.

I look at these two girls in their schoolgirl attire and decide it is time to accept this world, as strange as it is, and just get on with it.

And as that really sinks into my innermost sense of self, I wonder, which of the three will get pregnant first?

§ § §

1 - Pronounced as Lee-Lee, the ‘I’ being sounded as a hard ‘E.’

§ § §

The way forward...1