Fifteen

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

The final count...7

I think we will have to wake her up, kick her out of the bedroom and change the sheets first.

Find another bedroom, Mahal!

Agreed. Si2x is right. There are a number of bedrooms that are not in use currently… if only because there are six girls in college and on campus during the day.

There are, of course, also a number of other bedrooms not in use, though those do not have any furniture in them presently. But that is not what she meant.

Plus, Si2x has a bedroom and, I guess, that is the most likely alternative. One flight up and a couple of doors away, we enter a room I have not been in since all the furniture I owned, and the new furniture I purchased, was moved to our new home. The second floor is a floor I pass by but never linger on. It is the domain of the girls here. Completely.

It is a large floor. Just as large as the one below it, spanning seven hundred square meters or over seven thousand and five hundred square feet. Yes, it is large, but there are ten bedrooms and the hallway. Each bedroom and CR consumes a bit over sixty square meters or six hundred and fifty square feet. Out of that, each bathroom takes up seven square meters or seventy-five square feet.

So each bedroom is nice, but though not a palace; in each, along with the bed, there are night stands, dressers, chests of drawers, a writing table and chairs, a TV, and a vanity.

The exterior walls are all glass with load bearing posts on the corners of the rooms. Sheer curtains hang from ceiling to floor. The floors are all 60cm tiles. In each room there is a ceiling fan/light as well as a ceiling mounted cassette aircon.

The aircons are connected via tubing and electrical above the ceiling and below the poured floor for the floor above and run out to the compressors outside. The compressors hang by brackets, attached to the outside of the concrete handrails on the third floor balcony.

Yeh, all this runs through my head as I see the unit in the ceiling. All the girls see is that their room has a ceiling mounted aircon. The rest of it is a fucking mystery to them. It works… that is all that matters.

Each of these rooms is painted the color the girl wanted and no two rooms are the same. Si2x’s room has two walls painted an orange-red color. The wall by the door is white. All the girls asked for king size beds. I have no idea why, but they all have them, though the style for each one is different, too.

Some of the girls have fabric covered headboards, but Si2x told me that, while she thinks those are pretty, the oils she uses in massage work would ruin them in short order. And so, Si2x’s is a smooth narra wood sleigh-styled headboard. The reddish-brown color of the wood offsets nicely against the orange-red wall.

I stand, looking around the world Si2x has created for herself, as she collects towels from the CR.

Get that clothing off, Mahal. How I give a massage with all that on you?

Clearly, I have been delinquent. Si2x tosses the towels on the bed, grabs the remote for the aircon to start it running, turns on the fan, comes to me and starts assisting me in the process of the removal of my clothing.

I can do this myself, sweetheart. Why don’t you undress yourself and attend to the towels. By the time you are done, I will be ready!

She giggles but, as it makes sense to her, she follows along. Si2x is not a head-in-the-clouds romantic. She is goal-directed, clear-headed, and damned hard to distract. With her, indecision is only a consequence of having had no reason to give the subject any thought.

On your belly, Mahal. I have some new oil I want to try. If you feel any irritation, let me know.

So, you don’t want to know if it feels like you are ripping my arm out of its socket… You only want me to tell you if it rubs a little, while you are doing it?

Yes. Good that you understand. Now be quiet!

Huh.

She can be very tough on me. That much I have experienced many times before, but there always seems to be a reason for it. I can’t say I understand the reasons, but the aftereffects are always for the good.

I would not trust another massage therapist like I trust her. But I do trust her. Even now, as that proverbial arm, its socket and some pain become all too real.

The room is cooler now. I am naked, the oil has been rubbed into me. It is no longer shielding my skin from the effects of the moving air. Where her hands are, I am warm, where they have been a little bit ago, I feel the warmth fading. Where she has not been, or has not been for a while, I am feeling the cold.

I am not uncomfortable, but the different temperatures in different places is what my mind is centering on, not the contortions my body is being put through.

It is tiring. I feel like I have been in a marathon. I don’t have a clock or a watch to reference, but it feels like we have been at this a long time. I have been on my belly, on my back, and returned to my belly, only to be turned over again.

I notice the shadows from the windows. We must have been at this close to an hour already. I am wondering when this will end, when I realize we are in the cooldown stretching she does before a session ends. I am feeling good, relaxed, and oddly energetic. And just as I realize that the feeling of energy is odd and out of place, I realize that Si2x has a hand on my package.

It doesn’t take long to convince my member to stand at attention. Once Si2x has achieved that task, she mounts me, looking down on me and flexes her cunt muscles. She is doing kegels, while I am in her. There is no way I can do for her what she is doing for me. She must know that and, so, I accept the gift without comment. But Si2x is not trying to get me off. She is doing the opposite.

She is doing all she can to keep me on the edge without going over it. She builds me up, keeps me there until just before it is too late and then backs down, over and over again.

For some odd reason, I allow her to have this control. I don’t really allow it with the other girls. And now, I think she has played on the string just too damned long. I pin Si2x on her back and just fuck her as hard as I can until I take myself over the edge… and Si2x with me … cumming so hard, my balls ache.

I roll off her and onto my back, grabbing Si2x as I go and pulling her close to my side. You are an evil girl.

You like evil, I think.

Actually, no, I don’t, not with anyone else. You may be the exception.

She snuggles in even closer, if that is possible. Why you think that?

Trust. I think it is trust that your evil is good for me. That you will protect me, just like I protect you.

It true.

Yeh.

And that is all I remember before I awaken from a nice nap, still next to Si2x. She is still asleep. But, I move just a little bit and she awakens, kisses me, snuggles for no more than thirty seconds before jumping up and announcing that we need to grab some lunch. A shower is first, though, and we complete that together, playfully, if quickly.

When Si2x came here in June of 2003, she was sixteen. But this is 2008 and she is twenty-one. In no way am I with a kid making demands. She is a young woman. A secure one, safe within her world.

As we redress in her room, filled with more and better clothing than she ever had before she came to me, she is not concerned with how long she can be here. She is not thinking that her life will follow the course that her mother’s life has followed. She isn’t even thinking about how lucky she is.

No, what she is thinking about is Mica. Craig, you should take Mica after lunch. I will massage you first, then you take her.

Why the rush? What’s wrong with waiting until this evening or tomorrow?

No, please just do this. Then, we all the same. OK? No one waiting. No one outside. Better this way. We know no one else. But not all us, yet! Do it, please.

OK. Sure.

Good. Tomorrow we will have a party with lechon!

I suspect you need to check with Lyn on any parties.

Oh, she already agree. We talk. This our plan.

Who, exactly, do you mean when you say ‘our?’

Everyone. Well everyone except Lanie, Shara and Gladies. If we tell them, they will tell Mica. They tsismosa.¹

But not May, Dido or Dina?

Si2x gives me a knowing look. No. They smarter since the problem with Dina. Maybe the others, they not as smart.

It’s not that she has anything against the three who might spill the beans. She doesn’t. I know that from countless things that happen here day in and day out. This is only the issue of their potentially wanting to tell Mica what others do not want told, especially as I had not agreed to it, as they laid their plans.

Si2x takes nothing on faith. It is one of her most endearing traits. Time and again she was rock solid as my assistant in meetings when we were building this house. Now that all that is behind us, she is rock solid, in league with Lyn and Lexi, to keep this house running as I want it. Si2x has decided I need to take Mica now; it is something that cannot be ignored and, to which I have acceded. That Lyn and Lexi concur, makes it no more necessary.

Two hours later, Mica is standing before me, naked and in my bedroom. She doesn’t look a bit like the nine year old I first met in 2003. Mica is an attractive girl. She is small and short, standing only four foot eight, her shoes are a size four. That is something I found out about, as we can’t buy her shoes in the adult area and probably never will.

Her hair and eyes are black. Her teeth are bright white, beaming out from lips that are a little darker than some of the other girls here. I am told that she used to be teased that she wasn’t light enough. I find her color perfect.

Mica is giggling.

Why the giggles?

Do me and I tell!

I guess that is clear enough, even for me. Mica is not needing to be eased into this. Should I be playful in return?

Yes, Miss Mica. Today you have a choice of a slow, comfortable screw, or a screw on the rocks. What is your preference?

Can I have both? Maybe start with the first and then we do the second?

I’ll be damned. She is having no problems playing along.

Very good, Miss Mica. And what do you want for dessert?

‘Nay say I should get the cum sundae, I think. Can I have that?

Yes, of course! Now, up on the bed and I will serve up the first course.

She is giggling again. What’s with this kid? And how did she come up with a cum sundae? Sure, I make ice cream sundaes here at home, but where did she get that from?

I gather her up close to me, as we lie side by side, and skin to skin, in the bed. Her lips are eager to be kissed. A tongue ventures out hesitantly from between her lips, touching mine before withdrawing, not giving me even a chance to signal acceptance.

My tongue follows hers, telling her, yes, this is right. Her response is joyful, exuberant. Kissing; groping; rolling around; nipping gently with teeth on nose, lips and earlobes, all fill the long minutes with genuine happiness.

Mica is now humping my thigh and depositing her wet message on me in a clear call to get with the program. I roll her back on the mattress, spread her legs and place my cock where it needs to be. Just touching the entrance to the Promised Land is enough to coat the instrument of her ‘doing’ with all it needs.

I commence the ‘doing’ of Mica with a soft, but firm, push into her cunt. There is some resistance, but it gives way, without a whimper from the girl.

Now fully inserted after a few short strokes, Mica relishes in slow, lazy motions, the feelings that she tells me she has been waiting for the past five years, ever since she was nine. I never knew a girl of nine could even wish for such a thing.

I am taking the information in, as we gently feel each other in the most intimate manner possible. My cock is encased in her hot and tight cunt, the sounds of liquid making the movements even more clear, as well. That liquid removing any possibility of irritation from friction.

Her breath is measured, and in time with our strokes. A smile is fixed on her face. Her eyes are at times closed and at other times looking right at me.

Her hands hold my arms. Her little breasts, rounded small fruit on her small frame, jiggle only slightly.

The only hair on her body is the long black hair on her head. It is nowhere else. Her cunt is cleanly shaved. There is no hair on arms, legs, under arms… nowhere. She wears no jewelry other than small studs in her earlobes. There are no rings, no bracelets, nothing around her neck, and nothing around her ankles.

We move slowly and gently, every once in a while kissing, or nibbling. Until, what was to be a nibble becomes a bite followed by a request, Hard now, please.

I put Mica on her knees, before reentering her. I have a finger on her clit and a hand on a breast with two fingers pinching a nipple as I start slamming into her cunt. I maul both clit and nipple as I pound her cunt. I hear gasps, groans, and yips. I feel streams of liquid pouring over my loins as her cunt spasms time after time on my member.

Now, I hear a mantra, Yes, yes, yes, yes, cum, cum, cum…

How long have we been at it? I really don’t know. I have no idea of time. All I know is the feeling of my cock in Mica’s cunt, the smoothness and the heat of her body, the lake drenching my thighs, and our breathing. And, now, added to that is the aching of my nuts for release. I am not trying to block it, but I am savoring the exquisite pleasure/pain of the prerelease, the moment before the moment. That which announces the unstoppable which is yet to occur.

And then the release, ultimate joy and sorrow all at the same time. Joy in the pleasure of the release, sorrow that the release signals an end.

I roll off of Mica’s back and she flops down too, exhausted and then giggling!

Why the giggles?

I fool you! And now I call you Craig!

How did you fool me?

You think my period end yesterday, correct?

Yes.

Ha! No, it end four days ago! I am fertile now!

But your mother and Lanie… Oh, damn, they were helping you with the lie?

Yes! See. But it OK. I really want to have a child. We decide better now.

So, how do you spank a girl you just fucked?

Mica, don’t ever trick me again. You didn’t need to trick me this time. I would not have said no. But, do it again and you will have a problem with me! Are we clear?

OK. Sorry. … Craig, Lanie needs her baby.

There are times when I am just stuck. Each is damned well going to have her own child. There is no stopping it. The only outlier is Dido, who has shown no inclination to have a child.

The size of my family is so large that my initial reason for settling here has been blown out of the water. A family this size outstrips my original financial projections. In some ways, if it wasn’t for the good fortune of my Cisco stock, I would really be needing the college girls to graduate and get good jobs just to keep everything running.

But, I am lucky. My mistakes are cancelled out by my good fortune in the market. Even the Apple shares are adding value.

I would have successfully held to my economic model if I had settled down with one girl. Then the model would have worked perfectly. Even four was no big deal. And then we added three more… but I was convinced initially that this would really not hold. That it would just be short term.

Yes, excuse layered on blind stupidity and all the while ignoring the underlying economic rational drivers which made my assumptions meaningless.

And so I have blown up the financial rationale. It was blown up years ago and I am only buoyed up by my stock portfolio. There is black humor in that, I am in more ways, helping the Philippine economy, rather than furthering my own goals.

Oh? You think having fifteen girls is a goal worth pursuing? If so, you are fucking nuts. There is no way in the world I should have all of them here. Yes, sure, I love them, but I would have to be a heartless asshole to keep them, bed them, father children with them and not love them. I may be an asshole, but I am not heartless.

§ § §

1 - Someone who gossips.

§ § §

Tick tock...1