Doing wrong, doing right
It is nine in the evening. Jelou is here.
How old are you? I am sixty-seven. This kid is fourteen. There is not one sane reason why she should be in this room, unless she needs a raise in her allowance, or to explain why she wants to stay out with her friends tonight, or maybe try to convince me that a bad report card really isn’t her fault.
No, not one sane reason. The reason isn’t sane, but it is real, and honest, thought out, and compelling. She needs to feel loved, desired, and bound to me, to feel safe. To feel that she has reached final refuge in her journey from her earliest years and memories.
To her, that means sex. For her, sex is the thing that lies as bedrock. Everything else is artifice. People will lie for it. Pay for it. Beg for it. Steal for it. And the only time it doesn’t matter is when someone is so strung out and fucked up on drugs that they are lost to the world.
If I view Jezryl as damaged, then I must see Jelou as damaged even more. It seems there was a time in Jezryl’s early life when she experienced some normative care and mothering. But the two years that separate these two girls contains a rift on motherly concern and affection that defies simple understanding. Jelou has more in common with Vieve than she does with her older sister in this regard.
I missed that. Jezryl missed it. Myra and Jecim are so far from it as to be unable to connect with it.
Vieve and Jelou saw their distorted world as real, necessary, and immutable to change. Both did. They saw themselves as the only ones who could see the raw truth of the world, while the rest of us are blind. The curtains have been pulled back for them. They can see through to the ‘reality’ of their lives. That ‘reality’ was what gives them the shakes. They saw the shakes as the obvious and understandable reaction and response to ‘reality.’ It was. It was the reality of damaged lives.
But Vieve’s time with Kenneth, that simple, unaffected, and uncomplicated man, did more than show Vieve that what she was seeing was not the reality of normal life, but only a slice of the passions humans feel. It showed Vieve what can be found attached to that passion when things are in balance. It is the medicine that cures the shakes.
The only question is, is the addiction to the game too strong?
Only Vieve’s experience, expressed, discussed, dissected in detail at the supper table tonight, constituted sufficient illumination for Jelou to recognize, in her own being, the truth she had no idea existed outside her cramped view of her world. She needed to understand what was happening to Vieve to find a path for herself.
The first time I was with Jelou, it was to violently disarm her, to strip from her the tools, the weapons, she used to protect herself, and maintain a solitary and insulated control of all around her.
That had to happen. Possibly the pain, isolation, and depression that followed, was necessary as well. She needed the earth to be turned by the hard and insistent edge of the plow before a new seed, placed in tilled ground, might have a chance to sprout.
Jelou needs to become addicted to the need for, and surrounded by, caring intimacy. She may well call it love. I know better. I had it with Charline, that intimacy, only to eventually be betrayed. I recreated it with Jecim, and Jezryl, and Myra. It is not love, but real intimacy is the needed tonic for our hearts and brains. We all need it.
Whether I am the long term answer for Jelou, or the training ground before she is ready, in a more healthy way, to move on, or am just an interlude, only to be followed by setbacks, as she slides back to that world of fear, can be known only in hindsight.
And so now, here, in this bedroom, I will take a fourteen-year-old, not because I want to, I do not, but rather because I must. I must, gently but not too gently, bring her to me, enter her, care for her, cum in her, and hold her tight, so as to make sure she does not feel discarded following the act of completion. This is not the normal coupling I want to do, and did just last night, with Jezryl.
Jezryl and I are at peace with each other. We trust each other, and enjoy the bond between us.
None of that exists here. Here now, is a girl, by all rights in the world of decency, not yet fully aware. But she is not the product of a decent world. She is not simply wounded. She is not stunted. She has grown in poisoned soil. Her roots need a different earth in which to allow her to truly grow, good and strong.
‘Do-gooders’ think that putting her in good soil is the answer. It is not. Oh, the recipients will mouth the praise for those who have ‘saved them.’ But once the cameras have moved away and those do-gooders move on to their next act of blessed saving, those damaged like Jelou and Vieve, who have been saved, get the shakes, the fear, and all that comes with it. The results are a mix, but none live truly happy lives inside their own skins. Maybe it works with the likes of a Jezryl. Possibly it does. But not with a Jelou. And it is the Jelou’s of the world who are most at need.
I take the girl in my arms. I tilt her head up, by her chin, and kiss her, without tongue.
In my head, I know she needs to feel my need. In my head I know she is a fourteen-year-old and that I have no business being with her. In my head, I know she is cute. In my head, I don't want to be with her.
In my heart, it feels wrong. In my heart it feels perverted.
And yet… and yet… I am here. She is standing here. Her arms are around me. My arms are around her. Her lips seek mine, as mine seek hers. Her small body is encompassed by mine, willingly, happily, and seemingly with real need.
I know I shouldn’t. I know I must.
At least she will not carry a child. The IUD Myra assisted in her getting, will prevent that.
Yes, she is cute. Will she be fat and ugly by the time she turns thirty, or even twenty-five? Does that matter?
Her right hand has moved down to my dick. She is rubbing it, through my clothing. Damn, it feels good.
I squeeze her ass, through her shorts. She presses her crotch against my thigh and, in a little up and down motion, runs her clothed cunt against my leg, seeking stimulation.
The kisses are more intense. Her tongue invades my mouth. Her left hand, the one not squeezing my dick, is on the back of my head. Her fingers entwined in my hair, and pulling my head to tilt forward toward hers.
As she grinds her cunt into me, she whimpers, and grunts. She is giving ample evidence of her need. I lift her up and carry her to the bed. She voices approval of the act, and spreads her legs for me to gain access to her clothed body. But instead I unbutton and unzip the shorts. She brings her legs together and I remove shorts and panties. I pull her up by her arms, pulling her top up and over her head. Before I can get to it, she removes her bra and tosses it across the room.
I am about to remove my clothing but she is reaching up and pulling me down, on to her small frame.
I feel more than her physical presence. I feel her need, her passionate desire. This small, cute, teen is doing all she can to make sure I feel every ounce of her exquisitely expressed desire. With one hand she is holding me close. With the other, she is unbuttoning my slacks, sliding the zipper down, pushing the slacks and boxers down over my ass.
She reaches back up and around to find my dick. It is rigid. She sighs, slides around a bit below me, placing her cunt just where it needs to be and encourages me to enter her.
Is she wet? I have no way of knowing if she is ready. I have not touched her cunt. But I slide, without difficulty, deep into a tight, hot, and wet cunt. Deep, and deeper still. Bone against bone, we meet. She moans a sound of contentment.
We move a little bit. A little out and back… not much. She holds me deep in her and wiggles around with me fully inserted. She sighs.
Still fully inserted, I lean in for a real kiss. She responds and grabs my head.
Still kissing, I find a nipple with my fingers and gently play with the tip of it.
Jelou just about comes unglued as she bucks up into me, pulls her head back and wails as her cunt spasms on my dick.
I pull out a bit and plunge back in hard, once, twice, and again, all the while playing with that nipple. And off she goes again.
I repeat the scenario again and she bucks up screaming, Cum! Cum! Cum!
I start jackhammering her cunt. She’s wailing, and grunting, until my balls send the message and my cum flows into her.
We are quiet. Our faces are side by side. Mine face down and her face up. I am still over her. I feel wetness on my cheek. She is crying.
Are you OK?
Yes! Yes! I am OK. Very OK.
Why’re you crying?
I think, because I am happy. Maybe? Yes. That why. Thank you, Sir. Thank you, Rolie.
I move off to her side and she rolls on top of me, kissing my nose, my brow, my cheeks, my ears. She’s giggling, murmuring, sighing. Her wet cunt oozing fluids on to my belly all the time.
Rolie, it OK if I put some of my clothing in those drawers?
She is pointing to a chest of drawers on the far side of the room. Charline’s stuff used to be there, but those drawers have been empty since she left. Jelou knows this as she has helped clean the house and that includes the bedroom.
I know why she is asking and I guess I see no reason why not to allow it.
Of course. This is your home. That will be fine.
She moves down on me a little bit, puts her head on my chest and cries anew.
Rolie?
Yes?
I not shaking.
Good. Very good… I am glad you are home now. Now let’s go to sleep in our bed. It’s good to be home. See?
Yes. It good.
We sleep.
I awaken to kisses. Little kisses… on my forehead, on my eyelids, on my cheeks. As it becomes clear that I am awakening, giggles accompany the kisses. A tongue licks my right temple. Gentle teeth nip the end of my nose. Hot breath falls on my face followed by more kisses.
My eyes are still closed, but I am very much awake. Good morning, Jelou.
Good morning, Rolie. Who take shower first?
Up to you. If you want to sleep for a while longer, stay here in bed.
No, silly, I awake. It OK if I take shower now?
Yes. It’s fine.
Good, then I dress and start moving things to the drawers here!
This is a Sunday and my morning proceeds pretty much normally from that point on for the next couple of hours, before… Jecim, Jezryl, Myra and Vieve all descend on me, out on the terrace..
They all sit there, waiting for me to acknowledge them.
Yes?
It is Jecim who is the spokesperson for those assembled.
What happen?
Huh? What do you mean?
What happen with Jelou?
You know what happened. I took her to my bed last night.
That not all, we think.
Why? What is the problem?
No problem. You want our clothing in your room?
Ah, Jelou asked permission to put some things in a drawer. I said OK.
That all?
I am not sure what you are asking. Is there something else happening?
All our clothing? All us?
Huh?
She say we all put things in the drawers. We all yours. Vieve too. You say this?
No. We didn’t talk about it. But… I am not opposed to it.
I am not opposed to it at all. She wants to mark her turf, but to do it without the others doing it might well seem wrong in her eyes. She knows she is the youngest and most junior. She needs all to mark the turf too. Young though she is, she sees herself as part of a group, of my group. She is a part. That was the entire purpose of my being with her last night. To that extent, her need to equality in membership makes perfect sense.
The girls are looking at me. I think they are surprised by my response. I think Jelou needs you to join her in this, so that you do not see her as stepping on your toes. There are many empty drawers in my room. I don’t see why you don’t make use of them. And, yes, Vieve, I include you in this. Once we have a doctor’s clearance for you, you will be just as much a part as the others. … But I have a serious request. Please no one else.
Laughter ensues among two.
Vieve is not laughing. She is crying, much as Jelou cried last night. And for a brief moment I think of Kenneth. Vieve owes him a great deal. It is something he will never know.
A cloud forms over Myra’s face. She desperately wants Alida to join her here. It just isn’t going to happen. To add her, means adding another young girl and not one who has lived the life that Jelou has lived. She has grown up as anyone would want a young girl to grow into womanhood. That girl is too young and this is not the place for her. I know it. Myra must know it. So what am I to do with Myra? Does she need to leave us?
She says she isn’t going anywhere. But how long will that resolve last? Maybe if she can hold out long enough for Alida’s daughter to leave home… but this is the Philippines. Her daughter may never really ‘leave home.’ Most ‘homes’ are multi-generational.
It is the case that Jecim’s multi-generation home does exist and she is close to it. She is here, as the youngest, in a weird match her mother and uncle engineered. If she had not been the first, I doubt I would have allowed it. If she had not been the first, I doubt they would have proposed it and she might well have lived in that multi-generational home all her life.
Jezryl was a whore and the child of a dysfunctional broken home, as are Jelou and Vieve.
Only Myra is like Jecim, a product of a sound, functioning family, and she is here, once again as the youngest. She, a free spirit who was allowed to fly more free than were her older siblings. Still, her need to bring her older sister into this with her, creates problems. It is a need for family that is so basic to the meaning of being Filipino that I just don’t see any resolution except for Myra to leave us. I think Myra is reading my mind, or maybe the expression on my face.
Rolie, it OK if we put a guest house on the property?
The term “guest house” can refer to a nipa hut, also called a bahay kubo. It is a hut made of bamboo, rattan and has a thatched grass roof. There can be a room or two inside it and can accommodate a bed or two.
Why would I want to, Myra?
My sister, she can live in it with her daughter. She not in the house. Her daughter not in the house, but I see them every day. You not require sex with Jecim when she come here. She ask for this.
Yes, that is true.
So you not really need sex with Alida. Alida and her daughter not be together in the house, so no problem. See?
Alida wants sex, so I don’t get that at all. What she doesn’t want is sex with the girls. Plus, just because your niece’s bed is not in the house, solves no problem that I can see. There is too much sexual activity on this property for your niece to live here.
Rolie, my sister and niece visit here. You allow this. Jelou is here. My niece is with Jelou. What the difference?
Are you telling me that Jelou has introduced your niece to sex?
I not know. I ask, what the difference?
I see. Jezryl, when those two come to visit next time, I ask that you visit with Myra’s niece and see if there has been any influence from Jelou on this girl. OK?
Yes, OK. I do it.
If there has been, then, Myra, your niece must not come here again.
Myra screams. She screams at me. Jecim and Jezryl grab her, and pull her back into the house, away from me. Vieve is just sitting here. The tears have ended. She is just looking at me. It is a curious look.
You right, Rolie. She wrong. You right.
She needs to be with her sister.
She need this. It true. But not here. I think, not here. You right. Why that?
Why what, Vieve?
Why you not want to fuck the young girl, you fuck Jelou.
Yes, I’m doing a bad thing when I fuck Jelou. I agree. But, Jelou needs it. She’s like you in many ways. She’s seen sex from a very early age. I cannot change that for her, just as I cannot change what happened to you. Both of you were damaged and need to heal. That can happen here, but you and Jelou are unable to heal without sex. It is part of who you are now. … Myra’s niece is not the same. Since she doesn’t need sex to get healthy, I see no reason to damage her.
Yes, it true. I damaged. So you do wrong with Jelou, because you must, to do right?
Yes, I guess you can say that.