Take the A Van
Jecim joins me in the bedroom again tonight. I don’t ask her. She simply sees that I am leaving the easy chair, and gets next to me as I ascend the stairs. She doesn’t ask. I don’t challenge. We enter the bedroom. I can see she has brought some of her things here. She has been busy this evening.
She undresses me and urges me to take a shower. She tells me, she will follow with her shower, once I am done.
What is she trying to do? Is she trying to be ‘the wife?’ That can’t be. I have nothing to push back against at the moment, but she is getting close to the edge.
I finish my shower and get into bed as she enters the bathroom. We had sex just a few hours ago. I don’t expect a repeat now. The night stand light on the far side of the bed remains on. The lamp on my side is turned off.
I don’t know when she gets into bed. I am already sleeping. At some point I am aware she is here with me. It matters not. There is nothing but sleep to be done now.
I think it is morning. I am not sure, as I have not opened my eyes, but I hear birds outside. Jecim is stroking my dick. She is being gentle about it, not insistent. I wonder what she is expecting. It feels good and there is the reality of a morning woody that is normally accompanied with a morning need to take a leak. I am not feeling that need right now, but suspect it is imminent.
I extend my arm and bring her in to me. The warmth of her body feels good against my old skin.
Her face finds a home against my neck, snuggled in between chin and chest.
Good morning, Roland.
Good morning, to you.
You are hard. You need?
No, it is just the way I wake up. No need.
You sure?
Yes, child, I am sure.
You like me?
That is a silly question.
No… I mean, it OK in bed yesterday?
You are fine. There is no complaint.
But not as good as Jezryl?
I have only fucked Jezryl as a man fucks a whore. You did not come to bed as a whore. I did not fuck you that way. It was fine. You did fine.
I not understand.
I am sorry but I cannot explain.
If Jezryl here now, you will do her?
Ah, no. It is not because of you that I say it is not the time now. It is time I got up and pissed.
Oh! OH! OK, I see. I am stupid.
No, you are not. You have just never been with a man like this before. You are learning.
If you are hard after you pee, we do it?
I won’t be.
But if you are, we do it?
OK sure.
Good. Go pee, now. I wait.
I don’t want to laugh in front of her, but it is funny. I am quite sure this is the very first time in my sixty-seven years that I have ever had this conversation. It says in Ecclesiastes 1:9 that there is nothing new under the sun. Maybe, but this is, sure as hell, new to me.
I get up, and allow the bladder to empty. True to form, there is a limp dick when done. I return to the bedroom, displaying the evidence and ask, do you want to shower first or will I?
Come back to bed. I will make it hard.
I am not wanting sex with anyone at this moment. What I want is a cup of coffee. What I want is to go see my lady of the wood. Why does she want this? Does she think it makes her more secure here? It doesn’t. Does she want to establish a special place in my world for her? It can’t. Does she think that it is what I really want? Does she think that she needs to do better than last time, somehow? Is she really that into having sex, now that she has had it?
I will never know. There is no way of knowing. Does she even really know?
I get back onto the bed but am not sure why I am doing it other than I don’t want to cause a problem by rejecting her. I don’t have the energy for another mess.
On your back, Roland. Let me try.
She takes me in her hand and giggles. Bending down she kisses the side of my dick. Her warm hand, warm lips and warm breath feel good on the old guy.
She keeps at it. She is not going crazy on my dick, just pleasuring it. As she does so, after a few minutes, the old boy shows signs of life. Seeing it encourages Jecim. She now has hope of a full inflation and her hopes may well be realized. My desire for a cup of coffee is fading into the background as the pleasure flows through me.
My hips lift, answering her hand’s offerings. I am stiffening and a need is rising in me. I want her to climb on and end this preview of things to come. Let them come now. My arm reaches out and urges her to mount me.
She does, sliding her hot, if not fully wet pussy over my hardened dick. She gets a little way on, pulls back and then lowers herself again, as she begins to lubricate.
Twice more she repeats the motion before she is all the way down over my dick and we are bone against bone. Once there she waits a bit before moving again. But now in a concerted fashion, the pumping on my dick begins in earnest.
Her breasts bouncing up and down as she goes. In the full light of the morning sun, she is a beautiful sight to behold. Her earnest expression breaking into a smile and then into a wonderment as an orgasm hits her. Her eyes flash wide and then close hard. Her thighs tighten as she rises up a bit and then they quiver.
The orgasm subsiding, she smashes down on me again and a large breath she was holding explodes out of her. She is pumping again, working herself back again towards another orgasm. My dick is the instrument, but not the objective. I am in a way, a bystander. Her need now is to achieve the feeling she had just before. How she got there is only a roadmap and nothing more.
Whatever reason she had to induce this tryst, her objective now is to cum and cum again.
She is very wet now. My loin is awash with her offerings. Once again I experience her body’s quaking. But it is time for me. I roll her over. She is now on her back. I take control of her body. I hold her legs and pin them almost to her shoulders as I pound her hard into the soft mattress.
After two of her orgasms, her body is listening to its own logic and not to her mind. Her eyes just look up at me in subservient need. She will take what I am giving her, just please take her to completion.
I pound her hard, driving her through another orgasm before a fourth, as I fill her with my cum.
Below me, she smiles, giggles and announces, Good, take your shower now.
I descend the stairs to find coffee and fried rice waiting for me. Myra is close by and I gather she is the one who took care of this.
Where Jecim? She still sleep?
No, she was in the shower when I left the bedroom.
You fuck her?
Nice mouth!
Well? You do it?
Why do you need to know?
When I get you again? When Jezryl? That why.
I see. You want to be with me and Jezryl tonight?
Both?
Why not?
OK, both. But who you fuck?
Both.
I not think you can.
Why?
You too old. Haha, it true!
I see. You are right. I can cum only once, but I can be in both of you, before I come.
OK, yes that true. So both?
Yes.
OK, I tell Jezryl, your plan. Jecim do OK?
None of your business, Myra.
OK I ask her, instead. She will tell me. No problem.
I see. So when I tell you it is none of your business, that doesn’t matter to you?
Ambut.1
And that about sums up a lot of what goes on. It matters little or not at all, what I want or think, so long as it does not interfere with their needs at the moment. I am a means to an end for them. They are the same for me, now. It has always been this way. I just didn’t see it before Charline left me.
Following the meal, I settle down on the terrace with sandpaper and oil. I will sand her down, and then just before lunch I will coat her with oil. After lunch, I will sand her down again before drenching with oil, an oil bath, and putting her away for the night. Tomorrow I will see if she needs more sanding or just rubbing down. The grain is so tight on this wood that I don’t think it will require a third sanding. She should be complete early tomorrow morning.
I wonder which block I should start on next. There are five chunks I cut from the large piece. I had not considered the matter until now. I was focused on ‘her.’ It was her voice that urged me on and let me know when I was getting close. It was her worry, when I might be getting too deep with my blade. She had a preference when it came to the angle of my blade. I could hear her scream at me if the angle was too great.
But now the blade sits shielded in its resting position deep within the pocket. There is no worry from her. But she is talking to me. She is urging me to take the block sitting closest to the wall as they sit on a table.
Why she wants me to take that block next is beyond me. But it is the one I will take. Ah, she is happy as the 220 grit paper moves over her back. After the first oil coat I will come back with a 400 grit paper. I will use such a fine grit as there will be no paint and no varnish to smooth her. The oil may raise the grain a bit, but I don’t expect it to raise much at all. So the 220, then the oil, then the 400, then the oil bath, tonight followed by a cloth wipe-down in the morning.
I wonder what I will find waiting for me in the next block. She isn’t telling.
Myra comes out to tell me that Jezryl may not be back until late tonight. The Velmar Bus going to Tacloban took a long time with many stops, and it will be the same coming back. Myra wants to know if I really want to wait to bed them until Jezryl returns.
There are two transport options. Call them A and B. The B is the Velmar bus and it makes many local stops along the way and waits for passengers at multiple points. Jezryl needs to take the A option, the express van. It is non-stop. It costs a bit more, two hundred pesos, but it is well worth it
Myra, why is she riding that one? Does she have enough money left for a van?
Wait I will check.
I continue with the sandpaper as texting ensues.
Yes but it is mahal2.
I don’t care. Tell her to get that one.
OK, OK.
Good. Anything else?
Dili… I… dili.
What is it, Myra?
Maybe you choose Jecim?
What do you mean?
To be your mistress.
Did Jecim say that?
No! She say it not possible. I know you tell Zenny same thing. Maybe you change your mind?
Jecim is right. The answer is no, and it will always be, no. You and Jezryl tonight. Are we clear?
Oo3.
Good. … Myra, do you really want to be here?
Why you ask?
Twice you have read me wrong. The first time created a mess. This time, at least you asked. But you have doubted what I said to all. Maybe this is not for you.
I sorry. You very different. You not sex crazy. Sometime I think you not even want it. But you do it. Jecim say she the one make it happen. She make it happen twice. That true?
Yes.
So why you want more?
You mean why do I want more than one companion?
Yes.
Then no one thinks she controls me. No one thinks she runs things. I had that before. I am still married to that person. Never again. You are here, but you are not my one and only partner. No one will ever be again.
What if you divorced?
Are you crazy? It isn’t possible! Look, there are a number of answers to that. Yes I could get a divorce in the USA but it would not be legal here. She owns the land here. I would have to go to the USA and do that. Then she would have to come back and file for the annulment. … But, as I wasn’t the one who left the marriage, and abandonment isn’t grounds for annulment anyway, it is beyond doubtful the annulment would be granted here. Even if there were grounds, and the annulment was granted, I would lose everything here. She owns the land and the house. It is not legal for me to own property here. So she will get all of it. For that reason I would need to challenge the annulment even if she could file for it, which she can’t! So long as we are married, I can live here without a problem. If there was an annulment, I would have a very big problem. So like I said, it’s not possible.
You live here long time. Why you not citizen?
Your country has a process to allow me to file for citizenship, but in reality it really does not honor the process. While many are eligible, few succeed even if they do everything right. Maybe if I was Asian, they would allow it. I have heard Chinese get citizenship, but white guys mostly do not.
That wrong!
Yes it is wrong, and so what. It is the way things are. I can’t change it.
But she is bad. She leave you!
Yes and she was able to do it knowing that there was nothing I could do about it. It is one of the reasons she conned me and left me.
Now you angry with all Filipina?
No. I am not angry. I am just making sure that I never get treated that way again.
You happy to live with three?
Yes.
Forever?
For as long as I live. Forever is not an option.
That forever.
OK. Then yes, forever.
I can stay forever as a wife?
No one is a wife.
Do not be difficult. We live here as partners for you forever?
Yes.
I can still work?
Yes.
I keep my money?
Yes.
I not support you?
Correct.
OK. I want to stay. This best.
No more problems please.
OK, no more.
Good.
What Myra investigated in this Q and A, is the very example of what is called enlightened self-interest. She has made a bargain. It is not perfect for her, but it is attainable and covers all her bases. The perfect may not be attainable. So seeing the cards she has to play, she has bet on what she hopes is a sure thing. It is a bet. I might be lying. That she cannot know. But I have been here a long time. The land and the house are here. Stability, in many ways, surrounds her. I am the cause of that stability and she is betting on being part of that.
The bet is probably a good one, so long as she does not try to rock the boat again. I suspect she won’t. I am not a betting man, but I think the boat rocking is over.
Lunch approaches soon. I put the sandpaper down and put ‘she of the wood’ on a small pedestal that sits inside a large flat bottomed shallow bowl. Taking small brushes, I apply the oil to her in liberal fashion. She glistens. She is really something. I wait five minutes to see if a second covering is needed. It is not. The wood does not appear to be absorbing much at all.
I wrap the brushes, and put the oil away. It is time to wash my hands and get ready for lunch.
The afternoon follows much as I have planned. The oil has not absorbed. I wipe her down. I guess I could leave her as is, but I go over her with the 400 grit, wipe her again and give her the oil bath.
Taking the rest of the afternoon off from the work with the wood, I decide to make scalloped potatoes. We have some ham left over. I have some potatoes, onions, flour, butter, cheddar cheese, and milk. That’s all I need. Myra and Jecim watch as I get the ingredients out. Watching as I start each task, they ask if they can complete each thing. With six hands, it doesn’t take long at all. The fact that this kitchen has an oven makes it very different than the average Filipino home. It’s not that ovens are not possible. They are, but most homes simply are not so equipped.
I have Jecim text Jezryl to find out where she is and hopefully discover when she will return, only to find out that she is in a tricycle on the way from the bus terminal to the house right now.
These gals have never eaten anything like scalloped potatoes in their lives. I told them there is no rice on the table tonight. That caused a minor uproar. When we had the mashed potatoes, I had not put my foot down on the matter of rice. But it just isn’t needed.
My dear mother would have demanded a vegetable on the table. I have not provided one. We have plenty of vegetable only meals here, and some that are just rotisserie chicken and rice. So this is no better or worse that way.
All my girls like beer and so each gets one, and a helping of the dish we made. The result is just funny. They love it. They take heaping seconds once they realize that it is edible. Yup, we have a winner. Now, if the girls can waddle up the stairs in a couple of hours, all will be OK.
1 - The key word of the phrase ‘ambut sa imo” in Cebuano, essentially meaning, “I don’t care,” “It doesn’t matter,” ‘Why you ask me,” or ‘Whatever”
2 - Expensive. [Literally means 'dear' and can mean the price is a dear one (expensive) or can be an affectionate term for a 'dear person']
3 - Yes.