This story is based on real events in my life. All characters are 18 or older. This is the conclusion of Breeding the Help.
*****
How true love waited after impregnating my family’s young Filipino maid.
Bangkok, Thailand June 1997
The long black and yellow-trimmed polyester gown was stifling as I sat in the middle of three rows on the stage of the large school gymnasium along with my peers. Our tassels swayed gently as we were subjected to the final ritual of high school – graduation. The walls of the gym, usually filled with the resounding thuds of basketballs and the echoing screeches of rubber shoes against the wooden floor, quietly reverberated with the droning platitudes of the head of school and the board chair. Yellow and black banners hung from the ceiling, framing the giant golden Hanuman medallion behind us. I never understood why the school’s logo was a fucking monkey when the mascot was a panther. I sweated under the hot glare of the industrial pendant lights above as I stared straight ahead into the packed audience behind the student orchestra. A few rows ahead, all the faculty were seated. My eyes kept getting drawn to the top of Coach Venables' bald head, gleaming with sweat.
Everyone’s parents were there, mine included. Although he’d managed to get himself into a suit and tie, my father’s face was blotched and ruddy from the alcohol he’d pregamed graduation with; probably to get through sitting next to my mother. Mom had gussied herself up with her best Prada silk sheath dress, a bone-white thing that complimented all the jewelry and the French twist and French nails she flaunted. Mother kept looking back over at her Foundation friends in the audience, beaming and waving with the plastic, social smile she reserved for her public. She was so fucking proud, like this was her day. My parents looked like the perfect rich expatriate couple, but the tight, pinched look on my mother's face when she wasn’t pining for attention and my father's constant fidgeting made it clear that the ugly tension between them was very real.
My father kept fiddling with his Rolex, probably planning his next drink or something. He tried to surreptitiously touch my mom's hand while it rested in her lap, but she jerked it away, glaring daggers at him and hissing something venomous through her teeth before the porcelain mask went back up. Dad didn’t react, his expression stoic, eyes distant.
I glared hatefully at my mother. She’d made a cruel comment as she helped me into my gown, fussing over me so I’d look perfect.
“Look at you, Princeton,” Mother had sighed with relief and self-aggrandizement as she fixed my lapels in the afternoon. “Oh silly boy, we did it,” she’d said with a little vulpine look of triumph. “Of course I spoke with the dean of admissions at Hôtel du Cap last December – we’re old friends, naturally. She was willing to overlook all your…”
That deflated my teenage ego like nothing else. I fucking loathed my mother. I wished the ground would open up and swallow her for that, Old Testament-style. I’d almost accepted Duke instead, just to spite her, but Princeton’s old money bullshit and connections were my best chance at a good life for Maria and our unborn kids.
I’d do it for them.
Maria was the only person who I wished was there for me. She was the one who’d supported me through everything, who’d pushed me to be better. It wouldn’t have mattered who Mother was friends with if I’d stayed at the 2.6 GPA I’d had last year and wasn’t at a 3.3 now. Without Maria? I’d probably have dropped out of school or worse. This was her moment as much as it was mine.
Instead, our 24-year-old Filipina maid was back at our villa, heavily pregnant with my illicit twins. At 8 months along, she was unbelievably sexy and so massively pregnant, her belly now approaching the size of a beach ball but slightly more oblong, protruding from her petite frame in such an obscenely arousing and feminine way. Her belly button stuck out from the tapered end of her abdomen, larger than ever. I don't know if it was from the raging hormones near the end of her pregnancy or the attention my hands and mouth were giving them every day, but Maria's breasts were even larger, swollen in preparation for two hungry mouths. Her dusky nipples engorged and perpetually stiff and eager, milk leaking all over her tits whenever she wasn't wearing her nursing bra and pads. Our maid's hips had widened to accommodate her growing belly and the new weight her petite 5’0 Asian body had accumulated in preparation for birth.
But besides her belly and breasts, Maria was just as lithe and slinky as ever, making her expectant form so incredibly erotic. Her hairy Filipina cunt was so swollen and puffy, her folds permanently plumped and parted, her clit erect and peeking out from the top of her labia, always moist with the slick juices her pregnancy was oozing. It was more of a broodmare cunt now than ever before, crowned with her black fur, fat lips pouted out with their deep, dark color.
It was such a fucking turn-on. I couldn't keep my hands off her, and my mare couldn't wait for my big white cock to fill her and quench her need. At this late stage of her pregnancy, when my parents weren't around we couldn't keep our clothes on, and Maria couldn't help herself from dropping down onto her knees and sucking my cock, or getting on all fours, presenting her ass and cunt, ready to take me.
The thought made me hard under my graduation gown as I sat there and the endless bloviating dragged on.
I was crazy in love with Maria, with her body, with her. She wasn’t just our housekeeper to me anymore – she was my secret wife, the mother of my unborn children, my sexy Asian lover, the only person who understood me – my everything. And she was waiting for me.
Every minute of this felt like agony. I just wanted high school to be over forever.
We hadn’t even gotten through the head of school’s opening speech yet. I guess it was supposed to be poignant and inspiring or something. Most of my peers were listening with rapt attention, but with the birth of my twins so close, graduation felt more like dragging myself across the finish line than the momentous-ass occasion in my life it should have been.
“...and as you step into the world beyond these walls, I can only hope you'll carry forward the legacy of this great institution—a legacy that has been shaped, in no small part, by the leadership here, who have stood on the shoulders of giants. We bear the torch…”
Jesus. Christ.
I’d smuggled in my Walkman, wearing my headphones around my neck under the collar of my gown. I fished out the headset with a hook of my finger and discretely nudged it up over my ears and sighed in relief as the speech was drowned out by top-shelf grunge.
‘I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care,
I don't care, I don't care, care if it's old
I don't mind, I don't mind, I don't mind
I don't mind, mind, don't have a mind
Get away, get away, get away goooo…’
No one seemed to notice with me in the second row. It was a subtle ‘fuck you’ to the institution I’d been trapped in, a brief rebellion against the oppressive, gilded system I’d been locked into since birth. After what felt like a lifetime, the head of school wrapped up his address and the board chair stepped in, followed by the high school principal and finally the class valedictorian, Margaux Bennett. Pretty-faced Margaux was a classic, prissy rich teenage white girl who'd worn her glasses today to look more sophisticated. She was part of the group of kids who had a prayer circle before every exam to ensure their academic success – not like they really believed, just that they really wanted a good grade.
I didn't care what she had to say – Margaux was a mean bitch who'd enjoyed bullying and belittling others who stumbled into her path, despite being so self-righteous and superficially religious. She didn't deserve valedictorian, but I'd learned early on that the wealthier and more powerful your parents were, the more shit you could get away with. Margaux was the fucking US Ambassador’s daughter, of course, who was also on the school board. She was going to Harvard, where she’d probably be majoring in her father’s credit cards.
‘...Even if you have, even if you need
I don't mean to stare, we don't have to breed
We could plant a house, we could build a tree
I don't even care, we could have all three…’
After Margaux had her insufferably arrogant moment in the sun, the orchestra started playing the processional and our vaunted school leadership began giving out the diplomas. With a surname like Weiss, I'd be just about dead last, so I watched everyone else walk across the stage. My parents and their social circle were clapping politely as they called out the names and matriculation of their friends' children, furthering the competition between them. The students walked across in alphabetical order to the waiting principal and head of school, both older white guys in suits – it was all highly choreographed. The head handed them their diploma, the principal gave a handshake, they smiled for the flash of a camera, and then shuffled back to the bleachers. The process repeated over and over.
I felt like I was melting into the ground; like my molecules were destabilizing from all the fucking pomp and circumstance.
"...Carlton Weiss, Princeton University."
The words registered, muffled by the music and the applause. Why’d they have to use my full name? I hated that shit. I took off my headphones and left them around my neck, slowly walking across the stage. My cheeks hurt from holding a smile and my palms were sweaty, but I did my best to keep my composure and play the role. Like an automaton, I took my diploma and shook hands. I could hear my mother's shrill harpy voice and my father's more subdued cheer in the background. Some of my friends whistled and shouted my name. I smiled for the camera, frozen in the moment. All I could think about was how some Native American tribes believed that taking a photograph stole your fucking soul.
I was more relieved than fulfilled as I walked back to the bleachers, but with the weight of the diploma in my hand, I finally felt like something important had transpired, like I'd been released from prison or something after a long stretch. It meant freedom, but it also meant I was hurtling towards an unknown future that I had no idea where Maria or our kids would fit in.
As our caps flew into the air and the gymnasium filled with rousing music from the orchestra and thunderous cheers and applause, all I could think about was getting back to her.
****
I said goodbye to my friends on the stage, which was bittersweet as hell. I realized through my own life's drama that I probably wouldn't see most of them again after this. Stepping over a carpet of fallen caps, we hugged, shook hands, slapped each other's backs, and took pictures together. There was this Foundation graduation banquet afterward that I was being forced to attend by my parents, but the real parties were happening downtown, with most of my friends going to either the Den or Anthony’s house in Soi 55.
After that though? Vincent, Stephen, Chizzy, and Ralph had all talked about doing a trip to Hong Kong in a couple of weeks and crashing at Vince’s parents’ place there, but I’d been noncommittal. I was still figuring out how to spend the most of the dwindling time I had left with Maria. My parents hadn’t asked what I wanted to do with the summer before Princeton yet, but they would soon. It was a shitty choice between my best friends of the last 4 years and Maria, and I couldn’t be in two places at the same time. Like everything in the life of an expat kid, impermanence was the norm. People came and went – you just had to enjoy the moments you could share before they were gone. I couldn’t let that be Maria.
I suffered through one last ceremonial disgrace in the foyer of the school where the families were gathered. The staff released doves to flutter out into the dusk while the school choir sang R. Kelly’s “I Believe I can Fly” from risers off to the side. We’d all changed out of our gowns into formal wear with boutonnieres corsages, holding paper plates with candles on them while our parents looked on.
Like debutantes or prized livestock, we were paraded around and constantly photographed. The Foundation families had their own area where their sons and daughters all looked so proud of themselves, like the world was at their feet.
"My boy!" Mother exclaimed, her face beaming, as she favored me with a rare, suffocating embrace. I reciprocated warily, noticing that Dad was hanging back near the reception area with the champagne fountain, helping himself.
"Oh, Carl, I'm so proud of us, darling," my mom gushed, her eyes shimmering. She was in an exceptionally good mood, self-satisfied to the point of being unhinged with triumph. "We really turned things around at the eleventh hour, didn't we?"
"Yeah," I answered, trying to sound neutral.
Mother’s smile faltered for a moment. She glanced around at the crowd and then leaned in close to me, whispering through her teeth. I could smell champagne heavy and sour on her breath.
"Your father is being very rude right now, Carl," she hissed, her voice dripping with venom. "It wouldn't kill him to spend a moment with us, would it? I'm going to have a word with him and see if he can't at least pretend to be civil. We need to keep up appearances for the Banquet."
God, the fucking Banquet.
I played my part again and projected my own fake smile as Mother dragged me around to show off to her extremely rich white expatriate friends in their gowns and tuxedos. I'd changed into my suit, an Armani Mom had tailored for me for the occasion. It felt so gross the way that our parents were talking about us like we were long-term investments. Everyone was so fake and condescending.
"Oh, he's such a handsome young man," one half-mummified Foundation mother said, gushing over me, her husband nodding next to her. "What are you studying at Princeton, Carlton?"
I cringed internally at the name.
"Uh, Business," I replied, sounding practiced, my voice almost a monotone. "Investment Banking." I died a little inside every time I said it, like I was destined to become my father’s clone.
"Wonderful," the upper-crust creature chuckled before moving on to Maximillian and his family who were standing nearby – just a little bit more desirable and profitable than I was.
After a few more rounds of the same, Mother decided to drag me over to the champagne fountain, where Dad was smoking cigars with some of the Foundation fathers.
"Thhhere he is," my father slurred as he raised his glass in a toast. "You made it, Princeton," Dad said, a note of pride in his voice, clapping me on the shoulder. "I knew you could. Next stop, an MBA at Wharton, just like your old man."
My mother's eyes flashed as she pulled him aside and I made myself scarce. I eyed the foyer exit longingly. I desperately wanted to go, to escape, but I had to suffer through the added humiliation of the Banquet or Mother would make my life a living hell. I grabbed a champagne glass and helped myself to the fountain, downing the flute in one go.
The ensuing dinner service at the Oriental was the most pretentious event I'd ever attended, even by Foundation standards. It was a night of empty words, congratulations, and hollow praise; everyone pretended to like each other while their smiles were tight and their eyes cold and predatory. The speeches were endless, and for an organization supposedly based on charity, I had no idea who the fuck the actual beneficiaries were. As far as I could gather, if you could be seen getting your hands dirty visiting a Thai orphanage or a dilapidated rural village or something, you were part of the big self-congratulatory circle-jerk of rich Foundation assholes. Everything was about appearances, but if you even scratched the surface, it cracked into a miasma of hypocrisy and privilege. The food was predictably lavish, with local delicacies and a multicultural five-star chef's menu, including live lobster, imported caviar, Chiang Mai-style whole roasted duck, and a chocolate fondue fountain sculpted into a dessert replica of the school campus.
Sitting between my parents at our table like a neutral country or demilitarized zone, I found myself watching the Thai servers, all dressed up in bowties and vests or cocktail dresses and looking nervous as they ran around attending to every need of their patrons. I saw them being belittled and treated like servants while affluent guests gorged themselves on a meal that would probably cost the staff months of wages – not to mention all the food that would go to waste after they left.
I never would have even considered that, or cared at all before Maria. I had no idea what our housekeeper was eating tonight, but it was probably leftovers, or maybe whatever she could scrounge in the pantry and fridge. It made me feel like a spoiled, pampered, entitled little shit.
Everyone here, this whole disgusting ritual – it was wrong. My love for our maid had opened my eyes to the awful injustices I’d been blind and utterly apathetic to. It wasn’t the first time I realized how much of a little fuckhead I’d been, weaponizing my privilege and looking down on everyone who wasn’t in my social strata, but it hit me harder that night. All I knew was that I didn’t want to be one of these soulless mockeries of a human being.
I kept thinking about Maria waiting for me in our villa, alone and heavily pregnant with my children, while I was stuck here, trapped. It was impossible to work up much of an appetite. I poked at my food and waited until I saw an opening to leave as some of my peers started to slip out to join the parties that'd probably already begun downtown.
"Mom, can I please go out now?" I leaned over and asked as the cheese course arrived.
"Fine, fine, go see your little friends," Mother waved me off, dismissively. "Just stay out of trouble."
"Be good," my Dad added, in an uncommon moment of intersectional parenting.
I slipped out into the Bangkok dust, the blood-red sun dipping below the smoggy, shimmering horizon. I felt like tearing off my suit like Shawshank Redemption or something and raising my arms to the sky, but I'd find plenty of catharsis buried inside Maria's welcoming Filipina pussy back home.
****
Downtown Bangkok was an assault of flashing neon and throbbing bass lines, streets filled with cars and motorcycles weaving through the throngs of pedestrians. I rode in the back of a taxi with my headphones on, watching the driver honk and swerve as the golden Buddha stared at me serenely from repose on the dash. Tupac thumped into my brain as I loosened my bowtie and unbuttoned my collar.
‘...Now, if you wanna roll with me, then here's your chance
Doin' eighty on the freeway, police catch me if you can
All I want is money, fuck the fame I'm a simple man
Mr. International, player with the passport
Just like Aladdin bitch, get you anything you ask for…’
I pulled aside an orange foam circle from my ear and called my house from my Nokia cellphone.
"Hello?" Maria answered on the first ring in her Filipino drawl, her voice a sweet balm that brought me back from the brink. She swiftly slipped into Thai. “Sawasdee ka, baan khong khun Weiss ka, mee arai hai chuay ka?”
"Hey," I said, breathing a sigh of relief just hearing her. "It’s me. I'm on my way home, but the traffic is freakin’ terrible."
"Oh, Carl, you call!" she answered in English, sounding elated. "I here, waiting you."
"How do you feel? Are the babies okay?"
"I miss you, Carl," she said, and I could hear her smiling on the other end, probably curling the cord around her finger. "You babies move around so much today, like fish inside me! Blaaump, blaump! And the boy still kicking me, aiiee!"
I laughed, feeling happy for the first time today. "Oh yeah? What about our girl?"
"She so calm," Maria said, affection in her voice. "Always waiting for her brother, so patient."
"Did you eat yet?" I asked.
"Not yet, I had big snack. I was going to eat soon. Why?"
"Maybe we could make something together?" I suggested. "I didn't really eat anything at the dinner."
"Ah?" Maria gasped, and I could hear the shock in her voice. "So big party, and they not have good food?"
"It sucked," I sighed. "Not the food, just the people. I dunno, they were all assholes."
"Oohh..." Maria murmured.
"I couldn't wait to get away and come home."
"Mmm..." Maria sighed, the way she did when she was melting for me. "Hurry home, Carl Daddy, okay? We wait for you."
When the taxi dropped me off outside the villa gate, I could see the light was on above our front porch and Maria was waiting outside for me, sitting on the steps. She was wearing a cute pink maternity dress, flip flops, and had a huge smile on her face, her long black hair in a simple braid. My mare's belly was a huge, rounded globe under the dress, pushing out fully against the fabric, and she had her hands lovingly stroking her womb as she sat and waited. Her face lit up when she saw me.
"Carl!" Maria exclaimed, huffing with exertion as she got to her feet and waddled towards the gate, her belly leading the way. She was unbelievably sexy like this, exotic and broody and full of our young. Her heavy breasts were straining against the front of the dress, and her navel was a protruding, clearly visible nub under the large, round swell of fabric.
"Hey beautiful!" I jogged over to Maria, and she hugged me tight, the taut globe of her womb pushing generously between us. I lifted her up just off the ground and leaned down to kiss her. Maria's mouth was warm, breath minty as her tongue darted over mine. My Filipina smelled so good and wonderfully familiar, like cocoa butter product and her sweet milk. The loving embrace grew tighter as we kissed each other with an urgent, almost desperate lust. I ran my fingers down her bare arms and squeezed her full breasts, making her squeal softly into my mouth. My cock stirred inside my tailored suit pants, pressing in a hard, demanding bulge against the huge swell of her round abdomen.
"Maria," I breathed softly against her cheek and she just melted in my arms. I wanted nothing more than to rip her dress off and take her right there on the front lawn – I honestly might’ve if I wasn’t so worried about the fucking Thai snakes everywhere. I took my mares’ slender little hand and led her back inside, through the living room, up the stairs, and into my bedroom. We kissed the entire way there, stumbling and fumbling until she was standing in my room half-naked, a shoulder bared, hem hiked up her tan thigh and ass. Maria reached up and started to undress me, taking off my jacket and tossing it aside, followed by my bowtie, and then my white dress shirt. I kicked off my shoes and unbuckled my pants and boxers, dropping them. I stood there, naked and erect, my young body so ready and strong. My secret Asian wife gazed at me lovingly.
"Husbaand," Maria sighed happily, running her hands up my pale frame, across the hard muscles on my chest and stomach. She nuzzled her face into my bicep, moving in close. My eyelids lowered in bliss as I was surrounded by her softness, her scent, her fertility; my cock was so hard I was smearing precum across the materinity fabric covering her hugely rounded abdomen.
"You smell so good, dress so nice,” she purred. “You miss me ah?"
"Mmyeahbaby..." I said low. “So bad.”
Maria reached down and pulled the rest of her dress up and over her head, dropping it to the floor. She wasn't wearing a bra or panties for me, just the platinum crucifix that I'd gotten her a few months back, draped between her ripe breasts. The fur covering her broodmare cunt was a thick, wild black thatch, her brown skin glowing with a light sheen of sweat. Maria was so fucking pregnant, her legs a little spread to accommodate the weight of her huge distended belly, hanging down with the weight of our twins. But her body was still a tight, petite package of supple curves and lithe limbs, pregnant tits high and full, big fat dusky nipples sticking out with excitement.
"Carl, you want eat me?" Maria asked breathlessly, her teats rising and falling above the big shelf of her belly with growing need. "I wait all day, and my pussie so wet now."
I nodded, grinning against my bottom lip, as I went to her. My Filipina arched her back, leaning up to heft a teardrop-shaped breast and feed her swollen nipple into my mouth, moaning. Her Asian mother’s milk was warm, thick, and delicious. Drinking from her was so strange and erotic, the act making me throb and pulse to an even larger, aching hardness. I groaned as I suckled her, drawing the milk from her brown breast. My hands came up, cupping and squeezing Maria’s warm udders to spray her creamy lactate.
"Aaiieeeee!" my mare cried, squirming with delight. As I kneaded her teats, both began to leak a steady trail down her belly. Maria had her fingers buried in my hair and her hips were gyrating, grinding against me. I could feel her wet, greedy pregnant cunt, soaking her fur. I slid my hand down, tracing the warmth of her sex and her thick, wet pubic hair. I stroked her pussy lips and the folds of her cunt, making her moan and shudder.
I kissed down Maria's neck, her breasts, and her belly, my fingers parting her dark, fleshy lips and stroking her aching clit, feeling her body shiver in the first of what would assuredly be many orgasms in her hyper-sensitive state; Maria’s pussy was leaking all over my fingers as they pushed into her. My secret wife was so needy, her hips and thighs bucking and grinding against me. She came again so easily at the sensation of my invading digits, crying out and throwing her head back. So near the end of her pregnancy, my mare’s body was like a live wire, her nipples, cunt, and clit all needing constant attention. She was panting lightly, pushing my head down insistently.
"Ahh! Eat me, Carl!" my woman demanded in a low moan. "Kainin mo ang puki ko, asawaaa…!”
I kissed my way down the tautness of her pregnant belly, feeling the tension of her womb, the hot, slick caramel skin of her hugely swollen mound. I licked over the swell, feeling feral in my lust and eagerness. My nostrils flared as the heady scent of her flesh, her milky breasts, and steaming cunt filled my teenage brain. I went to my knees as Maria rested back against the foot of my bed, burying my face into her dark, hairy sex, licking and slurping, tasting her wet, intoxicating musk. She gasped and cried out in wanton ecstasy, her thighs parting as I pushed her legs wide, spreading herself open for me. I worshipped my Filipina’s impregnated cunt burying my mouth and tongue in her folds, servicing her with eager lust and love.
"Eeeuuunnnh!!" Maria shrieked, her nails curled in the short hair at the back of my head as she ground her wet mare cunt against my face. She was coming hard, her legs shaking, thighs and belly trembling, milk lewdly spurting from her breasts and dribbling down the tan globe of her round stomach. Maria’s leaking teats rose and fell with the platinum crucifix dangling profanely between them as she gasped and hissed in unbridled joy. My Pinay’s sweet girl cum poured into my mouth, thick, tart, and creamy.
I licked Maria up and down her slit, lapping the hot folds of her labia, feeling her pussy contract and squeeze, her hips gyrating and rolling in pleasure. My nose and mouth were buried in the tangled dark of her thick pubic hair, and my fingers stroked her cunt, touching all the deepest places that drove her wild. I never thought I’d love eating pussy, but I loved giving Maria pleasure and making her a hot, horny little mess.
"Ohhh... ooohh!" Maria cried, her pussy contracting and rippling around my fingers. "Oohhh Carrrrrrl!"
My tongue licked up her wet folds to her clit before I started sucking and flicking my tongue over it. She thrashed above me as I teased and pleasured her. I could hear the sounds of my woman’s juices squishing as I moved my fingers in and out.
"Napakahusay, napakahusaaaaay!" she mewled above me in Tagalog, the tight roundness of her pregnant bump undulating with delight, pussy was leaking a steady stream of girl cream down her thighs. "AUuhhnnhhhh..hhnieee!"
I suckled and licked and kissed her, making out with Maria’s pussy until a huge, whorish orgasm crashed down on her little pregnant body. I just kept lapping, feeling the flood of her juices slide down my chin.
"Carr...lll!" my mare sobbed, her pussy and tits squirting, her whole body spasming, fingers buried painfully in my hair. "Hangaaaaaa!"
When her orgasm finally receded, Maria crumpled onto the edge of the bed to lay on her back, her big belly jutting upwards so obscenely. My lover’s legs were askew, hairy cunt gaping, thighs a sticky, glistening mess. I stood up, my face and lips and chin drenched in her release. Maria watched me, panting, eyes glazed and hungry.
"Carl Daddy," Maria purred, stroking the naked globe of her stomach, "you make you little mare come so good..."
I was so fucking horny, my cock like an iron rod, screaming to plunge into her. I slid my big pale teenage body up between her legs, resting my palms on the hot rise of her huge protruding belly.
"Fuck me now," Maria panted as she squirmed to shift position so her legs were dangling off the end of the bed, gazing at me with such sensual need. I marveled again at how I’d changed her slender Asian body so much with my cock’s gift. I was a man now, and I'd made a pregnant woman of her by planting my white seed in her belly. Claimed her. Made her mine. And Maria was willing and eager to take my big young dick and breed her womb full again and again. My mare, my mate. My lover.
My whole world.
I pressed the flared, angry mushroom head of my strong white cock against her cunt and pushed inside her with a slow groan. My Filipina wife's pussy was so hot and tight; she squeezed and rippled needily around my near nine-inch length, pulling me deeper, her hips rolling, welcoming me inside. Maria gasped at the sensation and bit her lip, eyes fluttering.
"Uhhhhnn..." she moaned, spreading her brown silky legs even wider. "Uuuhhhh Carl!"
I thrust all the way inside her, burying my long, thick length in her tight Filipina cunt, and her pussy spasmed. Her pregnant mound rocked and swayed as I started thrusting into her with deep, slow strokes, my hands gripping its sloping sides. She hissed and snarled through gritted white teeth in feral pleasure as I rutted her, pumping her full of my big white shaft. Maria gripped my arms and held on for dear life as we fucked; I could see the look of rapture on her beautiful face, almond-shaped eyes shut tight. Her huge belly rose and fell as we coupled, rousing our twins to kick and squirm against her skin.
"Uh! Uhh! Uhnn! Uhhnn!" I grunted, slamming into her.
"Brochahin mo puuke koooohuuhhhhnn!" my woman moaned, her fingers digging into the hard muscle of my arms, her legs locking around my waist, painted toes curling. "Papatulugin mo ako, Carl! FUCK me, aahhnnn!"
Maria’s big Asian tits were shaking and bouncing and milk was dripping down her skin, her nipples and areolas engorged and leaking, and I leaned down and sucked on her hard, thick nipples, drinking her milk, feeling her writhe under me. She wrapped her legs around my waist, drawing me deeper into the slick, grasping heat of her Asian pussy, and I groaned, my balls tightening. As I railed her, my mind lost to pleasure, infatuation, and love, the only coherent thought I had was that I wanted to breed this woman again as soon as she gave birth. I wanted her to be pregnant forever.
"Oh God, Maria," I groaned, kissing her neck and grazing it with my teeth.
I felt her cunt begin to ripple and clench around my shaft, her thighs and hips tensing, and I knew she was close. I pumped into her, her cunt squeezing harder and harder until she went rigid under me, her whole body seizing up.
"AAAAAHHHNNN!" Maria screamed, her cunt clamping down and vibrating. A sudden flood of hot juice poured out around my shaft, splashing the bed and drenching her dark, furry pubes. For a second I thought her water broke, but that was just how horny my broodmare was, squirting like a she-beast in heat.
I kept thrusting into her, and I could feel the pressure in my balls, the tight, hot ache. She was thrashing below me like a fucking wild animal.
"Carl…!" she hissed, her pussy trying desperately to milk the cum out of me, nails digging into the muscled skin of my back. "Come inside me, husbaand, now please!"
I thrust deep as her suckling pregnant cunt could take me, and Maria tightened around me to the point of being almost painful. It was too much. I groaned, pressing my hips into her, feeling her pregnant body press up below me with the delicious fullness of her fever-hot belly and breasts.
"Yes!" she begged, her cunt squeezing. "Kantot mo ako! Uhhhhnn! Inside me! Please, please, pleaaaase! Kantutin mo ako, ikaw malaking puting kabayong lalaki!"
I grunted and shoved, pressing her 8-month pregnant bump up against me, so incredibly turned on by hearing her beg and mewl in Tagalog, reminding me I was fucking a sexy, loyal, thoroughly impregnated Filipina village girl. Carrying our young. The depraved truth dragged me over the edge. I could feel the pressure well up from my balls before I came hard, pumping jet after hot jet into her, flooding her Filipina pussy and splashing against the plug of her womb with my thick, virile semen.
“NNfffuck I love you…” I groaned.
"UHHH!" Maria gasped, shuddering, her eyes widening, feeling my seed explode inside her.
"Aaaahhhn napakaraming…"
My woman’s cunt sucked up everything I had as her walls rippled and surged around me; Maria's legs shook as she clawed at my back, moaning so loudly, all while I kept thrusting, rutting. My mare's swollen womb jiggled and bounced, the weight of the twins shifting as we fucked until we were both spent.
We collapsed on the bed together, dripping with sweat from our exertions, and I drew her up to rest her head on my chest. I reached down and ran my hand over Maria’s pregnant belly lovingly, feeling its heat and tightness. I stopped my palm just below her popped navel, holding her to me possessively as I slipped out of her, still semi-hard. Maria nuzzled against me, kissing my skin and purring like a contented kitten.
I whispered to her about the graduation, cracking jokes to cover up the anxiety and frustration, but I grew more serious when I started telling Maria about the Banquet. How I felt so bad about it. The more I talked, the more the anger rose up inside of me.
"...I hate it," I said bitterly. "They treat me like shit, and they treat you worse. It's fucked up. I'm so sorry. For my parents, for me, for everything."
Maria kissed me and looked up at me, her dark eyes soft.
"You no need to be sorry, Carl," she murmured, kissing me again. "It okay."
I sighed, unconvinced. "It's not."
Maria's hand came up to take my chin, turning my face down to hers. She gazed at me with such intensity, her eyes full of fire and affection. "You nothing be sorry for. You best thing ever happen to me."
"Yeah?" I asked, smiling weakly. “Really? You don’t hate me for how I was?”
She shook her head firmly, her eyes bright, and she gently pulled me into another kiss, lips so warm and soft.
"No. You just hor-nee boy!” she said, her eyes laughing before they softened again. “But you get be-tter. You grow up to be good man who I love.”
I felt a wave of powerful emotion wash over me. All I could think was I didn't deserve it. I didn't deserve her. As I looked into her eyes, feeling her closeness and the gentle movements of our unborn children, I vowed that I'd somehow be worthy of this woman and her love.
"You're the best thing that ever happened to me too," I said, meaning it.
Maria smiled, and the look in her eyes melted my heart.
"Carl," she said, "you everything for me."
I held her for a while after that, enjoying our closeness. Our twins were calm inside her. "How are you feeling?" I asked tenderly.
Maria pursed her lips into a wry expression. "Hummm...I very pregnant."
"Oh yeah?" I asked with a chuckle.
"Yeah," she nodded, giggling into her hand with a beautiful flash of teeth. "I can't even see feet when stand up." Maria smacked my arm affectionately. "You big horse dick, big ball make my belly so big!"
"Sorrrrrry," I said, offering her a sly, shit-eating teenage grin.
"I know you notsorry," Maria smirked impishly. "You not sorry about that."
"I'm definitely not sorry about making you pregnant," I told her with a lascivious bite of my bottom lip as my eyes roamed over her deliciously expecting body.
"I know, Carl," she said, looking at me and stroking my chest. "I not sorry, too. Be pregnant with you babies make me so happy."
The twins kicked again, and I could feel the firm impact of the one's foot on the outside of her belly. Maria winced quietly. Must’ve been the boy.
"Damn. They're getting really strong," I observed, rubbing the spot where I'd felt the kick.
"Oo," my mare agreed, putting her hand on top of mine, and feeling our child roll around. "Doctor say they come soon, you know, so we need make plan," she urged, firmly but gently.
"I'm gonna go with you, like I said," I murmured, my eyes trailing off, thinking, before I finally made my decision. I shifted to prop my head up on my elbow to look at her reassuringly. “I’ll tell my parents I’m going to Vincent’s in Hong Kong for the summer but I’ll fly with you to the Philippines instead.”
"Carl..." Maria began, frowning, looking unsure.
"You think they’ll actually notice?" I snorted. "As long as I'm in New Jersey for commencement, it doesn't matter." I shrugged my shoulder like it was no big deal. "Vincent’s cool; he won't say anything if I tell him not to."
Maria looked grateful, but still a little anxious. "And after?"
"We'll figure it out," I promised.
Maria nodded, smiling thinly, but her eyes were distant. Sad. She was silent for a while, then looked up at the ceiling, her fingertips circling the back of my hand. "I tell my Mama and Papa I pregnant, come home soon. I tell them about you."
"When?" I asked cautiously.
She looked back at me with her dark almond-shaped eyes. "Last week, I always call them when my birthday."
"What did you tell them?" I asked, wondering if this was the reason for her sudden sadness. She grew animated in the telling, her fingers anxiously curling in the thin platinum chain around her neck before holding the cross tight.
"I say I buntisbut I not marry yet. They an-gree, just like I think, they want me come home now. Papa say, 'how you do this, Maria, aiyyeee?' He yell so loud." Maria took a deep breath, letting it out with a puff of her cheeks. "Mama, she more worry I have two baby. She just want me marry now. It very bad if babies come and we not marry, Gott will be angry."
Maybe in the beginning I said I'd marry Maria just to keep fucking her, but now I couldn't imagine being with anyone else, or wanting anyone more than her. It wasn’t impulsive shit this time.
"So we get married as soon as we get to Mindanao," I said evenly.
"I hope they undastand," she said softly, her voice heavy with concern. "You white boy, younger than me, no job, still student...I not tell them you son of house I work." She looked up at me with her dark almond-shaped eyes, worried, cheeks flushed guiltily.
"They'll love me," I postured confidently. "Once they meet me."
"Mm. Maybe," Maria allowed, not sounding totally convinced. "All the extra money you give help my family so much, so maybe they be happy, I think."
That made me feel good. I smelled her long, dark hair and brushed it aside to kiss her shoulder and neck, then her jawline. "It'll be fine. You can tell me what to do to make a good impression, right?"
"Yes, I tell you," she smiled. "I think Joy come too."
"That's great," I said, smiling. I luxuriated in her scent, the softness of my mare’s skin and the tightness of her swollen body.
Maria turned her head towards me and gave me a kiss, her eyes fluttering. She drew away after a moment, a wicked grin on her lips.
"Carl Daddy," she said, curling into me with a sultry look, the pout of her lip sucked in, voice a husky whisper. "You mare still hor-nee..."
My cock stirred, thickening, and I looked down into her beautiful brown eyes.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah," Maria cooed, her hand sliding down her side and under her big round belly, stroking the shaft of my cock to coax it back to life.
I felt myself swiftly getting harder and more engorged with each pulse inside her grip; Maria’s smile widened lustily, seeing the effect her hand was having. She slid my huge white hardness over her brown, swollen Asian belly, the difference in our skin tone so striking. The sight of my growing, thick erection against her tight, rounded bump was unbelievably arousing – especially considering it was my voraciously depraved dick that was the cause of her massive pregnancy.
With a grunt of exertion to lift her heavy, distended belly, Maria straddled me, her hands braced on my thighs, dark-nailed fingers gripping them tight. Her raven hair spilled down as she lowered her head, giving her a wild, savagely feminine cast. My broodmare’s milky breasts swayed, hanging heavy and full with their big, hard nipples jutting out. Maria rubbed the drenched, swollen lips of her hot mare cunt over the length of my cock, her eyes glazed, a sly, slutty look on her exotic Filipina face between locks of matted black hair.
Maria ground her pussy against my turgid, thick shaft, coating it in her need. She looked so primal, squatting over me like a primitive Asian fertility goddess. Her huge, protruding belly hung and swayed as she rocked and rolled her hips, sliding her cunt possessively over my length. I groaned through my teeth, my cock aching, and she looked at me with a hungry smile, her mouth open, tongue pressed to the back of her teeth.
"Uuhhnn..." Maria moaned. She leaned forward, her big pregnant belly pressing against me, and her dark eyes glittered with desire. "You horse cock is biggest man diick in whole world...all for me..." she hissed, babbling inanely. "All…haaunnhh! For…me."
Maria raised her ass, grabbing my cock by the base and pushing the fat head against the slit of her hairy Asian pussy, breathing in rapid little pants. Her belly was a hot, heavy weight against me as she groaned out in a stilted, shuddering wail to sink down onto me. I felt the intense, gripping, tightness of my woman’s dripping Filipina pussy envelop my hardness as she slowly impaled herself on me. Maria’s eyes closed and her lips parted as she let out a high-pitched whine, her whole body tensing and shuddering.
"Goooottt..." she gasped, her pussy convulsing, her thighs trembling, her big pregnant mound shaking above me, dripping sweat. "Uhhhhnnn!"
My mare felt so fucking amazing, so hot as her desperate pregnant cunt rippled and spasmed around me. I watched her pendulous breasts hanging below her huge round belly as she supported herself with hands on my chest, bouncing as she started rolling and rocking her hips, riding my cock like some she-animal that had mounted me, her tight little brown ass bouncing up and down.
"Uuuunnnh!" Maria moaned, her eyes rolling back in her head as her fingers dug into my skin hard enough to leave raised red lines.
"Holy fuck," I grunted, gripping her ass and rocking my hips, thrusting up into her.
Maria snarled in open-mouthed pleasure before pushing forward to kiss me, dragging her breasts and belly over my abs and chest. Our tongues met as we rutted like animals, her big belly and breasts lowering to press against me, her body so hot, the pressure building. Maria's ass and thighs slapped and bounced on me, her Asian pussy so wet and hot, demanding her fill of my virile white seed.
"Yes, yes, yessss," Maria whimpered, her breath coming out in short gasps. I fucked her slow and deep for what felt like forever while her body tensed and shook in a string of unending female orgasms. "I...cummmmiiiinnngggg! Uuhhhn, fuck me! Fuck your mare! Ohhhh Gott!"
My mare’s whole body went rigid, her face contorted into a lewd, unleashed look of womanly pleasure. Her nails dug deeper into my chest while her legs shook, pussy gushing all over me as it clenched like a suckling mouth, dripping down her well-fucked thighs.
"Uhhhh..." Maria moaned, panting. "Ah...ah..."
I gripped my mare’s shapely ass, her sweaty skin sticking to mine, and kept thrusting up into her, watching her shake and squeal, her pussy gripping and rippling around my cock. Like the good stud I was, I continued pumping against her womb until I couldn't hold back any longer.
I released the torrent of my seed into Maria with a deep, shuddering cry. The sensation set her off again, body tense, back arched to give me a view of her leaking breasts and big belly, mouth opened wide with her tongue out, eyes rolled up into her skull. She gasped, her fingers raking down my chest, and her pussy squeezed my cock hungrily, greedily milking me dry. I growled and thrust up into her one last time, pumping the last of my cum inside her cunt, Maria’s pregnant breasts and belly giving a final quiver above me.
My secret wife eased back down to lay next to me, nearly comatose from the pleasure, half-passed out. I kissed her sweaty head adoringly.
"Love you," she murmured.
"Love you too," I smiled.
We showered together, got changed, cleaned up, and went to the kitchen, both starving after our intense lovemaking session. Maria’s eyes sparkled as she suggested we make her favorite – chicken adobo and pork sisig. I’d loved it when she’d prepared it for us during Spring Break, but I’d never even touched a stove before. Someone’d always cooked for me.
My Filipina looked at me hopelessly when I expressed my reservations, taking my hand with a smile and leading me to the island in the center of the kitchen.
In the gentle hum of the balmy Sukhumvit evening, Maria put me to work while she watched, leaning her hip against the counter in a gray maternity tank top, sweat shorts, and bare feet. Her almond-shaped eyes were hooded, amused and infinitely patient, her palm resting on the peak of her pregnant belly. Our maid started with the chicken adobo.
“Marinade very important!” she pursed her lips at me with a distinctly feline look, handing me a bowl filled with the appetizing scents of soy sauce, vinegar, crushed garlic, and peppercorns. As I mixed the ingredients, she guided my hands, showing me how to blend everything together seamlessly. I chopped the chicken, nearly cutting myself a few times while Maria laughed and teased.
“Ee! Careful, Carrrrl. Hiwain ang manok, hindi ang iyong mga daliri!" Probably something about me cutting my fingers off.
"Yeah, whatever," I muttered with a smirk, squinting in concentration as the knife flashed. “Walang problema!”
Maria giggled, her engorged breasts straining at her tank top, the maternity band riding high above her gravid belly. After I gave them a good marinate, the chicken pieces went into the pot. Every so often, Maria would lean in, nudging me to adjust the heat or add a bay leaf, her warm, sweet breath tickling my ear. It was honest and romantic and pretty fun just being with her – completely the opposite of the evil Banquet I’d come home from.
While the adobo began its slow simmer, releasing a mouth-watering aroma of chicken and garlic, we moved onto the sisig, the pork dish Maria claimed was her absolute favorite.
"It not as much work," she smiled, her eyes bright and eager.
"Oh thank God," I said, making a show of wiping sweat off my brow. "I don't know how much more work I can take."
"Hush, ah!" she laughed, giving my ass a firm smack. "Rich boy, you don't know any shit! Ito ang unang pagkakataon na gumawa ka ng anumang trabaho!"
I didn't totally understand it but I got the meaning – that I didn't know what real work was. It was delivered lovingly, but Maria was right of course. At least as her pregnancy progressed and it got much more difficult for her to job, I'd been helping out with the tougher stuff – vacuuming, mopping floors, carrying laundry, making beds – she had to show me how at first, but I didn't mind at all. When my lover was done with a long day of work, I'd started the routine of making a foot bath for her. Nothing like scented candles or anything, just a bucket filled with steaming water and some bath salts to soothe her swollen ankles and feet.
After I was put on rice duty, Maria stepped in to delicately chop onions, ginger, and chili, explaining the importance of finely dicing to release the flavor. I watched after I got the cooker going, captivated by the dance of her hands with the blade, so sure and yet so tender. She let me take over, sautéing the mix, then adding the diced pork belly. My secret wife laughed as a stray onion made me jump, wrapping her arms around me from behind to guide my movements, her abdomen pressing into my hip and the counter. Maria chatted excitedly about the Philippines and everything we’d do once we were there, so proud of her home and her culture. I couldn’t help but smile at her infectious enthusiasm.
“I love eat sisig and watch the sea from my home,” she said before sampling a mouthful. “Mm! You try now. Sarap-sarap!”
Once the pork was sautéed, we added vinegar, soy sauce, and chili. It smelled amazing as it sizzled, like fajitas at a restaurant, only better. The finishing touch was the calamansi. Maria held one-half of the citrus fruit, demonstrating the right amount of pressure to squeeze without bursting it, and I followed suit. As the zesty juice mingled with the rich flavors of the sisig, I leaned down to kiss the side of Maria’s pretty head.
"Smells fucking awesome," I told her.
The smile she gave me was like sunshine.
Maria sent me to set the table as she wrapped things up, waddling and bustling around with her protruding belly and the pad of her bare brown feet.
I put out the plates, cutlery, and placemats before sitting down to think about what I was going to tell my parents about the trip. I'd volunteer to go buy the tickets as part of being an adult, a rite of passage, whatever. Then me and Maria would go to the travel agent...
I looked up to see my lover bringing in the big plates of adobo and pork sisig, smiling proudly.
"Well, I could have gotten those, jeez." I smiled.
"I preg-nant, not old wo-man!" Maria snorted, disappearing back inside again to return with a frosty pitcher of her amazing homemade lemonade and a pair of glasses. We sat together and ate – it was amazing. Simple fare compared to the grotesque excess of the Foundation Banquet, but delicious in its simplicity. It was made with our love.
"So good," I enthused, my mouth full as I wolfed it down.
Maria's face lit up, pleased, her caramel cheeks dimpling. She was glowing when she tried it herself.
"Oo! Sobrang sarap diba? We make again for sure!"
The adobo and sisig were great, but the best part of dinner was Maria. I loved the way her dark almond-shaped eyes sparkled when she talked about something that excited her; her smile and the musical sound of her laugh. Her beautiful, expressive Asian face. She was so gorgeous, especially now that she was extremely pregnant and full of our kids.
When we were done, Maria gave me a secretive, playful glance and got back to her feet, a hand supporting her back before she padded into the kitchen. She returned with a delicious-looking homemade chocolate fudge cake, presenting it to me with a big smile.
"Happy Graduation!" Maria beamed at me. "I make you cake, because flower bouquet too dumb for man."
"Wooooah! Thank you so much!" I enthused, mouth agape. "That looks so good!"
"Taste better," Maria said matter-of-factly before taking a swipe of the frosting with her finger. She sucked it into her mouth, closing her eyes. As my lover savored it, she trembled lightly, her words a soft moan.
"Umm. I love."
I watched her slyly. "Did you just…cum?"
"Maybe little," my mare answered in a small voice, flustered and embarrassed, hiding her face behind her hands.
I tried not to laugh as I grabbed a fork. "Ohhh man. Gotta try this!"
The rich, chocolate flavor exploded on my tongue, and the icing melted, sweet and thick in my mouth.
"Damn, baby. This is the best cake I've ever tasted. Better than anything we could've gotten at a restaurant. I can't believe you made this yourself!" I gushed.
"For you. I know you love sweet thing," Maria smiled. "Not big present for you graduate, but at least make you tummy happy."
I stood up and wrapped my arms around her.
"I love you so much, Maria," I said, kissing her neck, my hands caressing her baby bump before I gave her a hug. "Thank you for all this. You made my night perfect."
She looked up at me, her eyes moist. "Really?"
"Really," I replied, kissing her on the lips, her mouth opening for me.
I didn't ever want to let her go. I couldn't. Life was just meaningless without her; empty smiles and the endless pursuit of hollow accomplishments. Being one of these elite assholes wasn’t really living. It was just chasing someone else’s dreams.
After we ate and washed up, we crashed on the couch. Maria sighed contentedly as she rested against me, her bare feet propped on the coffee table, and we watched TV in silence for a while, cuddling, her hand absentmindedly stroking her big round belly.
“Ohh!” Maria quipped as we settled on satellite NBC, clapping her hands. “Friends!!!”
“Can’t we, like, watch, King of the Hill or something?” I sighed as the sitcom unfolded and her almond eyes gleamed, knocking my head back to glare up at the ceiling.
“No! I pregnant you baby, I choose show.”
I looked down at my Filipina, petting her soft, black hair; feeling her relax. After half an episode, she turned, and our lips met in a long, deep kiss, her hand on my chest. We made out for a long while, and I slid a hand up her thigh, then between her legs and Maria moaned softly into my mouth, her breathing getting heavier as my fingers worked over her covered sex.
"Carl," she gasped, breaking away, her cheeks flushed.
"You ok?" I asked, slowing my ministrations.
"Yes. I just feeling so sexy with you babies inside me," she admitted, her dark eyes sparkling, big nipples erect beneath her maternity top. She gave a little shudder. "I...want you have me, again."
Maria's slender hand found my crotch and cupped my growing erection as she gave me a familiar sultry, plaintive look that meant she needed to be tended to.
"Please..." she said, her voice barely audible, and I knew how much she wanted me. “Kantotin mo ako.”
"Come here, Maria," I said softly but with growing lust as I stood, gently pulling her to her feet and leading her back to my bedroom.
****
My parents came back late that night. Mother was exhausted from an evening of social conniving, posturing, and gloating, and my Dad was thoroughly wasted from all the top-shelf spirits and champagne. They didn't bother to check in on me, assuming I was still out at a party celebrating, when I was really sleeping next to Maria in the maid’s room, snuggled up to me content and full of their illicit, half-Filipino grandchildren.
The next day, I brought up my plan to go on Vincent's trip. Mother was ambivalent and aloof, too busy planning her own lavish “Mecca to Me” vacation to the Maldives with her Foundation coterie to care what I did with my time now that I'd served my purpose as a successful Weiss-Vanderbilt merger and secured her Ivy League legacy.
Dad seemed to think I'd earned a boy's summer trip and didn't ask too many questions, just offered me some bullshit folksy advice about putting money in my shoe and always wearing a rubber.
Way too late for the second one.
My father gave me six thousand dollars to cover the airfare from Bangkok to Hong Kong and then Newark, admiring that I wanted to book flights myself, but warning me that I'd have to rough it in Business since Mother's trip was so expensive. With a wink and more unnecessary East Coast charm, my dad privately promised me plenty of spending money for a graduation present. It might not have made up for him being a distant father, but trying to buy my happiness was a hell of a lot better than my mother’s emotional blackmail.
A couple of days later, I went to a travel agent with Maria to book flights when both my parents were out. The agent seemed a little hesitant with how pregnant our housekeeper was but didn't say anything – she was a Filipino national returning to give birth after all. My secret wife had gotten her passport back from the housekeeping agency now that her contract with my family was almost up; she was so happy to be going home with me and escape the relentless cruelty of my mother. I insisted on getting Business for both of us and flying Economy by myself to Newark at the end of the summer. Maria protested at the cost, but in her condition, I wanted her to be as safe and comfortable as possible.
As the days went by and we came closer to the end of June, Maria was much more joyful. I knew she was anxious about the looming arrival of the twins, but secure in the knowledge that I was truly supporting her and would be there every step of the way, she was excited to start a new chapter in our lives. Now that school was over, I was getting more and more nervous about the birth. I released my pent-up tension and apprehensive energy by hitting our compound’s clubhouse gym every day and checking out whatever information I could find on labor, delivery, and infant care on Netscape Navigator.
Around the house, I started helping Maria with almost all her duties when my parents were out – anything that required physical labor, including scrubbing all the damn toilets. At first, Maria was totally against me taking over her workload, but in her heavily pregnant state with aching feet, she appreciated it so much. It wasn’t fun, but I cared about Maria so much that it didn’t bother me. Pretty funny that I’d turned into the maid myself.
Maria was always trying to seduce me. So thrilled with her impending freedom, her sexual desires were just unleashed. She wanted to have sex constantly and was fucking horny all the time with late-pregnancy hormones racing through her slinky Filipina body. Sometimes we'd be cleaning together and she'd look glance, giving me an enticing look or a wag of her ass. I'd drop what I was doing to fuck her nice and deep right there. Sometimes she'd come find me, grab my hips, and lower herself to her knees, freeing my teenage dick to suck and worship it, to gratefully swallow the seed that made her this way.
Or it might start as innocently as a kiss, deepened as her tongue flicked against mine, the swell of her distended belly pressed into me proddingly. Her hand would go to my bulge, and she’d pull me by the groin to one of our bedrooms where we’d inevitably end up fucking. We were like a couple of beasts in heat.
This late in the third trimester, only two positions were most comfortable for my little Asian mare – from behind, or on top. My bedroom had this leaning mirror in the corner and I loved to watch her on all fours as I took her, the huge brown globe of her distended belly hanging low, bucking and heaving, her leaking breasts slapping and swinging as we copulated. I lusted after the sheath of her hairy pussy, so deliciously tight around my cock, the muscles deep within her spasming and sucking and pulling on my shaft as we fucked. I lived for the wanton rock of her hips, moaning, grinding herself against me, vocalizing her raw pleasure like a lusty she-animal. Maria made the most erotic noises while we rutted, her voice cracking as she moaned.
My Filipina loved riding my dick. She would lean back and put her hands behind her on my legs, or put one arm behind her on the bed, her free hand caressing her enormous, tight, taut belly as she bounced her hips and drove herself up and down on my cock. Sometimes she'd reach down and rub her clit with her free hand while fucking herself on me, and other times I'd rub it for her, making her gasp and buck and come hard on my dick, her furry pussy clamping and squeezing me like a vice. It was like her body wanted to become even more pregnant, if that was somehow possible at this point.
I wished it was just the two of us. My parents’ presence, when they were around, was more suffocating than ever.
My mother, still smug from my Princeton matriculation, went from making snide and stinging comments about Maria's condition in the morning to passive-aggressive compliments and veiled looks of disgust.
"My, my, Maria. You've put on so much weight, haven't you?" she would say with a condescending, tight-lipped smile. "I'm surprised you can even move these days, let alone take care of the house."
Or "Aren't you just looking radiant today, Maria? Oh, it just gets harder from here! I just can't imagine the birth."
The comments didn't faze our maid, who just rolled her eyes or smiled sweetly in reply. My Filipina wife knew she'd be home soon, with me, and it gave her strength and confidence to endure and ignore my mother's petty bullying. Mother would look to me as if expecting support or validation, and when I'd stare her down or call her out on her cruelty, she'd bristle and give me this bitter, suspicious stare, but then move on.
We were less careful than before. It wasn't just that we were having sex several times a day, whenever we had the opportunity – we were always around each other, enjoying each other's company, our closeness as this part of our lives came to an end. I needed to be near her like I needed water or air. My mother started taking notice. At first it was just distasteful glares, but then she started making these shitty offhand comments.
‘Carl, you shouldn't be spending so much time with the help. It's unseemly.’
‘ ‘You're getting a bit too close with the maid these days. You do remember she's pregnant, don't you?’ ‘
‘ ‘I'm getting tired of you carrying on with Maria. Why on earth you enjoy her company is well beyond me.’ ‘
I either ignored Mother or gave her an angry glare. I had to hold myself back from snapping and saying something truly nasty. I don't know if she was jealous of Maria's fertility or the attention I gave her, or was just so batshit insane with paranoia, but she seemed to be watching us much more closely whenever she was around. Was she starting to suspect me instead of Dad? Or just thinking I was attracted to our pretty, pregnant housekeeper? I could feel the tension growing again, and this time it was directed at me.
Dad was getting worse, not better, with his apparent alcoholism. He was drinking so much that he was drunk more often than not, and his mood was erratic. Some days, he was quiet and brooding, and others he was overly jovial and talkative. I felt partly responsible for fucking up our family and guilty every time my parents fought, but I had to remember that Mom was the one who went after my father like a crazy person.
It was okay though. I'd be leaving Bangkok behind soon with Maria, and never see the old Sukhumvit villa with all its drama and suffocating secrets ever again.
****
My young life had gone through a lot of changes in the past year. I thought I'd settled into expat life and found some semblance of stability, but then something happened that just blew everything apart. It’d just turned July and we were a few days from getting on a plane to the Philippines. Maria and I were both starting to pack separately. It was a day like any other; I'd come back from using the fitness center in my workout clothes, ready for a shower. I heard the TV blaring with my mother's soaps and grazed past Maria in the hallway, stealing a kiss and a grope of her breast, a caress of her pregnant belly.
I grabbed a chilled water bottle from the fridge and headed for the stairs, slowing when I heard Mother's panicked voice on the phone from the living room.
"What? What does that mean? Yes, yes, I'm trying to –" I heard the channels change with a buzz of static and discordant sound before they settled on a news report given by a female anchor.
"...financial storm appears to be brewing in Asia that's sending shockwaves throughout the global markets. It began when Thailand's central bank decided to float the Thai baht due to lack of foreign currency to support its peg to the US dollar. Overnight, the value of the baht plummeted, leading to panic selling of the currency..."
I felt a terrible sense of dread as the TV drew me in to stand in the doorway and watch the screen. CNN International broadcast. My mother was hunched over, riveted at the edge of the couch in her blue satin bathrobe, hair perfectly coiffed, martini glass in one hand, the corded dial phone receiver in the other.
The TV showed frantic Thai stock market traders and people lined up outside of banks all over the country. Footage shifted to the streets of Bangkok, where there were visible signs of economic distress. Store closure signs, distraught shopkeepers, and general public unease.
"The implications are far-reaching," the anchor continued. "The rapid decline of the baht has sent panic throughout Southeast Asia, with many fearing that other countries in the region could be affected. Already, stock markets in Hong Kong, Malaysia, the Philippines, and Singapore are showing signs of turmoil."
"Oh my god..." Mother hissed, biting her French nails as the phone dropped from her hand onto the carpet.
"Investors around the world are on edge, concerned about the potential spillover effect. Experts are predicting that this could be the beginning of a larger financial crisis in Asia, with the potential to impact economies globally." There was damning footage of various stock market boards in red, traders shouting and phones ringing off the hook.
Maria came up next to me, taking my hand in hers, covering her mouth as her eyes widened with shock. I squeezed it reassuringly. Mother was as pale as death, her knuckles clenched.
"The world watches with bated breath, wondering how deep and widespread the effects of this crisis might become. We'll continue to provide updates as we receive more information..."
"Oh GOD, Carl! CARL! Call your father right now!" my mom wailed, her voice a racing cry. Maria slinked away, pulling her hand from mine. We shared a frantic, silent look before she disappeared into the laundry room to wisely make herself scarce.
I was scared. I didn't know what the fuck was going on. I always felt like Thailand was restless, like the hot passion of its people was a ticking time bomb, but now it had blown up in the worst way. Was there going to be civil unrest? I knew there'd been plenty of military coups here in the past.
"Carl, NOW!"
"Yes, mom," I said, pulling out my Nokia to call my father. "Come on, Dad, pick up," I pleaded under my breath. The phone rang and rang, but no one answered.
"Where is he?" Mother shouted. "He's not picking up at his office!"
"What's happening, Mom?" I pressed, my voice filled with alarm.
She was crying, sobbing, her face red and puffy. "What do you think is happening, stupid boy? Your father's entire net worth depends on the markets. This is a financial crisis! Everything's going to hell in this fucking shithole of a country! Do you understand that?"
"I'm not stupid, Mom!" I shot back. "So the markets are down. They'll come back, won't they?"
"Carl," she hissed, standing and pointing her finger at me, her eyes blazing, perfect mascara smeared. "Everything your father has is investments in stocks and real estate here."
I just stood there in disbelief.
"It’s all based on the value of the baht!" Mother shrieked. "Don't you get it, Carlton??!" She threw her hands up, sobbing hysterically. "Our entire future, our life is tied to this shit, shit currency! If the markets fall, everything goes with them!"
She started ranting about the investments and their values. The Thai bonds, the stocks, real estate they'd bought around the city, in Phuket. Everything. Then she just collapsed onto her knees and wailed, the martini tumbling to spill from her nerveless fingers. I was angry at Mother and hated what she'd become, but seeing her so broken and pathetic, I just went down to the floor and pulled my arms around her in a hug. I didn't know what else to do.
She sobbed into my arm, clutching and clawing onto me like she was drowning. She reeked of gin, the sharp smell of her perfume and hairspray incredibly unpleasant.
"Oh God, Carl...what are we going to do? What are we going to do?"
"I...I don't know, Mom," I admitted in a whisper, rubbing her back. She was shaking.
Eventually, Mother brushed me off of her and gave me a tearfully thankful, if slightly reproachful look. She went back to watching the news, transfixed as she began calling the Foundation mothers to commiserate, to organize, to try to find answers. I was at a loss. The baht was in freefall. The more mom had explained, the worse it sounded.
How many millions of dollars did my parents have in the local banks? Millions in investments? It was staggering. Did this mean I wasn't going to Princeton anymore? Was all the money I was giving Maria going to disappear? What would happen to her, to our kids? I felt tears well up as I sat on the bottom of the stairs, my face in my hands.
I'd...I'd figure something out. I'd work in the Mindanao rice fields for her. I'd collect fucking coconuts if I had to.
I found Maria in the kitchen.
"I scared, Carl," she said, hugging her sides. I held her close.
"It'll be okay, Maria," I whispered, feeling the wetness of her eyes. I pulled back and wiped her tears. "You trust me, right?"
"Yes," she said without hesitation. "I love you, Carl."
"I'll get us home," I assured her. "I'll keep you all safe, no matter what."
Later that afternoon, I heard the screech of car tires as my father drove his luxury sedan into the driveway, nearly crashing it into the side of the house. A few minutes later, the front door slammed open and he walked in, looking haggard. What hair he had left on his balding head was a mess and his face was a shell-shocked mask of desperation.
"Hey Champ," he said tersely, breezing past me. He was dressed in a white dress shirt, collar unbuttoned and tie loosened, black pants and loafers. "Ruth!" he called out. "RUTH!"
"Where have you been, Donald?" Mother cried from the living room. "Have you been listening to the news? Tell me we can do something. Tell me!"
I edged closer to the doorway and watched in secret. My father shook his head and suddenly burst into tears. Seeing my dad, a grown man, cry like that made my heart sink deep into my chest.
Dad looked crushed, his face contorted and eyes reddening. Despite all their animosity and mistrust, Mother ran up and threw her arms around him, and they embraced.
"It's all gone, Ruth," he wept, holding her tight.
"What are we going to do?" Mother whimpered. "Oh fuck, Donald..."
I recoiled from the door and ran up to my room. I felt like a little kid again, despite everything, sitting on my bed and hiding with my Walkman around my ears, drowning out the terror all around me.
My mother and father went into a flurry of activity that day. Given an awful, existential threat, they pulled together to try to find solutions. Dad was making a series of frantic calls on the landline, talking loudly and pacing, trying to save whatever he could. Mom was on her cell phone, screaming at our people to cash out and liquidate anything left. Neither of them had spoken to me directly since the morning, but that was fine; I just wanted to stay out of their way.
When the evening rolled around, Maria had made us some delicious smelling phad Thai, khao soi, and steamed barramundi on banana leaf for dinner. When I went to check on my parents and call them to take a break and come eat, I found both of them asleep from exhaustion on the couch, holding each other, papers, binders, and vital documents strewn about the coffee table in front of them. The TV had the CNN International newscast playing on mute while my father had a collection of 80s songs emanating quietly from the fancy sound system. His favorite since we moved to Thailand was currently filling the silence of the room.
‘...One night in Bangkok and the world's your oyster
The bars are temples, but the pearls ain't free
You'll find a god in every golden cloister
And if you're lucky, then the god's a she
I can feel an angel sliding up to me...’
My parents had always seemed so in control of their lives, of their destinies and mine. Now I saw that they were as powerless in the face of this thing. They didn't know what was going to happen any more than I did. It was really scary. I frowned as I stood there, taking pity on them both. At least this disaster looked like it was bringing them back together in a strange way.
'...One night in Bangkok makes the hard man humble
Not much between despair and ecstasy
One night in Bangkok and the tough guys tumble
Can't be too careful with your company
I can feel the devil walkin' next to me...'
Maria and I ate in silence in the kitchen, the only sounds being the scrapes of our chopsticks and the clink of porcelain bowls. She'd already eaten while preparing dinner, and it was mostly for me, although she did share the meal and take a few bites here and there. Maria looked a little sad, and I reached across the island to hold her hand. A worried frown creased her beautiful face. There wasn't anything to say though.
Exhausted ourselves from a day of worry, we cleaned up and I helped Maria get ready for bed. My parents woke and barely ate, working well into the night. After they finally went to bed, I came to see Maria and we made love gently to comfort each other. I held her naked frame close as we spooned, our bodies beaded with sweat, my hand caressing her gravid swell. I lost myself with the soft warmth of her flesh, the wonderful smell of her skin and long raven hair, the gentle motions of our children under my palm, and her rhythmic, feminine breathing. I hated to creep back into my room, to leave her at the crack of dawn, but we weren't free yet.
Over the coming days, the economy went from bad to worse. The baht had completely collapsed. People were out protesting in the streets. I just tried to keep Maria calm and let her know she was loved. For some reason, I felt like the stress might make her go into fucking labor or something. The media was filled with dire warnings and speculation; it was the only thing Bangkok expats were talking about. Most of my friends had already left the country, but those lost souls that remained like me were either being sheltered from the truth or freaking out themselves.
It was all so surreal, like we were all living in a bad dream. My mother and father were still trying to save the family's wealth – Dad's contracts had evaporated almost overnight, leaving him without a job. I'd heard mention of prospects in Shanghai and Beijing, with China still being relatively stable and firms offering lucrative posts for people like him.
With two days until the flight, Mother was increasingly erratic. She'd go into a panic at each new development in what the world was starting to call the Asian Financial Crisis. It all came to a head when I went upstairs after breakfast and cartoons to find my mom rifling through my room. She was in some pastel Chanel loungewear and slippers, her hair pulled back into a severe bun, eyes wild, motions frenzied.
"What the hell, Mom!" I shouted at the blatant invasion of my privacy. She was dumping my backpack out onto the floor and looking at the clothes strewn about the bed.
"Your passport, Carl,” she snapped in a condescending bark. “We need it in case we have to evacuate! Where the fuck did you put it in this pigsty of a room?" Her voice rose to a near shriek.
I just stood there, dumbstruck at how crazy things were getting. Before I could stop her, she was pulling out my bed and checking behind it when her whole body froze. Mother hunched over the corner of the frame and used a fallen pencil to fish something out with a gasp.
It was one of Maria's black maternity panties, encrusted with both our dried cum.
Mother’s face blanched, mouth working with revulsion and horror as she stared at the incriminating piece of clothing like it were a dead animal. "Oh god, this is disgusting! Carl, did you have a girl here??"
I was terrified, frozen with panic. My heart pounded in my ears. I couldn't find words to speak. It must have happened weeks ago; I didn't even remember. We must have gone naked into the shower after and fucked again somewhere else...of all the careless fucking ways to finally get caught, this? SHIT!
As my mom scrutinized the offending piece of fabric, her brow furrowed, eyes narrowing. Like a car crash in slow motion, I could see her putting the pieces together and I was powerless to stop it. Her jaw worked silently. I knew that expression. It was like a mother cobra, coiled tense and ready to strike.
"...these are Maria's, aren't they."
Of course she hadn't seen it earlier. Wouldn't have ever seen it if it wasn't for this. Mother was so consumed by the idea of a perfect family and a perfect son that if she'd actually paid attention to the real me instead of an idealized work in progress she'd have seen it right in front of her eyes from the start. Mother's nostrils flared as she got a good stale whiff of Maria's cunt and my cum. She reared back in disgust, throwing the panties on the ground and wiping her hands on the bedspread.
"Jesus Christ, Carl!" she snarled, baring her teeth.
"I...I..." I stammered, not knowing what to say, my mouth opening and closing uselessly.
"Did you...oh gooooddddd..." she suddenly moaned, her voice dropping an octave as the shame and outrage dawned on her. She clutched her chest and reeled like she was struck by a physical blow.
“With her…the help…?”
Then her eyes widened more and her voice dropped to a hiss of a whisper as her mind spun and lashed out in horror at the next frantic, audacious leap of logic.
"
Are her children...? Nhh...NO! No nono...ooh nooo!"
She stood up and faced me, her hands shaking as she balled them into fists. The shock and betrayal in her bale, awful glare was unbearable. She searched my eyes, my face, but she could see the truth without me even speaking a lie.
She knew.
It looked like Mother was going to scream and cry and wail and throttle the life out of me, but instead, she squared her jaw and just slapped me across the face as hard as she could. Her eyes closed as she breathed heavily through her nose, trembling. I put a hand to my face, my skin stinging, eyes burning with humiliation. Mother steeled herself, but she still stared at me like she wanted to kill me.
"No. No, no no...I don't believe it," Mother said firmly, though her voice shook. But I knew what she really meant was 'I won't believe it.'
Her eyes bored into me as they flew open, filled with rage and hate and pain and mortification. Her jaw worked as her fingernails dug into her palms. She started pacing, that porcelain mask cracking as self-preserving denial flooded in. "This never happened. Never...Never happened...you're just a sick little boy who stole her underwear. That's all..."
She went to the door, then stopped, stiffening as her hand turned the knob. She nodded, as if her sense of equilibrium was slowly being restored.
"You're just going back to America and you're going to Princeton and you're never going to see that woman ever again."
"YOU CAN'T CONTROL ME ANYMORE!" I suddenly howled at her, stupidly, uselessly. "IT'S MY LIFE!"
"DON'T. NOT ANOTHER FUCKING. WORD." Mother hissed. "You will never tell a soul about this," she said, her voice barely a whisper now. "Never, do you understand? No one can ever know. Not even your father."
She gave me an awful, unhinged look then, even worse than when she was on the floor and broken with the prospect of losing our family fortune. Mother was trying to deny it, but she knew the truth, deep down. I’d hurt her, betrayed her to the core. She left and slammed the door behind her, leaving me to collapse on my bed, my heart racing, blood rushing to my head, tears heavy in my eyes.
We had each other at an impasse, a bitter stalemate. My parents could recover from a financial crisis, battered and wounded, but they'd rise again. A scandal like this, though? Nothing was more important to Mother than her reputation. It was like a nuclear standoff. I could burn everything down, tell the world, and destroy her. She could cut me off, disown, and destroy me. But Mother had more to lose. I had to hope that this would remain a deep, dark family secret, and just like her paranoid delusions about my father, stay in her poisoned mind. I’d never admitted to anything. In a way, it was a victory over her that she could never take away.
Me, though? I had my life to live, and I wasn't going to live it in fear of her.
I didn't see my mother again before we left – she was probably medicating herself in her bedroom with Valium and French red and who knew what else. I decided not to tell Maria what’d happened. She didn't need to know or freak out about it in her condition.
I felt terrible going to my dad about my allowance for the trip with everything that was going on, but this wasn't going to work without money. The evening before we left, he was so distracted, so distraught about what was happening that he just opened the safe in his study and started counting out hundreds. Two, five, seven, nine, over ten thousand dollars in cash that he packed into an envelope and gave to me.
"That's for the trip and to settle into Princeton," he sighed, looking worn down, a beaten man on the edge. "Don't tell your mom I gave you this much."
"Thanks, Dad," I forced a smile, my heart glowing with his generosity, even though it might have been borne of sympathy and desperation – or he was just buying my affection and loyalty over Mother. "Are you guys going to be okay?"
"I'll manage, Champ," he smiled sadly, clapping my shoulder. "I think your mother and I are turning a corner. It's been very difficult for all of us, but there’s a good chance I'll land this new Goldman gig in Beijing. Fingers crossed and we'll get back to where we were in a few years. Goodbye retirement!" he laughed bitterly. "It'll be tough, but we'll be alright. And hey, maybe we can come and visit you next year in Princeton. Your mom and I haven't been back in forever."
I gave my dad a big, loving hug. "Thanks Dad."
"Have fun in Hong Kong," he laughed. “Enjoy the handover.”
****
The fasten seatbelt sign dinged as the Thai Airways 737 shuddered from sudden turbulence. Maria was sitting next to me as I held her hand, leaning over to softly kiss her knuckles. She was wearing a light aqua empire waist maternity dress that went down just past her knees, quietly kicking her low-top Converse sneakers. Maria had her long, silky black hair pulled up into a ponytail, smiling at my lovingly as she stroked the taut, big globe of her protruding belly, secured with the buckle across her hips and under its swell. She looked radiant and excited, if a little shy at all the luxury and attention we were receiving in the Business class cabin.
Sitting in 7A and B, the atmosphere was a tranquil, gentle retreat from the desperate clamor of Bangkok’s Don Mueang International Airport. The mood was tense and security was tightened, but nothing had fallen apart yet. Still, I felt immediate relief once I had her in my arms and we took off, leaving the seething, powder-keg streets of Bangkok behind. The 2-2 configuration seats were spacious and totally unlike the dense, uncomfortable cram of Economy sardine rows stretching behind the cabin’s compartmentalizing curtain. Each seat was like a plush throne, wrapped in the deep blue and purple patterned heritage of Thai Airways. Maria had cooed over the amenities, with the generous legroom, fold-out table, and reclining footrest. She was startled when the stewardesses fawned over her with pillows, hot scented towels, snacks, and pre-flight drinks. They all paid her special attention in her deeply gravid state, constantly asking how she was with their Cheshire Thai smiles if she needed anything. While luxury travel was the mundane standard for me, my Filipina lover was starstruck by a taste of Star Alliance opulence. She looked bewildered when we were given a 4-course dinner menu, from canapés to Chilean sea bass to compote.
The cabin's hushed tones allowed for quiet conversation, slowly flowing into the beginning of our multi-course meal. The clink of glassware and the subtle shifting of passengers in their spacious seats soon accompanied the ever-present hum of the engines. Maria was both delighted and fixated by the char-grilled fillet mignon that arrived on a real plate and tablecloth in front of her, served with a rich truffle-infused demi-glace, garlic mashed potatoes, grilled asparagus spears, and cherry tomatoes on the vine. She poked at it and cut off a slice to chew appreciatively.
“M-mm! Not bad,” she said with a cheek still full of half-masticated beef. “Need more flavor but really juicy! How they fit kitchen on the plane?”
"Dunno," I grinned, enjoying mine. "Can't believe it's airplane food, right?"
“If I cook it, I use more pepper and garlic,” she declared with certainty, wagging her fork.
“Maybe you should start your own restaurant or something,” I offered. “Show these guys how it’s done.”
Maria chatted excitedly through our meal about her homeland and her village while an attentive stewardess collected our used tableware. Another delivered a rich, creamy slice of crème caramel, topping it with fresh strawberries and whipped cream for us. We fed each other bites, so stupidly, wonderfully in love. It was this moment of calm after all the stress of the past few months. We were finally safe. We had money. We had each other and our children. I leaned over to gently kiss Maria on the lips, which she shyly accepted before beaming at me and nuzzling into my shoulder.
“Hey, everything’s fine now,” I reminded her with a whisper against her ear. “We’re free.” I stroked my woman’s hair, deeply pleased that she was no longer our family’s hired help. She was so much more than that, and I was incredibly cosmically fucking lucky that a recovering teenage dipshit like me could have a woman like her.
“Yes,” she nodded, relaxing against me as if those were the words she needed to hear. “No more like Cinderella in storybook, ah? Now just Beauty and the Beast!” Maria giggled.
“Yeah, if you’re talking about my dick, maybe,” I said out the corner of my mouth.
She smirked and kissed me on the cheek, snuggling under my arm and closing her eyes, sighing in contentment. "Mhm. You big beast dick. I wan suck him soon," she purred quietly. "I miss him. I so hot, baby...miss you cum," she whispered in my ear, nibbling at my earlobe and making my cheeks flush hot.
"We're on the plane," I warned her under my breath as she kissed me again.
"We get offplane, mmm, then I suck you big horse-diick all way back to Davao," Maria declared, grinning at me with that beautiful, insatiably mischievous light in her eyes.
I was painfully hard and trying not to squirm in my seat.
My broodmare just laughed quietly at my expression, licking the corner of her lips at my expense. I tried to relax, my cock throbbing, wanting desperately to rut the hell out of her. I contemplated us joining the Mile High club but there was no fucking way we’d both fit in the lavatory with her huge pregnant bump. It'd have to wait. We'd be in the Philippines soon enough.
The lights went out in the cabin and a hush settled. There was the soft glare of reading lamps and the muted glow of screens dotting the darkness, voices giving way to the thrum of the 737’s transit. Disposable earphones worn on her crown of jet black hair, Maria watched the in-flight entertainment systems that lowered from the overhead compartments, flickering with a selection of movies, music, and the moving map that tracked our journey to Manilla.
It'd been such a surreal day. It started with me loading Maria's suitcase and bags into a taxi early in the morning, with my dad showing up to see her off. Mother feigned illness up in the bedroom for her absence, which was probably for the best. My father slipped Maria an envelope with some gratuity for her years of service and the impending birth, and she hugged him, crying softly for his kindness. Our own lingering embrace was an awkward, chaste one, before our maid left the villa house forever. I followed in the afternoon after saying my goodbyes – a slap on the back from my father and a sobbing silence through a locked bedroom door from my mother. Dad had promised monthly wire transfers to my account for living expenses at Princeton, but beyond that, I was effectively on my own.
As my life shifted into unknown territory, that cold, strange thrill in my chest was back. This time, though, it felt good. A little scary, hurtling into the unknown at 530 miles per hour, but for the first time, I wasn’t alone. Maria’s touch grounded me as much as mine steadied her. Our futures weren’t singular anymore.
***
The Boeing 737 banked gently to the right, giving us a view of the sprawling, pulsating metropolis of Manila as we began our descent, its orange lights shimmering below a haze of heat and pollution. For me, it was my first glimpse of the Philippines, but for Maria, it was an emotional homecoming after three years of hardship. She was teary-eyed as she welcomed me to her country with the crush of her lips against mine.
As the aircraft’s wheels made jolting contact with the runway of Ninoy Aquino International Airport, Maria was hugging my arm with giddiness, a huge smile on her face. The plane taxied to the gate, the seatbelt sign chimed off, and the cabin bustled with the anticipation of deboarding.
Stepping into the jet bridge we were immediately enveloped in the hot, humid air; a stark, blasting contrast to the cool, regulated climate of the plane. Maria inhaled deeply with closed eyes. It was subtly different from Bangkok's but still a tropical, fetid mix of exhaust and distant jungle. With exasperation, my Filipina shooed away the good intentions of the stewardesses who tried to offer her a wheelchair.
"I walk just fine!" she huffed, a hand on the top of her bulging stomach, another on her back. "Buntis ako, hindi walang magawa! My husbaand take bags. Salamat, salamat!"
Soon the wheels of the suitcases I pulled clicked rhythmically against the polished floor of the terminal, blending with the cacophony of hurried footsteps and the low rumble of luggage trolleys. The cool air provided a brief respite from the persistent heat that clung to our skin like a second layer.
Past the bored bureaucracy of Immigration, the main concourse buzzed with frenetic energy. It felt like the Financial Crisis wasn’t here yet. Travelers, from wide-eyed tourists to worldly businessmen, all moved in an unceasing migration of departure and arrival. Voices called out in Tagalog, offering warm welcomes and heartfelt farewells. Stories ended and others began here, all under the vast canopy of the airport's high ceilings – ours was just one of a hundred thousand that day, but I liked to think it was the most special.
Amidst the ebb and flow of the crowd, I could hear the occasional trill of birds that had found their way inside. Children rode atop the suitcases, eyes bright with the excitement of travel, while parents talked among themselves, interspersed with laughs and the occasional admonition of a straying toddler. Watching them, Maria couldn't help but smile at the sight of the kids, caressing her bump with a tender expression.
"Carl, I hungry," she suddenly announced as we neared the check-in counters for the next leg of our trip.
"Again? Oh, uh...sure," I said as I slowed our train of luggage to a stop, used to her cravings. "I guess we have time."
My woman walked with purpose, with me and our bags in tow. Her arms cradled her swollen belly protectively, barking at people in the crowd who got too close. “Ouiii! Ilipat ito! Buntis na dumarating!”
Maria really stood out as she went down the main concourse, a radiant, sexual beacon that made me proud and a little turned on to be seen with her. Maria looked every part an Asian maternity model as her hips swung with confidence, drawing attention with every step, her feet barely leaving the floor as she wove her way through the crowds, a determined look on her face.
The open area was ringed with eateries, but one in particular commanded Maria’s attention: the bright red and yellow sign of Jollibee. The jingle played over the store's speakers seemed to make Maria's eyes sparkle. As we joined a short line of passengers for an 8pm indulgence, I scanned the menu skeptically.
“This looks a lot like McDonald’s.” I deadpanned, my hand on the small of her back.
"Don't be silly," my lover replied, sniffing as if I was being purposefully obstinate. "Jollibee much better! Their Jolly Spaghetti, wow!"
Maria ordered with the familiarity of an old friend – the Chickenjoy bucket with extra gravy, a Jolly Spaghetti, two Yumburgers, fries, and a peach mango pie. We found a spot amidst the airport Jollibee's colorful plastic chairs and tables to settle in. Maria unwrapped a Yumburger and handed it to me, urging me to take my first bite and promising me it was way better than any McChicken. I honestly didn't like it that much but tried not to broadcast it. Maria grinned with amusement and dug in with happiness, telling me about her rare childhood trips with her sister to the Jollibee in Davao.
"We don't have this in my village," Maria sighed contentedly, comforting our unborn children with a gentle caress of her pregnant abdomen, so large that it spread her legs while sitting down. "But we have best fish, chicken, pig and sweet mango you ever taste. When we get back to Barangay Alon, we will eat veeeerrrry good."
"All you think about is food," I laughed.
"Because I have hungry babies!" Maria laughed in reply, patting the sides of her swollen abdomen. She bit her bottom lip at me in that sensual, sly way of hers, giving her hips a couple of lewd little thrusts in the food court chair. "I think about sex too. Lots of fuck with my husbaand big white horse diick."
"Yeah, well, you'd better be ready when we get to Davao," I laughed, giving her thigh a firm squeeze. "I'll be in a room with you every night from now on."
****
It was late when we finally reached Davao. A far cry from the capital airports of Bangkok or Manilla, the terminal was an unassuming, low-slung structure of faded paint and weathered brick, filled with a sleepy ambiance and the unhurried activity of its night staff. Dimly lit with fluorescent lights flickering here and there, it was a totally different tempo than the wild, vibrant hustle of Manilla. I could tell Maria was sleepy, but her excitement at being back in Mindanao after so many years of being an overseas Filipino worker, and her joy at having me here with her, kept her chatting exuberantly and jostling around in her heavily pregnant state.
"Davao! Welcome, welcome, ah?" Maria purred at me through a wide grin, practically hanging on my arm. "You see how different here! Don't worry, I take care of you."
Through the sliding doors and into the street, the smell and humid midnight broil of the Filipino tropics hit me – the earthy scent of rain-soaked grass and palm leaves, lingering jasmine, the acrid burn of diesel, the oily lure of strange food stands, and the faintness of the distant ocean. Past the drab-colored sea of drivers and child beggars, with shouting faces and waving hands, we crossed the busy street to a herd of airport buses, one of them taking us to our hotel for the night.
As soon as the door to our room closed behind us, Maria was in my arms and pressing me against the wall with the jangling thud of our bags hitting the floor. She was pulling me down, lips pressed to mine while her pregnant belly and full tits mashed into my chest. Maria pushed her tongue into my mouth, her soft moans of longing and relief muffled by the kiss. She took my face in her hands to bury it against her pregnant bust, pulling her straps down to bare her shoulders, then her teats with their fat, hard nipples jutting out for me to nurse – awaiting the attention of my lips, tongue, and teeth. When I came up for air after draining her sweet milk, Maria's hands went for my crotch, her eyes filled with need when she looked into mine, slowly sliding to her knees.
"Oh shit," I breathed, petting her head. "You don't waste time, do you? You're not tired?"
"I no tired," she purred, nuzzling her cheek against my rapidly stiffening dick, a lascivious smirk on her face as she eyed the outline of my swelling manhood in my cargo pants. Maria pulled the waistband of my boxers down to expose my hardening white cock. Maria took it into her eager hand, stiff and hot in her slender, nimble brown fingers, the big head already flushed as I grew harder and longer, quickly throbbing to my full length and thickness.
My lover’s greedy mouth was around it almost immediately, a suckling heaven of lewd, unrelenting pleasure shorting out my brain as Maria sucked my dick with all the enthusiasm she'd promised and more.
I stroked the back of my mare’s head with both hands as she bobbed slowly, letting her warm, wet tongue work me over and her soft lips stroke me. My beautiful Filipina sighed in contentment at the taste and the fullness of my young cock, her dark almond-shaped eyes rolling up at me with the wanton look she always wore when sucking my dick. Maria loved being on her knees, making her husband happy. I savored the sight of her full, pregnant Asian tits hanging free as she took me in again and again, a hungry look in her eyes. I knew how much she loved drinking my cum but her need became too great as she got distracted, hand between the crouched squat of her legs, desperately rubbing her covered pussy.
"Take your clothes off," I murmured.
With a knowing smile, Maria leaned up from my dick and let it pop free from her mouth, standing with an alluring, sinuous slowness to her motions, swaying her flared hips and making a show of it for me. She slowly lifted the hem of her maternity dress up and over her big pregnant belly and swollen tits. My lover's dark areolae, thick and puffy like eraser nubs, dragged over the fabric as it pulled away.
She reached back to unhook her bra with practiced fingers and let her taut, engorged breasts bounce and fully spill out of the cups. Maria ran her hands along the sides of her large teats, watching my eyes and cock, my manhood twitching and aching to feel the hot embrace of her hairy mare pussy around me.
My woman’s hands continued to glide downwards onto her round, full stomach topped with its popped-out navel and the hem of her maternity panties, dark from her leaking arousal. The thin, cotton fabric strained over her prominent labia, pussy so wet that I could clearly see it outlined against her panties. Maria took two steps to the nearest seat, turned, and bent down to present herself to me, a mischievous smile on her face. She peeked back over her shoulder, giving me a full view of her little round pregnant ass and engorged cunt.
My big dick was throbbing at full mast and pointed straight at her beckoning sex.
Maria teased me, biting her lower lip as she spread her feet wider apart, her belly so large, so gravid and distended between her legs. She bent further over, making her sexy ass spread open a little, like she were offering me my choice of holes. Maria took her index finger, ran it slowly and deliberately over her wet slit, and sucked it into her mouth with a moan.
I watched, entranced, gripping the base of my cock as it began to drool precum onto the carpeted hotel room floor.
My mare pulled down her panties, revealing her furry pussy, swollen, veiny lips glistening with wetness, black hair slick with her juices. The folds were already pulsing hungrily, as if her sex needed my big white cock to fill it. A glistening string of her desire lewdly connected the panties and her cunt as Maria slipped out of them and let them drop around her ankles. With a grunt, she widened her stance even more in preparation to take my big length.
I could smell her pussy – musky, raw, fertile, woman. The sight of Maria presenting was more than I could handle, and I closed the distance between us as she turned her head and grinned lifting her ass and bracing for it. I pulled off my clothes and unceremoniously hilted her in one savage, brutal thrust, gripping her wide hips like a man possessed.
"Oh my goooott," Maria hissed as her head lolled back, a dreamy smile spreading on her lips from the sensation of being stretched wide by my dick. "You white horse cock feels so good...uunghh..."
She moaned in delight as she felt me pushing against her cervix with each stroke, her pregnant stomach bouncing with the rhythm. It was heaven being inside my beautiful Filipina's hot, tight cunt, but she was already crying out, the heat of her pussy sucking at my length, making it throb. Neither of us could last long as we selfishly ached to quench our pent-up lusts, fucking her deep and frantic like a rutting stud just to fill her with seed, my heavy, swollen balls slapping against the outside of her cunt. Maria’s pussy clenched tight, starving for the cum it had been denied for the duration of our travels. My Filipina’s hips gyrated, making me gasp with pleasure, her head turned towards me so I could see her open, hungry mouth as I fucked her from behind. I was lost in the ecstasy of the moment. I came hard just as she did, her cervix milking and squeezing every last drop out of my balls as it sprayed deep inside her fertile cunt.
We fucked three more times that night before we passed out on the bed, Maria urging me on with the warning that we might not be able to satisfy ourselves so openly when we got to her village, not before the wedding. When we were done, we were covered in sweat and the room stank of the sweet spiciness of our sex, thighs sticky with our shared desire. Our fingers were locked as we lay together on the queen bed, my Pinay’s small hand holding my big palm in hers.
"Tomorrow," Maria murmured, the feel of my hot sperm oozing out of her womb and dribbling onto the sheets making her shiver with lust as she spoke, "my family will know you are my man."
I put my hand possessively over her large belly, smiling with hooded eyes. One look at her hugely pregnant state was all they needed to see.
Maria chuckled, turning in to snuggle against me, my hands going to the sides of her stomach to hold my gravid, pregnant lover against me. My lover gave my arm a little squeeze while her warm, brown eyes looked deeply into mine. Maria she leaned forward to cover her mouth with mine, kissing me tenderly.
"You sleep. I need to piss."
I laid back on the bed as she left me with a saucy little grin, waddling in that sexy, knocked-up way of hers into the bathroom to close the door. The sound of a toilet lid slamming down and her stream hitting water was a familiar one.
When she returned, my sexy little broodmare gave my spent cock a gentle stroke before letting me go for the night, our exhaustion finally overcoming the desperate need for each other. Maria passed out soon after to snuggle and cling heavily to me with a pillow between her legs. While she snored lightly, I stared up at the ceiling, unable to sleep with all the excitement and anxiety racing through my head. Tomorrow would be another big, life-changing day.
****
The journey from Davao to Maria's village of Barangay Alon started in this private car that we rented to make the trip easier on Maria in her condition. I piled all the luggage into the trunk of the old Honda Civic while she negotiated with the driver in lively, sassy Tagalog.
"Okay! He know the way," my lover beamed. "Maybe 6 hour, it's a long drive to the village."
Maria and her oversized pregnant belly settled into the backseat as the driver got into the front, a dark-skinned Filipino with a wispy goatee, wife-beater, shorts and flip flops, an old and worn baseball cap on his head. A Marlboro filter dangled from his broken lips as he looked back at me and Maria with a little smile. The car's interior was fairly clean but smelled like old sweat, incense, and cigarettes, but I didn't mind too much – nothing a rolled-down window wouldn't fix. As the car coughed and ground into gear, the stained-glass image of a trio of saints jangled from the driver’s rearview mirror while an eclectic crowd of faded baseball player bobbleheads nodded frenetically.
The car rattled as it pulled out from in front of the hotel and into the vibrant chaos of Davao, honking and lurching through swarms of scooters, carts, pedestrians, and a jumble of traffic. The city was a lot poorer than Bangkok, a dirt-brown and concrete sprawl of have-nots eking out an existence with a joyful hustle, working hard to provide for their families even though they had so little themselves – with everything else slurped up by people like my parents.
Or me.
For probably the first time, I felt self-conscious as we drove through the congested traffic, jostling with garish jeepneys and vans painted with comic book characters, bedraggled, syndicated child beggars clamoring at our windows whenever we stopped at an intersection for too long. Some of them laughed, smearing and smacking the glass, others too strung out to do anything but stare with hollow eyes. One of the older girls, maybe 10, had a baby on her back. Poverty was everywhere, even though the people seemed so cheerful.
Trying to see past my own towering privilege and entitlement was a scary thing. If I looked too deep inside myself, I'd come face to face with just how much I was like my parents. Maybe worse. It made me feel ashamed, especially sitting next to the love of my life – this was her tribe, her people. I wasn't any better than them, just born luckier, like our kids would be. As we drove through the shouting, pleading crowd of urchins, I squeezed Maria's hand. She had a sad look but smiled at me reassuringly, somehow knowing what I was thinking.
"You know," Maria said softly, looking out the window, "after Sir-Madaam find out I pregnant, Madaam wan give me three hundred thousand baht to quit and go back to Angeles City. She no tell Sir."
My eyes widened. "Shit, that's a lot of money."
"Yes. Much more than one year salary," Maria admitted. "But I say no, I want stay, work. I care you family. Madaam hate me, but maybe she know then I not try get money from Sir for baby."
I was silent.
"I don't care money, I stay because I love you, because you good man. I not tell you before because you get mad. Now we home, it no matter anymore. You here with me. Our babies have they daddy."
I felt a brief swell of renewed loathing towards my mother, but that kind of shitty, clandestine deal was totally in character for her. And Maria was right. It didn't matter anymore. Mother didn't matter anymore.
Maria held my hand to her protruding bump and kissed my cheek. She stroked my cheek with the backs of her fingers as we left their smiling, hopeless kids behind.
I could feel the flutters and kicks of her gravid womb under my palm as the twins reacted to my touch, but all I could think about were those kids and their hungry eyes. Is that where my children would be if I hadn't changed? If she was alone, without any money? It was a heartbreaking thought, and only steeled my resolve to do the right thing by my new little family, now and forever.
"No need feel guilty, Carl," my woman whispered to me, knowing me so well. "It okay."
It wasn't all poverty. As we left the crumbling squalor of the city, Davao’s concrete maze gave way to a rolling green landscape of hills, palms, terraces, and farms. Rice paddies in every stage of green stretched as far as the eye could see. Some had been harvested, creating brown and barren squares of mud. Some had only recently been planted and were covered by water and green sprouts. We passed a water buffalo wallowing in the middle of one field, grazing on the rich grass, watched by its caretaker in a traditional straw hat and loincloth. A rutted dirt road ran in front of them, bisecting the main road and cutting through the terraced fields on its way up the steep slope of a forested mountain.
The highway, if you could call it that, was lined on either side by banana, mango, papaya, and avocado trees along with small shacks. The landscape reminded me of the hill tribes in Thailand we saw on school trips, the little villages that were scattered over the mountains in remote places like Chiang Rai. The road we were on was the only developed thing out here, but it gave way to sections of dirt or gravel as we drove deeper into the countryside, past motorcycles, jeepneys, farmer pedestrians and their livestock.
There were no towns on the road, just little pockets of huts clustered around little roadside marketplaces with their nipa sheds. The deeper into the rural countryside we went, the better the air smelled, rushing through my hair as I leaned onto my arm on the sill. Maria chatted excitedly with me about growing up here as a child, about her family, and her village. The hours passed by and we listened to Vincent's mixtape together in contented quiet, the Walkman headset shared between us.
'One baby to another says: 'I'm lucky to have met you'
I don't care what you think unless it is about me
It is now my duty to completely drain you
I travel through a tube and end up in your infection...'
I wondered idlly what it would be like to meet Maria's family. From what she'd told me about them, her parents were kind but deeply religious people. Maria's father was a fisherman who'd had a debilitating heart attack and couldn't work a boat anymore, while her mother had to take care of him almost constantly. All his medical care was funded by Maria’s work as a housekeeper.
Joy was a high school senior now, like I had been, herself having just turned 18. She went to some low-end boarding school in Angeles City, with her tuition and living expenses also covered by her older sister’s wage slavery. It seemed like an impossibly unfair burden for Maria, with the family’s hopes pinned on Joy to go to university and get a high-paying job to lift them out of poverty. It was hard for me to wrap my mind around it all; my parents threw around the kind of money that would change their lives every weekend.
I felt anxious at the pressure of making a good first impression. Maria’s mom and dad might despise me for knocking up their daughter or something. I’d probably have an easier time with Joy. She’d arrive tomorrow, in anticipation of the wedding and the birth.
Maria sensed my tension, stirring against me. I looked into her eyes, so dark and sweet and loving as her head rested on my shoulder. Her slender hand went to my thigh as she nuzzled into my neck.
'Chew your meat for you
Pass it back and forth
In a passionate kiss
From my mouth to yours
I…like…you…'
We stopped for lunch in one of the many tiny villages we'd passed, where a friendly, aging couple ran a small store and café. As we sat on a bamboo mat on the porch, the old woman brought us sticky rice, fish soup, and satsuma oranges, smiling with big gums while we ate and everyone stared at us. The only one who wasn’t watching was her husband the cook, too busy whacking the shit out of a poorly plucked chicken with his cleaver to care.
Somewhere during the next few hours of the journey to the northwest coast where my lover's village was, the road just dropped off to gravel and lush green mountains rose all around us. Our driver was leaning on the horn as we crawled around tight switchbacks. The road was so bad that there were no cars or even scooters around. I thought we'd end up careening into a fucking river or down a steep bank more than once as he drove too close to the edge or too fast on the gravelly surface, but Maria just laughed, her voice echoing down the valleys.
"This the best part of the trip!" she whooped.
Finally, as the afternoon dragged shadows from the trees all around us, we turned a corner and saw the ocean and its gorgeous miles of beaches below. A little wooden sign announced we'd arrived at Maria’s village of Barangay Alon and the downward incline of the road smoothed out. My Filipina leaned forward between the driver and me and pointed the way to her home, grinning at me excitedly, dark, exotic eyes wide as the wind blew through her long raven hair, wild from the open windows.
"We here!"
I had my first view of Barangay Alon as we wound down the road leading into town, a large, amorphous, shanty village clustered at the bottom of the hill and running all the way into the surf. A dilapidated wharf stretched into the sea, filled with colorful bangkafishing boats with their narrow hulls and bamboo outriggers. The beautiful beach beckoned with its white sand and crystal green-blue water, the shore filled with laughing children playing with a skinny dog, chasing each other through the shallow surf. Closer to the mountains on a plateau, I spotted the horse farms that Maria had described from her youth, but they looked mostly abandoned, with just a few horses grazing behind fences in disrepair. Haphazardly placed power and telephone lines went between the range and into the village.
There was zero logic to the arrangement of the nipa houses or the roads that connected them, but Maria guided us with certainty to her family home, her heart in her eyes as the car stopped. The house was just like every other nipa hut on the road, an A-frame of split bamboo walls and a palm thatch roof. But as we climbed out of the car, I could see a Filipino man and woman in their late 40s waiting for us on the porch. They were leathery and calloused from a lifetime of hard work in the sun. Both looked much older than their years, but I could see in their lined faces a faint reflection of the woman I knew and loved. The Floreses watched with mixed trepidation and curiosity as I started to pull our bags out of the car. My woman approached to stand in front of her parents, holding her hands over the big, rounded swell of her pregnancy.
I recognized Maria's mother, Liwanag, from the photos I'd seen. Her face was warm and friendly but guarded as she moved to hug her daughter. Maria's father, Benigno, watched us in stony, judgmental silence. He had a shallow chest under his loose white tank top, shoulders curving inwards as if bearing an invisible weight. Benigno had an unhealthy complexion, eyes sunken, hands clutching a cane. He glared at me warily while Liwanag held Maria's face in her hands, clucking about her daughter’s advanced pregnancy and the twins inside her as she choked up in emotional Tagalog. Maria turned to her father and his dour frown softened somewhat as she fawned over him.
I just kept a respectful distance and tried to smile. The driver finished helping me get everything out of the trunk and after I paid him with a generous tip, he disappeared back up the road. As I stood there, I smelled the salt on the cool breeze from the ocean, the mild wind keeping the tropical heat to warm, background buzz. I felt completely out of place, yet there was a strange rightness at where I was then, there Maria, no longer in my world, but hers.
Finally, she motioned for me to come join her.
I introduced myself in well-rehearsed Tagalog. I stumbled over some of the words, my big grin faltering, but I got through it:
"Tito, Tita, magandang araw po. Ako po si Carl, ang...um...kasintahan po ng inyong anak. L-lubos po akong nagagalak at...may paggalang na maki...kilala kayo." I think I got most of the greeting out without sounding like a total asshole. It was something along the lines of, 'Dad, Mom, it’s an honor to meet you, I’m Carl, Maria's fiancé. You have a lovely home.'
Liwanag was delighted and even Benigno seemed pleasantly surprised at my clumsy but heartfelt introduction. Maria’s mother was just as tall as her daughter, her long braids streaked with gray as she shook my hand enthusiastically with a smile. She pulled me in for a hug that smelled faintly of fried rice, coconut, and dried fish.
Benigno didn't say much and just looked at me with his hard, dark eyes. Maria held my arm tightly as she looked at me proudly, as though my words had impressed him. Benigno just reached out for a firm, extremely calloused handshake, nodding with an expression that said he'd tolerate my presence. For now.
After a glance shared between Liwanag and Benigno, Maria's mother offered me a small knot of clean cloth containing fresh salt and garlic. "Malugod po namin kayong tinatanggap sa aming tahanan," she said. Welcome to our home.
"Salamat po," I replied with a respectful smile as I took the ceremonial gift. I was really glad that Maria prepared me for this Game of Thrones-type provincial shit, but despite the pressure, I was still all in and determined to win them over. I pocketed the pouch and hefted one of our large suitcases to lay out in front of them.
"Gifts!" I grinned in English. A new rice cooker, an electric fan, a radio, and a blender.
"Lahat ito, regalo para sa pamilya!" Maria told her parents excitedly with a big smile. Her mother and father were dumbfounded, their eyes going between the gifts and Maria as their daughter happily wrapped an arm around my waist.
I dragged all our luggage into the large nipa hut, which seemed nicer and more modern than the other ones we'd passed. Clearly some the money she'd sent home had gone into renovations and additions.
I entered to an open room with a sturdy table, chairs, a fridge, a large double bed covered in bright patchwork bedsheets and comforters, and a cabinet with a big boxy TV with rabbit-ear antennas. There were two closed doors and a third that led into a tiny kitchen that looked out through an open wall at a backyard with an outhouse and a couple of stunted coconut trees. A trio of chickens strutted through the backyard. It was seriously fucking rural and dirt poor, but honestly better than I’d been bracing myself for. I found it difficult to look down on them. Instead of feeling disgust or disdain, I just rolled with it. It was what it was, right?
We all sat down in the main room and talked, with Maria translating. Benigno moved slowly and deliberately, clearly still infirm from heart disease. The mood was strained at first but grew easier over time. Liwanag brought out a plate of fresh mango, buko pie, and suman rice cakes for us to snack on. The fruit was awesome, and while I was usually hesitant to try unfamiliar ethnic-looking food, I put myself out there and sampled the other stuff too. They were both actually really good.
Liwanag kept touching her daughter's hair and belly as she talked excitedly in rapid-fire Tagalog. They were clearly happy to see each other again. Liwanag even stroked my hand and arm occasionally. Somehow it didn’t feel weird – Maria must have been talking me up. I just did my best not to make a total idiot of myself, answering their questions, nodding a lot, smiling, and generally making it known that I was in this. That I cared. It seemed to work and by the end of the afternoon, it wasn't that awkward anymore. I was touched by how sweet and kind Maria's mom was despite all of life's hardships. We were a world apart, but Liwanag was the kind of mother I wish I had. She didn't seem to think I was a dipshit puti anyway.
Benigno was clearly unhappy about Maria's pregnant state. His attitude towards me wasn't as welcoming and warm as Liwanag's, but he seemed to at least appreciate the gesture of the gifts and the respect I paid him and his house. Talk turned to the wedding, which looked like it was
"Tomorrow?" I blinked.
Maria sighed, rolling her eyes. "Carl, babies come any time now, you know! We have priest already come from Butuan. Make my parents happy."
It wasn't exactly a shotgun wedding, but I did see Benigno eyeing this big machete leaning against the wall over by the kitchen area.
"Where's it gonna be, like a chapel or something?" I asked, not sure why I was feeling nervous.
"I want on the beach," Maria said happily. "At sunset. I already take care everything. It will be SO ro-man-tick!" she giggled.
"No shit. Romantic? That's my specialty," I smirked, my lopsided grin wide as I wiggled my eyebrows playfully at her. I could almost feel Benigno's eyes burning through my skull from behind me, so I settled down a little, clearing my throat. "Alright. Sounds perfect."
Maria was practically bouncing in her chair and hugged me tightly, squeezing my ribs and nearly cutting off my air. Her mom hugged me next, and when I looked at her dad, Benigno nodded, smiling gruffly, which was good enough for me.
I learned that tonight Maria’s parents were throwing us a big lechon feast with all the relatives in the village. They were roasting an entire fucking pig in our honor. Like a Hawaiian luau, I guess. If I died of food poisoning out here, I’d die happy.
I asked my lover what our accommodations would be, as there clearly wasn't enough space for all of us to fit in her parent's place. It looked like I was going to be in Joy's old room while she slept in hers. Once we were married, we'd have our own place and wouldn't have to play Pinoy Puritans or whatever. All it'd take was one night of celibacy.
Maria excused herself to go out to the outhouse to piss yet again, leaving me alone with her parents. They kept averting their eyes as the awkwardness returned. Maybe I shouldn't have said it, but I'd rehearsed something else in Tagalog that I wanted them to know.
"Um, Tito, Tita, pangako, aalagaan ko po ang anak ninyo," I suddenly said. I promise I'll take care of your daughter.
Liwanag smiled at me warmly, touched by my words, though Benigno just gave a grudging grunt of acknowledgment. The two of them started to talk, but I couldn't really understand what they said. I wasn't sure if Benigno was unhappy at me being white and young, or how I banged and knocked up his daughter out of wedlock, or both. It seemed like his wife was trying to make the best of it and convince him to give me a chance.
I guess it'd just take time.
As evening approached, the rest of Maria's tribe was much more accepting of me. There were no ostracizing looks, no shaming. Just a lot of curiosity. Aunts, uncles, cousins, distant relations, all staring, all smiles, all eager to meet me, affectionately calling me puti and kano, though Maria quickly corrected them that my name, in fact, was Carl. She definitely enjoyed the attention more than I did as the big feast got underway in the backyard. I could see where Maria got her personality from, surrounded by a big happy family, laughing and dancing and singing along to the music thumping from a boombox playing Manilla Sound Hits and Macarena. It was infectious as hell.
The lechon was basically pulled pork, but like, seriously pulled pork. It was just this big freaking pig roasted in banana leaves and set on a table filled with food. The relatives were eating it with their bare hands and using a big mound of rice to scoop up the meat with. Maria had been watching me closely since I'd arrived, her eyes concerned that I'd be squeamish about the local food. It'd be a big insult if I didn't partake, so I didn't hesitate, dipping a scoop of rice and lechon in this really hot, peppery green relish. It was probably one of the best things I'd ever tasted.
All eyes were on me and a wave of joy rippled through the crowd as they saw how much I loved it. It was like they’d won something. They clapped me on the back and shook my hand, Maria beaming as I dug in and finished two helpings. The coconut milk and sago pudding was so creamy, and I got a second helping of that too, with a banana on the side.
"Carl!" Maria laughed, giving me a teasing kiss. “You like it so much, ah?”
Liwanag had been hovering over me with a pitcher of water the whole meal, ready in case I couldn’t stomach spicy food – I found out this was a prevailing preconception about all foreigners. We were bombarded with questions the entire night and Maria would whisper translations.
"Are you a good provider?" asked the middle-aged woman on my left.
I said I hoped to be, if they gave me the chance.
"What will you do?" asked one of Maria's cousins.
I told them I would probably work in finance, though I wasn't sure if that really impressed them or not.
I told them I would keep Maria happy, and that made them smile.
"How much money do you have?" asked another cousin, a younger woman piping up from the crowd.
That was the first question that made me really uncomfortable. I just told her that I had enough to take care of the family.
"Can you handle her?" asked the uncle beside Maria, looking at my Filipina lover as he said it with a grin.
Maria blushed. "Ay, basta!"
"Hey, I can handle her alright," I winked, giving my lover's big pregnant belly a good-natured rub before Maria swatted my arm, laughing. "Two babies. No problem."
Later, after the festivities died down and we returned home, Maria was over the moon happy as she put me in Joy's old bedroom.
"Carl! That was amazing!" she sighed, her smile dazzling me as she shut the door, giving me a kiss that tasted of salt, sago, lechon, and banana. "My parents and everyone...they really like you. But you already know that," she purred, giggling as she kissed me again and I ran my hands up her smooth belly. Maria moaned softly, feeling me gently fondle her sensitive breasts through her loose dress.
"We can't..." she protested, reluctantly peeling away from me with an apologetic look. My mare probably could have sucked me off or something, but if we spent too much time together behind a closed door, it'd be super disrespectful to her parents – something I actually cared about with her side of the family. "Tomorrow, tomorrow we do," Maria grinned, teasing me with the words she'd used to placate back when we were in Bangkok and our relationship was a lot more exploitative. "When we marry."
I gave a disappointed sigh but understood.
Maria kissed me deeply, biting my lower lip and dragging it out before leaving me to sleep in her old room. "Tomorrow," she repeated huskily as she shut the door behind her.
The tiny, cramped room was almost completely bare and hadn't been lived in for years. Musty wood; just a bed and lots of boxes all around. The thin mattress was worn out and the frame creaked noisily with the slightest movement. The ocean made the temperature bearable, and somehow there weren't bugs like I'd feared. It was hard to believe Maria was born in this bamboo shack, but as I laid back and listened to the unfamiliar noises in the tropical night, I could hear the calming rhythm of the surf and let my mind wander.
Tomorrow, I was getting married at 18 to my family's pregnant ex-housekeeper.
No. My incredible Filipina fiancee. My sexy little broodmare. The woman I loved.
It was crazy, but so was seducing and impregnating her in the first place. Crazy would have been leaving her all alone and not doing everything I could to keep her in my life.
Just like the night this had all started, I lay awake naked on the bed, staring up at the thatched ceiling in the dark. My big cock was a steel pipe that I gripped and pumped in my hand, lubed up with a palm of spit. But instead of juvenile fantasies, I imagined Maria waiting on the other side of the house for me in her childhood room, lying naked and pregnant in the dark, her smooth, brown skin glistening, her pussy aching and dripping and waiting for my big white cock, just as she always had.
****
The next morning, Joy arrived from Angeles City.
She hopped off the back of a Jeepney with a pack slung over her shoulder and a beat-up duffel bag in her hands. Joy had grown up from the girlish 13-year-old in her photo into a pretty, nubile young woman. Maria's pretty little sister was just as lithe but slightly taller and more athletic-looking; her skin tone was lighter and her braided hair was dyed blond, dark roots starting to show. She was wearing a faded, red hoodie with cutoff jean shorts and high tops – a clear indication of her urban upbringing and Western-style education. Her face had been spared from the pockmarks, acne, and scabs I saw on the beggar children in Davao and some of the youth here. Joy looked healthy and had a friendly, youthful face that was vaguely elfin, like Maria's, but with a smaller nose, and thinner lips. Deep, dark brown inquisitive eyes.
While the other Filipina women of the village weren’t unattractive by any means, their bodies svelte and toned from hard work, Maria and Joy were definitely the prettiest females in Barangay Alon I’d seen so far.
Joy was embraced by her mother and older sister while Benigno and I hung back on the porch. I’d dressed more casually for the meeting in cargo shorts and sandals, a black tank top and unbuttoned linen shirt over it, sunglasses in my hair. The two siblings preened over each other – Maria, clearly taken aback at how much her little sister had grown while Joy was shocked over my lover's heavily pregnant state. Her expression waxed from excited to concerned, with an uncomfortable glance over at me.
But when I approached Joy and extended my hand, the first thing that flashed through those eyes was the same animalistic instinct Maria had looked at me with all those months ago when she'd first seen my naked body in the gloom of the blackout, the outline of my big, naked teenage dick aching for her. Joy blinked a couple times, blushing deeply as she looked between my hand and face, hesitating as if trying to remember to speak.
"Um...hello..." Joy smiled shyly. I took her hand and gave her a friendly handshake. It felt warm and soft, her fingers clasped with rings.
"Hey there, I'm Carl," I said.
Joy smiled and laughed quietly in response, glancing at her family, then down, trying to hide the interest that flitted in her eyes, the awkwardness that passed over her face. I suddenly felt self-conscious as Joy took back her hand, which she immediately folded in front of herself.
"Um...you...I mean...nice to meet you, too..."
Joy’s English was much better than Maria's, probably on account of her education and life in the city, tones only lightly accented with that Tagalog cadence. Her voice was a little lighter than her sister’s sultry, sometimes smoky pitch.
Maria rolled her eyes at her sister’s embarrassing behavior as Liwanag chuckled and took Joy’s duffel up into the house.
"Ay, he know who you are!" Maria huffed. "Alam kong gwapo siya. Huwag kumilos nang kakaiba."
Joy's cheeks flushed and she gave her older sister a sulking look.
"Gaano ba siya kalaki?" she murmured, glancing over at me again.
Maria raised an eyebrow, but smirked. "Malaki. Ngunit wala sa iyong negosyo."
Whatever it was, it went over my head with my limited Tagalog.
"What are you two talking about?"
Maria waved my concerns away and laughed as her sister pursed her lips into a playful leer.
"Just that you're a lot more handsome than I thought you'd be, like you were some creepy old white man," Joy explained.
"Nope, just me," I smiled.
"Where are you from, LA?" Joy asked curiously, peering at me.
"New York, originally," I replied.
"Woah, cool. How do you like our village? It’s not much, right?"
"It's got a beautiful beach and the people rock," I said honestly. That seemed to please both sisters as we dropped off Joy's bags and went on a short stroll through the neighborhood. The people here were poor and lived in huts, but despite being a rural village, it wasn't really a shithole. People were genuinely enjoying life. Maybe Barangay Alon was in decline, but there weren't trash heaps everywhere like in Bangkok or open sewers and shit everywhere. I might've felt out of place, still, but the people here had worked hard to make me, a foreign outsider, feel welcome.
We all had a pleasant conversation that skirted the more sensitive topics, like how Maria and I met, or our age difference. Instead we just talked about the Philippines and Barangay Alon, which Joy described as backward and boring. Nowhere to shop, nothing to do. No future.
"Maybe you guys could switch from fishing and horses to tourism or something," I offered, gesturing at the mountains and the beach. "I mean, this place seriously gives Hawaii a run for its money. It's paradise. Surfing, diving, hiking? Like, open a hotel or something..."
"The land and sea belongs to the old generation,” Joy said coldly, crossing her arms. “They won't give it up to some rich investors and hotels."
"You could always just go local, like build it yourselves," I offered.
Shit, I could invest.
Joy was dismissive, but Maria seemed intrigued. She took my hand, smiling at me, her almond eyes full of love. "Carl, I like."
"You better," I laughed. "I mean it though, seriously. Could really give people here a better life."
"Or maybe they just want to fish," Joy sighed cattily.
"Or maybe they just wanna fish," I smiled. "Nothing wrong with that."
Near the end of our walk, we came by a circle of women sitting on crude boxes and stools in the shade of overhanging palm fronds and chatting outside a dwelling, some of whom I recognized from the feast the night before – a couple of cousins, each a few years younger than Maria. One of them was a young mother that had a 6-month-old baby with her, a black-haired child in just a diaper and a knock-off Winnie the Poo bib. The baby was fussing, cradled in his young mother's arms as the others admired the infant and unhelpfully tried to make cooing noises at him. The cousin looked exhausted.
Maria came into their midst with Joy as I hung back a little. I didn't want to intrude. The sisters greeted their relatives and talked briefly, some of the women taking the opportunity to touch her big gravid bump appreciatively. The cousin tried to feed her squirming baby with a bottle of formula, but the infant turned his face away in protest. He started crying, eyes screwing up with this awful grinding howl. Maria stepped in as her cousin looked on helplessly, gently picking up the crying baby to cradle him on top of the curve of her abdomen, holding him against her chest and making cooing noises. The child calmed, his brown eyes staring up at Maria's dark, smiling ones as she held him in her arms, bouncing and humming some tune, her voice light. Even Joy looked impressed until the baby, to Maria's horror, started rooting around her covered pregnant breasts. When she tried to give the child back, he began to wail again.
"Uh oh, looks like he's hungry," I said, trying not to look too amused.
"Mayroon ka bang gatas ng ina?" the young mother asked hopefully, encouraging Maria by cupping one of her own breasts. "Painom siya!"
My bride-to-be looked like a deer in headlights, her cheeks flushing. "Ako, pero..."
"Painom siya!!" the cousin insisted, practically trying to shove Maria’s dress aside. I thought it was pretty adorable that my broodmare, the sex goddess I'd conquered with my huge, white teenage cock and knocked up with our young, was now being embarrassed in front of her family about the prospect of feeding a baby relative. I watched her nipples go hard, pushing up through the material of her dress and start to leak through on instinct, making my own cock begin to grow as I recalled the taste of the sweet mother's milk that came from her swollen breasts.
The hungry baby sensed Maria’s hesitation even as he smelled her withheld milk. He opened his mouth wide and gave this godawful cry like he was dying, tiny face scrunching with fury and indignation, ready to explode into another full-on wail. Maria gave this endearing little sigh, her cheeks flushed deeply as she glanced between me and the others before sitting down and carefully slipping her arm through the shoulder of her dress. Maria’s luscious tan breast was bared as she tried to cover her nakedness as best she could while exposing the long, fat dark nipple and big areola.
I could see her discomfort but I could also see in her eyes a measure of pride and even arousal. I had made Maria pregnant and this was one of my broodmare's tasks – to nurture young with her fertile body. To feed them and make them strong. It was her nature that I'd coaxed out of her with my lust and insatiable dick. Maria gasped and smiled falteringly at the infant as he greedily latched on and suckled her engorged nipple, making the whole breast bulge, as his little fist clenched, holding onto the tit for support.
Maria's face changed, pupils dilating. It was a maternal, sensual look I'd never seen on her before; a deeply erotic cross between a virginal schoolgirl and a porn star as she felt the infant's tiny mouth drawing milk from her dark teat. She trembled a little as the baby suckled, and I knew that she'd just came a little from the sensation. It was an altruistic, but somehow extremely vulgar scene, my woman being the village wet nurse, was pressured into feeding her infant cousin on the dirt road while the other women looked on expectantly. Joy just stared with wide eyes, dumbfounded. Maria glanced over at me nervously, her face fully flushed with embarrassment.
I could tell from her look she was asking permission, like, 'What do I do?' But the expression was tinged with arousal, with submissiveness. I just gave her a smile. The baby, near-starving after rejecting the formula, ended up draining both breasts before he fell into a contented, milk-drunk stupor.
My broodmare had never looked sexier – the peak of her fertility, nursing her own cousin’s baby while she was so massively pregnant with my twins. My dick was steel-hard in my pants by that point and throbbing. I thanked fuck that I was wearing my baggy cargo shorts for the day; I just tried to look like I was casual with my hands jutting in my pockets to hide my obvious bulge. My mind went to darker places as I fantasized about railing Maria from behind while our two children were laying on their backs on the floor, gripping and suckling from her big, swaying teats.
Later, while we walked home, Maria was smiling with an afterglow as Joy teased her, but Maria was happy about it.
"You're a natural," I grinned. Of course, I'd given her plenty of practice since her milk came in, with my demanding lips and teeth and tongue. I could tell Maria felt good, her body radiating with the warmth of motherly pride and her hairy pussy probably soaked as we headed back to the house. Maria gave a little chuckle and rubbed my back as I slipped my arm around her waist, squeezing her body into me. Looking at her smile, her beauty, her sexiness, and all that we'd been through, all my anxiety about the wedding just melted away.
****
Pretty much every single person in the fucking village showed up for our wedding, which was a simple ceremony on the beach as the orange sun hung low, dappling the calm ocean green and yellow, setting the sky ablaze with fiery purple. The priest from Butuan, Father Ernesto, was there to officiate in a loose white cassock with a red stole.
Maria stood barefoot and radiant on the sand in a simple, white dress her mother had made for her, a gauzy thing with lace around the arms, her bump even more obvious at the waist, which was a little too tight in the front. My bride’s makeup was minimal – some dark shadow around her eyes and glossy lips, though the ends of her flowing black hair were streaked with henna. Maria carried a small bouquet of wildflowers in front of her and was smiling so widely as I approached. She looked absolutely gorgeous.
Joy stood at her side in a plain purple dress, while their parents looked on expectantly, wearing their best clothes, simple and worn as they might have been. Relatives and onlookers were crowded around, men and boys wearing simple polo shirts and slacks, while the women and girls had their plain Sunday dresses with flowers in their hair, many barefoot like Maria. I was wearing a linen suit with a black button-down underneath and the sleeves rolled up – the only suit I'd brought from home. My heart was pounding and my face ached from smiling, but unlike graduation, none of it was forced. We both looked dazed now that the moment was finally, actually reality.
Maria and I exchanged some simple vows as we held hands on the beach. I was touched when my Filipina bride produced a solid gold ring for me, delighted after I'd revealed a slender platinum band for her, both purchased in secret from one another before we'd left Thailand. After the rings were on our fingers, the priest wrapped our hands together in his stole and blessed us; we were pronounced man and wife. Against the setting sun, I kissed Maria deeply before dipping her low, our hungry mouths still together. The crowd was delighted with a ripple of applause and joy, while some of the kids and teenagers screamed and laughed. Liwanag was crying, and though stoic, Benigno looked relieved. Joy was clapping her hands wildly.
There was another feast, of course, something Maria called the handaan. Basically the Filipino village version of a big fat wedding reception. Tables were laden with rice, fresh fish, and a wide variety of stewed meat and vegetables, along with a few chickens. Some of the aromatic dishes I knew from Maria’s cooking, but many others were new but equally appetizing, despite the flies that were quickly gathering. The men broke out this coconut wine called tuba, which they were sharing with some of the young kids. There was this gin bulag firewater-type shit that was being passed around too but I didn't want to make a fool of myself by getting drunk so I mostly busied myself with the amazing food.
It wasn't the extravagant opulence that my parents probably imagined for my eventual wedding to a Katie Barrows or a Margaux Bennett; it was basically a big neighborhood potluck that lasted well into the night, the tables full of raucous, exuberant villagers who had been invited to join us as I sat at the head with Maria. Throughout the evening, I noticed that along with some of the other young women, Joy kept staring at me, though it was difficult to discern whether the looks were curious, appraising, or something else entirely. Maria's relatives kept pestering her in Tagalog and bringing her snacks and drinks and presents to the point that it looked like she might throw something at them. It was all a miasma of color and smells and vivacious island people – like a dream, but a good one this time.
Now Maria was really, truly my wife.
"Hey," my sexy bride said, her lips curled up like a cupid's bow as she nudged my hand, seeing I'd spaced out. "You okay, love?"
"Oh, yeah, for sure," I answered with a smile. "It's just kind of hard to believe, like I know we talked about it but now we're really, actually married."
Maria beamed. "We really are," she smiled. "Now you not get rid of me, never. You're mine. My husbaand," she said in a sultry voice, her fingers grazing my leg under the table, causing my dick to stir. I leaned over to kiss her cheek.
"You better be ready for me," I grinned, purring into her ear. "I'm gonna fuck your hot lil’ pregnant body the whole night."
Maria demurred with her head lowered, giving me this wanton little side eye through her dark lashes. I felt her fingers tighten around mine and her foot rub up the side of my leg, a secretive, seductive look spreading over her pretty Filipina face.
We didn't stay too much longer – after we expressed our thanks and finally had her parents' official blessing, Maria was eager to show me our new house. She'd financed it with some of the money I'd given her and had it built over the last 4 months. My Filipina bride held my hand, leading me down the path toward the beach, the full moon shimmering over the water. Out here, far from city lights, the stars were splashed in a dazzling, breathtaking spray over the night sky. Our home was a brand-new two-story nipa house, much larger and more modern than the others. It was set further back, near the jungle where it was raised up off the ground with a covered porch. The sounds of the sea lapping against the shore and the soft breeze followed us as we made our way to the wooden staircase leading up. Maria held my hand, climbing the steps in front of me as my eyes drank in her round, pert ass under that dress, swaying with each step. She glanced over her shoulder, biting her lower lip and smiling as she knew she was putting on a show.
Maria was grinning ear to ear as she took me around the house, pointing out all of the details she was particularly proud of. The first floor had the living and dining room area with the kitchen while the bedrooms were on the second level. To my surprise, it was really nice. Workers from Butuan and as far as Davao had come to build it. Amazing how far just a few thousand US dollars could go here. There was tile on the floors and the kitchen was modern. It was sparse, but the furnishings looked good. The bathroom and shower area was large and clean with actual plumbing. There was even a nursery, though everything was still in boxes, waiting to be assembled and put away.
The best part was the incredible view of the ocean. It stretched on forever into the darkness, dappled with the lights of tiny fishing boats going for their evening catch.
I could actually see myself living here.
As we stood on the balcony, Maria nibbling on my neck, she gave my ass a swat. "Joy will stay with us until she go back to Angeles City," my sexy little Pinay wife declared. "She no wan be at Mama Papa house after she see our home...maybe she spoiled now," Maria sighed.
"Is Joy gonna hear us?" I grinned wolfishly, hugging Maria from behind. I rubbed my hand over her big, protruding baby bump, letting my palm explore the curve and my fingers linger over the top of her popped-out navel.
My mare shrugged, humming contentedly at the attention.
"She a big girl now," Maria smiled, pressing her ass against me and reaching up to toy with the back of my hair, sliding up to kiss the side of my jaw as she guided my hands all over her pregnant belly and between her thighs, our wedding rings shining in the low light. I was growing huge and hard for her, grinding into her slinky Asian body insistently. Maria let out this soft, satisfied little sound.
"So you ready for me, sexy wife?" I challenged playfully as I felt my cock lengthen and thicken fully in my shorts, pressing against her firm ass as Maria leaned over the railing and smiled, the warm sea breeze on her dark hair. My hands continued to roam, to grope and knead at her voluptuous brown curves, her deeply feminine gifts.
"Take me to bedroom, now Carl Daddy..." my mare breathed in a sensual moan.
****
I pounded Maria’s naked, sweat-slickened body in our new bedroom, my motions deep but gentle. We had been fucking all night to consummate our marriage, not able to get enough of each other, loud and desperate in our union, a mess of moaning, grunting, and wet fucking sounds as we quenched our hunger for each other with our bodies. We laughed when we heard Joy’s music being turned up next door.
It was round five and Maria was lying on her back with her thighs spread wide for me, the hill of her hugely pregnant stomach jutting upwards as I pistoned myself inside her hairy mare cunt. My wife moaned into my mouth, our tongues lashing each other as she pushed her hips against me and met my controlled thrusts, the room echoing the clap of my body pumping into her with every drive. Maria was hot, tight, and soaked around my shaft, her walls clutching around my meaty shaft every time I buried my cock in her depths, the swollen head pressing against her cervix, making her cry out with a joyful, primal moan.
“I want you pregnant as soon as you have the twins,” I grunted breathlessly, the sweat from my young body dripping down onto her pregnant swell. My heavy ballsack slapped her ass noisily every time I pushed back inside her, filling her up again. Her huge belly heaved up and down with each stroke as we made out and fucked, me carefully balancing over her with the sheer size of her swollen abdomen and full, milky tits, Maria let out a squealing gasp and came again as my big white cock pumped into her, filling her cervix with hot semen and triggering her own orgasm. Maria squeezed my dick in waves with her silken walls and writhed, panting and whining against my mouth.
My hand went between her thighs to rub her clit, and Maria immediately shrieked in delight as she climaxed again, her naked, pregnant body convulsing under my own as our wet skin pressed together. Her fingers dug into the back of my head, pulling me into another heated kiss that sent us over the edge together. I grunted in a final stroke as the tension in my nuts was finally released and my shaft buried into her as I exploded another gushing load of hot seed. Maria's cunt clenched around again, drawing every last drop of my semen out and into her fertile depths. I leaned my head down on her chest and kissed the top of her left breast as she stroked the back of my head and whispered her love in my ear. I took her nipple into my mouth and suckled, tasting her milk.
Maria's head rolled back with a blissful moan and closed her eyes, her lips swollen and wet from my kisses, hair spread around her in a fan of jet-black silk. We stayed that way for a minute as I remained buried to the root inside her, sucking on her broodmare teats until her pregnant body squirmed from the overstimulation and I felt her fluttering, tightening around my still-hard length.
"Ooooh, so much cum, baby," she giggled, giving the slightest thrust of her hips, causing me to push inside her with a slick, wet noise.
"Yeah, well...get used to it," I replied with a grin, kissing her cheek and licking at the corner of her lips, causing her to wrinkle her nose playfully. We fell asleep with me still inside her, our hands feeling the comforting motions of the twins rippling beneath the taut flesh of Maria’s bump.
The next morning when we came down to the kitchen, Joy was sitting at the table with a sticker-laden Acer laptop and some school books. She was in a loose-fitting white crop top with a big red rose, with black capri yoga pants, her bare midriff exposed. Joy’s tight, thin teenage body looked lithe and fit, but her top was cut in such a way that I could see the swell of her young, ripe little breasts and even the outline of her dark nipples under the cloth.
Her sullen almond-shaped eyes glanced up with annoyance, a frown twisting the pout of her lips.
"You two are fucking LOUD, Kuya," she complained. "Couldn't sleep."
I mumbled an apology before shuffling into the kitchen for some coffee and rummaging in the pantry for food. I was wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants, my pale, tightly muscled bare torso still damp from the shower I'd taken with Maria. I could tell that Joy was staring at me as I made some coffee in the pot and grabbed a circle of piaya flatbread as I caught her checking me out. Joy quickly averted her eyes back to her laptop.
Man, was she just as horny as her sister or something? Or just never saw a decent-looking white guy before? My depraved, rebellious dick made my mind briefly skirt around the fantasy of fucking Joy’s feisty, insolent teenage Asian body right there on the couch, but I quickly shook it off. I wasn’t like that.
Maria and I spent the day on the beach, her wearing a wide-brimmed sun hat and bikini, the dark material barely covering her big nipples and hairy cunt, drawing my eyes to her pregnant swell as her taut, mostly naked brown body gloriously stretched out under the sun.
I wore my board short-style swimming trunks, trying to take it easy with Maria as we strolled along the beach and enjoyed the view, hand in hand.
"When do you think the babies will come?" I asked.
Maria grinned at me. "Soon..." she replied, rubbing her distended pregnant globe. "I feel them ready, sometimes my belly tight." She bit her lower lip, a wicked smile pulling at her lips. "Maybe tonight you help them come out?" Her mouth split into a grin at my horndog expression, and she leaned up on the arch of her feet to whisper in my ear: "It mean you can fuck me hard as you wan."
My cock almost instantly throbbed to full hardeness.
"Is everything ready though?" I asked as we walked along the shore, far from the village, far from civilization. "Crib, diapers, sheets, toys..." I continued on for a moment, and Maria squeezed my hand.
"It okay. I see midwife already yesterday. She come when it time. No worry, Carl Daddy."
My wife’s sultry eyes were down at the big, tenting bulge in my swimsuit. She looked around to see that it was only us, then squatted down, barefoot in the sand to pull down the waistband of my trunks and free my big flaccid white cock. Maria’s eyes rolled up at me, smile impish as her fingers with her wedding ring traced the big y-shaped vein along my shaft, then my glans, slowly coaxing it to engorge and stiffen. I felt like I was in a fucking porno, my beautiful pregnant Pinay wife lapping her tongue over the throbbing length of my cock before taking my big, meaty head in her mouth. Maria’s lips stretched wide around my thick cock as the length slowly disappeared down her throat, her soft moans sending a ripple of pleasure down the shaft and making my balls twitch and swell as she swallowed my girth.
“Aauun…aaunn….nnnaaaaauuuhh!”
I gently gripped the back of my wife's head and pulled her hair free from its ponytail, groaning with lust and desire. I could smell her hot skin and her sweat, beaded from the ocean sun. Maria eagerly sucked and bobbed, my cock swelling even further inside her tight mouth as it slid over her tongue. It was a new plane of paradise, having this sexy, thoroughly knocked-up Asian goddess blowing my dick on the beach.
It took about twenty seconds of my wife's wet, expert mouth sucking me before my balls tightened and I felt an orgasm approaching. My fingers entwined in her black hair and my hips jerked a little with a sudden spasm. I came in a heavy spurt down Maria's throat, groaning loudly. She swallowed it all with a throaty gasp, smiling up at me as her fingers wrapped around the shaft and gave a squeeze to milk the last of my seed.
“Unnnh," I grunted, still a little shaky. "Thanks baby..."
"Anything for Carl Daddy," she cooed. "You know...I miss you cock after they born," Maria said with a lustful, lamenting breath, rubbing her cheek on my thigh.
I gingerly put my spent dick back into my swim trunks, checking to see that I didn’t get any cum on them. Maria was licking her lips and stroking the underside of her swollen belly as she slowly got to her feet, brushing the sand off her knees. She gave a playful tug of my swimsuit waistband to make sure I was covered up.
"How long do we have to wait until we can do it again?" I asked,
Maria pursed her lips, a sensuous, sinful expression on her face as she considered.
"We see," she murmured, tracing the outline of her big breasts in the bikini, fat nipples hardening to push against the fabric. "And then you give me next baby..."
"You're such a fuckin' tease," I growled at her playfully, gripping her flared hips and maneuvering her over to an outcropping of palm trees. Soon she was braced up against the trunk, legs spread, bikini bottom around her ankles and her top on the sand. Her pendulous tits were bared and leaking milk, slick, hairy mare cunt lips wrapped around my shaft as her gravid belly hung huge, swinging lewdly beneath her. Maria let out a low, animalistic moan as I filled from behind as we watched the surf, rutting slowly under the swaying fronds of the trees and listening to the crashing of the surf. I made her come in waves around my thick white cock, and the sound of her cries carried across the beach. My hands roamed over my mare's pregnant body, taking my pleasure, her cries rising as I filled her newly-married Asian cunt again with my thick, potent seed.
****
That evening after dinner with my new sister and parents-in-law, Joy, Maria, and I returned home. We all sat down to watch a movie in our living room to watch a couple of VCDs that I'd brought with me on the little TV – the Fifth Element and Men in Black. I was massaging Maria's swollen feet as she lay them across my lap on the couch while Joy and I nursed bottles of San Miguel. It was late evening when Joy yawned and made her excuses, taking her bag of toiletries and pajamas to the second floor.
Maria waited until we heard the door to the upstairs bedroom click shut, and she rubbed her big pregnant belly with a giggle, turning toward me. She was wearing a pale blue maternity sundress with her dark hair done up, with no bra or underwear underneath.
"You big horse diick ready now?" she smiled wickedly, pushing her pregnant belly against my chest and leaning in to kiss me.
We went to the bedroom, our arms wrapped around each other, lips locked together. Maria's swollen breasts rubbed up against my naked, strong chest. Inside, my wife set up candles while I disrobed and watched her, my large, aching cock hanging heavy between my legs, ready to rut and breed.
"I love you," I said, coming over to caress that swollen pregnant belly of hers as she lowered the straps of her dress. Maria looked so incredibly sexy as the slip of fabric dropped to the floor and she stepped out of it, standing naked, her teats jutting out with their big nipples and dark brown areolae, already starting to drip with her arousal. The smooth skin of my mare’s abdomen was like a firm beach ball between us, our flesh a hot press of whiteness and dark caramel. The musk of Maria’s arousal was already in the air, filling my nostrils as her warm little hands ran up and down the toned planes of my pale back. Her lips grazed the side of my face and neck while she pressed her full, pregnant curves into my naked body so needily. I pulled her close, my dick rock hard and bobbing up against the swell of her stomach as Maria nibbled on my lips and tugged on my lower lip with her teeth.
"I love you," Maria whispered, kissing my lips, rubbing her hard, fat nipples on my naked flesh, staining my hard, defined torso with her milk. She sidled away from me and climbed onto our marital bed on her hands and knees, presenting her dripping, furry mare cunt for the final act of our breeding, her huge swollen belly and heavy breasts swaying below her. She was writhing, whining with need as she looked behind herself at me with her wanton almond-shaped eyes. Maria pawed at herself as I crawled onto the bed behind her, my own eyes glazing over as I took in the sight of the young pregnant mare in heat in front of me. She was pleading for me to fuck her into labor. It was all so depraved, so unbelievably erotic.
My hand slid around Maria's naked waist and up to the full, rounded underswell of her pregnant abdomen. I couldn't get enough of my wife's pregnant body.
"So beautiful..." I murmured as she writhed in time with the fitful squirms of our roused offspring, hanging globe of pregnant flesh trembling gently, all while she arched her back to press her pert ass into me. My wife's body was on display, so motherly, so fertile and feminine. Serving her genetic purpose of carrying a womb full of white babies. I felt myself growing even harder, and Maria let out a sigh of pleasure as I brushed my fingertips over her pregnant belly in gentle circles. My hands slid over her hard, protruding navel and firm belly before cupping and squeezing the swollen underside of her hanging udders, milking them with rough jets that splashed onto the bedding like she was a true Mindanao broodmare. Maria cried out as she came from the sensation, her open cunt dripping in clear threads from the wild black triangle of hair that surrounded it. My woman mewled back at me, wordlessly begging me to fill her.
Knowing that my big bestial dick had impregnated her and now would urge her to give birth sent an electric charge through my entire body and sent me into a sexual frenzy. It was deeply animalistic, the urge to breed Maria to term, to complete her transformation into a mother.
My hard dick pushed against Maria's sopping cunt as she rocked her hips back against me, my head forcefully stretching apart her hairy slit. She let out a long, husky whine that inflamed my lust for her even more. I pushed in, groaning at the intense ecstasy of her heavily pregnant Asian pussy. My mare was so deliciously, beautifully, utterly fucking sexy as her walls closed around me, a perfect fit around my huge hardness after 8 months of both savage rutting and tender lovemaking. Tonight I let loose as I bottomed out against her cervix, railing her harder and harder, the two of us loud and feral in our fucking. Maria's fingers clawed the bedding as she grunted, her pendulous tits dangling under her, splashing milk all over the bed as they swung wildly. Her massive belly dragged on the mattress and bounced against her thighs with every powerful thrust. I lost myself in a fog of pleasure and lust, fucking Maria like she was a she-beast, my hips clapping into her ass as my balls slapped against her hairy cunt. I held onto Maria's wide, womanly hips, pushing deeper and deeper with my spearing cock. She was wailing in pleasure and my mouth was slack as I luxuriated in my animal purpose.
I don't know how long we fucked or how many times I came in her. It was all just a feverish, delirious haze. We were drenched in sweat, the light from the candles burning low when I was panting against Maria, draped over her like a dog knotted to a bitch, my hips still thrusting as I began to harden again. As I rose back up and rolled my head back, I saw that our door was ajar.
The…hell?
My sister-in-law was standing in the shadow of the hall in a loose Jack Skellington shirt that barely covered her thighs and tight little white briefs that were almost transparent with moisture, her dark almond-shaped eyes fixed on us. Joy’s tight, skinny teenage body was trembling as she stared in wonder at us fucking, dyed hair draped over the side of her face as she breathed deeply. She had a hand jammed into her panties, masturbating furiously to her sister and me. I watched transfixed as Joy’s fingers pushed in and out of her young cunt in time with our movements, her mouth hanging open as she whimpered, watching my big white cock as it pounded into her sister’s hairy, pregnant pussy.
I was in too deep a state of lust to stop fucking Maria, who was oblivious, completely absorbed in her own pleasure, moaning cries and grunts breaking through her bit lip, head bowed. Instead, I just locked eyes with Joy’s, my own lidded with lust as I rutted her sister like the broodmare she was.
The little interloping teen’s eyes went wide with lust and fear as she realized that I'd seen her there, but the spell still wasn't broken somehow. As I watched Joy, I gave an extra push of my hips, and Maria squealed out in pleasure as I sped up, gripping her hips to hammer into her slick, rippling cunt.
"Unh...Joy's...nngh...watching us..." I leaned over to grunt near Maria's ear, her head a tangle of jet black hair matted to her face. Maria's eyes opened halfway as she gazed languidly at the doorway, and a smirk of uncaring bliss crossed her face. I felt Maria's pussy grip down around me and heard her groan out in lustful delight, knowing that she and I shared the same filthy, perverted desire in that twisted, hedonistic moment – for Joy to join us.
My wife was shaking with an orgasm as we continued to rut like wild beasts in front of her teenage sibling. Joy's young Filipina body was trembling as she got off on her stud of a foreign brother-in-law fucking her pregnant sister like a she-animal, unable to look away, knowing that we knew she was watching. I'd never been harder in my life, swelling even larger inside Maria as I rutted her with ravening, utterly depraved abandon. As my mare came and her walls clenched and squirted around me, my head began to swim. My strokes intensified, harder and faster and deeper as my eyes rolled back. Maria was shuddering with another orgasm, her belly heaving under her as she cried out for me to cum. I roared as I finally came, harder than I ever had in my life, feeling a jolt of ecstasy that coursed through my veins as my cock swelled inside Maria and erupted in a torrent of seed, spurting rope after thick white rope of hot cum into my pregnant Pinay's womb.
Joy hissed through her teeth with lust, her almond eyes glazing over as she watched her pregnant sister get pumped with another massive load that spurted out from around the ring of her brown pussy, knees almost giving way as she came, hard. I collapsed over Maria, panting, and she looked back over her shoulder with a lazy, slutty smile as her teen sister lingered for a moment in the hall. Joy disappeared with a shuffle and the door shut, her footsteps padding back to her room.
I don't know how long we remained there, my seed pooling underneath Maria and my muscled young body covering her dominantly, my face in her matted black hair as she let out soft little coos of pleasure.
But before I could ask Maria about Joy, I could feel her belly contract under my palm, drawing out a powerful, racing orgasm from my mare that seemed almost painful. But then there was another one, and another, and I felt a heavy gush of steaming fluid drench my pelvis and thighs, way more than there should have been. I pulled out to see what was happening, and the two of us just stared for a second in shock at the clear liquid gushing down from the swollen Filipina's well-bred pussy onto the soaked bedsheets.
"Oh shit..." Maria winced with eyes bulging, hands cradling her quaking belly. "It work...babies coming nowwwwOW...CARL!!"
****
The next several hours were a flurry of action. I helped clean Maria up and change our sheets. I raced down the hall and banged on Joy's door in my shorts to get her to call the midwife – any sexual tension or attraction was forgotten in the craziness of labor. Soon I was sitting at the bedside while my wife lay back, sweating heavily on our mattress, a hellcat who was lashing out at everyone in her agony. Overheating, she’d thrown off the sheet covering her upper body, leaving her raw and naked as she prepared to give birth. Maria’s legs spread and knees were bent, hairy cunt gaping. Her beautiful brown almond-shaped eyes were squeezed shut, black hair plastered to her forehead with perspiration, teeth clenched, her tits pushed, milk running down them as she cried out in pain. Her huge globe of a pregnant belly was dripping with sweat, glistening in the low light. My mare was like an animal giving birth, feral and thrashing, belly trembling. With each contraction, her cunt dilated a little bit more to stretch even wider.
The midwife, an older Filipina wearing a plain brown dress and surgical mask prepared a basin, medical implements, and other items on a bedside table. Her gray hair was pulled back into a bun and she had a serious expression behind a pair of glasses, though her eyes were kind. Maria gnashed her teeth and gave out the occasional scream of agony while I held her hand tightly and stroked her hair, giving her encouragement. Joy stood in her pajamas with an awed, fascinated look as Maria was examined before the midwife shooed her out of the room. The two of us remained together as she sweated and groaned, her little hand tightening on my palm in waves, my heart thudding in my ears as she bared her teeth and bit down.
The midwife gave me an impassive look as Maria writhed and her lithe body shuddered again as another powerful contraction surged through her. My wife let out a long, pained wail as it happened, gripping down with all her might and crushing what felt like all the bones in my hand. The older Filipina fed Maria instructions in calm, firm, flowing Tagalog.
“Huminga. Huminga. Halos oras na para itulak ngayon, parating na sila.”
I don't know if it was all the sex we'd had, or if my big dick had permanently widened Maria’s otherwise small Asian pussy, but the birth was relatively quick. It was only a few hours until she was fully dilated and the midwife commanded her to push. Maria threw her head back and cried out into the night in a primal scream, gripping the sides of her mattress to push as I supported her back, belly rippling and shaking as her cunt split open and the first of our offspring crowned, her furry pussy lips peeling back as she gave birth to our boy, David. Maria snarled and strained again, and soon after the second twin, our girl, pushed out of her. Reyna.
My wife's cries turned into gasps of relief as the midwife took the twins, one after the other. We both sobbed in joy as they arrived with little squalls, the products of our love and lust – but mostly love. We hugged each other tight and I kissed Maria deeply – she'd been through so much. After I cut the cords, held both twins in my arms. They were beautiful – tiny, pink little creatures that stared up at me with dark, newborn eyes, a perfect mix of Maria and me. I gazed down at them with love and pride, whispering to each that I was their father and would always love and take care of them. When I was done, I placed both of them on their mother's breasts to nurse.
****
The following days and weeks were a blur. My new mother-in-law helped a lot, and even Joy pitched in before she had to return to Angeles City. Part of me regretted not inviting my horny teenage slut of a sister-in-law into our bed that night, but it was probably for the best – life was already complicated enough.
Yeah, it definitely wasn't the easy, unending marathon of sex anymore, but I rolled with it. Maria was healing, and nursing David and Reyna while caring for them was all-consuming. I knew it'd be awhile before we could make love again, but I’d prepared myself for that. I did as much as I could, with changing diapers, putting them down for sleep, comforting them, and making sure my wife was taken care of and resting.
Maria took to motherhood like it was the most natural thing in the world. The way she cared for the twins was just amazing. I don't think I'd ever been prouder of another human being. I had a deep, deep respect for Maria, who was way stronger than I’d ever imagined. In the quiet moments, the two of us lovingly watched our babies as they nursed, suckling at Maria’s hanging breasts while they rested on her rapidly shrinking belly. The three of them were like a painting as my tired, but happy wife lay there with her eyes closed in repose, a soft, maternal smile on her lips. Our newborn twins curled against her with their little fingers pressed into the flesh of her big breasts as they took turns drinking her milk. No matter the sleepless nights or the crying, or the shitty diapers, I was committed to her and to them. They were my family now. My entire world.
None of us wanted to think about the painful reality that I'd be leaving for Princeton at the end of August.
A month after the birth of our twins, the house was finally quiet for a moment. Our son and daughter were asleep in the other room in their cribs. I took a hot shower, letting the water soak into my back muscles, sore from all the new activities I was getting used to as a teenage dad. I had the curtain pulled back to let the steam out of the room and had just begun to scrub myself clean when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned to see Maria standing in the doorway of our bathroom, naked and ready to bathe.
She had mostly gotten her svelte, toned abdomen back from all the breastfeeding and hard work postpartum; her teats were still huge though. They looked even larger and fatter than before her pregnancy, her milk-engorged areolae dark brown and almost the size of silver dollars, nipples leaking, slowly dribbling down the upturned globes of her breasts in rivulets of white. Her broodmare teats would probably never truly leave her, I realized – a reminder of the fertility I'd bred into her, the pregnancy that she had willingly sacrificed her body to undergo for my pleasure and hers, the constant wetness of her pussy, the constant pressure in her big full udders, always swollen, always heavy, fat, stiff nipples constantly aching to be suckled. It turned me on so hard to know that Maria would forever bear a sexual mark from our breeding; that I was the one to make her like this. She looked at me, a sweet but sexual, knowing expression on her face. I loved how beautiful Maria was, how she still drove me wild even after all the hardship she’d gone through for me and our kids.
"Hey," I smiled at her as she joined me in the shower.
"Hello." Maria smiled back, turning so that I could wash her. She looked up into the stream, wetting her long dark hair, a loving expression on her face. After a long day caring for our newborns, we took a moment to just stand there together, my arms around her as the water soaked our bodies. Maria turned her head, leaning back against me, kissing me as the steam filled the bathroom.
She took my hands in hers to place them on her pendulous tits, pressing them down into her taut brown flesh. I squeezed and she let out a gasp of pleasure and relief, eyes closing as I leaned down to suckle her creamy white mother's milk, drinking from her while she writhed in the hot spray against me.
I helped wash Maria, starting with her dark, beautiful hair, gently massaging her scalp with her shampoo. It was so good to feel the closeness between us after the exhaustion of caring for our newborns. When her hair was done, I moved on to the rest of her gorgeous body. I worked the curve of her lithe, feminine back down to her firm little ass. As I went lower, I soaped and teased her pussy, finally shaved and trimmed back into its pre-pregnancy neatness, a sexy, thick womanly tuft. Maria’s sex was still a little loose and I was gentle. The heat of her Asian pussy as my fingers teased her hairy slit made my dick instantly rock-hard as I felt it throb between her cheeks, rubbing her cunt. I slowly masturbated my wife as I ran the loofah over her shoulders, under the supple swell of her tits, her stomach, and finally between her thighs as I made her cum with my other hand, enjoying the sight of her petite little Filipina body shuddering.
"The last time I did this was when you were a pregnant little maid," I teased, kissing her cheek as she ground back against me, feeling the length of my hard shaft against her ass. Maria giggled, letting me stroke and pet her as her hands closed around her aching breasts as I pleasured her.
When we got out of the shower, I dried her off, gently and lovingly massaging her tits and her hairy little Filipina pussy, squeezing the moisture from her wet hair as we kissed again and again. When we were done, I dried myself, and as I tossed the towel to the side, Maria gazed up at me with a coy expression and an upturned smile, biting her lip, one breast still leaking a trail of milk.
My mare cupped her udder and lifted the dripping nipple to her lips, suckling herself all while watching me with those dark, wanton almond eyes. It was a come hither that had me absolutely entranced. The way her cheeks hollowed as she drank her own milk so lewdly made my cock jump with desire. My woman broke from her milk with a pop to take a sensual breath before sucking the engorged, leaking teat into her mouth again, those hot, pillowy lips pressed into the brown of her areola. When she was done, Maria gave her thick, hardened nipple a lascivious lap of her tongue before slowly letting it come down with a bounce. My mare wiped her milk from the corner of her parted mouth to give me a panting, salacious look.
"Mmm…Carl...I want be pregnant again," she said huskily, sliding her hands over her flat stomach and empty womb. My mouth parted in surprise and pleasure, and my cock grew to its full, iron-hard length in response. Maria looked down with lust-filled, hooded eyes, then took my hand in hers and pressed my palm against her hot little Filipina pussy, parting the dark lips that led to her cunt with a little moan. She pressed down around my hand and my fingers slid into her, probing, invading.
"I want you to make me pregnant, husband," she added with a grin, looking up at me with lidded, smoky eyes as my fingers played inside her hot wet cunt and she rolled her hips into them. I kissed Maria hungrily, knowing what I was in for. She gripped my cock just below the head and gave me a tug as she started stalking purposefully out into the hall. Grinning, I allowed myself to be led down the hallway, watching my mare’s perfect hips and ass sway as she pulled me into our bedroom to start breeding.
****
We had the perfect life like that, blissful days slipping away like precious grains of sand. Maria and I were sitting in the shade down by the beach, watching the waves while David and Reyna slept like little angels in the bassinet next to us.
"I don't want to leave," I said, feeling a wave of emotion wash over me. "I don't want to go back."
Maria looked at me with a teary smile, her hand sliding over mine comfortingly. "It okay...we have so much now,” she said, voice quietly cracking. “It going to be hard for us, but I love you, Carl, I always going to be waiting for you here when you come home." I could hear in her voice how much it was going to hurt us both when I finally left for New Jersey at the end of the week. Even now, the thought of separation was agonizing.
I wiped my eyes and tried to look strong for her, but inside I was dying.
"I'm going to do the best I can in school, Maria...for the both of us, I swear I'll come home for as long as I can every holiday." My wife nodded, tears sliding down her cheeks as we hugged each other tightly. "And either I'll get you all over to America or I'll just come back here, permanently. A-and I'll send money every month, soon as I get it, Western Union like we talked about."
She smiled up at me, stroking my face. "Maybe I start a restaurant, like you say. Try to get some dumb puti tourist come here, hm?"
I grinned and pulled Maria into my lap, rocking her back and forth. "You can do anything you set your mind to, baby. I'm happy as long as we're together and get to have sex all the time."
Maria gave me that same hopeless, loving look at that I'd come to adore.
"I'll call you every night, on that cell I got you," I promised desperately. Maria snorted through her tears at that, but I was completely serious. I loved this girl with everything I had – my wife, the mother of my twins, and, judging by how things had been going, probably the mother of a third. I would never stop trying to give her more kids, as many as she wanted.
We kissed deeply, passionately, with love that had somehow thrived in a world that was so bittersweet. The sea looked like a painting with its calm water, the clouds looked like soft cotton candy in the sky, the breeze cool and pleasant, and the warm sun caressed our bodies as we savored the present and tried to stave off the future.
It was the most painful thing in the world for me to say goodbye to Maria and our children, even though I knew this was the best way I could do right by them. We both cried as I boarded a jeepney to Butuan where I'd get a car to Davao. I tried to sear the memory of her face, her smell, her touch into my mind, to last until the winter break. To hold David and Reyna one more time.
One last embrace, one last kiss, before I watched her stand at the edge of the village, holding our twins in her arms, looking devastated but resolute. I wept quietly in the car, my heart aching in a way that I never would have believed was possible. As the hours took me farther and farther away from them, I sat there numbly, holding my wedding band tight for comfort, still not fully used to the feeling of wearing it. There was nothing left to do for the long journey back but put on the Walkman headset and listen to our special song.
To have your babies
I'll dress like your niece
And wash your swollen feet...'
Late nights on the phone with Maria, a world away, waiting for me. Dreams filled with the island paradise I'd left behind, with my exotic, gorgeous Filipina wife and our beautiful children.
'Just don't leave
Don't leave...'
My parents, almost as distant in a new imperialist expatriate enclave in China, carving out a new fortune from the less fortunate. Always trying to get their claws back in, but I'm made of stronger stuff now.
'I'm not living
I'm just killing time
Your tiny hands
Your crazy kitten smile...'
The Princeton mail room, where I received letters and photos from Mindanao, watching the twins grow up little by little. Throwing myself into my studies with a desperate fire that gave me focus, ignoring everything else.
'Just don't leave
Don't leave...'
A new set of photos of Maria's sexy, svelte little belly, barely showing. Her holding one of the twins on her hip, the other sleeping in the crook of her arm.
'And true love waits
In haunted attics
And true love lives
On lollipops and crisps...'
The long plane ride to the Philippines for the first time, the second time, the sixth time, the ninth time, and the last time, when we were finally together forever.
'Just don't leave
Don't leave...'
Maria and I hand in hand, along the beach, our children laughing and playing in our footsteps.
~End.