I Used To Have Money One Time

For the first time ever, I heard Dawn giggle, then she whispered, "It's probably because I'm ovulating." Hearing that, a thrill shot through me. Daaaaamn, this was not a test, we were dealing with live ammunition! I slid the head of my cock an inch or so into her, and she gasped in pleasure.

Fighting the desire roaring through me like a runaway train, to make completely sure she really wanted this, I had to ask, "Baby, one time you told me you weren't on birth control. Do you want me to stop?"

I felt her shift her hips just a bit, driving me in another couple of inches. "I wasn't teasing; I'm your woman now, I don't want you to stop! Now what do YOU want, my future husband?"

I slid in and filled her completely, pleasure flooding every square inch of me. The physical ecstasy I was feeling after all these weeks made me nearly incoherent; before I lost myself completely to carnal lust, I managed to growl, "I want my baby in your belly."

She reached down and grabbed my hips, pulling me into her as I pumped, crying out, "YES! Fuck me! Make me your bad Manila girl, put your baby in me!" I can't recall much more of what she said, except that it was so wonderfully filthy, I was sure Father Thomas would not want to hear the details during her next visit to the confessional. I guess her long-repressed lust had given this virtuous single mother a proclivity for dirty talk...not that I was complaining, mind you! I figured better to be in love with a pretend slut than a real one like my ex.

We spent the remainder of the evening and as well as some early morning hours enthusiastically practicing the art of conception before collapsing from exhaustion. My new fiancée was certainly committed to giving me what I wanted; we woke up in time for breakfast, then afterwards she requested a late checkout so we could give it one more try. This time she kept her 'naughty librarian' glasses on, fining me 25 cents and shushing me to silence every time I groaned.

Coming home around noon still wearing our party clothes certainly raised some eyebrows of the gossip mongers in the Western Skies Mobile Home Park. Given Dawn's wholesome-church-going-quiet-single-mother reputation, I'm sure that everyone assumed I had corrupted and defiled her. (Given the amount of baby batter I'd left in her the previous night, that was actually somewhat accurate.)

All the disapproving scowls directed at me turned to happy grins, however, when my fiancée showed off her engagement ring. Mrs. Meyer was quite pleased as well, and Jacob was thrilled that I was going to marry his mommy and be his new daddy.

Now that I'd put a ring on Dawn's finger, it was no longer necessary to hide our sleeping together. If Jacob was in the trailer with us, at bedtime after he was tucked in, we would exercise restraint and just kiss and caress in bed. If somehow those kisses and caresses led to something more, well, Dawn's feather pillows did a great job at muffling our moans and cries.

Dawn surprised the heck out of me at Saint Francis church five Sundays later. Father Thomas had given a sermon on Genesis 1:28, all about being fruitful and multiplying; at the end of the Mass was the monthly blessing of the parish's expectant mothers. When he called all the pregnant mothers to come up for the blessing, Dawn stood up and joined them; it took every ounce of self-restraint for me not to jump up and shout for joy.

She wasn't showing yet, so Jacob was a little confused. My hands were still shaking as I explained he was going to be a big brother soon. After the blessing, she came back I threw my arms around her. "I love you with all my heart," was all I could say. In a few weeks, I'd be totally free of Tiffany and able to marry my new wife and, just as importantly, the mother of my children.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was late February, three weeks or so away from my divorce from Tiffany being finalized, and I couldn't wait to marry Dawn. My fiancée was now about 12 weeks along; given her tiny size, her baby bump was already showing, and I made sure to sing to it and kiss it every night. It felt so good to know this baby was truly my child; only the size of a tennis ball, there was already nothing I wouldn't do for it. There was no way in hell my brother could take this child away from me!

Just as I thought things were going smoothly, one Saturday while we were out grocery shopping, my cell phone rang. Caller ID told me it was my younger sister Janet calling. This in itself was very unusual. Janet lived in San Diego, and the last time we'd seen each other was at Mom's place for Christmas dinner, right before my marriage had been blown to hell. I'd heard nothing from her when I filed for the divorce, which was not unexpected. Janet and my asshole brother were really close when we were growing up, so I expected she'd support him.

This call meant either there was something wrong with Mom, or my piece of shit brother either needed to borrow money or he needed a kidney donor. If the call was about Mom, then we had something to discuss. If this call was about Eric, there was absolutely nothing to discuss, and I'd end the call immediately.

"What's up Janet? Is Mom OK?"

"Yes, she's fine."

"Great! Thanks for calling."

"Paul, wait! Don't hang up!"

"Sis, you know damned well I have zero interest in our piece-of-shit brother. Unless you're calling to tell me he's dead, we're done talking."

"Scott's not in the US. He wants his wife and girls back, so he's gone to India to beg Amrita to forgive him."

I had to laugh at the idea that my brother could be sorry about anything; the word didn't even exist in his vocabulary. "I could care less if that backstabbing bastard lives or dies. If he's in India, I hope he gets bitten by a cobra. Goodbye Janet." I ended the call.

Dawn wandered back over from the produce section and saw I was upset. I explained how my sister called and I'd cut her off, when my cell phone rang again. Janet again. Jeez Louise!

I accepted the call and snapped, "I told you Sis, I don't give a shit about Eric. Why the fuck are you calling me?"

"Paul, please don't cut me off! I'm not calling about Eric, I'm calling about Paul Junior." When she called him that, I could feel my warm happy heart transform into a glacier.

"His name is just Paul, he's not my son. In case you've forgotten, my name is no longer on the birth certificate. Eric's is. Would you like to fuck off now, or did you want to piss me off a little more?"

"Damn it, Paul, listen! Eric wrecked your life, and I can't make any excuses, so I won't even try. But our nephew never did anything, he's innocent! He needs our help!"

I flared up and shouted, "Oh, PLEASE, Janet! That little hell spawn is no relative of mine! He's dead to me, just like his parents!" I didn't mean it when I called Little Paul a hell spawn, he was just an innocent baby, after all. The mention of his name was a reminder of how much it hurt to lose him, and I was wanted to lash out at Tiffany.

By now I was getting so loud, I'm sure even the guy on the loading dock heard me. I shut my phone off, gathered up Dawn, Jacob, and our groceries; we paid and left. For the rest of the evening, with all the bad feelings the call had dredged up I was in an incredibly foul mood, and clearly it affected my two favorite people in the whole world. This, of course, made me feel even worse.

During Jacob's goodnight prayers, as usual he blessed his mom, his grandparents in the Philippines, and Mrs. Meyer, but when he came to me he said, "God bless my new Daddy, and please don't let him forget he loves me." At this point, I broke.

Scooping Jacob up in my arms, I sat on the edge of the bed and held him close, kissing the top of his head, sobbing the whole time and telling him how much I loved him. Dawn came in and gently pried the boy from my arms, tucking him in. She led me out of his bedroom, then went back in and assured him that I was just very sad, but would always love him. When she came out, she led me to our bedroom.

For all the months I'd been in Gallup I'd tried to be strong and kept my feelings about the betrayals and divorce locked down, all by myself. My sister calling had literally ripped the scab off those wounds. Emotionally crippled, I just stood there as my fiancée unbuttoned my shirt, removed my jeans, and laid me on the bed face-down. Then I felt her hands begin to rub my back, and followed not long thereafter by her lips kissing me from the base of my neck to my lower back. "You're going to be fine," she whispered, "we're in this together," soft Filipina accent making it sound like "togedder".

Hearing her say that I realized several important things: 1.) I was not alone. I had a loving woman and a sweet little boy who'd I'd soon be adopting. 2.) My soon-to-be-ex and my sister had no real control over me any longer, and 3.) I loved hearing my fiancée's accent, it was incredibly arousing.

Rolling over on my back, I reached for her and pulled her to me. She was wearing the same frumpy light blue dress and rubber sandals that she had on when I met her for the first time, and was sexy as hell in it! I wasted no time in getting the clothes off of her, kissing every square inch of bare skin my lips could reach. My erection popped up like an airbag on impact, and I quickly rolled us over and spread her legs, plunging in.

Before, due to the past abuse she'd suffered, I'd always been loving and gentle but for once, not today. From the depths of my heart I needed her, and my lust would not be denied. Surprisingly, she offered no resistance. I felt her lock her ankles behind my back as I plunged away, her fingers clawing at my back like she didn't want to ever let me go.

She began urging me on with a stream of invectives, "That's it, fill me up with your cock, I'm your dirty little whore, your baby is in my belly, fuck my pussy hard, cum inside me, I'm begging you!" I came so fast and hard that when my well-used penis finally softened and slid out, much of the seed I deposited began to ooze out of her.

Before I got up to change the sheets, now soaked with sweat and love juices, I laid with Dawn in my arms for a while. Shifting around to avoid the wet spot, I kept kissing her softly, repeating how I was the luckiest man in the world to have her, promising her she'd always be safe with me.

As I caressed Dawn's belly, I thought about my Mom. Now retired and living in the house I bought her in Fresno, she was probably sad since my brother and his family were now over in India. She'd lost access to her granddaughters, who she adored; given she'd always despised Tiffany, I doubted she'd be involved at all with Little Paul. Maybe it would make her happy to learn about her two new grandchildren. Squeezing my fiancée's sweet ass, I asked her, "How would you feel about meeting my mother?"

~~~~~~~~~~

The next day I called Mom and told her I wanted her to meet Dawn and Jacob. I was surprised when her response was not exactly enthusiastic, but said it would be nice to see me and have a little boy in the house again. Dawn and I both got approval from our jobs for a week's vacation; since the drive from Gallup to Fresno was 12 hours by car, we opted to fly.

The weather was cool, so both of us were wearing hooded sweatshirts. Dawn's hoodie did a good job of hiding her pregnant belly, so Mom would be delightfully surprised when Dawn took it off. When the car service dropped us off, the house looked good, better than when I bought it for her. My mother had some nice landscaping done in the front. Mom greeted us at the door, gave me and Jacob a hug, but only shook Dawn's hand, saying, "It's nice to meet you," and that was all. Given this was her future daughter-in-law, I suddenly got a cold feeling in my stomach.

We went into the kitchen and sat down at the small table. Mom served Jacob a glass of orange juice and a peanut butter sandwich, which he happily accepted, while Dawn and I just asked for coffee. Ever the good hostess, only after she'd finished making sure everyone was served properly did she sit down so we could talk. The bad feeling in my stomach turned to an iceberg when Mom started talking.

"You know, Paul, your divorce isn't final yet. Dawn here seems nice, and Jacob is a sweet boy, but don't you think it's too soon to get engaged again? I mean, it's been less than a year since Tiffany made her mistake."

Mom had definitely played me. Jacob was sitting in front of me so I couldn't yell. In a quiet voice, I growled, "Mother, I think Alzheimer's is affecting your memory. My ex-wife didn't 'make a mistake', she got pregnant from deliberately sleeping with my own brother! And no, it's NOT too soon! In a few weeks my divorce will be final, and I'll be starting my new life with a woman who loves me!"

Mom leaned over and patted Dawn on the hand. "I'm sure Dawn is very loving and kind, but you had a good life before Tiffany's bad decision. I just don't think you should rush into things. After all, it's still not too late to consider reconciliation."

That last word hit me like a Mack truck. Then, it dawned on me something wasn't right if my own mother -- who absolutely detested my ex-wife - was urging me to take the cheating bitch back. Then I heard a car pull up outside, and I realized I was caught in an ambush.

Sure enough, I heard the front door open, and two sets of feet come inside. My Mom said to Jacob, "Come on sweetie, the grownups are going be talking and you'll be bored. Let's go find some nice cartoons to watch together."

Mom and Jacob went into another room; two women walked in. One was my sister Janet, holding Little Paul, and the other was a woman I never wanted to see again: Tiffany. She greeted me softly, "Hello, Paul. You're looking good."

I gave her a critical glance. Despite all the beauty treatments and Botox injections, her 33-year-old face looked haggard and worn. I guess raising an 11-month-old infant alone could do that to you. Too fucking bad. "Thanks, you look like shit," I snapped. Then I asked Dawn to step out of the room and call us a cab; it was time to leave.

"It hasn't been easy." Before I could begin a vitriolic diatribe on how too goddam bad it wasn't easy, my sister handed the baby to Tiffany and slid a large brown envelope across the table at me. I didn't bother to open it, I just asked, "What the fuck is this, Janet?

My sister explained, "It's a California Judicial Council Form CIV-11, the official Request for Dismissal of your divorce. Tiffany would like to reconcile before the divorce is final, but since you were the party who filed, you're the one who has to sign the request to dismiss the case. Once you fill that out and sign it, I can file it in court for you."

This was all going way too fast. First my mother and now my sister were pressing me to put the brakes on the divorce? I held up my hand. "Wait a minute, something's not right. Who are you representing, Janet?"

"Since Little Paul is my nephew, I'm acting on Tiffany's behalf."

"So my own sister and mother are now on the side of my ex-wife who destroyed my LIFE?!?!" I guess my voice was getting angrier. Mom stepped in, taking the baby from my soon-to-be-ex.

Tiffany cut in, desperately pleading, "Paul, please think it over! You loved me and Paul Junior once, we can be a family again! The house is so empty without you!" If she thought calling him Junior would soften me up, she was wrong. It only reminded me that the baby came from Eric's balls, not mine -- and she'd tried to cover it up!

My voice louder, I snapped back, "Wow, that's ironic, isn't it? Back when I was in the house, all that space was taken up by you and my brother fucking; I was in the way!" I glared now at all three women. "The three of you are absolutely delusional! Tiffany, in what possible reality did you think that I would ever forgive what you did to me?"

Then I heard a noise and looked to my left. Dawn was now standing just outside the kitchen entrance, her eyes filling with fear. She needed me. I took a deep calming breath to control my anger; the last thing I needed was to get arrested on some trumped-up domestic violence charge. Janet was a lawyer, after all, and after what she'd pulled today I wouldn't put it past her to pull a manipulative stunt like that.

After what I said, Tiffany totally lost her composure. Sobbing now, she got on her knees, grabbed my legs and began rapid-fire pleading. "Paul please listen to me! I made a huge mistake, I didn't love Eric, he was just a stupid fling, I ruined everything and I'm so sorry! I'll always love you, and want you to stay my husband!"

I looked down at her, stone-faced. She stopped and took a breath, then the bargaining began. "If you stop the divorce, you can have everything back, and you'll be rich again. The house, the cars, the bank accounts, the credit cards, I'll put everything in your name, I'll even sign a post-nuptial agreement! I'll give you all my email and social media passwords, we can go to couple's therapy, anything!"

Wow. If I stayed married to Tiffany, I could be rich again, get back almost everything she'd taken from me. No more trailer park. No more Volkswagen van. No more Shipping Supervisor job. It would also mean no more homemade Philippine food, no more Saturdays at the La Montanita Market or Sunday Mass and then laundry, no more Dawn and Jacob... and no more self-respect. FUCK THAT!

Totally calm now, I responded slowly. "Tiffany, I have to hand it to you, this is indeed an interesting proposition. It's actually kind of funny when you think about it. See, if you'd made this offer before I left for New Mexico, I might have actually gone for it. Oh, wait, you and Eric were still fucking then, weren't you? Bad timing, I guess." I shook my head, and took another calming breath. It was time to take Tiffany to school.

"Let me help you get your facts straight. You're a cheater that fucked my backstabbing brother behind my back, and then tried to hide it. Now you want me back? Let me make this clear: Unless you can give me back every single dollar you took from me, stick that baby back in your womb, and un-fuck my asshole brother Eric, there is no coming back. As far as I'm concerned, both of you ceased to exist the night he stuck his dick in you."

Janet protested, "Paul, wait! Little Paul is innocent, you can't just walk away from him!"

I turned to my sister. "Oh, I can, and I will. That goes for you as well, Janet. I loved and trusted you, yet you sided with the woman that destroyed my life! We're done."

Finally, I turned to my mother. "Mom, you raised three of us single-handedly. I bought you this house because frankly, you deserve it. That being said, what even motivated you to try this little stunt to keep Tiffany and I together? You sure weren't singing that song when I married her, quite the opposite. You hated her, remember?"

Mom was looking at the ground, crying softly as she held the baby. "Please, Pauly's my grandson, he's innocent. I didn't do it for Tiffany, I did it for him! He needs a good father!"

I felt bile build up in my throat. Now it was my eyes tearing up. "Let me remind you, mother dear, that baby has a father, it's just not me anymore! What's more, it will never be me. I honestly feel sorry for you, Mom. Eric screwed you over like he did me. You've got three grandkids by two different mothers from my piece of shit brother, but given how his wife took her kids out of the country, I doubt if you'll ever see two of them again. That leaves you with Tiffany, who's never been a paragon of virtue. And until you disown my little brother, you'll never see my children again. No matter what you do, you lose!"

Shocked, Mom gasped, "What do you mean? There's more than just Jacob?"