Palau Palsu: Love For Sale

I wasn't certain whether it helped or hurt Lena. We still traded stories about what we were doing, but although she still seemed proud of what she was able to accomplish, her job was beginning to sound more and more like ... a job, not a cause. Her stories were more and more about the projects she was supporting, like the huge harbor bridge under construction, and less and less about the people she was working with.

Not that she sounded unhappy; she was still eager to talk about what she was doing, and everything else going on in her life. But the focus had shifted. Instead of personalities (and, frankly, politics) from work, she talked more about evenings spent exploring the city markets or her occasional group outings with her city friends. I also became more aware of something I'd already noticed -- she was spending every weekend she could in the country and seemed to have more friends among her childhood playmates there than she did in her parents' social circle.

She didn't try to deny it. "Rick, do you know what Dad's peers and their families are like? The majority are good people, but they're always aware of their social position. Most of them went to school abroad, as I did; they sometimes view things by the standards of the outside world rather than those of our own people. Too many of them don't really understand how most of our people think, or what's important to them. What it's like when you can't afford to travel to Paris or London on vacation or send your children overseas to university. What it's like to save for years to buy a new motorbike, or a second-hand truck to haul your produce to market. Most of them at least try. But a few are just snobs." She made rude noise before continuing. "They may not have expensive educations, but my village friends are just as smart as my high school circle. They understand the real world a lot better, what it's like when you're not rich and powerful. And they understand what it's like to make hard choices."

"OK. You obviously feel strongly about this. Got any examples?"

Lena thought for a moment. "Remember my friend? The one I told you was a part-time prostitute to pay for nursing school? She's back home now, working in the village clinic. Her boyfriend knows what she had to do to afford it. I'll be attending her marriage in a few weeks."

"Does anyone else know how she paid her way?"

Lena laughed at me. "Rick, of course, they do! When I'm up there I sometimes go swimming with the village ladies. She's not the only one I know with that tattoo. Many of them are mothers or grandmothers! It's not a big deal."

"I'd like to think I would be as accepting as her guy, but I'm not sure if I could. Your friends sound like good people. Tolerant."

"They are. If I could, I think I'd live in the village and only visit the city occasionally. It's beautiful there, and I like the people more. I'll have to take you there when you finally come. I think you'll like it, too." She gave a slight grin. "Especially if it's hot enough we're wearing sarongs."

We let it drop -- the conversation somehow shifted her descriptions of all the local fruits she'd missed while she was in the US. It was interesting, but mostly because she sounded so passionate about them. Lena promised me a chance to try them all, though after her description of durian fruit ("smells like hell but tastes like heaven") I wasn't sure whether I wanted to try it or run in fear.

Most of our conversations were equally light, and she always sounded happy when I called. But I was beginning to be concerned; it seemed Lena was increasingly avoiding mentioning anything to do with her work and looked uncomfortable when I brought it up. Uncomfortable enough I finally gave up asking, beyond a general "so, how are things going?", but it worried me. Should I be supporting her, or pressing her to return to the United States so we could be together? If it weren't for worries about how it would affect her ties to her family, I'd have done just that.

The one thing I was sure of was our relationship itself -- no matter how down she seemed when I called, I could usually cheer her up. I did my best to keep her balanced and happy.

And turn her on. On a physical level, I knew Lena wanted me just as much as I wanted her, and was increasingly open -- and kinky -- in how she showed it. She was still worried about being overheard when she was staying in town, but only because of the potential for gossip. But she was utterly shameless in the relative privacy of the family villa when she was unlikely to be heard by anyone except -- possibly -- her mother.

Probably her mother. By now, I suspected Ceci knew almost as much about our sex life as we did; at the villa, Lena wasn't very quiet or discreet. But if it didn't seem to bother them, I wasn't going to worry either. Even if Lena seemed to enjoy pushing the limits and -- I suspected -- seeing if she could shock her mother.

For instance: Lena and Ceci had taken a long weekend in the country. By the time of my Saturday call, Lena was quite relaxed and flirty. Ceci had picked up on that and started a round of teasing and double entendres before she left, but it never went beyond "mildly risque" while she was there. Things got racier once Lena and I were alone; almost immediately, she laughingly accused me of only calling her for sex. Rather than argue, I agreed enthusiastically and told her she could make a fortune as a webcam girl.

Lena giggled. "Really? My mom would be so proud. She's always told me to try my best at anything I do." She did her best to look demure. If she hadn't been idly playing with her bare breasts it might even have been credible.

"Then she should be very proud. Because you're really good at it. If you ever need a part-time job you might consider setting up a site. Or going into porn."

Lena blew me a kiss. "I'll keep that in mind. But if I want to do online sex work I'll need to go register as a prostitute first, and I really only want to be your slut, Rick. Not anyone else's."

I gave my best lecherous grin. "Good! I don't want you to be anyone else's, either. I'm jealous like that. But like the sound of 'your slut'. How slutty are you, little girl?"

She gave a sultry smile back. "For you? Oh, very. Let me show you."

Lena picked up a sizable 'rabbit' style vibe and held it up for the camera. "I just wish this was you." It came on with a buzz; she smiled at the camera and trailed it in slow circles around a wide dark areola before working inward. By the time she reached the tip, the little nub was hard and puckered, quivering in time with the toy's vibrations.

I let out a low moan as she repeated the process even more slowly on the other side. It took an act of will to keep my hand away from my cock; it wouldn't have taken much more stimulation for me to shoot. By then, it was hard and throbbing, pulsing with my heartbeat.

I shifted so she could see better and told her "Lena, you don't know how much I want you right now. How much I need you."

Lena smiled to see the evidence. Her expression was hungry as she stared boldly into the camera and ran her tongue lewdly around her lips. Once they were wet and shining, she sucked the vibe into her mouth for a brief but all too realistic blow job, down to the kiss she gave its tip at the end. I could almost feel the kiss, and the little tongue-flick she liked to give with it. I moaned again.

She held up the vibe. "I wish this was you, Rick. Promise me I won't have to wait too much longer for the real thing."

My voice was hoarse. "I wish it could be now, Lena. I promise to come for you." I tapped my aching cock. "And cum in you. Lots. Soon."

She giggled. "I'd like that. Now let me show you what else you can do when you're here."

As I watched, Lena squirted a little lube in her hands, and carefully spread it over her breasts; the golden mounds of her tits were soon glistening. She winked at me as she cupped them to point the stiff nipples to the camera.

"Rick, how come you never fucked my titties? I think they're big enough. Don't you?"

They were -- the vibe was as long, and nearly as thick, as my cock, but when she squeezed her tits together it all but disappeared as it slid between them, her waiting mouth capturing the tip at the end of every thrust. Why hadn't we tried that? I could only imagine how it felt to have those beautiful breasts wrapped around me, and the contrast between their smooth slick softness and the hot eagerness of her waiting mouth.

It was an incredible show, and it seemed to excite her nearly as much as it did me -- though it was brief, we were both breathing harder by the time she brought it to an end.

"What do you think, Rick?" Lena was smiling as she ran a fingertip around a slick -- and very stiff -- nipple.

"I think you've definitely missed your calling, babe. You should have been a porn star. And you're going to be tit-fucked within an inch of your life the first chance I get."

"So I got you all excited?"

"Take a look". She did. Her eyes widened. I had just thought I was hard before -- by now my cock had gone beyond "hard and throbbing" to "it almost aches it's so hard." And was swollen enough that I could have easily qualified as her porn co-star.

"I guess you did like that." She used a little-girl voice, with a strong dose of her mother's refined accent. Somehow, that made things even hotter. "Would you like more?"

Lena stood, then stepped back so I could see her whole body. With the close focus on her upper body, I'd almost forgotten she was still wearing her sarong. She smiled at me as she loosened the waist and pulled it away from her body. She posed for a moment.

"I have a surprise for you -- look!"

She did. As she positioned herself on the sofa, I could see the jeweled knob of a butt plug between her cheeks.

I couldn't contain my laughter. "You had that in all the time we were talking with your mom before she left? You are a nasty girl. God, I love you!"

She stuck her tongue out at me. "I had it in there all afternoon." Suddenly, her voice was serious. "I love you, Rick. I'll always be your slut, whenever you want me. Let me show you how much."

Lena settled back, thighs spread wide to give a clear view of her furry muff. She kept it neatly trimmed, but it had grown to a dense black triangular patch ending just above her clean-shaven cunt. She used one hand to spread her lips so I could watch as she slid first one, two, then three fingers of the other inside.

I expected her to continue -- she'd come to love finger-fucking herself on camera for me. But I was wrong; instead, after just a few leisurely pumps, she slid her fingers out again. Lena giggled as she gave her stiff little clit a flick in passing, then popped the slick fingers into her mouth. She suckled for a moment, then very ostentatiously licked each finger clean before running her tongue around her lips. "Mmm . . . I taste delicious. When we're together again I'm yours to enjoy whenever you want."

She snuck a coy peek at the camera. "You do want, don't you?" Her expression shifted to a wicked smile. "Right now, I want you. But if I can't have you, this will have to do." She held up the rabbit vibe again and slid it into her mouth.

Once she had it wet again, Lena slid the vibe down and began working it into her tight slit. Even if it looked a bit thinner than my cock, it was still pretty big, big enough that her opening was stretched tight around it. She flipped the switch on, moaning slightly as the first sensations hit. I watched intently as she slowly pumped it out and back in, slightly deeper each time, her stretched pink flesh clinging to it as it moved.

It finally was fully seated, and she quit pumping, just tensing and shuddering as rabbit ears made contact and began buzzing against her swollen clit. With a start, I realized I'd been holding my breath, and had been so tightly focused on her I'd somehow ignored my own throbbing need. I bit my lip as I stroked my swollen cock; it felt sinfully good, but it would take very little more to take me over the edge.

If I could, I wanted to finish with Lena. And she seemed to be almost in a trance, lost in her own sensations.

"Lena, I want you to come for me! Can you cum for me, darling?"

She could. Loudly, almost convulsively, the cords of her neck standing in momentary high relief as she came. I'm sure Ceci must have heard Lena's loud "Y-y-y-e-e-e-h-h!" at the other end of the house -- if the windows were open I wouldn't be surprised if it was heard in the village, the better part of a kilometer away.

And it unlocked something primal in my gut, an ocean away; suddenly, I was cumming myself; without any further direct stimulation, my cock was pumping half a dozen pulsing spurts of spunk up to coat my chest and shoulders. I was suddenly weak; if I hadn't already been sprawled on the sofa I might have collapsed.

I drew a long shuddering breath before I could speak. "Wow." I sounded hoarse.

Lena's voice was equally hoarse "Yeah, 'Wow' -- for both of us. I felt so full! I wonder if that's what being DP'd would feel like?" After a moment, she added "I can't remember when I came that hard. Or saw you shoot that hard. How much did you cum?"

I looked down at my dripping chest. "Enough that if I'd pumped all that up your cunt you'd probably be pregnant now. Along with your mother and any other woman close by."

Lena giggled. "Mom might like that. She always wanted another kid. But I'd like to wait another couple of years before we start ours, OK?"

"As long as we can practice a lot until then." I blew her a kiss and reached for a towel.

Chapter 4

I think that was our last session before things started to come apart. By then, it had been nearly a year since Lena had returned home. Somehow -- against all odds -- we'd managed to remain committed to each other despite the long separation, but the strain was telling on us both. Despite our brutal development timetable, I'd managed to schedule a couple of weeks off in another three months, but the trade-off was that my workload got even heavier to compensate. Seven days a week, a minimum of ten hours a day ... my calls with Lena were the only bright spot. Even if I was tired, I did my best to be up for Lena, and I could tell she was doing the same for me, but it was obvious she was unhappy.

She'd already been avoiding discussing her work, but she'd still been proud of what they were accomplishing; her problem seemed to be that she was mostly disinterested in the politics, ego-stroking, and posturing in the limelight that went hand in hand in getting things done. This was different -- if she mentioned work at all, she seemed unhappy. Disillusioned. Depressed. And she'd almost snapped at me a couple of times when I asked about what was bothering her -- whatever it was, she wasn't at all willing to share it. Instead, during our calls, she seemed determined to talk about lighter things -- her friends, a new restaurant she'd found, the plans she had for my visit ... Superficially, she sounded as bright and happy as ever, but she's a terrible actress -- you didn't need to know her as well as I did to realize the brittleness. It wasn't that she was unhappy to see me; if anything, she latched onto my calls with an almost desperate eagerness and our weekend love play grew almost frighteningly intense. But she seemed to be focusing on our times together to avoid dealing with her problems.

Finally, I gave up on being delicate. "Lena, what's bothering you?"

"There's nothing bother-"

I cut her off. "Bullshit! Lena, I know you. And it's obvious that something's bothering you. It has been for weeks. So don't try to lie to me. It's something at work, isn't it? What is it? What can I do to help you?"

She slumped. "You're right. It's something bad. But I can't tell you more -- it's not mine to share. And I need to stay here to help. My parents ..." Tears were running down her face. "Oh, I wish I'd never come back! I should have stayed with you like you wanted. I still love Palau Palsu, but I hate this job!"

Crap. I'd hoped I was wrong. "Lena? Is there anything I can do to help? Would you like me to take emergency leave and come now? If you need me there, I'll quit if I have to. Or you can quit and come here."

Oddly, the flurry of questions seemed to help. Tears were still trickling down her face, but she was visibly thinking about them. After a few long moments, she finally sighed. "No, there's nothing more you can do. I don't want to get you mixed up in this mess, either. Coming early won't help -- I need to be able to concentrate on trying to fix things. And I can't quit. I'm already too involved in the problem. God, what a mess!"

She gave me a sad smile. "Just ... be there for me, OK? Help keep me going. I promise, as soon as I get things straightened out, I'll drop this job forever. And be yours. Forever."

For a few weeks, the situation seemed to stabilize. Lena was still obviously stressed, but not as badly -- at least she didn't need to try to pretend to me any longer. But she still didn't want to tell me what the problem actually was, either. And if things were improving, it was only very slowly.

I couldn't let it alone. Lena only told me as much -- as little! - as she did during our private calls and remained determinedly upbeat whenever either of her parents joined in. But they obviously knew the situation; now that I knew what to look for I could see that although she was better at hiding it, Ceci was also showing signs of strain. Minister Tan, too, the occasional times he joined in.

I didn't really know or feel comfortable asking Lena's dad. But Ceci?

"Rick! Why are you calling me?"

"Ceci, what the hell is going on? Lena just cries if I ask, but won't tell me anything. She tells me it's not her secret to share. So it's either yours or her father's. Probably his, but you've got to know it. So tell me. It hurts me to see Lena like this, and I want to help."

Ceci's got better self-control than Lena, but I could see that I'd hit home. At least she didn't try to deny it; instead, she froze for a moment, then held up a hand as she visibly thought it through.

Her shoulders slumped. "You've already guessed it. My husband ... had been trading favors on some of his contracts. Kickbacks. Rake-offs. Like that. I knew something was wrong, even before Lena came home, but didn't really know the details. I'd hoped that together we could get him out of trouble." Her voice was emotionless.

My mouth twisted in a wry grimace. "And once she knew, of course, she wanted to protect her father. And you, Ceci. So that's why you wanted her to come back so badly." I glared at her.

She looked down. "I didn't know how bad it was. Not everything, but I knew we were spending more than even a Minister's salary would cover. I ... just hoped he wouldn't get caught. I love him, even if he has been an idiot. I don't want to see him sent to jail. I needed her help."

I snorted. "So now you've involved yourself and Lena. If I could, I'd have her drop everything and come back here. While she still can."

Ceci was crying, too. Not heavily, but her eyes were shiny and tears were starting to trickle down her cheeks. She nodded agreement to what I'd said. "She should. It's bad enough I wish she would. But at first, I was too selfish to tell her that, and now she refuses to leave." The tears were coming a little faster now. "We got him to stop what he was doing, but she says it will take a long time -- months -- to clean up the files. To hide the evidence. She told us both that as soon as she's done with that she's quitting her job to be with you."