“Well, I didn’t want to spend the school budget.”
I hip check him away from thelumpiatray.
Right, because I attend Flores gatherings now. Frankie may think that her immediate family is objectively small, just her and her dad, but their extended family isbigbig. Big in numberandin love.
For someone coming from a very small immediate and extended family, this is all frankly very overwhelming at first. The first ‘small lunch’ I attend in Flushing, at a Tita Tess’s apartment, I probably meet fifty new people, all of whom have different titles attached to their name.
LikeTitaandTito, which directly translates to ‘aunt’ and ‘uncle,’ but can also mean ‘person in your family who is older than you by maybe twenty to thirty years’.
OrLolaandLolo,which directly translates to ‘grandma’ or ‘grandpa’ or ‘person in your family who is older than you by over thirty years’. But then some Lolas don’t like to be called Lola because it makes them feel too old, so it would do you well to remember each individual distinction.
Oh, and there’sAteandKuya, which I learn mean older sister and older brother, but also can roughly mean ‘person in your family who is older than you by at maximum ten years’.
There is no label for someone younger than you.
Actually, no,anakis a term of endearment. I think for someone who is much, much younger than you? Like, everyone calls Frankieanak.
But Dom and Frankie and Oliver and Georgia are always there next to me, giddily happy to explain the particular nuances of Filipino familial nomenclature, and their excitement makes the intensity more palatable. And all the Flores’s have welcomed me with open arms and plates of food, weaving me into the fabric of their family so tightly that it seems as if I’ve always been there. I thought this was strange, at first, expecting some sort of test or initiation, but Georgia said the same thing happened to her. The Flores family is justbiglove.
I learn that Frankie is the baby of the family, youngest by a few years. I realize that Dom’s support system slash network is, or at leastcould be, incredibly vast, if he just let go and simplyasked for help.
I learn just how deep-seated his reluctance is to let anyone into their lives, thinking somehow it may detract from his legitimacy as a parent. I’m still not quite sure why, or where this stems from. But I’ve managed to get him to start small, like leaving Frankie with Mama Flores for a few hours so we can do something mundane and couple-y, like going out to dinner or seeing a movie. I convince him to let me walk Frankie home (once, but at least it’s something), when something comes up at his job.
What he doesn’t know, however, or at least what I haven’t told him, is that Frankie spends almost every day after school with me in my office instead of going to her after-school program.
Frankie’s little head pops into my office every day around three o’clock, and she asks me if she can sit and hang until her dad comes. Since most of my work after the school day ends is desk-based, I don’t see why not. She just folds herself into a tiny ball and looks at books in the corner, and most times I forget she’s there. My snack drawer has significantly increased in quality and quantity, though.
She asks me, no,begsme not to tell Dom, which puts me in a tough spot. I get the sense that there’s some sort of interpersonal issue she has to deal with in her after-school program, and so she’d rather come to me. The first time I realize this, I’m shocked by the sudden, acute, almost violent feeling of mama bear protectiveness that cuts through my body, that someone dare mess with my baby. And it’s a completely new feeling. But upon further consideration, I realize the strange situation and power imbalance I have as the principal of the school, and I decide not to push it. She’ll tell me when she’s comfortable talking about it, and I’ll deal with it then.
I’ll tell him about it… eventually.
EIGHTEEN
Dominic
I’ve always beena diligent student. I’m used to being the best. I’m observant. I conduct research. I have a near photographic memory. I take copious notes.
It’s because of this, I think, that my girlfriend is currently dripping down her legs, while bent over her bed with both wrists tied to the middle slat of the headboard.
Ilike, nay,lovebeing the reason this fierce siren creature is dripping with want. I love being the reason all intelligible speech been reduced to helpless whining. Not to mention seeing her ass pink from my hand. And if all it takes is a slight bit of disrespect, then give it to me.
I let slip to Lina one night that I liked being rough with her, that it satisfied some archaic mammalian part of me. She consequently forced me to recite any and all sexual fantasies and proclivities I have, have had, or have yet to explore. Every single one. Then she made a list of all of them in the Notes app of her phone. I asked if we could make one for her, but she shamelessly forwarded me the running list she already had on her phone.
This all ended with her hogtied on the bed.
Afterwards, taking advantage of my melted state, she called Tita Gloria and Tito Ben and asked them if they could babysit Frankie for anentireSaturday, something I hadn’t let happen yet. I didn’t really have a choice, because she did it while I was attempting to regain conscious thought.
Well, it’s Saturday now. And we’re here at her apartment. And for the past maybe… I look at my watch. Forty-five minutes or so? I’ve alternated between spanking, fingering, licking. Using the various vibrators she has. I let her have my dick twice. Once, I made her choke on it. The second time, I shoved it forcefully into her pussy, thrusting twice, enjoying the feeling of her bare for myself, before pulling out and starting the edging over again. I haven’t let her come once.
“Dom,” she wails, as I sit in the chair across the room, sipping on a bottle of water, idly jacking myself to the view of her bent over the bed.
“Whatever it is you want, you haven’t begged me hard enough for it.”
“Please,” she whispers. “I need you. I need your big cock inside me.”
“I’ve already given it to you, beautiful. Don’t be a spoiled brat.”
“Please.”
