This is chapter 14, part 4 of the Pleasing María novel. If you are under 18 years of age, or are offended by explicit descriptions of sexual activity or violence, or by strong language, please exit this site immediately. To view the Table of Contents of the novel click here. To go directly to the first chapter, click here. To read the latest novel post, click here. This is a rough second draft.
Chapter 14 – Part 4, Back in Antigua
Working on remote contracts in Guanajuato paid well but became tedious as I engineered similar solutions for similar problems. Acquiring deep knowledge of the problems, I saw recurring patterns within the problems, macro-level patterns, that could be resolved by generalized programs, and I contacted my strongest client with some ideas for developing these programs. They approved the concept with a commitment to buy or license my programs if I could deliver them. I started development, and the client referred me to a potential project at Lake Atitlán in Guatemala as a case study.
By coincidence, María needed to update her group of hotels, restaurants, transportation and destinations for her tours. So we pondered making the trip together. I had an ulterior motive – to advance our plans for our new wedding, and I wanted to check-out Antigua to see if it’d be possible after the passage of several years since María’s pole-dancing scandal there.
Outside of quick visits with her tour groups, María had refused to go to Antigua – she couldn’t face her disgrace with her family and the townsfolk. The trigger for our visit were reports María’s parents had health problems and needed closer supervision. Then María’s cuckold father died suddenly from another stroke, and her mother began failing quickly.
So we went for a visit to Antigua to see her mother. María hadn’t visited her family since the disgrace of the pole-dancing incident, and I decided to see for myself how she would be treated now. I still wanted the Catholic wedding, and I thought my presence would make a difference. I stayed two weeks, María wanted a month, so we rented a nice furnished house in the town center.
We were treated nicely by a few and courteously by everyone. The town whore torch had long ago passed to another woman, and María’s disgrace was largely overlooked in my presence. The priest had not forgotten, however, and he made it clear he would not marry us in the church without a severe penitence for María, and my sincere conversion to Catholicism. The marriage would have to wait.
María’s failing mother forgave María, and was thrilled to see the photos of grown-up Brett. María’s sisters were tolerant but still skeptical she had changed her whorish behavior, and only María’s brother absolutely hated and mistreated her. But we felt it was a good start and we felt positive about Antigua again. As usual, men hit on María constantly, but she refused all advances.
I spent three days at Lake Atitlán, and was encouraged to see what was considered to be an intractable engineering problem would be capably handled by the programs I was developing.
The day before my return trip, we saw DeepThroat and his cute indigenous wife in the distance, and we waved at each other. They were holding hands, as were we, and we commented about how strange are the twists and turns of life. My testicles ached as they walked away, I wondered why.
I tossed and turned that night, dreaming about DeepThroat and María. Dreaming, I saw DeepThroat binding my hands with my belt, snapping on my testicle ring, spreading my legs to the width of his kneecap, pulling the bangle down to the right angle, then driving his kneecap into the bullseye, splaying my testicles across the bangle edges. Reposition and repeat. Then he forced my flaccid penis into the bangle also, and ground my genitals with his boot against my bangle, cutting them to pieces. My whole body shuddered under the assault, like a man in death throes, until María shook me awake. María asked me what was wrong, and I responded DeepThroat was castrating me. She murmured, “a good idea”, as she returned to sleep. DeepThroat hadn’t destroyed me – he tried to claim María with power-fucking and love. He didn’t win her.
I returned home to Guanajuato the next day, leaving María in the vacation rental for the remaining three weeks. She asked for more time to reconcile with her family and the church, eventually staying four months. Our son and I missed her greatly, we had taken for granted how much her presence animated our lives. I reminded her of our rules, she couldn’t have any lovers while away, only sex partners, and she assured me she had no sexual contact at all, though some inflection in her voice made me wonder.
* * *
I continued my discussions with Brett about María and women. He recognized the contradictions in his double standard, in his own treatment of women, yet he insisted his future wife would have to be completely faithful. He continued to fuck every girl he could seduce, but he didn’t lie to them about love or their chances of marrying him. It was a start.
Brett began his Masters studies in the local university in Guanajuato, and I doubled down on my engineering programs. Many of our friends and acquaintances asked about María, and commented how ‘down’ I appeared. I certainly missed her very presence, the cariños, the spooning, the pleasure of her mouth, vulva and vagina.
And the pleasure, the humiliation, of her casual lovers. Just those two short weeks in Guatemala and her absence provoked my humiliation syndrome again. She assured me she wasn’t cheating, but my mind conjured fantasies of María with dark-skinned, black-penis lovers. I grew paranoid yet excited she might be cheating me. I missed knowing exactly when she was with another man, the knife twisting in my groin, the stomach contractions, the sweet pain as I squeezed my testicles against the bangle. I acutely felt a hole in my existence, and was ecstatic when she returned home. I went to the airport two hours before her scheduled arrival time, just in case her flight arrived early. It didn’t.
End of book content.
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