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Message-ID: <40415asstr$1042380607@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "story Ace" <storyace@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} My jungle girl part 2 of 2, M/f, M/F, M/F/F,interrac, oriental, cheat, voy, wife
Date: Sun, 12 Jan 2003 09:10:07 -0500
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storyace@hotmail.com

The rest of my stories are at; http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/aceinthe_hole/www//
and; http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/aceinthe_hole/   [in plain text]



Read; My jungle girl part 1 first!
if you didn't find it here, go to my webpage above and select it from the 
index. it's a good story.

My jungle girl, part 2; by Ace

M/F, M/F/F, interr, rom, cheat, wife...





It was like our first time together all over again; the fun, the passion, 
the sex. We were married in a civil ceremony, as soon as we could get the 
paperwork done.

We did it like rabbits, again and again. We touched, kissed, massaged each 
other, loved each other. I screwed her like I never knew was possible; I 
couldn't stop, I never wanted to stop, why should I stop? She was my wife, I 
loved her, she was mine!

We were so incredibly happy; I was sure we were doing the right thing. We 
would live together forever, we would share our hopes and dreams, we would 
have a home and start a family; she would be my exotic jungle bride, and I 
would introduce her to my friends and family with pride when we got home.

There was just one little glitch; she still couldn't get a visa.

"Now that she is married to an American citizen, she'll have to apply for an 
Immigration visa." Said the officer, crumpling up the visitor's visa form 
and throwing it at the trash can.

"But I understand it takes six months to process an immigration visa." I 
explained, "I have to start work in a few days. We'd like to have a visitors 
visa so my wife can accompany me home, and then we can apply for immigration 
from there."

"I'm sorry, sir. It doesn't work like that; persons married to U.S citizens 
are not eligible for visitor's visas. The procedure takes six months, there 
are no shortcuts."

Chuey didn't want to go back to Stimjol. "They will all laugh at me! They 
will say I go with white men and they only dirty me and send me back." She 
cried.

I couldn't leave her; not again. I phoned my boss and told him my situation; 
he was sympathetic, but couldn't hold my position open for that long.

I could find another job when we got home, I thought. We rented a small 
cheap apartment, and began our lives together indifferent to the squalor of 
our surroundings. We lived on our hopes and dreams, and on our love.

We could enjoy all the sex we liked for free, but rent and food had to be 
bought with cash. I was soon running out.

I called my parents; they asked me how I could live without a job for that 
long, gently informing me they couldn't help. I realized then that Chuey and 
I would have to fend for ourselves, and a rift was opened between my parents 
and I that has never completely healed.

Chuey found a job at a hotel, but it paid very little.

I tried to find something to do, but it was quite hopeless.

Chuey told me she was pregnant. I was quite stressed out over our short-term 
problems; the timing could have been better. But she was so happy when she 
told me, that I couldn't do anything but tell her I was glad.

We were a month behind on our rent, and the frustration and poverty overcame 
my pride; once more, I phoned my parents, to beg for help.

"I'm sorry, son, I can't help you." My Dad said to me down the scratchy 
phone line, "If you need a ticket home, I'll send you one."

"That's great dad, but couldn't you help us until Chuey gets her visa? We 
only need a couple of hundred bucks a month."

"I'll send you one plane ticket, one way." He said with finality.

I realized then that I had no one but my jungle wife; no one who loved me, 
no one I could count on. I was as much an orphan as she was.

When I told Chuey about it, she told me her better news; she had got a job 
at another hotel, as an assistant manager.

The pay was much better, enough to live on. The tension eased, and the 
months slid away a little more easily.

She was no less attractive to me pregnant; her breasts grew into plump 
fruits as her belly swelled. She was more beautiful than ever, my young 
jungle bride. I would stroke the stretched skin of her belly as we made 
love; she was as passionate as ever, and we did it backwards, forwards, and 
sideways.



I tried to find the strength to be patient, did the housework, and never 
forgot to tell her I loved her.







"I'm very sorry, sir, but we have a big backlog of cases." The American 
consul told me. These things take time, especially in a case like yours, 
were the girl has no family and is from a rural area."

"But we're stranded here! We want to start our lives."

"You'll just have to wait. We have to thoroughly investigate all applicants 
for US residency. It's for your own protection."



Chuey stopped working for the last few weeks before delivery; then we had a 
beautiful little girl for me to care for while my young wife went back to 
work.

Somehow, the work changed her; it seemed to tire her, she was often moody. 
Still, for the most part, we were happy with each other's company, although 
we didn't make love like we had done at first, even after she had recovered 
from childbearing.

I could see my young wife was stressed by her job.  I thought I understood; 
she wasn't accustomed to big city life, pollution and harassment, the hectic 
pace of it all.  I didn't find out for a while that it was much more than 
that.

And I have to say that I wasn't very happy either; I was bored to tears, I 
wasn't used to having so little to do.  But I did my best to keep myself 
calm, convincing myself that it would be over soon.  As soon as the 
paperwork came through, I could take Chuey home, get a new job and start my 
life with my new family.  A nice house in the suburbs, Chuey would learn to 
drive, things would be as they should be.



Then came about the worst news I could imagine; visa refused.

I stormed into the consulate, demanding to see the official in charge of our 
case.

"Sit down, Mister Blake. I understand you're upset, but did you really think 
you could bring a woman like that into America? Didn't you think we'd find 
out?"

"Find out what?" I demanded, in anger and alarm.

He stared at me for a moment, then asked, "Do you know what your wife does, 
Mr. Blake?"

"She's assistant manager at the sundown hotel." I answered.

"She works at the sundown hotel, Mr. Blake; but she is not in management. 
She's, ah; in Entertainment, Mr. Blake. The kind of entertainment we do not 
encourage in our country."

My head started to spin; I felt nauseous. "No. It isn't true." I heard 
myself saying.

"My investigator simply went to her place of work that you gave us, and 
asked for her. She..." I saw him kill a nasty smirk that was about to slide 
over his face, remembering what my relationship was with the woman involved. 
"When he met her, her function at the hotel was clear. I really am sorry Mr. 
Blake."

"He was mistaken! Chuey is just a very outgoing person, she's very unlike 
most Indonesian women. It's from living with me, she's taken on a lot of 
western ways."

"Mr. Blake; my man was shown to a room, and your wife then entered, scantily 
clad. There was no doubt."

"It was a misunderstanding! I demand you change your decision!" I shouted.

"All right. I'll tell you what isn't in the written report. My man availed 
himself of your wife's services. He spent two hours with her, and said she 
was `very very good', and `worth the price'. Are you satisfied, Mr. Blake? 
Or should I repeat to you his graphic descriptions of your wife's talents?"

I left the consulate in a daze, and headed towards the sundown hotel.

It was hot, and I arrived in even worse condition. It was a middle priced 
little place, catering mainly to Indonesian businessmen who were in town for 
a day or two. I knew the manager well by then.

"Hey, David! What are you doing down here?" Sen asked me.

"I need to see Chuey." I told him.

"She's with a client right now, David." He said, "She could be a while. Is 
everything alright?"

I fell into the chair next to him. "I don't think so. What exactly is she 
doing with this client?"

"Well, you know, David. The usual things. Why?"

"No, I don't know. What things? What does Chuey do here, Sen?"

He looked a bit shocked; "You really don't know?"

"I need to know, Sen. Tell me now!"

"You are very upset, David. Have a drink." He said, ordering it with one of 
his boys.

"Sen," I said, calmly but seriously, "I need to know. I've married her, we 
have a daughter. Tell me, Sen."

He looked truly sad. "Come with me, David." He said, standing up.

He led me through the kitchen, to a locked store room. He unlocked the door 
with a key he kept on his belt, and beckoned for me to enter. It was dark 
inside; he lifted the edge of a cloth that was nailed to the wall. There was 
a crack under it. I put my eyes to the crack.

In the next room was my wife, the mother of my child. She was naked, astride 
a very happy looking chubby Indonesian man of perhaps fifty or sixty years. 
She was smiling down at him and lifting her slim body up and down, while his 
penis slid in and out of her.

It was impossible; it couldn't be my sweet little girl, my child bride!

She laughed and said something in their tongue as he toyed with her plump 
milky breasts; she stopped for a moment to let him suck some milk from her, 
depriving our child of what should have been hers.

It was her, it was my Chuey. Making love with an old man for money.

"How long has this been going on, Sen?" I whispered.

"Since she came to work here, almost a year ago. Really, you didn't know?"

"But she was pregnant!"

"Men pay extra. Even made a film. You want to see?"

I couldn't take my eyes away from the peephole. It was too horrible and 
fascinating, ghastly and surreal; was it really my wife? Yes. Was she really 
doing it to him? Yes.

The peephole was well placed. The old man's stiff member could clearly be 
seen as Chuey pushed herself down against it, again and again.

She stopped again, to kiss him. Then he rolled her over, onto her stomach. 
She lifted her hips, and he held his cock in his hand as he fed it once more 
into her, from behind now.

I looked up; Sen had left me alone with my shame. There was no one around in 
the kitchen; food preparation wouldn't start for an hour yet.

I watched helplessly, unable to control my self loathing at my voyeurism.

They chatted while they did it; they seemed to both be quite comfortable. He 
told a joke, and they both laughed. He said something; a soft command, and 
she rolled onto her side, lifting one knee to her chest while keeping her 
other leg straight. He pushed it in again. He started to mumble: she 
answered him a bit breathlessly. Their tempo increased: she started to speak 
to him quietly but earnestly, obviously knowing him well enough to know what 
he needed to hear.

Finally, he groaned out his orgasm, holding my wife's hand and shoulder as 
they smiled at each other knowingly.

He pulled out after a short time, and went to take his shower. She followed 
him. I could hear them talking, and laughing occasionally, but I couldn't 
see what, if anything, they were doing with each other.

I stepped back outside, onto the veranda. Sen was waiting there for me with 
a whiskey.

"How did you think she could earn enough to keep you all, David? She's just 
19 years old, with minimal education."

"I don't know. I guess I must be an idiot. I thought she'd been hired since 
she was pretty and spoke good English."

"She was." He answered. "She only does this for you and the child, David. 
She's always saying how when you all go to America, life will be different. 
She's very high class for her age, David. She only works by appointment."

I told him what had happened at the consulate.

"Shit." Sen said.

"What should I do now?" I asked him. "I don't want to live like this. I 
can't live like this."

"Will you leave her now?" He asked.

"I don't know." I answered. I was married to a whore! What would I tell my 
parents? A third world whore is your daughter in law, and mother of your 
grandchild. Isn't that great?

"She loves you David. I tell you, she's a great girl, one of the best I've 
had here. I earn a lot of money from her, but I really like you both. I 
would be so happy for you to make it back to America together."

"I'll have to think. There must be a solution."

"Will you confront her with this?"

"I'm not sure. I'm confused right now, I'm not sure of anything." I said.

"She doesn't know about the crack in the store room." He said. "I'd 
appreciate it if you don't tell her. She would be very angry."

Despite myself, I had to laugh. Even Sen didn't want to have to face Chuey 
when she's angry.

"Listen, David;" he said, "don't confront her just yet. Get your head 
straight first, figure out what you want to do."

The man came out then; Chuey's customer.

"Was everything good?" Sen asked him [I knew a smattering of the language by 
then].

"Very good! She's a great girl, Sen. I'll see you next week."  He said, 
heading for a waiting car.

"Does Chuey have more... work today?" I asked.

"Yes. She has an air force captain in an hour, and a special in the 
evening."

"A `special'?"

"Mostly, all her customers are regulars. She's very particular, David, she 
won't serve just anyone. But tonight she will entertain one of our ministers 
with another lady."

I went home; it was time to feed my little girl, which either Chuey [breast 
feeding] or I [with a bottle] did ourselves. But as I finished, I thought of 
the air force man; I was going nuts, I had to get over there, I wasn't sure 
why.

It had been going on for over a year; one more time wouldn't matter. But I 
felt the need to be there, so I left my daughter with the neighbor woman 
again, and went to the hotel.

I didn't say anything; I just nodded towards the kitchen. Sen sighed, took 
the key off his ring and handed it to me.

"That's the only copy, David. Be careful with it." He said. I don't think it 
was the key he was worried about.

The kitchen staff pointedly ignored me as I entered the storeroom of my 
shame. I closed the door behind myself.

I sat in a chair that was there, and looked through the crack.

My young wife was alone, prettying herself. She brushed out her lovely hair, 
then applied cosmetics. She was very proficient, and soon she looked like a 
poster girl. She had never worn anything like that in my presence; I 
realized then how far I had taken her from her jungle home. She was naked, 
but she then dressed herself in a sexy turquoise dress that just covered her 
pretty ass, but was none the less slit to the hip.

She filed her toenails until her lover arrived a little while later.

She slipped on a pair of open high heeled shoes that I  had had the pleasure 
of seeing her in before, and opened the door with an exclamation of 
affection. She threw her arms around the neck of a very handsome and fit 
looking local man who was probably in his late thirties. He lifted her from 
the ground with his embrace as they kissed.

Food was brought by one of the boys, and the air force man and my wife ate 
together and talked. He did most of it, while she mostly made little "oohs" 
and "Ahs", or made a little laugh at an anecdote.

She was wonderful. The most beautiful and sexy little dinner companion a man 
could ask for; my wife was his fantasy girl. I wondered why he needed to pay 
for such services; perhaps he was married unhappily, and couldn't be seen 
with another woman in public. Or perhaps he liked the shallowness and 
absence of commitment.

The meal over, my wife rose and disrobed for the man, and sat on his lap. He 
held her and kissed her, caressing her body. I couldn't see everything, but 
I could imagine where his hands were; playing with the clitoris of my woman, 
inserting his dirty finger into her.

She rose and lay down on the bed. She watched him, smiling silently while he 
undressed. His brown cock was stiff in front of him; somehow, I was happy to 
note it was smaller than mine. As if that made any difference, as if it made 
my devastation any less total.

They did it in a missionary position for about 10 minutes. Chuey writhed and 
cooed at him, stroking his back. She started to grunt and push back against 
his thrusts; she cried quietly with orgasm.

As he tensed, shooting his seed into her unprotected body, I saw something 
though. While Chuey was groaning with passion and stroking her lover's lean 
ass and his head, she was looking at the clock. She was faking, I was sure 
of it.

Why did it make it better if she didn't enjoy it? Perhaps  she even did 
enjoy it, but at least she didn't come. That was kept for me, I thought. She 
was still mine, she loved me; she did this to support me, she was keeping me 
at huge cost to herself.

As the air force man left, I headed for the door of the room.

"Oh shit. Shit shit shit" said Sen, quick wittedly blocking the door to the 
room containing my wife.

"This is not a good time, David." He said. "Very important man coming, bad 
time, bad time. Chuey needs time to get ready, David. You talk to her later, 
not now. Important man, David, he will make big trouble if Chuey isn't 
ready. We don't want trouble, do we, David?" he asked somewhat desperately.

The small man pushed me back to the lobby, still talking; "Damn, David! Not 
now, anytime but now! You'll ruin me! I was full open with you, I even 
showed you the storeroom. Don't do it to me, David, please. You just go in 
the storeroom and watch, after you can figure out what you want to do."

He was pushing me back into the little room; he closed the door behind me. 
He locked it.

I thought about breaking the door down; but the truth was, I didn't need 
more trouble, either. I was already up to my neck in it. I looked through.

Chuey lay still on the bed for a while before rising to use the shower. I 
almost choked as she emerged; she was so young, so lovely. I was wracked 
with the pain; I didn't know if I could endure it, I didn't know what to do. 
There was no one I could even talk to about this; my wife was a whore, and I 
had been living from the money she earned by having sex with other men. She 
had born my child, and now was supporting us all by selling her youth. Why 
hadn't she told me?

I cried quietly to myself, glad to be alone in the dark with my grief and 
shame.

Time seemed to stretch before me; there was no escape from this darkness, 
from the grief in my soul. If it weren't for our daughter, I might have left 
her, shamefully run away from this impossible situation. There was no way to 
support her here, and no way to take her away. It wasn't my fault, I kept 
telling myself; but then, whose fault could it be if not mine?

In my heart, I knew I had to accept the blame. I had taken her virginity in 
the small village; I had brought her down to the city. I had made promises 
I'd been unable to keep. I should have checked on the procedures first.

I heard voices from the other room; I looked through my crack to see a blond 
woman had entered.

I recognized her as a woman I'd seen at the hotel a few times over the last 
few weeks; I had exchanged a few pleasantries with her. Her name was Tina, 
she was middle European, young and pretty, and was traveling with another 
woman.

"I'm really nervous, Chuey." She said. "I've never done something like this 
before."

"Me neither." said my young wife.

"Oh come on, Chuey! I've been here for weeks, I've seen the men coming and 
going."

"I mean I never do it with three, two girls together." Chuey clarified.

"Oh, right." Said Tina. "What's this guy like?"

"I don't know. First time with him." Chuey said. "Why do you do this, Tina?"

"We got robbed, we have no money at all to get home. We're from Poland. I 
don't know if you know our country, but we can't get any help from there. 
What about you, I thought your husband is American, why do you do it?"

"We also get no help. Please, you don't talk to David about this."

"It's not something I ever want to talk about, Chuey. Do you know what this 
man will want us to do?"

"Two ladies together. Wants to see two ladies together, show."

"I see." The white woman said. Should I get undressed as well?"

"No. I will put clothes now. We take off again after he come."

Chuey dressed as they continued their conversation in the strange English 
people speak when it's not the mother tongue of either party.

"I'm really nervous about this." Tina said as my wife put on a black sheer 
dress that displayed the shape of her petite body perfectly, "I don't really 
like it with men."

"I don't either." Said Chuey.

"Really? Then why did you get married? Obviously, it wasn't for his money!"

They both had a laugh.

"I like it with David!" Chuey clarified, "Not with other men, I mean."

"Ok, I see." Said the Polish girl. "I don't like it with men at all. Well, 
not much. I guess it doesn't matter, it's just a job."

They talked some more, and Chuey glowed as she told Tina how we would soon 
be traveling to America, and she would no longer have to do "This terrible 
thing." I thought my heart would break from shear grief; what would I tell 
her? What were we going to do?

"Can I do that for you?"  Tina asked my wife as she started to brush her 
lovely hair.

"Okay."  Chuey said, handing her the brush.

"You have such lovely hair, Chuey."  Tina said, brushing it. "It helps me to 
relax, brushing your hair like this."  She stroked my young wife's face, and 
Chuey looked up at her; there seemed to be some kind of connection there, 
they were united in their misfortune.  Their dismay and anticipation at what 
they knew they would soon have to endure.

"Did you ever make love with a woman, Chuey?"  Tina asked.

"No."  Chuey answered evenly.

"But you thought about it?"

"Love with woman?  No, never."  Chuey answered.

"But you're thinking about it now."  Tina continued, holding my wife's head 
against her stomach as she continued to brush.

"Yes."  My wife admitted.

Tina dropped the subject, at least verbally.  She stood behind my seated 
Chuey, stroking Chuey's face gently with her fingertips as we waited.



The door opened and the minister entered. He was a small but powerfully 
built looking man of 50 or 60 years, with slate grey hair and round glasses. 
He shook hands with the girls, and spoke in Indonesian while looking at 
Tina; he smiled at her in a somewhat predatory manner.

"He says you are very very pretty, and he likes to know you." translated 
Chuey.

Tina laughed; "Well, I guess I like to know him too, then."

The man stepped up to the blond and touched her face gently for a moment 
before embracing her and kissing her. It looked funny, since she was 
considerably taller than him.

Tina was long and thin, with small breasts and a very pretty face. She held 
the short powerful man in her arms, and her hair fell around his face as she 
bent her head to reach his lips with hers. Chuey stood and waited.

The man released Tina, and sat in a chair. He spoke to Chuey.

"He wants to watch us... together." She said to her new colleague, looking 
embarrassed.

"Well, sweetheart, that part I can handle." Tina said.

The girls kissed, hesitantly at first, in the middle of the room while we 
watched. Tina started to remove my wife's sparse clothing.

The Minister grinned in delight as the girls continued the show; they were 
soon naked, and they moved to the bed. Tina looked at the man, and spread 
Chuey's thighs so he was looking straight in; she toyed with Chuey's private 
parts with her fingers, and then put her face against Chuey's sex.

My wife grunted involuntarily as Tina started to lick her, while their 
customer watched with a look of glee on his face.

They switched after a short time, and Tina lay on her back with her legs 
spread while Chuey licked her. The Minister played with my wife's ass and 
said something.

"He says you should turn over." Said Chuey.

My wife looked on as the older Indonesian man caressed Tina's trim white 
ass, and then started to kiss it. I watched his hands sliding across the 
white woman's body, toying with her firm little breasts and pinching her 
nipples.

"Hey! Not so hard!" Tina complained, "They're not rubber, you know."

Chuey sucked her customer's dick, then the man screwed Tina for a while. It 
was a strange thing to watch; the long thin blond lay on her back passively 
as the short stocky man's ass rose up and down between her thighs; her hands 
rested on his shoulders and he sucked her nipples.  My wife sat next to them 
silently.

After a few minutes, he pulled out and lay on his back between them, then 
Tina sucked him while he fondled and kissed Chuey. He took his time; he was 
not a novice at taking his pleasure.  He didn't seem to mind the lack of 
passion in the women he had hired; I guess he was used to it.

He grunted something to Chuey, who translated for Tina; "He says lie on your 
stomach.  Spread your legs."

The man pulled Tina's pale ass cheeks apart, and I could see his fingers 
toying with her ass hole.  Slowly but firmly, he pushed his forefinger 
inside.

"Hey!"  Said Tina, "What's he doing?" What does he want to do, Chuey?"

Tina was unsure about him taking her in the ass, but Chuey told her he had 
paid extra for "kinky", so he could if he wanted.

"I knew this job sounded too easy." Said Tina, surrendering.

The man put his little dick to her tight bung hole, and pushed himself in. 
he chortled something, obviously very happy about it all.

"He says you are a very good girl, and very pretty, too." Said Chuey. "He 
says you... your ass... he likes it."

It was strange to see how embarrassed she was at translating his remarks. 
After all, she was part of it herself, she had given him head and licked 
Tina's crotch. My wife; the bashful prostitute, I thought.

"I can't believe I'm doing this." Said Tina, as the minister grunted like a 
pig and pushed his dick around the inside of her large intestine. "I only 
barely let men do it to me at all.  How can you stand it, Chuey?"

"Very bad at first."  My wife told her, as the Minister continued to fuck. 
"After time, gets easier.  Don't feel it anymore; like cleaning or cooking.  
Just do it."

"That's terrible, Chuey." Tina said, looking up at my wife.

The Minister pulled his dick out, and told Chuey to get on her back and 
spread her legs.

"Hang on there a minute."  Tina interrupted; "I'm no professional, but I 
know that can give you a nasty infection."

Tina made the minister come with her into the bathroom so she could wash his 
dick before she would let him screw Chuey. I had to like the woman after 
that.

I watched him take my wife in the front and then in the rear. Chuey was 
facing me while he did it to her, and she didn't look very happy about it.

He came, and then smoked a cigarette lying in bed between the ladies. He 
grunted an instruction.

"He says you suck him again."  Chuey said.

"What?  Shit, I thought we were done."  Tina said.

The man became angry; I couldn't understand his words, but his tone was 
unmistakable.  He was shouting at both of them; Chuey was trying to calm him 
down.

He struck my wife across the face with an open palm; the action sent a jolt 
through my body.  Somehow, I had settled into my passive voyeuristic role; I 
had momentarily surrendered, letting the situation take its course.  I had 
been afraid to interfere, it had seemed so futile.

The evil little man smiled; he enjoyed it, he enjoyed brutalizing women.  He 
turned suddenly and punched Tina in the stomach.  I was shocked at such 
brutality to a woman; a woman he had just had sex with.  Chuey started 
screaming, and the bastard kicked her in the crotch.

Something snapped inside me then; something that needed snapping.  I felt 
strength surging into my limbs, and resolve surging in my brain; I would not 
let this pass.  Fuck the consequences, this was too much.  It was time for 
me to take charge of my life again, and to stand up in the face of 
adversity. My foot struck the inside of the store room door, and it sprung 
outward.  I saw a small piece of hardware, the feeble latch, spinning across 
the hallway as I left my hideaway.  I turned the corner and headed for the 
door to the boudoir.  Chen was in front of the door, with two of the kitchen 
boys.

They were beefy looking young men, and I suddenly realized they performed 
more than one function; they chopped vegetables and cleaned in the kitchen, 
and when necessary they intervened with difficult customers.

"David!"  Chen said, seeing me; "What to do, David? He is important man!"

All three of them looked confused; there were screams coming from the closed 
room, screams for help; I could hear the thumps of bodies hitting the walls.

they wanted to help the women, but didn't have the courage to stand up to 
the local power broker.

And to my surprise, I did.

"No, David!"  Chan said, as I pushed him out of the way and lined myself up 
at the door; but neither he nor the kitchen boys stopped me.  The impact of 
the door against my heel felt good; the cracking and splintering of wood 
sounded good.  A second blow, and the door was weakening.  There was blood 
on my mind, and no fear in my heart as the third kick blasted the door open.

Tina was collapsed in the corner, blood on her face.  She was trying to get 
up.  The minister was shaking my wife against the wall, Chuey's dark head 
hammering against the plaster.  The man turned to look at me; his shriveled 
little dick looked ridiculous, hanging between his short muscular legs.  I 
had a moment of doubt; he looked slightly dangerous.

He let Chuey go, and approached me with bunched fists.

"Get out."  He growled in English.

"You get out."  I answered, holding my ground.  I was ready to kill him with 
my bare hands, but somewhere a self-preservation instinct had crept into me; 
it would be better to avoid a punch-out with a government minister.

Keeping an eye on him, I circled around him and lifted Chuey.  I reached for 
Tina's hand, and pulled her to her feet.  The three of us backed out the 
shattered door.



Well, I suppose you're now expecting some great ending where I end up with 
the two women both in love with me; but that's not what happened.

I was very afraid of repercussions; I collected Chuey's wages from Chen, we 
wished Tina and her girlfriend all the best, and Chuey and I went to another 
island to start fresh.

I put on outward show of love and support, but inside I felt that there was 
a stone attached to my heart; I was stranded in the Third World, strange 
slanty eyed people speaking a language I didn't yet understand had power 
over me.  My wife was an Indonesian whore.

My instincts were to flee, leave this troublesome place. But I had resolved 
that I wouldn't abandon her.  I couldn't abandon Chuey and our child; I 
could never live with myself if I did.

Realizing that I could forget about returning to America with my tainted 
family in the near term, I applied for a job with several multinational 
firms that have factories in Indonesia; I had an honors degree in electrical 
engineering.

It took time for the chasm between my wife and I to slowly heal.  She was 
brutalized not only by the horrendous scene I'd witnessed, but by the whole 
horrible period; and so was I.

She had lied to me about her work to protect me from the shame of it.  It 
was difficult for me to love her for a while.  I kept having terrible 
dreams; strange man holding my wife and their arms, old men and young men, 
evil looking men for the most part.

But then I woke one night to Chuey crying in her sleep; I stroked her face, 
waking her.  I could see her eyes opening in the moonlight flooding through 
our window; as she saw me, her body relaxed and her face softened.

"Will you stay with me, David?"  She asked.

"Of course I will."  I answered her, trying to sound more confident about my 
answer then I really was.

"Even though I've done such terrible things?"  She asked, rolling onto her 
side and putting her arm around my naked body.

"If you promise me you'll never ever do them again."  I told her.

I held her tight against myself in the warm night as she sobbed softly; 
"Never.  I didn't want to, I don't want to.  Stupid, stupid mistake David. I 
only wanted us to be able to stay together, I was so afraid you would leave 
me again."

It had been weeks since we've made love; weeks since I'd felt anything but 
agony in my heart.  But the pain started to lift, and so did my cock; my 
wife's soft little hand gripped me as she cried against my shoulder; gently 
she stroked my penis and balls, carefully rekindling my desire for her.

I kissed away her tears, kissed her lovely little mouth.  Slowly, I began to 
love her again.

Later, as my cock slid slowly into her abused body, I felt that flood of 
endorphins, that rush of pleasure that I'd only ever felt when making love 
with this woman.  No other girl had done this for me, no one made me feel 
this way except Chuey; and despite my doubts, she still did.

Despite all that had happened, despite how she had been polluted, she was 
still my jungle bride.  My sweet, bright, beautiful girl.  If I were to 
leave her, I knew I would never find anyone to replace her.

We made slow sad love; after some time, I felt her pain easing.  I was 
plugged into her in more than one way.  Her pain eased, and I began to love 
her more vigorously, passionately.  When at last she came, it wasn't an 
earth shattering screaming orgasm; but it was the beginning of the rest of 
our relationship.

My pent up sperm erupted inside her, the pleasure confused by the lingering 
pain.

I looked into her deep dark eyes; swimming deep in the simmering pools of 
her soul.  She was no innocent, despite where I had found her.  She wasn't 
stupid, and no longer naive.  She was very vulnerable, vulnerable in every 
way; it's up to me to protect her, to keep her, feed her and house her.  
What was the use without loving her?

And still I held her, still I was submerged in her flooded dark eyes.  Her 
young breasts were pressed against my chest, the swollen breasts that had 
fed my child.  Her slim form seemed to be made to fit against me.

Chuey loves me.  Chuey would do anything for me, she would prostitute 
herself for me; how could I not love her back?  How could I refuse her?

Her mouth will never taste another man's mouth again, I thought to myself.  
Our passion flooded back as though it had never been gone; the rest of the 
world seemed to fade into an unimportant dull gray.  There was only us, 
Chuey and I; an alien American and an alien mountain girl here on the coast 
of a strange island, preparing to make our life together against all odds.

My government would never let me bring my wife home; there was nothing to do 
but make a new home.  Our kiss held for an eternity.

How many men had felt at home in her body?  I resolved not to ask.  How many 
men had held her and kissed her while I looked after our child?  It no 
longer mattered.

"I love you Chuey."  I told her; "I still love you."

. "David."  She whispered, "David forgive me.  I love you also, David."

As the sweat evaporated from our bodies, we touched gently, both of us 
looking forward to the slow healing of our wounds.



We call it neocolonialism; despite the fact that I'm here, the job is here, 
and there were about a thousand qualified local professionals who would do 
the job for much cheaper, I got hired at American wages.  We're living very 
well now, and I'm manager of a large microchip manufacturing facility, a big 
shot in my own right.

For sixteen years she's been mine and mine alone; sixteen good and happy 
years. Of course there has been ups and downs, that's only normal. We have 
three children now; our 16 year old girl, another girl as pretty as her 
mother, 12, and a boy, 10.

If you ever find yourself in love with a jungle girl, don't make the 
mistakes I made; never leave her. Bend the rules, break them if necessary, 
but keep her.

Chuey is now 34 years old; her breasts are a bit larger, if not as firm. Her 
ass is a little more generous; but in my eyes, she's more beautiful than 
ever.

In the story of my life, there is one really incredible thing that's 
happened; that after sixteen years, an urban man and a jungle girl are still 
in love.

There is no limit to what I would do for her; I'd give my last iota of 
strength, my last drop of blood, to keep my wife and children safe.

She's still my flower, still my obsession. After all these years, when I lay 
her out naked below me, my cock is like stone; the sensation I get when I 
touch her still blows my mind. There's still electricity when our bodies 
meet. She still drives me crazy when she sucks me, her eyes glowing with 
passion. Her body still fits against mine perfectly; the world stops when 
Chuey and I make love. I should probably keep a fire extinguisher in the 
bedroom, the way our orgasms still explode.

Ace, 2002

storyace@hotmail.com

The rest of my stories are at; http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/aceinthe_hole/www//
and; http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/aceinthe_hole/   [in plain text]






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