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"You marry me. I have money."

The hot tight bodied female asking for my hand in matrimony was holding out a tight roll of American currency in her hand. Now having girls giving me money and asking for marriage is not something I have happen a lot.

This brings up the big question-Why?

Was her plea for us to be wed in married bliss due to my stunning good looks? Hardly-sure I was fit and trim at a little over 5 foot 6 inches, but at best my looks could be described as "ordinary or regular". I had a most forgettable face, one of the thousands of no name, everyday common people you would never ever notice in a crowd. Mr. "Average" -in height, weight, hair color, etc. I would have made a great spy-able to get in and slip away without everyone knowing I was there.

Then it must have been my fine sports car that captured her fancy. Nope- a 4 year old Volkswagen diesel Jetta is hardly a "babe magnet". Perhaps it was my living conditions, like a huge mansion on the beach with a yacht?-Guess again. I lived in the same stately old home my grandparents had brought me up in and left me after their death. The house was a nice place in a solid middle class neighborhood, but nothing to catch the eye of a lady this fine. No doubt then the draw was my jet setting life style combined with massive wealth-that must be it? Wrong-As a 27 year old organizer for a charity group I made about the same salary as a McDonalds manager. As the low man of seniority on the totem pole I did not do the glittery galas, but the 3K fun runs and cold call drives.

She must have been overcome with my smooth gift of gab? The talk that made girls panties fall off like snowflakes, a "Real player"? Yea I wish! A virgin until 18, it took a lot of booze and begging to get the school slut who was coyote ugly to give it up my first time.

For those of you with the mind in the gutter-I am not hung like John Holmes. Pretty average in that department also -not that this woman pleading ever saw my "gear".

Normally ladies of this caliber would never even notice me. They might speak to me to ask directions, or if they needed someone to carry their bags on a good day. So what could I have that would attract this Maxim quality poster babe?

Well I was in an organization that was exclusive to a few million people. My pertinent ancestors managed not to get squashed, devoured, drowned, starved, stranded, stuck fast, untimely wounded and were able to deliver a tiny charge of genetic material to the right partner at the right moment in the time and in the right place. I was a charter member of the lucky sperm club.

Yes I was a passport holding-true blue-born in the USA-American citizen. The big bonus was I was also a single straight unmarried male. Now I am not bragging –as I had nothing to do with this (except for the straight unmarried part). In most places of the globe American citizenship means nothing-like having brown hair. In other parts of the world being an American is a bad thing. But right now in this place, to some people, especially this female in front of me-being a single American male was currency and barter for trade.

The female in question was named Pia. She was an Asian beauty of the classic kind. A little over 5 foot 4 inches, Pia had the long straight hair, high cheekbones, with facial features that accompanied by a dazzling smile lit up a room. Combine that and a body to die for, Pia was slim, sexy and managed to be make coveralls look good. I was in lust every time I saw her.

"Ron you listen to me." Pia's voice floated through my thoughts as she held out the money.

"Pia."I tried not to laugh. "I can't marry you. We hardly know each other."

"You know me long time Ron." Pia said stubbornly. "You want more money? I get more. I ask Mr. Wilson's grown children more severance-go away money."

Pia had been a caretaker for Mr. Wilson my next door neighbor for the past few years until his death last month. Pia had been a home health worker/nurse/cook/maid/helper/companion. Mr. Wilson had been my CYO football coach when I was a kid. I knew Pia fairly well, she called on me whenever she had a chore or home repair she was unable to do. Your basic good neighbor deed. However marriage was a bit outside of being "neighborly".

"Pia" I shook my head at her "You are a treasure, I am truly flattered. What possible reason could you have for wanting to marry me."

"American INS."Pia than spat out something in her native tongue-I do not think it was a compliment to that government agency. "INS give me 90 days to go home. Say my visa no good no more. Mr. Wilsons children they no help, want to sell house. Mr. Wilson children give me money, I give you, you marry me Ron."

"Pia, It is not about money. You can't marry someone you do not love. Believe me there is someone out that that will love you. With your looks you can get any guy."

Pia waved her hand. "Ron I have no time for love. I need good man, you good man."

'Pia you want to spend the rest of your life with someone you do not love?" I asked.

Pia looked at me strangely. "Ron-Why you say rest of life married? I see lawyer about Immigration. He saw we only need marry two years. I go away then to marry better man then you waiting for me at home."

Now I had to laugh. "Pia you are one smooth talker. How can I turn down a proposal that lets me know I am not only in 2nd place, but a loser to some guy I never met. Why not just go home now to Mr. Wonderful and live happily ever after."

Pia stamped her foot. "Ron why you be so stubborn! I need to stay in America, make money for Mother and sister. I send all money home pay for sisters school, Mother need medicine, she now live. You want more money? I try to get more. Mother die I no send money home. Sister out on street."

"Great." I thought, now I am going to kill her mother and make her family homeless."

"Pia." I tried to bargain with her. "I told you it is not about the money. I marry you like you want it is called "fraud" we both go to jail. How will you do your Mom and sister any good if you are in an American prison then deported."

She was not to be deterred. "Ron if the INS send me home I no good to Mother and sister anyway. Who care we marry? It all OK. I see your house -you need good woman. I good women, I cook good, take care of you, you no be sorry."

"Pia." I started. "You are crazy." She was looking desperate, and in truth I wouldn't mind eating something besides microwaved meals, plus Pia was easy on the eyes. I tried to let her down easy, besides this conversation was going nowhere. "Let me think about it. We will talk about it later." I figured Pia would forget about this dumb idea, or I would just avoid her.

Pia surprised me by slapping the roll of bills in my hand. "Ron you need think fast, Mr. Wilson children want me out by weekend."

I shoved the roll of bills back at Pia. "Look Pia I am not taking your money." I turned and walked up to my home.

I did not need Pia's money. Not many people knew it-but I was a trust fund baby. No, not the multi-millionaire type trust fund. My grandfather had developed the key ingredient in a well-known regional soft drink years ago. The trust got a small percentage of sales via some complicated formula each year. Each March I got a check. Not enough to allow me to trot the globe and gamble in Monte Carlo, but more than enough to allow me to supplement the income of any job I wanted. The trust money gave me time, -time to do what I wanted. I had learned to fly, studied several martial arts, learned to paint, repair homes, first aid and tried my hand at music. I regularly donated to several charities and civic activities -all anonymous.

At age 17 my grandfather had taught me a valuable lesson. I had just gotten my first trust check. Naturally it was down payment on an expensive new car, party time with babes and booze. The third month into my drunken sailor spending spree, Grandfather froze my bank account and had my car repo'd. It was sobering experience to see my "friends" disappear like snowflakes on a warm sidewalk. I never again told anyone about my trust and lived well within my means. I was amazed at the human nature of the people-especially females. Girls would swoon over some guy who had a flashy (behind payment) car, and maxed out credit cards, yet I could not get service from a cute bank teller until she found my account held in excess of high 6 figures. I had yet to meet a young lady who did not value form over function.

I had more than a few girlfriends dump me because of my lifestyle. It was not uncommon to be told after a few dates "Ron you are a nice guy-but you have such a mundane loser job. You are not going anywhere, I deserve better."

I did ok with sex-never had to pay for it (yet), but while I was looking for Ms. Right-they were all looking for Mr. Right Now or a guy -who could as a popular movie once said "Show Me The Money!". One night stands are fun-but getting old. It seemed impossible to find any member of the opposite sex not superficial.

The next morning Pia was on my doorstep with several suitcases and boxes.

I looked on astonished as Pia piled her things into my living room.

"Ron" Pia said in-between trips from the porch to the living room. "I stay here while you think. You see life much good with me as wife."

"Damnit Pia" I started, I looked at my watch-I was late for a big meeting. "You can't stay here. Don't do squat until I get back tonight."

"Yes Ron Yes Yes."Pia replied ignoring me "You go to job, we talk you come back. Go, Go now." she pushed me out the door.

I come home that night with a planned out speech. I would be firm but gentle. Pia could stay a few days but no marriage. I would ask the lawyers that managed my trust fund if they could look into helping out on Pia's visa issue, but that would be it!

As I walked in the door something was different. It took me several seconds but I caught on. The house was immaculate. I mean I am not a slob-but this was the cleanest this house had ever been since my grandmother died. Also something smelled wonderful coming out of the kitchen. Magically Pia appeared with a wooden spoon in her hand.

"Ron Good you home" Pia came over giving my stunned face a kiss." I no find rice cooker in kitchen. I take Mr. Wilson rice cooker. He dead, no need rice cooker. Where your rice cooker?" Pia waved a spoon at me.

I managed to make my lips more. "Pia I don't have a rice cooker, There should be some Uncle Bens instant rice in the cupboard. Boil water then drop in a rice packet for two minutes. Bingo-you got rice."

Pia looked aghast. "Ron that no rice! You need rice cooker!" Pia pointed with the spoon. "You go clean up. Food be on table. You hurry food get cold."

Well it did smell good. No reason my speech could not wait until after dinner. In the bedroom I had another surprise. I opened my dresser drawer, the socks were neatly folded even lined up. But something was off -I picked up a pair of socks and underwear. Damn Pia had ironed my socks and underwear!

Dinner was great, some type of fish on a bed of cooked rice with a salad. The dessert was superb, a fruit cocktail I had never seen before. Pia kept asking me about my day, I found myself enjoying talking with her. Pia seemed to have an insight into people I worked with and offered suggestions I had never thought of on clients and problems I described. Pia even gave out a few funny stories of her own that set a good mood around the table.

Well now is a good a time as any. I might as get it over with and started my speech, but Pia cut me off.

"Ron plenty of time talk later, you go walk now outside. No get fat, good for health."

"True enough Pia." I said. "Let's go enjoy this marvelous evening."

"Ron you go." Pia countered. "I clean up kitchen first."

I enjoyed my stroll around the block. Pia joined me, we had a nice time chatting and walking, It was a pleasing feeling. I did not want to spoil the mood. I would set Pia straight in the morning I decided as we headed back toward my house.

Later that evening I crawled into bed, Pia was in the hall bath shower singing, she had a musical voice with almost perfect pitch. I figured Pia would sleep in one of the three spare bedrooms. I had slept in the nude for years and reminded myself to get wear a bathrobe when I was leaving the bedroom for the any reason. I was almost asleep when I felt a warm body lift the covers then creep into bed with me. Pia molded her small frame to my body.

Now I am a guy, you can guess my first reaction to having a tight female form wriggle onto my fast awaking nether regions.

"Uh ... Pia." I started trying to turn away hiding my rock like erection. "There are three other bedrooms. I can move if you want to sleep here."

"Silly Ron." Pia said licking my ear. "No other bed have what in this bed.' With that Pia dove under the covers fulfilling a fantasy I had had since the day I first saw her.

Only Pia in real life was far better than any fantasy I had. This was no quick thanks-for-dinner-date-blow job I was used to from previous ladies. Pia teased me with her lips, tongue and small hands. She kept taking me back and forth from the edge. Pia made love to my groin, my gonads, base, shaft, tip, -if they gave out medals Pia had the gold and silver locked. I came so hard I saw stars, Pia managed to get me off three times that night. She never let me give her any pleasure, but I fell soundly asleep with the biggest smile on my face.

The next morning I was able to cross an item off my bucket list. The line item was waking up with a blow job. There is nothing like the feeling on a cool morning to have a pair of warm female lips wrapped around your manhood. The morning kept getting better, no cold corn flakes for me. Pia had peeled fresh fruit while baking some type of pastry. I never did get a chance to give my speech to Pia-I was barely able to make it into work on time.

I held out for four days before Pia and I were married in a civil ceremony at the courthouse. Was it my little head telling my big head what to do?-Hell NO-it was my little head, my stomach and every other part of my body that had clean clothes with great food telling my head what to do. Now before you think I let all my blood run out of my brain-I did have the law firm recommended by the trust draw up a pre-nup agreement. The thing was over 100 pages and laid out in great detail who got what were when and with what in the event of any separation (we did not talk about the two year "agreement"). I had to force an attorney on Pia to look over the document for her.

"Ron, why we waste money on lawyer."Pia had questioned. "You good man, you no cheat me."

Besides I really enjoyed being with Pia. I found she had grown up in a fishing port on the outskirts of the city. Her father had disappeared at sea one day, leaving the Mother, Pia and her infant sister. Mom was determined to have her daughters succeed. School and grades were a religion. At age 11 Pia was taken by her mother to a moneylender. The moneylender agreed to an advance fund for school -at rates that would make a mafia loan shark blush. Pia was to pay off the loan after she finished school and started work. If Pia grades failed she would pay back the money working in a brothel-also owned by the moneylender. If Pia skipped out on payment, Pia's younger sister would be taken into the whorehouse as payment. Pia had earned a nursing degree in her country and made her way to America. Unfortunately Pia had been unable to qualify for the RN nursing board. The certification of an RN from another country and approval process was expensive -Pia was sending every dime back home to pay off her loan, send her sister thru school and pay for medicine her Mother needed for an illness.

Her boyfriend "Mr. Wonderful" was a young man she had known from childhood. Pia's eyes lit up every time she spoke of "Mr. Wonderful".

"He work on fishing boat."Pia bragged on the time I stupidly asked about him. "He going to own his own fishing boat, then many boats. We are going to have many children with lots of boys and big house near market."

"Sounds like a real gem." I said with sarcasm. I wondered how I could be jealous of a guy I never met.

"Oh he best man." Pia continued without missing a beat. "We wait for each other. Make promise to keep for each other."

That promise was about the only thing that I could really complain about. Pia had the most talented mouth, she never tired of going down on me. I rarely had to ask, it was as if Pia could read my mind and moods. We would make out like teenagers, Pia seemed to enjoy when I caressed and sucked her small but compact hard breasts. But like a boxer-there was no going below the belt on Pia. My countless attempts were rebuffed by Pia. She was never mean or angry about it -but very firm on that point.

"Ron my flower no belong to you." Pia would say after my attempts to get to her trimmed pubic region. "I make you happy other ways."

That was true, in all other respects I was living a beer commercial, and Pia was the dream wife-if only for a little while. But it is human nature to covet what we see but cannot have.

Pia was also a hard worker outside the house. No grass grew under her feet. When she was not acting as a fill in home health aide, Pia was doing something-anything to drum up currency, Pseudo Mary Kay cosmetics, Tupperware parties, jewelry, and swap meet sales. If you could make a profit off it -Pia did it. Pia also bargained better than any Turkish horse trader. The only money that Pia would take from me is the funds I gave her for food. Pia would drive her little car to the farmers or fish market (No high price grocery stores and day's old stuff for us!). Pia car would be packed with fresh foodstuffs on her return. Pia always brought back change from the food trips. I do not think that women slept more than four hours a night. I never saw her ever buy anything new for herself, but Pia prowled the bargain bins and consignment shops coming up with outfits that made her look even more beautiful (If that was possible). We had a running joke as I never saw Pia looking bad or not made up. Pia was always up every morning before me-makeup and hair done. A few times I even set my alarm at ungodly hours trying to catch Pia with "Bed Hair" or bleary eyed. Never did happen.

Still Pia was full of surprises. One time after another of her award winning blow jobs, and another failed attempt by me to return the oral pleasure –I just had to ask.

"Pia" I started laying back in bed with a big smile on my face. "How did you come to be so good at this." I put my finger on her lips. "You and ... a ... Mr Wonderful back home, or American boyfriends?"

Pia snuggled up next to me. "Ron, no never." Pia answered. "I good girl. I never kissed man until I come to America, or do this." Pia stroked my groin. "I not have boyfriends. Mr. Wilson show me how."

I sat upright in bed! "Mr. Wilson!" I stammered. "Our dead neighbor? Damn -You wait on that old prick hand and foot in his dying days and this is how he repays you!" I was pissed! How could my old CYO football coach take advantage of a young venerable girl like that? What an ass! Good thing he was dead or I would have killed him! "Pia that old bastard forced you to suck his cock!"

Pia looked at me confused. "Ron why you mad?" Pia stroked my belly. "Mr. Wilson not force me to do anything. I have pleasure giving him pleasure. I do it to save Mr. Wilson beatings."

"Pia what the hell are you talking about?" Now I was confused.

"Ron you listen." Pia continued to rub me. "Mr. Wilson ill sometimes, but he still a man. He lonely and have need after wife die. Mr. Wilson used to go out and find bad ladies on street and from paper. Not much but sometimes. Then two times Mr. Wilson get beat up by different bad lady's man and lose all money in wallet." Pia moved the covers around on the bed. "I no want Mr. Wilson to get hurt, but know Mr. Wilson still a man. I rent videos, I see how give pleasure. Mr. Wilson fight me first time -make me stop. Throw me out of room, say he fire me I ever try do that again. I know not true. I catch Mr. Wilson when he in bed asleep, he happy, I finish before he wake up. Mr. Wilson still mad, scold me but not fight me no more. I ask what he want and we argue much, he say no more. But in end Mr. Wilson still man and I get to pleasure him and keep him safe from all bad lady's and beatings."

"Jesus H Christ Pia." I said rubbing my chin. "I hope that was not in your original job description." Then a thought came to me. "Pia you are not ... a ... keeping other men safe on these Home Health aide tasks or other jobs are you?"

Pia wrinkled her brow in surprise. "Ron I am no prostitute. I am wife, I only pleasure you as long as I am wife. I do nothing for no man but my husband."

Pia was concentrating so hard her face looked just lovely, and I started to laugh in spite of myself. Maybe Wilson was a horny old goat. But I knew I had not been able to hold out very long against the determined Pia either.

It may have been a sham marriage, but I tried to keep up appearance for Pia's sake. Pia was well plugged into the various Asian communities. Every weekend it was a wedding, baptism, anniversary, birthday or other party of some sort. Pia had taken "networking" to a high art form, she seemed to know everyone and everything going on. But it was something else about these gatherings I enjoyed, it was the people and their attitudes. They did not live to work-they worked to live.

I mean they did work hard -no doubt, most all had more than one job. However family and friends came first, not the career climb or corporate rat race. I had more fun with Pia at a backyard cook out then any high end gala bash. No one cared about your jewelry or the car you arrived in, they were just glad you came. I was going to miss this when Pia and I went our separate ways.

Our two year agreement was coming close to its end. We were less than 2 months away, I had quietly asked my attorneys to prepare the divorce papers. Even though the pre-nup gave Pia nothing, I had included a nice chunk of change for her. She would not know about it until after we split. Pia was a proud lady footing half the household expenses. Pia would not allow me to return the money to her. At first I tried sneaking the cash back into Pia's purse. However Pia knew at all times to the dime how much money she had –so that did not work. I resorted to "fibbing" how little the house costs were, but Pia found the utility bills and insisted on paying her fair share. In the end I took the money Pia gave me and placed it in an account to be returned to her after our divorce. I also did things like filling up her car from a 5 gallon gas tank I kept in the garage. Pia never noticed her car got better mileage then any electric hybrid. I was also able to convince Pia I had a friend who owed me a favor, thus I was able to put new tires on her car and basicly had Pia's rattrap car rebuilt from the gas tank to transmission without objection. The only thing Pia would except was every couple of weeks I would come home with Gift cards that "happened" to be left over from a charity event. Yes it was a little white lie but I really was growing fond of Pia, and would do anything to see that smile of hers.

Pia had a temporary "green" card that gave her resident alien status. Then suddenly Pia was nervous and acting out of sorts, I attributed this to our upcoming separation. For the past few days Pia had been dressing better than usual, serving my favorite meals, even stepping up the frequency of our bedroom activities.

"Ron." Pia began across the table at dinner from me. "I need more favor from you."

"Well Pia." I responded. "Tell me what you need."

"I need to bring Mother and sister to America." Pia said in a rush. "Attorney tell me my money not enough to ... how you say sponsor Mother and sister."

We had been submitting income tax as married filing separately. Most of Pia jobs and income was cash. Pia would give any friend dollars in a heartbeat for a daughter's church dress or wedding shower, or any other request, but Pia hated giving money up to some government machine she did not know or trust.

"Pia." I laughed at her. "I told you unreported income would come back to bit you in your cute butt someday. What do you want me to do about it?"

"Ron why I should give money to thieving politicians." Pia held the opinion of government officials all people around the world did. "They say I need your job money to co-sponsor Mother and sister."

"Pia we are not going to be married in a few weeks, my reported job income will not do you any good then."

"Ron." Pia was looking down nervously picking at her food. "We need stay married until Mother and sister come to America."

"This is a turn of events Pia." I was a little taken back. "How long a time are we talking about?"

"Not long Ron." Pia brighten up seeing I had not dismissed her out of hand. "Lawyer say maybe one and half year, two years most." She smiled hopefully at me.

I pretended to mull over her request. "Pia this is a lot to think about. What did Mr. Wonderful the fisherman back home think of this delay?"

Pia waved her hand dismissively. "This is family, family come first. He understand, he wait for me."

On my part it was not much of a choice-Back to microwave dinners and doing my own laundry while chasing down indifferent ladies on one hand –Or my current fantasy life with Pia a little longer on the other hand.

I sighed dramatically. "OK Pia, I guess we can put up with each other a while longer."

Pia's face broke into her classic room lighting smile and she went back to eating her food. Barely under her breath I hear Pia say. "Thank you Ron."

It was about 6 months after that conversation that our relationship hit a major bump. I was at a local sports bar hosting a fund raiser. My old college team was playing and actually had a winning season. In the past my former school was not known for its sports program. It had been a rebuilding decade. The Sports bar manager and assistant manager were ladies who had gone to school for the opposing team. A drinking bet was raised in the bar with patrons taking sides. Drinks and money were wagered on every aspect of the contest to be donated to the charity. I am not a big drinker, a beer or glass of wine for dinner was my limit. After a few drinks I remember being in a lip lock with one of the girls after an exciting play on the TV in the bar-but that was about it -until I woke up in my bed with a major league hangover.

"Ron you wake up." Pia was shaking me. Her words seemed to ring off the inside of my head like small hammers.

"Damn it Pia." I tried to put the pillow over my head. "I am a walking dead man, can't you leave me be."

"We go now Ron. Get your car. I have much to do today." Pia pulled the pillow off my head. She held out a glass of water and some aspirin to me. Pia did not look happy.

After I had stumbled out of the shower, Pia pulled me into her car for the drive to retrieve my car at the Sports bar. Pia was unusually tight lipped. Finally about halfway to our destination Pia unloaded.

"Ron why you be bad with nasty girls!" Pia started. "I lose much face. I come get you, find you drunk with bad ladies tied up like two snakes during mating season!"

I was really in no mood for conversation. "Pia let it go, it's part of my job to be at these things. You know that."

"Ron it no part of job to make wife look bad -lose face!" Pia spat out.

"Pia you talk about losing face" I countered. "How about how you lighting up and then running around for days on air after you get a letter from Mr. Wonderful the fisherman. How do you think that makes me feel. I know you keep all his letters in the drawer and re-read them. Is that how a wife acts?"

"Ron that different" Pia answered but she lost some of her steam. "I make sure you never around when I read letter. I never let you lose face. I am your wife. What you did not same. I not happy!"

"Pia if you are not happy you may want to consider another job. Try selling oranges at the off ramp." My head still hurt. "Besides you are my wife in name only. The rest of you belongs to Mr. Wonderful the fisherman back home."

Pia stared straight ahead while driving. "Ron you say I no make you happy? You always seem happy with what we do."

We were at the sports bar, I fished in my pocket for the car keys. I was not in the best of moods. "Look Pia, you do make me happy that way most times, but this two years drought is the longest I have ever gone without real sex-and by real sex I mean intercourse not a bunch of BJ's-since I was 18 years old."

Pia did not answer me as I slid out of her car and slammed the door.

The next day a power outage shut down our office. We were all dismissed early and sent home. As I pulled into the driveway of the house I was surprised to see Pia's car. I thought she had a home health care gig today. Walking up the stairs to the bedroom I heard sounds that made my heart drop.

It was muffled, but it was the unmistakable sounds of sex. The female sounds were nothing Pia had ever made for me. The slapping of flesh on flesh made it clear this was not a little oral play. A deep male voice was urging her on to take it deeper and deeper. Well so much for saving her "flower" for Mr. Wonderful the fisherman or anyone else. "Well I guess both of us got screwed while neither one got to screw." I thought to myself.