I Married A Nun

I met this woman through the woman next door. Her younger sister. A natural beauty, half Cuban American half Anglo.19 she had decided to enter the order, become a Nun. She was on leave so to speak. You've met girls like this, they are at peace it seems, pretty with out an ounce of makeup. But I wasn't at peace, what a waste of ass.

The short and sweet of it is I cornered her and laid her out and took her the way nature intended. I never thought that a wannabe Nun would not use birth control. I won't try to make excuses, but the pressure to marry her was backed up by a couple of Cubans from Miami. She's like the proverbial sticker in the grass, she won't let go. She made a 180 and set out to break every average putting out kids one a year for the first five years. I said enough.

I've got the nicest, most beautiful wife on the block. It's just that I've heard enough about Jesus, how God works his wonders, how every baby is His miracle. Enough is enough. Five kids is enough. She isn't happy I've put her to one side, but she won't use birth control. Other than the rhythm method, which she obviously can't do. So here I am, biting my tongue not to grab her and make use of my wife. I'm just not ready for number six. Not yet. I need a break.