When she woke the next morning, he was already getting dressed, and alarm seared through her. Was he leaving? Where was he going?

Jason turned, hearing her push the sheets aside, and hurried to reassure her. "I need to get to class," he said, miming opening a book. "Class. Okay? I will be back soon." He pointed at his watch. "At five o'clock tonight. I promise. Understand?"

Ayana nodded. She could do nothing other than trust him. If there was no trust between them, their marriage was doomed. She had to have faith in Jason. "Class," she murmured, nodding. "Five. Yes."

But what should she do in the meantime? She wanted to ask but did not have the words to do so. She watched him as he left, her eyes following him until the door clicked shut behind him. Then she was alone, in a strange country with a strange language, with nothing but the clothes on her back. Everything in the apartment belonged to her husband.

She tried to stretch and winced. Ayana had a sore pussy, sore breasts, sore tits, sore everything. Her body ached all over, and she even had a few small bruises from where Jason had gripped her tightly. She wasn't upset about that, though. In fact she bore them with pride. They were a sign of how passionate her husband was.

She wanted to go back to sleep but knew she shouldn't. The nuns had raised Ayana and all the other girls in the orphanage to despise laziness. She was a wife now, and there were tasks that needed doing. It was her duty to Jason to ensure his apartment was clean and tidy. So she forced herself to get up and start the day, but not before treating herself to a hot shower. It felt so good on her bare skin it was almost sinful, and she allowed herself to linger there a little longer than necessary as she lathered and rinsed her hair and skin, washing off the stickiness of the night before. Then it was right to work. Ayana dressed in her white sundress--she had nothing else to wear, until Jason got her some new clothes--and threw herself into her duties.

The bathroom was first to receive her attentions. Ayana started by scrubbing the toilet and sink until they gleamed, and then moved on to the floor and shower, which she cleaned meticulously until they looked pristine. She swept the bathroom floor of hair and other detritus, then cleaned the mirror over the sink of spots and water stains.

Next, the kitchen. This was more challenging. Ayana peeked into the cabinets and winced at the disorganization she saw. She first sorted out everything, organizing the kitchen's contents by type and necessity. Dishes in one place, pans and pots in another, spices and other such things in different cabinets. The pantry too was reorganized with snacks on top, cooking supplies in the middle, and cleaning supplies--those that didn't go underneath the sink--on the bottom shelf. The refrigerator posed the largest challenge. Ayana could not read more than one English word in ten, but her nose worked just fine and she had to throw out a number of things that were well past their expiration date. She also stocked it with cans of soda from a large package that she found on a shelf above the washer unit, but not before taking out each of the shelves and meticulously cleaning them of stains and crumbs.

When all that was done, it was on to the living room and the dining area, as well as the kitchen floor. A thorough sweep-and-scrubbing was in order, and Ayana went about it with the same enthusiasm and diligence she’d applied to her other chores. She found a dusty corner behind the couch that hadn’t seen the light of day in ages and took pleasure in freeing it of its dust bunnies. There was indeed a vacuum in the hall closet to use on the carpet, and although the noise made her wince, Ayana knew it was necessary. She moved it over the floor in meticulous rows, making sure she didn’t miss a spot.

Then, finally, the bedroom. Ayana started a massive load of laundry before she did anything else, using a liberal amount of detergent and making sure to separate the colors from the whites. She washed the sheets, the towels, and even the pillowcases, then swept and vacuumed.

All of this took time. Hours, really. Ayana was puffing for breath when she finally finished but she looked on her handiwork with pride. When Jason came back tonight, he would see how good she was at taking care of their home and that she was a dutiful and devoted wife.

But getting the apartment clean wasn't enough. Ayana wanted to make it feel like a home, not just a place to live. But she had no money to buy things to make the apartment look nice and no transportation. Jason's car keys were on the counter but she didn't dare try to drive his Buick.

She tapped her chin and chewed on that, but then, almost like an act of God, a solution presented itself. There was a knock on the door and she jumped, startled, but after a moment she cautiously answered it. There was no one there, but a flyer had been taped to the door.

It was a flyer for something called a "Garage Sale." Ayana could read very little of her husband’s language—something she reminded herself, yet again, to remedy as soon as possible—but she could read just barely enough to get the general gist of what the flyer was saying. Some people were moving and they wanted to get rid of the things they couldn't or wouldn't take with them. They were giving their things away for free.

Ayana squinted at the address and bit her lip. Dare she attempt such a thing? What if she got lost? What if Jason came back and she wasn't there? What if he got angry with her for going out by herself?

No, she thought after a moment. She was his wife, and it was her duty to make their place look nice. The garage sale couldn't be far from here, and she would take care to be back in time. She just had to make sure not to get lost.

Ayana put her shoes on and found a key under the welcome mat outside the door, which she used to lock it up behind her. Thankfully, all she had to do was follow the flyers posted on nearby telephone poles. They led her to the garage sale as well as any map could have, and Ayana was stunned at just how much these people were giving away. They were parting with perfectly good things like furniture and kitchenware, carpets and cleaning supplies and all manner of other things. Hundreds of dollars worth of stuff, and it was all just sitting right there on the lawn in boxes and plastic bins, waiting for someone to take it!

Ayana stared, stupefied. For a moment, she felt something approaching anger, which was unusual for her. Ayana, gentle by nature, wasn't someone who angered easily, but seeing all these things being so casually discarded rocked her. Didn’t these people appreciate what they had? Back home in her village, anyone would have given their right arm for half of what was here!

She shook her head and silently chided herself. "Judge not, lest I be judged," she whispered to herself in Kazakh. She wished there was an Eastern Orthodox Church nearby she could go to, for surely she would have to confess her resentful thoughts. But for now, she focused on the task at hand.

Ayana didn't skimp. If these things were free, she would take full advantage of everything on offer. She took a huge box from a nearby pile of them and began filling it with things that would make the apartment nice: some plush throw pillows for the couch in the living room, seat covers for the chairs at the kitchen table, a tablecloth and some nice cloth napkins, a set of high-quality cooking pans that had barely been used, some sweetly scented candles, a few potted plants, and even a mini-fridge they could put in their bedroom.

But her greatest find by far was the curtains. A set of rich, red, expensive-looking curtains made of soft material that felt smoother than velvet beneath her fingers. They were thick and luxurious, and they smelled faintly of something nice, like vanilla. Ayana knew at once that they would grace the living room windows perfectly. With trembling excitement, she took them from the cardboard box they were in and held them up to the light, watching the way the fabric rippled. Surely Jason would love them!

There was more. Ayana got a spice rack filled with containers of exotic seasonings, barely beating an older woman in her mid-fifties in the race to claim them. The woman glared at her and Ayana wanted to apologize, to explain that this was necessary for her to make Jason happy, but she didn’t know the English words. Instead, she gave a shy smile and hoped it conveyed the right sentiment. She hoped it showed that she wasn’t greedy, just eager. There were even a few dresses that looked like they'd be a perfect fit as well as some feminine products which Ayana needed but didn't know how to ask Jason for.

When she left the garage sale, she tottered under the weight of all her finds and had to crane her head around the box because she couldn’t see over it. By some miracle Ayana managed to make it back to the apartment. She was red-faced and panting hard for breath, but she didn’t drop anything, and she didn’t wait to start putting it all away. She lit a few of the candles first, to make the place smell fragrant. The spices went into the kitchen cabinets, and the dresses into the bedroom. The mini-fridge she managed to lug to the bedroom too, and it took some serious effort to get it into place, but once it was there, she knew it was worth it. What a surprise it would be for Jason!

But the curtains...she saved those for last. There was already a curtain rod in place above the living room windows, which doubled as sliding glass doors that led onto the small balcony, but it was a struggle to put them on. The curtains were very heavy and Ayana had to stand on two chairs before she was able to start slowly slipping the curtain rings over the rod.

As she worked, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. This place was now theirs, and she had made it look like a home. When she was finally finished, she stepped back to admire her work and felt a sense of pride swell in her chest. The candles cast a warm, flickering glow across the living room, making the space feel cozy and inviting. The curtains had been the most challenging part, but once they were up, they transformed the room.

She checked the clock and blanched. It was almost four and she hadn’t cooked anytime yet! Jason would be home soon. What kind of wife would she be if she couldn’t have a hot meal waiting for her husband when he came home? Panic set in as she realized she had no idea what to make him for dinner. Ayana hurriedly searched the pantry and found some canned vegetables, a box of rice and some frozen chicken breasts in the fridge. She found work with that.

The nuns at the orphanage had made all the girls learn to cook, at least on a basic level. They’d drilled into them that it was a wife’s duty to feed her husband. So Ayana set to work with the chicken, peeling back the plastic and setting it in a pot of warm water to defrost. It didn’t take long, thankfully, and she was able to get it sizzling in the pan with some butter and seasoning. The vegetables, too, were simple enough to cook, and the rice? She could do that in her sleep.

She was just scraping a generous helping of chicken and rice onto a plate when the door swung open and Jason stepped inside. He looked at her, at the clean apartment, at the curtains, and then at the plate, and his mouth fell open. "Wow, Ayana," he said, his voice filled with a mix of amazement and affection. "You've been busy. This place looks great! But…where’d you get all this stuff?”

Ayana looked up from her work, her cheeks flushing with pleasure at his praise. She pointed to the mini-fridge. "Surprise," she whispered shyly. Then, in a burst of excitement, she rushed over to him and threw her arms around his neck, nearly knocking him over.

Jason stumbled back, laughing. He returned the embrace, lifting her off the floor and spinning her around. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?" he said, setting her back down.

Her eyes searched his, looking for signs of anger or displeasure, but all she saw was happiness. "Good surprise?" she asked tentatively.

Jason kissed her forehead, his hands lingering on her waist. "The best kind of surprise. You've turned this place into a home." He looked around the clean, organized apartment with the candles flickering and the curtains framing the windows. "But how did you manage all this?"

"Garage sale," she said, averting her gaze demurely as she used her limited English. "I saw paper. Free things. For make home nice. I hope okay."

Jason couldn't help but chuckle at her earnestness. "It's more than okay, baby," he assured her. "You've done an amazing job."

His praise was all Ayana needed. All she wanted. She'd done all this to show him she was a good, dutiful wife. It was such a wonderful validation to know he was pleased with her efforts. It wasn't just that making him happy was in her own interests--Ayana liked Jason very much and wanted to make him smile every day. She smiled. "You, um, have good day? Good class?"

Jason nodded, his eyes still wandering over their newly decorated apartment. "Yeah, class was fine. I really missed you, though."

"I miss you too," she murmured. "Jason...you good to me. Kind. Gentle. You good man. Good heart."

Her words touched Jason deeply. He hadn't expected to feel this level of affection towards his 'purchase', but here he was, genuinely caring about this girl's feelings. "Would you like to show me how much you missed me?" he asked huskily.

Ayana felt her pulse quicken, but nodded.

"Then why don't you suck my cock, baby?" he crooned. "Show me how much my wife missed me today."

She didn't need to be told twice. With a shy smile, Ayana dropped to her knees and began to unbuckle his belt. He stepped closer to her, allowing her to pull his trousers down. His cock sprang free, already half-hard and eager for her attention. She took him into her mouth tentatively at first, her eyes looking up at him for approval.

Jason knew what she wanted and gave it to her. "Good girl. That's it," he encouraged, his voice thick with desire. He watched as she took more of him in, her eyes watering slightly, and felt his cock swell even further. "Take it all, baby. Every inch. Can you do that for me?"

Ayana nodded eagerly and did her best to take him as deep as she could, her throat constricting around his length. It was a strange feeling, one she was still getting used to, but it was also empowering. She could make this strong man weak with pleasure, make him moan and tremble, and it was a power she liked wielding. As she sucked, she tugged the straps of her sundress down her shoulders and let it slide down until it puddled around her waist, revealing her bare breasts.

"Do you want me to touch you?" Jason asked softly.

Ayana nodded, tears in her eyes, never faltering in her ministrations.

"Beg me to," he whispered, cupping her face.

Ayana's eyes grew wide and she paused, unsure. "Please," she managed to say around his thickening erection, "touch me."

He pulled out from between her lips. "You'll have to do better than that, sweetheart," he said gently. "I want to hear how badly you want me to touch you. How much you crave it."

Ayana nodded, her cheeks burning. She took a deep breath and tried again, her voice trembling. "Please, Jason. Touch me. Make me feel good. I want you. Need you. Please..."

Jason's eyes darkened and he stepped closer, his hand sliding around her waist to cup her right breast. He watched as she took him back into her mouth, her movements growing bolder and more confident as his thumb flicked over her erect nipple. Her eyes fluttered shut as the haze of pleasure grew.

Then, suddenly, he stopped. "Get up and turn around. Brace yourself against the couch and spread your legs," he said. Ayana felt her loins quiver at the way he gave the command. Jason was a good man, a kind man who treated her well, but in matters of the bedroom he was firmly the one in charge. She hurried to comply, feeling a thrill of excitement as she anticipated what was to come.

As she turned, Jason took a moment to appreciate the view. Her round, firm ass was barely covered by her white panties, and he could see the dark outline of her pussy beneath the fabric. He stepped closer, his hand still stroking his cock as he took in the sight of her. "These have got to go," he murmured, hooking his fingers in the waistband and pulling them down.

Ayana gasped as the cool air hit her skin, but she didn’t protest. She knew her duty and was eager to please him. She watched in the reflection of the window as Jason knelt behind her, his cock standing tall and proud. He gripped it firmly and rubbed it against her wet folds before pushing inside.

The feel of him inside her body never got old. There was no foreplay, no gentle easing in like there had been the night before. This was raw and primal, and Ayana's body responded with a jolt of pleasure that had her gasping aloud. She braced herself against the couch, her knuckles turning white as Jason began to fuck her from behind with deep, hard strokes that made her breasts bounce and her hips jerk back to meet him. This wasn't lovemaking--it was more akin to claiming his territory. He pulled her hair hard enough to make her wince, slapped her ass until it was red and stinging, and choked her with careful, restrained strength.

Ayana didn't protest at the rough treatment. She had been taught that a wife must endure all her husband's desires, and she took pride in satisfying him. Besides, she knew Jason would never truly hurt her; it was all part of their growing intimacy.

The nuns who'd raised her would've been appalled at the way she was behaving, but Ayana didn't care. Why should she feel ashamed or guilty? She was a married woman now. There was no sin in what she was doing. It was her duty to make her husband happy. And as Jason's rough, possessive thrusts grew faster, she knew she was fulfilling that duty to the best of her ability.

She was lost in the moment, in the feel of her husband's strong hands on her body, in the sound of his harsh, needful breaths. The slap of skin on skin filled the room, punctuated by her gasps and whimpers. She felt the pressure building, the delicious tension coiling in her stomach, tightening her muscles around him. Ayana heard his panting breaths, the way he pounded into her with frenzied desperation as he neared his own release, the way he grasped her breasts and pulled her close.

And then, with a roar, it was over. Jason came inside her, his cock pulsing with the force of his orgasm. Ayana saw his reflection in the living room window; his body went taut and he arched his back as if seized in a sudden spasm. Sweat dripped from his body from the force of his exertions and she saw the veins in his neck pulsating with each beat of his pounding heart. His eyes were closed tight and his teeth were bared. It was the most primal, beautiful sight she'd ever seen: her husband, the man she was rapidly growing to love, lost in the throes of passion, utterly exposed and vulnerable to her.

Ayana felt her own climax coming and closed her eyes with anticipatory relish. Even as the hot warmth of his cum gushed into her womb, her pussy quivered, then spasmed and clenched like a fist around his cock, milking him dry. She let out a moan that was equal parts pleasure and relief, her body shuddering from head to foot as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her.

Jason held her fast until the last tremor passed through her body, then pulled out slowly, his cock still half-hard and slick with their combined juices. He stepped back and took her in, his breath ragged and his eyes glazed with satisfaction. "You're perfect, Ayana," he murmured. "Just perfect."

Bereft of the support of his strong hands, Ayana collapsed onto the couch. His cum gushed out of her pussy and onto the leather cushions with audible wet sounds, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She was too busy basking in the aftermath of her climax. Tears of transcendent joy ran down her cheeks. "I good wife?" she rasped. "Really?"

Jason nodded, his own chest heaving from his exertions. He leaned down and kissed her neck, his hands gentle as he cradled her in his arms. "You're more than good," he said, his voice ragged and forced between heaving breaths. "You're perfect for me. You're the best wife any guy could ask for."

Ayana buried her face in his shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice muffled. The warmth of his body was a comfort to her, the scent of his sweat and their shared release a potent reminder of their connection. "When I become bride for Big-E-Mart, never thought I find happiness like this."

Jason tightened his arms around her. "Ayana..."

"Want be mother," she said, blinking back more tears. "Want give you children. Want have you babies. Want happy family with you."

Jason's heart swelled at her words. "You will," he said firmly. "We'll have a beautiful family together, I promise." Then a thought occurred to him, one he kicked himself for not considering earlier. "Uh...are you on, um, birth control?"

Ayana shook her head. For a devout Eastern Orthodox girl like her, birth control was a sin. It was God's will if she became pregnant. She looked up at Jason with wide, hopeful eyes. "No. God decide if baby come."

Jason tried not to let his shock show on his face. For all he knew, Ayana might be pregnant already. They'd gone at it like rabbits ever since he brought her home from Big-E-Mart. The thought of a baby, a family, it was a lot to take in. But as he held her in his arms, feeling her warmth and the way she clung to him, he realized he wasn't opposed to the idea at all. Scared to death, of course, as many young men were when confronted with the possibility of impending fatherhood. But opposed? No. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he actually felt excited about it.

"Then...if you are, I'll be the best father I can be," he said after a long moment. "We'll figure it out together."

Ayana looked up at him with a smile so radiant it could've outshone the sun. "Good," she murmured. "Want you be happy."

The rest of the evening was spent in a gentle blur of happiness. They ate the simple dinner she'd prepared together, talking about their days and their hopes for their future. For the first time, Jason found himself picturing Ayana with a round belly, her skin glowing with the health of their unborn child. It was a surprisingly appealing image, and one that made him feel more like a man than he had in his entire life. But he also knew that with a baby came even more responsibility. As a husband, he had to provide for Ayana. But as a father, the stakes were so much higher.

When Ayana fell asleep that night, safe and warm in her husband's arms, she felt more happy than she ever imagined possible. Every day with Jason was better than the one before. Truly, God had blessed her beyond measure by bringing her to him. She was happy and sated and utterly content.

And the best part was that this was only the beginning! Her whole life, Ayana struggled with the harsh realities of the orphanage and the bleakness of her future prospects. Now, she had a man who cared for her, a place to call home, and the possibility of a family. This was more than she ever dared dream of. She snuggled closer to Jason, feeling his warmth and strength, and whispered a quiet prayer of gratitude in her native tongue.

"Father," she whispered. "Thank you for bringing Jason into my life. I am not worthy of such a gift, but I will cherish him and our family. Please, bless our union and grant us many children to love and raise together. Amen."

Jason stirred in his sleep but didn't wake. Ayana felt strange, newfound sense of purpose that filled her with a peace she hadn't felt for as long as she could remember. She let herself drift off, and dreamt with a happy heart of what the days to come would bring.