From Jenny to Mei Ch. 16

Karla remained silent.

"I'll be your servant too and I won't make you do anything you'll regret later. It's really about you, Karla. I love you, after all and I want you to know what joy you can find in submitting to someone like I have."

It sounded strange still, but Karla wanted a change in her life. "Are you planning to transform me like Philip did you?"

"He's an expert; I don't know how. Do you want to change?"

"Yes," she decided she did, "but be patient with me. I don't really know what I'm getting into."

"It's going to be great. All of us focused on Philip like planets circling the sun with little orbits of our own. We're all going to be in love with each other and have so much fun together."

"Like the Playboy mansion or something?"

The comparison didn't please Mei. The idea of that old man with those silicon strumpets shacking up in that gaudy house was horrible. "Not like that. That's not what we're going to do. No parties, or, well maybe some but not with people like that." If she were pressed she'd have to admit there were similarities.

"So what shall we do for the rest of the night?" Mei asked.

"Let's snuggle."

"Philip has some food in the oven, let's eat first."

Karla slipped on the robe and Mei walked out naked. They ate the lasagna and garlic bread at the table, had some wine and talked about Philip. She told her about Sarah and the center and Jerome. Then Mei laid out her plans for the immediate future.

##########

Markéta was enjoying her time in Paris. She had always loved the city, had her favorite hotels, cafés and restaurants. She'd become something of a celebrity in the fashion world with her success at last year's Oscars. It was the designer that got all the credit but those who mattered knew that the person who chose the clothes that strutted down the red carpet had the real power. They did all they could to garner her friendship.

The political sphere was a new arena for her, and as much as she tried to play it cool, it was exciting to be in such close contact with powerful men and women. The parties and receptions were sometimes taxing and rarely as glamorous as one might think. However, at times, especially in intimate gatherings it was quite intoxicating.

The President's new mistress' fortunes were on the rise while the old one's were fading. Sophie looked to Markéta for all things fashion, from hair and makeup to shoes. She was her Svengali and she brought her to parties because she looked so fabulous herself and she didn't have many friends in her corner as of yet. The tall, well built blond gave important men a delightful reason to approach and speak to Sophie. She needed these acquaintances to solidify her position as the new mistress and help Le Président cast off the old bitch.

At Sophie's hotel she reentered her client's suite with some shoes she'd left in the car and heard the phone ringing and the shower running. "Shall I answer that?" she called toward the bathroom but was apparently unheard.

"Allô" she said into the handset.

"Allô. This is not Sophie, is this the lovely Markéta?"

It was the President.

"Ah, yes sir. Sophie is showering at the moment. Shall I have her ring you back?"

"Well now don't be in such a great hurry to get rid of me. And call me Pierre for heaven's sake. We've seen too much of each other recently for such unwelcome formality."

"Yes, Pierre. I certainly appreciate the kindness and attention you've shown me on this visit."

"You know, Markèta, I'm going to be buying Sophie a new wardrobe each month just to have you close by. You are something wonderful to gaze upon."

'Hmm,' she thought, 'it's nice being flirted with by the President of the Republic.'

"You're too kind."

"You are too beautiful, Markèta. I must be seeing more of you. Perhaps you might make time for me soon? A look at my wife's wardrobe? A consultation on a gift? I'll have Sébastien call you. Don't bother Sophie for his number; I'll have him approach you."

"Yes, Pierre. It would be a delight."

"Tell her I called and waxed poetic about her beauty for me won't you?"

"Of course."

"Well..." he paused, wondering if he had been clear enough for the Czech woman, decided he had and signed off with, "until then."

She slowly replaced the receiver, walked over to the mirror, hearing the shower stop and the dripping taper off. She had just been invited to had an affair with the President of France. It could not have been clearer. This was how it was done.

She thought about what this might do for her career and the not unpleasant prospect of sex with the handsome Pierre.

##########

Tim wasn't a prick in the conventional sense but he wasn't the man he thought he could be. For one thing he missed opportunities for kindness that he knew better men would pick up on and he rarely caught the hints that more attuned and sensitive men would recognize in their mates. Hints that told them the state of their emotions and their unspoken needs.

He also knew that Karla saw this flaw and that part of why she nagged him was in the hope that he would recognize and act on these signals.

It wasn't his fault he didn't have the antenna that some men and most women had. He wasn't born with it. But try to explain to a woman that men were men and she just had to live with their failings.

'Those guys are pussies anyway,' he thought defensively. 'Probably gay too.'

He congratulated himself for recognizing that he could be a better person. It was one thing, he figured, to occasionally falter and recognize the fact than to be totally ignorant of one's shortcomings. However, he missed the corollary; that with the knowledge of his faults he had a responsibility to correct them.

Karla was far and away the most attractive girl he had ever dated. That was important to him. It gave him a feeling of self-worth. He knew it shouldn't, but it did.

They had met through friends and hooked up the night of his brother's Halloween party. She was dressed as an Indian princess and he, thank God, a cowboy. There was no sex but plenty of kissing and fondling. It was clear to him that a retreat to a period of romantic phone calls and dating would produce dividends. It had - spectacular dividends.

As he slid a well earned single between a tall blond's immaculate thigh and garter band he thought about Karla, and again congratulated himself for doing so in the present situation.

'What's up with tonight?' he wondered. 'She sure was nervous waiting for the taxi.'

He didn't know that much about her, even nearly a year into dating and four months in the same apartment. She wasn't the type to dramatically reveal all of herself and seemed content to let him in bit by bit. That was fine with him, having no need to expose his innermost feelings either. Things were going along well and they liked each other very much.

As thirty approached he figured it was time for marriage and a family and thought Karla the best he was likely to find to fulfill the role of wife and mother. He loved her, after all, lusted for her continually and that was what was most important. It was a plus that the sex was great and that she gave him the freedom to come to places like this with his friends.

He wondered if the blond up there could give him a massage the way Karla could. Wondered at the skill with which she could suck a cock and if she moaned like his girlfriend did when he came in her mouth.

He, like most men, overrated his libido, thinking that other men didn't fixate on sex to the degree he did. He was of two minds about it. On the one hand he worried if he were a pervert thinking about nearly every woman he saw in sexual terms. And on the other, he thought his sex drive made him a real catch, not knowing that most women couldn't care less.

In truth Tim was a better than average lover. He was well endowed, not spectacularly so, but sufficiently so, well within the range of normal but at the right hand side of the curve. And he was a careful and considerate lover, mostly because he figured he'd get more women that way.

All in all, Tim was a good guy but the shame of it was he could have been, with very little effort, a really great guy.

Watching what had to be a pair of natural Ds shake and jiggle before him he left thoughts of Karla for later and settled down to let his imagination take control and have another beer with his friends.

##########

Philip got a call from Ai at eleven thirty telling him that the police were at her apartment. Hector, her now former manager, had paid her a visit, angry she skipped her appointments and at the text telling him she was quitting. He smashed a lamp and threatened her. What should she do? she wanted to know. Should she press charges like the police were advising?

"Is he there?"

"No. He left when my neighbor said she was calling the police."

"Have them write a report and get a copy. I'll be there as soon as I can. Pack a suitcase or two," he said.

"Thanks, Philip."

"Text me your address."

"Right."

He noted she didn't sound scared, a bit astonished at her calm.

Weaving methodically through late night traffic on the Bayshore Freeway, he thought of Ai. She seemed to be composed of strange contradictions; young but mature, wholesome but fucking men for money, sweet and a bit needy but calm in the face of a thug smashing up her place.

'I mean... a wholesome whore has got to be an oxymoron, right?' Yet it never occurred to him to question his judgement. He never considered that she might contain hidden depths in which manipulation, cruelty or greed might be lurking. She had a purity of heart he'd never encountered before.

'She needs me.' It made him feel good, useful and masculine.

He picked her up, kissed her on the cheek after tossing her stuff through the hatch back. On the way back up to the Mandarin Oriental she related what happened. He showed up and she foolishly let him in, figuring she'd pay him the back commissions he was due and send him off but he became violent right away and wouldn't stop screaming at her.

"Did he hit you?"

"Yeah, he slapped me once but I think my scream and that bitch look I gave him scared him and he just started throwing things."

"You ok?" he asked for the third time.

"Yeah. He hits like a girl. Should I press charges?"

"Let me think for a bit. He in a gang?"

"Yeah, some Mexican thing."

"Did he ever force you to have sex?"

"No, but he tried all the time. He's such a pig."

The rage was difficult for Philip to master. "I should have insisted you stay with me."

"But I had to see my folks. They were expecting me."

"You don't go back there unless I'm with you."

"Ok," she said, knowing his command reflected his feelings for her. It made her insides wiggle.

They parked in the underground garage and made their way to his room. She had worked here before but for some reason it seemed much different.

"Wow, fantastic room," she said, then, "I'm going to take a shower. Her eyes connected with his and she liked what she saw.

In the bathroom she expressed a silent prayer to the goddess of love as she undressed. 'Oh thank you, thank you, thank you. He's definitely the one.'

Philip placed her suitcase and overnight bag in the closet, got a beer from the mini-fridge and looked out the window to give her some time. As the shower started he thought about Mei and Karla and what they might be up to. He pictured Mei dangling a breast over Karla's open mouth and smiling down at her. Then he took the beer with him into the bathroom and leant against the sink.

He watched Ai.

Looking down and with a shy smile she slid a glass panel aside to let him see her slender body and returned to bathing.

'Drink me in, Philip. I love your green eyes on me.' She hazarded a look at him while rolling the soap between her palms. The crazy cold warmth of her feelings for him shivered her skin.

Obviously, Ai knew men really well. She knew, and adored, how their eyes felt against her skin. She understood men's needs and loved them for it. Other girls thought it a weakness but she knew otherwise. 'We are all creatures born of love and love keeps things going.' She honored the lust part of love. It wasn't an annoyance for Ai, lust was the fuel that kept the species alive. She liked a horny man and seeing Philip become horny for her made her desire to fuck his brains out just that much more intense.

He brought her the bottle which she took in her delicate hand. She drank a long sip, handed it to him and stepped back, never breaking her lock on his eyes.

She returned to wash herself simply, not turning unnecessarily or squeezing a breast and making erotic pretenses. His enjoyment at watching her hands gliding over her body could not be augmented with theatrics.

She washed her hair, leant back into the stream to jut her pert breasts and let the water course over her face.

With conviction he knew she was the most beautiful creature alive.

Yet, strangely, at that moment he thought of Mei and missed her. He knew she was probably sharing a dildo with Karla, riding another orgasm and kissing the redhead with love and urgency. But also he knew she would be thinking of how to convince her to feel for him as she did.

These feelings for Ai didn't compete for space within him, probably because of Mei's enthusiastic prompting. They joined alongside and mixed with his love for Mei causing his feelings for her to swell. He could swear his heart was physically expanding.

"Can I wash you, Philip?" She said it demurely but with maturity, with confidence, like Sophia Lauren in an old movie, with a hint of excitement and desire.

He undressed and stepped in. Her hands rose to his hairy chest and strong shoulders. She tiptoe reached for his mouth, her hand sliding around his neck.

This was who she wanted. The man who would protect and treasure her. Age wasn't an issue for her. Most of her recent lovers, the paying kind, were much older and she liked the maturity. Guys her age were still boys.

His eyes beckoned. His lips moved toward hers. He had generous lips that were firm yet wonderfully pliable with a bit of stubble under his nose. 'And his nose!' She considered it. It was big enough to get in the way, a reminder that he was of a different sex.

The kiss was one of life's perfect moments. The anticipation of it built momentum like riding a rocket up a hill. The closer he got the more she wanted it and when they meshed together, his lips deforming into her own, she felt his soul upon her mouth.

'God! Such a man! Big, sure of himself and gentle.' This was a man she could give herself to with enthusiasm and confidence. A man who wouldn't hesitate to give her what she needed and empathetic enough to know exactly what that was.

She surrendered to his mouth; let her want and desire flow through her and take over her body, let his tongue follow hers and caress her. It took the gift she was giving and his hands replied with an acknowledgment she felt along her back and in her hair. 'This is more than lust.' His body was speaking love to her, the love she longed for.

The intimacy of their kiss escalated. Their breath quickened; the lock between their eyes grew stronger, their hands sped along the other's bodies, frantically searching for the exact, perfect point.

"God, Ai. I..."

"Yes, Philip."

Both of her hands went to his wet hair, thumbs pressed to the tabs of his ears, fingers at his scalp. She pulled his mouth tighter against hers. She didn't want him to fumble out an, 'I love you,' not yet. Now wasn't the time. It was his body's turn to do the talking.

Her nipples throbbed as they rasped along his chest hair. 'He's the one,' she spoke to heaven in confident thanksgiving. The truth of it appeared in her head, not as a flash or with trumpets but a silent confirmation that Philip was to be her man.

She translated that knowledge as best she could into moans and soft strokes of his flesh, 'God I am so going to love this man. He will want for nothing. No woman will ever give him more than he can have with me.' Parallel to that thought she knew that the corollary was true as well, that he would do anything for her. That he was her hero and that he would take joy in giving just as she would.

Oddly, Philip was thinking of Mei again. He wasn't fantasizing that Ai was Mei or even comparing their bodies. It was the feeling that Mei was either crazy to encourage him to be where he was, doing what he was doing, or she was sincerely ok with it. She seemed more than ok, in fact, she outright demanded it of him. 'That's too good to be true,' he thought. Then as Ai lent back and he saw the way she looked into his eyes, changing focus from one to the other, about to say something, thoughts of Mei vanished. 'She's going to say it,' he was sure, the love word was going to be spoken. Was he ready? It was so fast. But perhaps she was right, perhaps she knew love better than he and that all of that catching up could be done at Home Depot? Why not? She is so different than anyone he'd ever known. She seemed a perfect person, but they all started that way, didn't they?

Then, without warning, something quieted his mind. It was like a spell cast from behind those eyes of hers, a communication from within her soul, 'I'm everything I promise. You love me. I am quintessential woman and I am all yours.'

Whatever it was it made him shiver, made his cock pulse and she smiled.

She turned, keeping those eyes upon his, put a hand up on the wall and looked over her shoulder, wet hair plastered down her back which curved at an impossible angle. She had one hand between her legs, waiting to guide him in.

He moved against her and let her take him to her entrance. He pushed calmly forward and in. He gave it to her slowly to imbue meaning into his first penetration.

"Ahhh," she sighed.

"Ai... let me love you."

"Yes."

"Let me love you," he repeated. He only felt the desire to care for her. No inkling of a need to change or improve. The idea if moulding her was just not present. She was already such a happy person that trying to change her as he had Mei would only damage her. She would be devoted and she would be his companion; she was already.

"Don't say it until you feel it, Philip," she said, both palms on the cool marble wall. "But I can say it now 'cause it's what I feel."

His hands moved from her thin hips and taut skin to her breasts.

"I wanted this that first time at your place. Wanted to surround you like this, have you inside me." Ai's voice was controlled, and while she hummed her pleasure, she didn't use the sound to entice him to come quickly or to excite him as she would have a client. Philip was the one, after all. She was patient, savoring him, letting his timing predominate.

She turned her head up and back and he held her face in his big hand, fingers splayed out over her from chin to forehead.

He was taking - she was giving.

'Love me,' she thought and, wondering why she was keeping her thoughts to herself, spoke them. "Love me. Love me, Philip. Rub my insides with your love."

He had never thought of it that way before. 'That's an... interesting... way to put it,' he thought and wondered if she was using 'love' as a euphemism or if it were a metaphor. He hoped it was the latter; he preferred similes to metaphors but not in this case.

Not having a handy reply for, 'rub my insides with your love,' he settled for grunts and 'Oh god's.

"Take from me. Take how I feel for you and bathe in it, sleep with me and let me watch your dreams. Let me give everything and take everything and be your lover."

He leant backward, pulling his toned chest and stomach away from her back, mottled with droplets on her tan skin, and watched his cock slide out from between her small, firm cheeks.