From Jenny to Mei Ch. 22

The talk drifted and Philip noticed Mei had become distracted. "What are you thinking about, Mei?" he asked as Ai started focusing on drawing.

"Oh, nothing," she said, attempting a fake smile, already knowing it was useless to hide from him but wishing to ignore the issue that had been plaguing her.

"Don't make me wait, honey."

She let her eyes plead and tried to muster a nonchalant tone, "I really don't want to talk about it."

"I want to hear it. If it's about Tim you had better tell me while I'm in a good mood."

"It's not Tim."

"Gonna do this the easy way?" he asked with a bit of threat in his voice which usually got her horny, but now just made her nervous. She knew what the hard way was and didn't relish being spanked in front of Ai.

"But you'll be in a bad mood if I tell you and I feel so bad already. Just thinking about it makes me sad."

This talk got Ai's attention and she put down the pencil and looked at big sis with concern. "Tell him qíng rén (sweetheart). It'll be ok."

"Ai," she said, raising her eyebrows for emphasis, "you haven't seen him angry."

Ai considered for a moment and thought maybe she shouldn't be a part of this particular conversation. "Do you want me to leave?"

"I want you to stay," Philip said and looked at Mei. "Tell me Mei or I'll punish you and it won't be the kind you like."

"Ok. Don't send me home again," she implored. "Really, Philip. Promise me one thing, you won't send me home."

"Tell me, Mei." He saw the way Ai was looking at him. "Ok, I won't send you home."

"I've been thinking..." she said. It was so hard to ask this. She knew he had been pissed about Tim and to ask this now was probably the worst time imaginable. It was nice to have Ai there, although she didn't think he'd actually hit her, her presence was a comforting moral support.

"Can you promise not to get angry?"

"No."

"Can you promise that my punishment won't be beating me up?"

"Mei." There was surprise and a bit of dejection in his voice. "I love you and I wouldn't actually beat you. I mean I've never hit a woman other than you."

Mei thought that was sweet and felt a little better.

"What's the problem?" he demanded.

Oh this really wasn't going to be easy. "Did you ever see Dr. K when you visited the clinic? The guy in his sixties?"

"Um, wears sweaters?"

"Yeah, silver hair?"

"Yeah, I think twice. Nice gentle old guy." Philip smiled at the memory, "We just sat and talked about women for twenty minutes on the second visit when he realized what I was up to."

"Well, he's going through some tough times right now. His son's been diagnosed with cancer and he lost his wife just two years ago and I feel so bad for him."

"Uh huh?" He had no idea what she wanted from him.

"Well... " Mei was about to continue when he said, "Stop for a second." He wanted to think. She sat looking at him, one hand on his knee, watching his mind searching.

"Does he need money?"

"No, not that," her eyes tried to find something other than his eyes to look at. Whenever she saw the man within those gorgeous green eyes she lost her determination.

Philip continued to think. How could he help? He couldn't get the guy's kid into an experimental treatment plan. Then again perhaps he could. But that would be asking a lot for the son of a friend, to hack into some medical database and add him to a list, which probably wouldn't work anyway. He gave up, "What did you have in mind?"

"Well," she began timidly, "I can't give him anything to get his mind off his son's illness, I mean, I can't buy him anything. I mean, what does a sixty-year-old guy want? Right?" She sort of tittered nervously.

Philip was still puzzled; Ai was not.

"You see, I think if I could give him something to distract him, something he could look forward to and couldn't get, you know, like, on his own."

She was stalling; she knew he wasn't going to like it.

"Out with it, Mei."

"Please, let me say it my way."

He saw the plea in her crinkled brow. "Does this mean a lot to you?"

"Yes."

"So much that you would risk pissing me off?"

"Yes. I know that and I'll take it just for asking."

To Philip it showed a real courage and he was preparing to agree unless it was outrageous. "Ok. Tell me your way."

"So, well, you see. He lost his wife two years ago and he's such a sweet guy, like everyone's grandfather. And it's not for me, ok? I mean, I didn't think of this as something for me, it's for him. You understand, a gift, not something I want."

Ai figured it out long before Philip did. She thought it was really sweet of Mei.

"Ok...?" It was said as a question, like 'get on with it.'

"Well... I thought that, he'd like, y'know, like all guys do, something I could do for him."

A glint shown behind the green flecks in his eyes as they widened in comprehension. She saw it and knew time had run out.

"So..." she screwed up her courage, "I want to give him a blow job or two." She clinched her eyes closed and braced for the impact of a hand against her cheek or a scream and a stream of obscenities that told her she was a whore.

But nothing came.

Slowly, tentatively, she opened one eye, than the other and saw him leaning back on the bed, a vacant stare on his face.

"No." His face changed from displaying shock to a puzzled anger. "Can you believe this girl, Ai?" He looked back at Mei. "What part of, 'no other guys,' is difficult to understand?"

"I think it's sweet," Ai said and hugged her.

"Thanks, Ai." Mei squeezed her hand.

"No," he said again. He closed his eyes and paused. "Sweetheart." Taking a deep breath and exhaling he adopted a new tone. "You're not just... I don't want you to think sex is the only thing you can give people."

Mei felt bad.

"You have so much to give and you can do so much for people."

"I do that already. I've tried to be understanding and sympathetic but that's what everyone else does. Put yourself in his shoes for a second. You're old, no one finds you sexually attractive. Your wife died, you have no prospect of getting sex of any kind for the rest of your life."

He looked at Ai and instantly saw in her face that she agreed with her. He heard her admonition earlier that he could afford to be kind to other men. He figured he had done that already with Tim but realized this was an ongoing commitment to his half of the species.

"He probably doesn't even think about it anymore. Maybe he can't even get it up," he said.

"Do you really think so, Philip? I can't imagine that."

"Yeah, well me neither to tell you the truth."

"It won't be sexual, I mean, it won't be love, just a release. A pleasant distraction for him."

"It would certainly do that," Ai mused.

"Mei, Mei, Mei, what am I going to do with you?" He looked at Ai. "What do you think?"

"Mei Chun is not going to fall in love with him. That's pretty clear. I've had lots of sex with guys in their late fifties and a couple in their sixties. You've never seen someone as appreciative as they are. One guy wanted to put me in his will."

"Ai." He closed his eyes again and massaged his temples with the fingers of one hand. "You can share all you want with the girls but please don't tell me stories about past lovers, either the paying kind or not, ok? Unless they were women."

"Ok," she said with a bit of regret, "I sort of forgot my current role. Sorry."

"It's ok. It's just that. You know... I would rather think of you as mine. Which is the problem with Mei giving this old guy head."

"It won't be often," Mei said weakly.

"No."

"I can do it Philip, if that concerns you," Ai offered. "Or I can find someone."

"Not you, Ai. You are all mine, ok. I mean both of you are mine but..."

Mei interrupted, "It wouldn't mean anything to him. I mean I can't give that by proxy." She put up her fingers in the quote gesture, "Hi Dr. K. I'm really sorry your son's dying of cancer. I want to make you feel better. This girl's gonna give you head." She put her hands down. "See the disconnect?"

"She's got a point," Ai said.

"But my god Mei. Do you know what you are asking of me? I'm the jealous type. I mean, don't you think the stereotypical love blackmailer, the guy who whips his girlfriend into submission, is sort of possessive. I mean I just can't let you blow some other guy."

"You did it before."

He shot her an angry look. "That's not fair. You know that. You know all that shit was part of breaking you and you know that it's what you needed. Do you think I did that for fun? You saw me cry. All of that was for you." He brushed his hair back with parted fingers. "I tried to get you the soft way, Mei, if you'll remember. I tried to be the nice guy but I learned that's not what you needed."

"But I'm not doing this for my sexual kicks or to get something from someone. I don't want to control him or manipulate him. I want to do it because I like him and I like giving. Do you think I wanted to ask you this? Like I get off sucking old men?"

"Then why?"

"You turned me into someone who likes to give rather than take. He means a lot to me and to see him suffer hurts and I want to know I've done everything I can for him."

"Do you think it's true, Ai?"

She heard him ask as though he were addressing his subconscious. She heard the concern in his voice, his fear that Mei would drift from him.

"I love you, Philip, but I've only known Mei Chun for a very short time. I mean if you ask me in a month I could give you my opinion with more confidence. But from what I know, I trust her completely." She paused to yield if he wanted to speak and then continued when he did not. "I think you should let her. I believe her about why she wants to do this. I think you should trust her, Philip. Love is trust and I know that she loves you. For god's sake she is sharing you, the man she loves, with me. She wants your happiness. Isn't that enough proof of how much she loves you?"

Ai was speaking just as his conscience was. The words were resonating within him. Mei had indeed given all she could, he could not think of a proof beyond which she'd already given him.

"The idea of sharing you with a woman was hard enough for me..." he said.

"But it worked out ok," Mei said.

"Yes, but it's not like I'm going to turn the doctor into a sex slave now is it?"

"No, true. But does there have to be something for you?"

That question caused him to stop thinking. It sank into his conscience like the lead weight pulling a lure to the bottom of a lake. He felt a twinge of selfishness, the cost of ownership.

"No. There doesn't. What if he doesn't want it and gets you into trouble?"

"He wouldn't, I'm sure. He's such a sweet old man he wouldn't want to do that. Anyway, I might not be there long. Why don't you think about it for a while."

She crawled into his lap, she wanted to thank him but figured it would be presumptuous. "Thank you for not getting angry." She felt she could thank him for that at least.

After a few minutes of mulling it over while Ai shifted the topic with Mei, he decided he was too worn out to think. He asked Ai to turn out the lights and when she returned to bed he molded her against his chest and Mei chose the other side of him, her back toward him. He wondered if her choice of position indicated a quiet threat, that if he denied her request she would turn cold on him. Then, as she said, "I love you, Philip. You mean more to me than anything ever has," he decided he was over reacting.

While the girls' breath transitioned to a rhythmic, gentle purring he stroked Mei's hip from above the sheet, admiring again the perfection of that particular feminine curve. He reflected on their sex together. It had been so different, loving them both at the same time; no, that wasn't how to think of it, they had joined one another in making love. Nothing had happened as he had envisioned, there were no feats of acrobatic sex, no awkward contortions or porn positions. It was, he reflected, more about love than sex and he felt really good about that, like he had done his part to make something exceptional for them. And the way Ai had invaded him completely blew his mind and he now accepted that, while it was still disquieting in a way, he wanted more of exactly that feeling of being utterly subject to her power.

And then there was Mei to ruin things at the end. He shouldn't blame her, he figured. He had forced her to speak her mind. And, given that her transformation was so recent he shouldn't be surprised. He surmised that the request arose from a mixing of the two personalities. Mei was doing exactly as she had been commanded to do, find ways to please and serve. The remnant of Jenny figured sex was the only currency she possessed. And since the transformation was as yet incomplete the project was coming back to bite him in the ass.

While he mulled over his responsibility and what action was best for her, he felt his will begin to bend.

As he let loose the last cord tying him to the wakeful world he wondered; was he the master, or was he her servant, and did it matter?

##########

Sarah tossed and turned in her bed. It was moments like this that reminded her that life was slipping away. She fidgeted, turned the pillow, punched it a few times in as much an expression of frustration as to soften it. She missed Mitch. She hated herself for it but knew longing for him was natural. She caught shadows of his presence; smelling his scent, saw ghost images of his razor in the bathroom, mistaking her shirt for his crumbled jeans in the corner by the closet mirror. 'God, they used to look sexy, those worn jeans just rumpled in the corner.'

She wanted a man, wanted Mitch still, but wanted his maleness most of all.

At times like this, few as they had been in her life, she had taken refuge in 'dates' with her toys. But it no longer seemed to work. She had tried twenty minutes ago, even resorting to porn, which just made her feel incredulous and slimy. Even the classy stuff hadn't worked. She simply felt jealous of the slim twenty-nothing girls being romanced then hammered by their men. The attempt had backfired, growing her self-pity and her sexual frustration.

She needed. She knew what she needed. She needed someone to stare in her eyes, pin her hips to the bed and grind themselves into her and say the magic words. She needed him to hold her, to kiss her forehead and to be there when she woke up.

But it wouldn't happen. How could it? She was to be wed to the center for the rest of her life, tied to children that no one else wanted. She had to take what life had given her and make the most of it.

She thought about Mei Chun, how that skinny little Asian tart had everything that she didn't but mostly how she had Philip.

She mashed the pillow again. "Philip," she grumbled.

Her list of complaints was long; too stupid to know when he had found the right girl, too easily swayed by a nice pair of tits and a pretty face, and most of all, too timid to tell her that he loved her. She had known it that last night before he went to prison. Any woman would have. He couldn't look her in the eye, couldn't let himself make her suffer with a quiet, 'God, I love you Sarah, I'm going to think about you every minute in there.' He was being noble, she figured, or his idea of what noble was. But all he had had to say was, "Four years inside, then we get married," or just, "wait for me." That would have done it. But no. He said nothing. Nothing for her to cling to.

Then, four years later, she had met him at that restaurant they used to go to. She had seen the look of resignation in his eye. The fear that she had changed.

It was partly her fault, she should have said it first thing; the moment their eyes had met, even before the hug. However, she left it till their parting. The "I love you, Philip," were words so long delayed, crowded by so many other intervening words that they had lost their power. They sounded, delivered as they were, like a good bye rather than the hello they were meant to be.

True, she was dating Mitch at the time, but that was insignificant. He must have known that. She gave all the traditional indications. Mitch was plan B. All Philip had to do was put it out there, tell her he wanted her. She knew it was true and had been rooting for him, praying he would just say it, anything. But again, nothing.

She ignored him for months after that, dedicated herself to Mitch, even flew off to Indonesia with him. And everything would have been fine, she would be three weeks from her wedding, had not that asshole spotted her in the bar and started blurting out his praise for her blow jobs.

"Fucking Men!" she shouted, punching the pillow again and vowing to free herself of her dependency on the masculine side of humanity.

##########

Philip's sleep was troubled. His thoughts regarding Mei's request had perturbed what should have been blissful, sex sated sleep between two lovely young bodies. Yet he lay in bed, awake after only a couple hours of rest, listening to their breathing, feeling their warmth. Ai was to his right, her surprisingly light head rested on his chest. Mei was on his left, her now familiar body turned, back nestling his ribs, her adorable little ass pressing his thigh.

'How could she ask this?' he wondered. How, after so clearly stating, time and again, that he would not share them with another man, did she have the gall to ask? 'I shouldn't have forced her to tell me,' he considered. 'I should have let her think about it more. Maybe she would have forgotten about the idea; seen it wasn't fair.'

The word, 'fair' kept recurring in his thoughts. Tim had used it and so had he but Philip never liked the word. He had once whined to his father that something or another, probably related to money, wasn't fair. The look his father had given him had become a symbol of disdain. His father loved him so Philip didn't see that face often, yet when he did he always remembered the word 'fair' and how his disdain felt. It was a selfish word used to justify selfish desires.

After ten minutes he was nearly panting in rage. He had set the word, and the idea that he was the selfish one, aside as it was interfering with his anger. 'The ungrateful bitch wants to reassert herself,' he thought, 'Jenny's trying to regain control.'

He let the ire burn, let his plans form. He would redouble her agony, punish her with isolation, take back the card, show her that Ai could replace her.

But as the plans for punishment began to pile in a disordered heap of outrage and sinister thoughts collided in a train wreck of bitterness he realized what he was doing. 'Fair,' he thought and recognized that he was engaged in emotional thinking and knew it was a mistake.

Unlike most men, or women for that matter, Philip was gifted with a certain, though limited, self-knowledge. He could sense which half of his personality was in control.

'Calm down,' he spoke to his fevered temper. 'Get a grip.'

She asked, that was point number one. Jenny would not have asked.

Point two, the guy's kid was dying of cancer, which sucked. He could empathize with that, not deep empathy but his father had died that way and he knew the torment to loved ones that was involved. Her plan, if that was what it was, had an elegant if blunt simplicity to it. It wouldn't make him forget his son's illness but it would give his mind something else to think about.

Point three, he was old. He remembered the guy and the description 'grandfatherly' hit the mark. He was soft and slow and he listened. The kind of man, if she had to fuck another guy, or 'just blow him,' Philip could accept. If she had asked to have sex with a guy at the gym he would have choked her, and not the 'just for sex' kind.

Then Philip thought of something his father had said when he gave him his mother's wedding ring. "If it doesn't mean anything to you then it's not a gift. You need to learn that, son. You need to see the difference between a present and a gift. Gifts have to hurt a little."