From Jenny to Mei Ch. 25

It was well after one when Philip, feeling surprisingly spry and alert, returned from his evening with Tim. As the night had progressed and the alcohol accumulated in his bloodstream, he felt a developing sympathy for the younger man. It wasn't difficult to understand his predicament; some rich guy was swooping in to dazzle his girlfriend and spirit her off to live in his castle. Yet, the reality was different. Firstly, it was Mei doing the dazzling. Secondly, Karla wanted to be swept away and his loft wasn't a castle.

He opened the steel mesh-covered outer door as quietly as he could, thinking the grating needed to be taken off, sandblasted and enameled. It had been good enough for him, but now that Ai lived there it needed to look better. Why he didn't think Mei deserved a better front door didn't occur to him as he stealthily climbed the stairs.

He found the girls spooned together asleep on the couch, the slightly shorter Ai behind curled like an infant, her nose nestled in Mei's hair at her shoulder, her right arm at Mei's chest, clung to as though Mei feared she would evaporate. Her right leg surmounted Mei's own which was slightly vertical, her hips a bit open, her left leg bent at the knee.

Philip thought it perhaps the most adorable and sexy thing he had ever seen. It didn't burn with the kind of erotisism of last night in the hotel, which had been so hot he had feared his eyes might scorch. This image showed a subtle warmth, contentment and affection. It was a beautiful thing to see, and, had he been a woman, he would have thought the word 'darling.'

He noticed that Mei, to his surprise, was wearing a black corset thing with red trim in addition to his collar. He had gotten so accustomed to her being naked he thought of it as her uniform and didn't know if he should feel good or bad about her choice to wear something.

Ai had on semi-sheer pink panties that were tight along the curve of her hip. The color of her skin showed through as a different, darker shade of its original hue. He pushed his eyes up to travel over the curve of her hip, visually caressing her flank; soft ridges over her ribcage created a washboard of supple flesh slowly surging with her breath. His eyes docked at her matching bra. One light pink strap lazily bowed to touch the side of her arm.

Pink wasn't what he expected. White was Ai's best color. White set off her skin the way cream does coffee making the white and black, not grey but... he tried to think of the words for that color to help him know it better. Buff? Tan? Tawny? It was the color of a cardboard box, of freshly sawn cherry wood or toast done on the number three setting, of pancakes glazed with a touch of syrup. It was the delicious color of cream custard and tea with milk. It was the color of the cashmere throw that even now wound between the two of them.

He had never seen her in pink before and was still unsure if it suited her until he saw her nails. They were fanned out over Mei's forearm as if on display; four soft pink shells at the ends of slender fingers. The tips, he noticed, were of a lighter shade, almost white and the enamel was flawless, like the paint job on a sports car.

'What does pink mean?' he found himself wondering as he measured the beauty of those digits. 'Pink. It's a young girl's favorite color. It's fun in a frivolous, girl kinda way, but why? What does a girl say when she's in pink?' His mind drifted as he shifted his eyes to nibble on the image of exposed breast flesh shrouded by her pretty pink bra. 'Pretty in pink... peach pink... sunset pink...' Knowing Ai she would know exactly why pink worked for her and what she wanted pink to say. 'Pink is sweet, pink is innocent. It's bubblegum, and flower petals, and cupcake frosting. Pink is tight underwear over naked, peach pink, pussy lips.' And now, with hardly any thought at all, he knew why Ai wore pink.

And so he stood, quiet and unmoving, for another minute while he emptied his mind and let his adoration have its moment. It felt good to gaze on them, to admire their sleeping forms. Their faces looked so remarkably peaceful and young, as though their slumber made them more innocent, more pure and even more feminine.

Oddly, sleep didn't change Ai's face the way it seemed to transform Mei Chun's. Seeing Ai as an angel fit in a way that seeing Mei as one did not. Of course, Mei had been, when she was Jenny, a sly, insensitive, manipulative bitch, and Ai, even though she'd been a whore, had probably always been sweet. She was angelic in a way that Mei just could not be. Ai was spirit shining from within a human body but Mei was body; she was earth and moss and thunderstorms. When Mei got hot she glowed the red of raw iron primed for the blacksmith's hammer. She wasn't soulless; quite the contrary. The way she looked at him on occasion, burrowing her feelings into him through the portal of his eyes, let him know she had spirit. Hers was the kind of inner strength that told a man that she brooked no bullshit. Some called what she had an indomitable will, others called it pure bitch. And he liked that part of her, now that it had been sufficiently harnessed and tempered.

At times he vacillated in his opinion, hesitantly contemplated, of who was the more beautiful. From one minute to the next he would change his view. Mei, perhaps, had a more glorious carriage. Only half an inch or so taller she appeared to be more substantial somehow; more massive in a good way. And as for her face, her chin was slightly more angular, her eyebrows thicker, her lips more plump. She had an ass that was marginally more suited to his tastes, and of course, her breasts were... well, quite frankly, they were perfection. Ideal in proportion, in softness and shape with rounded cherry stones centered in soft brown circles which blossomed goose flesh when aroused. She had the kind of tits pre-pubescent girls would sacrifice their baby brothers for.

And yet Ai had more, what could be called, inner beauty manifest at her surface. She had everything that Mei did in terms of physical beauty, if not in the same measure. But she had more of what the French called je ne sais quoi, that elusive, indefinable characteristic that made more of the parts than was accountable by their sum.

They both had radiant smiles more common to children of four or five than young women of twenty. And yet Ai was naturally happier than Mei and brightened her surroundings more freely.

In short, Ai was pink and Mei was red. One was a young model traipsing over a hill wearing a light summer dress that fluttered in the breeze, the other a sultry vixen in lingerie tempting a man to his doom.

His thinking done, he took one last look and whispered within himself his pledge to never neglect them or become complacent. Then he faced the problem before him; in what order should he carry them back to his bed? Which one might be disappointed that he hadn't roused her first? He pondered until he felt stupid for not realizing that Ai wouldn't care about things like that. But, then again, maybe it was just the kind of thing that was most important to her. He shrugged. 'Can one ever really know the mind of a woman?' Yet he didn't really have a choice given the position they were in.

He knelt in front of the couch and moved a wisp of ink black hair from Mei's face. Her eyes opened, her cheeks formed a sleepy smile, then she blinked a few times and wrapped her arms around his neck. He gently hoisted her from Ai's embrace and carried her silently away from the couch.

"Like it?" she whispered and gestured with her eyes to her lingerie.

"Almost better than naked."

As he set her on the bed she gave him a quick kiss and apologized for falling asleep, whispering how they had planned a nice welcome home scene for him but they just couldn't hold the pose any longer. "I can only stare at her pussy for so long before I have to give it a little lick. Sorry."

He smiled a reply as he lay her on the bed.

"Go do her on the couch before you come back. I think she's got one more in her."

"Get some sleep," he said and undressed her. With a kiss to her forehead he left the room.

~~~~~

He woke Ai with caresses to her leg. Eyes still closed, she purred an 'mmmm' sound from deep within her throat then groggily turned onto her belly with a sexy groan and a drowsy smile. She lifted her tummy for the pillow he stuffed beneath her hips and didn't say a word as he hooked his fingers in the gap between the waistband and her flesh at the center of her upturned rump.

'Ummm yeah. Just what I need,' she thought with pleasant anticipation; an effortless fuck was exactly what she wanted. To be pushed into, to be stuffed, to feel his weight press upon her and his thumbs to lift her butt cheeks the way he liked to do. To liberate some deep moans of pleasure and give him a warm, wet place to leave his seed would be the ideal end to the evening.

She felt him pull her panties down and reflected that she picked the right pair, the pink ones; of course she could not miss the opportunity to paint her nails and toes the identical 'lovie dovie' shade Mei had in her junk. She knew he would figure out the pink symbolism, that she was affection and tenderness, feminine in a sweet rather than sultry way. Sweet offered love while sultry demanded something in return. She wanted him to know that she required nothing of him, that she was all offer and no demand. And pink might make him feel a bit wicked, like she was pristine and virginal, something too delicate to despoil. And then she wanted him to fuck her so hard her teeth rattled.

"Uh huh," she encouraged when she felt his stiffness rub along the valley of her vulva and tickle her clit. At moments like this she reflected on love and how sweet it was. The feel of his dick gliding on her pussy caused her to consider how it was God's compensation for the difficulties of life.

"I fucking love pink!" he said in a gravelly voice that showed just how enthusiastic he had become for the color. "Sweet, fucking pink!"

His dick nuzzled at the mouth of her vagina.

"Wet pink," she groaned as his head pushed in.

"Fucking - sopping - sweet - squishy pink."

She giggled for a second then turned her voice back to a sexy growl. "Hot..."

"Damn yes, hot. Hot, dripping, sweet..."

"Pink tunnel. Pink vagina. Say it..."

"What?"

"Say vagina!"

"Goddamn - good - tight - pink... Fucking..."

"Say it!"

"Not yet."

"It's gonna make you come. Just the word, isn't it? Saying vagina while you're seven inches inside me."

He grunted in agreement or ecstasy, she couldn't tell.

"Shoving that glorious love stick in me. Think of it, Philip, picture it. Long, hard covered in that sheath of soft dick skin."

"Uhnng."

"My mèimèi (pussy) loves that dick. She's addicted to this feeling."

"She can have all she wants."

Like a popped balloon she exclaimed, "Really? 'Cause she wants a lot."

"Ummph," he grunted.

"Like, a lot! Can I make a standing appointment for one p.m? Just set a reminder in your phone; 'it's one o'clock, time to fuck Ai,'?"

"Everyday?" He knew she was serious.

"Don't worry, baby. I've got a regimen I'm working on for you."

"A regimen?"

"Yeah, a training routine, y'know? Like... Ouff!" she sounded like a train being rammed in the caboose when he hit her hard like that. "... like exercises and vitamins and some ancient Vietnamese secrets. You'll be a stud in no time. Not that you aren't already."

"Your stud?"

"Mine, Mei Chun's, doesn't really matter." He sunk deep again distracting her thoughts. She mumbled something incoherent that sounded vaguely Vietnamese

"And I'm gonna have to do the both of you every day?"

"The prospect unpleasant to you? Hmmm, Master?"

"No, it's just..."

"Just leave it to me. My grandma was a witch. Did I tell you that?"

"Ai, I'm in the middle of..."

"I know, I like talking with you while you're jabbing me with that thing."

"So, a witch, huh?"

"Yep! More like a Bà phù thủy but there's no good translation. My daddy's momma was responsible for the fertility of a whole province. Mom told me that fine French ladies from the colonial capital used to come by our house for her treatments."

"Did they work?"

"Uff!" Ai grunted as he hit her deep again. "Hell yeah! Ugh... oohh yes, damn, she absolutely loves that dick."

"Your grandma?"

"My mèimèi. It's like it was made for me... but, of course, it was." She changed back to her conversational tone when he moderated his thrusts. "Anyway, they worked, of course they did."

"And did she pass on her secrets?"

Ai looked back at him, twisted her body, reached back to grasp her right ass cheek with her right hand. "Look down and tell me what you see."

He did look down but didn't have the concentration to comment.

"I've got my man drilling his glorious dick into my soft, sweet, pink vagina. I'm doing ok without any of grandma's secrets."

"Good point."

"Time to really fuck me, okay?"

"Right," he said and grasped her hips and shifted gears.

She let a full minute go by only vocalizing her pleasure, then said, "It's not a muscle y'know. It's a chamber... ughhh... two chambers actually. Long thick tubes full of your... ughhh, um yeah, Philip, just like that... your blood."

He noticed her shiver a bit when she said 'blood'.

"Think of the pressure! It's got to be like three or four pounds a square inch. I mean, ... dang, God I love that dick... normal blood pressure is like one-twenty over eighty which is..."

Philip put both thumbs at the center of her tight little butt cheeks and his fingers spread out over the small of her back. He lifted with them and raised the meat of her cheeks. He enjoyed the sight; his wet cock disappearing inside her vagina, her inner labial lips being pulled away from her body when he drew out.

"... like, one PSI... Ugh...! Deep, so deep!... is, like fifty-two millimeters of mercury... I so like your dick!!" He jabbed her hard and pressed himself all the way forward to push at her cervix, "... is, like double that when you're hard. Oh, damn I love it when you nudge it like that! But not too hard, okay?"

"So tell me about granny." He was interested and since they had some of their best conversations like this didn't think it awkward in the least. It had the added benefit of prolonging their lovemaking and he enjoyed trying to knock her off her flow.

"Didn't ever meet her... died years before, when they... still there."

"Still where?"

"Whereya'think? Ugghf! Dang boy, trying to poke my kidney? Vietnam."

"Got a picture?"

"Home... mantle piece."

"Pretty as a girl?"

"They say... Ouff! Careful!"

"Sorry. Pretty?"

"Yeah, said she was famous. Don't think grandpa was the... Ummm, that spot right there. Right deep and up toward my belly. Like that."

"My dick doesn't bend that way."

"Just... well how did you hit..? just do it... yes... right like... oh-mmmmm."

"You were saying she didn't just fuck gramps."

"Mom won't say exactly... just that..." She went quiet again, letting her mind concentrate on his movements inside her. She rolled her hips to angle his cock toward that spot.

"Did witches..." he asked.

She didn't want to be disturbed at this point but listened with a smidgen of her concentration.

"... you know?"

She lifted her ass just that extra millimeter, which was just enough. "OhmaGod... that's the spot!" Her neck arched as she scrunched her eyes closed and luxuriated in his penetration. 'Nail me! Nail me,' she thought, 'fucking hit that spot again.'

But he didn't, he chose that moment to shift his knees and prompted her for an answer.

"Kinda, but not in the way you might think."

Having become more comfortable he slowed his tempo, still curious to see if prostitution ran in her family. The adjustment allowed her to gather her thoughts.

"Sex and love and life are different in Asia. She had responsibilities. That's what momma called it."

"To fuck around?"

"To cure men, sometimes. That's what I understood it to mean. And to teach women how to get the most from their men."

He took a moment to file away the ideas he was having. Maybe Ai was more enchantress than she knew. Maybe it skipped generations. He'd think about it later. Now it was time to bring things to a finish and put her to bed.

He started driving harder, picking up the tempo and grunting an exclamation at the end of each stroke. "Ughh-god, Ughh-baby, Ughh-Ai."

She tried to line him up but he wasn't taking her signals. He'd entered that phase she knew so well, the one where men left most thought at the curb. She didn't mind and rather than focus on her own pleasure, rather than try to adjust his glide to hit that spot again, she concentrated on his impending orgasm.

"Pink," she whispered.

"Pink," he answered and began to grumble it with each drive of his hips.

"Pink!" she said louder.

"Pink. So pink."

"Pink, deep in my pink..."

"Pink. Fucking, perfect pink." he said.

"I'm pink. So your pink... your pretty pink pussy."

"Fucking - perfect - pink - pussy."

"My sweet... pink... pussy." She fought the urge to cry. "Tight sweet pink peach." Emotions tended to overwhelm her when the strength of their connection got this intense; and she loved a crying orgasm.

"Pink!"

"What flavor?" she asked, "What flavor am I?"

"Sex." He thumped into the tops of her thighs with his own. "Fucking sex flavor."

"Unmmng."

"Sweet..." he moaned.

"Hot!?"

"Goddamn hot 'n sweet ..."

"... juicy..."

"... juicy fucking peach flavored sex! Light, fresh peach. You're peach, so fucking perfect pink peach."

"Fuck my peach, Philip! Ram my sweet, sopping peach cunt!"

"Uggh...GOD."

"Yes!" Ai screamed. "Yes. Do it! Gimme that cream!"

"Oh... f.f..fuck."

"Say it!"

"Sweet, juicy, peach vagina!"

"Come in my hot pink vagina, Philip!" She growled in a deep voice as though the soul of Lauren Bacall possessed her body. She arched her back even further, looked over her shoulder at him and said, "Aim for that little hole in my backstop and squirt that cum in my womb!"

(He had never heard the term 'backstop' used for cervix before and thought it appropriate.)

"Aaahhhhggrrr AI!!"

He stopped pumping, lunged to grasp the couch arm and pulled his body forward to cram his dick head into her 'backstop' He felt it, that soft little sponge at the end of her cunt and as he unloaded time and again his mind could not refuse the image of the two holes aligning, his cock spurting past that ring of flesh and right into the unknown depths of her uterus.

His contractions seemed to Ai to reverberate inside of her. She echoed them with a squeeze of her kegle muscles and moaned, "Peaches 'n cream, peaches 'n cream."

She loved it but Ai didn't come, which was fine. Even one of the big ones he gave her wouldn't improve the moment. He was coming, giving her that instant she treasured most; when she could see the look of anguished love on his face, the grimace of ecstasy, as he throbbed inside her. It wasn't her imagination, she could sense the exchange between their eyes, their souls. 'Sex is magic,' she thought as she envisioned his spurting cock gush into her womb.

Spent, he fell along her back.

She began to coo with contentment and wiggled her butt as his hot breath swirled through the auricle of her ear. Though she knew just the sounds that men liked at a moment like this she used her throat and closed mouth to express what she felt. Of course they were the same sounds but everything was new with Philip. She'd made the "Ummmm" a hundred times, the sound that said, "You're so the greatest lover in the world." But now the "Ummmm" had an "ahhh" and "Oh my fucking God, I love this guy," sound she'd never made before.