From Jenny to Mei Ch. 26

"Hello, Mrs. Ma."

"Ai, get back here!" she called but Ai just answered in something incomprehensible to Philip. Her mother smiled at him and an awkward silence ensued. "Ai!" she said again and the awkwardness intensified.

"You two just get to know each other," she finally yelled down the hall. "He's wonderful, mother, and Philip..."

"Yes?"

"She doesn't bite."

"Let's talk," he said, taking a seat at the table, "I've wanted to meet you."

Mrs. Ma was anything but impolite and she knew enough about her daughter to know she would not return until she heard the two of them talking. "You like something to drink? Sorry about my daughter, she has her father's pig head."

"Do you have some coffee made, or tea?" He saw the half-filled coffee pot a moment ago in his quick scan of the kitchen.

"Yes, I have some but it's Viet coffee."

"Great, please make it just like you normally do. I love Viet food. Are you making soup?"

"Just stock." She stood and saw a woman who looked just like Ai in profile save for wider hips and larger breasts. "So, you my little girl's lover?" It sounded like 'lova' in her thickly-accented English.

"I wish she hadn't said it that way, quite so plainly, but yes. I'm in love with your daughter."

"Sometimes she is a wicked one... What's your name again?"

"Philip."

"Philip... yes. How old are you, where you meet her?"

"I'm thirty-five and we met when she helped me with an engineering problem." It was the most diplomatic answer he could think of.

"You having sex with her?"

There was no possibility of prevarication. "Yes."

"Well," she said pouring the coffee in a beer mug with ice, "at least you don't lie about it. She is almost twenty and don't listen to her momma anyway. I just want her happy and not pregnant before she married."

The look she gave him was priceless and he chuckled a bit before answering, "Neither do I."

Her mother got a can of sweetened condensed milk from the fridge and poured a thick stream into the mug and stirred it with a long handled spoon.

"Are you her teacher?"

"No, I'm in computer security. I have an IT company."

"Good," she said, and returned to the table and set down the glass in front of him. "I have one boy and one daughter and I love her best but she drive me crazy. A mother likes her daughter to be simple and good. Sometime Ai drive me..."

"Crazy?" he offered.

"Yeah, like now."

"But she's very sweet."

"Sure, she sweet to you. She like boys... always like boys but she don't listen to her momma. I tell her 'not so many boys.' She in high school, the boys around here like ants."

"She's very pretty."

"Too pretty. I tell her to be simple. Be nice girl, find one boy and stay with him but always more boys."

"Mother!" Ai yelled from somewhere.

"You come out and I stop talking," her mother yelled back. "Maybe not my business but do you feel you too old for my Ai?"

"Hmm, well maybe but what can I do about that?"

"Hmmm," she seemed to concede the point. "Do you have money, good job?"

Ai reentered the room to put the empty basket back in the laundry room and casually said a few words in their tongue. Her mother's eyes widened a bit but not dramatically. She didn't say anything right away, then, "My daughter need a good man. Maybe an older man is what she need. Maybe you can control her. Her father she listen to, but her mother never."

Ai returned into the room from the laundry, gave him a wink and wrapped her arms around her mother as the older lady turned to look at her. Her momma smiled with the hug, her eyes crinkling with the displacement of her flesh and the press of Ai's lips on her cheek. Ai sat down next to her and turned her bright smile on Philip.

"I think she is perfect," he said.

"Perfect for man, not perfect for mother."

"Is any daughter?"

"No..."

"You're the best, mom. We can't stay too long. Where's daddy? Do you have my passport?"

"It's expired, I think. Look in your father' top drawer. He's at your uncle's till later. You stay and eat." It was an order and having delivered it and not seen any objection within a millisecond she stood and went to the stove. "Dinner almost ready."

Ai had reached across the table to hold Philip's hand and look in his eyes. "Isn't he handsome, Momma?"

Her mother looked at Philip, shook her head slowly as she got things out of the fridge. "What did I tell you about handsome man?"

Keeping her eyes on his in frank worship, she said, "My mother always said handsome men were dangerous. Couldn't be trusted."

"Can't be trusted and if they have money they are playboy."

He couldn't help but see the logic and agree. "Good thing I'm not handsome," he said.

"You too handsome. Look at those eyes. Green eyes very bad. Too wicked."

"They are dreamy," Ai enthused, remembering how she tried to keep her eyes open and focused on them when she orgasmed.

Her mother gave a hopeless sigh.

"I'm not doing so well here, Ai," he said smiling at her, noticing the look she was giving him.

"How long you two see each other?" her mother asked. He would let Ai answer that one.

"About two weeks or so," she said.

"Why you in such hurry, Ai?" then a few Vietnamese words.

The boy bounded into the room, obviously fresh from the bathroom, the black forelocks of his hair wet from washing his face. Ai lifted his chin as he came close for inspection and she patted his head and introduced them. "This is Mr. Conners," she said.

"You can call me Philip."

"I'm Tam, but just call me Terry."

"What's Tam mean? I like it." He was trying to engage a little pride in the boy's heritage.

"Eight."

"But you're eight now, right?"

"No, I'm seven."

"But you said Tam is eight?" He imitated confusion and Tam had fun with it, understanding the word play and continuing to assert he was seven.

"But you really are eight, Tam," Ai said. "We count the year you were in momma's tummy as one year."

"Right, so soon you'll be nine, never having been Tam at all?" Philip jested, which set off a new round of playing.

They had an early dinner together sitting around the circular table with a lazy susan stocked with different kinds of fish sauce, chili and garlic pastes and one sauce he didn't recognize by taste. Philip raved about the grilled tofu, stir fried tilapia with ginger, bell peppers and mushrooms, and when her mother refilled his rice bowl he asked her how some of the other dishes were made, asking for more detail when she was dismissively brief.

"Momma, Philip's a very good cook."

"Did you teach her about flour in French toast?" he asked.

"Sure, only way to make it. How can you be good cook if you don't know that?"

"Let me make dinner for you and your husband and then you tell me if I'm a good cook."

"Hmmm... money, handsome and green eyes all together make a bad man... but if you good cook then maybe you not so bad."

"What do you say? I can come over for an early dinner this weekend and you can take it easy."

She figured it was bullshit but couldn't call him a liar. "Saturday," she said, "and no BBQ. Any man can BBQ."

"Ok... I'd love it. Any preference? Seafood, beef, lamb?"

"Anything you like. My husband love beef."

"Me too," enthused Tam.

"Ok... beef it is, and not barbecued."

They finished dinner, the rest of which was mostly Tam asking questions. The little tike was very effective at interrogating Philip. By the time Ai had filled the dishwasher and wiped the table, he'd gotten the number of employees in his company, one full-time, four part-time, the kind of car he drove, if he were divorced and if he liked the Forty-Niners. He asked for an estimated net worth and how many other girlfriends he had but Philip politely declined the information.

When they left, Mrs. Ma gave him an awkward hug, unaccustomed still to the idea that he was closer in age to her than her daughter and said that her husband would be very glad to meet him on Saturday. He shook Tam's hand and told him it was a pleasure to meet him and Ai gave them both big hugs and kisses.

On the ride back they talked about her family and he wondered, not for the first time, why she'd chosen to become a whore.

##########

The day was quickly coming to a close. Dr. K did his remaining exams with Judy and returned to his office immediately afterward.

Mei tried to stay disinterested but efficient, neither wanting to show eagerness to leave nor interest in staying. Yet at closing she found an excuse to hang around, and at 5:10, the other girls gone with only the director still there, she knocked softly at Dr. K's door.

"Come in," he said, knowing it was her. Before she could close the door, the director walked by, stuck her head in, noticed that Mei was still there, and said, "Lock up won't you, Alan? I've got Pilates tonight."

"Sure," he said, and they both looked at each other as they heard her heels reach the linoleum of the waiting room.

Mei playfully bounced her eyebrows.

"Mei Chun," he began, "why don't you just give the bolt a turn," but she was halfway down the hall before he finished.

It was a repeat of two hours before but this time it was longer and slower, more vocal as they needn't be quiet. She especially loved when he bent her over his desk and rubbed her asshole with his thumb while his cock pushed the air from her lungs.

'Daddy!'

She gave into the temptation.

'Fuck! Daddy!'

It confused her, this new emotional dimension.

'Fuck me, Daddy. Fuck, yes, fuck that daddy dick back and forth. Rub your little mèimèi's insides raw.'

She knew without a doubt that this had nothing to do with the person that was her biological father. Or rather, her feelings had everything to do with him... but not 'Him'. It was not the man who her father was that she needed, it was the man who he wasn't. And now that she was past the dolls and cuddles stage of her life, 'daddy' had to give her something else, something more powerful to fill in the voids left by a childhood absent of paternal affection. Something like an enormous penis.

'This great, big, rock hard dick!'

She wondered, as his thumb gently caressed her anus and his cockhead nudged a heretofore unknown pleasure spot that itched in a strange way, what could possibly repair her the way this was doing if she hadn't been a slut. 'Maybe that's why women look for older men? Men who can buy them handbags and dresses and new sports cars? Maybe that's why Philip spoiling me feels so good. Maybe he's my daddy but in a different way?'

Then she had a, 'duh, no shit,' moment.

'Duh! No shit, Mei. Why do you think him punishing you like that rings your bell? Why do you think you love calling him 'Master'?'

Dr. K kept rhythmically inflating her with that impossibly wide dick, tickling that spot with each stroke as she gripped the far edge of his desk and pushed her ass up as high as she could.

"Fuck me, daddy..."

The words simply could not be avoided.

"Mei."

"Please, please, Alan. For me?"

"Yes, sweetie. What do you want me to say?"

"Nothing, just don't get grossed out."

"Daddy won't mind."

"Uggghh, yesssss. Thank you. Thank you, d... d... daddy."

He grabbed her just above each elbow and pulled her torso up and off the desk. Her hands grasped her ass cheeks.

"Fuck me, daddy. Fuck your little slut daughter."

It was nearly too much for Dr. K. The sight of his, admittedly, enormous penis, heretofore his curse, burrowing into Mei's tight little naked body while she arched her ass up and spread herself for him was mesmerizing his autonomic nervous system. Her moaning so desperately and calling out to her father as though he were a ghost

"You need me, daddy, don't you, you need to fuck me? To love me? Don't you, daddy?"

He wasn't sure he was supposed to play the role or to just fuck. 'I love you, daughter,' didn't sound right and he had a daughter of his own. He was fine indulging Mei's needs but thought that was a bit too much to ask.

"What's Chinese for daughter?" he asked.

"Nǚ ér, but say xiǎo mèi or mèimèi."

He didn't know that 'xiǎo mèi' was the affectionate term a normal father would use for a girl named Mei, nor did he know that mèimèi had so many useful shades of meaning, he only realized that saying her name, Mei, twice in quick succession, was going to be a lot easier than whatever the first option she had given him was, and it would keep him from freaking out by saying 'daughter.'

"Mei, Mei."

"No... mèimèi. Faster."

"Meimei."

"Say, 'xiǎo mèi.'"

"Sheow mei."

'Close enough,' Mei thought, 'I'll teach him the tones later.'

"Now fuck me, daddy."

"Sheow mei. God how I love to do this, meimei. To sink into your light, lovely little body."

"Daddy," she whispered, more to herself than for his ears, thinking she could actually feel the healing power of her self-discovered therapy.

"You're such a good little slut for daddy. Such a good," he bumped the soft plug guarding her uterus, "good," (thump), "little," (thump), "mei-mei."

'I am a good slut,' she agreed in words she didn't have the concentration to put to voice. 'Good, (thump), little, (thump), slut. I'm such a good, (thump), little, (thump), slut. Good fucking little girl whore. Good fuck for them, good fuck for Philip, good little daughter whore for Alan.'

She arched her back even further and stretched her ass wider. 'Good, (thump), little, (thump), slut. Good, (thump), little, (thump), slut. Fuck your good, (thump), little, (thump), slut!'

Aloud, she cried, "Gàn nǐ de nǚ'ér. Gàn nǐ de nǚ'ér. Gàn wǒ!" which translated to, 'Fuck your daughter, fuck your daughter, fuck me!'

It sounded sexy to Dr. K who figured, 'Good little slut,' was working and threw in a few 'mei-mei's' and a couple of 'sheow mei's' in for good measure. He picked up the pace and chanted the grunted, "Good-little-slut. Good-little-slut," mantra as he felt himself build.

'What a view. That skin! That hair brushing her back, caught in my hands at her hips. That perfect curve to her waist. That tiny little ass under my hand, so big on her body. Her soft anus pulsing under my thumb.' And, he found that sharing her fantasy was more enjoyable than he had first imagined, if only that it underscored the age difference between the two of them.

"Wǒ kuàiyào gāocháo! Wǒ kuàiyào... gāo! Oh fuck... oh... ffffffuuu... I'm coming! DADDY!"

He'd never seen anything like it. She bent her back to escape his cock, then sank low in a downward thrust of her belly that shoved him back in to bump her plug again. Then she shivered and moaned and repeated. Four, five, then six times she impaled herself on him, then went quiet and panted, limp and exhausted.

He gently cycled to and fro while she recovered, groaned and thanked him.

"You ok?" he asked.

"Yeah... just coming to... just trying to figure this out."

"The daddy thing?"

"I'm still freaked out about it. I understand it I think but I don't wanna be a weirdo." Then it dawned on her. "You didn't come?"

"No."

"God... how hot do I have to be? I mean, that would have been too much for nearly anybody."

"Mei... I have a favor to ask," he said as she continued to drift back down from her final peak.

"Anything... fuck... anything. I'm about to lose consciousness. You can fuck me any way (she said it like a stumbling drunk would, elongated with an exaggerated high pitched wavering tone in her voice) you want to."

He pulled out, sat in his chair and asked her to finish with a blow job.

"Sure," she said brightly, "it's just about my favorite thing in the whole... wide... world."

She gave him a very nice slow suck with a little variety to keep him going but nothing to make the experience quicker than it should be. She'd learned the power of eye contact recently with Philip, never really giving a damn the dozen times she'd sucked men before, and craned her neck to connect with him, but he sat staring ahead. After about ten minutes of a sweet, loving blow job she realized the reason he wasn't looking down. 'Oh my,' she thought, 'he's looking at that photo of his wife. How sweet is that?!'

"Linda," she heard him say in the most anguished soft whisper. It affected her strangely and when she looked up again his eyes were closed but his mouth was moving, no doubt thinking her name. She took it as a signal and gently rolled his balls in a palm. She felt a stroke on her hair, not a pressing but a caress. Moments later she felt him tense slightly and start gushing into her.

"Oh yes, oh... god, dear... I love..." and in the quietest, most gentle voice, she heard him cry, "Linda!"

She couldn't help it, she started tearing. It was so beautiful it hurt. To be a proxy for his dead wife while he was one for her missing father was so unexpectedly sweet and heart-rending. When he recovered and she drained him of all she could, he lifted her chin and saw the tears on her cheeks and still welling in her eyes.

"Did you hurt yourself, Mei?"

She got up and sat in his lap, her skirt still where she threw it. "Don't be stupid, Alan. I was so touched by the way you were looking at her photo."

"You're not angry? I feel like a bastard thinking of her when you were doing that."

"See what I mean? Men are stupid. It was so romantic. Like you were loving her through me. And it seems fair, right?"

"We both needed to connect with something and as long as it didn't disturb you..."

"If me calling you 'daddy' doesn't gross you out then you calling me Linda would be awesome. I mean, just close your eyes and pretend. It's fine with me."

She stood, dressed and kissed him warmly. "Well, got to be going. Philip has something planned for Ai and me later. I think he's going to whip me again or maybe strap us to the fuck machine."

He wanted to ask who Ai was but he couldn't form any words whatsoever. She'd just been fucked twice in the last three hours and, he would say himself, they were good strong fuckings, and now she was going to go home for more.

"See you tomorrow," she said with a wink. Then, "Remember," and patted her ass twice to remind him of their signal.

He sat for the next thirty minutes looking at his wife's photo, pondering Mei Chun and wishing he kept scotch in the office.

##########

"Cowboy again," Mei groaned as the taxi slowed, the driver bent forward and down to peer out the windshield below the rearview mirror. It wasn't that she didn't like him, she just wasn't in the mood to be idolized.

"New taxi, Cowboy?" she asked as she got in.

"Been waxing 'er, Miss. Thought it was a bit shabby."

Thinking it best to be assertive right from the start, she said, "Jimmy, can you let me think for a while? Would that be ok? Just to listen to some music and get my thoughts together?"

He was disappointed, she could see in his smile, but rather than become morose he fiddled with the radio. "Can I play some soft country? Would that be ok? You might like it."

"Thanks, Cowboy. You really are a sweetheart."

Her quick smile and her profile as she looked out the back passenger side window made him think she was more beautiful than he'd ever seen her. She was simply lovely, quiet today perhaps, maybe not her usual sparkling self, but delicate and more appealing because of her distraction. She was not a woman who would have a thing in common with him but one he knew instinctively was the kind who, once she loved her man, would find a way to enjoy the things he enjoyed.

Mei worried as they approached the bridge. Concerned that what happened with Dr. K was not what she had expected it to be. It was all supposed to be about him, a quick blow job, a kiss on the cheek and a, 'just pat my butt when you want another.' However, she sensed that she had made assumptions that were not only wrong, but seriously wrong. That things had changed. First was the cock. 'Holy shit, what a cock! The way that thing felt stirring my gut like that. Holy hell that was good. I've never felt anything like it. I think I came with that first push.' But the delight she took getting nailed like that was the problem. She loved sex more than ever, and finding such an awesome tool that close at hand would be a temptation impossible to resist. And even worse was the revelation that he helped her find. She had to face it, come to terms with and understand it. She had a father fixation.