Worship Pt. 01

WORSHIP

She will be home soon from her run. It's hot out today, she will come back all pink of face and shining with her fresh young sweat.

My heart races slightly at the thought, despite myself I lick my tongue in anticipation.

I will do my duty as always. I will be a good Chinese girl.

It wasn't always this way. I didn't always wait eagerly to lick the sweat from every inch of my roommate's body. I'm not a lesbian! I'm not even bi.

I just worship Emily, my beautiful White Goddess.

It was simple chance that brought us together. A random assignment of college roommates, nothing more. A different random assignment and I wouldn't be shamelessly and lovingly slobbering on another girl's asshole every day.

I was already in our room when we met. I remember it so well, every moment, every word in the day that changed my life.

That was a warm day too. One moment I am alone thinking about unpacking, the next she is just there.

Let me tell you about Emily. Did she saunter into the room like she owned it already? Would I say she glides in? What is the word that properly describes the effortless grace that some of these privileged white bitches waltz about with?

I disliked her immediately on that day. I admit it. I own my jealousy. My envy. My awe.

Oh yes I am most certainly in awe of Emily Lauren Parkinson. That's her name. Of course it is. A name whiter than she is! I hated her already. Her and all her friends that I immediately conjure up in my mind. They will have names like Madison and Sydney and Emma and Grace. They will have beautiful white teeth just like she does and long, long legs and tall tanned footballer boyfriends. They will be everything that I am not.

Emily Lauren Parkinson is sickeningly perfect. It is clear from the outset. She is so, so American, with big American confidence and big American hair, long flowing beautiful curly blonde tresses that move with all the confidence she does and highlight her perfect beautiful American face. A cute adorable little slightly turned up nose, a hint of freckles, big bright blue eyes that she is long practised in enchanting and teasing and charming with. You know the type.

I feel like she blocks out the sun, or is the sun, and I am left in the shade. Why couldn't I be five foot ten and have her long, gorgeous legs that go on for miles and make me, all of just five feet high, feel a midget? Why did I have to get my tiny little Chinese tits and not those perky, deliciously formed and well developed plump breasts threatening to break out of her top on this sunny day?

Emily Lauren Parkinson, I hate you. I hate all your lush curves, I hate your beautiful legs, your amazing tits, your American ass, honed to perfection by your years of working out and yoga, and now in all its heart shaped glory bulging in those tiny shorts. I hate your hips and your hair and your dazzling smile, your elegant voice and your flat stomach and your beautiful belly button that of course you also needed to be showing off today as well.

Emily Lauren Parkinson, you are a fucking nightmare and without even saying a word you make me feel like a tiny undeveloped ugly gnomechild.

I hated you right away.

I hated too that you made me stop hating you.

You can't hate the sun that surrounds you and illuminates your life. You can't hate effortless charm and beauty.

You can't keep hating the Goddess.

In the end you hold the Goddess in awe and you come to worship Her.

*****

How did it begin? I didn't just start out begging to lick her pussy you know.

Emily just has this way. I can't describe it accurately.

She is friendly. She is always nice to me. I can't say she ever treated me badly. I can't say she let me in either, nor did she keep me out exactly. Lots of things are unspoken. She never made me feel bad apart from her existing in all her disgusting perfection, and I suppose even that's not her fault. When it comes down to it a Goddess has a very high opinion of herself, even if it's never spoken out loud.

E is for Emily, E is for Entitled. Emily was raised to be pleasant and polite and she is. She would never be prejudiced or unkind, she would find that common and crass, and beneath her. She never quite treated me like an equal, but then Emily while she would never say it or admit it never really treats anyone like an equal. I don't resent that. Truth be told, I expect no differently. I don't have her beauty, her confidence and her gracefulness. I do feel clumsy and ugly beside her. We're not equals.

So Emily and I shared our room together. We weren't friends per se, she had Madison and Sydney and Emma and Grace or whatever the names of her cronies are for that, but we were friendly. She charmed me out of my initial dislike and we got along well enough, in the way that roommates do.

Now I'm a modest asian girl. I dress modestly and I don't like to expose myself. Basically I'm pretty shy and I'm self conscious about my flat skinny body, even more so in comparison to Emily.

Emily is the opposite. She's not at all self conscious and is very comfortable getting out and about in skimpy outfits that would have my father disown me. When the sun is out the tops are low cut and the shorts are tiny and tight.

Of course the boys are always looking, she pays this no mind, it's so common in her life she barely even registers it now. Attention is just part of being Emily, ever present so not worth notice. I look too, in both admiration and awe at this creature so beautiful, so full of life, so radiant and comfortable in her magnificent young womanhood.

It's hard not to look when you share a room. There's Emily in her Lululemon doing yoga on our floor, bent over in downward dog, perfect ass pointing up high, those tight tight leggings clinging like a second skin to that heavenly bottom. There's Emily, legs apart, lying on her stomach on her bed in her underwear reading a textbook. There's Emily coming out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around her.

And why not? We're two straight girls who live together and she's just being comfortable in her own home, oblivious in her typical Emilyness that I might even notice or be affected. That I might catch myself staring at her, my head full of both pity for myself that I'm nothing like her, and a sense of almost wonder that such a being exists. That I might sit in the chair in the room that gives me the perfect view of her downward dog ass.

I'm not lesbian. I'm not into girls. I don't look at girls' asses.

I just look at Emily.

I've seen so much of her. I've studied her thighs, her belly, her bottom, her cleavage. I gaze with rapt attention into her sapphire eyes when she is speaking to me. I look and I mentally compare myself to her and then I look back some more, lost in her feminine perfection.

I try to be discreet about it, but I needn't bother as she doesn't even notice!

I do so many things for Emily. I want to please her. I want her to be my friend. I clean the room. I cook for her. I get the groceries. She accepts all I do for her with the same friendly good natured politeness that she treats everybody else. She does nothing in return.

She smiles a lot. She has so many smiles. Laughing smiles. Charming smiles. Knowing smiles. Mischievous smiles.

It is with a knowing enigmatic smile that she first says out of the blue what changed everything and set us on our path.

"You like to look at me"

I am struck dumb. Seems she has noticed all along!

I deny it. "What? I don't know what you mean."

Another smile, one of her disarming charming ones.

"Oh, yes you do. You love looking at me. You look at me more than most boys!"

There is no judgement in her words, no challenge, it's an observation not a criticism.

My heart is pounding.

Another smile.

"It's fine. I don't mind. I like being looked at. I like it when you look at me. I want you to look at me."

"I don't know what to say."

"You say you will."

There is a pause. Part of me feels a trap is being set.

"Well?"

"I will look at you."

"Good. I'm going to do my yoga now. Sit in your chair, the one you like when you watch my ass."

*****

Days pass. Our routine hasn't changed but something has. She's very obviously aware of my looks now, she smiles every time she catches me looking which she often does.

Self conscious and shy about being found out I try to stop.

We are both sitting on the couch watching a show we're streaming. She is wearing a pair of really tight, really short shorts and a halter top.

"You've not been looking at me. You're being weird today. I don't like it. Just be normal."

"I shouldn't do it. I'm sorry."

"Oh stop it. I like it. You like it. Here, look at my legs."

With that she swung her legs around and draped them over my lap.

I am stunned!

"I've got great legs. You know that, you're always looking at them so look. While you're at it, you could make yourself useful and massage my feet. I'd like that while we watch."

"What???"

"Feet. Massage. Chop chop!"

She wiggles her toes beckoningly. Another smile.

I am too shy to say no. That's not quite true. I don't want to say no. I don't want to say anything at all!

So I laid my hands on the holy flesh of the White Goddess for the first time, and how I massaged her, shyly at first and then egged on by her encouraging murmurs of approval, I rubbed her feet for what felt like ages.

I don't remember what happened in the show or even what it was.

*****

After that night it was just a thing we did. Somehow it has become an expectation, just another one of her many entitlements from being Emily. The Chinese girl massages the white girl's feet whenever the white girl feels like it, which is often. Her feet will just appear in my lap without a word and I do my part.

It's demeaning of course, especially because there is nothing reciprocal in it. Emily Lauren Parkinson certainly isn't going to lower herself to rub my little yellow feet. There's an unspoken pecking order that's always been there between us.

I used to wish I didn't enjoy it or at least that she didn't know I did. Always her knowing self satisfied smile, her ability to see right through me.

Before long the expectations grew. Chinese girls give good neck massages too, don't you know? It turns out Chinese girls are also great for brushing white girls' hair every day. Chinese girls have so many uses. We're very convenient! We're great! Great at washing Emily's dishes. Great at making her lunches. The last two she didn't even ask for. I just started doing them. It just somehow seems right.

I want to please her. I like doing things for her.

Her life should be easy. It mostly is. Only study and Dave darken her door.

Dave is her boyfriend. He's the type of boyfriend you would expect a girl like Emily to have. Dave is tall, Dave is blonde, Dave is good looking. Dave is a footballer. Dave is a medical student like both of us, preppy and all American and arrogant.

I hate Dave. Dave treats her poorly. Dave is a dick. Dave and her are on their last legs and Dave probably isn't going to be on the scene much longer.

Good. She could do so much better.

Anyway I like to do little things for her wherever I can.

*****

I am kneeling on the floor while she is on the couch. I am moisturising her thighs. I do this for her every day now, rubbing the lotion into her legs. It was a natural progression from foot massages to massaging her legs to now this. Her skin is so soft and smooth in my hands, I marvel at it every time. I feel privileged being allowed to do this. I'm special.

"God, you're worse than a guy!" She has detected my apparently 'not as surreptitious as I thought' glances up her short skirt.

She chuckles. She is amused.

"Worse than a guy! Perving at my panties!"

Panties. I hate that word. It just sounds so dirty, so sexual, so wrong. She uses it all the time to tease me, knowing I hate it. She makes me say it too now. Why can't she just say underwear instead?

Perving. She likes to say that too.

I am red with embarrassment, my cheeks are burning hotly. I am discovered. I was indeed as she says trying to perve at her panties. It sounds so lewd.

I couldn't help myself though. I only got glimpses because her thighs are mostly closed but I know they are white and lacy.

I know I shouldn't look there. It's so rude, so much worse than just watching her around our room. The flashes of white just drew my eyes there.

I am cringing in shame.

Another chuckle.

Her thighs part slightly more.

"You want to look up my skirt don't you? Just say it."

I am beaten, defeated. I want to burst into tears. I have no defence.

I can barely answer, quiet as a mouse I whimper barely audibly... "Yes..."

It is true and I am so ashamed.

"Good. Look"

There is amusement in her voice. Acceptance too. There is no anger in her.

Her thighs part more again.

"Look."

I raise my eyes. I look. I can see more of her panties now. It's more than a momentary glimpse like before.

I am kneeling on the floor before this white girl and she knows I am looking up between her legs. They are still more closed than not but just the idea that she knows where my eyes are fills me with humiliation. Not just humiliation. I don't want to admit to myself what I feel.

"You like looking at me?"

"Yes"

Her thighs part a fraction wider. I raise my eyes to her face and see a triumphant smile.

"You want to see my panties tonight don't you?"

"Yes..." I whisper.

Wider again. It is a game with rewards for honesty.

"You want me to spread my legs wide for you don't you?"

"Yes..."

Wider. Oh this is so tantalising. Yes, yes, yes, I want to see you open legged damn you. I want to stare between your perfect legs. I want to stare at those sexy little panties that are something I could never wear, and never fill so well.

I am still cringing in shame but every widening of her thighs makes my heart pound faster. Between my own legs my own pussy is overheated and soaking wet. I can feel it. Oh why do you have this effect on me?

"You want to see my cunt don't you?"

What? No! Of course I don't want to see that!

"No!! No I don't!"

Her thighs slam tightly shut.

"Go to bed."

The game is over.

I look at her face, confused.

"I'm not mad. I just don't like lies. Go to bed. Maybe we'll play another time."

I go to bed but I can't sleep. My mind is too busy. I am ashamed. I am also angry with myself. I feel I let her down. I just couldn't say it.

I just couldn't say the truth. The truth is I'm not really that interested in her panties themselves.

The truth is I want to see what's in them.

She's right. She's always right.

I want to see Emily Lauren Parkinson's cunt.

*****

I don't like my own cunt. Why do I even call it that? I never used to ever use that word before I met Emily! It's so vulgar, so blunt. It amuses her to make me say it. She laughs like it's the funniest thing when I say it, red faced and whispering.

My cunt is brown, brown lips with an almost dark red interior. I don't like my lips. They look ugly. I bet Emily has a pretty little cunt, I bet it's pink and neat with tidy pretty lips. It would figure.

I've never seen it though. Never seen her without a bra and panties.

Ugh. Why am I thinking about my roommate's cunt again?

You know that feeling when there is something on your mind and you try to block the thought and it makes it impossible not to think about it?

Emily's pretty little cunt hidden away from my dirty perving eyes.

Try not to think about it.

I bet it's waxed.

*****

We don't play the 'spread the legs wider' game again. It was weird at first the next time I moisturised her legs. I remember what happened last time and I am ashamed anew.

I still peek up her skirt furtively, shyly. I just can't help it.

She smiles again when she catches me which of course she does. She's not mad, she continues the story of her day and asks me about mine. She's good like that when she wants to be, one of her gifts, she talks and talks and then suddenly my awkwardness is gone and we are two girls talking naturally as if nothing strange ever happened. Just me, a little asian girl peeking between my beautiful white roommate's legs and her simple acceptance of this as normal.

But she doesn't spread her thighs for me today. She's not playing, she's just getting her legs moisturised because that's what I do. Just Emily getting one of her entitlements and my eyes between her legs nothing more than the homage she receives as her due.

They are black and tiny from the little glimpses I have.

Oh God.

Don't think about what they contain.

Why couldn't I just have been honest and said yes I want to see it!

How far would that game have gone? Would she have ended up showing me?

Oh God.

In bed that night I want to cum so badly. Secretly under the cover my fingers are busy, knowing that she is only a few feet away adds to my excitement. My fingers work deep within me, sliding in my wetness. I rub my juices over my swollen clit.

Keep it down Annie, keep it down I tell myself. She mustn't know. Be as quiet as a mouse, and I am.

I have to stop before I cum. I'm not a girl who could ever cum quietly. I'm a noisy grunter.

I wonder what Emily sounds like when she cums. I bet it's ladylike.

Rub. Stop before I cum. Be restless. Rub. Stop before I cum. Be even more restless.

It's a long night.

*****

They are white again the next night. Her panties under her skirt I mean.

I'll be doing all of Emily's clothes washing and ironing from now on, she announced tonight. I don't demur. It makes sense. I do everything else.

"It will be good for you. Washing my panties I mean. You'll be able to smell them."

"Oh that's so gross. Yuk! Why would you even say that?"

"Suit yourself".

I end my night in the bathroom with my face buried in today's lacy pair. They are still warm. I am shaking. Her scent is in my nostrils, fresh, heady, feminine musk. Her smell is overpowering to me. Stop it, I tell myself. This is so wrong. It's just fucked up. My nostrils quiver.

I bury my face again. Breathe. Oh God.

There is something very wrong with me.

Once more, just once more. Breathe in. Oh God.

I come out of the bathroom, my face flushed red.

"All good?" she asks.

"Yes. I'm good."

"You're so funny!", she laughs.

*****

It's a beautiful sunny day and she is going rollerblading down along the beach today in her pretty little red bikini.

"Work it in good. I'll be out quite a while and I don't want to get burnt. Don't be stingy with the sunscreen."

Chinese girls are good for applying sunscreen to white girls. It's another new duty for me apparently, starting today.

"Don't miss anywhere, no gaps under the straps. Is it easier if I just take this off?" She gestures at the bikini top.

My mouth is dry. Yes it would probably be a bit easier I say. My pulse is quickening.

It is nothing to her to drop her top to the floor and stand there in just her bottoms in front of me. It is everything to me though. A thousand times I have seen these breasts straining against her top, perved yes perved like a teenage boy down her low cut blouse. A thousand times they have drawn my eyes and my envy compared to my own poor little titlings.

I have never fully seen their naked splendour until now though. Oh oh Emily Lauren Parkinson with your proud, plump, perky and perfect tits. California's Venus stands before me. Not a sag or stretch mark, not a blemish anywhere. Her nipples are so unlike mine, so light and pink and different to my dark brown. You could be a model I think, a porn star, a movie star even, you could be...

"Is there any danger of you starting soon?" she says with her amused smile.