She woke before Philip and turned on her side to gaze at his sleeping form. His room, having no windows, would have been totally black if it were not for a Minnie Mouse nightlight low on the wall on her side of the bed. It emitted a lazy light that was just enough to brush his face and shoulders in a soft, golden glow.
She thought him perhaps the most handsome man yet born to woman. Not that there wasn't room for improvement. Mei was a woman and for women the prospect of a man that could not be improved was not an attractive one. 'Stronger pecs,' she thought, 'thicker biceps and chiseled abs like a washboard for my tongue; that would be nice. Maybe an inch taller, stronger glutes and thighs would be great.'
Still he was breathtakingly handsome and so... she searched for the right word... 'virile. He's distilled masculinity.
'He's strong but so tender, rich but no one would ever know it. Humble,' she realized. 'He's humble but has every right to be a complete domineering prick. I'd still love him if he were but he's not, which just takes that masculinity thing to a whole higher level of hot.
'What have I been missing all these years?' It was as if he were of a different species of male. 'All those other guys were like cardboard cutouts compared to Hercules. I guess it's love.'
She ruminated on the changes she'd been through. 'He really reached inside me and, like, injected a living, smoldering lump of love into the cold dead heart I used to have. Then he gently blew on the tiny embers. Now I really feel that hot lump of love for him right above my stomach.
'If I were still Jenny I would hate him. I'd stick my thumb in his eye and gouge it out. But the way he just took me!' She sighed and swooned a bit at the memory of him pushing her over the arm of the couch, holding her wrists together behind her back with one hand and pulling her hair with the other. He had fucked her ass without mercy and it was the hottest thing she'd ever had happen to her. She had had no idea of the power of submission. How it awoke a totally new level of hornyness within her. 'Giving in is the best thing he has shown me.'
'That stupid bitch,' she thought about her old self, 'glad she's gone.'
She watched his chest rise and fall. His mouth was open and a light snore occasionally escaped from his beautiful lips. She felt like letting her fingertip take a ride on the curve of his nose. She didn't know if he snored badly at night as she had been so thoroughly exhausted by him that she'd slept like a corpse each of the four nights in his bed.
'Holy shit!' she realized with a start, 'It's only been four nights.'
Head propped on her elbow she contemplated further. He didn't look like a multimillionaire. They were supposed to look like Larry Ellison or the late Steve Jobs and on one level she knew Philip looked rather unremarkable, despite being the most handsome man she had ever known. He wasn't gorgeous in the George Cloony way, you couldn't trust perfection, but he had a familiar 'boy next door' quality, a bit of youth still in his face. She thought of Bobby Flay on the Food Channel again. They both had that cute mischievous smile and unassuming personality. He wasn't all cute, for sure. When he had that murderous look in those fearsome green eyes there wasn't a trace of cute but now he looked peaceful and vulnerable and all hers.
She gently pulled the light blanket off of his body and sighed as she beheld his penis; just the sight of it started her lust simmering. For five minutes she closely inspected it, insofar as the dim light would allow. It seemed normal enough, a bit on the big side but she'd seen her share of those and this one didn't look special. It didn't glow gold or throb with ethereal light. It was just a dormant, flaccid penis resting on his thigh. How then did he make it do such incredible things? Why was this cock able to push her to some crazy place where she lost her mind?
She looked into her future as she gazed at his cock. 'I'll be his, waking for him every morning like this to get his coffee. I'll be his wife and the mother of his kids and I'll bring in more and more girls to keep this thing happy. It's the least I can do.'
She considered the dangers of too many women but thought, 'If I'm the one setting him up with all the girls he can stand then he'd never replace me. I mean, what could be better than a wife that lines up pussy for a guy? 'Hi honey, I found a cute college cheerleader for you to fuck tonight.' What guy could complain about that? And I'll be so nice and good and obedient. We'll get a maid or something or maybe I'll continue to like cleaning for him myself?'
Then she came back to the here and now, rolled on her back to stare at the exposed ceiling trusses and let her mind drift. She considered blowing him, wondering if he would appreciate being woken a few minutes early that way. She certainly wanted the gratification of making his cock grow hard in her mouth, it never failed to make her feel desired and sexy. She pulled at her nipples distractedly as she imagined his moans and the texture of is hard wet skin sliding to the back of her throat. 'I can't believe I used to hate it. Like, totally hate it. What an idiot.' Now that it was Philip's cock that gushed that white goo in her mouth she loved it. 'Can't believe I hated cum either. What was Jenny thinking?'
She found that she was masturbating, her right index and middle fingers squeezed her clit sheath and pushed up and down. 'How did I deserve a man like this? Such a goddamn hunk of man like Philip?'
Had she been a cat she would have woken him with sounds of her purring.
She denied herself an orgasm but continued to enjoy her fingers during more pleasant daydreaming, mostly of how she could present herself to him in various tied positions. In the end she nixed the idea of a blow job because if she didn't move soon she'd miss delivering his morning coffee before his alarm woke him. So she got up to make it, set it on his nightstand and got ready for her day at the center.
##########
Mid-morning found Philip making lasagna. He had several recipes he used but he felt like making his spicy version. He was in that kind of mood.
At first he denied it to himself, that nagging feeling. 'I'm not nervous,' he said, letting his inner voice do the talking. Yet he knew it was self-deception. He stopped ladling on the sauce, sat on the stool at the counter and confronted himself. He was nervous at Ai's visit, it was a fact. He felt the adrenaline, had cold hands and the disturbing feeling in his stomach. 'But why?' He had all he wanted in Mei. Beauty, an honest charm, devotion, a playful sassiness, youth and a blow job that boiled his blood, what more could a man want? He loved Mei or he had never loved anyone in his life.
He calmed down and analyzed his feelings. It wasn't the prospect of sex with Ai or watching her on the machine that had him keyed up, so he sought further. Was it her youth and exuberance? She was fun to be with, bright and effervescent, more so than Mei, that was true enough. He didn't want to compare but thought it was inevitable, and why not?
Perhaps it was her frank interest in him that made him want to see her. Perhaps Mei was right, he should have more than one. He certainly did have the resources, he felt he had the libido and had the time to give. He could always scale back work.
Then he thought about the morality of loving two women. He'd been loose when it came to respecting people's privacy, that was true, however it was mostly voyeuristic curiosity. He'd only stepped over the line again recently, blackmailing Mei and digging into Ai's private life. He was going to put that behind him and grow up. But the two women thing had him, momentarily, concerned. 'It can't be immoral if she's encouraging me, can it?'
He decided it wasn't immoral, as he knew he would, and with that formality out of the way he returned to thinking about the young prostitute.
'Why am I nervous? What is so special about this girl?' No answer came no matter how many times he queried his logical mind. The answer, or one answer, came when he listened to his unreasoning side. He thought of her radiant smile that communicated so much joy and accepted that he simply liked her in a straightforward way and he wanted her to be around. Chatting with her was fun, working on the machine had been engaging and delightful. It really was just that basic. He'd developed a connection with her and wanted that connection to deepen.
A few minutes later, as he was putting the last layer of sauce over the noodles, he heard the downstairs doorbell ring and went down to get her.
"Hello, Ai," he said holding the door open for her and felt the warmth in his own smile.
"Hiya," she responded, grabbed his bicep and reached her chin up for a friend's kiss on the cheek. He leant down to receive it. As she bounded up the stairs in front of him he saw her ass was so toned that it didn't jiggle in her jeans.
They entered, he got her a bottled water and she sat at the counter as he sprinkled on the last layer of cheese.
"So you cook?"
"Yeah, it's one of my passions. You like to eat?"
"Who doesn't? I love lasagna."
"Want to stay for lunch?"
"Sure."
"Let me get this in the oven then I'll take you downstairs."
"Ok." She paused to let the small talk end gracefully then said, "That video!"
"Yeah?"
