From Jenny To Mei Ch 19

A great many thanks to Vanessa Nelson, GTDaytona and Mr. Fox for their guidance and editing!

*****

The room had a name — the Couple's Harmony Spa Suite — and it was beautiful, with just the kind of classy touches Karla loved. The two massage rooms she worked in on a daily basis were nice, with soft lighting and big enough for the purpose, but this space was an immersion in luxury. The room was large, the walls wainscotted in dark wood, the heavy massage tables had custom fitted sheets with elaborate embroidered covers, the foot bolsters were cylindrical and wrapped in gold fabric with braided gold silk cord as a piping around the seam.

The polite attendant showed them the wardrobes in which hung optional robes. She then turned down the sheets on the massage tables and left them to undress.

When the door closed Karla quickly removed her turtleneck and jeans, more concerned with possible marks left by Mei than leering looks from Philip. Still she was a bit nervous. She had great confidence in the fitness of her body, it was her feelings about Philip she hoped were not showing.

At first she had loathed him like licorice. The thought that a man would style himself as someone's master was revolting and told her all she needed to know. However, just as a disgusting cough syrup had to be swallowed to be effective, she had to stomach his influence over Mei Chun.

And then she became even more beholden to him when he saved her from Kenisha's betrayal and did it with an easy boldness that had left her no choice but be impressed. Yet even after that she didn't truly trust him. She thought of him as an impediment to becoming more familiar and intimate with Mei Chun.

Then things had changed, or rather, her understanding of Philip had. It had happened last night. In a moment of blazing revelation his nature was made obvious to her. It came when she and Mei, bound and gagged, were wrapped together over that crazy buzzing wand, their juices commingling on the hard rubber joy stick, their belly buttons pressing together, their hips pushing it against each other's sodden sex, that she understood: Philip was exactly what Mei needed. And rather than a barrier she saw him as a facilitator. Leaving them alone had allowed Mei to reveal her flawed psyche without his interference or intervention. For that alone she was appreciative but he had offered more.

She thought back to his pre-sex lecture. "Love is doing what's best, even if you recoil at the duty." She didn't understand why that phrase stood out from last night. Firstly, because what she had done to Mei had been the most confusing sexual episode of her life. Then, when Mei had her chance at domination, she had Otto fuck her into the terra incognita of Inner Catatonia, well past the point of useful thought. It was only this morning and at lunch when she began to figure it all out. His focus was on helping Mei. She wasn't quite sure how but Mei needed what he gave her. Not just the kink either, she needed a hero, and Philip, she now knew, was, indeed, heroic.

With this new attitude she stepped over to help him off with his blue button down shirt. In just her bra and a towel loosely around her waist she let her heals hit the carpet with enough force to make her breasts jiggle.

She brushed his hands away. "I like undressing a man," she said.

"I like being undressed."

Making note of his gaze fixed upon her eyes, she said, "Look at them."

He did. "I told you I do stupid things when I come under their influence."

"They are stupefying, if I say so myself."

"Perfect," he agreed.

"You're looking at a bra." She said the next phrase with her head down slightly but her eyes lifted to his. "I'm always naked for a massage."

"Better that way."

"Much. Unsnap me?"

He put his warm hands on her ribs and she felt her bones soften at his touch. Moments later she felt the constriction ease and her breast's weight as they hung before her.

"I've always liked them. I know... " she tilted her head slightly and licked her bottom lip with concentration focused on one of his buttons, "... I'm supposed to be modest but I think they are my best feature."

He slowly used one fingertip on each shoulder to pull the straps off and down her arms. She was looking up at his eyes as he ogled her cleavage. She felt her areoles pucker sensing the admiration in his gaze.

"Feeling stupid, Philip?" She giggled at his entranced stare.

"Huh? Who?" he kidded, pretending to be transfixed, his mouth agape and eyes locked on her nipples. He shook his head in a display of shaking off his trance and said, "Some of the finest examples of the mammary gland I've ever encountered but I'm going to reserve final judgement as to your best feature."

It earned him the sly, sexy smile he'd hoped to inspire and she kept glancing up from his shirt into his eyes as she finished unbuttoning him.

Philip removed his pants, retaining his boxers and slid under the thin blanket just as a knock on the door signaled the beginning of the massage.

Two ladies, reluctantly but firmly in middle age, one a small Thai woman and the other of indeterminate European heritage, came in and introduced themselves as Mali and Liz. They asked about preferences, indicating that Mali specialized in, obviously, Thai massage and Liz did the more conventional light oil or deep tissue massage. Karla quickly chose Mali which left Philip to take Liz.

After the first touches were enjoyed in silence Philip said, "Must feel nice to get a massage for a change, Karla."

"Nothing I like better."

"What a lucky man Tim is," he said, his sincerity evident in his tone of voice. "I mean, not only are you gorgeous, and that hair of yours is, I don't know, it gives you this vixen like look, really, the same color as a fox's fur. So not only are you spectacular to look at... really, those breasts of yours — thanks for the preview — they're C cup right?"

"Yeah, 34C."

"And so firm."

"Yeah, he says they're on springs."

The two ladies, each rubbing a neck, looked at each other with significance.

"But he gets a massage whenever he wants."

"Well, not whenever. I mean I'm tired sometimes but I do it for him once a week at least."

"And does he do you?"

"He tries, god bless him, but he's kinda clumsy."

Philip thought about it for a second. If a guy couldn't pay attention to a woman like Karla, couldn't take the time or the care to rub her body and do it well then he could not see having much in common with him.

"Is he self-centered? I mean when I get you in bed I'm going to take hours with you and that includes the best massage I can do."

Four middle aged eyebrows raised in surprise and further looks of bemusement were exchanged between the masseuses.

"You're sweet, Philip. I thought you were a monster. Really, when Mei told me of the whipping and you making her call you master I just hated you..."

"I never told her to..."

"Oh really? That is so like her. Anyway, I've changed my opinion. Now I think you're a sweetheart. I'm so glad Mei's your slave."

Mali and Liz had been doing tandem massages like this for years, usually older couples or mothers and daughters before a wedding or the like, but this was the strangest conversation they'd ever heard.

"So where do you want to open a spa?"

"Oh, I dunno."

"Downtown or in the suburbs?"

"Well, while I'm fantasizing it might as well be in some upper class neighborhood like Pacific Heights."

"I know a commercial real estate woman."

"Oh," she said, thinking the comment a bit odd, not realizing what he was implying.

"Why don't you see her tomorrow or Wednesday."

She lifted her head from the cushion and looked over toward him, his face still in the rest. "Why would I do that?"

He heard the change in the volume of her voice and knew she was looking. He lifted his head to look at her, "So you can start looking for a place."

It didn't hit her right away. Things that irrevocably change one's life take a heartbeat or two to register.

"Oh my god," she pushed up a bit, her breasts dangling spectacularly beneath her, pink nipples brushing the terry cloth sheet covering the table. "You are kidding!? Tell me you're kidding."

"Of course not, Karla. Let's be partners."

She hopped up on her knees, Mali stepping back in surprise, "You're kidding!?" He smiled and she hopped off the table, her nakedness not even a thought. She crouched before him and took his face in her hands and kissed him so hard he felt she would press his lips to pulp.

"Jesus, Philip, do you mean it?"

"Sure I do."

"Oh my god!"

"Sixty - forty, with you as the majority owner. Sound good?"

"Oh my god," she couldn't find an original expression of delight and surprise.

"I'll finance and you do all the work, make the decisions."

"But..."

"I've gone into business with Ai and I want you to have what you want."

Her heart was about to break, tears were already welling in her eyes and she decided at that instant that, Tim or no Tim, Philip was a man she had to have.

"I don't know what to say. I mean... it's been my dream for so long."

"You could get space in the same building as the gym. All of your clients would be able to find you just a few floors away. And you could build it out with a pool or sauna, or whatever you wanted."

"I... I..."

This is what he loved. The moment of astounded gratitude - of overwhelmed excitement. This was what his father's money was for; making people happy and changing lives in a very personal way. Fuck big houses in pretentious neighborhoods. Screw big cars and Armani suits. This was value he could enjoy. And who knew, maybe the businesses wouldn't lose too much money.

"I can't tell you how much this means to me, Philip. Oh my god, it's going to be so great. I've always, I mean, since my first year in college..." She stood, gazed into the distance, put a hand gingerly on his head and distractedly caressed his hair.

He looked longingly at her pussy, just at eye level, and thought of how sweetly delicate that skin was and how a woman was life's greatest treasure. "You'll be fabulous, Karla. Just be careful with the clients, ok. No sexual harassment lawsuits."

"Right, she said, still distractedly petting his hair, "No, that won't happen again. Mei was special I just couldn't stop staring at her wet lips and my fingers just found their way inside her."

Liz, the older white lady, gasped in shock.

"Oh," Karla said to her, "don't worry. I'm bi." As though that would certainly explain things.

"Yes, ma'am," she said and returned to massaging Philip.

"She won't bite, Liz."

"Thanks," she said, not knowing what else to say.

"So in the same building huh? Wow that would take balls."

"Got to have 'em to win in business."

"Can we do it first class?"

"Of course, have to. Got to do it right but make sure it's a good value. Hire the best, like Liz and Bali here."

"Mali," he heard over his shoulder. "Right, sorry, Mali."

Karla got back on the table and settled down but never stopped thinking of Philip's offer. As the massage progressed she continued to talk with Philip about the spa and about Ai's new business, at one point saying, "So you think a lot of people want a fuck machine?"

Mali knew her English wasn't great but her listening was a lot better than her speaking and could have sworn she heard her correctly. The odd look from her partner confirmed that she heard it too.

"It's a big world Karla, lots of people have money and lots of people like sex, some with a twist. You found that out for yourself last night. It was good, right?"

"So unbelievable. Mei counted, it was, like, twelve times in half an hour." Karla didn't want to reveal yet how she had been subjected to Mei's kinky abuse, not quite sure yet if she liked it or not.

"Tim ever do that for you?"

"Are you kidding? Never even twice. But Mei has told me about you. I mean fifty in an hour Philip? Don't you think that's just showing off?"

"Running up the score? Yeah, maybe a bit," he chuckled, "but I just couldn't stop. It was really a thing of beauty."

The ladies had passed feeling uncomfortable, they were at the fascination stage. Just wondering what this couple were going to say next but professional decorum forbade them from joining in the discussion, no matter how they might want clarification on a point or two.

Their back and feet were finally done and he was asked to turn over. Liz started on his hands. A few moments after that Karla was asked to do likewise.

"It must be a nice job," he observed.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Massaging people. I mean you get to make people feel good. Must be gratifying."

"Yeah," Karla said.

"How do you like it, Liz?"

The older lady, probably early fifties, Philip thought, said, "I do like that part a lot. That's why I started all those years ago. I just wish it wasn't so hard on my wrists."

"And thumbs," Mali said.

The rest of the massage turned into a chat, mostly among the women, about massage and how they got into it.

Philip made a vague reference to 'a friend' and her work as a prostitute and how it had certain similarities to massage, "Just taken to its logical conclusion."

At first they didn't say anything until Mali said, "Some good Thai friends do that kind of massage when they younger."

Liz said she had no objections, "In fact I could tell you tales about a girl so bold you'd grow a tail," but left it at that.

The hour ended in a very friendly way, with an eye-raising tip and a promise that they would return.

While dressing he noticed a pair of texts from Mei and Ai, both with the same phrase. "I love her!" They must have sent it together as they came in in the same minute.

##########

Mrs. Boyd was a wonder. Judy resented her by lunch time but Carol and Samantha admired a pro when they saw one. She was calm, competent and supremely efficient. Every office has its quirks. Something done as an expedient to shave off a step or two and Mrs. Boyd had no problem with those, like setting the files on a typing table for a moment or two until four or five of them accumulated before filing them away. What she could not bear was the hand written names on the file tabs. She knew her place, knew at most she would be here a day or two but this kind of breach just could not be tolerated.

"Is there a typewriter in the office?" she asked Samantha.

"Yes, Dr. K has one but ours broke six months ago and we started writing the names carefully on the tabs." She said 'carefully' as a defense against her judgment. She knew they should have gotten it fixed. She should have pressed the director and insisted. It was her duty to do so and she felt guilty but Judy had been so relieved and Carol didn't object until later. It certainly made it easier and after a couple of days she forgot about it. It was government work after all.

"It may have started out carefully but look at this one. Is it Mendiola or Mendoza!?"

Judy looked at the file. "That's Hernandez."

"This just won't do," she said and got up and found the director. She asked for permission to borrow the typewriter and asked if she would be able to spend the afternoon retyping the handwritten labels. The director agreed, thinking it would be better for her to do something menial and it was a good idea, noticing she couldn't read the example file Mrs. Boyd had brought.

"It will take a month to retype them all. But you can if you want. Use Dr. K's office, he's out for the day.

"A day or two perhaps and since I don't know if I am returning it may be a project I can't finish but I might as well begin." And so she did with stack after stack of the most recent files on Dr. K's desk.

##########

Sarah enjoyed her cigarettes. They were one of life's genuine pleasures. Like coffee, a good book or soak in the tub they helped her connect to life. Sometimes during her smoke breaks at the back of the building she would sit on an old plastic kids sized chair, close her eyes and anchor her wandering spirit to the earth by listening to the rain. She would imagine she was back in Bali with Mitch when they had been caught in an afternoon deluge in the monkey forest near Ubud. It was two years ago, no it was three years ago, the first month they had been dating.

It was so warm and beautiful in that cathedral of green; the trees so tall and the smell of dampening earth around them. He had enveloped her in his warmth and sheltered them under his shirt, stripped from his back and held aloft. His wet, well muscled chest was so beautiful as was his hair, short and spiky like a Marine officer's.

She thought then, huddled under his upraised arms, grateful for his warmth, looking for monkeys they heard above but never saw, that he would leave her. He would find out someday and he would see that the woman he loved had been a myth and the person he was with was just a whore.

'God damn him,' she thought as she carefully slid the butt into a diet Sprite can she left in the corner near the hinges of the thick metal door. 'Damn his fear.'

She tried to explain why she had been a hooker, how it was a means to an end, but he couldn't see it. 'And maybe he was right. I'm a whore and once a whore, always...'

But Philip had understood. He really did, either that or he didn't care enough about her to give a damn. And while she took out another Marlboro Light King 100 and lit up she thought carefully.

Thinking was part of Sarah's nature. She had always heard it, that fucking, 'You think too much,' line her friends hit her with. She resented the observation that was really a poorly disguised insult. 'What the fuck does that mean anyway?' she would ask herself. 'How is it possible that it would occur to someone to say it? How does one think too much?'

But in the end she decided that the comment was a mark of stupidity made by people who didn't think at all and were proud of it. Prideful ignorance had always infuriated her, more so than anything else. It was one thing to be unaware of something but quite another to shun knowledge and be boastful about it.

'I don't know shit about geography,' she recalled her friend's boyfriend saying once when they were out as a group. And he had said it with a big smile, as though not knowing the capital city of your own state were the mark of some great achievement.

It was the American way, she figured. Once it was a country full of respect for achievers and thinkers. Now our heroes are basketball stars that can barely recite the alphabet and completely dysfunctional TV 'families' who bickered for fame and fortune... and whores.

Hot boxing the cigarette, eager for the rush to her brain that would hold her for a couple more hours, she thought of Philip. She knew that he loved her. She was his sister in a way, the older sister he never had. And she didn't blame him for chasing down that pretty little Asian tart of his. After all, while some guys might fuck their sisters, they wouldn't marry them.

##########

"Hold on," said Philip while they walked toward the lobby hand in hand. He pulled Karla to the hotel manager's office and tapped on the door to get his attention.

"Yes." The middle aged man looked up and, noticing it was a guest, rose and said, "How can I help you?"

"May we take a seat for a moment. My name is Philip Connors and I'm a guest."

"Of course, Mr. Connors," they shook hands, "please come and have a seat is there something I can do? Address some shortcoming?"

"Oh no," they sat, "I wanted to ask you about an extended stay in one of your suites."

Karla looked at him like he shouldn't be playing this kind of joke on the manager and waste his time.

"I'd be delighted to show you our suites. What length of stay did you have in mind?"