Mei awoke first. She had slept a dreamless sleep yet didn't feel particularly refreshed while she lie looking at the ceiling and thinking. She watched the warm rose-cream light of morning make the wallpaper and textured ceiling glow. It was nice. It was calming as was the breathing of those next to her and the human warmth against her thigh. The quiet moment let her think and feel the discrete emotions which floated inside her like gilings in the pink wedge of sunlight. The feelings were indeed glowing little fluffs of dust in the light of her attention and it made thinking about them easier.
The first to catch her eye was relief that her request was finally made. It had been nagging at her, giving her a feeling like she wasn't doing all she could for Dr. K. That she remained selfish despite all the changes Philip had inspired.
Second was discomfort that she had made it. His expression after he forced her to come clean was puzzled and more shocked than angry. And the last thing she wanted was to be the cause of his anguish. Yet he had demanded her honesty and she was honest. Lifting Dr. K's spirits was what she wanted and her plan would do that, she was certain.
And then there was hope glittering larger than the rest. Hope that she really was changing, that she was becoming the girl Philip wanted her to be. One that cared deeply for people and would be brave enough to risk her lover's wrath for that cause.
She thought it a bit strange that she didn't notice guilt drifting around anywhere and took comfort in the fact. It's absence assured her that her motivations were pure. 'I mean,' she said to herself, 'who could enjoy blowing an old man?' Yet a flutter of excitement gently quivered her diaphragm at the image of her on her knees, Dr. K standing before her and petting her hair. She could almost hear his words caress her, "Good, Mei. Such a good girl."
Dr. K was such a - capital 'N' - nice old guy. He was just the kind to have made her question her belief that men were dicks, if she, as Jenny, had bothered to question any of her beliefs. He was warm in the way sunshine was warm - shining it's rays on flowers and weeds alike, and giving without expectation of receiving in return. He was jovial with a quick wit that showed how clever he was. It was impossible to imagine him angry or disappointed with anyone. He was the kind of old man that she found herself seeking approval from without understanding why. He was always caring, always gentle; she thought him a great big teddybear of a man. However, she only realized his thorough goodness after Philip had forced her to see the world with new eyes.
And now she saw him crumbling into despair. He was a man who didn't deserve heartbreak and yet was cursed to watch a second loved one whither and die. His pain, his barely concealed despondency, and his tired smile made her heart bleed. She would do this and be proud of any pleasure she could bring him.
And Philip would understand, he just had to. He was her man, of that there was no doubt in her mind. He was authority, stability, wisdom and dealt out devastating orgasmic trauma that split her soul and sent her drifting in some bizarre psychic/spiritual place. And she loved him with a ferocity that sometimes startled her. No, there would be no replacing Philip. Yet Dr. K was somehow hers too. His smile told her so as did that gentle, sweet soul stuffed inside a tall, burly old man's body. He was just the kind that, had he been forty years younger, Jenny would have loved destroying. But now that she could celebrate the death of her former self, she wanted only to relieve his pain.
But why this fluttering in her belly which she wished would stop? What she wanted to do was about him, his satisfaction and not the glow of appreciation she would feel - that was her motivation. Or, that was what she told herself. Yet as she thought more of how things might go, she found that the now full-fledged blow job fantasy was causing the flutter to intensify rather than abate.
Gently pushing his hips forward and back, the Dr. K in her mind soothed her with his verbal caresses as his large hand rested on her hair and his grey haired cock stroked against her tongue. "Good, sweet, Mei. Such a good, caring girl. You're so good to your..."
She jerked upright at the thought, nearly waking her bedmates. A hot flush rose to her face and curdled her gut. She knew what the next word in her mind was going to be. Struggling against it she left the bed, pushing it from her mind until she crossed the threshold into the bathroom where it overpowered her:
"...Daddy."
Jenny had been the least introspective of people and Mei was hardly as self-aware as Ai, yet even she could not avoid such a revelation. "What the fuck... daddy? Get a fucking grip, Mei!" she castigated her reflection. She huffed and blew a clump of hair from her eye and resolutely hid from the thought even as she felt something familiar and unwelcome in her loins.
Just as she was stepping into the stream, hoping the shower would clean her of the disgusting notion, Ai entered and sat on the toilet.
"Got room in there for me jiějiě?" she asked as she peed.
The distraction of Ai's light and cheerful attitude was welcome. "Of course mèimèi, don't ask from now on. You're always welcome in my shower."
Ai's skin tone was just a shade darker than Mei's, she was just a hair shorter and maybe two pounds lighter but otherwise had the same slim figure. If it weren't for Mei's full, teardrop breasts and somewhat meatier limbs one would think them made from the same mould.
"Oh my god, what an unbelievable night," Ai said, taking the soap from Mei's hands. "Turn around, jiějiě, let me soap you up."
"Every time has been like that. I mean, it's like the second or third time he's sent me out of my body. I don't know how he does it."
"And he gave you a magic number," Ai said, "I mean..."
"Yep." Mei grinned, delighting in being special.
"... I mean, who ever heard of that? Just saying a number and you, like..." She paused and looked with seriousness into Mei's eyes. "You two aren't putting me on, right?"
"Nope. He fucked that number right into my head."
"You lucky little bitch." And to demonstrate how fortunate she was, Ai soaped her lovely breasts from behind, hefting them in flat, soapy palms and repeated, "lucky little bitch."
Mei's nipples tightened and puckered at the attention of thumbs gently coaxing them. She let the back of her head rest on Ai's forehead and hummed her contentment at the simple pleasure. "You'll get one. He's a genius,"
As if on cue, Philip came in, said good morning, ran his fingers through his hair, stood before the toilet and pissed. And as the stream struck the water he took notice of those ideal breasts of Mei's and how the froth of bubbles and Ai's delicate hands cupping them from beneath added to their allure.
The girls moved forward in unison until the breasts before him pancaked against the glass, twin tan-white-pink, soft-foamy-firm circles of female promise pushed forward for the pleasure of his eyes. Again he felt his mind quake.
'I am one lucky fuck.'
He expected to see them presenting a sexy smirk when he looked up at their faces, but instead they were gazing down toward his dick. And rather than pride, or actually before pride, he felt a hint of shame. Not the shame of nudity but one of inadequacy. They stared at his dick like it was a foot long and shimmering with ethereal light. But it wasn't. It was just his normal dick.
"Never see a guy pee before?" he asked to break the uncomfortable spell.
"Yeah," Mei answered, her face pressed against the shower glass, her voice muffled by the barrier and falling water yet still with a discernible trace of awe, "...but not with your dick."
He grunted and, when he was finished peeing, gave a bit of an extra squeeze to make his cock lurch. Mei's heart skipped when she saw it bounce and wondered why guys didn't come when they peed.
And, as the splattering of his pee striking the toilet water became an intermittent exclamation, she thought about the act of urination and the substance of urine in particular. She concluded, quite quickly, that it was gross. 'Piss is... like...' but she halted her thought there, wondering about
his
piss. 'Everything is special about him. I mean, magic dick and all. Even his cum tastes good. Maybe ...?' Then she shifted thought entirely and wondered how would it make her feel if he peed on her in the shower. An involuntary shiver thwanged up her spine at imagining something so repulsive, or maybe it was a thrill of naughty excitement, she couldn't sense which. Of course she would wash it off right away, like, well, like it was piss, and the idea of it on her face, much less in her mouth made her head quiver. It was still disgusting, but feeling his warm pee blaze a trail over her tits and belly while she stared lovingly into his eyes had an undeniable, if perverse, appeal.
'Everyone would know I was his to command — his sex slave!'
She felt the bones of her legs gelify, sensed that her eyes were taking on that stupid, transparent glaze. 'Of course I'd have to tell them before they knew. I'd have to tell all of Jenny's horrible old friends. And Judy and Carol at work would have to know and the director.
Simultaneous with the thought that everyone would know, his cock throbbed, propelling a final squirt which splashed into the water, her nipples crinkled painfully and a race of fire ricochet around her vagina. "Philip pisses on me when I'm good..." she saw herself confessing to her coworkers. 'That sounds so fucking hot. A hot jet of golden yellow pee sprayed on my beautiful tits! These tits he loves. And everyone would know. I could never deny I was his slave. Sex Slave! Goddamn how I love being his sex slave. I need a t-shirt! I wonder how I ask him to pee on me without sounding as sick as it sounds?'
The show over, Ai touched Mei's shoulder and said, "Turn around and put your chin up, jiějiě. Let me wash your hair."
She turned to follow his body walking to the sink, still swimming in her daydream wondering if she really could be so depraved as all that.
She dimly obeyed Ai's gentle gesture, a lifting of her chin, until she saw her eyes lock on her own.
"What?" Mei asked, feeling the 'I know what you're thinking,' meaning in her eyes, but Ai didn't respond to the question. "Lemme wash your hair."
Having Philip as a lover and a master was the best gift life could give her. However, having Ai be lovingly attentive was an unexpected bonus. Like being told she was the millionth shopper at Coach and the prize wasn't just a gift card but all the handbags she could carry.
Ai was a delight as she worked her fingers on Mei's scalp and through her hair. The way she scrunched it up, lathered it and slowly massaged her temples felt wonderfully affectionate. She felt her heart relax and bond to Ai with every sensation that traversed her scalp.
