Ai watched Mei arise out of the big bed from the corners of drowsy eyes. She lay with Philip's forearm on the outside of her thigh, his fingers dangling near her groin.
'Poor girl,' she thought, envisioning Mei kneeling in front of a white-haired, lab-coated doctor, his huge penis dangling at her chin. 'Poor confused girl.'
She pictured little bubbles with the word, 'Daddy!' in bold italics floating out of Mei's bobbing head, each festooned with little red and pink hearts to decorate her thoughts.
Ai knew with absolute certainty that thoughts of Philip would be absent when Mei's heart pitter-pattered with the thrill of feeling her doctor's semen throb into her mouth.
'Poor girl,' Ai thought with a not insincere mental shrug as she performed a slow gyration of her rump against her man's lower thorax, 'she's gonna have to learn the hard way.'
##########
On the ride into work Mei thought about losing the man who had so quickly dominated her life. The man who had made her smile, had forced her to consider things about herself she would not have, and who's caring concern for her was as evident as his handsomeness. The man who might have been fertilizing the womb of her bedmate and new best friend that very moment.
'Would it be so bad?' she mused. 'I could be different than I was, even without him. I've learned a lot. I don't think I'd ever be Jenny again.'
Quickly she pushed away the thought. Nothing Philip had said or done last night gave her any reasonable basis on which to doubt his feelings for her, yet it still felt that he was treating her as though she had some illness he was trying to diagnose. 'Slut can't be that hard to figure out,' she thought.
She dwelt on the money for a while as the driver, Cisco and not Cowboy, made the turn for the congested bridge crossing. His wealth was nearly as seductive as Philip himself. Though she hadn't used the card for much she was comforted by its presence. 'Might as well be dumped with a bang,' she grumbled as a fantasy of flying in a Gulfstream to meet Markéta in Paris and shopping herself sick popped into her head. It was a fabrication that quickly evaporated because she knew she would be doing just such a thing soon anyway. And in her marrow she really didn't feel Philip would dump her. He had Ai, and so why was impossible that she could have someone other than him with which to work out issues? A male someone? Anyway, he loved her and if it weren't for hating herself at the moment she could take comfort in the fact.
'Shit!' she chided herself, her mild despair accompanied by a sag of her soft shoulders, 'and I forgot to blow him this morning.'
The oversight didn't worry her too much. With Ai around Philip wouldn't go unsated. And as disheartened as she felt, she involuntary smiled thinking of Ai. She muttered, "
Jì dàng fù
," in the back seat. It roughly translates from Mandarin as 'cum slut'.
One might be tempted to think Mei Chun had a simple solution to her problem; telling Dr. K yesterday had been fun but she realized that it wasn't appropriate to continue. However, that only demonstrates the difficulty in fully empathizing with her. No one can feel the pull of someone else's need nor understand how the mind of another rewards or punishes itself.
Mei had felt she had found something more profound in her experience yesterday than just a big dick. She gained an insight into who she was and why she had been such an awful person. She needed to know exactly why, and she thought that Dr. K might be a kind of book that, were she to study it sufficiently, would explain this issue with her father that had formed her former personality.
It might seem odd, from a distance, that the excuse to indulge a new, strongly felt hankering to partake in sex from the submissive position, to do so by submitting to the largest organ in her experience, wielded by an elder member of the opposing sex, having not only age as a mark of seniority but being her employment supervisor as well, would require a self-deception so ludicrous as this. Such was the weight upon Mei's subconscious. It knew she was fucking things up - knew it just as Ai and indeed Philip knew it. And, in the silent way subconscious speaks to conscious, a negotiation was conducted, a mutually acceptable plan devised and an agreement reached. Mei would, without the inconvenience of engaging her moral faculties, reason to herself that betraying Philip would render herself a more fitting human being for him. Future clean her rotten soul, purge the remnant of bitch and perhaps allow the true woman, the original Mei Chun, to be born through her submission to her new, her just and proper - daddy.
And then, as women will do, she thought of the money again. Philip had enough of it to take away all of her material cares. Enough to make the most lavish lifestyle fantasies a reality. Homes in faraway places, maids, cooks, personal trainers, a new house for her mom.
And yet...
She had told herself that she was too busy to take advantage of his money, that Philip had designed things so that she wouldn't have a moment to slide back into her old ways, but that wasn't it. Was it personal growth? Was it that she was still shell shocked by the way her life had been shaken? For whatever reason she found that the things she had imagined that wealth could do didn't appeal to her. Thoughts of living in vulgar indulgence actually wrinkled her nose. Prada was nice, Hermes was lovely and yes, a place nicer than his old hardware store might be a fine thing, but these weren't an issue for her. They were, she nearly gasped at the insight, unimportant. And, like air rushing to fill a vacuum, the realization of what was important filled the void. She needed, like Ai had said, to be sweet, to give love and feel love and fill her heart with it.
And it was like this, confused, hopeful, guilty and drawn toward temptation, that she exited the cab and starred skyward into the San Francisco morning.
##########
"Drink this," Ai ordered while she pushed a glass of foamy, pale green liquid into Philip's wet hand. An uncompromising expression and a towel over her shoulder demonstrated her earnestness.
"What is it?"
"Drink it."
"What is it?"
"You wanna do this all morning?"
"Just tell me what's in it."
She shifted her weight to her left foot and tapped her right. A perky, snarky, fun-loving expression played behind her eyes and at the corners of her mouth.
He sniffed. "Smells awful. Is this wheat grass or *sniff* sprouts?"
"Drink it." She turned and left with the towel.
Moments later, dripping into the kitchen without a stitch on, he found her zipping up a black container the size of two loaves of bread.
"Ok, what is it?" he asked, taking the towel off of her shoulder and rocking the half finished glass to demonstrate that he was complying with her order.
Ai lifted the fabric box and moved past him toward the pantry. "You look... hmmm, been doing push-ups? Now finish the drink."
"Tastes like horse bile," he said and held his nose to underscore the unsavory flavor.
The box rattled as she opened the pantry door with her elbow.
"What's in there?" he asked and grew even more curious when she took a small brass lock from her pocket.
"Not important. Finish it?" she asked as she locked the two zippers together.
