Punjabi Desi Aunty Ko Choda Us Ke Ghar Mei
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From Jenny To Mei Ch. 27 free porn video
Cowboy let his cab roll the final fifteen feet as he steered the taxi to the curb in front of Philip’s converted hardware store. He dropped Mei Chun with a cheerful, ‘See ya soon, little lady.’ It was a cheerfulness Mei appreciated, one which showed her that not everyone thought her a whore, because she was certain Philip would.
‘But I was so happy half an hour ago,’ she thought as she tipped the loquacious taxi driver a ten. ‘Happy to be useful. So what happens now and what do I do tomorrow?’
She trudged up the stairs more worn out than she had been in a long time, each step more difficult than the one before it, each tread bringing new guilt to weigh her down. Jerome and the kids at the center, needing her while she worked out at the gym, preening and sweating in skin-tight pants. Pleading like a spoiled brat with Philip to spank her, degrade her, make her weep, and then ass fuck her until she felt better. Memories of being Jenny, pandering to her friends’ prejudices, paying obeisance to the group opinion and seeking to follow the twists and turns of its caprice.
‘Fuck them,’ she thought at the top tread. ‘Fuck the whole thing.’
She had, quite unconsciously, taken the top button off her shirt in preparation and the thought occurred to her, ‘Why am I getting naked? Why do I do this again?’
She stood motionless, unable to find her own mind. She liked being naked here, but why? ‘Pleasing Philip.’ That was true, she liked the way her body affected him. ‘But why? Why do I stand here with my thumb on the second button not knowing what to do? Am I a whore or not? Do I want what I’ve always wanted or not? Have I just had too much sex? Is it that dick I just had? Is it finally the one that will satisfy me? I mean, I’ll never find another one like Dr. K’s. Never.’ She grinned at the memory, she felt bad about it but the grin persisted. ‘What – a – fucking – monster! I swear I felt the ridge suck at the walls of my cunt on the way out.’ But the memory wasn’t enough to break her mood. ‘It’s that whole fucking ‘daddy’ shit. Must be. How long have I searched for daddy? Must be ten years now. Ten years when I never let myself morn. Never just stopped and thought what a motherfucker he was. Always hoping. Hoping so deep I didn’t even know what I was hoping for. Pushing it deeper, pushing it away to rot inside me.’
She reflected, fingering the third button, on the attempts at filling her cunt with daddy substitutes. ‘What a whore! What a goddamn dirty whore I made myself. Fucking without love. Fucking to use and manipulate and hurt those stupid enough to love me.
‘… until Philip…’
~~~~~
Philip and Ai were in the middle of a conversation when they entered the door at the back of the apartment. ‘… Other than electric motors and hydraulics there is no other way to power the thing. You weren’t thinking about steam were you?’
‘Wow, a steam powered fuck machine!’ Ai said before she called out to Mei. ‘Dà jiě… you home?’
‘Up front,’ Mei answered, ‘having a cry.’
Ai looked up at Philip who raised his eyebrows and took her backpack to put in the bedroom.
‘What’s up, hun?’ she asked her while squeezing his hand then letting it slide from hers.
Philip heard them glide into Chinese to continue their conversation. He had a sense that it was best to let Ai take the lead, or the brunt, perhaps. She was wiser, more emotive, and while she wasn’t always tender with Mei, she was effective. He put down her backpack then went and busied himself about the kitchen making Mei’s dinner and listening to them chatter in their shared language. She had it rough, he thought, as he assembled what was a mostly pre-prepared dinner. The changes she had undergone were so many and so quick there were bound to be wrinkles. He was prepared for most of the unpleasant aspects, prepared but not pleased.
‘Dinner, Mei,’ he announced, and put her meal on the breakfast bar. It was a perfectly plated dish of recently thawed Ricotta cheese ravioli in a lemon-mint sauce with shrimp scattered about and a few verdant clumps of broccoli.
‘Can I put something on?’ she asked from the couch.
Ai entered the bedroom answering in Philip’s stead. ‘Something cozy?’
‘Please.’
‘Why aren’t you guys eating?’ she asked as she approached the stool, fingers raking through her hair.
‘We ate at Ai’s parents’ house.’
‘Oh?’ she asked, hoping the pang she felt wasn’t revealed in her voice.
‘Her mom’s a great cook,’ he said, unable to resist adding a dash of salt to her wound. ‘Cute little brother, too.’
‘Uh huh.’ It hurt more than Mei would’ve thought.
She stood, threw on the sweatshirt and pajama bottoms that Ai brought her, and thought ugly things as she sat and ate.
She watched Philip putter about the kitchen, drank the white wine he provided, and silently grew more upset that he hadn’t said anything of an intent to visit Ai’s house. Mei was supposed to be the number one girlfriend and he had made no mention of a desire to meet her own mother.
Eddies of disconcerting questions began to swirl in her mind like heat in a convection oven while she picked at her dinner. What was their life going to be like, she wondered? Would she fall further and further behind the little Vietnamese whore? Should she be thinking thoughts like these when she knew that Ai was a better person than herself? The obvious answer, and one she knew was correct, told her that she shouldn’t, that her hurt feelings were her own fault, but it didn’t make her feel any better. Then, in a truly unusual revelation, she understood that feeling better wasn’t always the most important thing. It was a glimpse one quickly turned from, but like the ‘daddy’ thing, impossible to ignore.
The other two settled on the couch together and had the good manners not to giggle.
‘Ready for Paris, Mei Chun?’ Ai asked.
‘Paris? Why would I want to go to Paris?’ she thought, feeling stupid both for having wanted to go in the first place and for letting her mood quell the excitement she had felt just this morning.
‘I made some calls,’ Philip chimed in.
She made some sounds of insipid interest, hoping her sour mood might inspire a furious whipping and a dick up her ass.
‘We’ll settle the details later,’ he said.
With Mei’s plate cleaned and put into the dishwasher, with her hands washed and the machine started, Philip said, ‘Let’s go.’
It might have been Ai, or it may have been Philip that suggested sitting outside. Regardless of who, it was the fact that Ai seemed to know about the rooftop while she did not that sunk the dull blade of depression deeper into her heart.
The door was in the sex room and she had never noticed it before. Maybe because it was behind the anal domination bench or maybe it was because even its doorknob was painted black. Either way it was a secret she didn’t know about and she was in the mood to be suspicious.
Philip opened the door but it was Ai who passed through first. Maybe it was that she was stunned to see the outside world so suddenly accessible that she hesitated or maybe Ai had shoved her aside.
Then there was a smile. His smile. But she couldn’t say for sure if his smile was more for her, his Vietnamese whore, or for her own discomfort. ‘And what did a smile like that mean anyway? What is he trying to tell me? That he knows? That he expected it of me? That I was fun while I lasted but now that I’d fallen for his trap, failed his test, I wasn’t of interest anymore. That he’d write me a check for fifty grand and send it to my apartment?’
‘That asshole!’
In many ways Mei was an innocent. She was only now confronting the normal childhood experiences that formed most people’s psychological skill-set. For example, Mei was unaccustomed to guilt. As Jenny she’d been immune. Her reaction to its unfamiliar and unwelcomed appearance was an aggressive l
ashing out at the source rather than accept that her own behavior was the cause.
However, now that Jenny was Mei she wasn’t a complete fool. The half of her mind that knew the truth whispered again: ‘backstabbing whore’, and ‘ungrateful bitch!’ giving her a glimpse at what guilt was for.
The afternoon heat stored in the dusty black tar bubbled from the roof, returning its borrowed radiation. It made Mei think on the differences between interior and exterior. ‘Hot outside, cold inside. Angry inside, passive aggressive outside. Slut outside, whimpering, little, lonely girl inside.’
The exterior was on the same level as the third floor apartment, but since the third floor was half as wide as the second, the rooftop was spacious. There were the usual things one finds: gravel, great big, weathered air conditioning units, trash blown up from the street. There were long-dead potted plants and two camping chairs that reminded Mei that Philip had a life before her. She was glad the plants had died.
She walked on a path of broken wooden pallets, bleached white by the sun. They creaked, ‘whore’, with each step she took. Ahead, where the roof edge revealed more of the street with each step, were two old beach chairs and a box.
They sat.
Ai was a fucking angel, and they always showed angels on the right shoulder. Mei wasn’t sure why right signified good and left, the side Philip was on, temptation and debauchery. ‘Right does mean right, after all,’ maybe it was that simple, ‘and left handed sinners were the devil’s own spawn,’ so it made sense, if you had the mind of a hamster. Yet still, that’s where they sat, one to her left and one to her right.
The silence weighed down such that she felt her confession squeeze out of her. ‘I’m a whore.’ It fell out of her in an emotionless monotone.
The confession was met with silence, an insulting silence. Philip, silent on a crate that creaked when he moved, Ai, silent in the chair, the white dust of its faded fabric smudging her jeans at the thigh. All three stared straight ahead.
‘I fucked Dr. K.’
Silence.
‘Or rather, he fucked me.’
Was the silence her punishment? Had the two of them planned it? ‘Let’s make Mei squirm when she confesses.’
‘How was it?’
The question was sterile, unemotional and therefore insulting. Philip, she thought, had timed it perfectly. The tears opened from her eyes as though on command. ‘It was beautiful,’ she said into her palms.
‘What was that?’ she heard him ask and thought she could hear his blood pressure rise in the slight stress present in his voice. It made her feel like shit and feeling like shit made her angry. She lifted her head in a jerk and the turn of her hips to look at him nearly made her fall forward out of the chair . ‘It was BEAUTIFUL! You fucking prick!’
Silence…
The sound of Ai’s shoes slowly grinding the gravel balanced Mei’s sobbing in a sound that was both a lamentation and, strangely, a comfort.
‘Long, thick, with a head like a plumb,’ she muttered into her palms.
Silence. Long, quiet silence from those that were supposed to be her lifetime soul mates. Silence over the street noise and the breeze that brought the turbulent stink of the bay to Mei’s nose.
She saw from the edge of her eye Ai take a sip of her Corona.
‘That bitch. One week has it been? One week of her act. Ten days maybe? Once a whore, Ai… I recognize it, being a whore myself. But you’re so much better at it than me. Bet you’ve got your numbers in a little red book at momma’s house.
‘But you’ll have more patience than me. You’ll wait a few months, probably make him think it was his idea. Just something you always wanted to try, right? Get him in a three way with one of your favorite clients. Convince him a little cocksucking might be fun to try. Right? Isn’t that how it’s gonna go? ‘It’ll be so sexy to watch, baby. I’ve always wanted to see a guy suck dick.’ And he’ll do it, the asshole. Anything for his sweet little Ai.’
And they drank… in silence, as Mei’s unheeded tears wet small, powdery, crushed gray stone.
‘I gave you my permission.’
‘Fuck your permission!’
Silence.
A horrible silence that accused her. Silence that called her whore. Silence that forced her to hear the voice within that whispered analogous recriminations: ‘slut’, ‘selfish bitch’, ‘cunt’. It opened a hollow place inside her and allowed the self-loathing of the past ooze up from a cold darkness.
She could feel Philip’s anger grow but she was indifferent. His rage no longer held hope for her.
‘My mother had a cat…’ Ai said.
‘Fuck your mothers cat, you prostitute bitch.’
‘… I let it out once because it seemed to want out. I was eleven and we had rule that the cat was never to be let out of the house.’
Mei watched her slowly raise the bottle, saw, from the corner of her eye as the drip of condensed water fell toward her lap.
‘We found it dead three days later, just asleep under the car, or that was what dad thought. I knew she was dead.’ She took another long sip. ‘It tore my mother apart but I never explained to her why I did it … but you know why, Mei Chun. You know why I let the cat out.’
Weary from the effort of projecting her self-hatred onto Ai she stared across the street and answered with an emotionless voice. ”Cause you’re a bitch who wanted her mother to suffer.’
‘Exactly.’
The conversation stilled leaving a void into which a new sound tumbled, the sound of Philip thinking and rocking on his crate.
‘See,’ Ai went on, ‘my mom needed a good long cry because her mother had finally died of her cancer the day after I let the cat out. She kept it all bottled up and rotting inside of her. I’m still not sure why.’ She looked at Philip. ‘See what a clever one Destiny is, Philip? Mom had to break and the cat had to die. It was her time. She knew it and she let me know it. I didn’t see at first, not until after mom recovered. But it was clear after that.’
Mei turned to confront Ai with all the vitriol and venom that had been gathering within her. But before it could be delivered, before even the breath that would push out the scathing remark was secure in Mei’s lungs, she was struck across the face by Ai’s slim little hand.
‘What the fuck!’ Philip yelped and toppled off the crate.
Ai, as quick as a lynx, wrapped Mei’s hair around her hand and pulled her in close. ‘So,’ she said, with absolute calm, ‘if you, Mei Chun, need me to open the door and let you out, you just go ahead and keep giving me the sign.’
It wasn’t the physical intimidation that froze Mei’s blood, it was the ice cold look in Ai’s face, devoid of the slightest emotion and as placid as sleep.
‘Ai!’ Philip pleaded.
‘If you can’t take responsibility… if Philip is too good for you, then leave him to me and go die under a car.’
‘Ai!’
She looked up at him. ‘Go get a damned chair that doesn’t squeak, and more beer. We’re getting drunk. And order a pizza.’
~~~~~
‘You are such a cunt.’
‘Yep.’
‘I mean – more salt – such a psycho bitch.’
Ai practically poured the entire shaker on the crook of Mei’s thumb. It was their third tequila shot and Philip was inside getting more lime slices. ‘That enough salt, drama queen?’
Ai’s warning had been received, begrudgingly at first, then as it nagged Mei with its message, was digested, and finally sunk to the bottom of her troubled mind.
‘So what do I do, Ai?’
‘Don’t fuck this up.’
‘It was for Dr. K and now I’m afraid it’s for me.’
‘Think he’ll stop loving you?’
‘Wouldn’t you?’ Mei scoffed.
‘Of course not. I mean, you getting a great dick just makes me happy for you.’
‘But not him.’
‘Yeah, I wouldn’t think so, but guys are strange. Some of ’em loved the idea that when I left their
hotel I was gonna be getting nailed by someone else an hour later.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah, really. Drink your shot.’
‘That’s not Philip,’ Mei said and felt the sting of the tequila soak into her chest. ‘I hate hurting him but the thing is… I discovered something.’
‘Discovered what?’ Philip’s voice from behind them had regained its rich, authoritative tone.
‘Tell him.’
‘No,’ Mei simultaneously coughed and whined below her breath.
‘Tell me what?’
She hung her head, avoiding him.
‘It’s not like he doesn’t know,’ Ai said, which caused Mei to add heat to her glance.
‘Oh, please!’ she laughed at Mei’s attempt at ferocity.
‘Tell me what?’
‘Should I, jiějiě?’ Ai offered.
‘You don’t know either.’
Ai lifted her eyebrows indicating a challenge but she held her tongue.
Mei, still with her face pointed to the rooftop, said, ‘I don’t want to say this.’
… silence …
‘I really don’t want to say this.’
She looked up and into their faces. Their expressions were unreadable — a visual silence.
‘I blurted out something, while, um…’ She looked at Philip and wished he hadn’t given his permission for the ‘gift blow job’, wondered for the first time if doing so was an indication that he loved her less than he had said he did. ‘… uh…’
‘What?’
Philip’s irritated prompt brought her back. ‘I said ‘daddy.’ I called him daddy and it fucking did something for me. Ok? Like I needed my father to be the one fucking me and it made me cry. It, like, tore a hole in my heart. And later I kissed him saying it over and over and crying in joy and disgust.’
The disclosure was met with yet more silence.
‘What?!’ Mei asked, ‘didn’t you hear?’
‘Mei Chun, jiějiě. You’ve been wearing a great big, pink fluorescent, ‘I’ve got daddy issues’ t-shirt since I met you. If anybody wanted daddy’s dick, it’s you.’
‘And you?’ Mei asked Philip.
‘I’m thinking.’
‘Don’t think, Philip,’ Ai said, ‘not at a time like this. When a girl is telling you she wants to be fucked by her father is not the time she wants you to analyze the statement. Just say something… something sensitive.’
‘Uh… It hurts me… to think your father left you.’
Mei looked at Ai for an interpretation.
Ai’s hand landed on her knee. ‘That’s probably the best he can do.’
‘I mean,’ he continued, ‘you know the idea of you having sex with anyone makes the bile bubble up into my throat.’ He looked as kindly as he could in respect for her fragile condition, ‘with any guy, that is. But if it’s therapeutic, if it’s going to show you something about yourself and let you work out issues, then… at least that’s something.’
While Mei stared forward, lost in thought, Ai looked at Philip with caring and sympathy. She knew, perhaps more than Philip did, how important Mei was to him. She wasn’t just some girl he blackmailed. She was the fulcrum about which he was turning his life. She was the point to which he had tied his own transformation. And that’s why Mei was indispensable.
Men, she knew, grew at different and unpredictable moments in their lives, and in stages rather than in one phase. Philip, she thought, had changed when his father died, had grown in prison, but was now trying to make the adjustment that would guide him into the long period of full adulthood. Only one transformative event was still on the horizon, the birth of his first child, her child or Mei’s, it didn’t matter that much to her, or that’s what she told herself.
She also knew that Philip had no idea what he was doing, not his conscious mind anyway. And she wasn’t about to explain it to him. Nothing good would come from it, and he might even cast Mei aside just to prove he wasn’t following some blind instinct compelling him toward maturity.
Mei, likewise in the dark about Philip’s unconscious motivation, took him at his word. ‘Maybe that’s what it is. Maybe Dr. K is just a symbol and that ridiculous cock of his is something like destiny. Like, if he were a shriveled up old man then it wouldn’t have the… um, impact it had. Maybe that slip of the tongue, that wave of thrilling shame at imagining him as my father was my fucked up psyche relieving some twisted up tension in my subconscious. Maybe what it feels like my body is telling me, that getting fucked by a huge daddy dick, is what I need to work out these abandonment issues?’
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