Black Pussy and Tits

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By the time I pulled into my driveway, dawn had faded into
full morning. When I unlocked the front door, I realized everyone had
left for the day. Silence filled the house; my soft steps echoed on
the slate in the front hallway. "Lovely," I murmured sarcastically to
myself. "Finally all the privacy I always complained about, and just
when I wanted it, too. Lucky, lucky me." I sighed and carried my bags
the rest of the way to my room.

A half a dozen yellow Post-It notes peppered my door:
reminders of bills, household meetings, cooking arrangements. I
glanced over them to make sure nothing was urgent as I opened the
door. I dropped my bags just inside the door and threw myself on the
bed. The sheets were fresh; I always cleaned up before leaving town,
so I didn't come back to a mess. I reached out and hit the playback
button on my answering machine, then buried my face in a pillow while
I listened.

The machine beeped and whirred. A woman's voice, distant and
metallic through the machine. "Hey Nan. I'm sending you the contract on
that story like we talked about. Look it over and get it back to me as
soon as you can, or call me if you've got questions."

More beeps, followed by the sound of the phone hanging up. I
guessed telemarketers, or people not looking to talk to my machine.
Then one more beep, followed by Phillip's voice, sounding rich and
comfortingly familiar, even through the recording's distortion.

"Hello, Nan. I've been thinking about you. I know you're out
of town, but I wanted to leave a message suggesting you call me when
you get back in. Let me know when you're available and I'll make time
for you. I think getting together would be mutually beneficial. Take
care."

I giggled as the machine started to rewind. It amused me to
hear Phillip trying so hard to request rather than compel. I rolled
over on the bed and threw my arms out to the side. Sprawled out like
that, I stared at the ceiling and tried to decide what to do with my
day. I felt too tired to work, too antisocial to go out to lunch. I
wanted to stay in my bed, rest and get out of the blue mood I'd
brought back with me.

I sat up and slipped off the bed. I paused to move my bags and
shut the door, then headed into the bathroom to run a bath. I poured
some jasmine-scented bubble bath in the water and stood watching it
dissolve until bubbles started to form. I started to get undressed,
but reconsidered. Changing my mind, I went back into the other room,
pausing only long enough to look up a number before dialing it. The
other line rang five times without answering; I started to hang up,
but stopped short when I heard his voice.

"Hello?"

"Hi." I didn't say anything else, just waited.

"Nan! I knew you'd be back today, but I didn't expect you to
call so soon..." Phillip said, sounding pleased.

"Neither did I. Look, I know this is sudden, but I'm free all
today, I thought you might like to come by or something."

There was a little pause: Phillip thinking. "Would you like to
meet for lunch? I've got a new place I like, it's great chinese --"

"No. I don't want to go out today," I replied, cutting him
off. "I only just walked in the door, I was going to hang out and
rest. Do you mind coming here instead?"

"Ah, sure...maybe I could bring you over lunch or something.
When would be good for you?"

He was trying to sound unruffled, but I got the feeling I was
confusing him. "Oh, anytime today. I'll be here. I'm getting in a bath
now, then I may take a nap. I'll see you when you get here? The bath
is running..."

"Sounds like a plan. Later, then."

"Bye," I said, and hung up, before he could start asking me
questions. I went back in to check on the water. It was about half
full. I started to put a CD on, but all the music I really wanted to
hear was still packed, so I left it quiet. Returning to the bathroom,
I slipped out of my clothes, tossed them into the hamper, and stepped
into the water.

It was hot, but not hot enough to make me step back out again.
I sat down slowly, stretching my legs out in front of me. I let my
hands slip beneath the waterline and began moving them back and
forth under the bubbles. Watching the blurred shadows of my hands, I
tried to relax. I thought about putting some salt in the water, but
there was none nearby and I didn't want to get back out. Instead, I
closed my eyes and started splashing water on myself, trying to cover
my shoulders and back with the warmth.

With the water still running, I slipped down a bit in the
water and listened to the echoing splashes. My eyes were still closed.
I guess that's why I didn't hear the door open, didn't hear anything
until I felt a touch on my shoulder and then it was Phillip's voice,
soft, saying my name.

I sat up in the water with a start, splashing everything
around me. "What the *fuck*? PHILLIP! Goddamn it, don't EVER do that!"
I yelled, glaring at him. We were both still for a moment: I
was breathing fast in a rush of fear and suprise, while Phillip stood
motionless in the bathroom doorway, waiting for my suprise to abate.
I could see dark blotches on his suit pants where my splashing had
caught him.

"I brought you breakfast," he said calmly, as if nothing at
all was wrong with showing up in my bathroom unannounced.

"Breakfast?"

"Strawberry and cream cheese croissants. Breakfast. Orange
juice, as well. Would you like to wait until you get out of the bath,
or eat them while you bathe?"

"I can't believe you nearly scare me to death sneaking into my
house, and now you're standing there offering me *orange juice*?" I
squeaked out incredulously.

Phillip smiled slightly. I could tell he was fighting to
retain what little seriousness was left in his expression. "I'm sorry.
I forgot that you prefer cranberry juice. On the other hand, you
should know by now that I am not a morning person...."

I got the urge to see how much of the bath water I could
splash onto him in one try. I thought the better of it at the last
second, though; instead, I stuck out my tongue. "I would like them
now, please."

"As you wish it, my lady," he replied with mock-reverence. He
bowed slightly and went back into the bedroom, returning a moment
later with a small white paper bag and a clear plastic cup of orange
juice. He set the juice down on the edge of the bathtub. After turning
to make sure the toilet seat lid was down, he sat down himself. While
I reached out to dry my hands on the towel hanging across the shower
curtain, Phillip opened the white bag and produced a croissant for me
and a plain roll for himself. "How was your trip?" he asked as he
handed me the pastry.

"First," I mumbled around a bite, crumbs falling into the
bath water, "tell me how you got into the house."

"Ah, simple enough. I started to knock, but discovered that
you had inadvertantly left the front door slightly open. Since I knew
you were in the bath, I didn't want to make you get out to let me in,
so I took the liberty... Do you really mind that much, Nan?"

He looked sincere enough that I felt bad for wanting to yell
at him. "No, I guess not. I just...well, you know I hate being
suprised like that." I paused to take another bite and finish it.
"These are good, you know. Where did you get them?"

Phillip shrugged. "I know a good bakery. Tell me about your
trip? You saw Owen, you had a good time? I don't think you've been
taking enough time off for pleasureable activities."

I sighed and sunk down into the water, rested my head against
the tiled wall. "I don't think this counted as a pleasurable activity,
no. What do you want to hear? I went, I'm back. I'm glad to be back."

We sat quietly like that for a while. I could tell Phillip was
trying to gauge the situation, trying to guess what to say to get the
most out of me. Finally, I sat up to refresh the bath water. I turned
on the hot and started talking again, as I had a feeling Phillip knew
I would.

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"I saw Owen, yes. He's just as melancholy, just as charming,
as uncomfortable with himself, quiet, nostalgic, sharp.... and we
went out and had a pleasant round of small talk, and we went home. And
like a good little trouper I explained how I don't spend my time in
love with people who don't love me back anymore, I'm all grown up now,
adults don't do that, and now he doesn't have the burden of guilt that
all that messy unrequited shit brings. I'm all grown up now, I'm 'just
anyone', and I don't have grand romances anymore."

"And what did he say?"

"'Ah.' He said 'Ah.' Nothing else. I could tell he was hurt,
maybe more hurt than he had been at not being in love with me. He's
just as stoic as he ever was, though. Good ol' Owen. Tucked me into
bed in a green room with faery prints on the walls. Made me breakfast
in the morning. And then I left. I finished up with business and came
home...." My voice drifted off to silence. I blinked to keep back
tears and turned off the hot water. I noticed the orange juice and
began drinking it in big sips.

"I could tell you were upset on the phone," Phillip began
softly, "I didn't want you to lie alone in bed all day, feeling
miserable, Nan. I was worried about you."

"Is there another croissant?" I sniffed a little. Phillip
nodded and pulled it out of the bag for me. He crumpled up the empty
bad and dropped it into the garbage can under the sink. I finished the
pastry up quickly, wolfing it down in big bites. By the time I was
finished, big tears were rolling down my cheeks and into the water.

"I don't know what I was thinking of, but I thought that now
that I was on my own and doing the right thing, stuff like this would
stop hurting me. I would be invulnerable, or something. Instead, I
feel like I've graduated to new and more devastating forms of pain.
Subtle, but still nastier. I want the old stuff back," I finished with
a wail, leaning my head onto my knees so I could sob freely.

"Kid fears," Phillip commented, making me cry harder, even as
I nodded back at him. "I'm sorry, Nan. I know it's hard...it's
hard for me, for everyone..." I could tell he was at a loss for words
to comfort me -- but then, I already knew there was nothing to say
about it.

"Phillip?" I sniffled, questioning.

"I'm here, pretty one. What do you wish?"

I felt embarrassed for just a moment, but I had to ask. "Would
you get in the bathtub with me?"

"Would that make you feel better, hmm?" he asked me, his eyes
all soft. I nodded, then put my head down and started crying again.
He went back into the bedroom and took off his suit and things, then
returned and stepped into the tub.

"Be careful, you'll make it spill on the floor..." I warned,
but I didn't really care. We wiggled around until his legs were
stretched out outside of mine. I leaned back against him and rubbed my
cheek against his neck.

We rested that way for a long time, Phillip murmuring
comforting words to me while I let the tears run down my face and onto
his chest. I felt small again, like I was in the blue room pouring out
my hurts to Phillip as I had when I was a child, when he had been the
only person I trusted with those feelings.

"Phillip? Can I...."

"Hmm?"

"Nevermind...."

"No, tell. Please," he added. I could tell it was an afterthought.

I closed my eyes. "Can I be your little girl again, just for
today? I miss it. I think I .... need that, right now."

Phillip hugged me tight against him for a moment. "You are
always so, inside my head, little one."

"No, that's not what I meant....I mean, I want to spend the
day here that way, being yours. For today."

I could feel him nodding. "Ah, understood." He paused again,
thinking. "I don't carry your band with me, Nan," he said gently. I
thought he must be worried I hadn't thought of that, it would hurt my
feelings or something.

"I didn't think you would, silly! I'm not that sentimental,
and I don't think you are, either." I was crying less and giggled a
little.

"I -- well, I *did* carry it around for a while."

"Oh." I felt a little embarrassed at having made him admit it.
"Well, anyway, I could still be yours without it."

"Mmmhmm?"

I nodded. "You could mark me, or something like that."

Phillip shook his head. "I don't carry cutting supplies around
with me either, pretty one."

"I didn't mean that."

"What did you mean, then?"

"You could just....um, do it here." I felt the blush rising
up my neck. "Or something." I lifted my head to look up at Phillip's
eyes. He looked back, still confused.

"Here?"

I nodded again, still blushing. "You've done it before."

A light of recognition came to his face. "Ohhhhhhh, yes.
Understood. That would please you?"

"Very much. It would make me feel better, and ...well, would
it please *you*, Phillip?" I asked, a bit concerned that I was asking
too much on such short notice.

He smiled, his eyes bright. "Yes, it would. We'll rest here
for a bit longer, then I will do as you have asked. After that, we'll
see what appeals to me."

I leaned back into his chest to wait, trying not to seem
overeager. I could hear his heart beating, a soft thudding in my ears.
I was reminded of a time we had gone swimming at night. Phillip had
held me against him so that I was floating in the water. I had closed
my eyes and listened while he hummed lullabies. I'd heard them like
this, muted and deep, my ear pressed against his heart. I was soothed
again, as I had been then.

I must have dozed off just a little bit. When I came to,
the water was much cooler. "I'm ready now," Phillip said softly in my
ear. He hugged me against him again, then began untangling himself
from me, making water splash onto the floor again. "I'm going to stand
up now. Kneel up, please."

I scooted back to let him up, then turned around in the tub
and knelt so that I was facing him. Phillip stood at the end of the
tub opposite the drain. He put one hand on my head, twining his
fingers into my hair.

"Close your eyes."

I obeyed. There was an awkward moment while we waited, then I
felt the first drops fall on my neck. That became an uneven stream of
Phillip's urine on my neck and face. It felt warmer than I remembered
it -- more a sensation of movement than of wetness, because the
temperature was so close to my own.

"Open your mouth."

Again I complied, tasting his piss on my tongue. It was a
little bitter. I could tell he'd not had that much to drink this
morning. I swallowed and held my tongue out for more, catching the
drops on the tip like I had caught snowflakes as a child. I smiled and
licked my lips as the stream played over my eyes, my cheeks, back to
my breasts. The flow decreased, a last few drops falling again on my
neck. Phillip gripped my hair tightly, pulling my face towards him. I
accepted his dick into my mouth, licked the last drops from it.

"You are mine," he said, holding my head close to him with
both hands. He let pulled me back slightly, so I could speak.

"I am, I am...." I started crying again. Phillip stroked my
hair a bit. I could tell he was savoring the moment: me at his feet,
his piss dripping from my face, marking me as his, for now.

Phillip released my hair and stepped back and sideways, out of
the tub. He I opened my eyes to look at him. He smiled at me. "I love
you, Nan. You may clean yourself, then join me in the other room."

"No, wait, please.." I interrupted. "Wait for me,
please...Sir?" The word felt sweet on my tongue; I savored it, longed
suddenly to say it over and over again, to repeat it in time to blows
from his hands. "I promise I'll be done quickly...."

Phillip paused, waiting to see what I would do. I knew he
expected me to shower quickly before joining him, but I needed the
bath water. I bent low and splashed it over my face, my neck, into my
hair. Tasting it a bit, I couldn't catch even the faintest hint of him
left behind in it, but I knew -- _knew_ -- and the rinsing was like a
baptism, washing away the weekend's hurts. Nine time I rinsed myself,
kneeling down in the bath, mouthing to myself prayers to Oshun and to
Phillip.

When I was finished, I knelt back up and tilted my head to
look at Phillip. He extended a hand to me and I rose from the bath,
stepping out of the water onto the bare tile. I dripped water behind
me as he led me out of the bathroom and back to the bed, where he took
from me in equal measure to what he'd given.