The Sun in Her Sky Ch. 02

And now, I was on the bed, between her wide-spread legs, ready to shave her pussy. She was on her back, a navy blue towel under her bum to catch any mess before it dirtied the sheets.

I'd bought a men's shaving kit, complete with a soft bristle brush and mild shaving soap. I'd dampened the shaving brush and rubbed it around on the soap to build up a nice lather, and now I was stroking the soapy brush back and forth over Becca's mound and labia. I wasn't in a rush to begin the shaving, and judging by Becca's hungry eyes and increasingly wiggly hips, she was very much enjoying the feel of the badger-hair brush sweeping over the top and sides of her nethers.

I enjoyed grooming her, and found it rewarding to slow down and take my time. I loved brushing her long, beautiful hair, and made time for it every couple of days. I'd always enjoyed shaving her too, though when we were living at my family's house I never felt I could relax and savour it. But now it was just me and my girl, and time was not a concern.

"Keep squirming like that and I won't be able to shave you," I admonished, but gently.

"Mmm...it's really heating me up."

"Starting to feel it, are you? It's been a couple weeks since you grabbed those ankles for me."

"Yeah. The night I moved in. Maybe tonight?"

"Wait a couple more days. I want you out-of-your-mind horny."

She gave sigh that was mixed disappointment and exasperation. "It's not fair! I make you come every morning!" Even in protest, her voice was hushed and barely audible.

I stilled the shaving brush. A moment passed in silence.

"I mean-" she continued, not in time.

"Well, I'm sorry it's such a chore," I snapped. "Never mind, then. Sorry to burden you. I'll look after myself from now on."

"No, that's not what I meant..." Her eyes got wide and panicky. Angry Gwen hadn't shown up in days and Becca desperately didn't want her spoiling some rare intimate time on Saturday!

In truth, there was no way I'd give up Becca's "morning service", regardless of Angry Gwen's caustic bluster. The morning routine had evolved so naturally, with Becca an eager participant. I'd get out of bed and stand on the floor, legs apart. Becca would get down on her hands and knees and lower her tongue to my feet. The sight and feel of her down there literally worshiping my feet as I stood above her was an absolutely perfect way to begin a long day. Such a powerful and erotic feeling. She'd do both feet, then kiss her way up to my pussy and bring me off her her tongue as she knelt in front of me. Over the last few days it had become yet another welcome ritual between us.

The best part was how Becca herself had suggested starting with my feet. She'd remembered how much I loved her tongue on them and had asked me - red-faced with humiliation - if she could start my day off that way! That she'd prioritized my pleasure despite her own embarrassment was a great indicator that her training was moving along well. She was developing the mindset I expected from her - that MY needs, desires and whims were paramount at all times.

Of course, the daily sexual activity, combined my my frequent touches and caresses throughout the day and at night in bed together kept her libido sky-high and her arousal on a hair-trigger. I could soak her pussy with nothing more than a suggestive whisper in her ear and have her moaning needfully with mere nipple play. I could understand her disappointment at being denied yet again. But Angry Gwen would never tolerate complaints.

I roughly wiped the shaving lather off her thighs and sex with the end of the towel. The shave would have to wait for another night. I was kind of bummed about it, I admit. But the point had to be made.

"Wait! Gwen, I'm really sorry. That came out all wrong. I love licking you. You KNOW how much I love it. It's my favourite thing..."

I marveled again at how effortlessly I could control my girl's emotions. Almost like pressing buttons on a TV remote. Her anxiety was at a fever pitch now and the only thing on her mind was making Angry Gwen go away. When that finally happened, Becca would be extra agreeable and receptive to just about anything, alert for any opening that would get her back into my good graces, and quick to seize any opportunity to put a smile on my face again.

"Honestly, I don't know why I bother," I muttered, carrying the shaving kit to the bathroom, with Becca right on my heels, still whispering apologies. I ignored her, stepped to the kitchen and started washing the supper dishes.

I allowed Becca to 'appease' me quickly, and even as I finished the dishes I was 'softening' to her earnest pleas for forgiveness. Sometimes Angry Gwen stayed for a few minutes, sometimes for the entire day - for her to be effective she couldn't be too predictable.

"Maybe I'm just tired from a long week," I mumbled, then fabricated a weary sigh.

Becca saw her opening and jumped on it. "No, it was me! I said it totally wrong, that's all. But please, you know I love licking you. You taste amazing. I love starting my day that way, making you feel good."

"I like it too, but not if you're going to complain about it all the time." Technically, Becca hadn't complained about it even once, but Angry Gwen didn't stand on technicalities.

Becca went up on her toes and put her lips close to my ear. "Let me show you, right here. Please, can I lick your pussy? I want you in my mouth so bad."

I turned to face her and gave her small, forgiving smile. She took that as permission and quickly dropped to her knees on the kitchen linoleum and hooked her fingers into the waistband of my track pants. I was tempted to let her 'apologize' properly, but there was something else I wanted to do while she was still in her hyper-agreeable state.

"Wait...go back to bed. I have an idea and I know you're going to love it," I said.

"Really? What?"

"It's a surprise. It'll be fun."

She was all relief and gratitude as she stood, kissed me on the cheek and hurried back to the bed.

I returned to the bedroom with her and changed into pink cotton bikini briefs and a pink, lace babydoll, then took her cell phone from the charger.

"You look amazing," Becca whispered.

"I dressed just for you," I said, laying it on thick. "I want this to be just perfect."

Her smile was all joy and wonder - she'd managed to banish Angry Gwen in just half an hour and now I was going out of my way to please HER? She probably felt like she'd won the lottery.

I pushed the bed against the wall, then sat on the side of the mattress with my back propped up against some pillows against the wall. I put another pillow on my lap and motioned that Becca should lie on her back with her head on the pillow, resting on my lap. She was only too eager to comply. I half-covered her with a blanket so she was warm and comfortable. Her head on the pillow was just under by breasts - if I leaned forward even a little they would press against her cheek.

"Comfy?"

She nodded, and the grin on her face was pure delight.

"Okay. What's your phone password?"

"Beckster492, with a capital 'B'," she said, sounding a little perplexed "Why? What are we doing?"

I loved how she gave up her password without a moment's hesitation. Obedience to me was almost second-nature to her.

"We're going to check your email, do your social media, that stuff. We can browse the internet together, too."

"Together?"

I gave her an excited smile, then gently stroked her face with my palm. She returned my smile and unconsciously pressed her cheek against my hand.

"I'll read out loud. You can just relax and listen."

"Really?" her smile hadn't faded, but I could tell from her voice she wasn't sold on me reading through her most personal and private stuff.

I nodded eagerly. "I wanted to find something we could do together that was deep and loving. Something that reached a whole different level of intimacy."

"That was so thoughtful. Thank you!" she whispered. Her pretty, brown eyes turned watery. "That's so sweet!" Any hint of objection was gone from her face and voice.

I continued to stroke her cheek and neck with my fingertips. "We can do this every night. It'll be a chance for me to get to know everything in your heart and really be a part of you. An amazing way to finish off every day, just being with you and joining together with you." I delivered the ridiculous lines perfectly, sounding earnest, eager and hopeful.

"Oh...wow," she whispered. Tears leaked out the corners of her eyes and she sniffed.

"What do you think?" I asked, already certain of the answer. "I was worried you might think it was a stupid idea..."

She shook her head emphatically on my lap. "No, never! It's beautiful! I love it!" she said, then sniffed again.

I smiled inwardly. She might have said yes even if she wasn't in a super-agreeable state, but the combination of her vulnerable emotional condition and my over-the-top passionate delivery made her agreement inevitable.

Holding her phone in one hand, tilted so only I could see the screen, I signed in, entered my wifi credentials, then immediately changed her phone password. From now on, only I would be able to sign into her phone. I'd claimed yet another part of her life for myself.

I continued to stroke her face and hair gently as I brought up her email app and quickly scanned the Inbox for anything that needed censoring. But it looked like mostly retail spam. I made a mental note to read through her email and text history whenever the opportunity presented - who knows what gems could be mined from all her past sent and received emails and text messages?

"Six new emails. Hey, I didn't know you had an Amazon gift card balance."

"It's from back in high school. My dad signed me up," she said.

And so it went. I read her the emails, and showed interest in her details. I logged into her social media. She was following a lot of people - both celebrities and old high school classmates - but no one was messaging Becca directly. A good sign. I read her out some celebrity posts and we smiled and laughed together about those.

At about the forty minute mark I moved my caress from her face to her chest, idly stroking the gentle swells of her little breasts with my fingertips, occasionally pinching her fat nipples, bringing grateful gasps. A couple of times I bent low over her face, pressing my breast against her nose and mouth under the pretext of stretching my back. Each time, she delivered hungry kisses through the lacy fabric of the babydoll.

At the one hour mark I brought things to an end, promising we'd do more tomorrow, and asking her if she'd refrain from using her phone from now on so that we could keep things 'fresh' for our special time together every night. She enthusiastically agreed and thanked me for the idea, gushing about how it beautiful it was to spend time with me this way.

I'd been working her tits and nipples gently for almost twenty minutes and her eyes were clouded with ardor. She might have agreed to anything I wanted at that point!

The night had gone so well I decided to reward her. When I told her to get up and grab her ankles, she was in such a hurry she got tangled in the sheets and almost tumbled off the mattress. I kept her in that bent-over position, scoring her pale buttocks with my fingernails until her sweet-scented juices were drooling onto the carpet. It always amazed me how wet my girl got, her pouting labia literally overflowing with arousal. She was panting with need when I finally got around to lightly smacking her cheeks, listening to her count and thank me for every stroke.

And when she had her first orgasm in two weeks, it hit so hard and drained her so completely she collapsed to her knees, twitching and spasming, and it was almost two minutes before she could stand again. I didn't let her shower or even wipe her sticky thighs and pussy before bed; I wanted to spend the night steeped in the smell of her.

Soon the lights were off and her warm, naked body spooned me from behind. I was close to sleep.

"Hey," she whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Am I still allowed to lick you in the mornings? I mean, you forgive me, right? For complaining?"

"Yes."

She was quiet for another few moments.

"For tomorrow, when we're reading my phone? Do you think you could...not wear a top?"

"I think I can do that for you."

"Thanks. I love you," she said, hugging me tightly to her.

I wiggled my bum against her hips in response, and we both slept.

*

I think the new level of "intimacy" we established that night changed Becca yet again.

Her attentiveness increased some more, to the point that she would happily follow me around the apartment. If I was loading or unloading laundry, she was close by, even if it meant chilling her feet on the bare concrete of the laundry room. If I was cooking or doing dishes, she was no more than an arm's length away, frequently wrapping her arms around my waist from behind for a quick hug. When I was at my desk studying, she was on the end of the nearby mattress, hoping to catch even a brief glimpse or smile directed her way. It became easy to give her gentle touches, pats on the bare bum, winks and kisses on the cheek or forehead; she seemed to crave these like an addict and was forever seeking them out.

Our nighttime "phone sessions" became her favourite part of the day, and the one time Angry Gwen had surfaced and ended the evening without a phone session, Becca had cried silently but inconsolably to the point where even I felt genuinely guilty for having caused her such distress. After that, I made the phone sessions sacred. No matter how early or late I came to bed, I made sure to allow at least thirty minutes for Becca to feel secure in that warm connection she felt with me. I was slowly cementing my absolute mastery over her body, mind and heart. I was becoming integral to her identity, something she literally couldn't do without.

The first week, the sessions were very much the way the first one had been, except that I was bare-chested as Becca had requested. She would occasionally raise her head to kiss the undersides of my boobs, or touch them reverently with her fingertips as I read to her. I suppose having her head in my lap made my big breasts a natural target for her attention, and I was happy to allow her these liberties because it made her happy and, hey, it felt good to have my breasts touched.

About the middle of the second week Becca added a second pillow to the one on my lap before she set her head down. This propped her head up enough that the bottom of my breast more or less rested on her face. For a couple of sessions she was content with that, feeling the softness against her cheek, kissing me and inhaling the scent of my skin as she listened to me recite her personal messages aloud from her phone.

At the end of the second week, she took my nipple between her lips during our phone session and kept it there, not sucking, but occasionally running her tongue over it. Intrigued, I allowed it, and the sensations were intense and arousing. I read from her phone, and she lay with her head propped up in my lap, holding my nipple in her mouth, breathing slowly through her nose as I gently stroked her face and neck. By the end of the session I was pretty horny, although it was too late in the evening at that point to contemplate anything strenuous. I did have delightful dreams, though.

And the following night, she fell asleep, still latched onto my nipple. Her eyes drifted shut, her breathing became deep and regular, and next thing I knew, she was out. I continued to read for a few minutes, then turned off the light, slid into bed next to her and slept.

I figured that might have been a one-off, that maybe she'd been especially tired. But no, it happened the next night, and the following one. I'd get about twenty minutes into a phone session and she'd be out like a light, nursing gently on my nipple, her face a picture of serenity and contentment. Looking down at her as she slept, I experienced a strange cocktail of emotion - tenderness, ownership, protectiveness, power and even a sense of wonder. I was no psychologist; I didn't know if her new behaviour was a reaction to something or an expression of some deep-seated emotional need. In any case, I felt I was now central to her sense of peace and well-being.

The phone sessions had another priceless benefit: after Becca was sleeping soundly at my breast it gave me liberty to snoop through many years' worth of her email history, social media posts and text messages.

It was an incredible thrill; I could read every thought and opinion she'd sent or received since her early teens. Her insecurities, her dreams, her teen crushes and high school horrors. It was like someone had handed me the keys to Becca's psyche - everything I needed was there.

Her issues with her mother were deep-rooted and long-standing, dating back to physical abuse in grade school, then constant neglect as mom coped with substance abuse. It gave me a new appreciation for my own less-than-attentive parents and siblings - they weren't the best, but compared to Becca's mom they were a freaking super-family. Becca's dad was probably worse; if I was reading between the lines correctly he was abusive to mom and daughter both.

And it just went on from there. Insecurity about her tiny breasts. Panic when she didn't have her period for two months. A devastating lack of close friends - the more frantically she tried to make true friends, the more success eluded her. During her time in Phoenix, she'd sent many emails to former classmates and so-called friends and received scant few replies, and even those were lukewarm and cordial. In her Drafts folder there were a dozen long, apologetic and agonized emails she'd written to me but never sent. It seems I was her first 'true love'. Pure gold, for my purposes.

I browsed her other phone apps, too. Her banking app revealed that not only was she broke, she'd almost maxed out her over-draft amount. Her camera directory contained hundreds of pictures, including a few underwear and topless pics and a full-body naked selfie she'd emailed to someone dubiously named 'RockCOCK10in' when she was still a minor. Her browser bookmarks included very revealing preferences: lots of lesbian, bondage and watersport porn vids, and in the few I viewed there was always one partner dominating another. There was also a link to a blog heart-rendingly titled '100 ways to make friends in high school'.

On a less delightful note, she'd once referred to me as a 'goal post with udders' in an email to a volleyball team mate. So there was that.

In all, it would take me several weeks to fully mine the mother lode I'd discovered.

*

October ended and November sped along. Every few days it seemed I would find a way to claim another piece of my girl.

I barely needed Angry Gwen anymore; I'd become so adept at pushing Becca's buttons in more subtle ways that Angry Gwen became too crude a tool for my purposes. I'd still bring her out once in a while, when I felt Becca's attentiveness, obedience or effort was lacking, but it reached the point where even hinting at displeasure would have Becca scrambling to apologize and make amends. I could drain the colour from her face with a raised eyebrow or have her on her knees with a well-timed silence. I could scowl and Becca would be too consumed by anxiety to eat or sleep.

I don't want to give you the impression her life was all misery; just the opposite in fact. Her time at the apartment involved long periods of boredom and sleep interrupted by times of happiness, contentment, lust and fun. I took good care of her. I made sure she was well-fed. Our phone sessions filled her with warmth and security. The sex was exciting and pleasure-filled. I don't think I'm being self-serving when I tell you Becca seemed more or less satisfied with her life during my college months.