Chapter 134 — An Inferno over Lunch

Last week, my long-term affair Nguyet had enticed me in a wonderfully languid role-play, during which a long-cherished dream of mine had come true: Nguyet had told me at several occasions during the last year that she had never undressed for Sex with the father of her child. She knew that I found that Hot, and so she had sent me outside to smoke after lunch at the model home, where she worked. In the meantime, she took off her bra and panties in the small bedroom on the second floor, where I then found her lying supine, pretending to be asleep. After admiring the sight of her supple, petite body in her generously-tailored grey-green dress — particularly her prominent mons veneris — I had spoiled her senseless.

I wasn’t entirely sure what I found so fascinating about having Sex with a woman dressed in a night-gown or loose dress, but it might just be my fascination with the fact that Sex was the interface between culture and nature. We either interact with people in a cultural context, for which we are fully dressed, or we have Sex, usually naked. Draping a woman’s dress around her pubic mound to only expose her legs and Pussy was perhaps so Hot as it didn’t remove the cultivated part from her, while exposing her natural side at the same time. In many methods it was similar to Nguyet’s favorite pastime of taking off her panties at coffee shops and other public places.

Early in our affair, this utterly beguiling form of exhibitionism had become a staple of our coffee house visits and, at Charlie’s farewell party two months back, she wore a one-piece bathing suit that was open in the crotch. I couldn’t even tell if Nguyet and I had ever talked about that dynamic between culture and nature, but she seemed to find out it perfectly. When she had placed herself on that bed upstairs the previous week, after she had sent me outside to smoke — which was rather unusual in Vietnam — she had arranged an opportunity that we both had been hankering after for many months. I would never be able to forget her grassy knoll under the thin fabric. Contre jour. And how it then slowly emerged.

When saying goodbye, of course, we had agreed to see each other again this week, as the first installment of our role-play had been so splendid. As we were pretending not to know each other, we hadn’t talked since, which made everything more mysterious and exciting. I assumed that Nguyet, the realtor, would try again this week to get me to buy one of the houses she was selling in the suburbs here in our nondescript town in Central Vietnam, during which encounter, we would charmingly pounce and tear into each other again. Nguyet might complain at some point that I had been too rash and taken too many liberties the previous week, as she needed to harness and bridle our lust to allow the tension to create up. After all, she couldn’t just undress, pull her labia aside, and tell me: ‘Mister Ben, please fuck me!’ — although that would be fucking Hot.

Spending a quiet, slow hour together was what we both needed. Nguyet was still sore that I had been running around with her 18-year-old intern, Casey, quite a bit, which had sapped my sexual energy away from her. What didn’t help, either, was that Hoang, Nguyet’s young lover, had become more drawn towards her sweet colleague Thuy. At least, Nguyet had met a divorced guy named Huy, with whom she probably had Sex, occasionally. But then, Nguyet was certainly envious that Casey could have Anal intercourse whenever she pleased, without much preparation — something that Nguyet was still working on. Perhaps a bit too hard. Her anus felt like a leathery thimble, which I had only entered with my fingers so far. Since Huy’s cock was probably smaller than mine, she might have had backdoor Sex with him in the meantime, though, but since we were pretending not to know each other in our role-play, I couldn’t ask.

Anyway, Casey, on the other hand, seemed pretty chipper, so that we weren’t planning any new sensual adventures. She was spending the weekends at her blind girlfriend Hanh’s house; as far as I knew, she had already stayed there overnight several times. In Vietnam, young unmarried couples had to get a cheap hotel room for an hour or two if they wanted to fuck, but no parent had a issue if a young female friend stayed with their daughter overnight, especially not if the girl was blind. Casey and Hanh probably watched kitschy Korean Love flicks in bed together, during which Casey could read the Vietnamese subtitles to her blind friend. Casey’s dad, who was a Christian, probably considered his daughter‘s altruism an act of sisterly Love. Which it certainly was. On the fact that they also played with their pussies and sphincters, no extra lantern needed to be hung.

When I arrived at the model home just after 11 on Thursday, only Nguyet’s vintage Honda was parked in front of it. In other words, there didn’t seem to be any customers, but I still smoked a quick ciggy, as I didn’t want to step outside again in a minute. While I was happily puffing away, I tried to imagine what might happen during the next hour, but it was hard to envision anything better than seeing her lying quietly on a bed with no underwear, clad only in her thin yet ample dress. Last week, she had kept her eyes closed during the act, and we hadn’t spoken, but we had both felt the oceanic bliss of unencumbered tender Love-making. Today, we couldn’t pretend that nothing had happened but, knowing Nguyet, she would still not let things escalade completely, as she probably wanted to prolong our role-play for another week or two.

Yes, I found it awesome to experience what pretty much every man must have dreamed of at some point: to just bang a Hot flight attendant, an office lady, a hotel receptionist or one at a doctor’s office, a nurse, teacher, or shop assistant. Nice and slow, or quick and brisk. Somewhere in the back or at a hotel nearby. Or upstairs in a model home, on the bed that other customers would look at later the very same afternoon. Incidentally, a few weeks back, I had developed a decent crush on the receptionist at ‘my’ dental clinic. We flirted every time we saw each other, and when we spoke, she all the time touched my forearm gently, which had set my imagination in motion. The young dentist herself was also very nice but in a different way. One pleasant side-effect was that I actually enjoyed gonna the dentist nowadays, but I had promised myself to not hit on lovely, gorgeous Thai, the receptionist, or my rather enticing young doctor Tham, until the whole treatment, which involved a bunch of root canals and the extraction of three wisdom teeth, would be completed.

Inside the show home, Nguyet was sitting at her desk, which Casey had also utilized a few times about a month back when we had met. Nguyet looked up and smiled, for a change, before she refocused on her paperwork. Yes, there was no one else here, and so I plopped down on one of the chairs meant for waiting buyers. She was wearing a grey suit jacket, which was certainly combined with a skirt of the same material, and a light blouse underneath. She had pinned her hair up on the back of her head and now reached for her landline phone, which almost seemed archaic. She was looking at me, while she was listening to the dial tone but then put the phone back down after about 15 seconds, as no one was answering. She looked a tad disappointed and then clicked around on her screen, before we heard Windows shut down.

She took off her glasses, got up, and stepped around her desk. Sure, I could see her knee-length skirt now and was pleasantly surprised that she was also sporting flesh tone pantyhose, which made her light legs appear a bit darker, though. She slipped out of her shoes and remembered to turn the key in the door, before she cocked her head and looked at me challengingly:

“Well, Mister Ben?! What’s up? Are you playing coy?”

Aah. Today, she seemed to feel feistier but sure, why not? I got up and slipped out of my shoes as well, before we went upstairs.

“Do you want me to get take-out for lunch, like last time?” I asked her to be polite, but she told me that there were a few things in the fridge.

Upstairs in the open kitchen, she asked me to sit down and then rinsed the rice, before she turned on the obligatory rice cooker. I was surprised that she hadn’t started her sales talk yet. Or reprimanded me for being too rash the previous week. She took her suit jacket off and draped it carefully over the back of her chair, and I could now see that she was wearing a brightly colored bra under her thin, crème-colored blouse, which was a bit unusual. But sweet. I asked myself if I perhaps could smoke, but since she was taking a few items out of the fridge and got a cutting board now, I didn’t want to stink up the air.

Her light grey skirt fit her perfectly, I wondered, looking at her tiny eleven-inch butt. Her mother had probably tailored the whole suit, and I realized again how perfect her little calves were. Now, she got herself a dark-green apron, but since she was facing away from me, we couldn’t chat easily. Shouldn’t we still make some small talk, though? Well, perhaps not, as that would impede the build-up of our sensual tension. It was pretty quiet; all I could hear was the buzzing of the rice cooker, her cutting, and the heavy trucks over on the highway, 300 yards away, which were few and far in between, though.

I was tempted to get up and stand behind her, with my hands on her slim hips, and rub my cock against her butt — which I would have been allowed to do in real life. For some reason, I had never done that, though. I thought what she might be expecting and decided to go to the bathroom, where I peed and then took off my underpants and stuffed them in my pocket, like I had done a few times at our favorite café with the secluded balcony as well as at the old hotel. That wasn’t quite the equivalent of taking off panties under a dress, but close enough. I mean, if Nguyet was feeling spunky today…

Fuck it! I wondered to myself when I was back in the kitchen and stopped right behind her. With my hands now on her hips, I sniffed her hair, as short as she was, and then bent down to kiss her ear and neck. She twisted her body a bit, away from me, and chuckled briefly, before she charmingly tried to get me away from her:

“Mister Ben! Just wait with that until after lunch… I gotta talk to you before, anyway…”

That phrase was perhaps the biggest mood killer ever, but the way she had said it, she didn’t seem too serious. And so I ignored her plea, as we were here today to flaunt society’s mores and our good upbringing, anyway. So, I let my hands travel all over her slim body, gently squeezing her bra, boobs, and butt cheeks along the way. But when I grabbed the hem of her skirt here in the back and tried to lift it up, murmuring and moaning a few compliments, she turned her head, put on a stern face, and incidentally was pointing her kitchen knife at me:

“Mister Ben! Pull yourself together! You can’t always… look at… always do what comes to your mind… I mean, last week already… you went too far…”

“Oh, please!” I retorted. “Are you saying now that you didn’t enjoy what we did?! I’m not buying it…”

She had turned back to her cutting board, sniveled a bit, and then rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. I reached around her again, and when I placed my hand onto her pubic mound area on her skirt, feeling that half-a-tennis ball again, she explained herself a bit more:

“Of course, I enjoyed it, as I don’t get to experience such nice things often. But I didn’t want you to look at everything so closely. I thought you’d just come on top of me and look at my face… I had my eyes closed the whole time. Didn’t you notice?! I think that’s how it should be… but, no, you had to stare at my body… my breasts… and all the hair down there… I believe you even looked directly between my legs… don’t you have manners?! I mean, we barely know each other, and it was our first time…” she concocted our whole framework in a nutshell again.

Her little rant was so Hot, though, that I unzipped my pants behind her back and got my cock out. Man, was her little fabricated tirade Hot! I reached inside my trousers once more to also get my balls out, before I rubbed my half-stiff cock on her skirt. The fragrant smell of her hair, her fine form, her beguiling, tantalizing resistance, and my demanding touches were doing the rest; my cock was rising and began to throb now.

“So, Sex is perfectly fine, as long as I’m not looking at your body?” I tried to clarify.

I believed I saw a nod, before she added: “That’s what I’m used to… that’s how I’ve always done it with the father of my child…”

Hidden from her, I was stroking my dick now behind her back. We were both heaving and panting quite a bit, and at some point, I reached around her with both arms to unbutton her blouse under her apron, while she ingeniously kept cutting the greens. And so I pulled her blouse out of the waistband of her skirt all the way around and then caressed her flat belly, albeit without being able to see it. Thank God, I already knew what it looked like. With one hand on the front of her skirt, on her lovely mons veneris, I snapped her bra open with the other, which gained me a half-hearted ‘Mister Ben, please! I beg you…’, but no further, real opposition.

Now that her titties were defenseless, I took her nipples between the upper digits of my middle and index fingers and squeezed those little elastic balls between my thumbs and ring fingers. If I wasn’t completely mistaken, Nguyet pressed her little butt upward, which prompted me to lift up her skirt in the back. Eagerly, I now fondled her pantyhose-clad small butt, which stuck in panties with a colorful flower pattern that probably were a set with her bra. As requested, I didn’t look at it much, though, but only massaged it some more, while kissing her earlobe-less ear and neck again.

God, was it lovely to rub my glans on her pantyhose, for which I had to bend my knees, however. Of course, I remembered Mira’s teal-blue lacy tights as well as Thanh’s modified pantyhose with the opening in the front and our titillating hours up on the secluded balcony at our favorite coffee shop. Oh, I had to do something similar with Nguyet soon. Perhaps next week. Or the alluring receptionist from my dental clinic, but she seemed to be married. Or my young dentist, who did not? Anyway, I now pulled Nguyet’s pantyhose and panties down to her thighs and marveled at her firm small butt cheeks as well as her divine, slightly hairy crack.

Those cheeks were positively smiling at me like a pair of fresh rolls, but the difficulty was that I really had to bend my knees to rub my glans in her Anal fluff. Yeah, it wasn’t gonna be easy for us to fuck the way we were positioned, but when Nguyet interrupted her food preparation and propped herself a bit further up on the counter with her arms, my purple tip was touching her anus. She moaned a rather deep ‘I’ll be damned’ or something to that effect back at me but then, nonetheless, pushed her body yet further up on the counter. She raised herself on her tiptoes and even held her skirt with one hand — getting ready for a hearty fuck.

I borrowed a bit of lubrication from her snatch with my fingertip to fondle her sphincter, first. Tapping the puckering thimble, I asked if that would be an option, but she only warbled that my cock would be ‘way too large for that.’ I still entered the little sucker gently with my fingertip, before I bent down as much as needed and finally placed my cock between her wet, black, beveled lips. Ignoring her ‘Don’t you dare!’, I pushed both, my finger and cock, further up inside her and was surprised how relatively easy my finger made its way in. Oh, sweet Jesus, what a treat!

My goodness! We had barely talked since I arrived, but now I was already banging her here at the kitchen counter. My hands reached for her dangling little titties under her dangling little bra and then travelled her back. Nguyet panted and winced, while I tried to get another good whiff of her body odor. Under her apron and blouse, I brushed her whole upper body but then went back from her back to her belly and, eventually, boobs. Panting, she hurled a few adjectives back at me — I believed I heard ‘despicable’ and ‘wicked’ — but overall, she seemed to be thoroughly enjoying our shagging. At some point, she even pulled up her left knee, like she wanted to put it onto the counter. That I wasn’t able to see her naked body didn’t matter; if anything, it added to her allure and the fun.

Even though Nguyet could be quite intractable, she hadn’t shown this side yet today. Well, now that my finger and cock had already been inside her for ten minutes, it would have been slightly absurd, anyway. No, actually she was doing everything to turn our lovely pre-lunch fornication into a truly unforgettable event. She had started bobbing back and down her Ass onto my shaft and periodically seemed to be checking if her body was up high enough on the counter. I was thrusting rhythmically and briskly, but didn’t go berserk with my new real estate queen. When I knew I was about to come, I slowly pulled my finger out of her rectum but left the tip inside her sphincter. For now.

Jesus, that all happened so quickly. Nguyet was uttering cascades of shrill shrieks, which reverberated off the walls. The way we were positioned, I was sure my mushroom glans was polishing her G-spot rather nicely, and my ball sack hitting her clit was doing the rest. After she had screamed toward the exhaust hood above the stove, she hollered at me something like ‘you swine’ — if I had heard correctly. That was probably my handle for the day, which I found so Hot that I instantly climaxed and splashed a formidable load straight up her sheath. Sizzling and seething, my fat white flakes hurled themselves upward, and even when I knew that there was nothing more to come, I still kept pumping, until my plump rod got limp and slipped out.

When she finally turned, we heard a large drop of cum hit the crotch-piece of her panties, but then she realized that my fingertip was still inside her anus. With her mouth gaping, she looked at my arm and then even backward, like she wanted to see how exactly we were still connected. With the other hand, I squeezed her titties a bit through the fabric of her apron, before she stammered:

“M-Mister B-Ben… I don’t kn-know w-what to say…”

When I pulled my fingertip out of her sphincter, I kinda expected a little ‘plop’, which never came, though. Aghast, she watched me looking at my finger, which I then even licked after I had seen that there wasn’t any Nutella on it. Eventually, she couldn’t suppress an ever so subtle impish smile and shook her head. She seemed to want to double-check if there truly hadn’t been anything on my finger but for that it was too late. While she was buttoning her blouse again, her pantyhose and panties were still on her thighs, and I saw another large thread of cum and Pussy juice drop onto the crotch piece. When her bra and blouse were taken care of, she finally deigned to sort out her lower garments, but not without presenting me her dark, wet, glistening bush and her swollen brown labia for a second. Gosh, she was quite something!

“Go and wash your hands! Quickly!” she barked at me, while she was fixing her pin on the back of her head.

While her elbows were pointing at me like a double turret again, I languidly pulled up my pants. She did seem seriously interested in my cock, judging from the look on her face. I asked her what the matter was:

“I’ve told you already… I never saw my boyfriend’s penis… yours is the first,” she lied.