Surreptitious Love Ch. 21

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Chapter 3 — Grey Clouds are Passing

After the zesty afternoon during which I fucked Tuyet’s mother, Tuyet wrote me an SMS saying that she wasn’t gonna see me for a while. Well, that was understandable, but I still thought I should have a chance to explain myself. Anyway, in the meantime, I wondered how this whole incident had changed both, the situation and the mood at her house. Was her mother frolicking like a young girl as she had unexpectedly gotten laid? Did Tuyet’s father suspect anything? Was her mother sore that Tuyet was fucking a man slightly older than her dad? Unmarried Vietnamese middle-class women still, to this day, weren’t supposed to have sex, period, but if they did nonetheless, shouldn’t it be with a man of their generation?

I had been looking forward to the afternoon with Nguyet and Tuyet, during which the former would portray the latter—quite possibly naked—but now I couldn’t even be sure if that would actually materialize. I didn’t have any concrete plans for that day, which I had anticipated for several months, but Nguyet and Tuyet really seemed to like each other, and so I was sure an afternoon together would be exciting and sexually gratifying. Well, if I couldn’t make up with Tuyet during the next two weeks, I’d ask Nguyet to be the arbiter.

A few days later, Tuyet texted me that she had seen Vu. She didn’t say they had fucked, though. She probably only told me to tease me or make me mad. Well, if they had had sex, we were even now, weren’t we? Anyway, I didn’t want to ask her if Vu had banged her but, instead, suggested driving out to the countryside, perhaps to her grandma’s house, to talk matters over. After that, I thought we should just file the case. The funny thing was that neither Tuyet nor her mother knew exactly what I had done with the other. I thought they both must be curious about what they had missed.

Eventually, Tuyet agreed that the soothing atmosphere of the rural landscape west of town was the best place to sit down and reconcile. We could eat at her grandma’s house and then go up the mountains. When she said that I knew she had already backed down. Ok, so we would live through that infamous afternoon with her mother once more and then let go. All in all, however, I liked how piquant the whole story was.

The morning we met, Tuyet said she wanted to go on my motorcycle, so she was waiting for me at the coffee shop near her house. Her mom and her grandparents were at home, but she didn’t want them to meet me, which was fine. Tuyet looked rather conservative that day, with her tight, dusty pink T-shirt and long, light linen skirt that went half-way down her calves. She was also wearing new sandals with thick, white soles. She greeted me half-heartedly and sat sideways on the backseat. She wasn’t holding on to me; I guessed I had to earn that again. Well, at least we were spending time together.

“Do you wanna stop somewhere and drink something?” I asked.

“Well, if you want,” was her curt reply.

Well, that wasn’t very helpful. Anyway, I had a blanket under the seat and would just get sugar-cane juice at the stand where we had stopped the previous summer, where I had explained the female reproductive system to her. Then we would go to the two ancient trees that looked like an old couple. I thought that was better than going straight to her grandma’s. When I stopped at the little juice joint and shared my plan with her, she agreed surprisingly quickly.

Now, she was holding the juice, as we were chugging along. She had already started to hold on to me again, at least once in a while. I was pretty optimistic that we’d be on good terms again after lunch. As far as I remembered, today she was close to ovulating, though, so we had to devise some love play that involved other orifices than her pussy. I asked her about that as I was driving, but she only told me that fucking wasn’t on her mind anyway. We had to talk first. Ouch.

When we got to the two trees, I spread the blanket and we sat down. Luckily, the ground wasn’t as uneven here as it had been up in the mountains last summer. We hadn’t seen anyone on our way, and it was peaceful and quiet. We both took a gulp of our juice, and I lied down on my side, propped up on one elbow.

As soon as we had settled, Tuyet kicked in the door, asking: “Did you really fuck my mother during that half-an-hour I was gone?”

Well, I could have lied, but since her mother’s dress had been crinkled and Tuyet’s bed had looked a mess—I had forgotten to tidy things up before I went downstairs—Tuyet could put two and two together. She wasn’t stupid. And her mother had been in an exceedingly good mood when Tuyet had gotten back, so that was another indicator that something out-of-the-ordinary-good must have happened.

“Well, I wish I could deny it,” I still shillyshallied. I tried to treat this whole thing with humor, which didn’t seem to fly well with her, however.

“I can’t believe it,” she was huffing. “I know we escort izmit are ‘just’ having an affair, we’re not a couple, but I love you, Ben. That you also love your wife and Nguyet is fine with me, of course. Nguyet’s great, beautiful and everything. But my mother?! You. Fucked. My. Mother?! Did you really have to do that?! Oh, please!” she exclaimed with a mix of anger, disappointment, and sorrow.

I sat up, rested my body on my arms behind me, and stretched my legs past her. Hers were on my left. I could have touched her feet, but I didn’t think that would have been a great idea at that moment.

“Tuyet, I love you too. As much as a married man in his late 40ies can love a very young woman with whom he experiences great things but has no plans for the future with. Please understand,” I was imploring her, “that I only fucked your mother so she wouldn’t blather and tell everyone that we’re having an affair.”

She was thinking for a while but then threw up her chin: “I don’t think my mother would have told anyone,” she said with certainty. “I think she’d be embarrassed,” she added.

“Well, maybe not today or tomorrow, but at some point, when she’s angry at you, she’ll hold it against you, tell your dad, or whatever. Let’s say she’s mad because you’re refusing to do something. I can see the whole scene in my mind’s eye: She wants you to go somewhere and you refuse, and then she blows and says something mean along the lines of ‘Yeah, you just wanna go and fuck that English teacher again.’ And then your dad wants to know more, yadi-yadi-yada. Or she’ll tell your grandparents.”

“Well,” Tuyet replied, “my mother rarely yells at me.”

“Yelling or not, I just watched her boss you around in your kitchen. You have a strong will, which will get stronger the older you get. One day, some situation will get out of hand, and she’ll remind you that you didn’t play by the rules but chose to assert yourself and have sex way before you’re supposed to. You know how it is: People who feel unhappy or dissatisfied often do not work on themselves but rather try to pull others down.”

I reached forward and touched her calves but she wasn’t going to have it. She pulled her legs back and put the soles of her feet together, which made her legs form a perfect square, with her knees pointing outward. As, apparently, she didn’t want to be touched and was pondering something. I pulled my legs back for now.

“Ben, I still think you could have said ‘no’ to my mother. Maybe kiss her and then remind her that you’re married,” she suggested.

“Of course, I’m married. But imagine, last summer at the old house, I had told you that we had to stop because I was married. You fantasized about us fucking, and so did your mother. Like you, she wanted everything, not just a kiss.”

Tuyet was shaking her head again. “My mother. Fucking. I still can’t believe it. Was it good, at least?” she asked with a sarcastic, cynical undertone.

“Do you really want to know?” I was in the mood to tell her everything, no holds barred.

“I don’t know. But tell me one thing: Who started it? Were you looking at me thinking that you wanted to do my mother? Were you waiting for me to leave? Did you jump onto the bed and touch her as soon as you heard the door close downstairs? Or did she initiate it? Did she signal that she wanted it?”

“It was her. She dressed sexily and touched me here and there down in the kitchen already. And then she did something I’m not sure I want to tell you.”

“What was that?” Tuyet hissed. “Don’t hold back! Spit it out!”

“Did you know that she wasn’t wearing any underwear?”

“Holy moly! My. Mother. No panties!”

This seemed so absurd to her that it was almost humorous. Maybe she thought that in some way this was so fucked up that it was already cool again. But I didn’t fully trust that change in mood. She could revert back to being surly at any moment. And the story with the panties—or, better: without the panties—wasn’t complete yet. Should I tell her what her mother had done on top of that?

“Hang on. Wait a minute! How did you know that she wasn’t wearing panties?” She had spotted the glitch in the story already. “Did you lift up her dress, when you heard me close the metal door downstairs and thus you knew I was gone?”

I put my hands on her knees but she didn’t want them there. Quickly, she put her wrists underneath mine and threw my hands off violently.

“What? Yes or no? I want to know if you lifted up her dress! Or did she do it?”

“Remember how she had placed herself on the bed. She had her back to me, but she pulled her dress up and lifted her butt bit by bit. Did you see how she kept working her dress up?”

“Yes, of course. I thought it was pretty crass. Kinda gross, actually. You could see her complete thigh the whole time.”

“Well, not only her thigh but also or hairy butt crack.”

That hit her really hard. That was quite a blow. She turned pale and quiet and looked like she izmit escort wanted to throw up. I put my hands back on her knees; this time, they could stay.

“That cheeky thing,” she said. “Slut …” Now, she was speechless and I was afraid she might start to cry.

“Well, we all have our desires, and those that are the most fun are either illegal or shunned by society. You take your panties off in public quite a bit yourself,” I reminded her.

“Nonsense. That’s different,” she said angrily. “Well, did her hairy ass turn you on?” she wanted to know now.

“Of course. You’ve seen Nguyet’s little hairy crack. I think it’s marvelous. You know how much I like her.”

“Nguyet is a beautiful woman. That’s different. By the way: When are we going to see her?” she changed topics all of a sudden.

“Next week, after you’ve stopped ovulating,” I suggested.

The change in topics caused a swelling in my pants. She had her forearms on her knees, and if her skirt had been shorter, I could have seen her panties.

“Hey, show me your legs!” I tried to take advantage of her change in mood and topics. I thought we had exhausted the story of me and her mother and tried to steer away from it. Tuyet was incredibly beautiful the way she was sitting here. I was absolutely smitten again by her choice of outfit. I would have done almost anything for her. Sometimes, I was almost angry at her how beautiful she was. It was unreal how one human being could be so tantalizing and titillating.

She pulled up her skirt half-heartedly and her legs closer to her body; now, she opened them and let me move closer. We looked around to check if we were alone; we hadn’t seen anyone for an hour or so. I actually stood up to make sure, and while I was up, I took off my pants and underwear. Right away, I put my shorts back on, but left the fly open. My cock needed some fresh air. I sat down again, and my dick was sticking out of my pants, pointing at her bellybutton.

“Do you wanna put it in my mother, perhaps?” she asked cynically.

“Oh, please, Tuyet, shut up now, will ya? You’re causing this stiff dick here, even with your conservative clothes still on. I haven’t even seen your panties yet today. Your mother had to use bigger guns.”

I was hoping my joking wouldn’t backfire, but she wasn’t saying anything. She just looked at my dick like she didn’t care. I pulled my foreskin back and, after a while, started moving it up and down. She was watching me but, again, wasn’t showing any reaction whatsoever. All that was moving was my foreskin. I moved a little closer towards her, between her legs. My glans was about seven or eight inches from her bellybutton.

She still wasn’t saying anything, while I was jerking off close to her. Finally, she pulled her skirt back nonchalantly so that I could see her white panties. Underneath, her pussy was completely flat, like tucked away and closed for the day. There wasn’t a single hair either. She looked like a painting. Surprisingly, I found myself liking this arrangement, partially because one couldn’t wish for it. You couldn’t tell anyone ‘Hey, can you keep your clothes on but show me your crotch so that I can jerk off and come on it?’

And an opportunity like this would never present itself again, I supposed. Seemingly, she wanted to punish me for fucking her mother by letting me ‘only’ jerk off to the sight of her. Well, at least, I was looking at one of the most beautiful creatures I had ever met. She was turning me on tremendously and she knew it. I, in turn, would splash my cum on her panties. Fine.

“You’ll let me know when you’re about to come, won’t you?” she demanded. “And, no, not on my face today. I’ll kill you,” she added.

I knew I wasn’t gonna be able to hold back for much longer. I was wanking faster now, nodding at her. She held her skirt up so that I wouldn’t splash onto her shirt. She was looking over the seam of her skirt, which was covering her chin and mouth and reminded me of a puppet theater. I knew that I wasn’t supposed to splash my cum onto her panties as she was ovulating, but I didn’t feel like just coming on the blanket or the grass. I wanted to get something out of it for myself.

When I felt my sperm rising, I leaned forward and pressed the tip of my dick down so that it was pointing at her crotch. I splashed profusely, perhaps seven or eight times again, just like the week before when she wanted to get everything on her face. Her panties soaked up most of the cum, but a little started dripping on the blanket right away. Oh, well.

When I looked at her face, she seemed already somewhat amused again. She let the skirt drop casually and just said: “Let’s go! I’m hungry.”

We packed our things and got on the motorcycle. I was surprised how nonchalant she was about her cum-soaked panties. Well, she must have been horny too; she just didn’t want to admit it. She would wash her underwear at her grandma’s house and then hang it up to dry. Yeah, and then izmit kendi evi olan escort she would walk around without any underwear for hours—but when her mother presented me her hairy butt crack it was the worst thing in the world.

“Hey, what was so great watching me fap?” I asked, turning around as we were driving.

“Remember what we always did in school?” she laughed. “It was like a flashback to those days.”

“But didn’t you use your hands to jerk the guys off back then?”

“Not always. If I didn’t like the boy too much, I only let him look at me but didn’t touch him,” she giggled. “I just watched him jerked off.”

Admittedly, the ‘when I didn’t like him too much’ hurt a little, but as we truly seemed to be on better terms again, I let it slide. When we got to her grandma’s house, no one else was there but her. Tuyet’s grandma had eaten already, however, so I smoked a ciggie before I went in.

I could smell the food at the door, but when I turned to the left, I was stunned. Tuyet was still wearing her T-shirt and squatting over a big bowl naked from the waist down, scooping water over her pussy with her hand. She looked absolutely beautiful and super-hot at the same time. She glanced at me but kept going, so I just grabbed her panties, which she had washed already, and draped them over two hooks on the wall to dry. Now, she got up and emptied the water bowl, before she checked on the food, still half-naked. Then she went into her grandma’ bedroom to look for something to wear, I supposed.

When she came back, she had wrapped a colorful cloth around her hips. It wasn’t a skirt but it would do for now. Her beautiful linen skirt was draped over the back of a chair; she hadn’t washed it, but only treated the few specks of cum with water. It would be dry before we had to go back. She took the pot off the cooker and handed me chopsticks and bowls. We sat down at the table like the last time, next to each other with our backs towards the door.

“Your grandma is sleeping?” I asked.

“Resting, I would say. We talked when I was in her room. But she might pass out any moment now.”

“Have you talked about last week with your mother? I mean, did she bring it up and ask what we did when she had been away?”

“Well, not really,” Tuyet said. “But she asked if I loved you. When I said I did, she cautioned me since ‘the two of us don’t have a future together.'”

“That depends how you define ‘future’, I guess. I can see us frolicking for another few years. But I know what she means: marriage and children.”

“Yes, but neither you nor I want that. And we know it, even though we’ve never talked about it,” Tuyet replied. “And then she wanted to know if we had kissed already and if we touch each other sometimes. Is she really that naïve? Come on …”

“Well, I think she knows that we fuck. It’s just that she can’t ask directly. It’s, obviously, a radically new situation for her. At least, she won’t spread any rumors now. She’s probably gonna repress the whole incident. Or do you think she wants me to come around more often now?”

“Would you want that?” Tuyet asked back.

“Just imagine: a threesome with your mom!”

“Oh, Ben, don’t be ridiculous! I don’t even wanna imagine that. No, you’re not coming back to my house unless I’m the only one there and the rest of the family is in a different town, like over Tet.”

“That’s fine. I wasn’t serious about the threesome. I don’t wanna keep banging your mother. I want an affair with you. And Nguyet, of course. But she’s six months pregnant.”

I reached around her waist and pulled her closer. My dick made its presence felt and I knew she wasn’t’ wearing anything underneath. I pulled the knot on her hip, she stepped out of that wrap-around skirt and sat on it after she had folded it twice. Her young body just looked stunning. Her folding the cloth told me that she was finally up again for some action. I took off my pants and sat on them. I began massaging her breasts and we kissed profusely.

Out of breath, I asked her: “Did you fuck Vu last weekend?”

“What do you think? I was miffed and horny. Of course, …” she was teasing me.

“You wanted to, but then something made you stop,” I surmised.

“Well, something like that. He said he was busy and I also thought of Phuong. She needs dick more than I do. I want Vu to fuck Phuong more or even them become a couple.”

“Hey, take off your shirt. Let’s get naked.”

“Well, we are at my grandma’s. Just in case she shows up, I’ll leave it on.”

When she lifted herself up a little to reach for the toothpicks at the other end of the table, I put the tip of my middle finger in her wet, sticky pussy. She shrieked, turned around, and stuck out her tongue. We laughed, and I licked my finger. It tasted milder than Nguyet’s juice. After she was done cleaning her teeth, she got up and took the dishes to the kitchen corner. She was walking like a super model on the runway, and her little ass looked super-hot. Her dark bush between her long white legs was swaying on the way back. Superb! Oh, how she enjoyed making me hot.

“And now?” she asked when she sat down again.

“As we can’t fuck today, what about blowing me?”

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