Surreptitious Love Ch. 148

Chapter 148 - Interviewing for the new Brothel</p>
Last Wednesday, Charlie and I had made another pilgrimage to the delightful little guesthouse that Nguyet's real estate company had recently acquired. My long-term affair and I were planning to revive our orgy circle there, which had drifted apart over the last few months, by pretending that we were setting up a casual, informal brothel. Nguyet - who euphemistically called it 'meeting place' - was, of course, going to be the bordello queen who would lure a bunch of girls and guys into her lair.
The charming older building was pretty much ideal for what we were planning: with its infrastructure still intact, we still didn't need to be careful with the furniture and all the other things inside, as the building would, in all likelihood, be torn down in a few months. Until then, Nguyet would interview whoever decided to be part of the project, in the order that she deemed most promising. Last week, there had been only one other person, but since this sensual genie had been behind a glory hole, her - or even his? - identity was still hidden.
Nguyet was the uncrowned champion of arranging titillating, sensual situations. She had a vivid imagination and now, setting up a mock-up whorehouse, she was fully in her element. We could be sure that, eventually, she would even find a rousing way to divulge who had been behind that brightly colored curtain last week. Of course, my young buddy Charlie and I didn't know what exactly we could expect from our visit this Thursday, but we were both optimistic that whatever we ended up doing would be captivating and beguiling. I still found the brothel idea one of Nguyet's best ever.
If I had had to guess who to expect this week to join Nguyet, it would have been Hanh, our petite blind masseuse, but I didn't think Nguyet could interview her to work at the place. Wouldn't that be a bit too much?! But then, Hanh's repertoire was limited, anyway; she couldn't just give the role of the cleaning lady or the cook, and a masseuse was what she was in real life. Or perhaps Nguyet would just drag Thuy back into the vortex today, as she had deflowered Charlie last Christmas and, thus, had a very special relationship with him. Thuy wasn't terribly keen on role-plays, though, as far as I knew.
The best thing for Charlie would certainly if Nguyet had arranged for his aunt Yen to be there; under some pretext, of course. Charlie and his aunt had developed a rousing relationship eight months back and once even engaged in intercourse proper, but lately things had turned awkward. It looked like Yen's conscience wouldn't allow her to roll around in bed with her biological nephew, while he believed that a role-play would help her loosen up. Nguyet knew Yen and was aware of how strong the attraction between the two relatives was. Well, we would have to wait and see what Nguyet would come up with over the next few months. I decided not to fan the incest, though, as rousing as it was, since I believed it would be much more beneficial for Charlie if he found pussy outside his family.
Of course, I loved the prospect of slowly getting the gang back together at the charming guesthouse: Nguyet's puppet-master streak would reach new heights, while her virulent exhibitionism would get served as well. On top, Charlie and I could be sure that Nguyet and at least one other woman would be ready for a ribald encounter. I grew more and more curious who we would bump into this week and placed my bet on Hanh, again, as her handicap didn't allow her to seek debauched amusements freely. But then, Nguyet often didn't choose the most obvious option.
In the end, Charlie and I agreed to skip the coffee shop visit again and meet directly at the older B partially, as Nguyet had told me that there would be some snacks waiting for us. Although Nguyet and I were pretending to have just met, we communicated briefly once a week about our next visit, and even though Nguyet never divulged the names of whom we might meet, of course, she kept me abreast of the general picture.
When I arrived at the venue, there was an older blue Yamaha, which looked familiar, but I couldn't say for sure whose it was. Well, we would find out in about ten minutes who was here for the 'interview'. Charlie didn't know, whose clunker it was, and he hadn't seen anyone enter the small building, either. We both lit a ciggy, as I wanted to get the news about Emily and perhaps his gorgeous aunt Yen, before we would go inside.
"Yeah, Emily came over to my house for the first time on Tuesday. My mom looked at her kinda suspicious, at first, but Emily is really nice and, also, a bit older already..."
'Older'! Ha! She was 24 - while he was only 19. I still asked him why that made things easier, though.
?Well, I don't know... if she was only 18, I don't think my mom would have let me take her upstairs to my bedroom in the afternoon..."
"Aah... balgat escort I see..." I nodded and took a good, long drag.
I was tempted to also inquire about the details of the fornication, but decided not to be too nosey. Charlie would tell me more when he'd be ready. And so, I just switched to his favorite topic, his aunt, instead. But he only shrugged shoulders, as there was nothing new, apparently. After a pause, he insisted that he was actually pretty happy with how things were developing with Emily, our calligraphy artist and web designer.
"Well, maybe I should just stop lusting after my aunt Yen... I mean, there are other beautiful women..." he sighed, somewhat naively. "Now that I think about it: It's actually kinda strange that we even had sex once..."
"You can't just decide to stop loving or longing after someone... but, yeah, that would perhaps give you some peace of mind... but then, sex with your stunning aunt was probably the best thing that has ever happened to you, huh?!"
He blushed and nodded, while he was taking the last puff of his cigarette, before he threw it in the gutter.
"Anyway, when are you going back to Saigon?" I asked, partially to get his mind off his glorious relative.
"I'm not going back for now..." he laughed. "Not this semester... I'm doing an internship in Da Nang, instead..."
That was Vietnam's fifth-biggest city and perhaps two-and-a-half hours by train or motorcycle.
"Well, Emily could stay with you there over the weekend... or you come down here for the day... Yen might be more comfortable doing it here, at our new house of ill repute, with a bunch of other people around, playing some sort of role..." I chuckled.
He laughed and waived his right hand like he wanted to say 'it doesn't really matter', before he suggested we go in. Of course, the ground floor was again kinda dark and quiet, as there were only two more people in the whole building. But they would, in all likelihood, be upstairs together. When we got to the second floor, Nguyet was indeed sitting with another woman, who I didn't recognize at first. But then, yes, sure: that was Nga, our shy and slightly dopey ex-colleague from the private English school where Nguyet and I had worked together until about five years ago! Of course, I instantly thought that she might have been the one behind the glory hole in the curtain the previous week.
I wasn't going to ask, though, as that would only have ruined the lovely magic of our sensual ruse. Yes, Nga had an older, kinda beat-up Yamaha scooter. Anyway, she was wearing a dark-yellowish dress with worked-into silverish lines, which almost certainly came from the collection of clothes she was selling online. I had always liked what she advertised from time to time on Facebook, even though Nga was too shy to show her - as I found - delightful face when posing with the various items. When presenting her collection, she always wore a kind of bucket hat, which she pulled down almost to her nose, as she believed she was ugly. Well, at least, she seemed to think she had the figure to model clothes. Which was true.
I loved that Nguyet had remembered to reinvigorate our relationship with our bashful ex-coworker and, also, that Nga had agreed to be part of the rumpus. As unattractive as she herself (and others) perceived her, she probably didn't have a boyfriend at the moment. She was from a tiny village southwest of our town and had certainly surveyed the marriage market there multiple times already. As there were currently no suitable suitors - but a strong yearning in her lower abdomen? - she probably was quite happy to get laid in the safe yet adventurous setting of the new brothel that Nguyet was putting on its tracks.
I actually had deflowered Nga about three years earlier, after seeing her thighs for the first time in a Facebook ad for her line of clothes. I had visited her store a few days later but, since she hadn't been wearing that particular pinkish outfit, she had offered to go to her place and change, after I had expressed my disappointment. Later that year, Nguyet, Vu, pregnant Trinh and I had paid a visit to her abode for her birthday, which had ended in a veritable orgy. In other words, Nga was no virgin and once even had offered herself completely to Vu, Hoang, and yours truly during the lockdown last September when Nguyet, Thuy, Anna, and Thanh had suddenly been indisposed because of the strict Corona measures.
Nga was shy but not sexually repressed; nonchalantly, she had taken us guys as often as we had wanted. Rolling round naked on the bed, drinking beer and smoking, we had done it perhaps six times, until Nguyet's colleague Thuy had shown up and insisted to receive the remaining two loads that we still had in store. I would never forget how the young lady that I had always thought of as dopey had nonchalantly - and also elegantly, in many ways - invited us to bang her. As I was batıkent escort looking at her again now, I marveled at her lovely apple cheeks as well as her rather pointy nose and realized that she was super chipper, while Nguyet had notched up her game by wearing that ravishing black-white-and-magenta frock with the egret on the front, which her mother had once tailored for a Japanese lunch at their house.
Said item of clothing looked like a kimono light, and said colors changed subtly into each other from both sides. On the left were Japanese or Korean characters - black on white - while the white bird was, of course, on the mostly black background on the right-hand side. Unlike last week, when Nguyet had looked like the cleaning lady - in her older, nondescript clothes - today, she was properly attired for a bordello queen who was adventurous, eager, open to any kind of debauchery and who couldn't wait to swing her kittel open to present us her large, dense, savory, pitch-black bush.
"Jesus, Mrs. Nguyet, you look devastatingly ravishing..." I heard myself say.
She nodded coyly and rearranged the belt a bit to make sure we could see the onset of her rakish little breasts and her lacy white bra in the long V that wasn't covered by the fabric, before she asked me to fetch four glasses from the kitchen counter for the beer. And, also, the plate with sushi rolls that had been waiting there, as she wanted to finish the interview with Ms. Nga - which was pronounced 'Naa', with a long, deep 'a' sound like in 'rather'.
So, Nga would be working here from now on, which was an exciting, titillating prospect, as she was somewhat inexperienced but curious about sex. She was healthy, relatively tall, intelligent and horny, I assumed, as there weren't too many decent-looking guys her age in her village. Of course, the question was if she liked young Charlie, but since she and I had had sex together on three different occasions, we could still be sure to have our desires fulfilled today. I looked at him, as I was filling the glasses with ice and beer and saw that he was checking her out. But then, Nguyet was kinda stealing the thunder from Nga with her enticing robe, under which she perhaps wasn't even wearing panties.
Well, who could blame Charlie?! Of course, he thought Nguyet was hot. He had a thing for woman 15 or 20 years his senior, anyway, and Nguyet was close to that. But she still had her youthful, trim figure from like ten years ago, and it seemed only a matter of time before she would turn up the heat further, the staunch exhibitionist that she was. She hadn't combined her frock with lacy stockings today, which she had done once at the older Art Deco hotel - where she had managed to let me know without words within the first three seconds after she had pushed the large metal front door open that she had been naked underneath. Basically, with a flick of her slim wrist. Oh, Jesus, this woman drove me insane.
Yes, the only criticism one could have was that Nguyet looked intimidating, perhaps to both, Charlie and Nga. If I had been younger, I would have said to myself that she's totally out of my league. The three of them were chatting amiably but, of course, in Vietnamese, so that I wasn't able to get more than the gist. But Charlie looked spiffy, too, with his new goatee, long hair, and his sharp glasses - like a bohemian. Or bon vivant. I liked that Nga, apparently, had stopped dyeing her hair, and it was also longer now and seemed slightly gelled. She had it in a small loose bun down near her neck, which I saw when she briefly turned her head. Yeah, she looked snazzy, too.
?Yes, Mister Ben, Miss Nga has decided to work for us, I think... but only once a week, on Thursdays during lunch, as she has a seminar nearby..."
To boost Nga's self-esteem, I invited her to get up, so that we could admire her delightful figure. I wouldn't have done that with a young woman who I wasn't acquainted with at all, but everyone knew what we had come here for. In my mind's eye, I saw her lying naked on that large bed in the only semi-furnished room at the old hotel, and my cock began to twitch, before she even had gotten up.
When Nga apologized to use the restroom, however, I looked at Nguyet again. Of course. I could barely contain myself; I wanted to reach under her shirttails and knead her fabulous oval thighs. When Nga was stalking way from us - she had an ungainly gait, like she was unable to bent her knees properly, I realized that her hips had widened since the last time I had seen her. But not too much; just the difference between a girl and a woman. Yeah, her arms always flailed about when she was walking, but that was okay; it actually looked kinda cute. Apart from her funny walk, her body was rather proportional and sexy.
To bridge the time until Nga would be back, I asked Nguyet if she always dressed liked that for interviews.
"Well, no, not really... beşevler escort but Miss Nga and I had been upstairs to check out some of my old clothes, as she said she didn't have much she could wear here... nothing sexy... and that's when I came across this old gown..." she laughed, and her upper lip snapped up onto her gums, where it stayed; just the way I liked it.
"I'm glad you like my clothes..." she added almost bashfully.
?Is the glory hole in operation today?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer.
I mean, who would sit up there in the room by herself, behind the curtain, waiting for action?! As Nga was approaching the table again, Nguyet only shook her head barely noticeably. Anyway, she asked Nga to remain standing to present her finally fully developed female form. Charlie looked at her with an expression close to awe; perhaps Nga's curves reminded him of his aunt. Nga was also almost ten years older than him and, yes, those hips had swayed almost Yennesk when she had been walking towards the table. Nga's boobs were decidedly smaller, though, and she lacked Yen's aura. Still, my young friend?!
All three of us took another sushi piece, after Nga had stepped back about two or three feet, so that we all could see her well. She smiled, which brought out the best in her face: her immaculate teeth, her apple cheeks, and her nose formed a devastatingly endearing combination. And, deep inside herself, she must have known that she had a fine, attractive figure. Actually, she reminded me of Casey, too, at least her hips, although Nga's boobs were decidedly smaller. Too small, almost, to be completely in harmony with her womanly body. Well, perhaps they would grow, too, over the next year or so. But, otherwise: Wow!
I didn't know if that had been intended, but her dress was stuck or kinda glued to her belly, lap, and thighs, like it was electrostatically charged, and I almost lost it right then. Perhaps there was a slight draft in the hall, or something, which we couldn't detect here in the alcove. Anyway, Nga's pubic bone and bush pressed nicely through the thin fabric, which remined me of my glorious young friend Anna, who I had once observed crossing the street in a thin dress on a windy day. Her little fluffy bush had also made an imprint on the back of the fabric, which still was one of the most erotic moments of my life. Hands down.
Jesus! Now, my brain was projecting a longish elegant black triangle onto her midsection, and when I looked again, I also saw her pussy boat hull. Kind of. The way Nga's snatch was protruding reminded me, on the other hand, of my dainty neighbor Linh, whose charming, cotton-panty-clad midsection aroused me every Saturday morning before I went to work. Well, yes, the boat hull between Nga's legs was definitely larger than Nguyet's, but she was also about four inches taller. But, Good salacious Lord! Nga had stepped closer toward the table in the meantime, so that Charlie could see everything better, as he was sitting kinda far way, across from Nguyet, but wasn't he mesmerized as well?!
Now Nga was even swaying her hips and turning her body sideways, without moving her feet, though, while her arms were akimbo. She grinned enticingly, and I was sure that her midsection was already producing lubrication for the good things to come. Oh, yeah, she was ready for a good fuck or two. But how had she managed to get her dress stick to her skin like that? Was there some trick that she had applied while in the bathroom? I would probably never find out, but she looked utterly delicious. She had lovely skin, and long straight arms. But, as far as I remembered, her thigh profile was round, rather than oval - which I preferred. Her calves weren't as nicely developed as Nguyet's, either; they were just conical. And her ankles were too thick, for some reason.
But, of course, that wasn't her fault. The last fact was amplified by the white socks she was wearing, and I remembered the pair of sneakers downstairs that was probably hers; Vietnamese girls loved wearing sneakers and dresses.
?Now, Mrs. Nguyet, when you're interviewing new ladies: what do you emphasize or pay special attention to? Do you have a list that you check off?" I asked to propel everything forward.
"Oh, I'm not even sure if there's such a list," she began. "But, yeah, the lady needs to be able to undress with ease and willing to serve the basic sex fare, so to speak: missionary, kneeling... doggy, I guess it's called... blowjobs, a handjob, you know... but then, what's also important is if she can hold a conversation... and I always look at the legs and underwear..."
?Has Miss Nga undressed already? Have you seen her thighs and panties?" I continued.
Both of them were blushing and perhaps had to suppress laughter: "Yeah, she lifted up her dress when we were upstairs, while we were looking at the clothes..."
Nga seemed relieved and nodded, and now Charlie asked her how old she was. Nga was an English teacher and could easily follow what we were discussing. Charlie's question had sounded a bit like he had only asked to contribute something small to the conversation, though, but when she answered '28', he seemed pleased. But not more.