Surreptitious Love Ch. 84
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Chapter 84 — A very special massage with Mrs. Yen and Hanh
The massage I had had a few days back with Mrs. Yen and our young, blind friend Hanh couldn’t find its continuation immediately, as the former was menstruating this week. Of course, one day Mrs. Yen and I needed to fuck during her period, but she had been right: Hanh didn’t need to be there. And so we postponed our reunion by several days, during which Mrs. Yen told me a few more details about the girl.
Hanh was living with her mother and aunt, but her father had already passed away. She didn’t have any siblings and had attended a special school for the blind in Quy Nhon, another medium-sized city in central Vietnam. Her family was receiving some widow’s pension and, as a result, didn’t have any financial worries. Since Mrs. Yen had brought up her menstrual cycle, I inquired about Hanh’s as well, but only got a mocking, or even indignant ‘I could ask her, but I don’t think we need to know that, do we?’
Mrs. Yen was right here, too: Hanh had stepped into our relationship to garner experience massaging men as well as some ease when dealing with them. As far as I could see, sex didn’t seem to be on her agenda, which was a trifle disappointing, though. Hanh’s aunt had a massage salon only for women at the moment, but she seemed to consider opening it up for men, too. There were many massage salons in our town where the midsection of the body was spared on principle, but Mrs. Yen didn’t know what exactly Hanh’s auntie’s plans were. There was certainly more money to be made if men could get their dicks stroked but, I have to admit, I grew a little trepidatious imagining Hanh giving out handjobs (or more!) left and right. Perhaps they should just stick to women?!
Nonetheless, I liked the idea of Hanh practicing sensual massages on me. However, I promised myself to not be rash or forceful, particularly not as she was blind. I would wait patiently until she signaled what she wanted and that she was ready for the next step. If ever. And our host, Mrs. Yen, was definitely hot enough, and I didn’t want her to grow jealous or upset: I was still grateful that she had let me massage her daughter Linh, who was one of my former students, back in late November, which had led to half-a-dozen outrageously rousing afternoons.
This time, Hanh was going to be at Mrs. Yen’s house already, the host had told me. I was to arrive for lunch at 11, after which we would go upstairs. The last few times we had done it twice: once before and then again after lunch but, perhaps, today we were going to do it only once. I didn’t know if the two of them were going to massage me again, but maybe it would be better if Hanh and I massaged Mrs. Yen? Or we’d massage Hanh, for a change? But I had to admit I wasn’t as good as they were at the trade.
Perhaps Hanh was going to undress earlier today, so that I could admire her cuddly, tight body? Ten days ago, I had only briefly seen her naked; I had touched her ever so slightly but not kissed nor touched her pussy lips. Well, perhaps I could demonstrate Hanh how to massage a snatch properly? Perhaps she already knew that, though. If she did, couldn’t her aunt scrape her plans to open up her salon for men and offer pussy massages, instead? I immediately imagined how the female haut monde of our nondescript provincial town would pass the secret on to each other: whispering behind their husbands’ backs, blushing, with puckered lips, murmuring mysteriously.
And if Hanh liked massaging pussy, we could do her own the next time. Or, Mrs. Yen and I let her participate in intercourse in one way or the other, depending on how comfortable she would be with what was going on. I mean, she couldn’t just watch porn and was probably relatively inexperienced at her age and in her situation. As I knew the Vietnamese, her mother probably hadn’t divulged a lot about sexuality–although her aunt might have made up for that. Perhaps Hanh didn’t know exactly what happened when I stiff cock entered a hungry sheath. And she had to be there anyway: neither Mrs. Yen nor I were callous enough to send her out of the room, so that the two of us could fuck.
Well, we would see how the day developed. As always, I didn’t want to plan too much but couldn’t wait to see Hanh, of course. Mrs. Yen was the most beautiful woman of her generation, but she was my age, about 50, and I had always preferred to introduce young, inexperienced women to the range of sensual pleasures, as that was more touching, more exhilarating, titillating, and tantalizing. That Hanh was blind only added to the allure. I adored her compact, sexy body, which smelled lovely and exuded a subtle sensual greed. Perhaps not today, but soon I would try to meet her by herself, so that Mrs. Yen didn’t have reasons to be jealous.
And so I rolled onto Mrs. Yen’s front yard just before 11 and quickly disappeared inside the house. The door had been half-open, but Mrs. Yen pulled it closed behind me once I was inside. When I stepped into istanbul travesti the kitchen and said ‘hello’, Hanh smiled in my direction, and I sat down on the chair that was closest to me: the one on which I had fucked Mrs. Yen from behind the second time I had been here. In my mind’s eye, I instantly saw her daughter Linh in her skimpy house dress masturbating to the rhythm in the other chair over there, where Hanh was sitting.
Hanh was more endearing than Linh, though: she more petite, a little younger, with a more feminine, curvier body. Today, Hanh had her hair pinned-up on the back, while her longest bangs again framed her pretty face beautifully. Hanh had even applied some lipstick today, even though that dark pink didn’t seem to be the best color for her. She had also missed the corners of her mouth but hey, man, she was blind, so applying make-up couldn’t have been easy for her. Anyway, she looked lovely and ravishing.
I loved Hanh the way she was. She was wearing a dark-blue T-shirt with some white print on the front and mauve-colored jogging pants. The color reminded me of the bra that I had once bought with my niece Giang. Gosh, I hadn’t seen her for a long time and promised myself to give her a buzz. Hanh was holding a glass with cold tea in her hand, from which she took a sip from time to time. While Yen was frying fish over at the stove, I reached across the table to caress Hanh’s small hand.
Clumsily, we exchanged some words, until Mrs. Yen said that lunch was ready. Hanh wanted to go to the bathroom, however, and our host nodded in my direction to accompany her as she was busy herself setting the table. So I grabbed Hanh’s hand and we walked back to the small bathroom here on the ground floor. I opened the toilet lid, but when I turned to leave her alone, Hanh told me to stay. She pulled her sweatpants down together with her panties and sat on the throne.
That wasn’t exactly erotic, but it was still endearing and hot, in an odd way. I was moved that she let me be part of her routine and handed her some strips of toilet paper when she was done. She took her time pulling up her pants, so that I could take good look of her pubic triangle, at least of the lower half of it, as the upper part was covered by her T-shirt. Her little bush looked utterly charming. I was tempted to kneel down or at least bend forward to see more, but I didn’t.
Surprisingly, her pussy hair seemed to reach all the way around her snatch down to her perineum, which reminded me of her long bangs that framed her face. The last time, when we had taken a shower together, I hadn’t noticed how dense her little bush was. I put some strands of hair behind her ears and then kissed her on her head, as short as she was. When she had arranged her clothes again, she extended her hand and we went back to the kitchen, where I delivered her straight to her chair.
Of course, I sat down again on ‘my’ chair, too. Mrs. Yen had put everything on the table in the meantime, and I saw that she had made fried corn pancakes. Hanh and I had communicated in a curious mixture of English and Vietnamese during those few minutes in the bathroom, and so I asked myself how good her English actually was. But just when I wanted to ask her, our lovely host had taken the word, and I didn’t want to be impolite and interrupt her.
So we chatted in Vietnamese about the weather and Hanh’s family. When I saw that Hanh was eating with her hands, I followed suit and dunked the little corn cakes, which reminded me of potato pancakes, in the two sauces on the table. Mrs. Yen was wearing a casual, crimson-and-cream outfit and reminded me of an IU cheerleader. She looked enticing, if not hot. Apart from alluring figure, the lunch didn’t have anything particularly sensual about it, and if anyone had entered the kitchen at that moment, they wouldn’t have been able to tell what debauchery was to unfold.
“Are Hanh and I going to massage you today?” I asked Mrs. Yen.
“Yeah, maybe,” she replied somewhat cryptically.
The Vietnamese said ‘maybe’ a lot, even when it was entirely absurd, as in either-or-questions. As opaque as Mrs. Yen’s answer had been, she now opened the laptop and typed something. I read that Hanh had ‘studied podology’ and frantically tried to remember what that was. But then it came back to me that that was probably foot massage.
“She has completed a training in foot massage?” I typed now, just to make sure.
After Yen had read my question, she nodded and typed that all students at the school for the blind completed a vocational training. I wanted to ask what occupations they could train for, but Yen got up and cleared the table. And so I stood up, too, and went over to Hanh. When I touched her hand, she also got up from her seat. Just like ten days earlier, I held her hand the entire way up the stairs, where we went into the large massage-/bathroom, where Mrs. Yen washed her feet and Hanh her hands, before the former lay down on the massage table.
She adjusted herself so that istanbul travestileri her feet extended beyond the edge a bit. She hadn’t taken her clothes off, like Hanh was simply going to massage her feet. I wasn’t sure what they needed me for but had a hunch that the whole event was going to pick up steam soon. At this point, I was unsure if they wanted me to undress, but it was rather balmy here in the bathroom so I disrobed. When Hanh took her sweatpants off as well, I knew that I had made the right decision. I had kept my underwear on for now, however. Now, Hanh asked Mrs. Yen to turn onto her belly, which she did, before she put her forearms under her chin and closed her eyes.
I positioned myself next to Mrs. Yen’s knees and watched Hanh oiling her hands. She started her massage on Yen’s calves, and I still couldn’t get over her long bangs. Why didn’t more women wear their heir like that? I also loved Hanh’s upper lip, which swung upward, so that one could always see her perfect upper four front teeth. Pretty focused, with her tongue between her teeth, Hanh was increasing the pressure on Yen’s skin, while I was tempted to caress Yen’s legs, too. But maybe that would have messed up things a bit, so I refrained.
I just positioned myself next to Hanh to be able to watch her better. She had noticed, apparently, as she was looking up at my face and smiling from time to time. I was impressed how strong her small hands seemed to be and fell in love with her slim, ever so slightly hairy forearms. I looked at Mrs. Yen’s calves and then further up her legs towards her butt and saw that her little pants were stuck in her butt crack. Absentmindedly, I noticed the blood vessels in the hollows of her knees but was happy that they weren’t varicose veins.
While Hanh was massaging Yen’s feet, her small boobs were bobbing to the music. I wanted her to take her T-shirt of but it didn’t feel right yet to put in a request. It would probably be better to start the love-play with Mrs. Yen anyway. Bordering onto boredom, I relieved myself of my underpants, which Hanh had heard. Perhaps Mrs. Yen too, as she turned her head and then put it onto her other cheek. My cock was large but mostly still resting nicely on my ball sack here in the balmy, pleasantly warm bathroom. I went to the toilet to pee, while Hanh seemed completely focused and kept massaging carefully.
Sitting on the throne, I could see a bit of naked flesh between the waistband of Yen’s pants and her top, where I then put my hand when I got back from peeing. As she didn’t protest, I took some oil and rubbed it onto my hands, before I began to caress her back. Somehow, it felt stupid to just be standing around. When I put my hand under the rubber band inside her little pants, she didn’t flinch either, and so I continued, ending up at her bra-fastener. My dick had pumped itself up in the meantime and protruded horizontally into the room.
As much as I liked Hanh, I went back to her and put my chin on her shoulder. I also wrapped my arms around her sweet, tiny belly, and eventually my hand slid upward on the front, under her T-shirt. I circled her bellybutton, which made her giggle, but then she bent sideways. Perhaps out of some professional ethos, she said:
“Not now … not yet.”
I felt my glans was touching Hanh’s back between her polo and her panties but then I decided to let her do her job and went back to our lovely host, whom I put a strand of hair behind the ears, slumbering as she was. I was moved to see her serene face, which indicated how much she was enjoying everything. Had she actually fallen asleep? No, she opened her eyes a few seconds later, and so I stepped directly in front of her. Like some predator, she incredibly quickly snapped my dick, pushed my foreskin back, giggled like a teenage girl, and took my cock in her mouth. She sucked a bit without moving her head, and I looked back at Mrs. Yen’s other end, where Hanh was still busy massaging her lower legs.
It was perhaps only a figment of my imagination but I felt our energy going back and forth from Hanh to me and vice versa, all the way through our older friend here on the massage table. Hanh was sweating, and so I suggested she take her shirt off, which Yen repeated as she probably knew that Hanh might not understand my botched Vietnamese. Interestingly, Hanh seemed to have been waiting for the cue and did as requested. Just like last time, her bra and panties were a set: this time, nicely simple, mainly black with white hems and facing. And just like the last time, I fell in love with her compact cuddly body and grew increasingly more determined to divulge the secrets of physical love to her. Well, maybe not today, but soon.
Hanh was done for now and asked Yen to turn onto her back, which she did right away. While she was at it, she relieved herself of her top and bra as well, and when she had lain down, I couldn’t wait to touch her. I fetched some more oil from Hanh, who was still at the foot end of the table and then went back travesti istanbul near Yen’s chest. After the oil had warmed up in my hand, I applied it gently to Mrs. Yen’s left breast here right next to me, before I began to circle her areola with my fingertips. Her breasts were absolutely divine: mature and full, but not grossly large, developed to the utmost. Pretty much instantly, her body started to heave.
While I was massaging Yen’s boobs, I admired Hanh’s young, cuddlesome body again. Massaging truly seemed to give her joy; oh, if she would only take off her little bra! But then, on the other hand, I also wanted her to take her time with everything. So I focused back on Mrs. Yen’s superb bosom, her impressively erect nipples, and now also her belly. Interestingly, when my glans touched Yen’s forearm, she didn’t reach for it. Well, to be honest, I didn’t want to come yet anyway but, somehow, it was high time to take care of her pussy now. And so I relieved her of her light little pants, during which I had to pass Hanh. She commented what I was doing with a charming, knowing smile but just kept working on Mrs. Yen’s glorious feet.
I put Mrs. Yen’s shorts on the board under the massage table, and then also Hanh’s polo, which she had carelessly dropped on the floor. When I was standing next to Yen’s hip again, I noticed that her nipples had grown another half-an-inch in the meantime. Otherwise, she was hiding her arousal cleverly; she was lying here like a statue. I saw that Hanh was taking care of Yen’s toes now, but when I looked at Yen’s bush, it was positively steaming. I played with a few tufts of her pubic hair but decided to wait with anything else until Hanh was done with the feet. Growing ever more curious, I bent forward a bit to look between Yen’s marvelous legs and noticed a whitish veneer on her labia.
Ah, fuck it, I thought to myself, and placed one hand between Yen’s legs, which were still pretty much closed, like I wanted to warm my fingers. Now, Yen did twitch a bit but seemed happy with what I was doing. Once Hanh was Done with Yen’s feet, we needed to introduce her to the intricacies of a pussy massage, I decided. I took my hand out from Yen’s legs and got some more oil, while Yen was arranging herself on the table and opened her legs. When I had found her clit, I circled it with the tip of my middle finger and then stroked her nicely bibeveled inner labia, which I liked some much better than Thanh’s.
Yen also had a slimmer, more elegant bush than Thanh, without the need to trim it. Actually, every part of her was classy and tasteful, fully developed and fermented. I pulled and played with her pubic hair a little more and applied some oil to her groins, too, before I began to massage her snatch proper in circles. Almost automatically, my middle finger ended up inside her, and I saw a large, translucent pendant-like drop of pussy juice escape downward, towards her perineum. I caught it and then smeared her own nectar onto her clit, which led to a first quiet cascade of cute, longing moans.
Hanh finally had completed her foot massage and was feeling herself upward, towards me and her older friend’s pussy. As short as she was, she had to step to one side of the table and ended up across from me. Perhaps she wanted to take a break, but the events had gathered speed and momentum, and so I placed her small hand straight between Yen’s thighs, into the center of our universe. When I looked at Mrs. Yen’s face, I detected a mocking but also appreciative smile, which she had flashed me with her eyes closed. She seemed to be ready for anything.
Hanh had begun to explore Yen’s lap and was perhaps comparing her older friend’s snatch to her own. I didn’t know what went on in blind people’s minds when they’re feeling something new. Of course, I couldn’t be sure here, but I assumed that Hanh, with her 19 years, had some experience with her own body. After all, she didn’t seem sheepish at all. And, of course, she must have had a proclivity for tactile explorations of any kind. Right now, she had stopped moving her hand, though, and just seemed to refuel. So I took her fingers and placed them onto Mrs. Yen’s most sensitive parts.
Even though Hanh and I were not particularly artful in our pursuit, Yen’s body–which was at the height of it development and, now, also its arousal–was producing copious amounts of sweet, delicious juices, all meant to enhance our experience. I tasted some, licking it off my fingertips, which prompted Hanh to laugh and Yen to open her legs further. Her labia separated on their own, and I was looking into a ripe, succulent fruit or flower. As Hanh seemed a little hesitant, I rubbed her hand in the juices in and around Yen’s twitching, pulsating snatch.
Yen was moaning considerably and opened her legs as wide as she could, before she readjusted her whole body, like she was getting ready for the next level. When I was walking around the foot end of the table, I saw that she was reaching for my dick but she had to wait. I wanted to embrace Hanh from behind; I reached under her armpits and parked my balls in the dimples next to her spine, five inches above her butt. My dick was squeezed between us, pointing upward, while I encouraged Hanh to push her slim hand inside Mrs. Yen’s wet sheath.
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