Surreptitious Love Ch. 129

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Eki 16, 2022 // By:analsex // No Comment

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Chapter 129 — Casey

This week, my long-term affair Nguyet and I wanted to meet again for an anal tete-a-tete at the model home where she worked, even though she had admitted that her little bunny snout had been hurting for a few days after the last session. My middle finger had been inside her anus for almost half-an-hour, during which time I had banged her heartily from behind. At least, the one-and-a-half penetration had delivered one of the most intense orgasms she had ever had, Nguyet told me. To give her sphincter a well-deserved break, I proposed to let our tongues do the work this time, but she insisted to also keep going with the penetration, so as to not waste the progress we had already made. But, yes: a little foreplay with my tongue wouldn’t hurt, she concurred.

Our whole anal journey had begun at Charlie’s farewell party about a month back, when I had fallen in love with Nguyet’s colleague Thuy’s soft, wide anus funnel. Unfortunately, Thuy was now working at the company’s headquarters that were almost 10 miles away, which had prompted Nguyet to offer her anus for exploration, instead. As exciting as that already was, there was a second reason, though, why I was pretty happy to see Nguyet again this week: the new young intern Truc, with whom I had connected on social media the previous week. We had already passed a few messages back and forth and were now looking forward to seeing each other this Thursday, even though it would only be for a fleeting quarter-of-an-hour around 11.

Truc — which was pronounced ‘Chubb’, with a ‘u’ like in cushion — was rather womanly for her tender age of 18, without being chubby, though. As I had never seen her naked, I wasn’t even sure how soft her body was in the end; there were also moments when she looked rather firm and athletic. The previous two weeks, we had flirted a bit at the model home where she had been working for a month now, but I still didn’t know if I should ask her out for coffee or just wait until Nguyet would perhaps invite her to join us upstairs in the bedroom for some sensual play. Which was unlikely, however, as long as Nguyet and I were exploring her sphincter.

I didn’t know much about Truc, apart from that she was 18, Christian, and that her family didn’t have much money, which was the reason why she was working at Nguyet’s office: She and her family wanted to spare the expenses for college and had agreed that she would do an apprenticeship, instead. Truc was working in alternating morning and afternoon shifts, and so I had placed my visit on a ‘morning day’ to be able to see her for twenty minutes or so, until she would go back home. The previous week, Nguyet had invited her to stay a bit longer, which Truc had surprisingly agreed to; perhaps she would do it again today. Nguyet had asked me, however, not to rush things with Truc, and yet she had been forced to admit that her young intern seemed ‘ripe’ for her age — not just her body, but also her soul.

When I arrived at the model home, I resisted the urge to smoke and went straight inside to say ‘hi’ to the ladies and be able to spend as much time as possible with young, gorgeous Truc. There was an announcement on the door, which I couldn’t read — and didn’t need to, as it was certainly intended for customers and clients, while I was here for the lead office lady’s anus. After I had stepped inside, however, I instantly noticed that Nguyet was absent. At least, Truc was sitting at Thuy’s former desk, but she was busy with a client. Well, Nguyet could be upstairs in the kitchen or in the bathroom in the back, but it was strange that the rather inexperienced intern was explaining stuff to the middle-aged gentleman.

Truc’s face was as red as a beet, and she was sweating quite a bit, which was amplified by the fact that she was required to wear a mask. She was sporting a tailored black-and grey shepherd’s plaid dress, which would be considered old-fashioned in the West, but I liked it. It was seemly, and I promised myself to take a closer look once the other dude had left. And so I just fumbled a ciggy out of the pack in my shirt pocket and held it in front of my mouth, so that Truc knew where I was going.

Outside, I saw that Nguyet’s Honda wasn’t there, either. Well, she could be showing properties to clients in town. Out of a mixture of curiosity and sporting spirit — and since I had nothing better to do, anyway — I attempted to make out what the announcement was about. Putting some pieces together, I deciphered ‘until further notice’ and spotted the word for ’employee’ as well as ‘Covid-19’, which was easy. Well, perhaps Nguyet got Covid, then? As Truc’s English was excellent, she would update me in a bit.

When I went back in, Nguyet hadn’t showed up, of course, and so I just sat down on one of the chairs in the ‘waiting line’, like any regular client would. As the other gentleman was kind of between us, I couldn’t see Truc too well, but I liked that she had her hair in a ponytail today. The fairly bursa yabancı escort long bangs coming from her temples framed her oval face beautifully all the way down to her chin. Seeing her sweat like that was actually kind of sexy, but I avoided eye-contact to not make her uncomfortable. Instead, I browsed the model-home brochures, which had been fanned out on the chair next to mine, for the umpteenth time.

Truc got up and passed between the other guy’s back and me to get a folder from the shelf to my left; a bit like the last time I had been here. I got ready to get up and assist her, as some of those binders where high up but, this time, she got one from the bottom shelf. When she bent over, though, her womanly bottom looked hot under her generously-tailored dress. I reminisced about last week’s stunt, when she had asked me to get the ‘notices of conveyance’ folder from the top shelf, which she didn’t appear to need. Nguyet had made a mocking comment, but I still liked that Truc had done it. When I saw the bulge of her butt under the fabric, however, I started to seriously wish that Nguyet would be late or not show up at all today.

Yes, like I already said, Truc was well-developed: as voluptuous and succulent as she was, she also seemed almost athletic. Somehow, she had European proportions. Nguyet was barely 5 feet and weighed 95 pounds, while Thuy was even shorter but probably weighed a bit more. Both of their asses were about twelve inches wide; of course, it had hurt when my middle finger had been in Nguyet’s anus for at least 20 minutes, while we had fucked. Truc, on the other hand, reached up to my chin and was thus at least four inches taller than the other two petite real-estate queens. Truc’s waist was about as wide as their asses, while her butt was more than one inch wider on both sides. About. I hadn’t seen it naked yet.

Nguyet had spoken of Truc as ‘almost chubby’ when she had described her to me over lunch, just before I actually met her in person. But nothing could be further from the truth. Just like Nguyet, Truc didn’t have a truly superfluous ounce of fat on her; she was just a different body type. She was taller and had more muscle meat since she was 15 years younger and had grown up during a different era: one of prosperity and not food shortages. Rubens would probably still have ignored her but, no, I was already convinced Truc had one of the finest figures I had ever come across — even though I hadn’t seen her naked yet. Her belly could be as soft as butter or display a six-pack. At this point, it was impossible to tell, especially since her dress was tailored so generously. Jesus, was she hot!

When they both stood up, their conversation was coming to an end. I noticed that Truc’s dress had been ironed meticulously and that it had a black button tape on the front. Her relatively large bosom didn’t stick out that much, but that could have had to do with the checked pattern of the fabric. The white stand-up collar was also kind of cute. She looked spiffy in her dress and with her long bangs, and the strange thing was that even her shiny black mask added to her allure. It made her more mysterious and emphasized her dark, sparkling almond eyes. And, yes, her tanned, long arms and hands also looked healthy and strong, even though the latter were shaking a bit.

Well, this was perhaps the very first time she was working by herself, dealing with customers. Or she was nervous as she knew that she would be alone with me in five minutes — a thought that let my heart beat faster as well. The prospect actually grew to possess my whole soul. And yet she seemed relieved when the other gentleman sorted his copies and put them away in his briefcase. She saw him to the door, and I waited for her to turn the key in the lock, which she didn’t. Of course, it would have been strange for the guy to hear that the young intern locked herself up inside with me. So, I just got up and asked her to remove her mask, before I sat down on Nguyet’s swivel chair and inquired where my hot MILF friend was.

“Mrs. Nguyet went to get a Corona-test this morning… she wasn’t feeling well… and, yes, she’s got Covid-19…she called about an hour ago…”

Was there a ghost in the house? Didn’t I hear a short, faint snicker?

“Oh,” I exclaimed a bit exaggerated. “Is that what’s posted on the door outside?”

“Yes, that says we’re only working with a skeleton crew… basically, just me…” she giggled.

“The most beautiful skeleton…” I quipped, which she ignored and only brought the folder back to the shelf.

Truc then returned to her desk, but remained standing. She was kneading her hands and then decided to push her hair back and re-do her ponytail, during which time her elbows were pointing at me like a turret. She blushed when she was done and added:

“Yeah, I’m all by myself for a week now…”

“Skeleton crew…” I echoed once more.

Where in the world did she know that term from?

“Are you bursa sınırsız escort excited?” I asked clumsily, as I couldn’t think of anything better. Making things even worse, I added: “A month might even be better…”

Truc had enough sense not to respond directly to my awkward advances but told me that she needed another ten minutes or so to finish a few things before lunch. She sat back down, and I got another ciggy out of the pack in my shirt pocket. Had I remained where I was I would only have stared at her for the whole time.

While I was smoking outside, I thought about how we could make the most with this entirely new situation. I didn’t have my phone on me; Nguyet had probably sent half-a-dozen messages already, urging me to leave the juicy intern alone. Anyway, would Truc really be by herself for a whole week? Then I could maybe come back another day? I took another long drag from my cigarette and realized how placid the whole neighborhood was. So quiet that I could hear my heart beat. Shouldn’t I, as Nguyet wasn’t going to be here, retreat, perhaps under some pretext?

Truc was only 18, Christian, probably quite inexperienced, and yadi-yadi-yada… I could hear Nguyet’s words ring out in my ears. But then, I would have found it positively rude to just elope again, like I had only come here for Nguyet’s anus. Truc and I had chatted amiably the previous week — and also flirted a bit; at least that’s what I thought. Couldn’t we have lunch together again and continue our conversation?! Civility and decorum almost required it, I found. It was a matter of human dignity, wasn’t it? Yes, wouldn’t it be a slap in the young woman’s face if I excused myself now and ran away?

I felt dizzy, though, when I went back inside. Truc was still sitting at her desk, but when she looked at me with her dark almond eyes, I knew I had to give her company. Somehow, her marvelous eyes also calmed me down.

“D-do you w-wanna t-take off, now?” she asked. “B-but M-Mrs. Nguyet b-bought lunch this m-morning for the t-two of u-us… I mean, for h-her and m-me… rice… we… I mean, you and m-me c-could…”

The way she was hemming and hawing was awesome. I could have listened to her for hours. She cleared her throat and began again:

“W-we… the… the t-two of u-us… I mean, she d-doesn’t n-need…we c-could…”

“Eat lunch together? I’ll eat what Mrs. Nguyet had bought for herself?!” I finished her sentence and chuckled.

She nodded, and I jovially added: “Sure, and you go home afterwards…”

She hesitated for a second but then shook her pretty head: “No, I g-gotta work until 5 today. I’ll call my mother and tell her I won’t be coming home after lunch…”

“Just don’t mention I’m here…” I added semi-facetiously.

“I know,” she chuckled, slightly embarrassed and blushing, rubbing her thighs with both hands.

While Truc was on the phone, I didn’t listen in but playfully swiveled on Nguyet’s flimsy chair, like I was relieved and proud that the first step had gone well. As the thing sounded like it might break, though, I got up and started pacing back and forth in the waiting area, like a caged tiger. Jesus, this was exactly the situation I had been waiting for, but it had come rather sudden. Truc appeared to feel the same way:

“Mr. Ben, I don’t know…” she sighed after she had ended her call and put the phone down.

“What do you don’t know?”

“Well, if… if w-we… j-just the two of us… w-without Mrs. Nguyet…”

“Eat lunch together?” I completed her sentence again.

“Well, yeah, that too… but also… in general…”

“Well, there’s no one here, and until 2 or so no one is going to show up… we can be pretty certain about that, can’t we? What did your mom say, by the way?”

“Oh, she said I could still come home and take a nap… she suggested I bring the food home and eat it there… but I told her that I’d rather stay and make sure I’ll get the work done by 5…”

Ha! Clever. But she also sounded pretty serious. And being responsible was a desirable trait in any employee, of course.

“Hey, Truc, let’s lock the door and go upstairs,” I suggested to end the stalemate.

She thought about everything for a few more seconds but then rose and indeed turned the key in the lock. I liked that she had done it and not me. It was a nice symbolic gesture, like she had come to terms with everything. She looked at her phone somewhat longingly, which was still on her desk, but decided to leave it down here. Which I also liked. After one more sigh, we slipped out of our shoes and went upstairs together. I was probably as nervous as she was, as I still couldn’t be sure if she wished to be alone with me as much as I did. The few messages we had sent back and forth on Facebook hadn’t really given any more clues, but perhaps she was as averse to discussing sensual matters on electronic devices as I was.

Upstairs in the kitchen, I asked Truc if she needed my help, but görükle escort she only replied that I should just chill and smoke another cigarette if I wanted to. While she was preparing the food, I asked her how often she went to church, but she instantly played her affiliation down:

“Actually, I don’t really go anymore… and it’s only my dad who’s Christian… last year, I went quite a bit, though, as there was a new youth group…”

As far as I knew, about ten percent of the Vietnamese declared themselves ‘Christian’. The Filipino teachers at our private English school went to the smaller of the two churches in town. Perhaps Truc knew Mira? That would actually be funny, but I didn’t want to ask her directly.

“Which church of the two in town do you go to?”

“The big one, near Tran Hung Dao Elementary School… close to Hung Vuong Street…” she replied.

Ok. Then, there was no chance she had met Mira. I watched her preparations for a bit, enjoying her nimble movements. As her dress ended at her knees, I noticed that she had roundish healthy calves, and so I paid her two compliments: one regarding her dress and another her form. She blushed but admitted that she sometimes thought she was a bit overweight.

“Nonsense. Why?! You have a nice womanly figure…”

She chuckled coquettishly but instantly put one hand on her belly, where she moved it up and down: “This is fat…”

“No, really… as long as your belly doesn’t protrude beyond your chest… do you have any idea how much I want to press my lips on that sweet soft flesh?! I’m sure your skin there is super smooth… like butter…” I complimented her a tad clumsily once more.

Blushing again, she nodded barely noticeably, like she wanted to thank me for my kind words but then changed the topic to Nguyet, who was the only person we both knew:

“But Mrs. Nguyet is sooo much slimmer than I am, even though she’s 15 years older than me… I don’t even wanna know what I’ll look like when I’m 33…”

I told her in a few tender words that that didn’t matter right then, reminding her that Nguyet was extremely trim, but then the food was ready. We put her purported fat aside, and she prepared two nice portions of fried rice with egg.

“Do you have any ketchup or soy sauce…?” I asked her.

She passed me the latter and then looked in the fridge, where she found a bottle of chili ketchup, which she then put next to my bowl. While we were eating, she told me where she had gone to school and that her hobby was photography.

“But not myself…” she chuckled.

I wondered if that was because of her body image but concluded that, perhaps, she was just less narcissistic than other girls of her generation. And less pretentious. I promised myself to not bring up her fat again, until I would actually see and be allowed to touch it. But what could we talk about, instead? I didn’t feel like asking about her boyfriend, and so we just ended up chatting about work and our town, which felt like we were dancing around the more interesting topics, though. While she was speaking, I noticed that she didn’t seem to be wearing a bra, as her slightly sagging boobs had different shapes and were facing outward kind of low on her chest.

“Who told you that you’re too big?” I asked eventually, breaking my promise. “Your boyfriend?”

“No, not him, although he’s really skinny… no, that’s more like a feeling… when I look around in town… or on Instagram…”

“Well, don’t let that affect you… people only upload their best pictures there… which are also often doctored… but you know that… well, if that’s any comfort: I have several girls in my classes who are truly overweight…” I lied. “They have fat ankles… but you don’t… yours are fairly slim… downright perfect…”

Which was close to the truth. Truc looked down at her legs, perhaps as she wasn’t sure what ankles were. She blushed again, while she was putting a few strands of hair behind her ears. As we had broached the topic, I praised her womanly body some more:

“Your calves are awesome, too. I also like your tanned skin… yeah, your legs obviously aren’t skinny but they don’t need to be… you have a very feminine body… bigger than most Vietnamese girls’, but, yeah… there’s nothing wrong with it, to the contrary… and Mrs. Nguyet can’t really be the standard, as petite and slender as she is… Really: don’t worry about it…” I urged her quietly at the end of my spate of words.

Truc swallowed with her mouth closed and nodded: “Well, if you say so…”

“And, look: here!” I asked, with my hand on my belly.

“But that’s different,” she smiled. “You’re so much older…”

True, of course. I didn’t know what to reply, but perhaps that wasn’t even necessary. When we were done eating, she got up and put our bowls in the sink, where she filled them with water to preempt the ants. Then she took a jug of tea out of the fridge, filled two glasses, and sat back down again. We looked at each other, not knowing how we could or should continue. I knew one thing, though: I couldn’t just leave. As so often in similar situations, I lit a cigarette and got up to blow the smoke out of the window. She turned her chair to be able to see me — and to continue our conversation, should we find a topic.

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