Chapter 52 — Japanese Lunch
As reported the last time, Nguyet’s mother had asked Nguyet and me to film one of our sensual afternoons, so that she could watch her daughter and me having sex at her convenience and stop being on our heels to spy on us. Little by little, I also found out that Nguyet’s mother had been eavesdropping the last several times already, while she had watched us twice, too. In other words, our initial qualms didn’t matter anymore. And, curiously, I found the idea hot.
Nguyet would play ‘Lucky’ again, while I was going to be the chemical engineer from the refinery one more time, who I had played when I had met Lucky. Nguyet was still using that name when she wrote me, saying I should just come over for lunch on Thursday this week, as they pretended that her mother wanted to meet me. The two of them were going to prepare a Japanese lunch, and then we would go upstairs, just like we had a done a dozen times already over the last three years.
When I arrived at their house, both were wearing a Japanese dress and a lot of white make-up. They both had their hair in a bun on the back of their head, through which they had pierced a set of chopsticks. The two ladies bowed to greet me with their hands put together in front of their chests. Lucky briefly introduced me to her mother, while I could hear traditional Japanese music playing in the back of the house. They had even decorated the living room here with Japanese hand-held fans.
We went straight to the kitchen though, where the table had already been set. In Japan, the table would maybe have been lower, and we would have sat on cushions on the floor, but I understood that the family couldn’t get a new table just for the occasion or saw the legs of their kitchen table off. So, we sat down on regular chairs, but then Nguyet’s mother remembered that the front door was still open and went to close it quickly. The screeching of the metal doors gave the scene not only a dissolute ambience but it also sounded final and slightly ominous.
Nguyet was wearing a long, dark-red and white dress with yellow dragons, which reminded me of a bathrobe. Over her belly was a large ribbon, which probably could be opened. Her mother’s dress was of similar fashion, but darker and staid, but she still looked quite hot. Both women had similar figures and were of about the same height. On her way back from the front door, Nguyet’s mother got some tea and filled three flat bowls before she sat down. Both were holding the tea cups now exactly the same way—with one hand under and the other behind it—and smiled at me. We all took a sip before we pitched in.
Naturally, the atmosphere at the table was relatively reserved at first. We didn’t really know each other (in our role-play today), and the Japanese theme didn’t lend itself to exuberance, either. Lucky asked what was new, which fell flat though, as we didn’t have much common ground to plough. But then her mother asked me if I had already been to Japan, which broke the ice. I talked a little about the few days I had spent in Tokyo, before I asked Lucky where her foible for Japanese culture came from.
“Well, I’ve lived in the prefecture Nagasaki for two years. I worked at a large advertising agency.”
I could see how proud her mother was, and we had found our topic.
“Now, that sounds exciting. Oh, please do tell us more,” I requested.
Nguyet reached back a few years and went on to tell us the whole story, which she probably completely made up. I didn’t think she had ever left Vietnam, but she seemed to know a lot of intricate details about Japan and the work culture there. I knew she had a thing for Japan, and I just loved her voice. She could tell me anything, and I would listen. And, needless to say, this all was just the prelude to even more intricate, sensual pleasures upstairs in Nguyet’s chambers. Her mother was smiling and nodding, while Nguyet was carrying us off deeper and deeper into the cultural landscape of her favorite foreign country.
The food was excellent, too. The two of them had prepared a potato salad, which wasn’t quite unlike its German counterpart, while the beef curry was absolutely delicious. Even the rice seemed Japanese; I wondered where they had gotten it in our small, provincial town in Central Vietnam. Once, however, they asked me not to fill up completely, as there was another surprise dish in the fridge.
Nguyet had been pretty young when she, purportedly, had worked in Japan for the two years after completing high school. Now, she was telling us about the Seijin-no-Hi, the becoming-of-age festival, which is celebrated on the second Monday in January every year. Her mother got up, went to the fridge, and put two small plates with sushi and fresh tuna on the table. I looked at Nguyet, and if I hadn’t known it better, I would have believed Nguyet everything—hook, line, and sinker. Even the contours and features of her face—her high cheek bones and her rhombic face—looked Japanese. The music, the food, the vintage fans, and her stories had transformed the house bursa eskort into a completely different world within 30 minutes.
The Japanese festival mentioned had been important for Nguyet, as she had celebrated her 20th birthday the second year she was there. It was a rite of passage, after which young Japanese people could drink, smoke, and do everything else adults are allowed to indulge in. Nguyet embellished her stories with some details about drinking but didn’t mention sex much, even though her mother didn’t speak English. I thought of asking about some juicy details but refrained. Today, we were pretending not to know each other too well, and I was sure it would be better if I just let everything unravel naturally.
Nguyet was sitting straight across from me and her small bosom was already heaving substantially. Perhaps her dress was a little too tight but all of a sudden, she also seemed nervous. She moved restlessly on her chair; perhaps she was a little trepidatious, as we had never shot a video of the two of us having sex.
I had eaten a few pieces of sushi but, strangely enough, there was no sauce for the sashimi. But Nguyet’s stories had been so captivating that I hadn’t wanted to interrupt her. And everything had been prepared with so much care that I didn’t want to embarrass the two hosts by pointing out their only mistake. But now, Nguyet’s mother put her hand on Nguyet’s forearm and pointed at the sashimi with her chin.
“Oh, Mister Ben,” Lucky said. “You still haven’t tried the tuna,” Lucky reminded me.
“True,” I confirmed, slightly embarrassed. “but there’s no lime juice, wasabi, or soy sauce. If you have everything, I’ll mix it,” I offered.
Lucky spoke briefly with her mother, who shook her head.
“We do have soy sauce, but we forget to get the other things,” Lucky admitted sheepishly.
“Well, that’s alright. I’ll just have some as it is,” I said into the silence and reached across the table with my chopsticks.
But now, Nguyet’s mother held my wrist to stop me, while she looked at her daughter and then nodded at her.
“Well, Mister Ben, there’s another option,” Lucky asserted, while she got up.
Her mother nodded encouragingly one more time at Nguyet and me and suddenly seemed full of thrill of anticipation of what was about to come. Nguyet opened the ribbon on the front of her dress and let go. The fabric that had been folded a bit until a moment ago fell now straight and revealed a five-inch-wide opening over the whole length of the dress. Nguyet was naked under her dress.
The dress was tailored in a way that the opening over her chest was maybe only four inches wide, while it got one inch wider on each side right at her pubic triangle. I saw the onset of Lucky’s small breasts, but no nipples. Further down, the recesses in her dress framed her pubic hair, which seemed slightly trimmed, perfectly. For a few seconds, I watched her little belly heave to let the monumentality of what she just had done sink in. Eventually, my eyes got fixated on her pitch-black curly triangle.
“Miss Lucky, did you learn that in Japan?” I asked, not knowing what exactly I had meant.
She ignored the question for now, but invited me to rub a piece of sashimi between her moist labia.
“Mister Ben, if you want, you can coat your fish with a little bit of my sauce here,” she looked down at me with her tongue between her teeth and pressed her lap towards me. There were some spit-bubbles in one corner of her mouth.
Nguyet’s mother looked at me expectantly and cheerfully, before she encouraged me to take Lucky up on her invitation. So, I took said piece of tuna between my chopsticks again and rubbed it between Lucky’s wet, sticky nether lips, which we hadn’t done for a while. That her mother was watching us now was a little strange. I mean, would she watch us the whole afternoon? Had the plan to film everything changed to a threesome? Did she actually want to be in the film now?
I didn’t have much time, though, to worry about all this, as the fish was delicious and Nguyet was still standing next to me. Naked. She was proud of her beautiful body and knew how much I loved her. She smiled challengingly and pointed at the tuna with her stretched, flat hand. I treated myself to another piece, for which Lucky actually put one leg up on my chair for easier access. I rubbed the tuna carefully between her labia, when her mother already pointed at the little dish again for yet another morsel.
With mock modesty, I allowed myself a third chunk, for which Nguyet now pulled her pussy open with both hands. When I was taking it to my mouth, however, I saw that a whitish thread was following the fish all the way from Lucky’s lips to mine. From the corner of my eye, I saw how happy her mother seemed about everything.
Lucky’s pussy lips were still somewhat hidden between her legs as she was standing next to me, which prompted her mother to get up and come over to us. She pushed a small red stool next to my chair and asked her daughter to sit down. Nguyet bursa merkez escort sat on the edge in the front and leaned backwards, where her mother held her, first on her arms but then she reached under her knees. Nguyet’s mother pulled her daughter’s legs towards her chest and spread them. Now, the center of the universe was cheekily looking at me in all its glory. I didn’t need another invitation and dunked another piece of cool, raw tuna deep in the younger of the two women.
As I was rolling the treat around in Nguyet’s succulent snatch, my dick made its presence felt. Lucky’s breasts were still hidden under the fabric of her dress but to be able to admire her beautiful pussy in such an exposed position was a delight and filled me with bliss. One side of me wanted to get my dick out right away, but when I leaned forward to gently touch Nguyet’s labia with my fingertips, Lucky brushed my hand aside, reminding me:
“Mister Ben, we’re still eating.”
She seemed a tad indignant, while her mother nodded and looked at me like a governess who just reprimanded a naughty boy for his transgressions. Oh, well, maybe later then.
As nimble as the two unraveled their script, however, it almost looked like they had done it before or, at least, rehearsed. But with whom? Anyway, so as to not let the plot drop, they encouraged me to eat the penultimate piece. I was already full but, obviously, couldn’t fold right now. And fresh tuna with Nguyet’s pussy nectar was perhaps the most delicious food I knew. As we were getting close to the end and as I got a particularly generous portion of Nguyet’s nectar, I ate the fish like candy; I just let it melt in my mouth.
“We did that at work in Japan. On Fridays,” Lucky told me, laughing, after her mother had sat down again.
“And you partook … you were game right from the start, with your 18 or 19 years?” I inquired.
“Not the first few times, but from some point on …” she giggled slightly embarrassed. “Just imagine, every girl in the office pulls her pantyhose and panties down at lunch and lets her colleagues dunk their fish in their pussy. You can’t just sit there and watch … I think it’s completely harmless, though,” she explained how she saw things and giggled again.
The way she was telling these hot fibs was pure genius. I had rarely heard anything that had turned me on more. Just imagine! An office full of young Japanese women with their pantyhose down to their knees. Good salacious Lord! My dick was completely swollen inside my pants. Would they allow me to let it out, though?
“Does your mother know that you took part in those sex games in Japan?”
“I only told her recently. Back then, she would have wanted me to come home, obviously. Do you still want that last piece?” Lucky asked, pointing at the table with her chin.
I nodded and thought that Nguyet would rub it in her snatch to make things easier but now her mother got up. Holy moly! Well, in some ways, I could have seen it coming. Her mother came over and opened her bowknot on the front of her dress, which was tailored more conservatively than her daughter’s. There were no recesses for her pubic triangle, which I could still see, though, heaving between the hems. Nguyet’s mother pulled one of the seams two inches to the side at her hip, like a curtain, and let me rub the very last piece of fresh, raw tuna between her seasoned labia, just like I had done with her daughter.
I looked at the dark-brown bush for the first time, as I was looking for some tart, savory dressing under her damp, pearl-studded curls. This outrageous, unprecedented process brought a mocking smile on Lucky’s lips, who seemed relieved that I had accepted the challenge. Well, the last thing we needed was an éclat. Nguyet’s mother’s pussy was, of course, even more savory and aromatic than her daughter’s; it was like the difference between chicken and duck meat. Or between Nguyet and our tender young friend Tuyet.
Nguyet’s mother sat down again for now, and Lucky went to the fridge to get the dessert. She put three cups with strawberries and mango slices on the table but sat down next to me (and not across). Lucky was looking at me full of expectations. I could see one of her breasts under her dress but didn’t dare to reach in. After all, we were still eating. When her mother encouraged me to try some fruit, though, I rubbed a slice of mango between Lucky’s legs and put it in my mouth.
Now, Lucky put her hand on my dick, like she wanted to gauge its size and level of stiffness. When she could feel it twitch, she looked across the table and nodded at her mother.
“Ben, do you know what we also did in Japan?”
When I shook my head, Lucky explained: “When the girls in the office complained that they had to pull down their panties at lunch every Friday, so that the men could help themselves to some pussy juice, the girls demanded that the men jerk off on their desserts.”
Jesus! Well, now I knew what was going to come next.
“When I told my mother bursa ucuz escort that story last week, she asked if I knew someone who we could ask to do that for us, so that our Japanese lunch would be complete.”
Lucky was still rubbing my cock gently through my pants, which caused it to swell more and more. As it was really difficult to keep it inside anyway, I just got up to show my consent, and Lucky pulled the zipper down. She opened the button at the top and then pulled my pants down, together with my underwear. When my dick jumped in sight, Nguyet’s mother slapped her nose and mouth with her flat hand, but instantly moved closer, to the chair where her daughter had been sitting ten minutes earlier.
Nguyet had taken my stiff dick in her mouth pretty much immediately, but now her mother was complaining that she couldn’t see it, so Lucky let it snap back out and kept stroking it. When I reached for their cups, however, Lucky motioned her mother to come over, who then tilted both glasses near my glans. It wasn’t going to take long before I would come on the dessert.
Lucky was eager to suck my dick, it seemed, as she now took it back in her mouth, which naturally was nicely warm and moist. I started to thrust, like I had done almost three years earlier, when her mother had surprised us. As pleasant as the mouth-fuck was, I couldn’t come there, so I pulled out again and pointed my dick straight at the two fruit cups. Lucky handed my dick to her mother, who gladly took her part, after she had put both glasses back on the table.
Nguyet’s mother was excited like a teenager to be fondling a dick (again). She did well, though. Lucky was tilting the glasses near my glans, and when I came, I switched from one to the other about half-way through. Like sisters or girlfriends who had just been to their local ice-cream parlor, the two ladies rejoiced when they sat down once more. When my dick was limp again, I stuffed it back into my pants, sat down as well, and watched the two of them indulge.
Nguyet’s mother first tried the cum without fruit. Viscous and sticky as it was, some got stuck on her lower lip and chin, which her daughter pointed out by saying: ‘Mom, you’ve got something there.’ Lucky, on the other hand, stirred everything together and was munching happily. But when I wanted to take a slice of mango out of my glass and eat it as it was, Lucky got up immediately and came back over to my side of the table. She held her dress open and offered her nectar reservoir again. And so we slurped our body-fluid-covered desserts.
With role-plays, it was like during Carnival: Layers of the repressed were brought to the surface. But what happened didn’t need to be integrated into one’s daily social life. In many ways, it was like going to a wild night-club in a big city on the weekend, where a lot of people were open to pretty much anything. Just as I was asking myself if the three of us would go and pee together next, Lucky and her mom put the dishes together and asked if we shouldn’t go upstairs.
Exhausted and full from the wonderful fare, I couldn’t imagine having sex now. I wouldn’t get it up again for at least another 45 minutes. On the other hand, it had been exactly right to release some pressure when we did. Nguyet and her mother—as Asian women—understood that instinctively, and they certainly knew that their sexual gratification would have to wait a little now. As I knew them, though, they had remedies up their sleeves.
Interestingly, only Lucky had come upstairs with me, though. Perhaps her mother wanted to do the dishes first? Unlikely, after what we had just done and on a day like this. Anyway, in Nguyet’s room, there really was a camera on a tripod.
“Ben, did you like our lunch?” she asked.
“It was stunning. Absolutely marvelous. Thank you. The sashimi was the best. Your mother is an attractive mature woman,” I added to mollify her. “I found it interesting how she exposed herself. And that she encouraged me to dip a piece of fish in her pussy.”
Lucky smiled: “Yeah, she can be quirky at times. She does crazy things once in a while. Perhaps she’ll come up here, too, and watch or even join us. Would that be ok with you?”
“Sure. The more the merrier,” I assured her.
“Ben, you probably still need some time to recuperate. Do you want to go next door? I like taking a shower before I fuck … I also need to pee,” she added.
‘I see’, I thought to myself and began to take my clothes off. Lucky dropped her dress to the ground, and we went along the corridor naked. In the bathroom, there was stool on which I sat down right away.
“Ben, I know we don’t know each other well, but would it be alright if I peed on you? I don’t know but it turns me on immensely …” Lucky asked quietly. “You can pee on me too, afterwards. And then we’ll take a shower together.”
“Ok. Sure. Do you want to start, Lucky?”
She nodded and took my right leg between hers. Then she put her right foot on my left thigh and let go. As she was holding onto my neck with both hands, I had both of my hands free to ‘wash’ them in her warm, soft stream. I played a little with her labia and pulled them apart to unify the jet. Then she stopped abruptly and asked if we wanted to switch positions, before she perched on the stool, while I kneeled in front of her and let her piss in my mouth. She was just too beautiful to deny her that.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32