“And?” I whispered her way, across the corner of the table.
Her left hand was on her thigh, and she gave me a surreptitious thumbs-up, hidden from Charlie, and nodded.
“Is Thuy in the loop as well?” I was curious, as she was a petite lovely woman who I could also see Charlie with.
Yes, Nguyet’s coworker Thuy was short, had big boobs, was a bit motherly and really sweet. Nguyet nodded and told me that she had mentioned the whole deflowering-scenario to Thuy, but promised to remind her, once we got to their office. Thuy was working her lunch-break that day, as she wanted to leave the office earlier. She was married, technically, but had separated from her husband half-a-year ago. When they had tried to get back together recently, it hadn’t worked out. As a result, Thuy was living with her mother again. Together with her little daughter, who must have been 16 months or so.
“So, Thuy didn’t get back together with her husband…”
“No, they’re always fighting…” Nguyet sighed.
That was a strange, as I knew Thuy as a dainty, lovely lady.
“Well, she might be in the mood for some ribald rumpus, then…” I laughed.
Nguyet nodded, but then I had to ask her about Vu, my former student, who had been her lover for a year, until recently:
“Have you seen Vu lately?”
“No, Ben, I only saw him twice after you introduced your niece to him… but that was three months back.”
It really sounded like she had repressed the ‘asshole’ at the end.
I apologized, knowing that my 19-year old country bumpkin niece was the better choice for Vu, as he was 21 and couldn’t have a real relationship with Nguyet, who was about 12 years his senior. But Nguyet had switched to Hoang in the meantime anyway, who was a bit older and taller than Vu, and even better-looking, too. Be that as it may, Vu’s relationship with Giang, my niece, had begun when I had taken the two of them to Hanh’s parlor to introduce him to the art of pussy massage, which Nguyet knew and was alluding to now:
“His pussy game got better after he met her…” she said laconically.
She did sound melancholic and a tad sarcastic, but then she caught herself and clapped her hands:
“So, you two love birdies, you wanna go to my office?”
As that didn’t sound particularly enticing, Nguyet explained to Charlie and Mira that her office was in a fully-furnished house that served as a model home in the new subdivision, where we could be alone until two o’clock. Nguyet promised to make tea and even mentioned cookies, which I found a bit odd but also sweet and neat, considering what we were up to. Eating cookies. Ok, then. Charlie looked at me with his charming, twinkling eyes behind his glasses. I thought he looked good; slim and trim as he was. I had only seen him walk the short distance from the stairs here to the table, but he had a modest swagger and carried himself well. He was about five-four or –five, which was about three or four inches taller than Mira, while Nguyet was barely five foot. Yes, Charlie and Mira would make a fine couple.
We went downstairs and asked for the check. Charlie was still chatting away with his new friend, who would let him come on top of her, which I found splendid. They had really hit it off. All our worries from an hour ago seemed baseless at this point. Everything was just developing all by itself, as Mira was flying off the proverbial shelf.
While we were waiting for our change, I asked Charlie what he was majoring in:
“International Marketing. In Ho Chi Minh City. But, of course, online now. I’m only here in my dad’s hometown because of Covid-19.”
Aah, perhaps Mrs. Yen was his dad’s sister then.
“Sure. But International Marketing. That’s why your English is so good…” I replied, hoping not to sound patronizing or avuncular.
Mira and Charlie went outside, as the proprietor had to rummage through her pants and then even ask one of the waitresses for the exact change. When Nguyet and I joined the young couple next to our motorcycles, outside, Charlie proudly announced that Mira was going to ride with him. Well, if Nguyet hadn’t looked so fucking hot, I would have been jealous, but, hey, weren’t we all hoping that Mira and Charlie would hit it off?!
Technically, I didn’t even know what my role in this whole charade was: If the ladies liked Charlie, they could charmingly help him along and eventually deflower him without me being present. Both, Nguyet and Mira, were clever bloweresses and yes, one of them–or both–could then let him on top of her, to use that phrase one last time. Mira was shining brightly and radiated youthful energy, and she had a nice, trim, rousing body. Sure, Thuy was more womanly and had larger boobs, but we didn’t know if Charlie was even into that. He perhaps didn’t know himself, as he hadn’t touched one yet, as far as we knew.
Such and similar thoughts went through my mind as I was following the convoy. Nguyet was at the helm, as she needed to show Charlie the way, while I was following him. Looking at Mira’s bra fastener on her back, under her super-soft, thick, red T-Shirt made me horny as fuck, especially when she turned around, waved and smiled at me. Now, she even wrapped her arms around our young beau–Jesus! Everything was going like a clockwork, frightfully smooth. Good Lord! What a titillating, zippy dynamic everything had! Awesome! Mira seemed liberated; free to explore sex with her first Vietnamese dude, who was a virgin and considerably younger than her. Bisexual Mira had picked Charlie to fuck but was probably also thinking of Hanh, her blind young girl–oscillating between both worlds. I could see her relationship with Hanh grow deeper over time and was exceedingly happy for her. Wasn’t it funny, though, that in Hanh’s case, she didn’t see any language problems?
Oh, shoot, speaking off: We had forgotten to give Hanh a call. Neither had I checked my phone again to see if she had replied to my lengthy message about initiating Charlie at her massage parlor. Well, it didn’t matter much at the moment, as we were on our way to a different location with a different crew of women anyway. At least, I remembered now who Charlie reminded me of: that young, goofy Hong-Kong-Chinese lad in Silicon Valley. What was his name again? Jian? Yang? But, as dopey as he was, he was also super sweet, and one knew that he wasn’t dumb at all. But witty.
When we got to the model home, I saw Thuy’s scooter parked outside, and we went in. The dainty damsel was sitting at her desk, smiling. Thuy didn’t seem surprised to see the four of us, as Nguyet had relayed to her already what was going on. And both, Mira and Charlie, were clearly too young to be real estate clients. The way Mira was frolicking, swinging her skirt, she seemed unstoppable, radiating more and more sensual joy. It almost seemed that her skirt was electrostatically charged, the way it protruded into the room. As hot as Nguyet was, she seemed a bit tired and exhausted; perhaps she was overworked. Thuy, on the other hand, was super-relaxed and seemed completely unfazed by the trouble she just had with her (ex)-husband. She was just typing away on her keyboard merrily, but I wanted to ask her to join us. She was wearing a somewhat old-fashioned, grey shepherd’s check dress, as they were still in vogue among Vietnamese women over 30 in small towns and villages. I liked it, though. And her; particularly, how the fabric was enwrapping her ample bosom.