“I wanna go home.”
Good Lord, was that hot! I had never seen her angry or indignant, but yeah, if she wanted to create situations from which she would gain additional gratification, she had to build obstacles which I then had to overcome. Maybe that’s why the vapid leggings and the generally unattractive set of clothes. I still didn’t want to do anything truly against her will, but I couldn’t be sure if she actually agreed with what we were doing. Well, when I had picked her up two hours earlier she knew that we would fuck one way or another. I got up, but didn’t apologize, so that she could fume and sulk some more, and we went downstairs without saying a word.
For some reason, she insisted on paying, but when we were standing next to my Honda outside the café, she told me she would walk. Well, that was about a mile, definitely doable, and the weather was nice: dry, a little windy, and about 76 or 78 degrees. Well, ok, then.
“I don’t wanna go to Hanh, not after what you just did… you can go by yourself and fuck your little blind friend…” she barked.
Wow! Strong stuff. Indeed. Just, wow!
“Let me drive you home then… at least…” I repented ever so slightly, making the first attempt at reconciliation.
“No, forget it… I’m done with you… up there, you used me like a receptacle, like a thing….”
“Oh, please… who pulled her leggings down and lifted up her skirt?!” I reminded her. “And who said: ‘Hey, let’s do it quickly before we drive to Hanh’?!
“So what?! We agreed that you’d come on my legs and maybe panties… you weren’t supposed to pull them down… and then you even pressed your thing inside me, you jerk! Are you out of your mind?!”
I shook my head and started my motorcycle: “You chicks don’t know what the fuck you want… do you know what?! You can just go and fuck yourself…” I told her and put my helmet on.
We looked at each other for another three seconds, fuming, before she turned on her heels and stomped off towards home. I watched her for a bit, a tad angry but also somewhat melancholic, but then I took off in the opposite direction. I stopped at the next corner, though, made a U-turn, but then waited. I could see her small silhouette trudging along the sidewalk. Well, at least she was wearing sneakers. And she was young and healthy. Should I just let her do her thing? Of course not, as we weren’t done for the day. If we played our cards right, we could reconcile and fuck each other again. And I hadn’t licked her savory butt crack yet.
Of course, I followed her in the end, for the last 50, 60 yards on the ‘wrong’ side of the street, close to the curb, which was kinda normal in our small provincial town, though. She must have heard me approaching but, to spite me, didn’t turn around. When I was pulling along next to her, she shot me one angry glance but otherwise ignored me. Eventually, I drove up on the sidewalk and blocked her way.
“Look, I can understand that you’re upset… let me make up for it. I’ll drive you back to the school,” I offered again.
Since that was better for our sensual adventure, she hopped on but didn’t say anything while we were driving. But when I turned decidedly towards the school, she tapped my shoulder and asked me to stop.
“Mister Ben, I don’t want to lose that hour with Hanh just because you didn’t know how to behave earlier… please drive me over to her house. But I don’t want you to come in…”
Should I beg her to please be admitted? Or sulk and refuse to drive her altogether in that case? Then, our ploy and plot couldn’t continue. So, I just made another U-turn and drove the short distance to Hanh, where Mira insisted again that I wasn’t gonna come upstairs. Instead, she requested I come back an hour later. I briefly thought about ignoring her request–after all, Hanh and I had known each other for much longer–but then, if I went up together with Mira now, we would be arguing in front of our lovely blind friend, which definitely seemed wrong.
Had Hanh not been ovulating, I could have banged her in front of Mira, but then my young Filipina friend and I couldn’t have had sex once more. Not at my age. And, of course, Mira was just playing angry to turn up the heat. I regretted that I couldn’t see her coagulated creampie in her panties and wondered what Hanh would think of it. She would also be curious, I surmised, why Mira showed up without me. Mira’s pussy had fermented the last 30 minutes, and I already felt like banging her senseless. But, for now, I just played it cool and told her I’d be back later.
Mira didn’t speak Vietnamese, but she went in all by herself. Well, as she had just sent me away, that was her problem now. Hanh’s aunt and mother had met her before, we also had an appointment, and Hanh had a translation app for spoken language on her phone. In the meantime, I went to a small restaurant–coincidentally the one where I had taken Mira once when I had bumped into her outside her church on All Saints’ Day. Incidentally, that had also been the day when I had finally deflowered her. While I was eating, I reminisced about that monumental act, but then my mind wandered back to Charlie, who we hadn’t met yet, but chances were that soon the ladies would deflower him. The way things went. Of course, I smoked after the meal, and my mind moseyed back to her wet boat-hull pussy under her nondescript whitish panties, blue-teal tights, and pumpkin skirt last week.
Had last week been hotter than today? Well, the whitish cum trail on the inside of her right thigh was a sight I’d never forget. But being inside her with my pumping, ejaculating glans with the groove at the bottom tightly wrapped by her labia was hard to beat. Filling her up like that was one of the best feelings I had ever had. Right now, she was probably lying naked on Hanh’s massage table, enjoying the treatment of our blind friend’s nimble, dexterous hands, who might detect the coagulated cum at some point. Well, Mira would be unable to explain it. I wondered if Hanh liked Mira’s large clit. At some point, I paid up, of course, and sauntered outside, where I smoked another ciggie, before I got back on my motorcycle. It wasn’t quite time yet to drive back to Hanh’s, but did it matter? I didn’t feel like killing more time at another café and decided to see what might transpire at the massage parlor, instead.
Hanh’s aunt greeted me, smiling and pointing upstairs, where the ladies were. Slightly trepidatious, I walked past Mira’s blue sneakers here on the first step and then slowly made my way up the old, seasoned, creaking staircase, which had endured countless ladies of the local hautvolee on their way up to have their snatches fondled professionally. Panting, and with my heart beating, I paused outside her room, trying to make out what Hanh and Mira might be doing inside. The last thing I wanted was to interrupt their tender loveplay, particularly not at its orgiastic stages.
Well, if I wasn’t mistaken, there was some quiet, subdued moaning and the occasional cute little shriek. Well, Mira was bisexual, and perhaps she had sent me away to be alone with her new crush? Even though she had pretended to be mad, she still must be aroused, I thought to myself. Should I go back downstairs? No, perhaps not, as that would be weird. What would I tell Hanh’s aunt? At least, it was quiet in the house, and no one could surprise me coming from below, as, just like at the café, I would hear the steps. Since my underpants were still in my pants pocket, I got my dick back out to the music of the excited, faint cooing coming through the small gap between the old wooden door here and its frame.