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Chapter 85 — The Massages with Mrs. Yen and Hanh are Developing Nicely

Oh, was I glad that the massages with Mrs. Yen and my new, blind but utterly cute friend Hanh would continue in a few days. The last time, we had massaged Mrs. Yen’s snatch together, and now Hanh wanted us to do the same to her. Of course, I was increasingly longing for a complete union with her. I remembered fondly how Hanh had positioned my rod inside Mrs. Yen’s hungry sheath last week, and it seemed only commonsensical to next explore sex with Hanh, as young and inexperienced as she was.

While we had been massaging Mrs. Yen’s pussy together, I had conceived the grandiose idea that Hanh could actually offer pussy massages at her aunt’s massage parlor, which she then wouldn’t have to open up for men to get more customers. Initially, Mrs. Yen had invited Hanh and myself to her house to allow Hanh to garner some experience massaging men. And so the two of them had jerked me off on the massage table that first afternoon, while the second time around Hanh and I had treated Mrs. Yen’s pussy in the most rousing fashion. So, I found it absolutely compelling that Hanh pursue and develop her new specialty, as that would definitely be a much cooler, more profitable and also more wholesome niche than jerking off random guys.

My suggestion regarding the new pussy therapy had apparently fallen on sympathetic ears, as Mrs. Yen was sending me messages twice a day now about the logistical details. She knew that I had been to pretty much every massage parlor in our town and that I was a man of the world, so she trusted my advice. I had, for instance, suggested that Hanh’s aunt should put up a curtain above the client’s belly, so that they didn’t need to see Hanh while they were getting their snatches treated. Initially, Mrs. Yen had denied that that would be necessary as Hanh was blind, but I convinced her that — with the curtain drawn closed — customers could drift into trance more easily and then truly enjoy on Hanh’s small gentle fingers in their treasures. And, needless to say, if someone would want to watch the young, blind masseuse, the curtain could remain open.

I had an additional reason to be keen that the pussy massages at Hanh’s aunt’s salon would start soon, since it was Mira’s birthday on April 9, and I wanted to give her a voucher for a pussy massage as a gift. Or two, as she then could go together with her roommate, colleague, and fuck-buddy Carol, who had been back from the Philippines for ten weeks now. The two of them had moved in together again and seemed to have settled into their semi-lesbian routine. Carol’s Filipino boyfriend was forgotten — as was I. Mira and I still smiled when we saw each other at work, but our affair had come to a halt. My hope was, of course, that a pussy massage from Hanh’s tender hands would be the catalyst for the continuation my relationship with Mira. I desperately wanted to roll around in bed with her again — and have her pee on me — ideally, with Carol in the mix.

On the other hand, I was exceedingly happy how things were working out with Mrs. Yen and our cuddly, blind friend Hanh. I couldn’t wait to massage Hanh’s little snatch today, and perhaps she would jerk me off again. And then, the threesome with Nguyet and Vu at the hot springs was still on the list as well. So, I went to Mrs. Yen’s house around ten-thirty in the morning, where Hanh would be waiting for me. Our host had a dentist appointment at one-thirty, though, so that we couldn’t work off the whole agenda. Well, we would see.

When I arrived, the front door was almost completely closed, which was strange. I pushed it open, trying to be quiet, and then stepped inside. The whole house was silent, like there was no one at home. One could see most of the kitchen from the entrance, but the ladies didn’t seem to be there. Eventually, I sat down across from the stove and the fridge, near the window. Perhaps the two of them were already upstairs? I couldn’t hear anything, though, and so I just poured myself a glass of cold tea and decided to wait. I saw a large colander with salad over on the counter and got up to pee. Still not quite sure what to do, I hesitatingly walked up the stairs to check on them.

Step after step, I paused to listen carefully, but there was no sound, apart from the rustling of the leaves outside and the occasional bird. At one point, however, I persuaded myself that there had been some faint rejoicing and sighing, which had sounded like Mrs. Yen. Perhaps Hanh was already giving her a tender massage, as our host had to see the doctor at half-past-one? When I came around the bend, half-way up, I saw that the bathroom door was open and that the door to Yen’s daughter’s bedroom was ajar. As I was getting closer, I could hear Yen moan more pronounced, and so I stepped closer. Standing outside the bedroom, about ten inches away from the door, I peeked inside: Yen was lying naked on the bed with her legs bahis firmaları wide spread, while Hanh was kneeling between Yen’s thighs, only wearing panties.

I couldn’t see Yen’s lap, as Hanh was blocking the view, but judging by the wheezing and panting, Mrs. Yen seemed close to an orgasm. The way it looked, our young blind friend had her fingers inside our host’s moist sheath — probably to practice her new skill once more. With her small hand, Hanh was thrusting rhythmically into her mentor’s treasure, who was soaring to ever higher levels of sensual arousal. I thought about entering the room, but decided against it: I didn’t want to startle the two, and it seemed rude in general. So, I just kept watching the scintillating play of the two women in estrus.

I could see Hanh’s bra next to her on the bed. Like virtually every woman I knew, she preferred to be harness-free whenever the social situation allowed it. Her back locked strong and small butt utterly endearing, in her burgundy-white cladding. Watching Hanh thrust her pelvis from time to time caused my cock to pump itself up in no time. I thought about taking off my pants — or taking out my dick, at least — but refrained from it in the end, as Hanh would masturbate me later and I wanted to have a respectable load ready.

If I wasn’t completely mistaken, Mrs. Yen had started squirting again, just like the last time I had been here. Knowing that that might happen, she had put a large towel on the bed in preparation. Hanh changed position and was now sitting on her thigh, like the Little Mermaid. If she had already been naked, I perhaps would have kneeled behind her and rubbed my glans against her back, butt anus, and perineum — and maybe even fucked her a bit — but since she was still wearing her panties, I would only have interrupted the divine rhythm of the two ladies. And, of course, I wanted to watch until they were finished, as this was a rare scene, which one couldn’t really ask for.

Mrs. Yen now reached for Hanh’s small boobs and pulled her closer. In that way, I could watch Hanh’s fingers better, which were still thrusting slowly inside her motherly friend. Yen’s pussy was soaking wet, and under her butt, copious amounts of sweet — or, rather, sour — juices had formed a dark puddle. Mrs. Yen’s snatch was pulsating like she was about to give birth, but she still had the consciousness to now pull Hanh’s panties down, whose little butt cheeks snapped out right away. I was instantly tempted again to lie down on top of her. But Hanh and I hadn’t had sex yet — and perhaps she was still a virgin — so I abstained.

Maybe it was better if I just went down again quietly, smoked a cigarette in the kitchen, and pretended to be unaware of what had been going on here in Linh’s bedroom? That I had watched them could then remain a secret. And what could I accomplish anyway if I went inside the room now and sat down on the bed, naked or not? Just watch them? I had probably seen enough already. It was their rousing game, not mine. Yen didn’t need my dick at the moment, and Hanh probably needed a break, rather. So I just soaked in the steaming atmosphere some more: the pumping pelvis, the juicy, mature pussy, the squirting, and the desperate, titillating sounds towards the ceiling — and retreated quietly.

It would have been odd to watch the two of them take a shower as well, even though they certainly wouldn’t have minded. Ah, anyway: Back downstairs, I took the ashtray from the windowsill and sat down near my half-full glass of tea. I rewound the fresh tape in my head, while I could hear them talk upstairs. At some point, I sensed quiet steps approaching and put out my ciggie. I turned towards the stairs and saw that Hanh was wearing a shiny, dark-teal house suit. Mrs. Yen was holding Hanh’s hand, until they were a few feet away from the table and then let go.

Hanh slowly walked the remaining distance to find ‘her’ chair. Apparently, she thought that she would sit in the chair where I was sitting, but it was too late for me to get up without bumping into her. So I just stayed where I was and held out my arms. Mrs. Yen could anticipate what was going to happen and laughed quietly when Hanh was feeling the table edge. Eventually, I just grabbed Hanh gently with my extended hands and helped her to sit down on my thigh. She giggled but didn’t seem to mind at all, and so I wrapped one arm around her slim hip and tiny belly, and she leaned sideways into my chest.

Hanh smelled lovely of herself, soap, and, perhaps, shampoo. She turned a little to where she thought our host was, who got another pot out of the fridge and switched on the stove. Holding Hanh’s cuddly, firm body made my dick pump itself up again. I offered Hanh my glass of tea, and she took a sip, before she accidentally hit my solar plexus with her elbow. I kissed her ear here right in front of me, and she blushed. She giggled embarrassedly but seemed to enjoy our arrangement. And so I put my kaçak iddaa hand on her naked skin above the waistband of her pants, under her shirt, which instantly electrified both of us.

Since my hand was already on her skin and apparently welcome there, I began to caress her tender, firm flesh. Mrs. Yen had seen my hand moving under Hanh’s shirt but didn’t comment. And she couldn’t have been surprised, as Hanh and I had exchanged quite a few tender strokes the last time I had been here, before Hanh had actually put my dick inside Mrs. Yen and been present the whole time during our rousing intercourse. If Hanh hadn’t masturbated Yen upstairs just fifteen minutes ago, I maybe would have asked her to jerk me off or even blow me before lunch, but it still seemed better to postpone the next round until after the meal.

And hadn’t I come here today to massage Hanh’s little snatch, so that she could experience the treatment that she was going to give countless women in our town over the next years?! I imagined how droves of seasoned middle-aged women would soon quietly flock to that very special massage parlor and how they would pass on the news of what was going on there, whispering and murmuring, and couldn’t help grinning.

Mrs. Yen now put a chair right next to mine, on which Hanh’s was going to sit during the meal, I supposed. I liked that gesture, as it acknowledged the strong feelings we had for each other. Then, Yen put the pot on the table and filled our bowls. Hanh slid off my thigh and sat down right next to me. I realized that she looked exhausted when she began to eat. She bent over her bowl pretty closely, probably because she didn’t want to spill the broth. I kept caressing her back through her shirt, though, and enjoyed the peaceful atmosphere here at the house. We ate without saying much; when I saw the closed laptop on the other side of the table I wondered if we needed the translation program today.

What I loved was that Hanh, as soon as she was done eating her soup, felt my leg and hopped on it again. Exhausted and happy as Mrs. Yen was, she just nodded at me and smiled but then her phone rang. I tried to find out from Hanh’s face if the conversation would have any effect on our plans this afternoon but wasn’t able to tell. When Yen had ended the call, she said:

“That was the dentist.”

Clumsily, I asked what the call was exactly about: if the appointment had been cancelled or postponed, at least, since that would have given us more time together. I envisioned Mrs. Yen giving us her take on pussy massages and Hanh writhing as a result. But then the latter said surprisingly.

“No, mother Yen needs to go.”

‘Mother’ was, in Vietnamese, the generic way to address any woman a generation older than oneself. Oh, what could we do now?! My heart dived; should I really have to go home without being able to achieve anything? Or did we have time for a quickie of some sort? I couldn’t see a clock, nor did I carry a phone to check the time, and so I asked Mrs. Yen how much time we had left. She told me that the receptionist had called from the doctor’s office, saying that there was no one in the waiting room at that moment. In other words, now would be a good time for our host to go. Yen thought about our options, during which time both, Hanh and I, were looking at her with trepidation. Then Yen said:

“Brother Ben, can you drop off Hanh at her house later? I gotta go straight to my office after the dentist … Hanh lives at 158 Tran Hung Dao street …”

I knew where that was but didn’t quite get why I needed to drive her. But then it dawned on me that Yen was going to leave us alone here at her house. My heart leaped. We would have one or two hours at our disposal, and a warm, strong wave of desire instantly washed all over me, which got even stronger when I noticed that Hanh wasn’t wearing her bra under the top. In my mind’s eye, I could still see it lying on the bed upstairs and wondered if Hanh was ready for sex. Not bothering to put on a bra seemed to be pointing in that direction, didn’t it?

Hanh sighed longingly when I pressed her naked small fruits under her top. I leaned forward to kiss her neck — forgetting that Mrs. Yen was still in the room. But now she leaped upstairs for a minute to get ready, during which time Hanh and I exchanged another round of tender kisses. When Yen came back down, she brought the oil bottle with her, like she already knew what was going to happen here in the kitchen as soon as she would be gone. She nodded at us and reminded me to pull the front door completely closed, before she added that we were welcome to use Linh’s bedroom.

Wow! I was impressed by her generosity and began to unbutton Hanh’s top as soon as we had heard the screeching front door being shut. I peeled her shirt off her back, and she took it completely off. Hanh was still sitting on my lap, and each of her nimble movements caused a further swelling of my cock. She probably knew, as she kaçak bahis had reached for it. After we heard the motorcycle fade away, we knew we were alone and no holds were barred. I pushed Hanh up gently to take my pants and underpants off, after which I pulled hers down. When we were both naked, I pulled her back towards my thigh and handed her the oil bottle.

She took some lubricant but then pressed her little butt against my belly and put her feet tightly next to each other. She reached between her legs, fumbling backwards to find my dick. As small as she was, I could watch the whole scene with my chin on her shoulder, before she began to stroke my cock between her legs like it was her own. Initially, I had thought that we would go upstairs and just lie down on Linh’s bed, but what was developing here was way too intriguing to stop. And it was probably also better to release some steam immediately, so that our encounter on the bed could be more tender and gentle.

Well, Hanh wouldn’t have been Hanh if she — as a professional masseuse — couldn’t think of a more tantalizing thing to do than just jerking me off. First, she pried her pussy open with two fingers and began to ride my cock with her inner labia lengthwise, before she pressed her thighs together and clamped my glans between them. Seeing my glans under her dark little bush was utterly beguiling. I wished I had had a camera: as cute and endearing her little lap was, seeing a cock peeking out in the middle was the sight of the year if not the decade, especially since that cock was mine. Oh, good salacious Lord! Of course, the memory of the young ladyboy in my niece Giang’s mother’s hair salon was passing like a fluffy summer cloud in my mind’s eye.

Hanh poured some more oil between her thighs and started bobbing up and down, masturbating me with her firm, soft flesh. Just like most women’s, the insides of her thighs touched about half-way down towards the knees, which left just enough space to accommodate a cock between them close to her pussy. When she started to move up and down slowly, my foreskin closed over my glans, only to open a second later. I held her tightly and watched the whole tantalizing scene with my chin on her right shoulder. Oh, was that heavenly!

The insides of Hanh’s little thighs were softer and smoother than babies’ cheeks. And yet she found the perfect amount of pressure that she needed to drive me further to the brink. I kissed the back of her head and then her ear again, before I continued to watch my glans dis- and reappear between her young thighs. Everything was driving me insane: the superb friction on my cock, as well as the sight and our lustful whimpering and groaning. I was literally breathing down her neck and moaning into her ear, while she joyfully let her ass smack my lower belly. Eventually, I placed her hand over my glans as I knew I was going to come any moment.

While my load was rising, I cocked my head to be able to see it hit Hanh’s hand from below and then splashed, roaring and panting, against her palm, from where the cum dripped down into the caldera that her thighs had formed around my shaft. When she finally took her hand away, I saw that there was a whitish ring of jizz around my cock, and I tucked her legs between mine. Her pubic hair was soaking up the gooey liquid, which looked like grool, yet some still dripped to the floor. I pressed her cuddlesome upper body a bit and took some of the juice to caress her areolas, before we got up.

‘Phew!’ we panted in unison, and I took Hanh to the sink, so that she could wash her hands. I went to the bathroom here on the ground floor to get some toilet paper to wipe the floor. Then, I washed my hands as well and grabbed our clothes, before I took her hand and guided her upstairs. She told me she needed to pee, but I asked her if that couldn’t wait until we got to the second floor. I wanted her to pee on me but wasn’t sure if she would understand my request if it had been worded in my clumsy Vietnamese.

Once we were in the bathroom, she wanted to sit down on the toilet but, of course, I guided her to the shower, where I sat down on the floor. I told her to just piss here and realized how quiet it was. I caressed her thighs and hips, and then also her belly. When I was admiring her dense little, cum-soaked bush, she let go. Her inner labia, which were brown and slightly crinkled, were protruding a bit already, probably because she had been aroused for more than an hour.

It was uplifting and beautiful to enjoy the sight of her pussy for the first time. I had seen it briefly and touched her outer labia a bit the last time I had been here, but this was a very special moment for me. Her fluffy fur grew symmetrically around her little snatch, all the way down to her perineum. Her pussy was as small as Tuyet’s or Anna’s, but unlike theirs, it was completely framed by pitch-black delicate hair. And now there were those thick round yellowish drops, which then turned into a proper jet. I wasn’t entirely sure if she actually knew that she was peeing on me — and what she thought of it if she did — but that didn’t matter. I enjoyed the lukewarm libation like only very few others before.

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