The Old Vacant Hotel Ch. 12

The Old Vacant Hotel

Chapter 12 - A very wet Lunch

Last week, I had finally seen Sally again. Her actual name was Quynh, and she was pretty tall and had a model figure, including formidable breasts. Which had inspired me to ask her - upstairs on the secluded veranda of our favorite coffee shop - to take her bra off to, later, present me her naked boobs in public by pulling down the elastic band across the chest on her simple, light summer dress.

So that one of her boobs could snap out nonchalantly, during our conversation. Sally had liked the idea and gladly obliged, which then had led me to conceive the idea that we could walk through town together like this. During our stroll, she could occasionally pull her dress down on one side and flash her boob - or both - if there was no one in sight.

Yes, although I would have called myself a thigh-and-ass guy all day long, Sally's tits were quite something. And flashing them in semi-public places made them even hotter; particularly, since Sally appeared somewhat straight-laced, was super intelligent and hard-working, had a decent job and not exactly a taboo-breaker.

Last week, Sally had sounded super-excited about the prospect of exploring her newly-found exhibitionist side but now, her courage seemed to have left her again: Yes, she still wanted to meet with me, but do without the stroll through the narrow alley ways of our nondescript town but, instead, sit down across the street from the vacant hotel, in the park.

I wanna test it there, first, Sally had written. Okay, at least, she was going to flash her boobs, from what it sounded like. Well, readying herself for such a charming but also slightly depraved transgression would take time, of course, and so I agreed to her plan to start in the park, as I didn't want her to feel uncomfortable when she was spending time with me.

Sally offered to buy lunch and so, I promised to get us some drinks, in turn. Like almost every day in March, every year, it was warm and sunny with blue sky, and when I stopped to get us some beverages at the small store near the hotel, I could already see her sitting diagonally across the street, about thirty or forty yards away.

Sally wasn't wearing one of her ultra-light summer dresses with the nifty elastic band across her chest, it seemed, but a nicer one in mauve, under a light, blueish cardigan. I parked my Honda outside the hotel, since the wide street had an elevated median that was embellished with shrubs, flowers, and palm trees, and then hopped across with the bags with the drinks and ice.

The city had just cut the grass on the median, I noticed as I was waiting on it for a car to pass, but then I crossed the other two wide lanes. I cleared my throat, as I was approaching Sally, but still startled her, since she had expected me to pull up on my motorcycle and park it next to hers on the sidewalk, behind her back.

Between the bench on which she was sitting and the street, which wasn't busy at all around lunchtime, were perhaps seven or eight yards: first, the soft shoulder - with more freshly-cut grass - then a fairly wide sidewalk, plus a low wall and, lastly, some area of grass again, inside the park, so that we were in a public place but still somewhat secluded.

Sally was right: It was probably better to test here if she would get a kick out of flashing her boobs in public than it would have been downtown. Inside the park, there was a large shed, which looked like an old maintenance vehicle, where sometimes city workers would take their lunch break.

Yes, technically, we could be seen, which clearly added to the titillation. At least, for me. But Sally was obviously sensitive enough to realize that a secluded room wouldn't offer the thrill that we both were seeking, as she had picked the location, and I was sure that we both would get our kicks out of the somewhat bold arrangement.

I wasn't a big friend of talking about in advance what lewd things we were going to do, but there hadn't been another way, had there? I could have told my muse Nguyet, who then could have told Sally what I had in mind, but those two didn't know each other too well. They worked at the same company but in different departments.

No, that would have been pretty contrived. But I couldn't have waited for Sally to conceive the idea to flash her gorgeous boobs in public, herself. I would still be waiting. Mira would have done it, perhaps, but her flat, disc-like tits were too small to have the impact of Sally's, which were malleable and could be seen from the distance.

Nguyet's were sagging too much, and Quyen, the young HR lady from the International School, wasn't adventurous or beautiful enough. No, it was part of the appeal and allure that Sally was drop-dead gorgeous, cultivated and modest. She had even put her straw-hat back on now, which made her look like a young lady from some French Impressionist painting, with her Prince Valiant haircut.

Yes, I had always thought that Sally had fallen out of time, for the lack of a better expression. She somehow reminded me of a silent-movie star, which I had never told her, though. She was self-confident and knew she looked drop-dead gorgeous but, still: She could probably not relate to silent movies and would perhaps not take it as a compliment.

"You look lovely. As always," I told her now, after I had sat down, perpendicular to her, with my legs spread and the right thigh under the back of the bench.

Sally didn't reply but just smiled coyly, also a tad mischievously, and was now watching me checking out her substantial bosom, which was heaving nicely under the blueish fabric. Her cardigan was already unbuttoned and ready, and I even thought that I could sense her nipples through the material of her dress. Could that be? Well, if she wasn't wearing a bra...

"There was someone over there, earlier," she nodded toward the maintenance crew's abode with her chin.

I didn't see anyone, when I looked but, yes, the door was open. Around noon, though, the workers had already eaten and were now taking a well-earned nap, I surmised.

"Well, you d-don't... have to... do.it," I stammered quietly, alluding to the moment about which we both had been fantasizing for a week: "We could also just go across the street, to the hotel. Perhaps go all the way up to the roof," I added, sketching an alternative.

"Oh, no... no," Sally was quietly determined.

She turned a bit toward me and pushed her hat back, so that it was resting on her lovely head in like a 45-degree angle. Her left arm was on the back on the wooden bench, and now, she crossed her right leg over the other.

To celebrate that we were here together, able to enjoy the beautiful, warm lunch hour - after a long, grey winter, which hadn't been cold, at least - I cracked a can of beer open, which I then offered her, first. She took a modest sip, before she admitted that she only brought cookies. We agreed that we could go for lunch later, after our loin twirl across the street.

Sally now pulled her cardigan further open, to the sides, to that I would see her chest better. Yes, I definitely could sense her nipples under the fabric of her dress. They were probably pumping already. I noticed that the dress had a button-down front, while Sally enjoyed my warm shower of admiration.

Yes, her mauve dress was stunning: it looked tailored, had a top-part that resembled the color of her cardigan - but was more mauve than light-blue - while the skirt consisted of dozens of burgundy, light-blue, and mauve rectangles, while the relatively large buttons were brown, looking like wood.

Since we knew why we were here together, I reached for Sally's ample left breast, which was closer to my right hand on the back of the bench. She clearly enjoyed the tender sensation, but kept scanning our surroundings carefully to see if there wasn't anyone watching.

Apparently, there wasn't anybody, as Sally now opened the first button on her front. Of course, I still couldn't see her breast, but it increased the area of silky-smooth white skin that I was now able to admire. Plus the joy of anticipation which, I was sure, we both we beginning to feel.

I also felt an urge to kiss her, but people could have seen that from the maintenance shed. When I glanced over again, I realized that the windows were kinda high up on the walls, so that someone who wanted to watch us would had have to remain standing inside for the whole time. As of now, there wasn't much to see, though.

No, they were probably all taking a nap inside. If they were still eating lunch, they would have gathered outside, as it was a pleasant day. And so, I opened the second button on Sally's dress, which allowed me to peek at the onset of her breasts. Sally had an impish smile on her face, as if she did find everything alluring and couldn't wait for the next step.

Oh yes, I was chuffed that I had had the idea, even though we weren't walking around town for our exhibitionist game or play. But the semi-public conditions here in the park were definitely titillating enough, especially for our very first time. I felt the onset of an erection and took another sip of the beer, which I had placed back in the bag with ice to keep it cool.

About the moment I was asking myself if Sally's pussy was getting wet, she told me blatantly that she had prepared herself for backdoor sex. Well, that was good to know, but her bluntness had almost been brutal, coming from such a modest young woman. I didn't know what to say but handed her the beer can, which she finished and then disposed in the waste bin next to the bench, behind her.

The fabric of Sally's dress was a bit thicker than the one last week, but it was still pretty light. Her waist almost looked like a wasp's, and I noticed that her skirt ended like four or five inches above her knees. Which allowed me to look at the two birth marks she had on her left shin, close to her knee, which were of an odd, brownish-greenish color.

Waiting for Sally to flash her boobs seemed to impede the flow of our conversation, though. But then, talking wasn't what we had come here for, and so I just opened the third button over her chest and pressed the fabric down a bit to get a better look of her firm, soft flesh. Doing so, I checked if Sally felt queasy, but it didn't look like it.

After Sally had rearranged the fabric once more, I was now able to see a bit of her décolleté and noticed that we both were heaving and panting slightly, but then she shared that she had spoken to my muse Nguyet, at work:

"Yeah, we even had lunch together, later, in the cafeteria," she added, but then one worker stepped out of the shed between and behind two dozens of trees, perhaps 35 yards away.

He completely ignored us, however, and just went around the large shed. Well, for someone who saw us here, we were just a couple enjoying our lunch break together, although that was a bit unusual in Vietnam, where everyone tried to take a nap after the second meal of the day, which was eaten early, around eleven.

Of course, no one would have suspected that the proper young lady here would get her tits out in a moment. But, like I said, it was definitely arousing enough, here, at the park, even though no one knew what we were really up to. Sally had been right.

"Nguyet told me about the new 'clinic' across the street," Sally giggled, adding air quotes with the upper digits of her index fingers.

"Well, you could start there, as an intern or assistant," I told her semi-facetiously: "Do you still want to do that gangbang with five or six guys? You know, you kneeling on the bed, in a miniskirt, without panties, and everyone... " I was curious.

"I don't know..." replied Sally, evasively, a tad more coy than I had expected.

Perhaps, her real answer depended on how the lunch hour today would pan out.

"Do you still see your ex, Thuan, once in a while?" I asked her now to make a little conversation, as I was opening the fourth and penultimate button from the top down.

"Of course. We're still working together in the same office. I'm only there like two or three days a week, but... sure."

Interestingly, Sally sounded a bit as if she wasn't quite over him yet. There seemed to be some melancholy as well as a tender longing in her words, between the lines. Purportedly, Thuan had slept with her mother, though, while she had been on one of her frequent business trips.

Sally had never caught them red-handed, as far as I knew, but she and Thuan had been using a particular, unusual brand of condoms. Of which there were often a few missing from the desk drawer when Sally, who was still living at home, returned, while her relatively young mother, who was only 42, had always been in exceedingly good spirits.

Sally also had an enthralling younger sister, who was a college freshman now. Back then, when Sally had told me about Thuan's shenanigans at her home, I had suspected that he could also have banged her sister. Or both. But I didn't want to ask right at this moment, as we were getting ready for our chest chamber-play. The last thing we needed were tears.

And so, I reached for the enticing area of smooth young skin above the material, below her collar bones. My fingertips were garnering the first tender sensations, without crudely slipping down, inside her dress. I had taken another look around to see if the coast was clear, but then, all I was doing was touching the area of naked skin that was visible to everyone, anyway.

Oh well, fuck it! I now told myself and let my left hand glide further down on her skin. Eventually, I could feel her rough areola with its blisters on my fingertips, and Sally sighed heartily. As if I was embarrassed all of a sudden, I jerked my hand up, cleared my throat as a gesture of apology, and was out again. I only squeezed her tender bulging flesh through the fabric of her dress once more.

Sally seemed a tad disappointed, however, and now opened the last button, which was like two inches above her bellybutton. Or three, as she was fairly tall. It didn't look as if she had a clear choreography for the beguiling act, which was probably for the better. We were both breathing noticeably, but now she took courage and lifted her right breast out of her dress with her left hand.

To cover up her wonderfully outrageous act, she rearranged her cardigan a bit to block the view toward the city workers' little compound, but now, here she was: Gorgeous Sally, with one very light and fairly large breast exposed, in public. Still wearing her rakish straw-hat. Neither of us said anything, but we were looking each other deep in the eye for a while, until her plump, almost white boob caught my attention again.

What an uplifting, sensual moment it was! No, I hadn't been fooling myself: this was as good as I had envisioned it. If not better. When I reached for her breast, though, which had the diameter of a CD, it felt much lighter than I had envisioned it. Lighter than the previous week. But her areola seemed darker, almost brown.

Could that have been affected by her cycle? Anyway, I placed one bent index finger under the soft flesh to support it, before I began to rub her nipple and areola with my thumb. Sally looked relieved, proud, and happy that she had mustered the courage - and that I was so enthused.

Once more, she rearranged the fabric under her breast, so that her flesh wasn't squeezed and the shapely bulge not distorted, but then relaxed and offered me her perfect fruit to play with. I decidedly felt my cock answering in my pants, before I playfully tried to reshape her flesh, which wasn't a hemisphere but no perfect ball, either, of course.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" I asked her quietly - and more or less rhetorically.

Sally only nodded and adjusted her straw-hat, but then I took her sweet flesh between my thumb and index finger to squeeze it more heartily from below, while I was admiring the stunning, whole and complete young woman: her face, chest, body, and legs. Even her straw-hat.

As if Sally had noticed that I hadn't really taken a good look of her legs, she now pulled her skirt up to show off her long, almost white and extremely shapely thighs. Since she was sitting on the dress, she lifted up her butt to pull the fabric out, toward the back.

Now, she was touching on the bench directly with her skin, but it was a warm day, so that it wouldn't be unpleasant. For those five seconds to rearrange herself a bit, she had covered her boob with her cardigan, but now she self-confidently was showing off her tender bulge again, after she had adjusted the fabric around her shoulders once more.

"Is this turning you on?" I inquired, almost whispering.

"Definitely. I love the idea, yes. I'm glad you suggested it... I mean, I don't do such things with Vu..."

That was her current boyfriend, a former student of mine.

"Just propose it. He'd be in," I replied, not facetious at all, as I was caressing her tender flesh - like I had just fallen in love.

Since we couldn't sit here like this forever - I had asked myself already what underwear she was wearing and if she was getting wet between her labia - I placed my right hand on her left butt cheek and pressed upward. Sally shifted her weight onto her right thigh, which was further away from me.

This lifted up her left butt cheek by three or four inches, and now I rearranged her dress, so that I was able to see her left leg completely. Sally was twisting her upper body a bit, so that her right shoulder was still touching the back of the bench, but her butt was almost vertical now and kinda close to me.

Looking at her left shoulder, I caressed her ultra-long left thigh, directly in front of me, while I was listening to my shaft pumping in my pants:

"I wish I could just get my cock out," I admitted, panting.

If Sally had insisted, I would probably have done it, but she didn't say so. Instead, I placed my hand under her left butt cheek, under her dress, to fondle the much firmer flesh there. I mean, that was what Sally wanted, after she had shifted her weight and rearranged her seating position, wasn't it?

My middle finger was tapping her butt crack and then her sphincter, which seemed oily or greasy and wet, though. Oh! When I pulled my finger back to check and sniff it, I must have looked distraught, but Sally only chuckled:

"That's the cream Vu and I always use for anal sex. We put it in like an hour before, so it warms up..."

As I still looked perplex perhaps, Sally explained further:

"So that we don't have to interrupt what we're doing."

Ok, then. What she did now, though, perhaps to distract me, was world-class: She leaned even further away from me, which brought up her vertical butt even higher, but then she pulled her skirt upward, so that I could see her naked ass. Well, she was wearing a spiffy black string-tanga, which looked new, but the thing was so flimsy that it didn't even cover her anus caldera fully.

Yes, the string in the back was perhaps only a third-of-an-inch wide, and I could clearly see her oily, glistening sphincter pumping, which was hot and a tad gross, at the same time. No, it was dazzling and tantalizing to witness this smart and conscientious young woman exposing herself like that in public. Her pumping anus eye, man!

I wasn't sure if I had ever told her, but Sally's rosette was the most beautiful I knew: It was very evenly serrated and reminded me of a corded-up little pouch or bag, seen from inside. And right now, it was pumping toward me invitingly, in public. Now that I knew what the oily discharge war, I rimmed her caldera a bit more, before I used another finger to briefly fondle her greasy labia.