Turnabout

byYDB95©

Early summer had found him on a long detail traveling and working throughout Southeast Asia. It was an all-new experience for the young American businessman, hot and sticky and crowded and sometimes primitive in comparison to what he was used to back in Chicago, not to mention being a minority for the first time. But he had greatly enjoyed being in a part of the world where a man could still gawk at women to his heart's content; and he had. Besides, the work had proven lucrative and by August he'd earned a couple of weeks to himself. Time to finally enjoy the region's exalted beaches! He'd heard again and again how they were among the world's best, and now he had nothing but time to find out. Sun and sand were best, but most of all he was after the easy Asian women he'd heard so much about. None of this politically correct silliness from back home, here a man could be a man, and stare to his heart's content. And he had every intention of ogling all he wanted.

Asking around among the locals and other expats about just where to go, he soon settled on the east coast of Malaysia. Not so much because of what he'd heard about it as because of what he'd heard about the other options. Phuket and Bali got the highest marks for their busy tourist strips and wild nightlife -- but that was just what he didn't want. He wanted quiet time on the sand and in the water without bumping into dozens of other tourists every way he turned. All the better to admire the ladies up close and personal, and enough privacy to hit on them in peace. That was getting harder to find, of course, but a close look at a couple of tour books found him settling on one promising beach town with a name too long for him to pronounce. There was a Club Med on the way just up the road, but it wouldn't be open for another year or two. That meant two things to him: it wasn't yet commercialized, and this could be his last chance to see it before that changed. Not to mention all the lovely native ladies who would surely be ready to party with the rare white guy who showed up.

With that settled, it was just a matter of a flight into Kuala Lumpur and then a bus out to the coast and a taxi from the nearest bus station, thirty kilometers or so away. He arrived just before dusk on a weekday, too late for a swim but with just enough light left to know he'd made the right choice: coconut trees, quaint noodle shops with electric lights catering to just a few hungry tourists, and a quiet beach road which the occasional monkey could be seen crossing casually. Though going in the water was now out of the question, he did make the very short walk across the beach road to have a good look at the secluded shore. A lovely crescent-shaped beach with tree-lined hills off on one side of the horizon and the boundless sea on the other, it would surely make for a lovely day tomorrow. He could only hope the beach would remain nearly as deserted as it was just then. Just a few bathing beauties were all he needed, and with the water not too crowded maybe he could bag one right in the surf.

And then it was back across the road to his hotel. It was a series of tiny huts, each one standing alone with the most basic of concessions, cheap and rickety but air-conditioned with a comfortable bed. That was all he needed on his first night after the trip, and he was looking forward to a leisurely sleep that would surely last well into the next morning.

On his way through the courtyard between the huts, he saw her -- one of the pair -- for the first time. In the dim light, she was just a figure at first, albeit a delightfully shapely one, standing by one of the several laden clotheslines outside the cottages. As he drew closer, he saw the young woman was a Westerner like him, the first he'd seen in some time. She was in a bikini, collecting t-shirts and underwear off the line. He made no effort to hide his titillation at her body and the underclothes she was collecting as he walked by.

She looked up and saw him staring at her. "Good evening," she said, in an accent he guessed was Australian.

"Hi there," he answered, checking her out shamelessly -- it had been a very long summer, cooped up in those sterile office buildings, and after all this was politically incorrect country where a man could still be a man. Her curly brown hair was carelessly brushed in the relaxed atmosphere, but it hung pleasantly every which way, and the skimpy swimsuit hugged her firm tall body enticingly. "Looks like you're enjoying the beach, dear. You here on summer vacation?"

"Summer vacation?" she asked. "It's winter where we come from. No, we're on holiday from work."

"Work?" he asked, surprised. "You look very young. Just the right age for a bikini like that."

She cast him a wary, uncomfortable look, which he mistook for gratitude at his flattery. "Just got in tonight," he explained with a grin. "See you there tomorrow, to share the water with me in that nice tight bikini?"

"Keep dreaming," she told him with a firm look, and turned to go back to her hut. He noticed with a thrill that there was no sign of men's clothes on the line or in her hands. Alone? With a girlfriend? He'd find out tomorrow, with any luck.

Sure enough, he did. After a leisurely late breakfast the next morning, he made his way down to the beach and saw his new friend lounging on the sand just above the tide, attired in a different but equally revealing bikini. She was watching another young woman -- her fellow tourist, he guessed -- emerge from the water. The friend wore an even flashier suit, its silver fabric casting dazzling reflections in the bright sun, and her long red hair was streaked back as she strode out of the water. No doubt they were dying for attention from a red-blooded male like him! He made no effort at all to hide his titillation as he admired her, and soon enough he'd caught her eye as well. Her smile faded as she took in his relentless stare, and eventually her friend turned around to see him rooted to the sand, shirtless and utterly lacking in self-consciousness about his own body that was showing the signs of no time for the gym all summer -- and which was also showing the telltale sign of being turned on by the view. The brunette nodded at him and then turned back to her friend.

He set down his beach blanket and lay down on his back, but never completely took his eyes off the two friends. He also made no effort to hide the bulge in his swimming trunks; no doubt they'd love that once they noticed it. They were now huddled closely in the sand, talking about something. He waited patiently for them to turn back to him, but they never did. Eventually they stood up, hand in hand, and waded off into the water. Playing hard to get, were they? Well, he knew how to play that game! He enjoyed the view of their barely-clad asses disappearing into the surf for as long as it was available, then finally turned to survey the rest of the scene.

The beach was sparsely attended, just as he had hoped, and there was an unlikely mix of conservatively-dressed locals -- even women in full head-to-toe regalia -- and Westerners dressed just as skimpily as his two new friends were. He couldn't be sure if it was just his imagination, or if the few male locals had to struggle to avoid admiring the pale-skinned sunbathers with their acres of visible flesh. The idea set his imagination reeling...maybe one of those lovely ladies would finally decide she'd had enough of the sun and return to her cottage to peel off her swimsuit and play with herself in the cool air indoors, and casually forget to draw the curtains. If one of those local guys got an eyeful of that, then what? Just what contortions of contrition would he have to go through in order to save his soul? Would he even want to bother once he'd seen her charms on display?

The wonderfully politically incorrect fantasy got him so wound up he had to run for the water to keep his last scrap of modesty intact. Safe in the water, he was free to rub himself any way he liked, and he exulted in the feeling of his rigid cock rubbing against the taut fabric of his trunks and his hand making circles around it as he splashed around just below the waterline. He looked around for his two friends, thinking he might want to join them once he'd calmed down; but they had returned to shore. He saw them toweling off, and one of them made wary eye contact with him once and then turned away just as quickly.

Naturally, a successful young businessman like himself did not give up that easily. He kept his eye out for the lovely pair from then on, and that very evening he saw them both at the beachside restaurant where he headed after the beach for dinner. They were both resplendent in colorful sundresses, their hair now dry and combed for a change, and they were sharing a laugh over a bottle of beer when he settled himself discreetly at the next table. Confident that they would enjoy the view as much as he did, he gazed shamelessly at them just as he had done with every woman or girl he'd taken a fancy to since middle school. He was close enough to hear the redhead was also Australian, and let his mind run wild with all the rumors he'd heard about how wild Aussie gals were in the sack. He would find out for sure with one or both of them before the trip was up, that was beyond question.

It was not to be that evening, however. He hadn't been admiring them but for a few minutes before the brunette looked up to catch his gaze. She stopped chatting about whatever topic had been on tap, and said, "Well hello again" to him.

"Good evening," he said with a grin.

"How'd you like the beach?" she asked.

"Loved it, thanks. Beautiful view. And the beach was lovely as well."

"Wasn't it, though." Then both of them nodded at him and turned back to their conversation, though it was far more subdued than before. He continued to regard them, a grin pasted to his face, despite their having returned to addressing only one another.

When he hadn't looked away after a few minutes, the redhead looked up to meet his stare again. "Is something the matter?" she asked him.

"Hardly!" he said. "Like I said, just enjoying the view. It's not often a man finds such lovely specimens as you in a place like this anymore."

The brunette snapped to attention now. "Look, sir --"

"Don't," the redhead told her, taking her hand. "It's not going to help, not here. Let's go." And without another word, they both got up and left. He once again admired the receding figures, their loud dresses swishing pleasantly around their hips and legs as they headed back for the cottages.

He continued his voyeurism against them for the next couple of days, taking any look he could get, never even trying to hide his prurient interests. Whether it was on the beach or at the restaurant or the bar or the gift-shop down the road, he gawked at the two lovely ladies from a safe distance, not caring if they knew he was there. When they spotted him, there was an inevitable moment of uncomfortable eye contact, but neither of them spoke to him again. This did not faze him, as he was always confident that they were just building up his interest to the point where he would be as irresistible to them as they were to him.

And he saw nearly everything. On returning to his cottage on the third evening, he very nearly caught a glimpse of the redhead taking off her bikini top in their cottage. She spotted him and yanked the curtains shut just in time, and he stood and glared shamelessly at the window for a few minutes, hoping to at least make out her silhouette through the thin cloth. He had no concerns about being reported for harassment: In a conservative country such as this, he knew he could count on the men in charge of the hotel taking his side -- who wouldn't try to get a look at such a lovely pair of breasts, and why wouldn't she appreciate his horny stares anyway? It was merely the price of being beautiful, after all.

The next day, he was confident his near-miss would at long last make for a conversational piece with his two new friends. That was all he needed to finally get an in with one or both of them. But he got off to a slow start thanks to a leisurely brunch at the hotel with a few too many spiked mango juices, and on his arrival at the beach in midafternoon, he found they weren't around. Nor were there any other Westerners on the sand or in the water that he could see, though one local family was sitting up the beach looking discreetly away from him. Though disappointed that his two friends weren't around, he found the relative solitude appealing. It gave him a chance to do something he'd wanted to try ever since that very horny dip in the water on the first day. The water had felt so good, but his trunks had felt horribly in the way in that ever-so-sensuous moment, and he'd hoped for a chance at just a bit of privacy ever since. Now, at last, he had it.

He spread out his blanket carefully, just above the tideline so it wouldn't be a long walk into the water, and sat down for a modicum of privacy. Looking up the way at the local family on the sand, he waited until he was sure they weren't paying him any mind, and slipped his trunks off. The warm sun felt delightful on his bare cock, which was now springing to attention due to the sheer forbiddenness of it all, and at first he just sat there and exulted in the wonderful freedom. Another wary glance up at the folks up the beach, and a look out at the water to gauge how quickly he could get safely beneath the waves, and gingerly he stood up. Keeping his back turned in case one of the locals noticed him, he ran awkwardly sideways for the water.

Sure enough, one of the locals did notice, and he knew it because he heard someone's shrieking laughter before the water was deep enough for him to throw himself in. But his mild embarrassment was well worth it as he felt the clean, cool water envelop him completely. With nothing weighing him down, he was free to exult completely in the sensation against every inch of his skin. This was fine! Any unwanted attention he was still getting from the family on the beach was easily ignored; he simply didn't look in their direction. They'd get over seeing him, and he cared little about having been seen.

Naturally, he lost all track of time as he frolicked uninhibitedly in the water. Occasionally he was aware of other people in the water, but they were far away enough to be unaware of his nudity. His privacy thusly assured, he enjoyed himself for an hour or more before he had finally worked up the nerve to look for the family on the beach. When he did, to his relief they were gone. Better yet, he finally saw his two friends. As the sun was beginning to sink into the watery horizon, their timing couldn't have been better! Soon enough it would be dark enough to provide one or both of them the privacy for some playtime with him. The redhead was once again wearing her silver bikini, while the brunette was in a green one. They were approaching his section of the beach, but he felt safe in assuming they would keep their distance when they saw his blanket. He preferred it that way, of course, because they didn't need to see him like this. It was all well and good for him to drink in their beauty, but he knew all about what women thought of men's bodies. He'd heard it all so very many times before. And of course he didn't care to be stared at even with his clothes on, much less with them off. The great thing about being a man, he always figured, was no one wanted to stare at him.

He, of course, wanted his usual look at them while it was available, so he had no qualms about staring at them from his safe point in the water. And so it was that his titillation turned to mild concern as he saw they did not stop at a respectable distance, and then to strong concern as he realized they seemed to be heading straight for his blanket, and then to outright panic as he saw the both of them smiling back at him for once. Had they discovered his secret? If they hadn't yet, they surely would when they got to his blanket and saw his trunks discarded there.

A few moments later, he knew that they knew. They finally tore their gazes away from him and to his blanket. Helplessly he watched as the brunette bent over his blanket and picked up his trunks, and waved them at him while the redhead laughed out loud. To his horror, the brunette folded up his trunks and stuffed them into her beach bag. The redhead followed suit with his blanket, and for good measure she discovered his room key where he'd hidden it in the sand underneath and put that away as well. Were they going to take his stuff back to their room and leave him high and dry in the water?

Not yet, anyway, he soon realized. They both set their bags down at the far edge of the beach, and hand in hand they jogged into the surf, both grinning ear to ear at him. Did they have no mercy? Did they even realize the position they were putting him in? To add insult to injury, he looked down to see he was rock hard. Thinking about it now, he recalled hearing erections were sometimes caused by fear, something he had never before experienced. But there was no question that he was experiencing it now.

What would they think of the matter, though? Would they misunderstand and think he still wanted to play?

He was about to find out.

The redhead got to him first, and she stopped about six feet in front of him. Just out of his reach, he realized, though he couldn't think what he might do if he could reach her anyway. "Well hello!" she said, shamelessly looking at his exposed hard penis beneath the water line. "Nice view."

"Indeed," agreed the brunette as she paddled up beside her friend. "About time we got a look, isn't it?"

"What did you do to my stuff?!" he demanded indignantly. "Don't you realize the position this puts me in?"

"Quite well, I'd say," replied the brunette.

"Indeed," said her friend. "But after all, fair's fair."

"What do you mean?!" he snapped. "How on earth is it fair that you stole my things and left me naked in the water and locked out of my room?"

"Well, let's see," mused the brunette with a wicked grin. "All week you've been gawking at us like a couple of slabs of meat, when you never even asked our names -- and I assure you, sir, you're not going to learn them now -- and last night you did all you could to see us naked in the privacy of our own hotel room."

"You have an entitlement streak a mile wide," continued the redhead, "and you clearly don't have any concerns beyond your next hard-on, do you?"

"Well, at least he's got that for now, hasn't he?" chimed in the brunette.

"That's not what you think!" he stammered. "It's...it's..."

"Fear? Humiliation?" suggested the brunette.

"Looks that way to me all right," said the redhead, "But maybe he's learning something too. What do you think?"

"I'm not that optimistic," answered her friend. "Putting up with guys like this ever since I first grew tits can do that to a gal, you know?"

"I sure do! When was the last time you walked into a pub alone and didn't get hooted at or worse?"

"Why, I don't believe it's ever happened," the brunette said. "In fact, I usually don't go in unless I have a guy friend with me for that very reason."

"If we give him back his bathing suit and keys, he'll probably go back to his old tricks," the redhead mused. "He'll still be a man, and this will just be one nasty little memory. Not a fact of life like it is for us."

"We can always hope for the best, though," the brunette said. "Maybe if we make sure he never, ever forgets this..."

Throughout their conversation, the two women never looked at each other, but rather kept their eyes glued to his mercilessly exposed body. At the last comment, he interjected, "I can promise you I never will forget it! Look, I see your point. I get it, I'm a pig. I'm sorry!"

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byYDB95© 4 comments/ 17296 views/ 1 favorites

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