White Guy in Vietnam Ch. 03

As my eyes travel upward, I take in the top of her bathing suit. It's more akin to a set of straps than traditional swimwear. The thin bands crisscross over her chest, leaving much of her upper body exposed. Her small, a-cup breasts are also adorned with ink.

"Well, quit gawking and get changed," Layla playfully chirps.

Jericho and I stand up and rifle through our bags for our suits. While we're doing that, I catch a snippet of conversation in Vietnamese between Lynn and Layla. The two friends seem to be in animated discussion, and I wonder what's being said.

Jericho's voice cuts through my curiosity, "Lynn not bring a bathing suit. She need one from Layla."

Curiosity piqued, I turn my head to watch as Layla reaches into her bag to grab something and hand it to Lynn. At first all I see is a handful of blue material, then Lynn holds up the top, it's not quite as daring as what Lynn is wearing, a teardrop design. Lynn looks at it for a moment, turning it over in her hands. With a small nod, she places it on the counter, a silent approval of the selection.

Next, Lynn lifts the bottoms. Again, thankfully for Lynn I'm sure, it's not a thong, nor is it as exposed in the front, but Lynn holds this one up longer. There is some dialogue back and forth between Lynn and Layla. The dialogue seems to hold a mix of reassurance and encouragement.

"Oh man," Jericho's voice bubbles with excitement, breaking through the dialogue. His grin is infectious as he leans toward me. "Lynn say she got to shave if she wear this bikini. I ask her to shave for long time but she don't. Now Layla say she going to shave her and she OK."

I see Layla reach into her bag and pull out a razor.

"See you later boys," Layla chimes as she waves and drags Lynn into the bathroom.

Jericho use the opportunity to strip and put on our own suits. We both prop ourselves up on the hotel beds and wait in anticipation. The sounds of water running and giggling come from the bathroom. After some time, Layla emerges, looking hot as ever.

"The moment you've been waiting for has arrived," she declares. "Presenting the sexiest housewife on Nha Trang beach."

Lynn steps out of the bathroom a flush of crimson coloring her cheeks. I can't tell if it's from the lingering effects of alcohol or from a sense of embarrassment. But she looks hot. Her unmarked skin and curves contrast with Layla's tattooed petite figure. The girls managed to fit her c-cup boobs into the teardrop bikini. Somehow, the bikini manages to contain them, even as they appear as if they might break free any moment.

I look at her bottoms and see the high waisted bikini that accentuates her perfect hips. I notice her pubic area is still slightly red from her recent shave.

In the midst of my observations, Layla grabs her and turn her around. Her perfect round butt is outlined and half exposed by the cheeky bikini.

"And look at that ass boys," Layla says before giving her it a slap. The impact sends a ripple through the supple flesh.

Lynn dances away from her friend and runs to the other side of the room, seeming overly embarrassed by the display. My gaze falls on her chest, revealing the telltale sign of her arousal--her nipples, now conspicuously erect against the fabric of her bikini top, giving away just how much she enjoyed modelling for us.

Layla and Lynn each grab a wrap to drape around their waists. We all walk down to the lobby. As we do, we pass by the chubby maid from earlier. I look back and we make eye contact. At which point she points to me, then to herself and mimes giving a blowjob. I give a confused look to my friends.

"I sent her the photo," Layla explains with a sly wink.

I'm still trying to process this unexpected revelation when Jericho chimes in, his curiosity piqued. "What photo?"

Layla and I share a secret grin. In unison, we respond, "Oh, nothing."

We arrive at Nha Trang beach after a short walk, greeted by the bustling crowd. It's early afternoon, and the beach is predominantly occupied by tourists; locals tend to arrive later, as the sun begins its descent.

Layla and Lynn guide us to an available row of beach chairs shaded by an umbrella. We casually toss down our day bags. Jericho and I decide it's time to shed our shirts. I peel off my shirt and then glance over at Layla, she removes the wrap from her waist, followed by her bikini top. She's left standing there in just her tiny pink thong.

Lynn glances at her friend, but is clearly not feeling as confident, even after her modelling session in the room. She chooses to leave both the wrap and her top on before grabbing a seat on the cushioned sun lounger in the shade.

Moments later, a young Vietnamese waiter, sporting khaki shorts and a light-blue polo shirt, approaches our group. He makes a beeline for me, perhaps assuming that the only white guy in the bunch will handle the bill.

"The chairs are 10,000 Dong for the day. Can I also get you something to drink?" he inquires.

"Sure, maybe a round of Heineken and some waters?" I reply, rummaging in my daypack for my wallet.

"Of course," the waiter calculates. "That will be 140,000 Dong."

I retrieve my wallet from the bag and, while searching for cash, glance up at the waiter. Behind his sunglasses, I can sense his eyes fixed on Layla. I shift my gaze to her; she appears blissfully unaware of her new admirer. Absentmindedly, she examines her petite breasts, raising one and flicking some sand from her tiny areola.

I hand 200,000 Dong to the waiter, who hurriedly redirects his attention to me.

"Thanks," he stammers, extracting a change purse from his pocket.

The waiter, however, takes an eternity to count out the change, his attention now fully captivated by Layla's presence. I sneak another glance in her direction. She's hooked her thumbs around the waistband of her bikini bottoms, lifting them slightly outward, revealing her smooth, bare pussy lips--both to me and the unwitting waiter. While it's plausible she's simply adjusting her attire, I know Layla well enough to recognize her playful game.

Finally, the waiter finishes counting out 60,000 Dong as change. "Your change, sir."

I respond with a casual, "Keep it."

"Oh thank you sir," the waiter says, who places the change in his pocket, adjacent to a growing bulge.

As the waiter retreats to the tiki bar to fetch our drinks, I prop myself up on one elbow and shoot Layla an inquisitive look.

"What?" she challenges with feigned innocence.

The waiter returns with our drinks shortly after, and Layla decides to let him off the hook for the time being. We enjoy a few more rounds of drinks and some delicious food. It's a relaxing time as we savor the beach atmosphere.

Jericho suddenly brightens up and suggests, "Want to take a walk along the beach, buddy?"

"Ya, sounds good." I reply.

"Alright, lets do some bird watching, man." Jericho replies gleefully. Despite being slightly older than me and married, I have to laugh at Jericho's childishness.

Nha Trang Beach is an impressive expanse that stretches almost the entire length of the city. At one end, a distinctive lotus-shaped tower marked the boundary, while a row of private beach clubs staked their claim at the other. The water is in a protected bay, so the waves are relatively tame.

At this time of day, the tourists were mostly white. Generally Western backpackers interspersed with Slavic families. Jericho was like a starving man at a buffet. He kept on pointing out all the skimpy bathing suits and topless women. And I mean literally pointing them out.

"Keep your hand down, man," I chided Jericho as he aimed a not-so-discreet finger towards an Eastern European woman who was laying face down wearing a black thong bikini.

"Sorry, sorry," Jericho grinned, retracting his arm. "So hot though hey man?"

"Ya buddy, she's got a nice ass," I reply to Jericho.

"I wish that my wife," Jericho said, a touch of wistfulness in his voice, "I wish my wife just lay out here with her bum out so everybody think she so hot. Instead, she wrap herself up and sit under the umbrella."

I was puzzled. "What are you talking about Jericho?" I reply curiously as we continue our walk down the beach in the direction of our beach chairs, "She looks amazing in that blue set that Layla brought for her."

"You think so man?" Jericho's questioning was confusing to me, given that Lynn had indeed looked amazing in her bikini earlier. "I'm glad you liked looking at her, I just wish she so confident like Layla you know what I mean. Like, I wish she walk down the beach with us in that bikini and some backpacker sitting on the beach he see her tits jiggling and he get horny looking at her. Then he think like, 'wow that Vietnamese guy, he got a sexy wife, I wish I can fuck her.' You know what I mean man?"

"Yeah, I guess," I replied, although I still didn't fully understand what Jericho meant.

We had nearly returned to our beach chairs when Jericho grabbed my arm. "Just wait, man," he stated abruptly.

"What's wrong?" I said concerned.

"Look like Layla got a new friend now," Jericho said excitedly.

I look up to see Layla perched on her elbows, puffing her tiny chest out as much as it will go, deeply engaged in conversation. Her new admirer is an absolute unit. He was a tall black man, head and shoulders above most people around. His hairless body was a spectacle of muscles upon muscles. He wore a tight-fitting red boxer-brief style bathing suit that clung to his impressive bum - no, you couldn't call it a bum, it was pure glutes.

Our curiosity was thoroughly piqued as we continued to observe Layla's animated conversation with the towering black man. Lynn sat in the adjacent beach chair, but she made herself seem invisible as she kept herself covered with her wrap, purposefully avoiding any interaction with the stranger.

After a minute of talking, Layla reached down into her beach bag and retrieved a bottle of sun lotion, which she proceeded to pass over to the stranger before turning over. The stranger proceeded to pour a string of lotion in a zig zag pattern across Layla's back, and then up and down each leg.

With surprising care, the stranger closed the cap of the lotion and straddled Layla in her beach chair, revealing a remarkable size difference. His massive, muscular quads dwarfed Layla's entire lower body.

I watched as his big meaty hands smothered Layla's back while rubbing the lotion in circles. He rubbed up to her shoulders, and then pulled the lotion down Layla's arms. His hands were big enough to fully encircle her arms as he did.

He then shifted his body down on the beach chair, so he was kneeling above her feet before massaging the lotion into her calves. He worked his way up, over the backs of her knees, into her thighs.

We watched as his sausage sized thumbs worked the lotion in circles along her inner thighs all the way up to the point where her bum meets her thighs. He then rolled his fingers up over her exposed bum. His fingertips slipping under the lines of her thong bikini. While there, he used his thumb to work the base of her glutes in a slow massage squeezing open her tight little ass. He did this for longer than necessary before giving her right cheek a slap and dismounting with a smile.

Jericho and I decided it was now time to return.

"Hey guys, we're back," I announced as we strolled up to the group, so as not to startle them.

"Hey boys," Layla rolled back over and waved at us with a mischievous smile. "I've made a new friend."

"We see that," I replied.

"Hi guys, I'm Nick," The black man said to us in a deep, rumbling, but friendly voice.

"Yes, that's Nick, Nick with the dick," Layla said laughing. After hearing that, I couldn't help but glance down at Nick's red boxer brief swimwear, and I was stunned. His cock strained against the tight fabric, the imprint of it reaching all the way to the midpoint of his left thigh.

"Nick, just Nick, please," Nick laughed while reaching out his hand to shake hands with me and Jericho. "This ain't one of your girls, is it?"

"This my wife over there," Jericho said while pointing to Lynn, who was still hidden under her beach wrap but had poked her head out to see us return. "But this girl, Layla, she single, man."

"Oh I'm sorry ma'am, I didn't know you were with Layla," Nick approached Lynn to shake her hand as well.

Lynn, not understanding any English, was still shy around Nick, but understood the gesture enough to reach out her hand and shake his. In doing so, she dropped her wrap since the first time coming to the beach and I was treated with the sight of those beautiful tits in her blue top once again.

"Anyways, ya'll are together, I don't want to interrupt, I'mma head to the bar," Nick said politely.

"No way man, you stay, you grab chair sit with Layla," Jericho replied excitedly.

"Alright alright man, I'll try ya," Nick replied.

We remained at the beach for several more hours, ordering several rounds of drinks and savoring some chewy, but delicious, barbecued squid paired with sriracha for dinner. Nick and Layla flirted like kids the entire time.

As the sun began to set, Layla made an announcement, "All right, you lovebirds can have the hotel tonight, I'm going clubbing with Nick, don't wait up for me."

"Yo, nice to meet you guys, you have fun here, aight" Nick said with a wave and a smile, while Layla stood up and put her bikini top and wrap back on. The two of them walked off hand-in-hand towards a nearby restaurant / bar.

Lynn then started to say something to Jericho in Vietnamese, and they had a back-and-forth conversation.

"Lynn, she want to go back hotel," Jericho said. "I said we drink couple more beers first, she agree."

"Sure man, whatever you think," I replied.

A couple more beers turned into a couple more hours. We stayed at the beach until the sun had set, enjoying each others company while the stars came up. We had pushed our beach chairs together so that we could all hang out. Lynn was in the middle of Jericho and me. She'd gotten much more relaxed since Layla and Nick left.

The whole time, Lynn was doting over the two of us. Feeding us food, making sure our beer was full. Lynn and Jericho were both laughing. It's the first time I can actually remember them being happy as a couple together.

At one point, we found ourselves nestled closely together. Both Jericho and I had our arms wrapped around Lynn's shoulders, and Lynn had a leg draped over each of us. She pointed excitedly at the stars, and I, with Jericho's help, explained to her how they appeared differently back in Canada.

After that intimate moment, Jericho interjected. "Ok guys, I think now we go back."

We made our way back to the hotel, with Lynn comfortably sandwiched between Jericho and me, holding onto each of our hands. We were all slightly buzzed from full day of drinking. We laughed while meandering through the evening foot traffic in the main tourist drag.

When we arrived in our hotel room, Lynn plopped down into one of the chairs with more force than I'd typically seen from her, giving away how much she'd had to drink during the day. Jericho went over to the mini-bar, extracting a petite bottle of wine, which he skillfully poured into glasses for both Lynn and himself.

"You take first shower, man. Wash off that beach sand. Lynn and I go next," Jericho instructed to me.

I walked to the bathroom. After turning on the faucet, I reached for the handheld wand, allowing the refreshing stream to wash away the remnants of sand and salt from my hair and chest. I discarded my swimming trunks and continued to cleanse myself thoroughly. I tried not to waste time, as I knew Jericho and Lynn were awaiting their turn.

After a brisk rinse, I reached for a nearby towel, swiftly drying off before securing it around my waist. I stepped out of the bathroom and found Jericho and Lynn engrossed in a lively conversation, Lynn was laughing at something Jericho had just said.

Jericho swiveled his head in my direction, "Oh you done already, man. You fast. Alright, come here, sit down, you drink this, we go shower."

Jericho seized my arm, guiding me to his previous spot. He grabbed Lynn's partially filled wine glass and emptied it into his own before firmly placing it into my hand. I didn't know how I felt about drinking their combined leftovers but I didn't turn it down either.

"Stay in your towel, just relax man, we done soon," Jericho reassured me with a sense of authority. Puzzled by his directions, I remained in my seat, nodding in agreement, and took a sip from the amalgamated wine glass. With that, Jericho grasped Lynn's arm, ushering her into the bathroom with him.

I remained seated, taking occasional sips from the wine in my hand. In the quiet of the room, every sound from the bathroom seemed amplified. First, there was the rush of water as the shower came to life, followed by a sudden shriek and some curt, playful language from Lynn, all directed at Jericho. This ended in some shared laughter. The playful laughing and splashing continued for a few minutes.

As time passed, the laughter subsided, and the tone changed. I heard some forced bravado from Jericho. Everything was in Vietnamese so I couldn't say exactly what was said, but it was clearly some mock sexy boy speech. Lynn responded in turn with an equally over the top sultry response. This exchange was followed by the unmistakable sounds of wet hands playfully making contact with soft flesh. This was followed by rhythmic sloshing and gentle, teasing noises.

The laughter and chatter had now died out completely. My senses were on high alert, and the fog of alcohol had lifted, leaving me acutely aware of every sound emanating from the bathroom. It felt as if I had become an inadvertent voyeur.

The sounds of the shower running acted like a sonic veil, but through that mask, I heard a very quick rhythmic pulsing accompanied by soft moans from Lynn. The sound was too fast to be Jericho fucking Lynn. Instead, it sounded like his fingers were plunging into Lynn's eager pussy.

Amid the muted ambiance of the shower, Lynn's soft moans began to intensify, growing more urgent and fervent. She repeated a lewd and explicit phrase persistently, the words escaping my understanding but leaving no doubt about their nature. Her crescendoing moans signaled an impending climax, but just as she teetered on the edge, everything fell silent. The sloshing sound ceased abruptly.

Lynn's voice broke the silence, sharp with frustration as she directed her words at Jericho. I didn't need to speak Vietnamese to know what she said, "What the fuck, why did you stop?"

Jericho said something back, calmly and mischievously.

Lynn's anger dissipated; she responded back with a simple one-word question.

Jericho replied in the affirmative and then the sound died.

Two minutes of silence passed before the door to the bathroom swung open and the light cast a ray into the rest of the hotel room. I averted my eyes in a pretense, attempting to convey that I hadn't been eavesdropping for the past ten minutes. It was clear that they were playing along, continuing as if I were invisible.

Jericho was the first to step out of the bathroom, striding into the room entirely nude, devoid of any pretense. His modest two-inch Vietnamese member stood proudly at full mast, its head barely peeking out from the scraggly tangle of Asian pubic hair.

Lynn followed just behind her husband. She strolled into the room just as confident and seemingly unaware of my presence as him. Her hair was still wet and matted from the shower. I was treated, for the first time, the sight of her fully nude body.

Something about her being naked made her appear shorter. I took in her breasts first, plump but firm. They held themselves up curving away from the center of her body. Her tummy appeared smooth and flat, inviting to the touch, with a deep belly button serving as an enticing focal point. My gaze continued its descent, eventually settling on her recently shaved slit nestled between her gentle thighs.