Phung's Quest Ch. 02

Phung begins her Journey of Lust

My former student Phung, who was almost 30, had trouble finding a husband. Her long-term boyfriend had strung her along for three years, after he had moved to Japan, but recently they had broken up. Phung was pretty choosy, though, and had set her mind on findinga foreigner in his thirties, with a career, not divorced, who is faithful and kind, she had told me.

Phung was hoping that I would be able to assist her in finding such rare speci-man and, about a week back, she had asked me to visit her at her parents' house in the countryside to talk about this delicate mission.So, I had thought.

But Phung had already been two steps ahead: So that she wouldn't be completely stumped when she finally met her prince, she wanted me to break her in. A thought which had been sparked by the fact that she unexpectedly would be here, in our province, for the next few months to take online classes for a Master's degree as well as the fact, possibly, that I was married to a Vietnamese lady.

Phung was around five foot tall and blessed with a stunning, athletic body. Her mature face wasn't the most striking but pleasant enough, and she had been surprisingly open during my first visit at her home: Although she was menstruating and not expecting getting banged, she hesitatingly offered herself, as hungry as she was - and now, we were writing back and forth every day how she could garner more sexual experience in wholesome ways:

Mister Douglas, I have so many questions: What shall I wear the next time, for instance?Phung had asked me already on Saturday morning. Luckily, she had about forty photos of herself on Facebook, of which I downloaded around ten, which I then sent back to her with charming and saucy little notes.

Interestingly, Phung didn't comment on what I had said or tell me which outfit she would pick for my next visit to her parents' house. Which was for the better, though, since I didn't want to know beforehand what to expect, as that wouldn't allow any sensual tension to build up. As many photos as I had sent her, I didn't even recall what I had said about each when I was done, however.

Some of the clothes I don't have anymore, Phung apologized in the evening, after she had maybe rummaged through her wardrobe, but then she also reminded me thatwe need to talk about marriage and related stuff.

Sure, any time you want, Phung, I promised her.

On Sunday, we continued our titillating messaging, until Phung discovered one core issue in regard to sensuality:

Why is it that dresses and skirts are more erotic than pants?she was curious; perhaps, because I had only sent her pictures in which she had been wearing said items.

As it took me a long time every morning to get going, I only replied that I would explain the nexus between clothes and eroticism to her when we would see each other the next time. Which prompted her, of course, to ask when that would be:

Well, your period was over on Friday, so you will be ovulating about ten days from now. In other words, we should see each other as soon as possible to be reasonably safe. Maybe on Tuesday?

Although I was married, I couldn't stop thinking about her petite, athletic body, which I had only briefly seen naked in the shower, the previous time. Since Phung had been menstruating, I hadn't licked her pussy yet, either, which I kept obsessing about on Sunday evening. Or, we should slow down; after all, we had all fall to explore each other's orifices:

Phung, we could also wait, until you're ovulating. The last time you said that you've never really seen cum, for instance. I could jerk off on your face or boobs, I thus suggested, but she was too eager and, also, horny:

No, Mister Douglas, it felt so nice when your thing was inside me. I want to experience that again as soon as possible. And on Tuesday, I won't be bleeding, so we can do everything, she responded.

Oh, well. Since Phung had exposed her body and her soul, I was apparently obligated now to serve her wishes and needs - and foster her sensual enlightenment - over the next weeks and months. This was an odd form of bind, as it also had an extortive element, but that also added more spice to our relationship.

Yes, the more I thought about it, the more Phung resembled Eliza Dolittle, who also wanted to get something from her Henry Higgins which she knew she couldn't achieve by herself. Just as Eliza, Phung had been the driving force, so far, but she was, oddly enough, also in the driver's seat now.

Sometimes, I had a hunch that this wouldn't end well, as chipper as it had begun. I recalled the conversation again which we had had a few days ago in the shower, after our first sexual encounter, during which she had made it clear that I couldn't change my mind now, after she had opened up - figuratively and literally.

Would Phung threaten to tell my wife that I had banged her if I wanted to discontinue? This was certainly far-fetched, but I didn't want to ask Phung how far exactly she was willing to go to chain me to her project. And she would most certainly have denied that she would spill the beans. Perhaps, I was worrying too much and should focus more on the surprisingly chipper nature of her quest.

Relieved that she would learn and discover more about her ravishing, not so young body as well as all kinds of physical love soon, Phung showed a remarkable openness when we communicated. She could be pretty frank when she described her sensual fantasies and, on Monday morning, she went straight to the only sex store in town to get lube and condoms:

In case we wanna do it during the days I'm ovulating😉, she messaged me as soon as she had returned to her home:And I also want to know how to put a condom on a man's penis. I've never really done that.

Yeah, I had surmised that Phung would be sexually repressed and sheepish but, no: She was positively blossoming, curious and eager to finally take what she had craved but suppressed for so long, waiting for her long-term boyfriend to return from Japan to marry and start a family with her.

So, what would Phung be wearing today?I asked myself, after I had crossed the long new bridge, leaving our small city, facing another nine miles or so, until I would roll onto her parents' property, north of our town, again. The lovely light dress with the mauve floral pattern, which she had worn on the day she had visited the main post office in Saigon?

Or the salmon-colored, more traditionalAo Daiwith the stand-up collar and the really cute short, tight sleeves? The picture in which she was sporting the latter was curious, however, as it had been taken in a classroom but one could clearly see her bra underneath. Although Southeast Asians could be pretty loose and lewd, the official sexual norms were pretty stiff and rigid in Vietnam.

But then, Phung had been about 25 in said picture and simply looked stunning. One day, she needed to wear that dress with no pants. And maybe no bra, either. Yes, we could pretend that she was my Vietnamese language teacher, wearing the long dress, and then would take off her pants. And maybe even panties and continue teaching for a bit, until neither of us would be able to stand the erotic tension any longer.

But today was only the first week of her remedial, propaedeutic course. Phung had told me that she wanted toexamine a penis in broad daylight; something she hadn't been able to, apparently, during the last ten years of her young adulthood. She had also said that she wanted to dosomething more basictoday, before we might docrazier thingsthe next time.

But her naïve openness regarding sensual matters was just disarming: as if she wanted to assure that I wouldn't show any restraint, she had also told me that I coulddo with her body whatever I deemed fit. She would let me do it, since she waseager to learn.

As I was chugging along the narrow country roads, I wondered if we would do it twice today - after all, she was living about ten miles north of town - and I also remembered that she wanted me to explain the female cycle to her, although Phung had alreadyread up on the matter on the internet.But I have some more questions, she had admitted.

In two of her recent messages, Phung had also shared rather interesting, unexpected fantasies: once, she wanted to suddenly change her mind and reject me, after I had arrivedto make me angry, as she wanted tobe taken by sheer force:Just ignore me when I sayNo.

I hadn't expected Phung to harbor consensual non-consent leanings, I wondered, as I was still driving through the flat, yet beautiful landscape between the South China Sea and the Annamite Mountain range to the west:Yeah, I want you to yell at me, push me into my bedroom, onto my bed, pull my panties down and then just fuck me, she had written.

You know: When you ripped the phone from Hien and screamed at her, Phung had told me in another message, just this morning:I never told you, but Hien and I kinda fell in love with you, in an odd way.Can you get angry with me and then punish me, doing something similar to me when I tell you to go home, right after you arrived?

You're sooo big and have such a booming voice. But I also think I need to be prepared for such situations in my marriage, was her official explanation why she wanted to be taken by force - which was kinda sad, of course, but I also felt I wouldn't be able to completely disperse her fears, although I had never forced my tiny wife - who didn't even weigh half of me - into sex.

In order to get the consent issue out of the way, without drawing up a written contract, once for all, I had even asked Phung if I could safely assume that I could bang her, once I showed up at her house or if we met somewhere else. To which she had replied with an emphaticYes!before she explained herself a bit more an hour later:

Yes, Mister Douglas. You know, it was quite an effort last Thursday to get naked in front of you and do it. But now that we have started, we can't stop, just like that. Unless, people find out. I don't know what we would do then but, for now, I wanna do it and learn something new every time we see each other to - you know, why.

When I left her house last Thursday, I hadn't thought that I would be back only five days later, but here I was again: rolling onto Phung's parents' property in the countryside. But young Eliza was eager, hungry for knowledge, and had me by the balls.While I hadn't had sex with my wife for years.

One motivation to ask me to return so quickly was perhaps that I had only seen Phung naked and had intercourse with her during her period, which she probably thought wasn't ideal. It was understandable that she wanted to present herself at her best as soon as possible, although I really liked the unctuous lubrication during period sex, which I had told her.

But sex without the fear that the blood would smear the bed was easier, as we could move about more freely, sure. Not to mention the pussy licking, which Phung was certainly as eager to receive as I was eager to provide it.

Once I had stopped my Honda and pushed the side-stand down, the little black-and-white mutt came barking, which prompted Phung to step out of the house, too. She was wearing a white dress again, albeit a different one from our last time. This one here had a layer of tulle around the shoulders, arms, and thighs over a plain, slightly stiff cotton dress.

Phung had several of such dresses; out of the eight or ten photos I had downloaded and then sent back to her with saucy comments, two, if not three were like this one here. Now, she was talking to her small dog to calm him down, which was pretty cute, but before we could even sayHi, an older neighbor rolled closer on her bicycle.

Of course, people were curious what the tall, burly foreigner was doing here; luckily, Phung was a trained English teacher, so she could always use that as a pretext. As the two of them were chatting now, I noticed that Phung wasn't wearing a bra, but what about panties? Was she naked under her skirt?Probably not, as this was only our second time together.

And her ravishing lap would look good in panties, too. As shiny as her hair was, Phung had probably washed it just this morning to be at her best for her first real sex-lesson. Her parents seemed to have left for work already, but did they know that their daughter's riding instructor would be coming here once a week, for several months in a row?

The older woman nodded goodbye now, smiling, and Phung went inside to get some drinks and snacks. Of course, she procured the coconut cookies that we hadn't opened five days earlier as well as cold tea, water, and two glasses with ice cubes. Today, we sat down next to each other right away, on one bench, since we knew where we were heading.

My right arm was on the back of the bench, with my hand close enough to touch Phung's hair and shoulder. Which I did, briefly. Her hair felt heavy and light, at the same time:

"Yes, the lady asked who you are and what you're doing here," Phung giggled.

"Did you tell her the truth?" I asked facetiously.

Phung cracked up, blushing and shaking her head, which caused her freshly washed hair to sway and bounce:

"Yeah, just imagine I say:Yes, Mister Douglas will remove my panties and then lie down on top of me, between my naked legs, in half-an-hour," Phung giggled again.

Although we would surely kiss at some point, I was smoking a ciggy, and I noticed that the tea contained less ginger than the previous time I had been here. Phung now opened the pack of cookies, but I had to crack up once more, imagining a truthful answer to the neighbor's query.

"Do you want me to play a song on my guitar?" Phung surprisingly offered now: "I mean, we didn't get to that last time, because we..."

"I'd rather play a song on your body. Which resembles a guitar..." I replied, happy that I had noticed the similarities.

"It does?" Phung was puzzled.

"Well, your upper body, plus your butt have the same shape and size..."

Phung was looking down on herself, with pursed lips:

"Now that you're saying it," she eventually chuckled: "Well, yes: You can play on my guitar. My other guitar. A nice song..."

The table and the benches here were almost ideally suited for sensual foreplay, as they were at least 35 yards away from the street and shielded by a fairly tall wooden fence with flowers and vines. The L-shaped house behind us covered our backs, and we could early see if someone was approaching.

"And Hien fell in love with me, too?" I had to ask now, before I would play a song on herotherguitar.

Or her ravishing thighs, of which I could already see the lower half, since Phung's dress today was shorter than the one she had been sporting the previous week. Yes, Phung had lovely thighs: nimble and athletic, but also roundish and feminine; particularly now that they were being pressed by their own weight.

When she reached for another cookie from the pack on the table, I also noticed that her hands were quite elegant: the blood vessels on the back as well as her whole, slightly tanned skin looked very smooth and graceful. Much more elegant than her country-bumpkin upbringing and personality would suggest.

Yes, next week, Phung needed to play a song on her guitar, the one that was, presumably, still on the tall yet narrow table in the hall. She could probably also sing well. After she had taken another cookie, Phung licked her lips quite lasciviously, but that was maybe just due to the sugar on the treat.

Now, Phung was looking at me as if she was wondering whether we should talk a bit - perhaps about matters of the heart or marriage - or go straight into our foreplay. It was a bit unfortunate that the tension couldn't build up super nicely, since our time was limited, we had to be aware of the neighbors, and we both knew what the purpose of my visit was.

"Well, I don't think Hien had a real crush on you, back then, when she was only eighteen. More likegreatly impressed, if that's a phrase."

"But did you fantasize about having sex with me, with her?" I was curious, of course.

Before she would answer, Phung took a bite of another cookie, licking her lips lasciviously again:

"Yeah, but it was all innocent. And not so much about sex, but more about your penis," she giggled: "We always thought it must be really big, but then your wife's so tiny," she cracked up.

"You and Hien were virgins, still?"

"Of course. And we had never seen a penis. Only in porn videos. Of which I haven't watched many..." she added, probably truthfully.

Since I needed to pee, I got up; this time, I didn't go behind the house but inside. To surreptitiously relieve myself of my underpants, which I then put on one of the two chairs in Phung's bedroom. On the other, there was the simple black badminton dress which she had been wearing during our period sex the previous Thursday.

When I was sitting back next to her on the bench, looking past her head at our two very similar motorcycles, I noticed that Phung had voluntarily pulled her skirt up another six inches, so that I was able to admire her ravishing little thighs almost fully. We briefly talked about Hien again, who wasn't particularly attractive, however: She had glasses, a round, doughy face and body, and was quite dopey.

"Well, I still see her, from time to time, in Saigon. But we haven't talked about your penis for a while," Phung chuckled, blushing again.

"Well, the next time you see Hien, you can tell her more about my dick," I laughed, but she only replied that our liaisonmust remain a secret.

Of course. What else could she say?!Now, she was watching me how I was trying to peek under her dress to see if she was wearing panties.And if yes, if they were special. Phung then looked around if someone was approaching, as the cicadas were buzzing and whining, while there were also some chickens clucking near the corner of the house.

Yes, the tranquility here, in the countryside, was just divine. It was warm but not hot, and also a bit windy, on this balmy peaceful afternoon. Apparently, Phung now had run out of patience, as she was ruffling her skirt back into her lap with her fingertips. Which allowed me to take a good look at her light panties.

They appeared new and had some mesh on the front, behind which I could sense her dense, pitch-black pubic hair. This last step hadn't been too surprising, but it was still an awesome gesture. And, I was sure, Phung had never completed such a move before. My heart was pounding faster, and I could feel my cock twitch:

"I splurged, yesterday. You know, I first bought the lube and the condoms, but then I went to a different store and got some new underwear," she chuckled again: "And even a dildo, which looks like a big lipstick," Phung added, before she got up to scoot inside the house.

I was hoping she wouldn't take off her panties; perhaps, she wanted to fetch her new dildo to show off. Or the lubrication. Which we might need in a minute, here at the table. But the new undies, she would want to show off for a bit, wouldn't she? As quickly, as Phung returned, she was still wearing them, I was sure but, yes: She had brought the lube bottle.

As soon as Phung had sat down again, she folded her dress back, so that I could admire her new underwear, which was parted asymmetrically on the front, I could see now, and had a jagged line of mesh and solid cotton fabric. The creme-colored crotch piece to contain her heavenly fluids seemed thicker.