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Chapter 06 – Our new Clinic for Erectile Dysfunction (2)
Last week, I met my muse Nguyet and our masseuse Ly at the older vacant hotel to set up our new Clinic for Erectile Dysfunction. Ly wanted to conceive a child without a husband, but the handsome young chap with whom she had been trying to conceive seemed to be firing blanks.
Of course, Ly herself could also be infertile – or even both, Ly and Khoa – but, instead of seeing a doctor, she had decided to try another guy, as fertility screening was expensive and probably couldn’t be done in our small provincial town in Central Vietnam.
Instead of Ly humorlessly spreading her legs, however, I had conceived the idea to wrap the whole project into a wholesome, charming ruse: Our orgy posse would pretend to run a Clinic for Erectile Disorders, where Ly would massage the guys’ cocks on the day she was ovulating and then milk all dicks to receive one load after another in her hungry sheath.
Of course, I couldn’t directly be part of the charming La Ronde, since our child would look so markedly different that they would have to explain to everyone, why. No, I would amuse myself with the medical assistant, who was played by Nguyet, or the nurse, who would be given by a different young lady from our orgy troupe.
Perhaps Quyen, who I had met recently during a job interview at the large International School here in town. When I refused to take the fairly well-paid position, though, Quyen became curious and then even decided to offer herself, when we had ended up on the roof of the old, stately pile of bricks, for a chipper round of fornication.
My ravishing biual ex-colleague Mira from the Philippines would probably become another intern or the receptionist at the new clinic, as she was often at Ly’s house, since the latter’s blind niece, Hanh, was Mira’s girlfriend. So, Mira was aware of Ly’s predicament and would, with cameo appearances, try everything she could do to help Ly conceive.
It was somewhat ironic that our newbie, Quyen, of all people, had managed to forge the orgy microcosm back together, almost by sheer coincidence. Since Quyen had been to the now vacant hotel as a child and fallen in love with the glorious chandelier, she had goaded me into going all the way up to the sixth floor and then even suggested we try to get onto the roof.
Overwhelmed by the circumstances: the mild breeze, the solitude, and the view – Quyen had pulled down her panties under her skirt and then lay down on the two thick blankets we had conveniently found in the maid’s chamber on the way up. Since Quyen was single, she later told me that she wanted to try with, at least, two men and maybe a woman, too, and so she had successively joined us for the occasional ribald rumpus.
Her first time with a women had been when she met Nguyet, about a month back. The weather had been too inclement to do it up on the roof, but Quyen would never forget our little tryst in the maid’s chamber, during which she got her pussy licked by a woman – Nguyet – for the very first time, and had a chance to witness intercourse, during which I banged her a bit as well.
That was also the day we had forged plans how we could arrange the circumstances, so that our masseuse wasn’t going to humorlessly lie down naked and spread her legs to let a bunch of guys sink their cocks in her sheath. Like I said, the previous week, Nguyet, Ly and I had our first trial-run for the new clinic, and it decidedly looked as if Ly was happy to have found a somewhat enjoyable scenario to accomplish her conception charmingly.
This had most certainly been the first time that Ly was playing a role ever, but she did well: She massaged me somewhat distantly and then almost hectically lifted her butt, as soon as she felt that I was coming, so that the majority of my jizz landed on her plump labia and generous bush, outside. Still dripping, Ly scooted to the bathroom and then disappeared for lunch.
Nguyet had even filmed the whole thing, before she offered herself for a freestyle round; needless to say, up on the roof of ‘our’ vacant hotel. She had probably been a bit jealous of our novice, Quyen, who I had already taken up there twice, before Nguyet, the new medical assistant, had snatched me the previous week – to conclude that everything was alright with my cock.
Overall, Nguyet was a generous woman, though, and so she invited me again to show up at our new clinic, although my dick seemed to be working just fine, as she confirmed once more in a message to me. Ly probably wouldn’t be part of the debauchery this week, as her ovulation wasn’t for another eight days or so, but there was also the utterly charming project to break in the young, attractive nurse.
Although I was going to the clinic more less as a patient, I took the liberty to bring some refreshments. Approaching the stately pile of bricks, I saw Hiroshi’s white Lexus parked on the sidewalk, as is customary in Vietnam, to not block the street. No one walked here, anyway; pretty much everyone had a motorcycle or a bicycle. Or even a car, in 2024.
Nguyet and her fiancé, Hiroshi, stepped out of the car when they saw me but, as soon as we had greeted each other, she told me that she had to leave again in a few minutes to go to something important. As Nguyet was some kind of manager at her real-estate company, she probably had to attend a meeting at the headquarters, five miles north.
“Mister Douglas, you just go upstairs with Mister Hiroshi here and the new nurse,” Nguyet almost panted: “And yes, show her some tricks. Warm her up and see if she’s competent and easy-going, you know… comfortable getting undressed… being touched, and such…”
Nguyet had an impish grin on her face, since she knew that Quyen wanted to try with two men, before she went to the rear door of the car to procure lunch for us. She handed her fiancé Hiroshi, who purportedly had an erectile disorder today, a large styrofoam container in a bag, and I noticed again how debonair and suave he looked:
Extremely clean shaven, he also appeared to just have returned from the hairdresser. Of course, his dark-grey dress pants looked expensive and fit perfectly, and he was even sporting a burgundy-and-grey tie to his appointment at the clinic. If he hadn’t had an almost mischievous grin on his face, I would have thought he was auditing for a Japanese mafia movie.
Hiroshi, who was in his late forties, nodded at me, as if he wanted to say Let’s get it on but then, we saw Quyen approaching on her spiffy, fairly new blue Yamaha. However, I almost didn’t recognize her, at first, since she was sporting the long white dress that high-school students wear here, in Vietnam. Yes, that would most certainly add to the erotic titillation.
“Oh, the intern is still in school?” I asked Nguyet, as long as she was here.
Hiroshi also seemed surprised, which meant that Nguyet hadn’t briefed him about the details. Which was great, as everything could spontaneously unfold from here. Hiroshi, who had seen Quyen once, in front of Ly’s house, was already undressing her with his eyes now. But it was true: Although she wasn’t blessed with an outrageously beautiful face, her figure was more than fine.
One of the finest I knew, in fact, with perfect proportions: Quyen was about 5’3″, which was like the standard height for Vietnamese women, and had nice, roundish breasts as well as a firm, womanly butt, which was an inch-and-a-half wider than Nguyet’s, on either side. Quyen also possessed light, extremely smooth skin, and probably had shaved her slightly hairy shins for the occasion.
Oh, yes, the purported 12 th -grader looked ready to give and receive. She radiated curiosity and joy as well as sensuality, and was surely glad that we had bumped into each other a few months back, as the adventurous yet safe atmosphere here, at the hotel, was downright ideal for a young woman who wanted to garner ual experience, but remain unattached.
“It’s only a part-time position, Mister Douglas,” Nguyet deigned to answer my question now: “But Ms. Quyen is already 18, if you’re worried about that,” she added, again with a mocking smile.
I wondered if Quyen already knew that Nguyet wouldn’t go upstairs with us, or if the ladies had stacked up their deck of cards, so that Quyen could experience being stacked between two guys. Either way, I liked it already; partially, since it looked like Hiroshi was pleasantly surprised and fond of the situation. Perhaps, he wondered if Quyen was still in high school.
It was often hard to tell if a young Vietnamese woman was 18 or 24. Some mothers even looked like teenagers, as petite and slim as they still were. No, it all seemed like Nguyet had received a call an hour earlier and now, Hiroshi, Quyen, and I would spontaneously make the most out of this utterly beguiling set-up.
Nguyet had introduced Quyen to us guys, in the meantime, and had made it official that we would be alone with the young lady for the next hour-and-a-half. Nguyet hadn’t said that we could do whatever we wanted with the confident young woman, but it was implied. Quyen, the intern, would lead us, as her role required, and we would make sure that she would have a grand time.
Quyen promised to try her best, as a nursing student, and I caught Hiroshi ogling her large breasts, which were even more impressive, since Nguyet’s were much smaller and already sagging a bit. My gaze, however, landed on the small triangle of naked flesh above the elastic waistband of her pants, as the split between the large front and back of Quyen’s Ao Dai already began five inches below a her armpit.
Yes, Ao Dai meant long shirt, and accordingly, the top often went down below the ladies’ knees and sometimes to their feet. The dress was customarily worn with loose, comfortable pants, which often were white or black or of the same material as the long top, which could be solid, in just one color, or display a floral pattern.
Nguyet said goodbye now and briefly waved at us, before she got in the car. I saw Khoa, the driver, through the windshield – the guy Ly had been trying to conceive a child with – but he couldn’t join us, as his boss Hiroshi probably wouldn’t want his young chauffeur to see him naked, having , although Hiroshi did have some wacky, whimsical proclivities.
One of his kinks was to watch – and fuck himself – while some other guy was banging Nguyet. I had a hunch that, once Nguyet and him got married, they would slow down; partially, as they also wanted another child together; in addition to Nguyet’s son Minh, who was about four and the result of a brief affair she had with a handsome guy at work once.
The three of us had gone in, in the meantime, and had closed the screeching metal sliding door behind us, which always had something final and slightly ominous, here in the large, vacant building. We guys were benignly yet lewdly watching Quyen, as she was taking off her coat to place it on the dashboard of her scooter, before she nonchalantly slung her backpack over one shoulder again.
I briefly thought of suggesting to scrap the role-play, now that Nguyet had left and Ly wasn’t here; but then, Hiroshi and Quyen didn’t know each other and thus would need some background story why she would offer herself to him today. And what would I be doing here, then?
As we were going up the stairs, Hiroshi asked Quyen a bit about her school, which I found cute. Oh, yes, he was a busy executive of a large company, but he was clearly relishing the little charming charade over lunch that he had become part of, and I remembered that I had suggested to Quyen she wear her old dress from high school one day. Well, here we were.
“I’m a bit surprised, Miss Quyen, that you are so young. Your job at the clinic here is… err, how shall it put it, a bit delicate… well… piquant,” I was hemming and hawing.
“I don’t know. I like … but the boys at school are boring: all they talk about is computer games and motorcycles… while they’re staring at their phones,” she laughed endearingly.
“So, you are quite experienced?” I double-checked.
“Somewhat, sure,” Quyen told us confidently, as we were turning into the only furnished room of the whole building, which had already seen so much debauchery.
We put the food and the drinks on the table, and then Hiroshi looked around, as if he was here for the very first time. Quyen didn’t, but she would have told us that she had already been here for her job interview. I filled the glasses with ice, before I asked her if she wanted a beer as well:
“Maybe not. I gotta go back to school at one-thirty,” she shook her head, smiling impishly.
Which was true: She worked at the HR department at the International School, here in town. Hiroshi opened the large box with the food, which contained more than a dozen Nem, which were fried rolls filled with a puree of mashed potatoes, carrots, and onions. They were still warm, which was great, as they didn’t taste as good, once they got cold. And we needed a bit of fore-play time, anyway.
Hiroshi and Quyen were sitting next to each other, across from me, at the smallish square table. It didn’t seem to matter that he was twice her age: He obviously found her adorable, while she appeared positively smitten and in awe. They were already flirting and clearly had the hots for each other.
Well, Hiroshi was extremely good-looking, especially for his age, and a smart dresser. He was courteous and kind, trilingual, at least, and probably got up at five every morning to practice yoga and several Asian martial arts techniques to steel his body, mind, and soul.
“How severe is your erectile dysfunction?” the young nurse asked him now, which stumped him a bit, although it was a natural, reasonable question.
“About medium, I would say,” Hiroshi eventually replied: “It’s not that I can’t do it at all,” he chuckled, in slight discomfort.
Which was kinda absurd and funny, as he and Nguyet partied quite hard in bed, as far as I was able to tell. Since I didn’t want to interrupt the two of them, I wondered if Nguyet would want Hiroshi to sink his cock in Ly the following week to, perhaps, sire a child with her. Of course, I couldn’t ask him, as we purportedly had just met, and so we continued with a bit of small talk to weave a thin carpet of lore for our role-play:
“I’ll see what I can do,” Quyen promised, radiating youthful optimism, as was her role, before she turned toward me to report that she had learned from Mrs. Nguyet that she had already cured me the previous week.
“Oh, she’s told you?” I was genuinely surprised.
“Well, that’s part of a patient’s medical record, isn’t it?” Quyen proved that she had done her homework: “Mrs. Nguyet also told me she’s made you the clinic’s External Advisor and that you want to test me today,” she giggled, as everything was so charmingly over the top.
I was again surprised that I now even had a title, but told Quyen that the testing would be rather playful, unless she requested something else:
“Primarily, we are here to help Mister Hiroshi,” I added, glad that I hadn’t suggested to suspend the role-play and just fuck.
“What turns you on, Mister Hi… Hiroshi?” Quyen continued our beguiling ruse, before she reached for another of those fried rolls, which were quite delicious, actually.
So, I took another one as well but, when I turned my head toward the window, I saw that it had started to rain again. No roof-top today, although that would have been hard to develop out of the framework of our role-lay, anyway.
“Well, what does arouse me?!” Hiroshi was asking himself rhetorically, stroking his extremely clean-shaven chin with three fingers and his thumb: “B-br-brr-breasts,” he finally stammered and loosened his tie a bit.
Quyen blushed, smiling mysteriously; perhaps, she was thinking of ways to notch up her – our – game right then, during lunch. Now, she got up and disappeared in the bathroom, which I regretted, as I liked a little micturition during . But again, that might be hard to justify on our first day together here, at the new clinic. She liked it, too, however.
Well, one can’t have it all. Or could we? When Quyen returned from the bathroom, she was holding her white bra in one hand, which meant that we could clearly see her substantial areolas under the white fabric of her high-school dress. Nice!
I was even able to make out the concentric rings of light blisters around them, as Quyen was passing me, before she nonchalantly threw her bra onto the single bed, over at the long wall, which we wouldn’t need today. Her orange sports shorts were greeting us from over there as well, just like the two towels she had also brought here a few weeks back.
There was a camera bag, too, which Nguyet had taken here to shoot a video for Hiroshi, which he could watch at his hotel room in the evening, during his frequent travels. Nguyet had once mentioned that he liked it, but neither of them had ever told me any details. Unfortunately, I couldn’t ask him about the video right at that moment, either.
Like I said, Hiroshi had some wild and unusual proclivities and kinks: From time to time, he liked to watch a guy banging Nguyet, who had also told me that he wanted me to seduce her in front of him over lunch or dinner, at his house, one day.
Anyway, looking at Quyen’s naked bosom under her tight dress, I realized that her nipples were pumping and felt my cock twitch for the first time. Admiring her, I found it a bit curious, though, that her dress still fit her, but perhaps she had bloomed and blossomed early and was already fully developed in twelfth grade – which was like six years back.
“I hope this helps,” she cooed innocently now, most likely referring to her semi-bare chest, after she had sat down again and taken the last roll.
Well, what could we talk about now? Needless to say, we guys were both looking at her substantial boobs, which were heaving nicely under the tight fabric. Would she take off her pants if I told her I preferred thighs? Probably. But then, I actually didn’t want to speed up our beguiling ruse and ruin the intense allure.
No, Quyen had just notched up her game, and we should remain on this particular level for a bit and enjoy the show. Overall, we seemed to be well on the way. Hiroshi, however, couldn’t contain himself – and there was no need to – and reached for her right breast, which he then squeezed like an old-fashioned squeaky bicycle horn.
“I’m sorry for my rashness,” he said, after he had cleared his throat.
“Oh, no: Don’t be! That’s why you’re here,” Quyen reminded and encouraged him: “You may totally do things like that today. That’s part of the treatment,” she added, and so I asked her if she could show us her legs, too:
“You know, I’m more of a thighs guy,” I added.
“But, Mister Douglas, you aren’t here for treatment,” Quyen reminded me, as her role required, but then gave in, after Hiroshi had supported my request.
Eagerly, I moved my chair around the corner of the table, so that I could see Quyen fully, who now pushed her thumbs inside the elastic waistband of her loose white pants, before she lifted her butt for a split-second. Once she had fiddled her legwear off her ankles, she nonchalantly threw the pants over her left shoulder onto her bra on the single bed, and we had reached another level. Just like that.
Her panties, too, while she was at it? No, she kept them on, for now, but we could see the lovely white piece on her sides, as wide as the slits of her dress were. At least four inches. Oooaar, what a treat she was. But what now? How could we proceed from here to escalate our tantalizing, salacious game?
ero
