Chapter 58: THE HUNTER’S BANQUET**​

The restaurant staff quickly added chairs and joined the two tables together to form one long table. A fateful arrangement. My father and Mr. Cuong, Khoi’s father, sat at either end of the table, loudly talking about business, politics, men’s stories that I found boring to listen to. The two mothers, of course, sat next to each other. My mother, a ripe peach. Mrs. Lan, Khoi’s mother, a delicate pear. And the rest, the best part, was reserved for us.

The party really begins.

After a few polite greetings, Mr. Cuong raised his glass of wine toward my mother, his slightly fat belly shaking with each laugh.

“I have to say I really thank Ms. My,” he said loudly. “Since you started tutoring my son Khoi, he has improved a lot. His scores in other subjects have also improved. You are truly a good teacher!”

My father heard that and chuckled, his face full of pride in his wife. My mother just smiled modestly, a gentle smile befitting an excellent teacher.

“You’re exaggerating. He’s smart, just a little lazy. I don’t do much.”

Mrs. Lan, Khoi’s mother, a woman with noble beauty but a touch of sadness, also added: “That’s right, ma’am. At home, he never studies on his own. We always have to urge him. Since he came back from extra classes at your house, I see that he seems to be more attentive. I’m very happy.”

“Yes, he has great potential,” my mother replied, still in that sweet voice. She raised her glass of wine to her lips and took a sip. The yellow light of the restaurant illuminated her red, moist lips, making them look even more inviting. I saw Khoi’s throat move slightly, as if he had just swallowed.

“That’s right!” – Nam, who had been silent until now, suddenly interrupted, his deep voice ringing out. – “Miss My teaches the lessons very well, very easy to understand. Even the most difficult lessons, we understand them right away after she explains them.”

*Easy to understand, of course it’s easy to understand,* I commented again. *Her pussy is truly the most vivid visual ‘lecture’, just put your dick in and you’ll ‘understand’ right away. You guys are just good at talking.* I looked at my mother. When she heard Nam’s compliment, her eyes curved slightly, looking very happy. Did she know that he was complimenting her pussy, or did she know and still pretend to be happy like that?

The conversation continued. Full of compliments, stories about studying, about the future. A perfect picture of a cozy evening between two intellectual families. But I, the only audience member of this play, saw a completely different story. A story of predators and a prey enjoying the danger.

While their mouths talk about grades and homework, their eyes and actions speak another language. A language of lust.

I looked at my two friends. Their eyes were about to pop out. Khoi swallowed hard, his penis in his pants was definitely erect. Nam’s face was red, his hands clenched.

I leaned back in my chair, feeling an indescribable sense of satisfaction. My cock was so hard it was throbbing, but I didn’t care. This play was better than any sex movie . Because it was real. And I was the only audience witnessing it all.

The lens in my head shifted from my mother, to Mrs. Lan, Khoi’s mother, and back again. Both were beautiful women, women who had reached the peak of their beauty. But their beauty belonged to two completely different worlds. And it was that difference that decided their fate at the table of these predators.

My mother, Ngoc My, was a ripe, juicy peach. Everything about her exuded an invitation, a promise of pleasure. The emerald green silk dress, though modest in appearance, was actually the ultimate weapon. It did not cheaply expose the skin. No, it was much more subtle. It hugged the body, leaving the viewer to imagine what lay beneath the thin fabric. It squeezed tightly around her plump breasts, making them look like two grapefruits about to burst from the branch. It squeezed her slim waist, then flared out at the hips, highlighting her curvaceous, heavy buttocks. And that daring slit, it was not just to show off her legs. It was a half-open door, a challenge: “Do you dare to explore what is higher up?”

Mom’s energy was the same. She talked, she laughed, her eyes were flirtatious, her red lips always seemed to be waiting for a kiss. She used her whole body to communicate. When she laughed, her whole body shook. When she talked, she leaned forward slightly, unintentionally revealing a bit more of her cleavage. She was a physical dish, a sumptuous feast laid out before the eyes of hungry wolves. Khoi and Nam’s eyes were fixed on her, a look of primitive desire, a look of wanting to bite, to tear, to possess. Even Mr. Cuong, Khoi’s father, while he was loudly talking to my father, I caught a few quick glances at Mom’s breasts, a longing glance of a man who had grown tired of rice and craved noodles.

As for Mrs. Lan, she was different. If my mother was a peach, then Mrs. Lan was an elegant pear. She was also beautiful, with a noble, luxurious beauty. She wore a beige, soft chiffon dress that covered most of her body’s curves. Her beauty was a bit distant and sad. Her eyes were beautiful, but always seemed to be covered by a thin layer of mist. She sat up straight, her hands placed neatly on her thighs. She was a beautiful statue, a work of art to be admired from afar.

And her energy reflected the same. She spoke softly, slowly. She smiled, but her smile did not reach her eyes. She sent a clear message: “Don’t touch me.” She was a spiritual food. One could admire her, one could respect her, but it was hard to develop the animalistic desire to possess her that one had for my mother.

“If my son Khoi was half as good as your son Huy, I would be happy,” Mrs. Lan whispered to my mother, a typical polite saying of mothers.

My mother burst out laughing, her voice as clear as silver bells. “Oh, don’t worry, all boys are naughty as devils. Look, my son Huy is not very obedient.”

*Be good?* I thought to myself, picking up the glass of water and taking a sip. *If you were good, I wouldn’t have had to take any medicine. As for Khoi, if he were good, he wouldn’t have wanted my pussy so much that he had to text me to make such a pathetic request.*

I glanced at my father. He, in his semi-conscious state, was also looking at the two women. But his gaze was not like Mr. Cuong’s. He did not steal a glance at Mrs. Lan. His gaze was fixed on only one person: his wife. It was not a gaze of lust, but a gaze of possessiveness, an instinctive possessiveness. The alpha male was guarding his offspring. Although his mind might have forgotten, his body still remembered who belonged to him.

Standing next to each other, I could see clearly. My mother was a much more “whore”. Not a cheap whore, but a confident whore, a woman who knew the power of her body and was not afraid to use it. Mrs. Lan was classy, ​​and my mother was “bright”. She lit up the entire stage. No wonder those wolves were only looking at my mother.

And I, her son, felt an indescribable sick pride.