Chapter 64
The sun was high in the sky and the heat was getting harsh. The beach party was coming to an end.
The first group to return were my mother, Khoi and Nam. They supported my mother, who looked exhausted but her eyes were strangely bright, like a fire that had just been fueled. My mother walked unsteadily, her smile a little forced. Khoi and Nam, on the other hand, puffed out their chests, their faces arrogant, walking around like two roosters who had just won a battle.
A few minutes later, Lan and I also returned from the cove. Lan walked first, I followed. She walked very quickly, her head slightly bowed, not daring to look at anyone. Her face was still red, a pink of confusion and agitation. I still kept a calm, innocent expression, like a good grandchild who had just gone swimming with her aunt.
“Ah, everyone’s back?” My dad said cheerfully, standing up from his deck chair. “Have you had a shower? Come up here and have a beer!”
People started wiping themselves with towels, and that’s when the first traces appeared.
“Oh my God, My, what happened to your shoulder?” My dad suddenly cried out, his voice full of worry.
Everyone turned their eyes to my mother. On her white shoulder, near her neck, was a bite mark, still clearly marked with teeth, red and swollen.
Nam and Khoi jumped in surprise. My mother quickly pulled the towel over her face and laughed unnaturally.
“Probably just hit a rock, I’m fine,” she said, but her eyes shot a sharp glance at her two wolves, a silent warning.
My father, with his usual naivety, believed me. “You have to be careful. You’ll get scratches all over.”
But there was one person who did not believe.
That is Uncle Minh Cuong.
While my father was honestly worried, I caught Uncle Cuong’s eyes. Then, that gaze slowly moved. It no longer looked at the bite mark, but it slid along my mother’s body, naked and undisguised. It stopped at the pair of breasts that were heaving under the towel, then slid down to the round buttocks that were still clearly visible under the wet cloth. And on his lips, a smirk, full of hidden meaning and desire appeared.
*”My father is a fool. But Mr. Cuong is not,”* I thought to myself, a chill running down my spine. *”That look… it was not the look of a friend looking at his friend’s wife. It was the look of an old wolf assessing a tasty prey. It turns out, on this chessboard, there is still one more player that I haven’t considered.”*
To distract, or perhaps just out of patriarchal habit, Uncle Cuong turned to his wife.
“Where have you been?” he asked, his voice a little gruff.
Ms. Lan was startled, flustered like a child who had been caught in a mistake. “Ah… I… Huy and I were just looking for a place to practice swimming.” She did not dare to look straight at her husband, nor did she dare to look at me.
As everyone started packing up to leave, I knew I had to make one last mark. I grabbed a bottle of water and walked over to Lan, who was bending down to pick up her bag.
“Please take a bottle of water to quench your thirst,” I said, still very polite.
When she looked up, I leaned close to her ear, close enough for my breath to brush against her salty skin, and whispered, loud enough for only the two of us to hear:
“Today was a great class. See you next time.”
Lan’s whole body trembled. She froze, the water bottle almost falling from her hand. She looked at me, her eyes filled with fear and confusion, but absolutely no anger.
I didn’t say anything more. I just stepped back, smiled innocently as if nothing had happened, then turned away to talk to my dad.
We left the beach. My father put his arm around my mother’s shoulder proudly. My mother, tired, leaned on her husband’s shoulder, but I saw her eyes meet Uncle Cuong’s for a moment. Uncle Cuong walked beside his wife, but his old wolf eyes still did not leave my mother’s shaking buttocks. Aunt Lan walked silently behind, her arms hugging herself tightly, occasionally unconsciously reaching up to rub the shoulder where I had touched.
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Not far from shore, hidden behind a few moored tourist boats, there was a small, old basket boat. It was not a resort boat. It was a rusty fishing boat, rotting, emitting the distinctive smell of rotten fish, sea salt, and age.
On that boat, there was an old man. His name was Ba, but no one in the fishing village called him by his name. They called him Ba “the one-eyed”, not because he was really one-eyed, but because he had a habit of squinting one eye when looking at women, a scrutinizing, naked look as if he wanted to strip them off right there. Old Ba was nearly sixty, his skin was dark and wrinkled like dry tree bark from a lifetime of exposure to the sun and wind.
He had not gone fishing today. He had been here since early morning, his boat drifting on the waves, and he was also drifting in his own thoughts. He did not hold a net, but an old military binocular, smuggled from the war, the lenses slightly yellowed.
He was watching a play. A play better than any opera on television.
He recognized the woman immediately. The porcelain-skinned city woman who had “sucked” the young boy’s cock in the alley next to his house. The memory of that scene was still fresh, making him masturbate three times that night. He never expected to see his “goddess” again here, in an even more wonderful setting.
Through the yellowed lenses of the binoculars, everything came closer. He saw the woman, wearing a blood-red bikini today. He gasped. He saw her full breasts, curvaceous hips, and pale skin against the blue sea.
Then the play began. The cream application.
Old Ba held his breath. He saw three young boys, as excited as three male animals, gathered around the two women. He couldn’t hear what they said, but he read everything by their actions.
He saw one guy (Khoi)’s hand slide up the back of the woman in red bikini, then “accidentally” slide down to her buttocks. He saw the other guy (Nam) being more rough, one hand squeezing the woman in red bikini’s breast.
The old man saw that the boy from last time (Huy) was more sophisticated. He only touched the other woman’s shoulder, but the way he touched it, slowly and full of hidden meaning, was a million times more dangerous.
“Damn, what a bunch of perverts,” he muttered, his mouth dry. The hand that wasn’t holding the binoculars had somehow slipped into his old boxers. His wrinkled, old cock began to stir.
Then he saw the woman in the red bikini run into the water. The other two boys followed. They circled each other, chased each other, and then disappeared behind the big rock.
Old Ba cursed. The most beautiful place was hidden. But his imagination went further than the binoculars. He imagined the scene behind that cliff. He imagined how the woman was being tormented by two young men. He imagined her white breasts being crushed, her plump pussy being sucked. Just thinking about it made his cock harden, pounding against his stomach.
His hands began to shake the jar slowly, rhythmically to the sound of the waves.
He shifted the binoculars, trying to find another sight. And he did. The boy and the one-piece woman had parted ways, heading toward a quiet cove. He chuckled.
“This kid is no pushover.”
He watched them. He saw the boy feign weakness, feign cramp. He saw his hand go under the water, groping the woman’s thigh, her crotch. He saw the woman go from defensive to confused, then run away in panic.
“Like father, like son,” he muttered again. “The mother is a slut, the son is a cunning fox.”
The sight excited him even more. His hands moved faster.
He turned the telescope again toward the cliff. He saw nothing, but he heard a wild scream, a scream of extreme pleasure, distorted by the sound of the waves.
“Ah… that bitch is coming,” he groaned.
The scream was like a final push. He stared into the empty space behind the cliff, imagining the woman convulsing and gushing her pussy juices.
Old Ba’s whole body convulsed. He let out a low roar, then shot a stream of old, scanty, and murky yellow semen into the bottom of the boat. It mixed with the remaining seawater, creating a fishy, disgusting smell.
He gasped, his limbs limp. He grabbed a dirty rag and roughly wiped his cock, then wiped the semen off the floor.