Early summer had found him on a long detail traveling and working throughout Southeast Asia. It was an all-new experience for the young American businessman, hot and sticky and crowded and sometimes primitive in comparison to what he was used to back in Chicago, not to mention being a minority for the first time. But he had greatly enjoyed being in a part of the world where a man could still gawk at women to his heart's content; and he had. Besides, the work had proven lucrative and by August he'd earned a couple of weeks to himself. Time to finally enjoy the region's exalted beaches! He'd heard again and again how they were among the world's best, and now he had nothing but time to find out. Sun and sand were best, but most of all he was after the easy Asian women he'd heard so much about. None of this politically correct silliness from back home, here a man could be a man, and stare to his heart's content. And he had every intention of ogling all he wanted.
Asking around among the locals and other expats about just where to go, he soon settled on the east coast of Malaysia. Not so much because of what he'd heard about it as because of what he'd heard about the other options. Phuket and Bali got the highest marks for their busy tourist strips and wild nightlife -- but that was just what he didn't want. He wanted quiet time on the sand and in the water without bumping into dozens of other tourists every way he turned. All the better to admire the ladies up close and personal, and enough privacy to hit on them in peace. That was getting harder to find, of course, but a close look at a couple of tour books found him settling on one promising beach town with a name too long for him to pronounce. There was a Club Med on the way just up the road, but it wouldn't be open for another year or two. That meant two things to him: it wasn't yet commercialized, and this could be his last chance to see it before that changed. Not to mention all the lovely native ladies who would surely be ready to party with the rare white guy who showed up.
With that settled, it was just a matter of a flight into Kuala Lumpur and then a bus out to the coast and a taxi from the nearest bus station, thirty kilometers or so away. He arrived just before dusk on a weekday, too late for a swim but with just enough light left to know he'd made the right choice: coconut trees, quaint noodle shops with electric lights catering to just a few hungry tourists, and a quiet beach road which the occasional monkey could be seen crossing casually. Though going in the water was now out of the question, he did make the very short walk across the beach road to have a good look at the secluded shore. A lovely crescent-shaped beach with tree-lined hills off on one side of the horizon and the boundless sea on the other, it would surely make for a lovely day tomorrow. He could only hope the beach would remain nearly as deserted as it was just then. Just a few bathing beauties were all he needed, and with the water not too crowded maybe he could bag one right in the surf.
And then it was back across the road to his hotel. It was a series of tiny huts, each one standing alone with the most basic of concessions, cheap and rickety but air-conditioned with a comfortable bed. That was all he needed on his first night after the trip, and he was looking forward to a leisurely sleep that would surely last well into the next morning.
On his way through the courtyard between the huts, he saw her -- one of the pair -- for the first time. In the dim light, she was just a figure at first, albeit a delightfully shapely one, standing by one of the several laden clotheslines outside the cottages. As he drew closer, he saw the young woman was a Westerner like him, the first he'd seen in some time. She was in a bikini, collecting t-shirts and underwear off the line. He made no effort to hide his titillation at her body and the underclothes she was collecting as he walked by.
She looked up and saw him staring at her. "Good evening," she said, in an accent he guessed was Australian.
"Hi there," he answered, checking her out shamelessly -- it had been a
very
long summer, cooped up in those sterile office buildings, and after all this was politically incorrect country where a man could still be a man. Her curly brown hair was carelessly brushed in the relaxed atmosphere, but it hung pleasantly every which way, and the skimpy swimsuit hugged her firm tall body enticingly. "Looks like you're enjoying the beach, dear. You here on summer vacation?"
"Summer vacation?" she asked. "It's winter where we come from. No, we're on holiday from work."
"Work?" he asked, surprised. "You look very young. Just the right age for a bikini like that."
She cast him a wary, uncomfortable look, which he mistook for gratitude at his flattery. "Just got in tonight," he explained with a grin. "See you there tomorrow, to share the water with me in that nice tight bikini?"
"Keep dreaming," she told him with a firm look, and turned to go back to her hut. He noticed with a thrill that there was no sign of men's clothes on the line or in her hands. Alone? With a girlfriend? He'd find out tomorrow, with any luck.
Sure enough, he did. After a leisurely late breakfast the next morning, he made his way down to the beach and saw his new friend lounging on the sand just above the tide, attired in a different but equally revealing bikini. She was watching another young woman -- her fellow tourist, he guessed -- emerge from the water. The friend wore an even flashier suit, its silver fabric casting dazzling reflections in the bright sun, and her long red hair was streaked back as she strode out of the water. No doubt they were dying for attention from a red-blooded male like him! He made no effort at all to hide his titillation as he admired her, and soon enough he'd caught her eye as well. Her smile faded as she took in his relentless stare, and eventually her friend turned around to see him rooted to the sand, shirtless and utterly lacking in self-consciousness about his own body that was showing the signs of no time for the gym all summer -- and which was also showing the telltale sign of being turned on by the view. The brunette nodded at him and then turned back to her friend.
He set down his beach blanket and lay down on his back, but never completely took his eyes off the two friends. He also made no effort to hide the bulge in his swimming trunks; no doubt they'd love that once they noticed it. They were now huddled closely in the sand, talking about something. He waited patiently for them to turn back to him, but they never did. Eventually they stood up, hand in hand, and waded off into the water. Playing hard to get, were they? Well, he knew how to play that game! He enjoyed the view of their barely-clad asses disappearing into the surf for as long as it was available, then finally turned to survey the rest of the scene.
The beach was sparsely attended, just as he had hoped, and there was an unlikely mix of conservatively-dressed locals -- even women in full head-to-toe regalia -- and Westerners dressed just as skimpily as his two new friends were. He couldn't be sure if it was just his imagination, or if the few male locals had to struggle to avoid admiring the pale-skinned sunbathers with their acres of visible flesh. The idea set his imagination reeling...maybe one of those lovely ladies would finally decide she'd had enough of the sun and return to her cottage to peel off her swimsuit and play with herself in the cool air indoors, and casually forget to draw the curtains. If one of those local guys got an eyeful of that, then what? Just what contortions of contrition would he have to go through in order to save his soul? Would he even want to bother once he'd seen her charms on display?
The wonderfully politically incorrect fantasy got him so wound up he had to run for the water to keep his last scrap of modesty intact. Safe in the water, he was free to rub himself any way he liked, and he exulted in the feeling of his rigid cock rubbing against the taut fabric of his trunks and his hand making circles around it as he splashed around just below the waterline. He looked around for his two friends, thinking he might want to join them once he'd calmed down; but they had returned to shore. He saw them toweling off, and one of them made wary eye contact with him once and then turned away just as quickly.
Naturally, a successful young businessman like himself did not give up that easily. He kept his eye out for the lovely pair from then on, and that very evening he saw them both at the beachside restaurant where he headed after the beach for dinner. They were both resplendent in colorful sundresses, their hair now dry and combed for a change, and they were sharing a laugh over a bottle of beer when he settled himself discreetly at the next table. Confident that they would enjoy the view as much as he did, he gazed shamelessly at them just as he had done with every woman or girl he'd taken a fancy to since middle school. He was close enough to hear the redhead was also Australian, and let his mind run wild with all the rumors he'd heard about how wild Aussie gals were in the sack. He
would
find out for sure with one or both of them before the trip was up, that was beyond question.
It was not to be that evening, however. He hadn't been admiring them but for a few minutes before the brunette looked up to catch his gaze. She stopped chatting about whatever topic had been on tap, and said, "Well hello again" to him.
