The Swim Coach

Chapter 15

"Asshole... only thinks of himself, never change," Linda remarked about Moses as she wiped her pussy with the tissues lying on the bed, her nipples still visibly hard. She curiously spied my hard-on too and winked at me, obviously yearning to be satisfied herself. No matter how much she wiped, Moses' cum kept flowing out of her pussy and I had no intention of going there, no matter how horny I was.

She caught me looking in disgust and shook her head, "Tsk! You men are all the same," and proceeded to rub her pussy herself. The sight was too much for me and I started jacking off myself while looking at her. I reached for her boobs through the top of her dress but was pushed away, obviously in retaliation for being spurned.

I did not give up, however, and rubbed her hardened nipples through her dress, and eventually, she gave in. Cupping and squeezing her bare breasts gave both of us the additional pleasure we needed and soon I came just as she finished her second orgasm. We both cleaned up and she was about to leave. "Where's the memory card?" she asked.

I took it out from my pocket and, before she said anything, I snapped it in half before burning it with the hotel lighter. The smell of burning plastic wafted through the air and I opened the veranda doors as she inspected the mangled mess on the ashtray. She seemed satisfied and left. I went over to my suitcase and looked at the quadcopter I had bought at the mall for my younger brother. It was time for final packing.

I met the girls at the lobby and bid them goodbye as my ferry was earlier than theirs. Serena gave me a small package and told me to open it at home. The journey back was pretty uneventful, but I was curious about Serena's gift as I sat on the packed ferry.

I opened the package and peered inside; it looked quite safe in public. I removed what looked like a folded small white towel and a piece of paper. The words "Turi Beach Resort" were clearly embroidered on the edge of the towel. Had Serena taken one of the resort's towels as a souvenir? Was the resort going to come after us? I opened up the towel to see a small brownish patch in the center. I unfolded the piece of paper and saw just three words - "First blood. Remember."

As I got home, my family appreciated the gifts and snacks I had bought them. My younger brother was especially thrilled as he inspected his new flying toy. "Kor! The camera on this quadcopter is not bad! But I think you've been cheated. The two memory cards that are supposed to come with it are missing!" I just laughed it off. It wasn't me who had been cheated.

I loaded the first memory card onto my PC. It was of Serena and myself; just a memento and nothing else. But the second memory card was what got me excited. It was of Linda and Moses having sex, recorded through a quadcopter. The video quality was not as good as the other recording, but their faces and deed were clearly visible. I would be pretty wealthy if I got it into the hands of Michael, but it would sour my relationship with Linda, and possibly Serena, and I did not want that. But it would probably be more useful for Moses when the time came. I stashed away both memory cards safely.

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Holidays were finally over, and I was back at the condo conducting swim lessons. I saw Moses often at the security guard's house. I was pleasantly surprised when my own condo access card was presented to me; I could now use the side gate and did not need to sign in anymore. I still saw Serena and Linda occasionally, but there was no action. Nothing much happened for a while.

But a previously ignored group was starting to get my attention: the maids. The biggest group was the Filipino maids, who were too old or not pleasant-looking. There were a few young Myanmar maids who always had an earpiece on and spoke very little English. I often sensed the different groups were talking about me in their native language, but that was it, and I had nothing to go on. But things were changing.

One day, as I prepared my equipment at the pool, I heard someone talking loudly in Malay. "You put the things here. The toilet is there..." I looked up to see one of my students' grandfathers instructing a slightly tanned lady in Malay before leaving. She was slim, but her hips and breasts were disproportionately bigger.

What caught my attention, however, was her angelic face with smooth skin. She must be a new Indonesian maid. Throughout the lesson, the other maids congregated by nationality and chatted among themselves as usual. There was another older Indonesian maid who kept chatting on her phone. The new one tried to strike up a conversation with her, but somehow they could not click, and she ended up sitting alone.

After the lesson was dismissed, I saw my young student gesturing wildly at the new maid at the toilet entrance. I went over. "You can only shower here; go home and bathe," he kept telling her while refusing the soap, but she did not understand. My Malay was not too bad, so I translated and she finally got it, smiling and nodding.

I took the opportunity to chat with her in Malay while my student showered inside. Her name was Yanti, and she was 29 this year with two kids. I complimented her on her slim figure despite having kids, and she smiled shyly. When my student came out, I ended up teaching him a few words of Malay and Yanti in some English. They thanked me and left.

Over time, I became Yanti's translator and language teacher. In the family she was working for, only the grandfather spoke Malay fluently, but he did not stay with them. She could still speak English with the others, but sometimes they used words she did not understand. This was where I came in.

She would write these words on scraps of paper and ask me by the side of the pool at the end of swim lessons. Of course, her spelling was not perfect, but we managed to figure things out. I also "forced" her to speak to me in English for long periods, while waiting to help her improve. This also helped me to get to know her better.

But the best-looking maid in the condo talking to the hot swim coach started to get the attention of others. More of the other maids were purposely trying to talk to me whenever Yanti was around. Her presence during my lessons also brought about increased patrols from the security guards who were eager to check her out and talk to her. I was thankful that Moses did not appear. We largely ignored all of them and maintained our cordial relations.

About a month later, something strange happened. Yanti started avoiding me; she hurriedly left after lessons with her young ward without even letting him shower, not even making eye contact with me. Something must have happened, and I was determined to find out more. That particular day, after dismissal, I quietly waited. As Yanti and my student passed by, I pulled them into the empty changing room. "Come, go shower," I told the young boy, who disappeared into the cubicle. Yanti and I were now alone.