Knowing how to please “my little brother,” he’s always restless whenever he gets the chance. These past few days, I’ve been getting up before dawn, just to lie in bed stroking my penis and releasing my semen. In the afternoons, I take my time bathing, soaking in the water before doing the deed, letting the pleasure last as long as possible without anyone knowing.
This morning, I had just ejaculated when my mother knocked on my bedroom door. I felt like a thief caught red-handed, so flustered I could only pull up my pants and wipe myself clean. Luckily, my pants were dark, and the house was dim, so my mother didn’t see anything. As soon as I opened the door, my mother said, “Binh’s here looking for you.”
I put on an extremely dejected expression; I don’t know how many times Binh has messed me up already. Before I could even do anything, he barged into the room and shouted, “Hey, go mow the lawn for Mrs. Bé Năm. She’s paying you three hundred!” I yawned as I stepped out to the bathroom, replying, “My body aches too much, I’m not going anywhere. Go ask those two guys.”
But my body really did ache, I don’t know if it was because of my “regularity” of urinating twice a day or not.
Binh was squatting by the back door, looking out at me brushing my teeth, and said, “Go ahead, I’ll give you two hundred.”
Hearing that, I felt much better, quickly finished brushing my teeth, and also urinated out all the water that had accumulated in my body since last night. I had ejaculated earlier, so my penis was now flaccid, not erect. Binh saw me pull out my pants to urinate and came over to watch. I immediately cursed, “Damn it! Get out of here!”
Binh replied, “Seriously, as if I’ve never seen this before in fifteen years? You’re acting all shy today.”
I still snapped, “Get out of here.”
He said again, “Hey, why is it so limp this morning? Watch out, there might be a problem. I saw online that doctors say it’s normal for it to be hard in the morning.”
I muttered under my breath, “Whatever the problem is, it’s none of your business.” Actually, I wasn’t afraid of him seeing it. But I’d rather have it already hard, pulled out of my pants. If it were this limp, and he looked at it for a bit and it got hard, I’d probably jump into the rice paddy to avoid the embarrassment.
He stopped looking, but kept urging, “Hurry up, the sun’s coming up!”
I strained to get rid of the water in my body and was about to go inside to get ready. But as I passed him, I blurted out, “Wait, let me change my pants.”
As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew I’d made a mistake. I’d never changed clothes in the morning before, not even on the days I had morning sickness. I’m from the countryside, spending all day in the fields; if I didn’t feel any itching, I’d just assume there was nothing wrong. Even if one piece of clothing is gone, it’s still a little less soap, so it adds up and saves money.
Binh seemed to have caught something, his eyes slyly looking at me: “Ah ha, what happened last night that you need to change your pants now? Or maybe you…”
I didn’t know what he was going to say, but I was startled, so I quickly interrupted him: “Nonsense. I misspoke, I’m going to get my long pants.”
He urged me: “Don’t bother. Her garden is so cool. I went over there and checked, there’s not much grass, we can finish by noon.”
Before I could think of what to say next, he dragged me along. His hands and feet were always so quick. He had already parked his bicycle outside the door. My family also has a bicycle, the one my sister used to ride to school, now left for me and my mother to ride around. It sounds busy, but my mother only rides her bike to the market a few times a year at most.
The bike isn’t used much during the rainy season, and the front and rear tires always get flat without her noticing. My mother, sitting by the river, sees it and says, “That pump is hanging on the wall, Bình, take it and pump it up.”
Actually, Bình does it on his own without my mother reminding him. Every time he sees a flat tire, he’s the one who takes over pumping. But I know he’ll make excuses about being too tired to pump and then make me carry him there, and we’ll switch on the return trip.
This time was no different. I sat in front pedaling, and he sat behind, relaxed and carefree. It was early morning, the sun hadn’t risen yet. The air was cool and gentle, and the trees still smelled of morning dew.
Bình’s legs were long enough to touch the ground; he touched his feet to the road and pedaled rhythmically. I yelled, “Pull your legs up! You’re not helping at all, you’re just making things harder!”
Binh replied, “You’re pedaling too slowly! Lift your foot up so I can pedal!”
Anyone who’s ever ridden a bike with a friend will know this. The person in front lifts their foot up so the person behind can pedal, or they each pedal on one side. Binh was as strong as an ox; he was pedaling behind me and the bike was hurtling along. However, he was gripping the seat with both hands for support, and I could feel the pulling force behind me. I said, “Hey, if you keep pulling like that, you’ll tear the seat!”
He replied, “Okay, I’ll hold on somewhere else.” After saying that, he wrapped his arm around my waist. I glanced around; none of the houses were open yet. But I was still afraid of being seen, so I called out, “What now, Dad?”
Binh replied, “Can’t I hold on here? Then let’s switch places.”
He grabbed my crotch, and each time he grabbed it, he’d take the opportunity to squeeze, stroke, and caress it. Lately, I’ve noticed Binh acting strangely; he keeps trying to grope my penis.
I slammed on the brakes immediately, growling.
g: “Switch places!”
He didn’t dare argue, only muttering, “Just kidding, why so tense?”
I wasn’t really tense, but my dick was getting hard. If he squeezed any longer, I don’t know what else might happen. I punched him in the back and said, “You’ve been teasing me all the time lately, you dog!”
He replied, “Oh, it’s always been like this, and you never said anything. I think you’ve been acting strange lately.”
I thought to myself, “Is that really the case?” We’ve joked around like guys have, but Binh’s style is different. He’s really got ulterior motives, as if he wants to make me hard.
I replied, “It’s never been like this before. Do you think I’m stupid?”
Binh said, “Damn, you’re calculating even a few squeezes. Squeeze it back, I’ll return the favor!”
I exclaimed, “Do you think I wouldn’t dare?” I was about to reach out and grab his penis, but just then the car stopped in front of Mrs. Bé Năm’s house. Luckily, I stopped in time, otherwise I would have wanted to disappear into the ground.
Bình rode his motorbike into Mrs. Năm’s yard. Her house had a bright red tiled roof, and the foundation was half a meter higher than the road. During the flood season, while other houses flooded, Mrs. Năm’s house didn’t have to worry.
Mrs. Năm came out of the house, her figure plump and full, her traditional Vietnamese dress looking elegant and refined; it was clear she was a woman of high status. Following behind her was her youngest daughter, probably around the same age as Sen, but not as pretty and cute as Sen. However, she was fair-skinned from head to toe, her bright gold earrings and necklace sparkling against her light-colored dress.
She hid behind her mother, staring intently at Bình. I nudged Bình in the back; he probably understood that I meant another girl from the neighborhood had fallen for him. Mrs. Nam called out, “Binh, you’ve just arrived, haven’t you? Hong, take him to the garden and show him where to weed.”
Hong rushed out with her wooden clogs ready in her hand. She placed them down on the ground with a clatter and quickly slipped them on. She looked at Binh shyly and whispered, “Binh, follow me.”
Binh’s face was expressionless; he only mumbled a perfunctory “yes.” He took down the padded basket containing his tools from the bicycle and stomped away. I didn’t even recognize her as the same girl who had been laughing and joking with me on the bike.
Hong walked ahead, the sound of her wooden clogs clacking on the tiled path beside the house. Binh and I followed her to the backyard. It was truly a wealthy house; the path was tiled all the way to the garden. The path ran down the middle, dividing the garden into two halves. Hong took the opportunity to introduce: “My parents plan to plant ornamental trees on both sides here. When guests come to the house, we can take them out to see the garden, it’ll look nice. My mom told you to weed the right side first, and we’ll do the other side in a few days.”
I glanced at the garden; it was quite spacious, but the 300,000 dong price tag meant it had to be two plots like this to be worth it. I suddenly understood why Binh had insisted on going with him.
Ignoring Hong’s rambling, Binh took a sickle from his bag and started cutting and weeding. I certainly wasn’t there to listen to Hong boasting about her family’s wealth, so I didn’t pay attention either. Hong kept talking, and only after she reached the end of the garden did she realize we weren’t following her. She hurried back inside, the clacking sound of her wooden clogs annoying anyone who heard it. She pouted, “Brother Binh, why don’t you come with me? What if something happens to me?”
I wondered to myself, “I don’t know if this is for weeding or babysitting.”
Binh replied curtly, “If you’re afraid something might happen to you, go inside the house.”
Hong shook her head and wiggled her hips in all sorts of ways, “No way! Brother Binh, don’t call me ‘Auntie Ut.’ I’ll stay here and watch you weed.”
Binh didn’t bother to reply, just kept working. We cut a furrow in the middle, each doing our part. I was amazed by Binh’s nimble hands, let alone Hong standing beside him.
Hong, standing next to him, pointed and gestured, “Here too, brother! Over there! Why didn’t you cut the grass here first…?”
Binh threw the knife in front of her and said, “Go ahead and do it, you. We’re going home.”
After saying that, he stood up and headed inside the house. Hong jumped up excitedly: “Don’t be angry, Binh, I won’t say anything more!”
From that moment on, Hong was completely silent, not daring to utter another word. But wherever Binh went, she followed him closely. Binh was so angry that he jumped into the water nearby and splashed water onto the grass, but I saw that he was aiming it at Hong. Hong shrieked: “What are you doing, Binh?”
Binh replied: “We need some water to soften the soil so it’s easier to till and clean. Go inside, or I’ll get your clothes dirty.”
Hong hesitated: “Why didn’t you tell me beforehand? Now my clothes are dirty! Wait a moment, I’ll go inside and wash up and come back out.”
The clatter of wooden clogs faded into the distance. Binh leaped up from the water’s edge, wielding a knife and cutting and tilling like a madman. I waited until Hong was out of sight before I dared to laugh, whispering, “Why hate her so much? Just put up with her, her family is incredibly rich.”
Binh pointed his knife at me, snarling, “Say another word and I’ll castrate you. Get to work!”
Hong was inside the bathroom, singing and splashing loudly; we could still hear her from the garden. Binh was weeding frantically, leaving me a meter behind. The sun was rising, and the air was getting hotter. Sweat was pouring down.
The semen gushed out from our bodies, soaking our clothes.
Binh hunched over in front of me, his plump, round buttocks swaying back and forth, his tight leggings revealing the outline of his underwear. Actually, lately it wasn’t just Binh who was ogling me; I was also eyeing him whenever I got the chance. The only thing was, I didn’t dare admit it to him, nor to myself.
Where I live, people call them “effeminate guys,” or, to put it more politely, “gay.” I don’t know exactly what those words mean, I only know that anyone referred to by them is always talked about and hated. To give you an example, Teo from the village above, supposedly very gentle and well-behaved, was caught sitting in a roadside coffee shop outside the commune hugging some guy from the district. His parents beat him senseless, saying he had disgraced the family, and kicked him out of the house. He left the village after that, and I don’t know if he’s alive or dead now.
There were a few other effeminate men I knew, the girls with the painted cheeks and lipstick in the lottery troupe at the fair. They were different from Teo in that they were more flamboyant and flamboyant. But they were also like Teo in that they were looked down upon. Every time the fair came to the village, Binh and I would cycle more than ten kilometers to watch.
Ten times out of ten, the crowd was dense, packed with people. Every time a girl from the troupe stepped onto the stage to call out the lottery numbers, the adults would laugh and mock, and the children would point and tease. I knew those people on the stage were just trying to swallow their tears to earn a living. They were also human beings, made of flesh and blood, with honor and shame.
*bulging crowd: a large, crowded gathering
But that’s life, who gets to choose?
The more I thought about it, the sadder I became. No matter how much I sympathized with them, I didn’t want to be like them. To be more precise, I was afraid of being like them. Abandoned by family, trampled upon by strangers. If I were in that situation, I’d probably just want to die.
While I was still lost in thought, Binh had already reached the edge of the field. He only had about two meters of grass left to finish his share, while I probably had three or four times that. I had to return to reality and diligently finish the grass. I’d only chopped about ten more times when Binh cleared the remaining grass. He stuck the knife into the ground, plopped down, and gasped for breath.
Hong had finished her bath by now. Luckily, she took two hours to finish her bath, giving Binh time to weed. She changed into a different outfit, a vibrant pink from head to toe. In her hand, she carried a glass of iced water, and the clacking of her wooden clogs echoed as she headed towards Binh.
Needless to say, as soon as Binh heard the footsteps, he pulled out his knife and jumped onto my patch of grass, working from top to bottom. Hong rushed past me like a gust of wind, the strong smell of perfume assaulting my nostrils, making me cough a few times. She basically didn’t care whether I lived or died, only charging towards Binh.
Hong exclaimed, “Oh my god, Binh, you’re working so fast! Why didn’t you wait for me to come and watch you? Take a break and have some water, I made you some lemonade with rock sugar, it’ll help you feel better!”
Binh remained focused on cutting grass, not even glancing at the girl. I noticed he was always this cold whenever he met a girl. But I don’t understand much about boys and girls; maybe guys do that to be more attractive. Like Binh right now, I actually liked him. If his face weren’t so dark, he’d be a cool, romantic guy. But I didn’t see the need for that; Binh was handsome whether he was grumpy or smiling.
Binh didn’t even look, but he still replied, “Auntie Ut, you drink it yourself, I’m not thirsty. Please stand further away, otherwise the mud will splatter and stain your clothes, and I won’t be able to afford the compensation.”
Hong, whether feigning ignorance or genuine stupidity, smiled and replied, “Are you worried about me, Binh? It’s alright, sir. I have so many clothes, if this one gets dirty, I’ll change into another. You’re sweating so much, let me wipe it for you!”
Hong pulled a handkerchief from her traditional Vietnamese blouse pocket and reached for Binh’s forehead. Binh instinctively recoiled. Hong, somehow, stumbled forward… No, she fell towards Binh. Binh, afraid the knife would pierce her guts, threw the knife away before she fell. He couldn’t dodge in time, and Hong fell on top of him. The glass of lemonade in Hong’s hand also fell into the untrimmed grass, her hand now gripping Binh’s sweaty, muscular chest.
Hong screamed loudly: “Ah… Brother Binh, save me! Ah…!”