Entering the room, Chang An collapsed onto the bed. I quietly opened the wardrobe and took out the clothes I had brought over the day before. Since Chang An let me stay with him, I’ve brought quite a few personal belongings.
Seeing me silently carrying my things towards the door, Chang An said, “You’re not flying tonight, why are you packing so early?”
I asked, bewildered, “Where are you flying to?”
Chang An replied, “To France, of course. I’ve been thinking about arranging my work since earlier and haven’t finished yet.”
Oh… So I was thinking unnecessarily all this time. I asked again, “But… Weren’t you so angry you wanted to kick me out of the house?”
Trường An jumped up, chuckling, pulled me onto the bed, draped his leg over me, and whispered softly, “If you had said I wasn’t as good as him earlier, I would have really left you. But you praised me for being big, long, muscular, rosy, and full of semen, how could I leave you?”
I was so embarrassed I pulled the blanket over my face. Trường An laughed heartily, realizing I was overthinking things. I peeked out and asked for confirmation, “You’re really not angry?”
Trường An kissed my forehead, pulled my face into his chest, and replied, “What’s there to be angry about? Everyone has a past, right? I’m even happy for you that you escaped that scum.”
I thought everything was settled, but then came an interrogation: “What were you moaning for him back then that made him call you a slut?”
I jumped up and tried to run off the bed, but Trường An quickly grabbed one of my pants legs. He grabbed me, and within ten seconds, he had unbuckled my belt. In an instant, my pants were pulled down to my knees. I struggled, but almost immediately gave up when I felt a warm, wet sensation from behind…
Truong An put his mouth to my butt crack and sucked hard. I immediately collapsed onto the bed. I knelt on my trembling legs, weakly resisting: “Don’t… I haven’t… um… I haven’t showered yet…” Truong An didn’t care; he sucked even more intensely. Then he lifted his head and asked, “Does it feel better when I suck or when Peter Nguyen sucks?”
Then he buried his face in my penis again, and I choked out, “You… you… um… sucking feels better… better… um…” Truong An seemed very satisfied, sucking continuously and forcefully without stopping. One of his hands also reached between my legs to stroke my penis, the head of my penis swollen like a balloon and dripping with fluid.
I suddenly sat up, and Trường An, bewildered, asked, “What’s wrong? Did I do it too roughly?”
I shook my head and replied, “No, I… I’m craving your dick so much.”
Trường An grinned mischievously and pulled my head closer to his pants. His dick was now fully erect, bulging out. I slowly unbuckled his belt, then pulled off his pants and threw them to one side.
Trường An’s dick was pointing upwards, its erect head protruding from his waistband. I pressed my nose against his crotch, inhaling the scent that I longed for. Then I licked his underwear, from his testicles up to the head of his dick.
Trường An couldn’t take it anymore, and ripped off his underwear to free his aroused dick. He held his dick and slapped it against my face, but the slaps weren’t painful; they only made me more excited.
I couldn’t hold back any longer and just took his dick into my mouth to satisfy my craving. Trường An lay sprawled on the bed, one hand caressing my breasts, the other controlling my head. Perhaps because he came from a well-mannered family, he didn’t utter any vulgar words; the few sentences he said during our previous lovemaking session were probably just his effort.
He gasped and hissed, “I’m so happy, Phúc… Mmm… Your mouth is so warm… So tight… Ah… Oh, my tongue… My tongue… Don’t swirl it around anymore… Ah… I’m going to die…”
Seeing me swirling my tongue around his urethra, Trường An immediately sat up and pulled my butt up onto his face. I ate his dick, he sucked my anus, and we both felt the world spinning.
Then I lifted my butt away from his mouth, and before he could complain, I quickly sat on his dick, which was dripping with saliva.
Trường An sat up and hugged me, his breath hot with each thrust. He pulled me to lie on my back on top of him, then propped himself up on the bed and thrust his dick. His long dick penetrated deep into my ass, filling me with pleasure, to the point where my own dick was rock hard and dangling in the air.
One arm wrapped around my chest to keep me from falling, while the other hand gently stroked my penis, sending waves of pleasure surging through me. I couldn’t control myself and started moaning, “You’re fucking me so good, An… Mmm… Deeper, An… Yes… Ah… Your dick is so big… My hole is numb, An… Fuck me more, An… I crave your dick so much… Mmm… An, I’m so happy…”
Suddenly, Truong An flipped me over onto my stomach and thrust his penis in, thrusting violently. He growled in my ear, “This slut… Who can resist such moans… You’re so obsessed with my dick, aren’t you, slut? Is this deep enough? Huh… huh?”
Each “Huh” was a deep thrust. I screamed: “So deep… Oh… It’s all the way… um… It’s all the way in… I’m dying… I’m coming… I can’t hold it in… An… I’m coming… Um… I’m coming, An… Ah… Ah… Ah…”
My anus tightened around Truong An’s dick, my whole body trembled and I ejaculated uncontrollably. Truong An’s dick, following the rhythm of my anus, also ejaculated profusely. Truong An roared: “I’m coming… I’m coming… I’m shooting my cum, Phuc… Give me a blowjob!” “Oh, always, Phuc… Ah… My dick is so numb… Ah… Ah…”
Truong An didn’t rush to pull his dick out, leaving it there, breathing heavily as both of us seemed exhausted. I just didn’t expect to be able to ejaculate without even needing to masturbate. Except for the first time, this was one of the rare times I’d experienced this.
After recovering, Truong An teased me again: “No wonder he said you moan like a slut…”
I pretended to playfully hit him a few times. And I didn’t expect that when it came to “letting loose,” Truong An was even more intense than I imagined. Maybe after several times making love, I’d corrupted him.
After showering, Truong An hugged me and we fell asleep. I felt like something was missing, but Truong An kept nagging, so I gave up.
That night, Truong An and I packed our things to go to the airport. My first time flying made me incredibly excited.
But because we slept like dead men, we had to run all the way. Until we finally sat down. While waiting in the waiting area for my flight, I suddenly realized I’d forgotten something.
I exclaimed, “Oh no, my phone…”
At lunchtime, Ha Chau had been looking at pictures on my phone, and I’d rushed to the bathroom to find Truong An, so I’d completely forgotten about it.
Truong An called Ha Chau. On the other end of the line, Ha Chau replied, “I forgot too this morning. I left your phone in my pants pocket hanging in the bathroom. But I’m in Da Lat now. I’ll bring it back to you in a few days when I get back.” “Nothing will be lost, don’t worry too much.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. Actually, I don’t usually use my phone much; sometimes it sits in a drawer for days without being touched. If it doesn’t ring or I’m not calling my mother, I don’t really like using it much.
The flight was really long. From Saigon to Mrs. Marry’s house in Paris, it took at least thirteen hours of flying, plus an hour of commuting. Truong An and I slept and woke up, woke up and slept again. Occasionally, when I opened my eyes and looked over at Truong An, I would see him intently reading a book entirely in French.
When we left the airport, the clock had just struck eight o’clock the next morning. I wondered, “We flew at midnight and arrived here at eight o’clock in the morning. So why does it feel like half a day?”
Truong An laughed, “Vietnam has a different time zone, and this place has a different time zone!” “I’ve been on a plane for over twelve hours!”
I nodded naively at the new knowledge. But even though I didn’t know these basic things, Trường An happily taught me, instead of scolding me or making me feel inadequate.
Mrs. Marry’s house here wasn’t as big as I imagined, perhaps because she didn’t like to show off. As she led us into the house, she said, “It’s probably smaller than Mr. An’s house, I hope you don’t mind. Because we don’t live here often, and our family doesn’t want to move to the expensive capital. So, we mainly use it as a place to come back to.”
Adults here are different from adults on the other side. Once they reach adulthood, they want their own house instead of continuing to live with their parents.
We walked along a path full of neatly trimmed flowers and plants. Her house was about twenty meters from the road to avoid the dust, fumes, and noise of traffic.
I said casually, “I don’t think size is the most important thing.” “The most important thing is whether you feel at home when you step inside.”
Mrs. Marry smiled brightly and opened the door: “What a charming and eloquent child!”
Actually, this trip was mostly for work. Chang An had spoken to Mrs. Marry beforehand, and I was just an accessory to the main character. But I didn’t think much of it, because I knew I probably wouldn’t have many opportunities to travel to France in my lifetime.
On my first day at Mrs. Marry’s house, she treated me to local specialties. What was special was that she made everything herself. She said that when she was little, her family was very poor, and even if she wanted to, she couldn’t afford the ingredients. When she married Mr. Li, she finally had the chance to express her passion for cooking. She really liked making croissants, because her daughter, when she was alive, loved them.
I asked, “Do you like cooking any Vietnamese dishes?”
She smiled while stirring the food in the pan. I replied, “I like many dishes, but I can’t season any of them properly. I like making fried rice because it’s very easy to learn. I remember the first time I made it for my daughter; she cried because the fried rice was both spicy and choking.”
I suddenly remembered the time I applied for a job at Ngoc Nam’s pub; the fried rice I made also brought tears to his eyes.
The next day, Mrs. Marry took me and Truong An to meet some representatives from The Boys magazine. As soon as I entered the room, one of them jumped up from his chair and exclaimed, “Your eye color is amazing! They are greatly impressed, more than I can ever imagine!”
I bowed my head and replied, “Thank you very much!”
Luckily, they spoke English. Even luckier, Truong An tutored me in English, so I could understand a little.
But then, they all started speaking French, and I… He saw it but didn’t understand anything.
Another man spoke up: “Un mélange parfait entre l’Asie et l’Occident. Les yeux envoûtants et uniques de Mme Marry ne sont plus une ‘exclusivité’ désormais!”
Trường An translated for me: “A perfect blend of Asia and the West. Miss Marry’s captivating and unique eyes are no longer exclusive!”
Another woman said: “Je pense qu’on devrait l’appeler ‘le muse’. Et l’inviter à figurer dans l’édition de présentation de The Boys aussi.”
Trường An translated again: “I think we should call him ‘the muse’. And invite him to feature in The Boys’ introductory publication.”
So that day, Trường An and I had the chance to explore the photography studio of The Boys magazine. I felt a little pressured seeing the incredibly professional, meticulously arranged, and luxurious settings.
But thanks to Trường An’s “advisory” by my side, I still managed to choose a few really satisfying photos at the end of the shoot.
On our last day in Paris, Mrs. Marry took me sightseeing everywhere. From the Arc de Triomphe, the Basilica of the Sacred Heart, the Louvre Museum, Notre Dame Cathedral, and finally, the magnificent Eiffel Tower. Everywhere we went, we took photos as souvenirs, and of course, there were plenty of photos of me with Mrs. Marry.
I chose a spot to stand in front of the Eiffel Tower for a photo, Trường An lowered his lens and started counting: “3… 2… 1…”
Just as I was about to take another picture, Mrs. Marry’s phone in her pocket rang. She answered the phone and said something in French, then turned to Trường An and asked, “The editorial team said there’s one important detail they forgot to discuss yesterday. They asked for five minutes to finish it before you return home.”
The Boys’ office wasn’t far away; Mrs. Marry and Trường An could walk there in three minutes. Trường An told me to follow him, but I wanted to enjoy the view a little longer. He instructed, “Then wait here for me, okay? Don’t go too far, you might get lost. Take my phone; if you need anything, just call Mrs. Marry’s number.”
In reality, I could see the office from where I was standing, yet in Trường An’s eyes, I was like a child, and he would worry about everything if he took his eyes off me.
I just stood around looking at the tower from afar, and suddenly noticed someone not far away holding a camera and pointing it at me.
When I looked directly into the lens, the person immediately jumped and lowered the camera. I guessed this was one of Mr. To’s men, sent here to spy on us.
But instead of running away in fear, he slowly approached me. Whether it was because of the cold weather or to disguise himself, he was wearing thick winter clothes and a scarf pulled over his nose.
He came closer, then raised his camera and said: “Je suis désolé, je n’ai pas voulu te prendre en photo en cachette. C’est juste que tu ressembles beaucoup à une personne que je connais au Vietnam. Si cela te dérange, je supprimerai ces photos.” (Translation: “Excuse me, I didn’t mean to take pictures of you secretly. It’s just that you look very much like someone I know in Vietnam. If you mind, I’ll delete those photos.”)
Besides the word “Vietnam,” I was completely clueless. I didn’t know any French, so I could only use my limited English and wave my hand to signal: “Sorry, I don’t speak French.”
He said again: “Sorry, I didn’t mean to secretly take pictures of you. Because you look a lot like an acquaintance of mine in Vietnam. If you don’t mind, I will delete those photos.”
I wanted to see what the photos he had taken were like, so I said: “Can you let me check?”
He replied: “Sure!”
He stood close to me and showed me the photos he had just taken. I was quite surprised because he took beautiful pictures, and I blurted out: “They’re pretty good. Now, how do I get him to send the pictures to me so I can delete them from his phone?”
Suddenly, he excitedly said: “Phuc? Is that Vinh Phuc?”
I was stunned; it turned out two Vietnamese people were talking to each other without me even realizing it. He took off the scarf wrapped around his face, and I excitedly exclaimed, “Thinh Van! Oh my god, I thought it was someone else! Why are you all covered up and speaking French?”
Thinh Van happily hugged me and spun me around halfway. I didn’t have time to react, but I felt the hug was normal, so I didn’t dodge.
Thinh Van smiled and replied, “It was too cold, and I have a cold, so I covered myself up to be safe. You look so different, Phuc! It hasn’t been long, but I almost didn’t recognize you. Plus, your captivating eyes… I thought you looked like a French mixed-race person.”
So, Thinh Van didn’t read The Boys magazine, so he didn’t know how much my appearance had changed. This good boy is still as good as ever.
Thinh Van asked, “But why are you here, Phuc? Are you out? Who are you with?”
Ah, suddenly, thinking about it gave me a headache. Because I was with a man who “dominated” me every day but still wouldn’t give me any status.
I replied, “Oh, Phuc went with the boss. He’s in a meeting for a bit, I’m waiting for him out here.”
Thinh Van hesitated before asking, “So, Phuc… does Phuc have a girlfriend?”
From behind me, a chilling voice rang out: “Yes, I do! It’s me.” “Here I am!”
I turned my head and saw that Trường An had returned, I don’t know when, but he must have seen Thịnh Văn hugging me. Trường An pulled me forcefully towards him, glaring at Thịnh Văn with a murderous look, and asked, “Do you have any more questions?”
I quickly stepped in to mediate: “Brother An, this is Thịnh Văn, my friend from back in the countryside. And this is David Trường An, boss…”
Trường An interrupted: “Boss? You introduce me as your boss? Introducing me as your boyfriend makes you lose face, doesn’t it?”
I held out my hands, palms facing forward, and explained: “Calm down! Because… because… you’ve never confessed your feelings to me… How dare I call you my boyfriend…” Trường An seemed to understand, his eyebrows no longer furrowed. He looked at the camera in Thịnh Văn’s hand and said, “You know how to take pictures, right?” “Could you take a few pictures for me?”
Truong An handed his camera to Thinh Van, then pulled me to a well-lit spot. From his pocket, he took out a small, pretty red box. Then he knelt on one knee, opened the red box in front of me, and said, “Sorry for keeping you waiting.” “Will you be my girlfriend, Phúc?”
I had been looking forward to this moment, but right now I could only stand still like a statue. With other people watching, I was so embarrassed my face turned bright red.
I panicked even more when the people around me started applauding. Their openness was truly beyond my imagination.
I couldn’t say anything, I just silently nodded like a chicken pecking at grain. Trường An put the ring from the box on my finger, then stood up and kissed me without hesitation.
He pulled my hand and also raised his hand towards the camera, in his hand was the other ring, a matching pair.
The crowd around us erupted in joy. Many people took out their phones to take pictures and videos. I heard them whispering: “Quel beau couple.” “Quel beau couple!”
Afterward, Truong An led me to Thinh Van and asked again, “Do you have any more questions?”
Thinh Van seemed as shocked as I was, his face still showing signs of bewilderment. He softly replied, “I wish you both happiness! I hope you treat Phuc well. Otherwise, I’ll come and steal him away anytime.”
Truong An confidently replied, “I won’t let Phuc suffer any hardship. Don’t worry!”
That was the first time I’d seen two gentle people like Truong An and Thinh Van arguing. While Truong An went to talk to Mrs. Marry, I whispered to Thinh Van, “Sorry, Van. Phuc didn’t know about this beforehand either. I hope you’re not upset.”
Thinh Van laughed and replied, “I was just teasing him. I know he must love Phuc very much to dare to do something so reckless. He’s probably capable of taking Phuc anywhere she wants, just like she wished back then.” “As long as there’s a good person to take care of Phúc, Văn is sure he won’t be sad.”
I only managed to say a few more words before Trường An “grabbed me up” and carried me home. Who would have known that the “eldest son” of the Lê Thanh family, who lacked nothing from childhood to adulthood, also knew a dozen tricks to “compete” with his “rivals” outside?
But honestly, I was very happy, because finally I had an official status.
After three days staying at Mrs. Marry’s house, Trường An and I had to return home as other work was waiting. He promised to take me abroad when he had time, so I said, “Then let’s go back to France, shall we? There are so many museums I haven’t visited yet!”
Trường An coldly replied, “No! Anywhere is fine, but not France!” “Did you come here to see your Thịnh Văn again?”
I laughed happily at his jealousy. But suddenly remembering what happened yesterday, I felt a little worried: “What if your father finds out about this?”
It’s the internet age now, who knows, maybe by chance Mr. Nhật will see one of the photos.
Trường An calmly replied: “So you thought my father didn’t know about us?”
I was surprised that Mr. Nhật and his father were so open with each other. If that’s the case, he’s probably accepted me already; otherwise, he would have sent me back to my hometown a long time ago.
I happily leaned on Trường An’s shoulder, feeling completely different from before. He was now officially “mine,” not just a dreamy illusion that I could lose at any moment.