I snapped a photo of the gift box and sent it to him. “This one’s definitely from you, right?”
_LnVu replied: “Nope.”
“Come on,” I said. “Not just this one—both of them. Who are you trying to fool?”
He sent a grinning emoji. “You’re too smart! Fine, yeah—they’re both from me.”
The security guard’s description had already tipped me off. The photos on his B app profile showed a tall, ripped guy with abs to die for—easily the best body I’d ever seen. And if he was bold enough to send this gift, he was the only one who’d dare send the first one too.
So… it really wasn’t from the person I’d secretly hoped for.
I messaged him back: “Come pick up your gifts. Otherwise, check the trash.”
_LnVu: “You’d really do that to my feelings?”
I was blunt: “I hate getting gifts on women’s days the most! Got too much money? Take them back and give them to your mom.”
He dragged it out playfully: “Mom already has hers! Don’t be mad… please… I just wanted to give you something—it just happened to be 20/10. If you hate it, I’m sorry… I won’t do it again…”
I was annoyed, but reading that made me laugh. Where the hell did this guy come from—heaven or straight out of the ground? Still, out of habit, I don’t accept things from strangers.
I replied: “We don’t even know each other—I can’t accept gifts from you.”
“Then just keep them,” he said. “No one’s forcing you to open them now. Wait till we’re closer—then it won’t be too late. Consider it a ‘getting to know you’ gift!”
Half of me wanted to keep them, half wanted to toss them. In the end, I took the box upstairs and shoved it into the wardrobe. I wondered if this was how rich people made friends—just giving stuff away without needing a reason. But for some reason, even though we’d never met and barely knew each other, I didn’t sense any bad intentions from _LnVu.
Time passed, and _LnVu started chatting with me more and more. At some point, I even forgot he’d once tried to book me when I was desperate enough to consider “the industry.” Turns out he was actually a decent, kind-hearted guy—probably just someone who, in a moment of weakness, looked for fun outside his usual life. Like me, when money was tight and you’d think of anything.
Some things in life you only understand—and empathize with—after going through them yourself.
I still didn’t know much about his personality or what he looked like, but he was incredibly generous. One day I casually said: “Damn, the new high-top from brand B is gorgeous!”
_LnVu: “That brand makes ugly shoes—what new model is nice?”
I got defensive and sent him a photo, arguing: “Are you blind? How can you hate this?”
He must’ve realized how much I loved them—he dropped the argument. The next morning, when I opened my door to head to work, there they were, sitting right outside.
Size 38—perfect fit.
The smallest men’s size from brand B is 39. Not many people know I wear 38. Actually… saying “not many” is an overstatement. There’s really only one…
I messaged him: “Why’d you buy size 38? That’s the women’s size!”
His answer: “I got there late—only that size was left. Wanted to get them fast to make you happy. If they don’t fit, I’ll exchange them! So—do they fit or not? I’ll swap them for you!”
It sounded ridiculous but somehow believable. After that, I stopped mentioning anything I liked around _LnVu—he’d buy it without hesitation.
The shoes were honestly the thing I’d wanted most, but we weren’t anything to each other. Even though we’d grown closer, getting stuff without “earning” it sometimes made me uneasy.
To “return the favor” for the shoes, for the past month I’d bring him a milk tea every night after work, walk to his building, message him to come down, and leave. Some nights I’d hide in a corner to catch him picking it up—planning to jump out and finally meet face-to-face. But every time I hid, I’d get a message: “Go home—I’ll come down for the tea!”
I’d reply: “Already home. Go get it.”
_LnVu: “Liar. I can see you hiding behind the planter in the lobby! Trying to ambush me? Not that easy, haha!”
It was weird. The guard had said he was tall and handsome—why keep hiding his face? At first I thought he was the creepy one for watching me, but now I’d become the stalker. _LnVu was just too private—didn’t leave a single trace.
He’d tell me: “Stop bringing me milk tea every day. I’m getting fat! You’ll start complaining soon.”
“So I’ll stop tomorrow?” I teased.
He whined: “Nooo…”
“Then I’ll complain?”
He fake-panicked: “You can’t! You’re responsible for me now! If I get fat and no one wants me, you’ll have to pay!”
I had no idea how old he actually was, but he talked to me like a whiny teenager. I didn’t have any deeper intentions, but I couldn’t deny that since he showed up, I’d been a lot happier.
Some wounds always heal, no matter how bad the pain.
Like someone else… who’s probably forgotten me and been doing great for a long time.
Maybe, long ago, someone suddenly appeared in their life too—to make them smile again and pull them out of old pain. I never found anyone strong enough to do that for me, so I just kept trudging along until now.
We’d been talking for a while, but I still didn’t know his real name. His profile was vague—only a cryptic bio: “Moonlight on water.” Mysterious and elusive. I’m a little scared of ghosts, so sometimes I wondered if _LnVu was even real.
One day I couldn’t hold back: “This might sound rude, but… do you actually exist in real life?”
He didn’t reply—just sent a 15-second video. I played it and nearly jumped: no face, just his rock-hard cock waving its red tip at the camera. He gripped the base—one hand didn’t even cover it all; there was room for another. At least 18cm, thick, veiny.
I yelled: “What the hell? I asked if you’re real, not if you have a dick!”
_LnVu: “Can someone be real without a dick?”
I shouted: “Be serious!”
Instead of texting, he video-called me. I picked up fast. On the screen: _LnVu naked on his bed, cock standing proud. The body was exactly like his photos—insanely hot. But he wore a bunny mask covering half his face, somehow making him even sexier.
He lay there, one hand at the base, the other stroking up and down. Pleasure twisted his visible expression; he moaned loudly. I hadn’t expected this and forgot to turn off speaker—his voice blared: “Ah… feels so good… oh fuck, baby…”
I nearly died of embarrassment in front of Duy Long and Ngọc Lễ, quickly plugging in earphones to keep watching. Yeah, I hadn’t thought he’d go full nude show, but who turns down a good movie? Especially when the star had the most stunning body I’d ever seen.
He watched my face while I stared at his cock gliding in his fist. “Like it, baby?”
I just smiled, too shy to admit I loved seeing him naked. “Tell me what you want me to do,” he said. “I’ll do it so you know I’m real!”
I didn’t dare speak—my roommates were right there—so I texted: “Lick your armpit.”
He brought his face to his underarm—shaved clean. Without hesitation, he licked it. Getting bolder, I typed: “Turn around—show me your ass.”
He flipped over, pushing his firm, round ass toward the camera. His pink hole pulsed on screen, making my cock leak. But it was perfectly smooth—no hair—so I teased: “Aha, power top! Super clean hole, huh?”
He quickly covered it with his hand. “Don’t get the wrong idea—I just keep it tidy!”
While he explained, I glanced around his room and spotted a fleshlight in the corner. I pointed at the screen. He turned, saw it, grabbed it, and slid the head of his cock inside.
It was a double-ended toy—when he pulled it to the base, it only covered half his length. He thrust hard, moaning louder with every stroke. And he kept calling my name: “I’m so fucking horny, Hưng! Ah… I want to fuck your hole, not this toy… my cock’s about to explode, Hưng! I need it so bad… come suck me, Hưng!”
It had been ages since I’d heard dirty talk like that—it brought back memories of my wilder days. _LnVu thrust into the toy using his hips, balls swinging gently. I couldn’t take it anymore—rushed to the bathroom, yanked down my pants, and jerked off in sync.
He was lost in it, not noticing I’d switched to the rear camera. I stood in front of the mirror, cock on the sink edge, stroking hard. My phone shook in my hand. When he finally realized I was showing mine too, he freaked: “You started without warning me? Damn, I missed precious minutes!”
And just like that, without planning, we were having phone sex. I only let out heavy breaths so he’d know how turned on I was. He moaned for both of us—deep, warm voice spilling filthy words. It was the most aroused I’d been in forever, all through a screen and his voice in my head. Veins bulged on my cock as I gripped tighter to hold back. He was close too.
“Hưng… come with me… fuck, I’m so close, Hưng! You’re driving me crazy! I can’t hold it… my cock… ah… Hưng… I’m coming… ah… ah…”
He aimed straight at the camera—when he shot, cum splattered the lens, turning my screen milky white before dripping down. I angled upward and unloaded, ropes hitting the mirror with wet slaps. I stepped back and showed him the mess. He teased: “Don’t clean it—I’ll run over and lick it all up!”
The special people who’ve come into my life are all so different. Some wait quietly, hoping I’ll accept their feelings. Others rush in, almost forcing me to accept their care. I can’t say for sure what I’m feeling right now. Could it be… that _LnVu is actually making me open up again?