With Anna in Saigon

Not too long ago, my all-time favorite former student, Anna, whose actual name was Lam, had posted a photo of a painting by Monet on Facebook and added a lovely text on the beauty of beauty. Yes, touring the best art museums and galleries in Europe with Anna was probably the most enchanting vision of life I could develop.

As Europe was changing dramatically, at the moment – and definitely not to the better – I found comfort in the idea of being able to, one day, saunter through the Ho Chi Minh City Museum of Fine Arts with her. Anna was living and working in Saigon, as Vietnam’s biggest city was customarily called.

I, on the other hand, was living in Central Vietnam, 600 miles north, together with my wife and our son, where Anna had attended school, including our private English Academy, and where her parents were still living with her younger brother. She also had a fraternal twin-sister, who looked totally different; she was almost chubby. Anna didn’t fully trust her, though, as she had once told me.

Of course, it was absurd to seriously imagine traveling through Europe with Anna: Like I said, I was married and more than twice her age: While I was closer to 50 than to 40, she was only a tender twenty-one. Well, twenty-one-and-a-half. And yet, we both knew we had a very special connection, about which we had talked in the past.

We loved each other, like favorite student and teacher. Plus a bit more. A lot more, actually; at least, on my part. We had met a few times after she had graduated high school here, in our small nondescript town, before she had left for Saigon to attend university there.

Unfortunately, there had always been Chinh, too, a fellow student of hers from high school. He had also attended classes at the private English school, where I was teaching at the time, so I knew him fairly well. Their parents had been friends forever and, as young as Anna was, she needed someone to chaperone her. There was no other way.

Anna had favorably commented on my proposal to, at least, imagine what it would be like to mosey through the best art museums in Europe, and she agreed that we could go to the Ho Chi Minh City Museum of Fine Arts the next time I would be in Saigon. Yes, that would be lovely and exciting, she had said.

Now, the problem was: When would I be able to find an excuse to go to Saigon? And under what pretext? Of course, I would also have to be alone on that trip, just in case it turned out that Anna would want to join me in my hotel room. However, my passport was valid until October 2027, and we also had all the papers together that we needed for our son.

Well, there was a glimmer of hope, when the director of the small school where I was currently working asked me to attend a workshop for the new textbook series we had just introduced. In a few months, the lady from the publisher would be in Da Nang again, but, as it was only me who was using the new series with the older students, I could also fly down to Saigon for four days, our director suggested.

We agreed that we would split the cost: She would pay for my plane ticket and one decent meal per day, while I would take care of the hotel. That would be better than waiting for several months, teaching without the proper introduction to the new books and the additional material available, wouldn’t it? I had persuaded her.

As the publisher’s course in Saigon went from Wednesday to Friday, I booked plane tickets from Tuesday to Saturday, since I knew that Anna had to work on Saturday evenings, anyway. She had two jobs, actually: the one in the evening was with Zalo, a social networking site, here in Vietnam.

Of course, Anna was super-excited when I told her I was coming to Saigon and told me that her day-job was kinda flexible and only required her to be in the office for two or three hours in the morning and the afternoon, each. Her gig with Zalo went from five-thirty to eight in the evening, six days a week, except on Fridays.

We agreed that she wouldn’t pick me up from the airport but meet me in the evening, instead. We could grab a bite to eat and forge plans for the week. Of course, I was intrigued that she would want to see me already on Tuesday evening and, overall, more than once, apparently.

After knowing each other for almost eight years, this would be the first time we would spend together, just the two of us. Or would she bring Chinh? After all, he was also living in Saigon. Well, I wouldn’t mind seeing him once: He was handsome and smart. I had actually met him without Anna for beers in their hometown; just not her without him.

I now remembered that Anna had lied to her parents to see me in the evening at the only bar that had beer on tap in her hometown: She had told her mom that she would go for coffee and had Chinh pick her up, who then delivered her to the aforementioned bar, where I had been waiting impatiently, smoking one cigarette after the other. Chinh probably knew that I incurably loved her.

Yes, Anna’s mother was fairly strict and had always called her around quarter-to-ten, every time at that bar. Once, even Anna’s grandma did, who was also living at their house. Maybe that would happen again but now, there were 600 miles between Anna and her family. And Anna also had a long lunch break from about eleven to half past two in the afternoon.

Anna probably couldn’t or wouldn’t want to stay overnight, would she? Of course, I had dreamed about her doing exactly that, perhaps two-hundred times already. Now again, as I was waiting at the modest departure lounge of our small provincial airport. At least, they had decent food for moderate prices, so that I could easily kill some time.

Anna had just texted me when and where we would meet tonight: Just after eight, at the large, yellowish-orange phone store, one block behind the Presidential Palace. At the huge roundabout. Of course, she didn’t want me to come directly to her office, as people would see me there and then ask her the next day who the older foreigner was she had met.

Since there were only ten or fifteen planes per day here, at Chu Lai airport, everything went smooth and easy. As I had an aisle seat, I envisioned our time together in Saigon over the next few days and kept reminiscing about gorgeous, willowy Anna; especially, how she had often bobbed her slender naked legs under her grey badminton dress.

And spread them, by 90 degrees. I still didn’t know if, back then, Anna had just been cold, as skinny as she was, or if she had truly been aroused. I had also caught her looking at me quite often, for much longer than is customary between student and teacher. And she had sometimes seemed upset when my wife had visited our classroom.

I still couldn’t really imagine that she would have sex with me. And yet, that was all I did. Incessantly. I couldn’t think of anything else. Was she still a virgin, like so many upper-middle-class girls in Vietnam, who preserved themselves for marriage?

Of course, I hadn’t forgotten that I was married, but my wife and I had stopped having sex years ago. We were living together like friends, which wasn’t the worst option or situation. Although she hadn’t been part of the upper middle-class, she also had stayed a virgin until our wedding.

Well, almost. After we had gotten engaged, officially, petting in the park was suddenly okay. She had also visited me a few times in the hotel room where I was living, in the morning, when there wasn’t much to do at the nearby restaurant where she was working at the time.

After our son had been born, we shared one bed, until that robbed me of too much sleep and so, we decided to spend the nights in separate bedrooms. In addition, my wife liked going to bed around half past eight, whereas I often worked until almost nine. Obviously, I wouldn’t sleep before midnight. I just couldn’t.

And then, during the strict Covid-lockdown, when we all were confined to our houses for months, my wife and I couldn’t find the time or place to have sex. Our son never was a good napper; once, we tried, until he showed up in the bedroom door and started crying bitterly. Which broke my heart. Temporarily. I don’t know about my wife’s.

The plane had landed, in the meantime, and we got on the bus that was waiting for us irrelevant passengers from the provinces on the tarmac. Since I only had carry-on luggage, I swiftly sauntered through the densely packed airport, but decided to pass the waving cab drivers and take the city bus, instead, which cost only about 25 cents.

I had been to Saigon multiple times and knew the city well. Said bus stopped near the apartment hotel that I had booked in advance, hoping that they wouldn’t be as strict as at a regular hotel, where all guests had to register with the local police. I didn’t dare to dream of Anna spending a whole night with me, but an hour in the afternoon, perhaps?

Would they allow her to just come up to my room with me? Well, it was still illegal for unmarried couples to occupy a hotel room together but, all over Vietnam, unmarried couples went to small hotels that were renting rooms by the hour, for sex. Well, perhaps she would have to show her ID briefly to prove that she was 18 – and that would be it.

Couldn’t I have asked the hotel about their policy in advance? Well, I was too superstitious for that. Anna hadn’t even given the slightest hint yet that she would want me to touch, kiss, and hold her. The condoms I used to carry in my wallet as a young man had usually remained there, until they expired.

And I found it simply impossible to discuss matters of the heart using electronic devices and digital communication channels. No, Anna and I would meet in person later today, and the chemistry between us would determine in which direction and how far we would develop our friendship over the next few days. Maybe years.

The concierge lady was already a bit older, about my age, but still pretty charming. She didn’t look as if she would deny Anna access to the elevator, at noon, this Thursday or Friday. And if so, a 200,000-dong bill might do the trick. Which was like eight bucks; enough for one day in provincial Vietnam. Easily.

The room was pretty nice: subtle pastel colors, nice pictures on the walls, clean and friendly. Spacious, with modern appliances. I would have preferred a room with the balcony facing south, toward the city, but then, the north side meant that it wouldn’t be as hot. I could probably even sleep with the balcony door open, as I didn’t like A/C too much, although it was nice to have it now, in the afternoon.

The room even had two beds: a nice King-sized and a smaller single bed. Yes, everything was aesthetically pleasing if not outright charming. Since I didn’t have any plans till eight, I took a quick shower, after which I lay down on the double bed to message my wife and Anna. I eventually dozed off, but when I woke up, neither of them had replied.

Probably since they both were working. So, I dressed and went downstairs to saunter in the general direction, where I would meet Anna in three hours. Of course, here in District 1, everything was twice if not three times as expensive as elsewhere in Vietnam, but I hadn’t been here for six years or so and enjoyed the cosmopolitan atmosphere.

Well, Anna and I had agreed to eat together later, but that was still hours away, and I was hungry. So, I went into an Indian restaurant, to which I had been nine years earlier with my mother and then, later, another former student of mine – who wasn’t quite as ravishing as Anna.

Although she was ultra-slim and willowy, Anna didn’t appear malnourished or even haggard. Like many young Vietnamese girls, she just had the genes. And then, her mother wasn’t huge so perhaps, she had been short-changed a bit in the womb. As far as I remembered, Anna ate as much as other people and didn’t explicitly try to stay slim. No, she had nice soft features.

But it wasn’t just that Anna was stunningly beautiful to look at; she was also kind and caring, smart and witty. And ultra-sensitive. Of course, I would have loved to have her here with me, at the restaurant, but two tables over was, at least, another slender young woman with reddish dyed her, who reminded me of her.

And I would see Anna multiple times over the next few days, from what it sounded like. Hopefully. But perhaps she had a boyfriend now, as dazzling and strikingly charming as she was. That would only be normal, at her age, although she probably wanted to take her time with getting married and having children.

I couldn’t even imagine her being pregnant, though, as narrow as her hips were; not much more than eight, perhaps nine inches wide. Maybe she would develop some more, until she would be 25, I had just thought to myself, when the waiter brought the appetizer plate, which I had ordered to leave some room for the food I would eat with Anna later.

Said plate, however, was packed with all kinds of things, such as samosas, and contained more food than a proper dish would have. Oh, well. The young lady over there, who reminded me of Anna, wasn’t quite as gorgeous; the woman with her looked like her mother. They were talking quietly, and now that I was looking at them again, they didn’t seem to be Vietnamese.

Korean, perhaps. What I liked, though, was that both were wearing dresses, which is still common in this part of the world. Yes, Anna had worn quite an array of dresses over the years, more so than her peers. She really could wear anything, but pants would have made her legs look skinny, I guess.

The food wasn’t great, though. Not bad, but I wouldn’t come back here with Anna. I knew another Indian restaurant, which we could try together. If the place was still there. As that was still possible in Vietnam, I lit a ciggy to take a break from eating, and looked at the old-fashioned clock on the wall. I still had more than an-hour-and-a-half, before I would meet Anna.

My heart was already beating faster, it seemed. I ordered another beer, but when it arrived, I also asked for the check. Since I had so much time left, I decided not to take a cab; it was only about a mile to where we would meet. The cab driver might also get pissed if I only went on such a short ride.

The weather was nice, too: tropically warm, of course, but not too humid. Anna’s office was near the War Remnants Museum, where I looked at the tanks and helicopters that the Vietnamese had captured during the war. On the way, I had also seen those two older fighter jets and the two tanks in the park surrounding the Presidential Palace.

I decided to buy ice-cream, so that Anna wouldn’t smell the cigarette smoke on my breath and grew increasingly nervous, the closer I came to meeting her; like a teenager on or during his first date. Although Anna and I didn’t even have a date tonight. Perhaps tomorrow. Or the next day. At the Museum of Fine Arts.

This year, over Tet, I had met Anna only very briefly, barely an hour, at a café. With Chinh, of course. Yes, would she ask him to chaperone her, at least once? Hoping that I would like the idea? She knew that I enjoyed his company. But then, she must understand that I liked her much more. Like a man loves a woman.

Or would she bring her twin-sister? Probably not, as I knew that Anna didn’t trust her. Nhung didn’t drink, for instance, and would rat Anna out to their mother if she caught her with an alcoholic beverage. Or with her former English teacher, who was more than twice her age. Nhung would probably relay that to their mother as well, hot off the press.

Did they actually have a Monet at the Museum of Fine Arts here, in Saigon? Probably not. We would find out. As nervous as I was, I lit another ciggy, when I arrived at that huge yellow phone store she had asked me wait in front of. Fuck it. Anna knew I smoked but had never complained or hinted that I shouldn’t.

And we wouldn’t kiss, anyway; here, in this busy location. Or at all. People didn’t kiss in the street in Vietnam, not even married couples. Those less than ever. I remembered this roundabout from the week I had arrived in Vietnam for the every first time, more than ten years ago.

I had stayed in District 5, at a hotel that hadn’t even been completed yet. When I had returned with my mother, a year later, still only four out of eight floors had been done. And yet, they had guests stay there. I wondered if it was complete now.

There were more cars today, everywhere in Vietnam. Even in our nondescript town, not too far from Da Nang. Vietnam had a luxury tax, which made cars twice as expensive, but people still hankered for them, even though many side streets in our town were too narrow. The little alley, where our house was, was just as wide as a modern SUV, with no room for error.

No, just the luxury tax wouldn’t prevent people from buying cars. Which was probably not intended, anyway. There were quite a lot of electric vehicles, too, which were produced in Vietnam. Of course, this roundabout here was hell, as clogged as it was. But still, not as bad an Manila or Jakarta. Soon. Maybe.

As Anna hadn’t arrived yet, I lit another ciggy and looked at my phone to see if she had written me a message and what the time was: nine minutes after eight. But now, I saw her moseying through the throng of people 40 yards away. She was wearing a red company polo with a blueish logo on her left chest as well as blue jeans, which she had combined with teal canvas sneakers.

We smiled at each other when she had come closer and then hugged very briefly. I pressed my nose into her hair, as she was about ten inches shorter than me, like most Vietnamese girls. A lot of ladies, like my wife, weren’t even 4’9” or 10”.

Anna’s purse’s brown leather strap was squeezing her little right boob, until she rearranged matters, so that it came to rest between her enticing hemispheres. She suggested going into a side street, where she knew a spiffy and hip bistro. As we were turning, I asked her where she actually lived:

“Not too far from here. I can walk to my house, later.”

“I’ll take you home,” I instantly offered, although Vietnam was safe, for the most part.

Since Anna knew that I was in town for a few days, she wouldn’t come to my hotel tonight, and I wouldn’t ask her to. Luckily, we had a bit more time to refresh our friendship and let things develop more naturally. Yet, I didn’t have any indication how far she would want to go. Would Anna spend the last night with me, before I would fly home again, on Saturday?

Anyway, after we had sat down in the bistro, I confessed that I had already eaten dinner, while we were looking at the small, nicely laminated menu.

“We can eat together tomorrow,” Anna smiled, looking at me.

Of course, I liked that she wasn’t reproachful, as I hadn’t waited to be able to eat together, but it was difficult to admire her, as we were sitting next to each other. The small joint was really busy. At least, our thighs were touching and I, at least, could feel the energy flowing back and forth between us.

As tender as Anna was, she hadn’t ordered much, but still insisted on sharing the food. We were drinking some interesting tea concoction, with milk and tons of spices, which was super-popular in Vietnam. She seemed in good spirits but was tired from working all day, but when she apologized, I told her gently that there was no need:

“That’s normal. Don’t feel bad about being tired in the evening.”

I noticed that she must have applied lipstick, just before she had left her office and told her how beautiful she looked, still:

“As always,” I added.

Anna smiled abashedly and nodded, before she took another of those sushi pieces in front of her. Not to stare at her incessantly, I looked around the room: Ten years earlier, there hadn’t been any bistros like this one here. Yes, overall, Vietnam was doing well, economically.

I noticed again that her ears were kinda large but, of course, I didn’t say anything. Anna was perfect as she was. Which I would tell her later this week, perhaps more than once. But not now. What was she supposed to reply?! And how could I amp it up?

Not only in her ear but also on her index finger, she was wearing a new ring, which I had never seen before. The latter would have driven me nuts, typing, but maybe she took it off, at her desk. Although Anna was done eating, she said she wanted to digest for another five minutes and finish her tea, before we would take off:

“And what do you do at your day-time job?” I asked her, to make a little conversation.

She had told me about the gig at Zalo in February, over Tet, the Lunar New Year.

“Import-Export liaison. We bring foreign companies together that don’t want to set up a business in Vietnam. Because of the tax system.”

“Too much paperwork, and all the red tape?”

“Exactly,” she nodded and finished her tea.

Well, that was quick. She had effectively summarized everything in one or two sentences, but now I didn’t know what to say. I could have asked her if her job entailed a lot of English but that wasn’t important enough to be blocking the table: There were about five young people waiting in the door, and so we got up and went to pay the bill.

“I guess you wanna go home?” I asked Anna, although I kinda knew the answer already.

I hadn’t asked to pave the way for me to suggest going to my hotel but a bar, rather, for a night-cap. I didn’t know the neighborhood well enough, however, to suggest a place. And she was tired. Anna nodded barely noticeably and touched my elbow to encourage me to go outside, where we instantly turned right.

“Are you coming to the next corner with me?” she inquired rhetorically.

And so, we sauntered toward her apartment, which she was sharing with her twin-sister and a friend, as far as I remembered. She had talked about her living situation several times in the past. The three of them had already attended college together.

“We shouldn’t say goodbye in front of our house. My sister might see you,” Anna chuckled quietly, after we had crossed the street: “She doesn’t know that you are here. But she knows who you are,” she added with a little smile, looking up at me.

Yes, she also had perfect teeth. And a wonderful mouth, which I wanted to kiss, sometime this week. I tried to make out the name of the company on her little heaving chest, but it was a bit too dark for that. I didn’t want to stare at her young bosom for too long.

Well, if I had been in Saigon for only one night: Would I have asked her to come to my hotel with me? Or would she have hinted that she would want that? Well, fortunately, we both knew that I was in town for four more days, and so we left it at a quick, innocent hug, during which I pressed my lips into her hair. Subtly. Barely perceptibly.

I was still sure that she noticed, as sensitive as she was. As had been my intention, anyway. We agreed to text each other in the morning around eleven and then have lunch together. Perhaps. My seminar ended at half past ten.

“I don’t know if the museum is open tomorrow. Thursday might be better. Tomorrow, I gotta work a bit more than usual,” Anna summarized her situation.

“Sure. I gotta go to my workshop, too, in the morning and then in the afternoon again,” I quickly reminded her.

After I had walked backward for about ten feet, still looking at her, I hollered a tender Chuc Lam ngu ngon! which meant Sleep well, Lam! She laughed and waved at me, before she turned and continued the last bit to her apartment building. Of course, I waited those few seconds to make sure she made it home alright.

After she had disappeared inside, I lit a ciggy and turned around to walk the half-a-mile or so back to my hotel. She hadn’t turned her head, but I refused to think about how she had perceived our brief encounter this evening. That was pointless; the next few days would show how intense our feelings for each other were.

When I saw a little bar on my way home, I went in; after all, it wasn’t even close to ten yet. I smoked, texted my wife, and drank three bottles of beer but, overall, resisted the temptation to envision what the following four days might yield.

Back at the hotel, I took a brief shower and then lay down to bed. The seminar would begin at half past seven already, so that I had to get up at six. I wrote another, fairly long message to my wife, mentioning that I had met one of my former students for dinner. Which was true. Kind of.

My wife knew quite a few of my former students, and she had also met Anna. But there had always been others, so that I wasn’t sure if she would remember her. Now, Anna wished me a Good Night and, of course, I texted her back, before I switched off the lights to sleep.

Since it was still kinda early, I browsed Twitter for a bit, and again chased thoughts about my relationship with Anna away, since I didn’t want heaps of reckless or audacious images to be in the way when we would be approaching each other. Tired as I was, after traveling 600 miles, I fell asleep relatively early, hoping to dream of Anna.

The next morning I quickly shaved and then went downstairs to look for a joint that sold banh mi opla – baguette with fried eggs. Which usually came in a little cast-iron pan in the shape of a cow, for some reason. Still sizzling. Sunny side up, with onions. With cucumber and tomato slices, parsley, and fresh chili on a little extra plate.

Just as my wife, I usually flipped the eggs over to be safe and waited a bit, before I would cut the baguette length-wise to stuff it with everything. The good thing was that I could walk to the office tower, where the textbook workshop was taking place.

When I entered the room, there were like 22 or 25 mostly middle-aged folks, about half Vietnamese and the other half being foreigners. More ladies than guys. Most teachers had a laptop in front of them, but I had left mine at home, as I knew that my mind and soul would be preoccupied with ravishing Anna. And the publisher had prepared a nice set of handouts, anyway, which we could take home with us on Friday.

The seminar began pretty much as unexciting as I had imagined it. Fortunately, the lady quickly moved on to the additional materials that were available on the publisher’s website. I would have been able to find them without anyone’s help, but I was glad to be here, in Saigon, of course.

So, there were extra videos and worksheets, which would be helpful at some point, sure. And I don’t want to bad-mouth the course: the lady spoke fluently, albeit with a strong accent. I kept browsing the stack of handouts and occasionally looked around the room. I was tempted to get my phone out to see if Anna had written anything, but didn’t want to be impolite.

And I didn’t have the password for the Wi-Fi, anyway. At some point, there was a break, during which I ended up chatting with two Swedish ladies of my generation. Funnily, they asked me if I had plans for the evening. Needless to say, I told them politely that, yes, indeed, I had already made arrangements to meet someone. Although technically, that wasn’t true.

I told them perhaps tomorrow, knowing that that wouldn’t materialize, either. Anna and I would go for dinner or a drink, wouldn’t we? Anyway, around half past ten, the seminar was over for the morning, but there was a change in plans: tomorrow, on Thursday, we wouldn’t meet in the morning, only in the afternoon.

But already at half past two. Should I say something, like that I had plans already? Well, Anna and I could also go to the museum on Friday, quasi as the highlight of my stay, couldn’t we? Anyway, when I had stepped into the street, I decided to go for a coffee, as there would be decent Wi-Fi at the coffee shop.

The young waitress was pretty and talkative; when she finally was gone, I read my messages and then texted Anna. And my wife. I was smoking a ciggy and took a sip of my coffee, before I reached for my phone again. Anna wanted to go home for lunch to take a shower and a nap, change clothes, and suggested to postpone the meal together:

Dinner might be nicer. We both got up early today, she had written.

Frankly, as much as I wanted to see her, I liked the idea, as I felt a nap oncoming. Ideally, we would nap together, of course, but then we wouldn’t be able to sleep. As I was entertaining the thought, the nymphet asked me where exactly my hotel was, suggesting she would swing by and pick me up around one-thirty:

So that you don’t have to sit around and wait for me, all by yourself, she had added with a winking smiley.

Two, actually. Well ok, then. Eventually, she reminded me that she had to work at three and then again until eight in the evening, for Zalo. Well, from what it sounded like, we would see each other twice today.

Elated, I moseyed back to the hotel, where I met a younger receptionist today, who was also pretty good-looking. She even checked me out a bit, like she was entertaining the thought to visit me upstairs; later, when her shift would be over.

Yes, middle-aged foreigners were extremely popular in Southeast Asia. I had never received so much attention as a male as in Thailand and here, in Vietnam. And no, not just from hookers. Anyway, freshly imbued with a slew of positive energy, I went upstairs to my room, where I took a brief shower and then lay down for a quick nap.

When I woke up, it seemed much darker than it had been in the morning, and the air smelled like it would rain any minute. I dressed and stepped onto the balcony to smoke but then, I already heard a faint knock on the door. Oh, was that the young receptionist?

Of course, not. It was my beloved Anna. She seemed a bit sheepish, as she passed me; perhaps, as she had taken the liberty to just come up. She put her backpack on the floor, near the foot end of the single bed, and then checked out the room, after she had sat down. On the foot end of the single bed.

“Is that okay?” she asked, but I didn’t know what she meant, as drowsy as I still was.

“That you’ve come up?” I asked her back, still slightly puzzled: “Sure, of course.”

“No, that I’m sitting here in ‘street clothes’, on the bed,” she clarified, using air quotes: “My mom always told me not to do that,” she giggled.

“Oh. Why not?! There’s a bedspread. And you don’t wanna take your jeans off right now, do you?” I asked her rhetorically, to make light of the situation.

Although I liked the idea. The weather was perfect for a little afternoon snuggle.

“We’re taking off in a minute, anyway, aren’t we?” I asked her.

Anna shrugged shoulders, but then got up to step out, onto the balcony. Had she come up so that we could kiss, finally? Or even more? Eagerly, I rushed after her but, right when I wanted to gently place my hands onto her narrow hips, she turned around and said:

“The lady downstairs told me to just go up.”

Fitting the moment, there was thunder clap in the distance, like in a theater. As if we were being pulled on strings, we stepped back into the room together where, this time, I sat down on the foot end of the single bed; right where Anna had been sitting five minutes prior. She didn’t know what to do and checked out the room again.

After Anna had stepped between my knees, I hesitatingly reached for her wrists and pulled her a bit closer. I noticed that she looked kinda pale and asked her if she was alright but, before she would answer, she sat down on my left thigh. My heart was pounding in my throat, when she said:

“Your room is nice. Beautiful.”

“Yeah, I like it, too,” was all I could reply.

A You are much more beautiful would have been too fucking corny, of course. Somehow, however, my right hand had landed on her right thigh, which was closer to me. For the first time ever. Anna placed her right hand onto my left shoulder, and I asked her again if she wasn’t feeling well:

“Yes, no… well, I got my period,” she eventually chuckled: “Today should be the last day, though.”

I was instantly reminded how Anna had once – just like Nhung, her twin-sister – posted a picture of herself in a cool grey hoodie, holding some sort of menstruation-wellness-package, by courtesy of Kotex, on Facebook. Which I still found courageous. I didn’t say anything, though. Maybe later.

Looking at the blueish stitched company logo on her little breast, I watched my hand caress her belly, before it placed itself on her little left boob. Somehow. Well, technically, I only touched her soft bra. And only ever so slightly. I was still startled, perhaps even more than she was. Had that been too much?

Anna was looking at me with a mocking smile, but glossed over my, possibly, minor transgression by stroking my hair, like I was her little brother:

“Oh, Mister Ben!” she chuckled quietly, not seeming embarrassed at all.

Even though my real name was Douglas, I had changed it to Ben, as that was easier to pronounce for the Vietnamese. For some reason – perhaps to thank her or to cover up my little rashness a minute ago – I asked Anna to call me Douglas from now on. And to scrap the Mister. Obviously, we had just entered a new era, another realm.

“Okay,” she nodded and got up, after which she stroked my hair again: “Like a mouse,” she giggled, and I was eternally grateful that she had handled the endearingly tense situation so gracefully.

Eventually, Anna stepped out of the triangle of my thighs and reached for her backpack. As her brief visit here had gone so exceedingly well, I quickly got up, too, to not ruin anything.

“I gotta eat something. Aren’t you hungry, too?” I asked her.

“Today, I’ve eaten already,” she giggled endearingly, alluding to the scenario last night.

“Well, what time do you have to be at work? I gotta be at the seminar at three-thirty.”

“At three,” she said, as we were leaving the room.

We still had about an hour, almost. Since the Vietnamese didn’t mind holding hands – even grown men would take another man’s hand to guide him into a wedding dinner, for instance – I just grabbed Anna’s, as elated and exuberant as I felt. She didn’t seem to mind at all, and I noticed again how feather-light her gait was.

Yeah, Anna only weighed around 90 pounds, and even her hair was bobbing, as we were parading through the spacious lobby downstairs. The young receptionist shot us a knowing smile, and we went outside, where we let go of our hands, though, to not overdo it.

“The lady probably thinks that I’m your young girlfriend,” Anna remarked, blushing.

“Well, that is an enticing thought,” I nodded and sighed, not expecting an answer.

And yes, we just smiled at each other, but I would have given quite something to know what was going through her mind. But then, it would reveal itself, in all likelihood. Tomorrow. Not now. Or on Friday. Yes, no, I didn’t want to discuss the feelings we had for each other, but give them time to develop and show themselves.

Anyway, I had rarely felt better than on that short walk to the big roundabout, 200 yards away, where there was a bunch of restaurants. Anna’s mood had brightened, too, although it hadn’t been bad before. At all. For some reason, we went into the second restaurant, which turned out to center around crab meat.

So, we ordered crab soup, which was a classic in Vietnam, and fried crab-rolls, as I didn’t want to deal with crustacean shells. Frankly, I didn’t even know how to do that elegantly. Whole crabs were also expensive, and we didn’t have much time, anyway.

“Douglas, I’ve thought about it,” Anna began: “Perhaps, we shouldn’t see each other tonight,” Anna suddenly said.

Oh, Jesus?! What happened?! My heart sank to my boots. Now that we had experienced our first tender caresses?! I thought we were well on the way. Was she suddenly concerned, as I was married? I must have sighed audibly, as she was laughing now:

“No, it’s not that… well, you know, I’m not feeling too well. Because of my period, you know… but I can take off one morning per month, just like that. Which I will do tomorrow. We’ll have a nice breakfast, and then I’m free, until three in the afternoon.”

Of course, I was relieved. Hugely. But, before I could say anything, Anna spoke again:

“We could go to the museum tomorrow. And really take our time. That way would also be better, because of my sister. She already asked me last night where I was. If I stay out till ten-thirty tonight, she’ll tell our mom…”

“Did you tell her where you went last night… and with whom?”

“No. I don’t know… I don’t want her to know that we’re seeing each other, like I said. But, tomorrow morning, she’ll think I’m at work,” Anna eventually giggled, seeming happy and proud that she had come up with such a clever strategy.

“Well, I don’t have my seminar tomorrow morning. But, of course, for you, I would skip class, anyway,” I laughed, still relieved that things were developing so nicely: “I mean, I don’t need teacher training,” I added, needlessly, before I lit another ciggy.

The one after lunch was the best of the day, anyway. Perhaps, I should go out with the two Swedish ladies tonight to distract myself, I wondered, but then we asked for the check. Anna had to leave in five minutes. If I wasn’t mistaken, she had already ordered an Uber motorcycle, as was customary in Saigon.

When we saw the young man arrive on the sidewalk outside, Anna put her hand on my wrist to say goodbye. Our eyes were tracing each other but, unfortunately, we couldn’t kiss here, at the restaurant. The waitress was watching us, and it would have been kinda awkward anyway, as Anna was already standing, whereas I was still in my seat.

Like in a wheel chair. And I still had half a beer. In the end, Anna just smiled and reiterated that she would message me this evening, after work. Yes, there they were again: her feather-light gait. And her little butt, in her blue jeans. In the door, she turned around briefly to smile and wave at me once more, but then she was gone.

After I had finished my beer, I left, too, of course. I walked back downtown, to the office tower, where another lady from the publisher was now demonstrating how teachers could make the most of the individual units in the textbook. Of course, this was somewhat boring; perhaps, I needed to come up with an excuse why I wouldn’t show up on Friday.

Since I was suddenly free that evening, I sought the company of the two Swedish ladies again, during the break, but they had already booked a river cruise. Well, that could be fun, and I had done things like that, but I still didn’t feel like booking tickets and sitting at the table with them on the ship. Most likely, without proper Wi-Fi.

And so, I decided to saunter through District 1, Saigon’s touristy center, after the seminar was over for the day. At some point, I went into a bar that catered to foreigners and had a few beers, but I wasn’t hungry yet. I sent both, my wife and Anna, a message, before I ended up on Twitter again.

At a nearby table, there were some middle-aged Australians, one of which came over to talk briefly. I also looked at the menu but didn’t feel like Western food, such as burgers and fries, and so I paid up and stepped outside. In the meantime, it had started to drizzle, and so I looked up and down the street and spotted a place that sold Pho – a hearty noodle soup, originally from Northern Vietnam.

Yeah, I didn’t carry an umbrella and would have to kill time here, before I would be able to move on. Or take a cab, for once. The soup turned out to be pretty good, just as the traditional music that was playing. As it was still relatively early and raining, there were only very few people in the large room, which had warm, corn-flakes-yellow walls.

When I was done eating, I even got up to look at the two dozen vintage black-and-white photos along the walls. The owner was watching me, but he didn’t strike up a conversation. In the end, I just paid, and we thanked each other. Happy that it had stopped raining, I went toward my hotel, but stopped once more for three beers or so.

Back in my room, I replied to the messages that both, my wife and Anna had sent in the meantime and smoked one last ciggy on the balcony. After a shower, I lay down naked on the large double bed and enjoyed the ceiling fan’s quiet work. Anna had written that she had just gone to bed; her sister didn’t seem to suspect anything, Anna had added.

We agreed to text each other again in the morning, before we would set a time and place to meet for breakfast. It sounded as if Anna knew a cool, hip place that had good food as well, but she wanted to sleep in and not rush things, which was understandable. After all, she was working two jobs.

Of course, I was utterly thrilled about the prospect of spending several hours together with her, tomorrow. Letting one half of my brain imagine what might happen, the other half sent a message to my wife and then, there was another round of Twitter, before I somehow fell asleep.

When I woke up, I saw that Anna had already sent me two messages: one at six-sixteen, in which she told me that she was already up, and another, just after seven, saying that she was eating at a cheap place near her house. Not the trendy joint she had wanted to take me to. She apologized with a bunch of smileys, but she had been really hungry.

Well, it was already 7:22. I went into the bathroom, wondering what the best way to proceed was. Before I would be ready, she would have finished her breakfast. Hmh. After a quick shower, I lay back down on the bed to see if she had sent me another message.

Yes: her period was over, and so she was already feeling much better, she had told me, with another smiley. C’mon, feeling much better would have been enough. There was a reason why she had brought up her menstrual cycle. But couldn’t I come up with something clever and witty, perhaps, now that things were going in the right direction?

As I was still thinking, Anna had already made a lovely proposal, though: Shouldn’t she get me breakfast – a banh mi and coffee – and then come up to my room again? Well, the more I thought about the idea, the more I loved it; especially, since I liked piddling away the first hour of the day, anyway.

Of course, I had sent her a thumbs-up emoji already, before I thanked her more tenderly for the splendid idea to procure breakfast and show up here at my room, at seven-thirty in the morning. I dressed and then went out onto the balcony, where I enjoyed the gorgeous light of this splendid July morning. Until she knocked, and I opened the door.

Since she had half-a-day off, Anna was wearing a short thin skirt, which covered the upper half of her beguiling, slender thighs, as well as a light linen blouse with a floral pattern at the bottom and around the neck. Of course, she looked drop-dead gorgeous; especially, as she had put on subtle make-up, including lipstick.

Standing in the middle of the room, she was positively beaming:

“Here’s your banh mi,” she smiled: “And the coffee. On the balcony?” she asked.

Since Anna knew that there were two chairs outside and a small table, she didn’t even wait for an answer but just went out there, where she put my breakfast on the table. I didn’t even know what to say. Of course, she took off her small spiffy black backpack, which she then put on the floor; inside, near the balcony door.

After she had taken a look over the neighborhood, Anna let herself fall into the wicker armchair and crossed her legs:

“You look absolutely stunning,” was all I could say, before I took a sip of my coffee, which had way too much milk in it.

Of course, I didn’t complain but just lit a ciggy.

“Well, I can’t show myself just in jeans and the red polo shirt of the company, all the time,” she replied nonchalantly, which was pretty darn sexy.

Under her light linen blouse, which may have had some cotton in it as well, I was able to make out her beige bra, which was almost the color of her skin. I noticed again how long and straight her arms seemed, as slim and tender as she was. Anna also had rather elegant, relatively large hands.

But her thighs were absolutely divine. Yes, they were at the lower end of what was healthy and attractive, perhaps only six inches in diameter, but her skin was heavenly smooth. And how her left thigh was squeezed from below by its own weight, on top of the other, was revoltingly hot, as it gave her flesh the perfect shape and proportion.

“The woman from yesterday is downstairs again. She just nodded and smiled, before she told me to go upstairs to see you,” Anna giggled, which sounded super sweet.

And hot.

“She probably wondered why you didn’t stay overnight,” I tried to keep the ball up in the air and steer our conversation in the right direction.

“Well, she knows that I’m fairly young, still. Perhaps, she thinks that I’m living with my parents, here in Saigon,” Anna surmised.

“But she, apparently, doesn’t mind that you’re visiting me here…”

“Oh, no. She seems to enjoy it, even,” Anna giggled again, seeming happy that a more mature woman was endorsing her adventures, as something natural and wholesome.

“Well, she’s a generous soul,” I surmised, chewing my baguette, which was pretty good.

As I didn’t want to talk about the lady downstairs, as attractive as she was, I just kept eating and looking at my all-time favorite student: smart, kind, sensitive, gracious, elegant, and devastatingly ravishing Anna, whose blouse was a bit too large and wide to let the beauty of her upper body really shine, though. But, man: her long legs…

Anna had brought a tea for herself, from which she was sipping from time to time. Now, she asked if I liked the banh mi, to which I just replied with a nod and a grunt, before I took the penultimate bite. But now, Anna suddenly had interesting news:

“Douglas, do you know what: We can’t go to the museum today.”

“Oh, they’re closed on Thursdays?” I inquired, but then noticed an oncoming erection.

“No, but this week… I don’t know the exact word, but the Head of the Communist Party just died, so the whole country is… grieving, I guess… would be the word.”

“Yeah, that would be called National Mourning Day, or something.”

“It’s three days, actually.”

“What was his name again?” I asked Anna, as that was the polite thing to do; heavenly young thighs or not.

“Nguyen Phu Trong.“

Now, she got up, probably to use the restroom. Her pale, greyish-teal-blueish skirt was thin but consisted of several layers. I liked that she hadn’t overdone it, though; I wasn’t able to tell if she was wearing that skirt to entice me, or just because it would be 97 degrees Fahrenheit again later.

Right now, the heat wasn’t too bad, here in the shade. Looking at Anna made me hot, however. I mean, she wasn’t even here right now, but she would be back in a minute. Jesus, what were we going to do with the five hours that were at our disposal now? I had just asked myself, when I heard her coming out of the bathroom behind me.

Did Anna have a plan? Well, kind of, as she placed her elegant hands onto my shoulders from behind, close to my neck, before she stroked my hair again. I let my head fall backward to look at her face, during which it bumped into her chest. Looking past her rakish little teen titties, at her face, I asked:

“Like a mouse?”

Anna giggled refreshingly: ”Well, I’ve never touched a mouse, but that’s how I imagine it.”

Now, our pairs of eyes were tracing each other again. And, yes: my hair was unusual. I had been cutting it myself with a beard trimmer for almost 30 years. Now, it was perhaps a-quarter-of-an-inch long, which was an unusual haircut in Vietnam. Most men’s hair was more like an inch-and-a-half long.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” I asked Anna, more or less pro forma.

“Well, Douglas, if the museum isn’t open, similar places won’t be open, either,” she told me quietly, before she pushed her flat hands down on my shirt, toward my chest.

Her left hand got stuck behind the pack of cigarettes in my shirt pocket, though, and I instantly kissed its back. And then, her elegant wrist. Anna smelled – and tasted – of soap. I noticed that she wasn’t wearing that new ring on her index finger but now, she began to gently play with my chest hair, and I felt her chin on the top of my head.

I regretted that I wasn’t able to see her, but that was what made our subtly mesmerizing mating dance so beguiling. It was sophisticated, and we both had the option to retreat at any point, still. As unusual as her approach was, symbolically it was perfect: Knowing that I was married, she was gently knocking on the door, which I could answer. Or not.

Yes, Anna wasn’t flaunting her stunning, sexy body – which she knew I adored – nor flirting openly. It was all innocent and relatively spontaneous, I assumed. Or had Anna forged plans in the bathroom? Or earlier, when she was having breakfast by herself? Either way, she was letting me know that she, also, wanted it.

“Douglas, you could tell me stories from… Micro-whatsit? You know, that island you used to live on,” Anna giggled, after she had removed her chin from my cranium and was standing upright again.

I let my head fall backward once more and rejoiced that she had had such a splendid idea:

“Micronesia,” I told her, which was a sheer inexhaustible topic, since I had lived on Pohnpei for three years and taught classes in the teacher education program at the local college.

“Are you gonna stand behind me for the whole time, though?” I chuckled: “As beautiful as you are, I’d want to look at you for that.”

Of course, Anna stepped around me, until she was standing between my knees again; like the day before. I grabbed her slim wrists, again, and rubbed her forearms with both of my thumbs. We were looking at each other for what felt like an eternity, but I resisted the temptation to cheekily reach under her skirt, although I probably could have, at that point.

But then, today was our very first time. Possibly her very first time, ever. Or was I completely misreading the situation? Perhaps, she did only want me to entertain her with cool and interesting stories from the South Seas. Well, in the end, I reached around her and took her butt cheeks in my hands. With the skirt.

Man, were they tiny. Anna had an impish, roguish smile on her face, but there was nothing explicitly wanton. Just pure, sheer joy and curiosity. As she wasn’t tall, her girlish bosom was right in front of my face, heaving, and an ungovernable lust to embrace her little naked titties with my lips was washing all over me.

I would then tickle her young nipples, which were almost certainly pumping already, with my tongue. Anna had begun to brush my hair with her flat hand again and, when I looked up from her chest, into her hauntingly beautiful face, I saw nothing but zest for life and the joy of anticipation.

“Hey, let’s go inside,” I suggested quietly; partially, since I needed to use the bathroom.

Anna nodded, after I had gotten up, and now we kissed for the first time. Fleetingly, at first, but then a bit longer and stronger. Kinda brief, though. After our mouths had detached themselves from each other again, we were both panting, and I noticed that I was still squeezing her little butt cheeks through the thin fabric of her skirt – between which I would sink my nose in ten minutes.

As we were standing together like that, I took the opportunity to fondle her small boobs, but then Anna grabbed my wrist and pulled me inside. Kinda demandingly. I apologized that I had to disappear briefly, into the bathroom, where I prayed that she would not undress. For some reason, I didn’t want to tell her, though.

Shouldn’t I take off my clothes, however, while I was in the bathroom and then parade toward the bed naked, with my whipping cock? Nonsense, I told myself. We would go slow and enjoy the ride to the utmost, as those precious moments would never return. We would undress together, piece by piece, on the bed. That would be best, wouldn’t it?

When I got back to the room, Anna was sitting on the foot end of the single bed, excited and full of expectation, it seemed. Yeah, she probably was uncomfortable with the idea of lying down – in ‘street clothes’ – on the double bed, in which I obviously had slept the last two nights. The bed, of course, hadn’t been made yet.

This time, I stepped between her knees, but only to gently pull her up on her upper arms. When Anna was standing directly in front of me, we kissed again, before I invited her to just lie down with me on the much wider double bed, whose sheets may still have carried the scent of my skin.

“In street clothes?” she did giggle, without using air quotes, though.

“For now. And then, we’ll slowly undress,” I proposed.

Which seemed the best solution for her, too. The air was crackling, as if charged, like before a thunderstorm. The way she was panting, she looked ready, and I could have thrown myself on top of her at any moment. She almost seemed to be waiting for it. But, of course, I felt that we could do better than that – after so many years of waiting:

“Anna, you have no idea how much this means to me,” I told her, panting and snorting, like a randy animal.

“Douglas, I feel the same,” she answered, when we were finally lying near each other on our sides.

I put a strand of hair behind her large ear and, eventually, she put her head onto my left upper arm, which allowed my right hand to travel freely along her slim torso. Her left hand was on my ribs, where her fingers and thumb were now practicing the piano.

When Anna let herself fall onto her back, my right hand instantly slid under her loose folklore top, with its embroidered flowers. Her little warm belly was heaving in anticipation, and she giggled when my fingers were fondling her bellybutton:

“Oh, Douglas, this is sooo nice,” she sighed, smiled, and closed her eyes.

With my hand under her shirt, I squeezed her little boobs and was surprised how soft her bra was. Nice fabric; elastic, but no lace. Spiffy. Modern. After a few rounds, Anna sat up, however, to take off her top, after which she also opened her bra, without taking it off, though.

“So,” she said, as we had reached the point of no return.

We would completely undress over the next twenty minutes and then have sex. Fuck. Like a woman and a man. Oh, how hot it was that she had only snapped her little bra open but not removed it yet. To reciprocate, I took off my shorts and then unbuttoned my shirt, before I lay down next to her again. Yes, these moments were too precious not to prolong and enjoy them to the utmost.

“But this isn’t your very first time?” I asked Anna.

She grinned almost mischievously and shook her head. She appeared like she wanted to add a bit of detail, but then didn’t. It was probably hard to sift through all the memories of her young sex-life and quickly decide which ones to share. And what information to withhold. For now.

I slid down a bit to be able to kiss her belly button and then marveled at the small landscape of her stunning, heaving, clearly aroused torso. When I pushed the tip of my tongue into her tiny navel, Anna giggled and told me that she never had sex in broad daylight:

“Yeah, and at eight-thirty in the morning is kinda unusual, too, after not having spent the night together.”

Funnily, I thought of the Head of the Communist Party again, who had died the previous Sunday. Did Anna make up that official mourning period, so that we wouldn’t go to the museum but stay here and indulge in each other to celebrate our lust? Perhaps, I would ask her later, but right now clearly wasn’t the moment.

Especially not, since I had just pushed up her loose bra to finally be able to admire her rakish little boobs. Oh, sweet Jesus, were they lovely! Firm and perky, her nipples, which weren’t that small, actually, looked like little cones and were pointing at the ceiling.

They reminded me of the silicone caps of baby feeding bottles; they looked like they had been added to her breasts. Of course, I gently sucked both of them immediately, before I tried to take one of her breasts completely into my mouth. Which almost worked.

Eventually, Anna pulled me away from her firm, perky tits, though, so that we could kiss once more.

“Oo, ooa, ooar,” came a little juicy chorus of excited sighs out of her mouth.

Anna was still lying on her back and, at some point, we both folded her skirt up onto her belly. Looking past her little boobs, Anna decided to take off her skirt, which had only an elastic waistband and thus was easy to remove. When she was lying on her back again, I gently placed my hand onto her mons veneris, which was pretty prominent, as slender as she was.

It decidedly felt like she was wet already, as I was massaging her cute little bulge, which reminded me of half a flower bulb. Or half an onion. I was glad to sense pubic hair underneath the fabric of her beige-and-mauve panties; if willowy, tender Anna had shaved her pussy, she would look like a shop-window mannequin or a doll.

In passing, I took off my underpants, which elicited a long, astonished Oooahh from her. As I wanted to savor this particularly beautiful and intense moment, I slid closer to her on my side, so that my cock was now resting on her hip and pubic mound, only separated by a thin layer of fabric, with my glans directly above her clit. Now, it would be her turn.

Anna hastily shoved a pillow under her neck, so that she would be able to see what she was doing, before she reached for my dick. I, in the meantime, licked my fingers to take care of her baby-bottle titties again. For the whole time, our eyes were tracing each other again, until I swung my ass over her narrow chest, so that she could lick my glans a bit. Maybe.

“Do you blow, sometimes?” I asked her, to which she nodded, without taking my glans between her glorious lips, though.

As I was still wondering why, she began to fondle my balls, which she seemed to weigh, as if she wanted to size them up and compare to the few sets of testicles she was already familiar with. I relented and let her explore what she had never touched nor seen, but then she nodded up at me, like she wanted to go the next step and remove the one final item of clothing that still separated us: her panties.

Yep, Anna appeared hungry. And ready. In a few seconds, I would see and smell, after so many years, her glorious, divine pussy. I could pull her closer to the edge of the bed, kneel on the floor, and then lick her. Profusely.

On a whim, I decided not to pull her panties down all the way at once, though, but just two inches or so. The upper half of her shiny black pubic hair was visible now, but Anna teased me right away:

“You don’t dare to pull them fully down?”

“Of course, I do. But this moment is sooo precious… for how long have I wanted to lie on a bed with you, naked… we can never live through this again,” I defended myself.

“Yes, Douglas. This is precious; you’re right.”

“From now on, you can have all the initiative,” I told her, for some reason; perhaps because of our age gap.

Or, because I used to be her teacher. Who her parents trusted. Or, I simply wanted to relinquish responsibility, since I was married.

“Douglas, don’t hold back. I want everything just as much as you do,” Anna whispered and then nodded, as if she had grown a bit impatient and now wanted to plow ahead.

Well, then. I kneeled over her thighs, and slowly removed her undies, like a magician in the circus. As the soft piece was sliding down her slender young thighs, I noticed some black symbols on her underwear, which reminded me of Egyptian hieroglyphs.

Needless to say, I didn’t have time to look closer, as I was now marveling at her hazelnut-brown outer labia. Anna’s bush kinda ended next to her clit, so her beautifully elongated pussy boat-hull was clearly visible. Oh, sweet Jesus, how well it fitted the rest of her body and her personality.

Her dark inner labia were slightly crinkled, at least the upper part, near the opening of her urethra, while they had already separated further down, so that a small vertical eye, which could have been plugged by an oval piece of candy, was looking at me. Said divine orifice seemed to be filled with translucent nectar, which was ready to lubricate our act.

When I saw excess amounts of Anna’s heavenly fluids rolling down her tiny perineum, I decided against pulling her closer to the edge of the bed and licking her. Anna was ready to receive and hungry for me to plug her little entrance with my purple throbbing knob. And, the way everything looked, this wasn’t our only chance to enjoy sex during my trip.

Well, the big moment had arrived: kinda unexpectedly, already on Thursday morning, before nine o’clock. I placed my torso above hers and then gently lowered it onto my forearms next to my beloved lover’s dazzling face. Well, more like forehead, as she was only 5’4”. At the most.

Yes, we would do it again, at some point, and then I could lick Anna’s pussy and butt crack, until she would scream and squirt. And her little anus thimble. Anna seemed happy that we were getting it on, as she reached for my shaft to place my glans between her wet, sticky inner labia, which were surprisingly dark.

Once my glans was enwrapped, Anna hugged me, before she brushed my back, like a table that had crumbs on it. I started to pump ever so slightly and felt her cool jus on my cock. Anna was pressing her little pelvis upward, urging me to get in further, though, as at the moment, my widest girth was stuck at her bottle neck, so to speak:

“I’m wider inside,” she giggled, but she was right: As soon as I had pressed in some more, her sheath snugly wrapped itself around my shaft, and I got further and further up inside her fairly effortlessly.

Of course, Anna was tight: she was a young Vietnamese woman, who weighed about 90 pounds. At the most. Her waist wasn’t even ten inches wide, while her narrow butt may have measured eleven. But still, she had the most graceful figure of them all, and the most endearing, enthralling face. And personality. And now, we were finally fucking.

After so many years. After a bit of wiggling and wriggling on her part, I felt that my cock was almost completely up her tight young sheath, and we were gathering steam. Anna had used her hand to make adjustments and was still pressing her pelvis upward, but now, my balls were hitting her little butt cheeks rhythmically, and a pretty jubilant fuck ensued, which didn’t seem to cause her any pain.

She was cooing and hollering in little cascades underneath me, while some highlights of our relationship were passing through my mind. I had never entered a woman, though, whose entrance was so tight, but Anna had been right: once my mushroom glans had past that tiny opening, the flesh inside her was flexible enough to easily accommodate my cock.

Just as nature had intended. As slim and tender, as Anna was, I eventually placed my knees outside hers to squeeze the whole arrangement. She appeared surprised, at first; perhaps, as no one had ever done to her, but she definitely seemed to like it. Yes, she decidedly looked like she had intended to twirl our loins, during my four days in Saigon.

“Oooah, oooar, this is sooo nice,” she kept whimpering directly under my chest hair, with her eyes almost closed, while I kept thrusting languidly to prolong our pleasure.

“You can do it faster if you want,” she requested at some point, though, as if she was just freaking horny: “We can do it more slowly later today. Or tonight,” she giggled greedily.

“Or, tomorrow morning,” I added.

“Or tomorrow night,” she chuckled.

“And Saturday morning, again,” we said in unison.

After I had banged her harder for perhaps three minutes, my cock had completely disappeared inside her. I briefly stopped, before the copious discharge, and laughed:

“You are not exactly shy, are you?”

“Douglas, your thing has been inside me for twenty minutes and now, you want me to be shy?” she asked rhetorically: “I was already wet when I knocked on your door this morning. I’m still glad I had a Kotex pad in my panties,” she giggled impishly.

Almost diabolically. Right at that moment, I had the feeling, for the first time, that we would party pretty hard, as long as I was here. But Anna didn’t seem wanton, starved, or overly savvy; just sassy, hungry for life and adventure. We had a chance to experience new heights of arousal and satisfaction, which – Anna would have urged us – to take.

Yes, Jesus, we couldn’t repeat what we were doing here in our small town, but perhaps we shouldn’t see each other there, anyway. Since I knew her period had just ended, I didn’t even ask if it would be okay to come inside her. Of course, it was. Anything else would have left us deeply unsatisfied, forever.

And so, I propped my upper body onto my outstretched arms and then hollered at the ceiling, as I was lavishing myself inside her. Oooaarrhh! In my mind’s eye, I saw her tiny mauve cervix twitching, as it was being doused with a copious load of sticky whitish elixir.

Eventually, I lay down on her to decompress together, completely unconcerned that my weight may crush her. Anna had filled the room with a crescendo of neighing and whickering and, if I wasn’t completely mistaken, she had actually squirted onto my ball sack and legs.

Yeah, they were soaking wet. At some point, we turned together onto our sides, with my cock still entrapped inside her. No, she was no nymphet or Lolita, who wanted to wrap me around her little finger; that wasn’t what this all was about. After we had turned once more, and she was now lying on top of me, I was holding 90 pounds of beauty and allure, heaving, breathing, and possibly still squirting a bit.

And I felt oceanic bliss and rapture. Eventually, my noodle got smaller and slipped out of Anna, although she was wonderfully tight. Yeah, luckily, my cock wasn’t overly large, just average, plus. Which was plenty for the slender, willowy young lady. Who I loved so dearly.

Of course, she stroked my hair again, before she said:

“C’mon, Douglas, let’s make a pact: We’ll do it as often as we can, as long as you’re in Saigon.”

Wow. I didn’t even know what to say, at first.

“In all kinds of positions?”

“Sure.”

“And some crazy things as well?”

Instead of an answer, she slid upward and fed me her little titty again. Holding it hostage in my mouth, I flickered over her nipple, which still seemed stiff. I believed she even squirted once more, but then she leaned back. Marveling at the little fruits, I noticed how firm her breasts were; they weren’t dangling in the slightest, as young and slim as she was.

“Sure,” she eventually replied to my suggestion to do some crazy things as well, but I liked that she didn’t ask what exactly that could or would be.

We surely would find out. I liked it better, anyway, if we didn’t discuss sensual matters, beforehand. There was no need; especially not, after what we had just done together. To cap everything off, I took her boob into my mouth yet another time, as it just fit perfectly.

I noticed that I hadn’t seen or licked her butt yet but, at least, I was holding those two small cheeks in my hands. Anna was swinging and swaying her pelvis, as if she wanted to do it again right away but, alas, we knew that that wasn’t possible. Eventually, she just lay down on my side and told me that she was hungry again:

“Yeah, sex increases your appetite. And we haven’t eaten together yet,” I laughed.

“But fucked already,” she cracked up.

Jesus, where was that gonna end?!e…