Long Vo-Phuoc
Writer. Retired Fund Manager.
Articles & Works of Fiction. © All rights reserved.
Sophie
A risque novel
Long Vo-Phuoc © All rights reserved
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Risque Conversation at Lunch
(The Present)
Old friends catch up for lunch at a nice restaurant in a quiet suburb. Modern Australian cuisine, East and West influenced (not an easy combination but the place tries). Corner table. Two very good-looking women, forty-three both. Not simply beautiful but also sexy and alluring. Possessing, too, the finest of minds.
- Somehow we have never done this before, even though Stef is close to you as I have been to her.
- I always think lunch with you would be nice but tricky.
- Risqué?
- That, if you like. We can do more of this once Stef’s back from France.
- Funny that she still works overseas. I would have thought that would be you.
- I thought about it for Cambridge, but decided to bring Brian up in Sydney.
- Understand. But you are the one who can do anything, anywhere, anytime, now or in future. Apart of your physical appeal, very basic of me I know, that’s another thing that makes me love you.
- Love?
- Of course it’s love, don’t you know?
- You love Michael, more like it.
- I love Michael and I love you. Exactly like Stef does.
- Oh dear, this becomes a tricky conversation.
- Doesn’t it Sophie dear. But you should know, everyone loves you, Myrtle especially. How is she?
- Caught up with her a few weeks ago, she is wonderful. She said hi to all the friends in Sydney.
- Mentioned me?
- Yes.
- Maybe I should go to Tokyo to visit her.
- Happy to give you phone and email.
- But only if I go with you
- Ah.
- Is she still madly in love with you?
- I believe so, but I’ll have no further comment on the subject.
- If the extremely delightful Sophie pronounces that who am I to argue?
- Quite so, let’s talk about you.
- I’m publishing a poetry collection, the first since Michael passed away.
- You still miss him that much?
- Certainly not as much as you do but probably as much as Stef, or only a little behind.
- We all miss him.
- That’s why I dedicate my new book to all of us, Michael, you, Stef and myself – to when we were twenty.
- When we thought we would last forever until reality intervenes. For the records I miss David too, but of course David was connected only with Michael and me.
- That’s true, but I always feel for you darling, for your losses.
- Thank you Bec.
- You know Sophie … you know … one of my two greatest wishes since a teenager was …
- Was what, pray?
- Was, and is, squashing my boobs on yours.
- … Good heavens Rebecca, I … don’t know what to say …
- That’s my declaration of love, today above all else because you wear this sleeveless black silk blouse like no one in the world can …
- Black or white blouse I am speechless …
- Since I always have thick skin, I could only suggest that we start by you letting me peel the shirt away, but you are Sophie, that could never work …
- You are a hardened poetess as you can be … but your lines do have melodies, feels …
- Your saying things like that no wonder I love you, turns me on dizzily with love, physical and spiritual and all …
- Maybe the four of us can have a reunion
- You mean Myrtle and Stef and us
- Yes
- That’s a wonderful thought, Myrtle was hard on me in the past, but I always like her
- Myrtle is a poet like you, she has her nuances
- Wonderful, where?
- Tokyo, or maybe Berlin, picnic on the royal Sanssouci ...
- Where we can all frolic about without clothes on, like that midsummer night of my old friend Will
- The absurd Rebecca still has plenty of charm, no wonder Michael loved you in his own fashion
- In addition to one or two really delectable ladies, but never mind, autumn or winter for the romp?
- Let’s all die properly, so it must be autumn.
- Darling Sophie, you know this salad now suddenly becomes tasteless, the Bollinger turns vinegar, let’s go back to your place and let me peel your shirt your trouser away so I can eat you up well and proper.
- Don’t be outrageous, all good things take time.
- Oh Sophie, is that a promise to this humble wordsmith?
- Just an old saying from this humble mathematician to a dear outlandish friend.
Long Vo-Phuoc - April 2026
(from the novel "Sophie")
Encounter With The Vamp
(The Past)
Michael has been in Sydney Uni for two months in May. He enjoys the scholarly scenery and the surrounds, his campus room, new friends – boys and girls. Some of the girls are quite attractive, and one or two say they like to know him better. But he takes things slowly, and Stephanie visits him from Macquarie every week or two, sandwiching with him going there, so those girls take thing easy as well. The atmosphere is one of relaxed feelings, everyone seventeen eighteen, give or take.
One day someone calls from behind. He turns, and it is Rebecca.
He has known that Rebecca is at the same place as he, doing Art even though she could have had a go at many others including the technical courses. They exchanged info at the School Ball – he remembers that she was one of the stars there, the boys umhed and ahed about her (Stef a star too!). And Stef always encourages him to keep in touch with her. But somehow he hasn’t, for many reasons. Not because Rebecca was not to his liking, far from it. She is a little feisty, quite forward, artistic, relaxed, taking things lightly, and generous. Everything that he likes. And yet there is a reason to counter all that.
And now she called him from a metre or two behind. She is smiling broadly, eyes sparkling. Her hands folded on her chest, watching him. Waiting for him. Small stylish backpack at back.
She teases:
-
Hello stranger – or rather hello MIA
-
Hello Rebecca, great to see you.
He comes over. She proffers her cheek, He pecks her. And she turns and pecks him back, making a smack sound. Then she hugs him, laughing:
-
You’ve been avoiding me, despite my SMS last month
-
I did reply ...
-
Yeah ... saying you’re tied up and to come back to me, but didn’t
-
Ah sorry Rebecca, so sorry
-
How many classes you have right now, two or three?
This is a challenge. He was thinking of an excuse but she’s pre-empted it. What can he do?
-
Oh nothing at the moment
-
Nothing for a few minutes?
-
Free from now on today Rebecca.
It is three o’clock. She slaps playfully on his cheek, said I don’t have money for a cuppa or a beer, you buy me one?
-
Sure sure, let’s go to the union café.
-
Ah that’s my friend Michael, generous to a poor girl as always.
And with that, she pulls his hand along to the place only twenty metres away. He laughs, walks along her. Near the café entrance she puts her arm around his waist, says, just like old friends, Stef would approve. He laughs - what can he do?
They ordered the coffee at the counter. He paid with cash then they went to their table to wait for the coffee. She picks a table near the glass wall overlooking the pool. A boy walks by, says hello Rebecca. She waves, but pays no further attention. Guys look at her. Of course.
-
How’s your new life here, Rebecca asks.
-
Fun! Lots of new friends, study is good, I really like …
-
Maths?
-
(laughs) maths and physics but I read too
-
Interesting … what?
-
A translation of Garcia Marquez
-
Ah, the Columbian guy, interesting … bought it recently?
-
Borrowed from my sister.
-
Ah Madame Marie Curie, madame very very beautiful Curie, how is the most beautiful girl in the world?
-
(his heart aches a little) She is fine in NSW, doing well, one day she’ll do research I think
-
She can do anything she likes, that girl, and your Madame Sweetheart?
-
As well as your Mr Darling.
-
(laughing happily) I wish he is such a darling but he’s well, working and studying well. That boy likes to make money in a hurry.
Ralph is working as an accounting clerk at Price Waterhouse, studying parttime for business and accountancy.
-
But this coffee break is about you Rebecca. How is your Lit course …
-
Ah, kind that you ask, people just don’t study art any more unless they are losers and lazy
-
You’re not either.
-
What, you remember from all of three months ago, you are such an MIA!
With that she stretches her arm out, patting him on the cheek. The movement strains her loose blouse a little, but that is enough to show clearly her very full very firm breasts under the fine thin white cotton - the bra must be bare on top, because the white flesh shows beneath the cotton. The effect was electric, and Michael forces himself to move his eyes back to her face. It was only a quick glance, yet she must have noticed. He didn’t mean to look, but the shift of view was sudden and arresting.
-
Ah … I’m sorry Rebecca
-
Nothing to worry, and don’t be embarrassed out of a sudden. It’s only me, a simple friend for such a long time
-
Yes, well, here we are catching up again, how is your course again?
-
Ah rude of me not to reply sooner. Well, typical first year, old fashioned English lit, just like Year 12 and 11 again, more long-winded though. But another subject is drama, Shakespeare with maybe some practical in acting.
-
Exciting …
-
Isn’t it, hmmm. Also having German lit 18th century, Goethe and all, in English naturally. And East Asia – very general China, Japan, Korea, Vietnam
-
That’s more to your liking?
-
Yes, the Germans and the Asians.
-
Do you write too?
Her eyes sparkle, looking at him intently.
-
Rarely anyone asks me that, maybe one or two of my girl classmates. And yes, I do. But first, do you still write poetry?
-
Well now and again …
-
For whom?
-
Well … for no one (his heart aches again, because he writes poems only for one person)
-
About what and whom …
-
Well nothing particular … fairy tales and goddesses may be (aching heart!)
-
You’re both lying and telling truths.
Michael smiles, says nothing. Suddenly he feels more relaxed, and less wary of Rebecca.
-
And what do you write?
-
A novel about a medieval time in Asia
-
Why? An unusual choice.
-
Because I read about Champa history, part of the Asia course, and fascinated with an episode in the country’s history.
-
Would be fun to read it.
-
You’ll be one of the first, maybe the first
Suddenly he becomes wary again.
-
I see
-
And I’m also writing a sex story
-
What, sex story?
-
Yes … why are you surprised?
-
It’s such a … a change of event … a change in the train of thoughts.
-
It might reflect real life more than you would normally think. You might enjoy it one day
-
One day?
-
One day, sure. And why you look so wary of me again?
-
Do I … why … I’m not wary of you. I always think well of you.
-
True, but you’re always wary of me
-
Why?
She smiles, and he knows he’s in trouble, he’s falling into a trap set by his single utterance, “Why”.
She smiles, and he knows he’s in trouble, he’s falling into a trap set by his single utterance, “Why”.
-
Let me tell you why you’re wary of me. In a nutshell, because you think I might eat you up. One bite from me and you’re gone.
-
Rebecca …
-
Isn’t it so, for six years in High School, and since we’re at the Primary. You and I, we’ve known each other longer than any other friend around us.
-
…
-
We always like each other, maybe more so from me than from you.
-
Rebecca, let’s not worry …
-
Well since you’re here with me, let me finish that, I’ll be quick, OK.
-
Sure …
-
We’re friend, but I grew up as a girl faster than you as a boy. You’re reserved, like Madame Lovely Sophie your sister. I’m forward, you’re not ready so when Ralph and I became close three four years ago you became detached, and more since Stef and you became an item, but you always, always …
-
Rebecca …
-
Always think I might bite you if you’re not careful, and you don’t know what to do about that thought.
Silence. She looks at him keenly, her smile a little challenging, mostly teasing. He knows he’s in trouble, and the more he struggles the more he would fall deeper into the trap.
Then she continues:
-
The obvious thing for anyone but you, looking at this, is this, what do I think of your thoughts?
Michael closes his eyes. This confrontation, if anyone calls it that, is becoming complete, and he shall be on the losing side. He is becoming very dead.
-
You do look cute when you’re in trouble and have to close your eyes. But back to this, do you know since when that I’m more curious about how to reply to your thoughts?
-
No Rebecca, but you don’t have to worry …
-
Well I do, worry about the answer to that question I mean. I’m more curious since Stef told me things. I’m her closest girl friend at school since she came to our school a few years back …
-
I know Rebecca but …
-
And she told me not so long ago that (lowering her voice a little) you’re such a powerhouse in bed.
He looks at her, speechless. His defeat is complete. She continues:
-
You can shake her up even by a tiniest touch.
-
…
-
You last forever and you’re so huge!
She laughs quietly, eyes sparkle. He remembers such sparkling eyes from Stef and, his heart aches like crazy, from Sophie. He looks at her, helpless.
-
Incredible. She said you were a newbie in your words yet you’re so innovative so considerate. Wow …
-
…
-
And she wasn’t a snitch on you at all, never Stef. She said she was going to tell you what she and I talked about
-
… Really Rebecca … really … we shouldn’t talk like this.
She smiles at him, and he knows he’s at her mercy.
-
You know Michael, you know if you think I’m a vamp to you, then a vamp I am to you.
He’s dead. Very dead.
She is still smiling. Then she reaches over, squeezing his hand on the table. Her hand is warm, dry, soft. She is amazingly attractive, even her hands are, even if people always readily notice other parts of her.
She takes her hand back, slowly.
-
I’m not such a vamp Michael, maybe except to you. I’ve had sex with only three boys including Ralph, not during the same time of course, maybe only half-sex with one of those, a rather nasty boy. And I’m with Ralph solely the last two years.
-
… I … That’s not for me to ask Rebecca
-
But a vamp to you yes, since long ago, you forever MIA
-
I’m not Missing in Action to you.
-
Of course you are. And now you think you’re even more justified being so.
-
… I … I don’t know what to say. We do different things, but you’re always a good friend of mine, of Stef.
She looks at him even more intensely, breathes in slow and deep, as if making a decision in her mind, then says, in a low careful but deliberate voice:
-
You know Michael if you and I don’t have sex then there is no guilt on your part or mine, no guilt to Stef or Ralph or to anyone, we just don’t have sex unless we ever both insist it, OK?
He doesn’t know what she gets up to with this turn of talk, he’s not sure that he would trust her to be simple. He says, hesitantly:
-
Of course Becky, that we won’t do, even as you’re immensely attractive.
-
Ah you’re such a polite gentleman, never hurt a girl’s offering, and well what is sex anyway?
She asked not in a rhetorical way, she asked that seriously the way she looks at him (or pretends, in her fashion?). He hesitates:
-
Well … what about sex?
-
I define sex in the most basic form, never mind this modern age, never mind that I’m a bit of a feminist like all women should be. Sex is, in this friendly discussion between two old friends, (very low voice now) sex is penetrative intercourse with the boy ends up ejaculating into the girl’s womb.
He realises he’s dead again, deeply dead. He is deep in the abyss.
-
Rebecca …
-
So if we have sex with each other, which we don’t unless we both want to et cetera, you would come in my womb. If you don’t do that then we don’t have sex at all, no guilt to anyone, fair enough?
-
…. (speechless speechless)
-
(very low voice again, eyes very sparkling, reminding him so much of a god, a goddess) So even if you move in and out of me, long and short, repeatedly, slowly but fast if you like, however that happens, if you pull out before you come, then that’s not sex. Not sex at all. Everybody is innocent.
She smiles deliciously (always delicious-looking!), devilishly, incredibly sexy. He looks at her for seconds. Then closes his eyes. Shakes his head. A total surrender.
She says, gently:
-
It’s getting dark. Would you like to go to my flat and I make a simple meal for you? Quick and simple. You’ve never been there, and I’ve been waiting to do that for quite a while.
-
… Sure Becky, sure … can I buy anything with you in the supermarket first?
-
… No Michael everything is there. Let’s go. I can’t wait to make a meal for you.
Smiling very mischievously. And beautifully. Her white even teeth show, her narrow refined nose, her high cheek bones, her high neck, her very provocative breasts under the bunched-up cotton of the blouse.
She’s always beautiful since early High School. By the time she was sixteen seventeen everything about her was magnificent, and has stayed that way. A classic beauty, a little above average height, slender but well-proportioned in her shoulders, arms legs, hips, behind. Barring Sophie (no one in the world would come close to Sophie) she’s the best looking young woman at school, in the wider suburbs, and one of the most at the uni, from what he could see. And very learned in the literary sense, incredibly artistic.
Outside the Union café, she pulls him to her, says with both her mouth and her eyes, I’m thrilled, are you? He replied, immediately, yes I am.
.......
Long Vo-Phuoc - 2023-26
(from the novel "Sophie")