I’m Going to Marry a French Girl Who Is a Sex Monster

Chapter 1: The Encounter

“Hey, you don’t have a girlfriend you’re dating right now, right?” my dad asked me during dinner.

“…What’s with that all of a sudden? No, I don’t…”

“I see. Do you have a girl you like?”

“…No, I don’t.”

“Good, that makes things convenient. Actually, about three years ago, I made a French friend. He’s a billionaire in France, but he loves Japan a lot. It’s been decided that he’ll come to Japan next month.”

What kind of conversation flow is this?

“…Oh really?”

“Yeah. And so, in a drunken state, I promised him something.”

“Something?”

“Yeah. A promise to marry his daughter to you.”

“…Huh?”

And so, suddenly, I had a fiancée.

Of course, this was the first I’d heard of it, and I could only be bewildered.

“…No way, what’s that? I’ve never even met her, and it’s troubling to be told this out of the blue.”

“…I guess so. Well, for now, just meet her. She’s waiting here alone,” he said, handing me what looked like an invitation from his bag.

It was an invitation to a dinner party at a famous hotel a few days later.

“…Seriously?”

“Seriously. They’re billionaires over there.”

◆ A few days later

I came home straight after school to change into a suit.

By the way, my dad and his friend met through work and hit it off so well that they became instant best friends.

Talking about their kids, both being single fathers, the conversation escalated, and before they knew it, they were discussing marriage, with the venue already booked…

To progress such talks without discussing it with those involved…

Besides, she probably doesn’t even know me, so I’ll quickly refuse and leave.

I mean, I don’t even know what she looks like.

What if she’s really ugly…

Not that I’m ugly, but looks are important.

Thinking about this, I started to prepare.

Putting on an unfamiliar suit, setting my hair, and leaving home while watching videos on dining etiquette.

Using the bus and subway, I arrived just in time because it coincided with the rush hour.

Entering the hotel, I handed my ticket to the receptionist.

“We’ve been waiting for you, Mr. Amatsuka. Please come this way.”

In the center of a large party venue that could hold nearly 100 people, there was only one sofa, and at the back, an orchestra of about 30 people was playing.

They booked the whole place… as expected of a billionaire.

Then, the one woman sitting there waved at me with a smile as soon as she saw me.

She was extraordinarily cute and elegant, the most beautiful person I had ever seen in my life.

Her beautiful white hair and the aura of sophistication she exuded, combined with her mature charm, made her stunningly beautiful.

Seriously… She’s really cute. My tension rose as I was led to my seat.

“Nice to meet you, Momiji Amatsuka. Please, have a seat.”

“N-nice to meet you…”

After sitting down, the waiter left, making me feel a bit lonely.

Such a beautiful girl, and she seems to be from abroad.

I didn’t know what to talk about.

Sensing the atmosphere, she said, “Well then… shall we move forward with various discussions? But first, ‘wait a moment!'” she interjected.

Many things had accumulated, making me almost accept, but the reason I came here was one.

That is… to refuse.

Indeed, many things were overwhelming, but marriage out of the blue was skipping too many steps.

Well, if it were about dating, I could understand to some extent…

And she herself might not be in favor, perhaps just following her father’s orders…

Thinking this, I asked her.

“…Excuse me… aren’t you against this marriage?”

“I forgot to introduce myself. I am Erna Isaac. I am in favor of the marriage. Of course, this is the first time we’ve met, but I’ve heard a lot about you from my father. With that in mind, I want to marry you.”

S-seriously!? Is that possible!?

Meaning, she likes me…

I swallowed hard.

Swept up by the atmosphere, we started talking about various things.

The wedding date, future school life, college plans, our future…

Apparently, she’s one year older than me, currently an 18-year-old high school senior.

She was born and raised in France, and she learned Japanese three years ago at her father’s suggestion.

From her fluent speech like a 20-year veteran, it was clear she was special.

After we had settled down somewhat, she started the final negotiation.

“Well then, finally… how many times a week should we aim for sex?”

“…Eh?”

“I personally prefer the more the better, but would five times be a good start?”