On a rainy day

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On a rainy night, I was the only one in the dance studio. I deliberately chose this time to come, to have my own space. The charm of practicing dance is that no matter how bad your mood is, you can repeat a movement countless times, straighten your arms a little more, extend the power to your fingertips, follow your hands with your eyes, and maintain balance while turning. You can practice a movement five times by yourself, and finally, you'll be slightly sweaty, feeling comfortable and wonderful. It's best to take a selfie and send it to the guy you miss. He asked if we could meet, and I said yes, at our usual place at ten o'clock
. Thinking that I was about to see him, I practiced until ten o'clock and went down to the building entrance. After turning the corner, I saw him standing there with an umbrella. He asked me to fold my umbrella and hold one for myself. I felt a little awkward and didn't know where to put my hands. He said I wanted to hold his hand and asked what I wanted to eat. I said I didn't want to eat anything. Then he asked if I wanted to go to his place or mine. I was instantly confused. I said I didn't want to go to his place because as soon as I walked in, he would always be eager to do bedroom exercises.

When we arrived at my house, I told him he could go back now, but he coldly replied, "How could I?" Out of habit, I rushed into the kitchen and made him a cup of tea, hoping this would help him regain his senses and recognize who the host and guest were in this house. I cooked millet porridge, peeled some red dates, and added some washed raisins. Soon, the aroma of the porridge filled the room. The room was dimly lit, with a small folding table on either side, a futon separating us. He said he liked being here with me, that it made him feel very relaxed. The porridge was ready, and we each served ourselves a bowl. I actually preferred this moment; it felt like feeding the man I loved. After we finished the porridge, I washed the dishes. He couldn't resist hugging me from behind, but I ignored him completely. Finally, after I put the bowls down, he pulled me into the bedroom. I resisted, insisting on taking a shower, so we had to stop. I slowly and nervously showered, wearing a shower cap, wondering what would happen next. The bathroom door opened, and he came in completely naked, saying he wanted to help me wash. Sometimes my slow reaction time was a challenge for him. I was at a loss. He grabbed the showerhead and rinsed me off, then applied shower gel. When I was almost done, he asked me to help him apply it. As he did, he pressed my shoulders down, trying to get me to give him oral sex. I felt disgusted. I didn't like it, so I ignored him and turned around. He pressed me against the wall and entered me hard from behind. I always felt unprepared, but gradually I started to enjoy it. He kissed my neck, and the warm water from the flower wine sprayed on us. Maybe this is what it feels like to be in love. After this round, we rinsed and dried off. He carried me, who was naked, to the bed and we lay there for a while. I saw that he was lying there quietly, so I started to tease him in a retaliatory way. I pressed my chest against his and rubbed it slightly. My hands wandered over his body, but he still ignored me. I stroked around his private parts, but he still didn't seem to react. I gave up and stopped moving. Suddenly, he grabbed my hand and pulled it there. It was so hard. I gently stroked it with my hand. After a while, he suddenly rolled over and pinned me down, then asked me to give him oral sex. I couldn't refuse. I was already hard, so I had to satisfy him. After the shower, I wouldn't feel disgusted, especially with his handsome penis. This time, perhaps in a safe environment, I began to relax, engaging in various positions of penetration, feeling both pampered and ravaged. My breasts were rhythmically squeezed and kneaded by him, occasionally I was commanded to stick out my tongue and kiss him, while he thrust and filled me down below, attacking me in increasingly varied ways. Finally, his sticky fluid sprayed onto me again, carrying a fresh, fishy smell. I lay flat on the bed, beginning to calm down. The dim light from outside the window shone in, and the patter of rain filled the air. He asked me how I felt, but I didn't answer. He said this was important for a man, as if his efforts needed praise. I told him I was thinking of the movie Lust, Caution…

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On a rainy day

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