Her husband was hidden in the closet (reprinted)

page views:1 Publication date:2021-09-11

That night, I went to Xiaolu's house as usual.

Xiaolu was a 26-year-old woman. We had known each other for three years, but back then I was just an office worker. Of course, I'm still just an office worker now. As an office worker, the various loans I would have to take out to get married are too much for me. There was nothing I could do but watch her marry someone else. Once

a woman gets married, she naturally has less contact with me, especially since our relationship was...

I never expected that three years later, Xiaolu and I would meet again.

It was during a casual chat online that I sensed dissatisfaction in her tone, so I boldly asked her some questions.

"How's life as a wife? Are you a mother yet?"

"No."

I didn't know if she meant she wasn't a mother yet, or that her life wasn't going well. But I didn't dare to delve any deeper, because the more I overthought things, the more uneasy I felt, and I felt a sense of self-blame. I blamed myself for not being good enough.

Later, we didn't speak online for a while, and then Xiaolu took the initiative to chat with me again.

I finally learned that she not only wasn't a mother yet, but her life was also very unhappy. At first, I thought she was having financial problems, but it turned out she wasn't; she was just very upset. So I boldly asked some deeper questions, like, "How are you and your husband doing?

" Xiaolu said, "It's good, but something's always missing."

I jokingly asked, "What's missing? You haven't gotten used to sleeping together, have you? Haha."

Xiaolu didn't reply for a long time before finally saying, "We haven't seen each other in a long time

, have we?" I naturally replied, "It has been quite a long time, about three years!"

...

And so we met again. She invited me to her house for tea and a chat. I thought that since I was at her house, openly and honestly, there shouldn't be any misunderstandings. Despite my various wild thoughts, I calmly held the teacup she offered and slowly sipped it.

Xiaolu was different from three years ago; her eyes held a more alluring womanhood, clearly nourished by love and marriage. But there was also a layer of helplessness, with occasional flashes of melancholy.

That time, we talked about topics from three years ago, mostly jokes, and had a very pleasant conversation. But I sensed she wasn't happy; she was just smiling along with me.

It seems married women, even at only twenty-six, develop a certain cunning.

And I, a single man, was clearly more prone to overthinking. My gaze would often drift away, only to steal a glance at her chest. Luckily, we avoided eye contact, or it would have been incredibly awkward.

Over the next two weeks, I visited her house several more times, fixing her computer only to find the plug wasn't properly inserted, installing software only to discover she didn't even know what she wanted, bringing her snacks only to find she no longer liked them…

I gradually realized these were just excuses, because I never saw her husband during my visits.

This was crucial, whether during work hours or at night. One time, I sat until after ten, realizing it was very late, but I still hadn't seen her husband—it was strange. Although she said her husband often worked overtime and had a tough job, I still felt something was off. Until last weekend, I thought, "Surely I don't have to work on weekends!" Indeed, it was true. It was just that I didn't have to work, so Xiaolu said, "Since you don't have to work, let me treat you to some drinks and let you try my cooking. See if it's any different from three years ago."

It was already past nine o'clock, and if we had a few more drinks, it would have been late. But I couldn't refuse her hospitality, and since I hadn't seen her husband for several days, I felt a strange sense of security, which made me even more eager to know what would happen next. Even if I was just imagining things, at least I had a woman I could imagine...

"Try it." Xiaolu put a piece of food in my mouth and poured me some wine.

This scene was just like three years ago. I felt a small happiness, as if this house was mine, as if I was the one who took out the loan, as if I had bought all the furniture... My God! Why didn't I work harder three years ago, earn more money, and simply take on all these debts? Then I could have such a beautiful and virtuous woman. I never expected that Xiaolu would become more and more sexy and alluring three years later.

Sorry, I think I might have drunk too much.

After all, drinking alone with a sexy woman, especially in her home, with my husband not around, and considering our past flirtatious relationship, it was impossible for someone as drunk as me to have all sorts of wild thoughts. I felt she was seducing me, no, I was sure she was.

I asked her, "Are you seducing me?"

The words had barely left my mouth when I realized I was drunk, thankfully not quite. So I made an excuse to leave.

Xiaolu didn't answer, nor did she stop me. Of course, why would she stop me? It was just my imagination…

When I reached the door, I realized I'd forgotten to change my shoes… Yes, these were Xiaolu's slippers. I quickly opened the door, and there stood Xiaolu in front of me. Our eyes met.

Xiaolu breathed softly, "Forgot something?"

I snapped out of my daze, "Uh, my shoes, I forgot to change them."

Xiaolu asked, "Should you change them?"

I found it strange. Of course I should change them, what was the point of coming back? But she didn't move aside; she remained standing in the doorway, right in front of me. I chuckled and placed my hand on her shoulder, intending to push her aside, but unexpectedly she sat down on the floor.

No way! I only gave her a gentle push, without any malice, and it was quite a fake.

Xiaolu looked at me with a complaining gaze, sitting on the floor as if I had pushed her.

My first reaction was to check if anyone was outside, otherwise, if someone thought I was abusing a woman, I'd be in big trouble. I saw the neighbor's door was half-open; seeing me looking, she immediately closed it again. I thought, "Oh no, will the neighbor tell her husband?"

Xiaolu was waiting for me to help her up, so I quickly closed the door and went to help her.

As I helped her up, I ended up hugging her.

I felt her chest rising and falling, though it could also be because my chest was rising and falling too much.

Oh no, the window wasn't closed yet. I hurriedly put her back on the floor and ran to close the window.

But then I thought, why would I close the window? I glanced back; Xiaolu was pouting.

I hastily drew the curtains halfway shut, then rushed back. The alcohol in my head emboldened me, and I simply scooped her up from her thighs to her shoulders, pushed open her bedroom door, and tossed her onto the bed.

Yes, I threw her. I don't know why I threw her; maybe I was too anxious, or maybe I thought it would make her happier.

Xiaolu, thrown onto the bed, actually laughed.

This was the first time in the past two weeks that I'd seen her truly laugh, even though it wasn't innocent, not pure, even a little wicked, but I still felt a great sense of accomplishment. I had finally made her truly laugh, and in this way, in this environment, and in this atmosphere. Xiaolu's legs were half-exposed, but she didn't cover them up, just lying there on the bed, as if waiting for me, wasn't she?

Since that was the case, I didn't hold back. I tugged at my collar, as if implying, "Is it okay?"

As expected, Xiaolu looked away but didn't shake her head, clearly acquiescing.

I closed the door with my heel; this was my final greeting. If she still didn't react, then I decided to make my move.

And then… of course, I did. That night ended my three years of masturbation and resolved my regret from three years ago. However, it also left me with a layer of guilt. Had I broken up someone else's family?

Thus, it began, and so did the subsequent events…

From then on, I went to Xiaolu's house every few days. Tonight, as usual, I closed the door as soon as I entered, but this time I didn't drink tea or alcohol. I went straight into her room, touched her, kissed her, and was embraced by her. As usual, Xiaolu helped me take off my shirt and unbuckle my belt. We intertwined passionately, our tongues entwined in a continuous kiss. I sucked hard on her genitals, feeling the wet emptiness, her erect nipples, her breath mingled with moans—all of this urged me to enter her as soon as possible.

I forcefully flipped Xiaolu over and thrust into her from behind—or rather, slid in, because it was so wet and empty that it didn't take much effort. Her insides were warm and crowded. I didn't know why they were so crowded; perhaps her sex life was unsatisfactory…which was why I came into this world.

Suddenly, Xiaolu flipped back, clinging to me like an octopus, her legs clamping around my rear, pulling me inside. My breathing became increasingly rapid, but I became even more aware that Xiaolu's eyes still held a hint of helplessness. What was she feeling helpless about at this moment? Had I done something wrong? Was it all my doing, all my overthinking, all my fault?

No.

I dared not think any further, because thinking further might lead me to her husband, and that terrified me.

Because I had become an adulterer!

I instinctively looked around, afraid her husband might suddenly come home.

I could almost hear the hum of the air conditioner and the faint sound of the computer in the room. It all sounded like her husband knocking on the door. I was terrified, absolutely terrified. I quickly pulled away from her and grabbed my clothes to put them on.

Xiaolu complained, "What's wrong?"

What's wrong with me? I didn't know what was wrong with me either. This wasn't the first time, but I was even more afraid than the first time.

Finally, I pushed open the door because I decided to leave; I would break down if this continued.

When I looked back at Xiaolu, her eyes looked even more sorrowful… I thought she would be happy, at least in this moment, experiencing the pleasure and the guilt of sex. But she wasn't, not at all. All I felt was my inner struggle.

What was I struggling with? My hands were trembling, my heart was filled with fear, but I ultimately didn't leave Xiaolu's house. I gritted my teeth, turned off the lights, and decided it was better to see nothing. Even if her husband came back, beat me, called the police, or whatever, it takes two to tango; it can't all be blamed on me!

Okay! I didn't put on any clothes or pants; I rushed naked onto the bed and hugged Xiaolu, who was also naked, tightly. Because of our separation three years ago, because of this temporary separation, we held each other even tighter. I knelt on the bed and thrust my body into hers forcefully…

“Creak—”

“Wh…what’s that sound?”

I suddenly stopped and asked, but I didn’t get a response from Xiaolu. I tried to turn on the light, but she wouldn’t let me, gesturing for me to continue.

But after that strange sound, I felt something was different. I kept thrusting into her body, thrusting and thrusting, without stopping, without changing positions, and I forgot to kiss her. I felt there was someone else in the room. That “someone else” might be my own imagination, or it might be myself. Yes, I was alone in this house; I was someone else.

Then, I heard a “slurping” sound.

I tried to stop and listen carefully. I asked, “Xiaolu, what are you eating?”

Xiaolu seemed to be covering her mouth as she answered, “Continue, hurry up…”

How could I dare to continue? I felt like someone was spying on me, so I jumped out of bed and turned on the light.

At that moment, I saw the most astonishing scene.

Xiaolu had a penis in her mouth, and the man sitting next to her wasn't me, but a stranger who looked familiar. My gaze shifted to the photo on the bedside table, and there it was—the man in the photo—her husband. I glanced at the wardrobe on the other side; it was open. I seemed to understand something.

Xiaolu and that man were also looking at me, looking so naturally, without the slightest surprise.

I froze for a moment, then turned off the light. I thought everything I had just seen was a hallucination. Yes, a hallucination. I continued thrusting into Xiaolu, continuing to hear the "slurping" sounds. When I excitedly ejaculated, Xiaolu immediately crawled over gently to take it into her mouth, while her genitals were being thrust into by another man. No, it should be said that she was taking another man's mouth into her mouth, while her genitals were being thrust into by her own man. Clearly, I was that other man, the man who shouldn't exist but did. I was the stranger; he wasn't.

...

After that night, Xiaolu and I acted as if nothing had happened.

I went to Xiaolu's house again as usual, and we continued to make love passionately. But I would always glance at the wardrobe next to us. I was sure the wardrobe was half-open; as soon as I turned off the light, I would hear a "creak" sound, the wardrobe would open, and a man would appear. The three of us would then make love, excitedly enjoying various positions.

Later, we no longer needed to turn off the light...

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Her husband was hidden in the closet (reprinted)

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