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Blogger:Ah Hong 2020-03-04

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[Indulged in self-destruction] 

    page views:1  Publication date:2020-03-04  
I don't know how much time passed before I slowly woke up. He was on top of me, gently stroking my hard, erect nipples. Seeing that I was awake, he slowly resumed his movements. After a dozen or so thrusts, he slowly lifted his buttocks back, and with a "pop," like pulling a cork, he withdrew his penis from my vagina. I saw that his penis was covered with engorged veins; no wonder it felt so good when it moved, making me feel like I was ascending. (Afterwards, he told me that this was an orgasm, the highest level of female sexual experience. I was stunned. After being a woman for eight years, I didn't even know what an "orgasm" or "squirt" was! As a woman, I feel so pathetic.)


After catching his breath, he lay on top of me again and slowly inserted his still-erect penis all the way back into my vagina, like a ramming machine, "thump, thump," thrusting powerfully for over 30 minutes. My heart clenched again. In the feeling of ascension, another orgasm came. And this orgasm lasted longer than the first; I almost fainted. As he slowly pulled his penis out of my vagina, I glanced at it and was amazed. How could my vagina hold such a long and thick thing? It was thicker than a duck egg, a full eight inches long, and the head was the size of a child's fist. When he slowly entered again, it stretched me a little painfully, and with each thrust, I felt the tender flesh inside my vagina turn outwards. He was panting heavily, his penis throbbing inside me, waves of hot fluid gushing deep into my body, impacting my clitoris. The heat made me tremble uncontrollably. He ejaculated. My vaginal fluid gushed out wildly, soaking a large patch of the sheets.


After a while, he turned me over, signaling me to raise my buttocks. He gave his penis a shake and then inserted it into my vagina from behind, a unique kind of pleasure arising again. He held my buttocks with both hands, his long penis thrusting in and out continuously, his thumb massaging my anus. My heart trembled. After about ten minutes of thrusting, he pulled out his penis and turned me over so I was lying on my back. His penis was thicker and stronger, especially the veins on it. The friction between my penis and the entrance felt incredibly good, something I hadn't experienced in years. He thrust for about fifteen more minutes, and I gradually felt myself approaching another orgasm. Then, he began thrusting wildly, and I felt a surge of heat reaching deep inside me. He ejaculated again, a large amount of semen. With each ejaculation, I felt an indescribable pleasure. I finally screamed, and another orgasm came.


I lay paralyzed on the bed, unable to move. He pulled out his penis, spread my legs, and rubbed his limp penis against my clitoris, labia, and entrance. Because of the abundant lubrication, it slid smoothly for a few strokes before his penis hardened again. As he rubbed my clitoris, I gradually felt pleasure again. Suddenly, he thrust his penis back in, and I instinctively screamed. However, he pulled out his penis, carried me into the bathroom, and carefully washed me. After washing, my libido seemed to have subsided a little. He started licking my vulva again, this time more intensely than the first time; his tongue seemed to roll inside. This filled my whole body with pleasure again. He licked me for about 10 minutes, then got up and pulled my head towards his penis. I shamelessly took it into my mouth (I had never sucked my husband's penis before). For some reason, I, who had never sucked a penis before, sucked very hard. He groaned from time to time, and his penis began to swell again. He carried me to the bed, placed me on the edge of the bed, spread my legs, and inserted his penis into my vagina again. I cried out "Oh!" He began to increase the speed of his thrusting, and my pleasure became more and more intense. Sometimes he would lift my legs and thrust his penis all the way in; sometimes he would roll me onto my side, stroking my breasts as he thrust. After about ten minutes, he turned me onto my back, reaching my clitoris every time. He continued this frenzied thrusting for less than ten minutes before my pleasure returned. He cried out, and a surge of heat shot through me; he ejaculated again. I passed out. When I woke up, I was still lying flat, my lower abdomen and pubic hair a mess, and my vulva was still wet with fluids. He said to me, "You were amazing."


I looked down at my vulva; it was red and swollen from his intense thrusting, and my fluids had flowed down my vulva onto the bed, soaking a large area. My face flushed red, and I wanted to find something to cover myself. He went outside and returned a moment later with a damp towel. Ignoring my protests, he began to clean my vulva. The cool damp towel felt wonderful. Without any tenderness in bed, I sat up, my body feeling like it was falling apart, and struggled into the bathroom. Even my steps felt different, like a virgin being deflowered. My vagina felt burning.


In the bathroom, I squatted on the floor, trying to expel what he had ejaculated inside me. Looking at the milky white liquid dripping onto the floor, I cried. I felt so sorry for my husband, always making him wear uncomfortable condoms. Thinking about this, I repeatedly rinsed my vagina with water, trying to wash it all away. I sat in the tub for over 30 minutes, as if washing away everything that had happened that day. But I knew it was all real. It had left an indelible mark on my heart. After washing, I got dressed and checked the time; it was almost 5 pm. I was puzzled how he could have done it to me for 6 or 7 hours straight. Luckily, the children were on summer vacation at their grandparents' house, so I didn't have to worry about them.


I dragged my exhausted body back to the bedroom, collapsed onto the bed, and fell asleep. In my sleep, the phone rang; it was my husband calling from Beijing. I didn't say much before hanging up, saying I wasn't feeling well, filled with guilt. However, after this licentious experience, I truly understood what perfect sex is. Things like: novel positions, the "nine shallow, one deep" method, woman on top, the "dragonfly skimming the water"... some were exhilaratingly high, others left me on the edge of my seat, just a hair's breadth away from climax, but that final touch, that crucial moment that left me breathless and agonizing, all of these things making me unable to stop.


This was the first time I had helplessly betrayed my husband, and the first time I had experienced sex with another man. It was also the first time in my eight years of marriage that I had experienced orgasm and squirting. Afterwards, I felt that no matter how exciting the pleasure of promiscuity, it couldn't make me abandon my husband. I love him, regardless of whether he can give me an orgasm; I love him now and I always will. My husband is my reliance in this life, an insurmountable mountain. With others, it's just a fling and a way to seek physical stimulation, to add some spice to my mundane life, or to be mischievous and playful.

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