slutty friend's wife

page views:1 Publication date:2014-02-13

Years ago, while playing mahjong at a friend's bathhouse, my colleague and I met my friend's sister-in-law's best friend. I was a year older than her, and she was a year older than my colleague. Her beauty and elegant demeanor were indescribable, or rather, breathtaking. So, at our first meeting, my colleague and I were deeply attracted to her. Through inquiries with my friend's sister-in-law, I learned that although she was young, her business was thriving. She had been married for a year but was preparing for a divorce. She wanted to find a policeman boyfriend, so her best friend introduced her to our circle. Unfortunately, I was already married when I met her, so my feelings for her remained unrequited. My colleague, however, was unmarried, so he quickly broke up with his flight attendant girlfriend and moved in with her. Not long after, she finalized her divorce and married my colleague.
After their marriage, we still often played mahjong together, mostly at their place. Both she and her husband were heavy card players; they could play anything and everything. Before marriage, they could play together, but after marriage, only one of them could play at a time. So, they often bickered about who should play. I often encouraged my colleagues to let her play, so among my colleagues' card-playing friends, I was her closest friend. Although I also liked her and enjoyed her affection for me, I never bothered her or revealed my feelings for her; we always maintained a pure friendship.
Two years after their marriage, one evening, her best friend who introduced us suddenly called me, asking if I could book a booth for her at a bar. I quickly had the bar manager arrange it. After I told her everything was settled, she invited me to go with her. A thought struck me; I remembered a while ago, when I went to her brother-in-law's bathhouse after drinking, I saw her alone in her office. Taking advantage of the fact that no one was around, I tried to make a move on her, but she reacted strongly and I failed. Could it be that she…? Since I had nothing to do that night, I agreed to go with her. When we arrived, I found that besides us, she was already there; it was just the three of us. I don't like going to bars, and seeing her there, I figured there wouldn't be any surprises with her and her friend that night, so I sat there listlessly watching them.
They were really enjoying the bar atmosphere, standing with their backs to me in front of the booth, hand in hand, swaying wildly to the loud music, occasionally coming over to have a drink with me while they danced, looking very enthusiastic. After watching them for a while, I suddenly realized how sexy their outfits were that night, how alluring their dance moves were. The familiar ladylike demeanor I remembered was gone; these two dancing girls were practically two rebellious teenagers. Seeing their usually tied-up long hair flowing over their shoulders as they danced, seeing their beautiful figures swaying seductively, I also began to enjoy a strange pleasure, watching their performance with great interest.
Probably noticing that I was still sitting there, her friend gestured for me to come to the booth and dance with them. Who could refuse an invitation to dance with beautiful women? I had been sitting there for two reasons: first, I wasn't used to the deafening noise of the bar, and second, I hadn't yet noticed their dramatic changes. So, as soon as her friend signaled for me to dance, I immediately moved closer to them. At first, I was a little reserved, just swaying alone beside them. Unexpectedly, her friend pulled me between them, and they swayed together, flanking me. I started to get excited, and naturally, I wrapped my arms around their slender waists, gradually tightening my embrace. They were like two docile lambs, showing no sign of resistance or displeasure. My growing excitement led me to move my arms forward and upward, though I remained restrained, eventually only holding their soft bellies. As the dance continued, I began to alternately embrace them from behind, swaying back and forth. My hands were wrapped around their bellies, my head rested on their shoulders, and my face pressed against theirs. While I was enjoying myself, they not only seemed to be enjoying themselves too, but they even vied for my embrace, leaving me unsure which one to hold longer. The thin clothing, the close proximity, the air conditioning, the warmth, the perfume, the lights, the music, the daydreams—the feeling at that moment was indescribable. It felt like the three of us were the only ones dancing, performing, and going wild in the entire bar.
We didn't leave the bar until very late that night. As soon as I stepped outside, I noticed that the women I had danced with so freely, though slightly drunk, were quickly regaining their senses and trying to maintain a ladylike image. Their clothing, the distance they kept from me as we walked out, and their expressions made me wonder if I had just been embracing them in a dream. The awkward silence that followed the ride was broken by my seemingly casual but actually pre-planned question. I tentatively asked her best friend, who was still single, "You're all alone at night, but how will she explain going home so late to my colleague and her husband?" Her best friend laughed, "You didn't know we often go to bars here? Her husband doesn't know either, because we only go out on nights when he's on duty at work, once every four days. Before going to the bar, she always calls her husband to say goodnight, and he knows she's afraid of waking up at night, so he doesn't call home after she says goodnight. Why are you so concerned about her?" I suddenly remembered that her husband was on duty that night, and after cursing myself for being stupid, I could only laugh it off, "I'm not concerned, I'm just worried. Now that I know your secret, aren't you afraid I'll tell her husband?" Her best friend laughed again, "You're a good person, always speaking up for her. We like hanging out with you. You even booked a booth for us today, so you probably won't betray us." "Huh? Don't you like hanging out with us? That time you flirted with me while drunk, I haven't even told my brother-in-law yet! Why were you hugging me so tightly just now? Hugging me and then her, aren't you afraid her husband will come after you?" I was speechless for a moment, but thankfully she came to my rescue: "He's a good person, he won't betray us. You had a good time today, right? From now on, the three of us will go to bars together. We don't like hanging out with other people when we're at bars, and we don't want anyone bothering us. Before, people always came up to us trying to get close to us, so you'll have to protect us from now on." Although I really wanted to go to bars with them, and even started to have some fantasies, I politely told the two ladies: "Going to bars together is fine, I'll definitely protect you if I come, but try to come less often and keep it a secret. It doesn't sound good if word gets out that the three of us go to bars together." Her best friend immediately retorted: "You don't have to come, no one's forcing you!" "I'll listen to you, I'll be there whenever you call, okay?" I thought to myself, how could I possibly not come?
Four days flew by, and as expected, her best friend invited me to a bar again, which I readily agreed to. It was the same bar, the same booth, the same three of us, and I was back to my old self, transformed from a lady into a rebellious girl. I grew increasingly excited, my arms around them intentionally or unintentionally brushing against their breasts and lower abdomens. When I hugged them from behind, I went from being concerned about their reactions to deliberately letting them feel my response, enjoying the sensation and stimulation of them squirming and dodging in my arms, yet intentionally rubbing their backs tightly against me. But as I enjoyed this, I started to panic. How could I take things further? Who should I target? Both were so alluring; I couldn't do both at the same time, could I? I shouldn't be greedy and ruin things. I quickly decided to focus on her first. The reason was simple: her best friend had driven herself that night, and I had picked her up, giving me a chance to be alone with her when we left. I acted on my decision quickly, intentionally opening an extra bottle of alcohol and making sure they drank almost all of it. As planned, her best friend told me to take her home before driving off herself. She was noticeably drunk; I had to half-carry, half-help her into the car. Seeing her flushed face and her shy, tipsy demeanor, I felt even more aroused. I deliberately said I was also too drunk to drive her home, and tentatively asked if she'd like to sleep at a hotel near the bar. She didn't answer, so I helped her out of the car and towards the hotel. While I was checking in, she staggered to the hotel lobby and vomited. When I went to help her after checking in, the cold wind woke her up, and she refused to go to the room with me, insisting on going home. Reluctantly, I helped her back into the car. Just before she got in, two things came to mind: first, women only hint, and it's always the man who takes the initiative; second, what opportunity would I have? I helped her to the back seat so she could lie down more comfortably, and then I drove off. I didn't intend to take her home, nor did I want to drag her to her room under the watchful eyes of the staff, so I drove away from the downtown area to a secluded spot on the outskirts of the city.
After I parked the car, she thought we were home and slowly got up from her seat. When she realized we were out of town, she asked me how we got here. I pretended to be drunk, climbed onto the back seat, and pushed her down onto it again. I straddled her, mumbling things about liking her, my hands kneading her breasts through her shirt, my erect penis rubbing against her genitals. She started pushing me away, telling me to stop. She said she could accept me hugging and even kissing her in bars, but she couldn't accept any intimate behavior with other people outside of bars. But my long-standing urges had made me unable to control myself. I ignored her protests and continued to pursue my plan. I pressed my body against hers, using my left hand to hold her hands down on the seat, spreading her legs apart, and lifting her skirt with my right. To ensure a smoother ride, I comforted her, telling her not to be afraid, that I had liked her for a long time, and that I would be gentle, wouldn't hurt her, and would make her feel comfortable. Perhaps my reassurance worked, or perhaps she knew it was all in vain, but her resistance slowly weakened. As her resistance gradually lessened, taking advantage of her hesitation, I gently pulled down her panties amidst her increasingly slight wriggling, then quickly unzipped my pants, releasing my already eager penis, and brought it close to her vaginal opening. I didn't rush into penetration; too hasty penetration would make her uncomfortable and might even provoke new resistance. I began to release her hands, my left arm around her neck, gently licking her right earlobe, whispering my long-held feelings for her, while my right hand slipped inside her shirt, gently pinching her nipple and kneading her breast. As her sensitive areas were continuously stimulated, her breathing became rapid. I began to gently rub my nose against hers, softly sucking on her lips and slowly parting her lips with my tongue, our tongues intertwining. Finally, she also began to suck on my tongue and wrapped her arms around my neck. We kept adjusting our head positions, passionately kissing. As I felt her breathing become more rapid, I began kissing her neck, gently unbuttoning her blouse with my right hand. She cooperated, taking off her blouse and then, with my help, unhooking her bra, revealing her snow-white upper body and firm breasts. I started kissing her neck down to her breasts, alternating between kissing and sucking them. Her breasts weren't large, but they were firm and full, feeling wonderful to hold or suckle. Her nipples and areolas were small and very sensitive, eliciting ecstatic moans from me. I felt the foreplay was enough, so my right hand began caressing downwards, stroking her flat stomach, her pubic hair, her smooth buttocks and thighs, then gently rubbing her vulva and clitoris. Under my stimulation, her vagina began to flow with moisture, and she began to slightly raise her hips. It was time to attack. I used my right hand to guide my penis, slowly rubbing it against her vulva, then suddenly and gently slipping into her vagina. Her vagina was tight, gripping my penis firmly. It was also short, so even in the confined space of the car seat, I could easily feel the bottom. The moment of penetration made us both gasp almost simultaneously; mine was a gasp of pleasure, hers tinged with pain. Perhaps from the pain, or perhaps knowing her last line of defense had been breached, she suddenly tried to push me away. I asked if I was hurting her and promised to be gentle, but she said she couldn't continue, she couldn't take it anymore, and begged me to let her go. I couldn't let her have any more ideas now, and I disregarded her gentle promises. I pressed my hands against her shoulders, propped myself up, and began thrusting my penis rapidly inside her. Her resistance intensified, but this only fueled my desire to possess her; the stronger her resistance, the more forcefully I penetrated. Gradually, her resistance weakened, her body became increasingly limp, and she was completely at my mercy. I maintained my thrusting pace, whispering in her ear if it felt good. She nodded first, then immediately shook her head. I knew her resistance had exhausted her strength even to speak, and I also knew she was starting to feel pleasure. The moment she subconsciously nodded, she remembered it wasn't her wish and immediately shook her head again. I kissed her lips, telling her to enjoy it slowly, that I would bring her to orgasm. I continued to conquer her body, thinking that even in the not-so-comfortable environment of the car seat, I had to make her reach orgasm. Firstly, it was the promise I had made to her at the beginning, whether through coaxing or deception, and secondly, it was for future opportunities to be intimate. I was naturally more persistent after drinking, and this time I held out well. My efforts finally made her start moaning again. As the moans became more rapid, I felt she was close to orgasm. Although I couldn't stretch out in the car, and my arms and legs were already aching, I persisted. "Baby, are we almost there? Let's get there together!" My question elicited repeated nods from her. She tightened her grip on me, wrapping her legs around my waist, her muffled moans mingling with "Faster, faster, faster!" I placed her left leg on my right shoulder, my right leg bracing against the passenger seat, trying to bring her lower body as close to me as possible, using my last bit of strength for a final thrust. As the penetration accelerated, our moans intensified. I cried out, "Baby, I'm here!" and pounced on her, thrusting my penis as far into her vagina as possible, releasing my semen against her clitoris. As I ejaculated, I felt her vagina and uterus contract tightly around my penis, and a warm flow gushed out from within, my glans feeling warm from the stimulation. To be honest, I only wanted her to experience an orgasm, but I didn't expect her to squirt. I kissed her and asked, "Feeling good, baby? Squirting, was that satisfying?" She shyly turned her face away, giggling secretly. My first time with her left me wanting more, and I was reluctant to pull my penis out of her vagina. I asked her if she wanted to do it again, but she said that this time I had exhausted her, and it was almost dawn. I couldn't go against her wishes again, so I held her and sat down to rest for a while before packing my clothes and rushing back to the city. On the way, I apologized to her repeatedly, explaining that I had only done it because I truly loved her. She said calmly that it was in the past and I wouldn't talk about it anymore, so I didn't dare ask about what would happen next.
The next day at work, I paid special attention to her husband, my colleague; everything seemed normal, as if nothing had happened. Four more days passed, and her best friend invited me to go to a bar that night, which I gladly accepted. That night, the three of us had a great time at the bar, and she showed no signs of anything amiss. In my excitement, I drank a few more glasses and unknowingly passed out in a booth. When I woke up, I found myself in a strange yet familiar room, on a bed. Upon closer inspection, I realized I was lying on the bed in her master bedroom, with her sleeping on my left and her best friend on my right, both fast asleep. I broke out in a cold sweat. We were lying there, fully clothed, and I was worried about what would happen if her husband came home and saw us. I rushed out of the room, and to my even greater surprise, their front door was ajar. I quickly woke them up and asked how I ended up there and why the door was open. They said I was drunk and had brought me to their house because they didn't know where I was, and they might have forgotten to close the door. I scolded them for not considering the consequences of their actions and told her friend to hurry up and leave before her husband got home from get off work. Her friend laughed at me for being a coward, saying it was only 6 a.m. and her husband still had four hours until he got off work. However, she remembered she really had something to do, so she left in a hurry.
I had initially planned to leave with her best friend, but when I got to the door, I remembered it was only six o'clock and she was home alone, so I stopped myself. She had heard me in her bedroom and realized I hadn't left; then, hearing me walk towards the bedroom, she suddenly locked the door. I knew she was afraid I would take advantage of her again, but the thought of the thrill of making love with her gave me a mischievous idea. I deliberately said I was leaving too and slammed the front door shut before quickly and quietly slipping outside her bedroom door. She fell for it; hearing the door close, she opened it and was startled to see me standing there. I picked her up and put her on the bed, saying, "If your husband had found out while I was asleep, I would have been so wronged. I was brought back without your knowledge, and even though I didn't do anything, lying in your bed would be impossible to explain. It's better to be innocent than to be wrongly accused; we can die in peace. Besides, we did it four days ago, but the environment wasn't ideal. Let's relive it in bed today." She said she didn't want to have sex with me anymore and told me to leave quickly and pretend nothing had happened. My desire was aroused, and I didn't care whether she was willing or not. I pressed her down firmly, took off my shirt, and started kissing her forcefully. She kept writhing under me, refusing to give in. I knew that to get what I wanted, I would have to rape her. After my previous experience, I knew that even rape wouldn't matter because, although she resisted fiercely, she didn't shout for help or threaten to call the police. To finish quickly, I had no choice but to tie her hands and feet with her stockings and fix them to the headboard and footboard posts. She lay on the bed in a "spread-eagle" position, unable to move. After the preparations were complete, I started to reassure her that it was okay, that I would leave after we did it, and that it wouldn't affect her family in the future. But if she still didn't cooperate, I might leave marks on her body during the resistance. Finally, after some persuasion, she closed her eyes, turned her face to one side, and stopped writhing. Since she wasn't resisting, I obviously couldn't just penetrate and ejaculate like in rape. I started this sexual encounter by kissing her calves. Her skin was smooth, her legs long and slender. My kisses were gentle, but she neither resisted nor enjoyed them, remaining motionless. After kissing both her legs, I asked her why she was silent, if I was kissing her uncomfortably. She still didn't make a sound. I knew she was using silence to resist my sexual advances, and although silent sex wasn't harmonious, I had no choice but to go along with it. Just as I was about to move towards her upper body, I suddenly thought of 69 with her, so I straddled her neck, turned my back to her, and approached her genitals. She thought I was deliberately trying to sit on her head and asked me unhappily what I wanted. I knew she had misunderstood, and I understood that her husband definitely hadn't tried 69 with her, so I smiled and explained that I wanted to do 69 with her. She cried out that no, she didn't want me to lick her genitals, and she absolutely refused to give me oral sex. I told her that whether she gave me oral sex or not was up to her; I would definitely let her experience the feeling of a man's tongue. As I spoke, I began to part her legs, gently licking her pubic hair with my tongue, then down to her vulva. I gently took her small, bright red clitoris into my mouth, sometimes sucking, sometimes rubbing it with my tongue. Finally, she couldn't help but moan. I licked even more vigorously, repeatedly thrusting my tongue into her vagina. Her vaginal fluids flowed out quickly, and her moans grew louder. Stimulated by her, my penis became even harder, pressing against her face. Finally, with a moan as she opened her mouth, my penis slid into her cherry-like mouth, and I moaned as I thrust into her throat. Feeling this wasn't quite right, I turned and straddled her chest, deeply inserting my penis into her mouth. She was already aroused, having long forgotten her refusal to give me oral sex, letting my penis enter her mouth. Overwhelmed with excitement, I felt the urge to ejaculate shortly after starting to thrust. I pulled her head close and forcefully thrust my penis into her mouth. With a soft moan, I gave her oral sex. Being inexperienced, she swallowed some and spat out the rest, getting some on her face, hair, and the sheets. Unfortunately, her hands and feet were bound, preventing her from wiping. Afraid of soiling her bed, I released her hands and feet, and she immediately rushed to the bathroom to vomit. When she came out, she complained that I was disgusting. I told her I was letting her experience sex she'd never had before, and that she might enjoy 69 and oral sex once she got used to it. As I said this, I pulled her back onto the bed, kissed her, and pressed her down. She twisted slightly but then stopped resisting, and began to moan softly again. I knew her desire was aroused, but she wasn't satisfied yet. I teased her, asking if she wanted an orgasm or squirting, while smoothly inserting my penis into her vagina. As my thrusting increased, she slowly began to respond, and I felt even more satisfied. To help her reach orgasm quickly, I gently asked her if she wanted to be on top. At first, she refused, but after I told her that the woman-on-top position makes it easier to reach orgasm, she finally shyly switched positions with me. That's when I realized she had absolutely no experience with different positions. I told her I would guide her through the pleasures of sex. Once on top, she was clumsy and unsure of what to do, so I had to guide her. Gradually, she grasped the basics of the woman-on-top position and began to writhe wildly on top of me, even more frequently than I was on top of her. She quickly reached orgasm and collapsed onto me. I kissed her lips, had her lie on her side, and entered her from behind, bringing her to another orgasm. I resisted the urge to ejaculate, stopping whenever I felt the urge to change positions, allowing me to enjoy our sex for longer. She orgasmed four times that morning, and I didn't ejaculate until after her fourth. After she ejaculated, I asked her if she wanted me to give her oral sex. Unexpectedly, she complied and gave me oral sex, unlike before when she would vomit after oral sex; instead, she carefully licked my penis clean. I asked her what it felt like to have sex with me, and she said I had so many tricks up my sleeve. When I ejaculated, it felt like I was crushing her, or like I was drilling into her body, making her feel very good. I said I felt good too, but unfortunately, I didn't make her squirt. Seeing that she wasn't averse to having sex with me anymore, I got aroused again and asked her if she wanted to do it again. She asked me if I wanted to do it until her husband came home, and I realized it was already past eight o'clock. I cuddled with her for a little while and then left in a hurry.
For the next six months, I attended every invitation and went out with them to bars. However, aside from the hugging and kissing in the bars, we never had a chance to have sex. This was because she was quite restrained and tried to avoid being alone with me. Then, six months later, after leaving a bar, she asked me to take her home, which I gladly obliged. In the car, she suddenly brought up her husband, who was also my colleague. She said she had recently discovered he was exchanging flirtatious messages with a female hairstylist at a nearby hair salon, and asked if I knew anything about it. I honestly replied that I didn't. She then asked if all men couldn't resist loneliness. I didn't know what she meant by this, so I gave a vague answer that it wasn't that men couldn't resist loneliness, but that men were more careless about marriage than women, leading many to find themselves regretting their marriage afterward. However, I told her that her husband wouldn't easily cheat because, based on our years of knowing him, I knew he was a gambler but not a womanizer, and I had never seen him in nightclubs. I told her she had discovered it early this time, and with just a little hint, her husband would get back on track. She thanked me for resolving a major question in her mind and accepted the method I taught her. Then, surprisingly, she said she didn't want to go home that night. When I foolishly asked her if she was going to her parents' house, she said she was going to a bathhouse to spend the night. It suddenly dawned on me that her not going home was an implication that she wanted to spend the night with me outside. Her initiative made me flustered, unsure which bathhouse to go to. She suggested a bathhouse near her house, convenient for getting home in the morning. We quickly arrived at the bathhouse, changed into bathrobes without showering, and entered a couples' private room. While I hesitated about whether or how to ask her for sex, she took off her bathrobe and went into the bathroom inside the room to shower. After some internal struggle, I also took off my bathrobe and went straight into the bathroom. Under the shower, I hugged her from behind and told her that I knew she deeply loved her husband, that I would no longer bother her, and that I would help her keep an eye on her husband. I spoke sincerely, and she was very moved. I reiterated that after tonight, we shouldn't dwell on the past; let it be buried forever, and return to our normal relationship as friends and colleagues' wives. Unless absolutely necessary, I wouldn't visit her if her husband wasn't around, and naturally, I wouldn't go to bars. She agreed and nodded, thanking me for handling things this way and ending our awkward situation. Suddenly, I felt a sense of impending separation, wondering if I should ease the tension. So I asked her what she planned for me that night—whether I should go home or… She understood my meaning and said that since it was so late, I could sleep there. With her affirmative suggestion, I smiled and said I'd book another private room, otherwise, a lone man and woman might get carried away. She laughed and teased me, asking if I'd be willing to leave this room tonight. I smiled back and replied, "Let's make tonight our most beautiful memory," and then, lifting her up in my arms and kissing her, carried her to the bed. In bed, I asked her, "You asked me to stay tonight, so you won't force me to rape you again with your fierce resistance, will you?" Unexpectedly, she replied that she also enjoyed that kind of sex. I smiled bitterly and said, "It seems you enjoy being abused. But while you enjoyed it, I've been branded a stigma and haven't even had a chance to enjoy the pleasure of sex. Tonight, for the last time, you have to let me enjoy it properly." She laughed and crawled under the covers. I followed her under the covers and pressed her down on the bed from behind. This time, there was no gentle foreplay; my movements were as rough as possible. I roughly forced her legs apart, but she tried to close them tightly. I inserted my legs between hers, then forcefully spread them apart, grabbing her genitals and rubbing them vigorously. Feeling a slight wetness at the entrance of her vagina, I forcefully thrust my penis inside, saying, "You're so disobedient! You're so restless! I'll fuck you to death!" My rough movements actually helped her reach arousal faster. She continued to twist her lower body forcefully, retorting, "I won't let you fuck me! You'll be so impatient!" The male-behind position is one of my favorites; it gives me a particularly deep sensation. I didn't change positions and relentlessly attacked her in my favorite sex position. Soon, I felt the urge to ejaculate. I pressed down hard on her shoulders, telling her to stop, that I was about to come. But she deliberately twisted even more violently, and because of the force, my penis slipped out of her vagina just as I was about to climax. I quickly straddled her neck, forcefully turning her face to the side, and then ejaculated in her face, spraying my semen all over her face and hair. Then, I pinched her cheeks, forcing her to open her mouth, and shoved my penis into her mouth, continuing to thrust and deep-throat. Watching her try to vomit gave me immense satisfaction. After she licked my penis clean, I lay on the bed, lamenting that every time we had sex, it felt like I was raping her. I satisfied her this way, but my guilt grew stronger and stronger. As she cleaned the semen off her body, she said, "From the very first time, it was indeed you who raped me. Every time was it voluntary. I just don't know why I didn't know how to refuse you. Every time you raped me, I truly didn't want to have sex with you, but I was powerless to resist. Even though I was so unwilling to be raped, afterwards I was willing to get closer to you." I smiled and said the reason was simple: I took you to another peak of sexual pleasure. At first, you were unwilling, but afterwards, you felt you had never enjoyed it so much. So even knowing that it would happen again, you still willingly walked into the trap. Unfortunately, everything ended tonight. I will keep my promise and keep the whole secret." She said softly, "I believe you will. I'm doing this simply because I don't want to betray my husband." I held her close, kissing her earlobe, and said I understood and would support her. But we needed to hurry. I was worried it would be like that last night in *A Chinese Ghost Story*, when Ning Caichen and Xiaoqian had so much to say, but dawn was breaking, and they would be separated forever. Now I truly understood Ning Caichen's feelings. So let me take you to that final moment. She laughed at me, saying I was calling her a ghost. I replied that she was the most beautiful female ghost, and I was the lucky Ning Caichen. As I said this, I climbed onto her soft body again. Just as I was planning how to perfectly complete our final act of lovemaking, she suggested I stop moving and take the initiative. Of course, I complied. I lay on the bed, quietly waiting for her to finish this final act. She gathered her long hair behind her ear and lay down beside me, cupping my face in her hands and kissing me passionately. Her tongue was so gentle and moving, her lips so sweet they touched my heart. After a long kiss, she began kissing my chest. I enjoyed her kisses, moaning softly. She deliberately covered my mouth with her hand, saying my moans aroused her, and she wanted to savor the sex slowly. I stopped moaning, caressing her head, shoulders, and hands, closing my eyes to enjoy this last supper. Her kisses felt gentle, meticulous, and elegant, bringing me immense pleasure. This sensation slowly moved from my chest to my abdomen. My penis was erect, and when I tried to press it down, I felt her hand grasp it, and then I felt her cherry-like mouth take it into her mouth. At this moment, she lay on top of me, her arms resting on my legs, her hands holding my penis, sometimes caressing, sometimes kissing. I restrained myself, remaining focused, slowly enjoying her oral sex. Her gentle, meticulous, and elegant movements completely compensated for any shortcomings in my oral sex technique. For the first time, I discovered that even the most clumsy oral sex, when done earnestly and with full engagement, can offer a unique kind of enjoyment. To avoid affecting her performance, I didn't make any demands, even when she bit my penis painfully or my thighs ached from her touch, I endured it all, not wanting to miss a single moment of pleasure she gave me. She kissed my entire body like an artist kissing their carefully crafted work, then straddled me, placing her long hair over her shoulders before guiding my penis into her already wet vagina. The moment it entered, we both let out satisfied groans. She leaned back slightly, supporting herself on my thighs with her hands behind her back, and began to slowly sway against me. Her satisfied groans grew louder and louder, to the point that I was afraid the people in the next room could hear them clearly. At the same time, I felt her movements gradually quicken; she was clearly excited and satisfied. My desire was completely aroused. I tried to change positions, but she held me down. She murmured in her sleep that it felt good on top, that she wanted to be on top, that it was easy, and that she wanted to do it again. Her satisfaction also gave me satisfaction, and I let her do as she pleased on me. I don't know how many times she came, only that after one very obvious orgasm, she collapsed weakly into my arms. I laid her flat on the bed and began to perform, changing positions: top, side, rear, kneeling, and riding. That night I lasted exceptionally long, and she climaxed countless times. After my own orgasm, I held her tightly and ejaculated one last time, then collapsed onto the bed, the sheets soaked with our sweat, semen, and vaginal fluid.
When I woke up, she was no longer in the private room. I gazed wistfully out the window, knowing that like Ning Caichen who would never see Xiaoqian again after dawn, I would never have sex with her again.

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