A Young Woman's Confession - A classic work that caused a sensation in 2006!

page views:1 Publication date:2023-05-26 08:11:18

I
have a husband and a lovely daughter. I grew up in an old small town, which is now a modern metropolis.
Normally, mornings are the busiest time for a woman; my daughter has to go to kindergarten, I have to make breakfast, and then the adults rush to work. But I have such a wonderful husband, He Zhuoqun. He always gets up before me, then bends down and showers me with kisses and nibbles. Only then does he get up to get dressed and wash up. Sometimes, before I'm even fully awake, he'll lift the covers and pat my smooth bottom. I always enjoy this affectionate and tender teasing; it sets a wonderful mood for my whole day. He takes our daughter to school, rain or shine, a routine he's always up to. It's all because he leaves me completely exhausted every night.
By the time I get up, it's already past eight o'clock. I always take a shower after brushing my teeth—you can probably guess what that means. Just like I always like to sleep naked, maybe in my underwear. I love the feeling of posing in front of the vanity mirror; for that, I'd gladly be a woman again in my
next life. I'm an accounting supervisor at a bank, a job that's easy yet powerful. That's thanks to our boss, Wang Xiangzhong, whose long-standing friendship with my mother allows me to thrive in his company. My mother, while not stunningly beautiful for her generation, was certainly a top-tier beauty. Even today, she retains her charm. My father passed away when I was eighteen, and from then on, Mr. Wang was completely captivated by my mother.
==============================
In
our workplace, everyone wears blue shirts and black ties every day, but we women always find ways to look glamorous and sexy. Shirts are increasingly fitted, and skirts are getting shorter and shorter. Look at that girl at the savings counter, leaning over the back of her skirt so short it revealed her underwear. She was drawing stares from the passing male employees, their eyes practically blazing with desire. As I walked past her, I patted her bottom, a warning about her accidental exposure.
My office is upstairs, and through that glass window, I can clearly see everything in the lobby. When I have free time, I like to sit in my swivel chair and look down, and I really wish people below could look up and see my long, straight legs and what's under my skirt. However, my floor-to-ceiling windows aren't transparent from the outside.
But one day, I still managed to enjoy a
thrilling . The feeling was even more wonderful than I'd imagined. I don't understand why I felt this way; it was like being in a public place, under the watchful eyes of everyone—the excitement and pleasure were so intense, it astonished me.
The moment his penis entered me, I knew I was already drunk and unable to control myself. I frantically urged him to ravage me, making meaningless moans. When his passion erupted, we both lay limply on the sofa, too lazy to even move. Afterwards, he kissed me and said,
"My good daughter, your thing is just like your mother's." You should know who that is now. Actually, it's not fair to say that Mr. Wang is a fickle or promiscuous man.
That time, he came into our house. I was washing my hair, my whole body buried in the basin. He hugged me from behind, and at that moment he thought it was my mother, Yu Ru.
He hugged me tightly from behind and his hands went straight for my breasts, calling out, "Little vixen, little darling." When I looked up, his surprised look was like that of a shy big boy. I didn't yell, I just gestured towards the upstairs. He rubbed his hands shyly and smiled gratefully at me. All day long, he didn't dare to look me in the eye.
It was he who first revealed the true nature of men to me, before I even met Zhuo Qun. That night, I had diarrhea and was heading to my mother's room to get medicine when I peeked at him and my mother passionately embracing in bed. He had my mother sit on the edge of the bed while he knelt between her legs, licking and sucking her. My mother, her
arms propped on the edge of the bed, tilted her head to one side, moaning with her eyes closed, as if humming a wordless lullaby.
At that moment, I knew this man truly loved my mother to the core. I was happy for my mother and sincerely wished them well.
As my boss and my mother's lover, I genuinely had no intention of seducing him. Mr. Wang had indeed poured his heart and soul into our family, giving everything he had. Even when my father was still alive, he had adopted me as his goddaughter; perhaps he used me as an excuse to come and go from our home. My poor father, completely oblivious, allowed him and my mother, these two former classmates, to have their secret affair.
My sexual relationship with him was recent. That day, he was drunk, and I took my godfather to his house, as was my duty. His house was cold and deserted. He had divorced for his mother's sake and sent his daughter to study in Hong Kong.
He was very distressed then, telling me that his mother had rejected his marriage proposal. He said he had everything prepared and that he thought
our union was natural. But I could see that his mother had lost her former enthusiasm for him. He said he was disheartened, and even though his career was at its peak, he was thinking of retiring now and going to Hong Kong to be with his daughter.
He said this to me while lying on the sofa in the living room, and I had moved a small stool and sat next to him. It felt like my hand was still tightly holding his. I said, "You don't even want me, your goddaughter?" As I said this, I knew my eyes were burning with desire, and I even brought my face close to his ear.
As he held me tightly, I cried out, "You can't do this, I'm your daughter!"
I knew I had aroused his desire. This man in his fifties was like a young lad, experiencing a passionate frenzy on my body, from the sofa to the floor, from the living room to the bedroom, from the bathroom to the bed.
That night, I deliberately flaunted my passion, appearing even more aroused than him. My womanly vulva was also very cooperative; the moment his fingers probed inside, it was already overflowing with nectar, making him breathless with excitement. I was truly worried whether his heart could handle it. I knew I couldn't live without him, and my home couldn't be
without him. I was like a seductive, alluring woman, teasing him relentlessly, driving him to a frenzy of carnal pleasure.
After he had poured out his passion on me, I helped him wash up and watched him get into bed before leaving. Although he couldn't satisfy my desires, he gave me endless stimulation, a novel and entirely new kind of stimulation.
The fact that he was my mother's lover was more exciting to me than having sex with him. It also satisfied my ambition to conquer men.
Secondly,
I didn't shy away from having a lover in common with my mother. Wang Xiangzhong's mature, steady, loving, and humorous image was exactly what a girl like me, who lacked fatherly love since childhood, dreamed of. But he frankly told me that being with me made him feel pressure he had never felt before. I felt a little jealous when he said this, even though it was in his office, and his hands were inside my skirt, caressing me. He said that my private parts were very similar to my mother's, both so plump and full. I knew that; I never dared to wear tight pants, and I had to consider the occasion when wearing jeans, otherwise my private parts would be conspicuously
exposed, attracting many lustful glances.
From his tone, I knew his feelings for my mother. In this respect, he didn't seem like a powerful business tycoon, but more like a refined scholar. But my mother always kept her distance from him, neither cold nor passionate. Sometimes she would even throw tantrums at him for no reason.
I stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass wall in my office, gazing at the crowds below, lost in thought. Mornings were always packed with tasks, and the whole morning would slip by in a blur of activity. Then Xiaoyang brought me lunch. He wasn't in my department; he worked in the most powerful loan department. But he always seemed to come here, not because I had many attractive women working for me.
I usually ate lunch at the bank. My daughter was in full-time daycare, and my husband, Zhuoqun, had gotten a substantial loan from Manager Wang and was heavily invested in stock trading. A little success had energized him, and he
was completely absorbed in it. He ate lunch in the VIP room of the stock exchange, and I didn't bother with him. I checked his account regularly anyway; it was easy. I knew many people in the financial world, so as long as there weren't any major discrepancies, it was fine. A man should have some autonomy, right?
Xiaoyang was a very handsome boy, so handsome it was almost heartbreaking, making one afraid to fall for him yet also afraid of rejection. He had smooth skin, a tall stature, and captivating, poetic eyes that seemed to possess a fox-like quality when he looked at people. His features were sharp, defined, and mesmerizing. What was striking was the bluish stubble on his chin, adding a rugged, unconventional touch to his clean, sweet appearance. He had graduated from school less than a year ago, yet he always displayed a worldliness far beyond his years in my presence. During just one summer vacation, my younger sister, Xiao Wan, who was studying in Guangzhou, and he became involved with her. Their relationship was passionate, with constant phone calls day and night—perhaps this is how young people are these days.
"Still working hard? Time to eat," he said, pushing my lunchbox towards me as I sat at my desk.
I didn't thank him, only offering him an ambiguous smile. A warm feeling surged from the soles of my feet, leaving a warm sensation in my lower abdomen.
"Sister Mei, I'm going to Guangzhou this week. Do you need me to bring anything back?" he asked, eating across from me.
“Didn’t you just go last week? Why are you in such a hurry? I’m telling you, don’t disturb Xiaowan’s studies,” I scolded him.
“She made me go,” he argued loudly, but his face still couldn’t hide his smugness.
I felt a surge of inexplicable anger. I pushed aside the rice bowl in front of me, and the cold rice and leftover soup spilled out.
“Sister Mei, are you angry?” His eyes shone with a gentle light. He shushed me, and I could feel a few strands of soft, long hair on his forehead being blown by the breath. He had the exaggerated and neurotic expression typical of a teenage boy, as if he had been suppressing something for too long.
“No, why would I be angry? Why would I be angry? Is it worth it?” I felt a lack of confidence when I said this, and my tongue was a little tied.
He came over to clean up the spilled soup. As he bent over to wipe the table, his high, upturned buttocks and long, pointed legs made my heart flutter and I couldn’t control myself. I struggled to tear my eyes away from him, suppressing the almost overwhelming desire within me.
"Sister Mei, don't be like this, you know what I'm thinking," he said, moving closer and grabbing my shoulders.
I shook off his hand. I knew all too well that a woman of my status, with her occasional coquettishness, was like a flower blooming suddenly after the rain, more likely to attract a man like Xiaoyang. I admitted he held an irresistible allure for me. I'd heard too many stories of passion, fleeting moments, and grand dreams, and I'd experienced them all myself.
**************************
When Xiaoyang first reported to the bank, I happened to meet him in the elevator. I didn't pay much attention to him then; he looked very young, not like a recent college graduate starting work, but more like the son of one of my colleagues.
As we entered the elevator, our shadows were reflected on the gleaming granite floor. The tallest was
Xiaoyang , his long legs encased in neatly pressed, distressed blue jeans, a wide eyeband accentuating his well-defined waist and hips. It was then that I realized how strikingly handsome this boy was, even possessing a latent sex appeal. He introduced himself first, and I, in a friendly manner, invited him to my office.
From then on, he frequently visited, seemingly without a reason. Colleagues gossiped that he was worldly and opportunistic. These rumors spread, even angering General Manager Wang. He pulled me onto his lap and said, "Where did this wild boy come from? He doesn't do anything productive, just hangs out with women all day."
Looking at the old man's furious expression, I found it amusing. Men don't discriminate based on age or seniority when jealous; they all react with the same furious, glaring, and raging nature. He unhooked my bra, and my breasts burst out. My nipples seemed a little hardened, and he roughly flicked them a few times, which hurt a little. I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, my soft belly pressed against his body, and whispered in his ear, "Him? Just a boy who's barely grown up. Who do you think he is? Besides, he's currently wooing our Xiaowan." He then smiled, placing his hand on my lower back and gently stroking my plump buttocks.
I lit a cigarette for him, and he took it, slipping one hand inside my underwear. I lay on top of him, my buttocks raised high, and his hand rubbed and kneaded freely. His hand explored my buttocks, seemingly unwilling to miss even the smallest spot. After a while, he inserted his fingers into the bulge between my legs. My waist shifted slightly,
and my soft, white hand slowly moved across his body, kneading and rubbing, sliding from my abdomen down to between his legs. He became aroused, his fingers curling even more tightly, his other hand caressing the inside of my legs. We both gasped and writhed, my cries sounding like an animal being bitten, low moans escaping my lips, my face swaying from side to side, my beautiful thighs contracting and relaxing.
Only when the phone rang did he reluctantly lower my legs with a smile. Before letting go, he gently bit the whitest, softest spot on my inner thigh, making me scream in an exaggerated way.
I chuckled again, knowing I looked even more wanton at that moment. I knew that a woman is most beautiful when she is most wanton, when all her loveliness and beauty
come . I imagined I must have looked even more radiant then, with bright eyes and white teeth, a rosy complexion, and shallow dimples. So he couldn't help but lean down, but before he could kiss my lips, I cupped his face in my hands and kissed him passionately, until he was breathless and dazed.
The phone rang impatiently and urgently this time.
At that time, I was indeed beaming and satisfied with this boy calling me "sister" all the time. I was already used to his flattery, his ingratiation, and his smooth-talking banter. His creative drive, his passion, and his restless nature both confused and excited me.
Gradually, we talked more, and I noticed the boy's inappropriate pursuit and attachment to me. I
knew that mutual affection, even if brief, was dangerous, especially since my beautiful sister, who was as pretty as me, had fallen for him against her will. Generally speaking, a woman like me, especially, wouldn't chase after a fling for the sake of a foreseeable separation; she was more easily driven by self-deceptive desires to embrace each new beginning.
I had a very strong, uneasy feeling about him. But regardless, this adventure was worth it.
I knew he was already dating Xiaowan passionately; their relationship had developed so rapidly it left
me speechless—it was love at first sight.
It was at my house. Xiaowan had gone home for summer vacation that day, and only my sister and I were home for dinner. I can't remember what Xiaoyang brought me. Xiaowan opened the door, and the inner door opened too. Through the iron gate, Xiaoyang proudly displayed a smiling face and a dripping red rose. His manners and etiquette were exactly the kind of tricks many sophisticated white-collar workers use.
The moment he entered, I saw Xiaowan swallow hard, take the flower, and habitually smell it. I sensed that her heart had been instantly captured by this handsome, presentable, and attentive man.
They glanced at each other, then their eyes remained locked, like a long, drawn-out reflection between mirrors. They clearly saw another version of themselves in each other. A clock chimed evenly on the wall, and she sat on the sofa, feeling a nameless shudder and awe. Time seemed to shatter at the slightest touch. That night, she seemed possessed, almost in a daze.
They ignored me completely, drinking my family's beer and launching into long, rambling stories of university life. Her voice was loud and trembling, her eyes sparkling like a dove about to take flight. Xiao Wan swayed gently on the bar stool, and as she bent over, her skirt billowed open in front of him, revealing her thighs all the way to her lace-trimmed panties. My little sister was no less promiscuous than anyone else, even though I was certain she was a complete virgin.
That night, they talked until very late. Xiao Wan had initially agreed to stay at my place, but she quickly changed her mind and left together when Zhuo Qun returned. That night, my mood was extremely bad, so much so that my husband tried his best but couldn't arouse my desire. He was puzzled; normally, just being near me was enough to make me lose control and involuntarily moan. I was like a special, sensitive clam, so sensitive that the slightest touch from a man would cause its shell to open to its fullest extent.
******************************
The entire floor was deathly silent. We have a relaxed work schedule here in the summer, allowing employees enough sleep to combat the heat.
The boy before me always gave me a hazy, nostalgic feeling, like a lost dream. His long hair, his pale face, could instantly ignite a strong urge in me to embrace him, to think of nothing, to kiss away his melancholy.
I suddenly leaned in and quickly pecked his thin cheek. I brought my knees closer to him, reached for his jeans, and slowly unzipped them from top to bottom. My fair and delicate fingers grasped his genitals, which were hard and erect.
My hands didn't move, but my five fingers—to be precise, my index and middle fingers—were lightly tapping, like someone tapping a beat while listening to music. My tapping was on his manhood, already engorged and unusually thick, standing firm against his velvet fabric. I almost feared it would burst forth, growing wildly before his own eyes and mine.
He couldn't help but let out a soft moan. My hands unbuttoned his shirt, caressing his broad chest. His still somewhat immature body instantly soaked my genitals.
My whole body went limp, my eyes, filled with desire, fixed on him. Xiaoyang's boyish pursuit also brought me immense novelty and an inescapable thrill. I admitted to feeling pleasure from this stimulation, and I neither rejected nor loathed this rebellious pleasure. The wetness and warmth of his lips attracted me like the stamen of a strange flower; physical pleasure surged suddenly, and our tongues intertwined as smoothly as fine silk.
As I licked his bare chest with my tongue, he closed his eyes. He gently unbuttoned my sky-blue shirt and removed my bra. He placed a hand on my chest and gently pushed me, and I fell onto the sofa with a thud. He sat close beside me, placed his hands on my knees, and squeezed them together, causing my legs to spread naturally.
He began to caress my abdomen; his hands were strong, seemingly able to penetrate my flesh and enter my body. I was forced to straighten up, and he pulled me close, making it difficult for me to break free. Then he pressed his lips to mine, forcing his tongue into my mouth. Soon, my whole body went limp. At this moment, he pulled down my underwear, then unzipped his own pants, and pressed himself against me.
As Xiaoyang thrust forcefully and powerfully into my body, he softly murmured Xiaomei's name, again and again. His organs were incredibly gentle, forcing my name down my throat and shooting his own heartbeat into my womb.
I felt my whole body convulse violently, like a torrent bursting forth. Behind me, the glass reflected the radiant glow of our perfect bodies. A tiny bee buzzed against the sun-drenched, wine-colored windowpane. This tranquility was tangible, visible, occasionally spilling out like liquid. Making love with Xiaoyang was more wonderful than I had imagined. For
a
moment, I didn't understand why I hadn't experienced this kind of enjoyment in so long, the excitement and pleasure so intense, it surprised even myself. He belonged to me—his young, slender body, his silky smooth skin and the firm, smooth muscles beneath, all his vitality, all his tenderness, belonged to me, to be touched, possessed, and enjoyed.
My hands caressed Xiaoyang's entire body, his cheekbones, and at this moment, everything about him belonged to me. All of this ecstatically overwhelmed me; we devoured each other, our greed and desire merely masked by our civilized dance of love.
He lay on the sofa, and I stroked his thick hair. This lovemaking was truly wonderful; I often felt light and blissful afterward. My lovely, beautiful younger sister, Xiao Wan, was perhaps
anxiously , but the Prince Charming's passion remained within me, greatly satisfying my vanity in that instant.
From a young age, as the older sister, I had to learn tolerance and forbearance at home. Everything in the house—toys, food, even clothes—was chosen by Xiao Wan at her discretion before I could have any. And now, her boyfriend and her sister, in a space filled with lust, what were they doing, wholeheartedly? Melodious moans, music emanating from their reproductive glands, a faint fragrance—desire emboldened them, making them reckless and unrestrained.
We lay embraced on the narrow sofa, both exhausted from our lovemaking. Xiaoyang continued to caress my nipples and lips with his fingers, his legs draped between mine.
Unlike Zhuoqun, my husband was more reserved during sex, though he had also experienced ecstasy, he was more restrained than unrestrained. Xiaoyang, on the other hand, was like a blazing fire once he started. He completely melted me into his body; every movement, every gesture, brought me pleasure, as if my entire being, including my soul, had entered my body. I shifted my body, pressing one leg against his abdomen, and brought my lips together. His left hand encircled my neck, while his right hand first squeezed my breast, then moved between my thighs.
From the beginning, I harbored a somewhat unclear confusion about Xiaoyang. As Xiaowan's sister, I genuinely hoped he could become my brother-in-law, even though I secretly wished him well. But when I learned that Xiaowan was in a passionate relationship, I couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy and anxiety. Their relationship surprised me; it progressed so quickly, which strengthened my resolve to bring this boy into my arms.
At the bank, thanks to my help, Xiaoyang's work went relatively smoothly, and he even achieved some success. When he started working, he immediately adopted a mature yet indifferent expression. I sensed this change in him, feeling that this boy possessed a natural ability to blend in and adapt to his environment. His quick wit was evident in how he immediately integrated into the surrounding colors and atmosphere, as if he knew it by heart.
He also habitually treated my office as his own, often leaving his messy belongings there. Worse still, his athletic shoes, socks, and clothes were always filthy and reeked of sweat. He would also blatantly enter and leave my bathroom, sometimes even while showering.
"You can't always be so careless," I said. "You know that's my private space."
I saw his strong, well-proportioned body; it was the body of a man who had just finished exercising. In the sunlight, a few tiny water droplets shimmered and refracted light on his chest, slowly sliding down his taut skin, instantly revealing a kaleidoscope of colors.
I was momentarily stunned, a thought I'm sure every woman has experienced that strange absent-mindedness. He possessed a captivating radiance, a soft, fleeting glow like a rainbow. I dared not blink, knowing he would soon be dressed again, vanishing in an instant.
"Is there a difference between yours and mine?" His smooth-talking manner was already familiar. There was something unsettling about his casual demeanor, a hunter's unusual restraint before his beloved prey.
I sat in the high-backed swivel chair, the folder on my lap, my right hand on the backrest, the cleavage between my breasts deep, almost revealing half of one. It seemed to tremble as I looked at him. This boy's eyes flickered like dark flames, like an invisible net, capable of electrifying countless women.
I often felt his gaze, and I knew I deserved it. In any setting, in any environment, with my soft hair, pretty face, full thighs, and firm hips, which part of me wouldn't stir a man's heart? That's how I am, completely satisfying my desires with my own body. I feel a little dizzy, something is budding, something is flowing, flowing uncontrollably, flowing in the fragrant vortex of my body.
************
When I first met him, we didn't have that kind of intimate physical relationship, even though I had done a lot for this boy.
When he first arrived, he was assigned to the police force, wearing that preliminary police uniform, he looked quite dashing and extraordinary. I've had an inexplicable fascination with uniforms since I was little; as a girl, I respected and admired them. But as I grew up, and even after I became more mature, I had a rebellious and confused longing. I imagined what was different about a policeman in uniform in bed; perhaps he would treat every woman beneath him like a criminal and ruthlessly suppress her, his actions both harsh and prolonged. Even when I'm pulled over by the traffic cop for a traffic violation, a wonderful sensation rises to my tongue, and a peculiar warmth rises in my lower abdomen, like a hand is covering it.
Even after I assigned him to the loan department, I still regretted not having been intimate with him. I thought if he were in uniform standing before me, I'd be soaking wet within three seconds. Later, when the bank was allocating housing, someone as young and recent as him definitely wouldn't get a chance. I mobilized all my resources. It wouldn't work with General Manager Wang; his relationship with Xiaoyang was like a cat and mouse, always at odds and never reconciled. I had to use General Manager Wang's influence to persuade the other bank leaders one by one. When I finally got the keys to my new apartment, the boy was overwhelmed with excitement. At that moment, I felt I had completely captured his heart and soul.
"Sister Mei, I really want to give you something," he said, putting on his t-shirt.
"Really? I'd be very happy then. What's this?"
He took a beautifully wrapped box from his drawer, decorated with ribbons tied into small flowers.
I went over to the sofa and took his gift. As I opened it, his face flushed, and he nervously glanced back into the room. When I opened the box, I couldn't help but burst out laughing. He had given me two pairs of brightly colored panties. They were high-end, not ordinary panties. The small pieces of fabric were almost entirely made of lace, barely concealing anything.
"Do you know what kind of relationship it means to give a girl something like this?" I crossed my legs so his gaze could easily wander.
"I know, but I wanted to give it to you." He could be shy sometimes. "Do you like it?"
I looked at him and said sincerely, "I like it very much." Then I asked him, "Why did you give me this?"
"I don't think you've ever worn this kind before. There's a saying that it's called sexy panties. It's
the kind of ." He said, then paused, "And I like it too."
"Which kind of panties do you think I should wear?" I couldn't help but laugh. He was speechless. "Tell me, do you want to know?"
"Now?" He stammered, at a loss for words.
I spread my legs opposite him, and my already short skirt rode up even higher, revealing my tight, narrow panties. I saw him trembling with excitement, and beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. I quickly closed my legs. "I'm true to myself, don't misunderstand me, I still have taste."
Seeing his dumbfounded expression, I laughed heartily. I often enjoyed teasing men, and I especially loved seeing all men submit to me under my skirt. Especially boys like him in their adolescence, with Xiaoyang's eccentric and independent personality, were more prone to a strong desire to grow up, a desire marked by sexual maturity and experience. I thought he was about to lose control; a bulge appeared in his crotch, even though what was inside gave me a sudden surge of desire, and something swayed in my chest. At that moment, our bodies were both exceptionally sensitive, unseen tendrils reaching out to each other, subtly sensing that bewildering physiological urge. The love from our brains, however, instantly suppressed this impulse.
I gracefully walked away, giving him no chance to take advantage. I knew it wasn't the best time; rather than rushing things, I wanted him to savor the desire.
************
Xiaoyang went to Guangzhou for the weekend and called me before leaving. My whole family was at the dinner table at the time. I said to him irritably, "Go ahead and go, why tell me?"
My mother frowned at me, "What kind of person are you? Can't you speak properly?" She'd been staying with me lately; Mr. Wang had spent over 100,000 yuan renovating the old house to please her. It had also exhausted my husband, who was constantly calculating material costs, even keeping accounts in a notebook while in bed.
"It's nothing, just work," I said casually. Then I put down my rice bowl. My husband looked at me, puzzled. I could only smile at him and say, "I don't want to eat anymore."
"No, finish what's in your bowl."
That's how he is; he's incredibly attentive and caring towards me in every way. Even my mother, who was feeding our daughter, smiled.
Indeed, Zhuoqun is the discovery of my life; it's a perfect family. During the day, we're both busy with our own lives, and at night, Zhuoqun keeps me busy all night long. He never seems to be satisfied. Sometimes, while the children are watching TV, he locks me in the bathroom and buries his head between my breasts for a long time. He can't wait for me to go to bed every night; he wants to make love to me every night, even if I'm too tired to eat or sleep during the day. But I don't mind; I'm willing to make him happy and satisfied. When Zhuoqun entered our bedroom, I was wearing a bathrobe. I walked softly to him and said, "Hold me first." I knew Zhuoqun was eager to talk to me, and I excitedly imagined the passionate and extraordinary moment that was about to begin.
Years of marriage had taught me to instantly sense his sexual desires, and now, standing in the bedroom doorway, his eyes were filled with that longing. I was thrilled, unable to contain myself any longer; nothing could be more wonderful than the start of lovemaking. He was untying his tie, and I walked seductively to him, looped the tie around his neck, pulled it close, and kissed him passionately.
"I've missed you so much," he murmured, his voice low and trembling, his strong arms encircling me as he kissed me relentlessly. When I finally broke free from his embrace, he breathed heavily: "Good heavens, just being near you makes me need it."
He placed his hands on my chest, his fingers untying my silk bathrobe, fumbling with the buttons. "Hey, why are you wearing a buttoned bathrobe?" He pulled the bathrobe off my shoulders and draped it around my waist. Then, he stepped back a few paces, his eyes wide, and said, "No one should have breasts like these."
I smiled and said, "They're yours."
He knelt down, burying his face between my breasts. She said breathlessly, "I can't believe it. Every time I touch them, I can't believe it."
I gently cradled his head as he struggled to unbutton the rest of his bathrobe. Once the clothes were off, I stood naked before him, reaching up to remove the hair clip from my long hair, letting it cascade down my shoulders and breasts. Then, I went to the edge of the bed,
caressing my body. "None of it is yours, it's mine,"
he said, chasing after me. I deftly dodged him, rolling onto the bed. I stroked my thighs again, laughing wantonly, "But we want you."
He eagerly stripped off his clothes, coming naked before me. His broad chest was indeed
captivating, and I exclaimed sincerely, "You have a great body." Then, unhurriedly, I added, "But mine is even more beautiful, isn't it?"
I deliberately played with my breasts, already quite aroused. He stood there, watching, his breathing growing heavier, and lunged at me. But I escaped from the other end of the bed. He chased after me relentlessly, but I always managed to evade him. I stroked my body and laughed loudly. He continued to pursue me; I knew he was completely captivated by this new game, which was why he caught up with me. But when he was at his most excited, I broke free again.
Entering the bathroom, I knelt by the tub and hurriedly filled it with water for our double bath. When he came in, I was comfortably submerged in the huge tub, the fragrant foam reaching my shoulders. My full breasts stood high, but my nipples were small and round, like a young girl's. My lower abdomen was smooth and clean, and my navel was round like a full moon.
Zhuo Qun threw off his bathrobe, and I looked him up and down, his erection making me dizzy.
He laughed and slipped into the tub, the water splashing out with a loud, exaggerated sound that made my ears ring; I could almost hear my own heart pounding.
I laughed, playfully splashing water on his face, and when he didn't react, I puckered my lips high and opened my arms wide in a very affectionate gesture. He quickly leaned down and kissed my wet lips. When he embraced me again, I suddenly felt his fiery lips ignite my soul and boil my blood. I held him tightly, as if letting go would drown me.
He kissed my cheeks, lips, neck, and arms, his hands slowly caressing my soft, watery skin. Our bodies pressed together, we reveled in this beautiful moment.
"Xiaoyang wanted me to go to Guangzhou with him, but I thought we wouldn't be together for many days, so I didn't want to go anywhere," he said. Mentioning Xiaoyang's name brought me back to reality, and I felt a sudden sense of desolation.
My desire began to subside; the sound of the water was no longer pleasant, but rather unsettling, and a sense of indescribable desolation filled my heart. I didn't answer him, remaining quietly in the water, my arms floating half-submerged as if devoid of feeling. He kept stroking my back and patting my buttocks, gently rubbing my soft, supple skin.
"You said he and Xiao Wan have done 'that'?" After a long while, I finally opened my eyes and asked him softly.
"Not yet. He said he'd save it for a few years, to keep a glimmer of hope in his heart."
I chuckled, my mood brightening considerably. I said sincerely, "That guy, he really knows how to have fun."
"Then why don't I?" he said. He quickly came over and kissed my body, hoping to rekindle my passion,
and the bathtub began to churn with desire.
In his eyes, I saw the burning flames of his lust. I tilted my head, striking a provocative pose. He stood up, pulled me into a tight embrace, and pressed his lips against my lower abdomen, kissing me passionately. I returned his kiss with equal fervor, able to hear my own pulse.
"Darling, not here, to the bed,"
he said, helping me out of the bathtub and quickly drying me. He wiped my chin, neck, down my chest and groin, then turned me around, wiping from my heels, legs, and back down to my genitals. He also wiped my arms, from my fingertips and the backs of my hands to my armpits, where he exclaimed, "I don't know how you can be hairless here."
I let him rub me, feeling a tickle, and said, "A real beauty is hairless here."
We walked hand in hand to the bedroom.
"I've been missing it so much," I said in a coquettish voice, stroking his thick member.
He replied, "It belongs to you. Do whatever you want with it, even things I don't want to do." I tried to break free from him, swaying back and forth in his arms, my buttocks shaking rhythmically. He touched my body and my ears with his fingers.
"Let's have some fun," I said, hugging him tightly. "I'll drive you crazy."
He gently but firmly pulled me onto the bed. I knew that men were very particular about the atmosphere during sex; they usually didn't go straight for the ecstasy, but always built up the ambiance first. I was also enjoying every detail of the whole process.
He cupped my breasts, kneading and kissing them passionately. I felt the roughness of his movements, and soon his penis was erect.
I kissed his playful penis, and felt all the blood rush to my chest, crashing like a tidal wave. A burning sensation burst from my chest and shot up my throat. "Come on," I urged him, twitching my thighs.
He stood on the edge of the bed, attacking me fiercely. I liked it, so I closed my eyes, parted my lips slightly, and began to sway my body.
"Darling, this is so good," I said, my voice trembling, as I leaned back against him, my fingers digging tightly into his spine. After a flurry of thrusts, I felt like I was dying, my head slumped on his shoulder, and I said weakly, "Let me play on top for a while."
We switched positions and became one, and then he let himself go for my pleasure. I half-closed my eyes on top of him, my body swaying like a willow in the wind, my tongue involuntarily darting out, licking the corners of my mouth. My hands didn't know where to go, sometimes embracing the man, sometimes caressing myself with soft moans.
"Oh, my God, oh," I would let out unconscious moans whenever I felt overwhelmed by pleasure. I pressed myself against the man, feeling his immense pleasure erupting from him. A sweet and exhilarating sensation surged through me like a tidal wave, leaving me feeling empty inside, as if my whole body was about to take flight. As I lay down on top of him, he breathed heavily, seemingly exhausted: "You're a natural beauty."
I relaxed completely, lying on the bed with my limbs spread out side by side, savoring the moment as I said, "It felt so good." I lovingly embraced him, my heart overflowing with joy. My hands continued to caress his body, and noticing a slight sheen of sweat on his back, I casually grabbed a pillowcase and gently wiped it away.
(IV)
In bed, we were like a match made in heaven, perfectly in sync, considerate and tender towards each other, both feeling exceptionally happy. After making love, I liked to lie in his arms, sharing the post-coital excitement with him. I hugged him and said, "Something's wrong with me. I can't get enough of love, I can't be satisfied. I guess I'm a sex maniac."
He stroked my smooth body and said, "That's wonderful, I love it."
I kissed his chest and stomach. Then I climbed out of bed and went naked to the window with the thick curtains drawn. He lazily got up, walked behind me, hugged me, and reached out to touch my breasts. I giggled, gazing at him, my tanned skin soft and shiny, incredibly sexy. I straightened up and turned to let him kiss me.
A strange tranquility filled our bedroom. The air was thick with the scents of perfume, air conditioning, sweat, and the subtle, lingering aroma of bodily fluids, clinging to us like wisps of mist from a celestial palace, persistent and ethereal. I could feel his eyelashes fluttering gently against my neck, and a warm tenderness welled up within me. One hand slowly pressed against his lower abdomen, while the other touched his buttocks.
These were moments when my emotions were at their peak, as if I had entered a wondrous world. After each satisfying sexual encounter, my inspiration flowed like a spring, a stream. This was the result of my body's excessive liberation. I quietly pieced together the ambitions and yearnings shattered by the storms of love.
My husband leaned over me several times, his arms encircling my slender waist, his head resting on my full breasts, asking what I was thinking.
I twirled his thick hair with my fingers, smiled slightly, shook my head, and said, "Nothing." I silently returned his tender, sweet kiss. Even amidst the passionate intimacy, the tender kisses, and
the frenzied, tumultuous lovemaking of my husband, a lingering sense of loss remained within me. In fact, it was precisely during these moments of unbridled passion that this lingering loss became even more pronounced, like a submarine surfacing.
I didn't truly understand myself. Sometimes, in certain situations, what I needed was sex, pure sex. Sexual satisfaction and pleasure. Other times, in other situations, what I needed was simply vanity, pure vanity. When these two needs simultaneously arose in my physical and psychological state, it was like being raped—initially resisting and struggling, then submitting and cooperating, and finally writhing and greedily yielding.
******************************************
Mr. Wang still stubbornly awaited his mother's summons. Sometimes he would ask me what she had been doing lately, who she had gone out with, and so on. At those times, his foolish expression seemed almost laughable to me. Sometimes he would invite me to certain places, but he rarely made any demands on me; at most, it would be harmless cuddling and touching.
With Wang Xiangzhong, I felt that all men's penises were the same, the difference being their length, thickness, firmness, and limpness. But men themselves were incredibly diverse. For me, the pleasure and arousal of intercourse seemed to come primarily from the man himself, not from his penis. Even if he wasn't fully inside me, the psychological satisfaction would bring me to a high level of arousal and complete fulfillment.
At those times, I would always seize the opportunity to make reasonable requests, such as needing a loan extension for a company, needing additional funding for a new project, personnel changes in the bank, or someone's promotion. He would usually readily agree. A feeling of triumph, a mixture of self-admiration
and secret pride, often found in victors, would suddenly fill my chest. My sense of female dignity, self-confidence, ambition, and unrestrained nature began to gradually return and reappear.
When Mr. Wang and I were about halfway through our dinner in a hotel private room we both knew, after all the dishes we ordered had been served, he lifted my skirt, deftly pulled down my underwear, crumpled it up, and stuffed it into his back pocket. Then, with incredible strength, he lifted me up and, without a word, pulled me onto his lap.
We kissed, one hand lightly around me, the other slipping under my skirt and gently biting and sucking
my tongue. I reacted strongly, slipping my hand inside his shirt from his chest, scratching at the muscles of his chest with my nails.
At that moment, he received a phone call. Judging from his beaming face, I guessed it was his mother calling. He said smugly into the phone, "I'm having dinner with Xiao Mei." There was no flirtatiousness on his face. He wrapped one arm around my bare waist from behind. He leaned down to press his face against mine, his breath hot and reeking of alcohol.
"No, no, the guests have all left. Wait for me downstairs, I'll be right there." His words sounded like those of a desperate man seeking pleasure. I pushed him away, took my underwear from his back pocket and put it on, straightening
my clothes. "I'll take you home," he said.
"I'm not going back. You go." Seeing his hurried departure, a sour feeling welled up inside me, and at the same time, I felt a surge of my mother's allure. I crossed my arms and
glared at him with a disapproving look, as if I were the owner of the place, glaring at a customer who not only ate for free but also lingered after finishing. Actually, I couldn't wait for him to leave. I had said what I needed to say and done what I needed to do during the meal, but I still had to pretend to be bored and helpless.
I called Xiaoyang over to continue the unfinished dinner. He readily agreed, and my heart swelled with smugness, pleasure, and joy. Before he arrived, I was slumped on the sofa, looking listless—a listlessness that, in fact, fueled my passion. A bottle of red wine sat within easy reach of my right hand. This was my weakest moment, and also my most narcissistic. I fantasized that at this moment, a man would push open the door, walk over, lift my clothes, and, like digging for treasure, unearth the most secret places of my body with ecstatic ecstasy. I imagined myself trembling like a flower petal in his rough hands, crushed and crushed; I imagined my eyes, wet with shame under the light; my lips opening and closing like a tide; my legs writhing and opening in the direction of pleasure.
A knock sounded, and I opened the door. I found him standing outside, wearing a black t-shirt and beige cotton trousers. His dashing, youthful appearance remained unchanged, regardless of time, place, air, or morality.
I looked at him, a weak, feeble smile appearing on my face. "Hi," I said.
My hand hovered over the doorknob, not immediately realizing whether to invite him in. At that moment, Xiao Wan's face flashed into my mind, damp and slightly flushed, like the sky in the rainy season. Every girl in this city would like a boy like Xiao Yang. He represented dreams, romance, ecstasy, and sexiness—a charming and rare bad boy.
"May I come in?" he asked softly.
I stepped aside, closing the door behind him. He went straight to the sofa and sat down with great elegance. I didn't know what to do, looking at him blankly. I knew that at that moment, a blue flame burned in my eyes, rising from the darkness and settling back down. I tried to keep my mind clear, despite a premonition that something was about to happen.
He sat down in front of me. I smiled; a sense of superiority due to my age always made my smile gentle.
In my eyes, he was definitely a cool-looking virgin. "I like you," I said suddenly. He was stunned; perhaps he now felt that what I said was irresponsible, like a frivolous woman.
What happened next was like a pornographic film. I became a beautiful, experienced enchantress, captivating him with my body and imagination. His head was pressed against the massive TV cabinet, and I, in a near-murderous manner, stripped him of his virginity. A seductive yet poisonous fragrance filled my nostrils; I was dizzy. He offered no resistance, succumbing to the tide, offering his virginity to the enchantress he had long admired. Xiaoyang was practically bewildered when he made love with me, bewildered yet overjoyed. He was a virgin, I sensed that. While I can't say he'd never been intimate with a woman, I believe it was always something beyond physical contact.
To prove himself to me as a wonderful, perfect man, he unleashed the power of a man who had long been preparing for lovemaking. Facing a woman of exceptional beauty, he would typically give his all in that moment.
One-third was instinct, one-third was passion, and one-third was indirect experience from sexual descriptions he'd read or seen in magazines, novels, and on television. All of this combined made him appear flawless and exceptionally beautiful on a very pretty woman. At least, that's what he thought. But I didn't think so; his strange, childlike, vulnerable nakedness made him seem more like an excited lover than any other man.
The moment he touched me, he was already completely overwhelmed. I couldn't reach the ultimate pleasure; his childlike softness ignited my burning desire. I felt the sudden shiver as he ejaculated. In a wild frenzy, I swayed and heaved my hips, craving him to continue. He stood tall and proud inside me with unwavering determination and a willingness to sacrifice, until I reached the pinnacle of satisfaction with a strange, subtle moan, then his thrusting slowed.
"You're a bad woman," he said, looking into his nearsighted yet sexy eyes.
"You're a bad boy too," I said gently.
Then we tidied ourselves up and left the private room. Unlike our first encounter in the elevator, I looked at the tall boy's face with an absent-minded yet incredibly sexy expression—a mature playboy's trademark.
"You're adorable. Not only are you beautiful, but you also have that aloofness that men find attractive." His eyes darted around under the light, a nervous excitement in them.
I chuckled, my eyes sparkling with charm. The pale purple light shone above us, indicator lights showing the ascending floors, and in the silence, I felt a momentary sense of weightlessness.
As the car drove onto the elevated highway, I saw a sea of lights, so brilliant, so astonishing. I imagined how many stories were unfolding in every corner of the city, how much clamor, turmoil, and battle, how much unimaginable emptiness, indulgence, and lovemaking.
The next day at work, Xiaoyang came to my office again. I was on a very important phone call. He picked me up and placed me on my desk. I held a copy of my phone in one hand and gripped his shoulder with the other. His head nestled against my stomach, his tongue licking my private parts through my underwear, making me incredibly itchy and weak all over. I tried to keep my voice down to mask the turmoil within me. A surge of pleasure rose from the soles of my feet, and I decisively ended the call.
We were pressed close together, face to face, our bodies pressed tightly together. His lower body was completely against mine; I could feel its pressure, and I wanted to separate it but couldn't. He seemed very excited; a strange reaction made his blood rush through his veins, then flood his entire body. At the same time, I felt his penis rapidly swelling and pressing tightly against my erection. He took the opportunity to launch a covert attack.
I could feel it already erect and blocking my vulva, and with a few squeezes, it seemed poised to penetrate through my clothes. Just then, I suddenly felt his penis throb, and a warm sensation in the area of contact. "He's ejaculated." This information instantly entered my brain. I felt dizzy, and my lower body involuntarily met his throbbing member, letting him ejaculate, drop by drop. Waves of red flushed my face, and I could only keep my eyes tightly shut.
"Do you still want me?" I asked tenderly. He nodded firmly. "Not here. To my house."
I let him push and shove me into the car, which sped away like an arrow. I could only feel the shops and pedestrians flashing by on both sides of the street. Xiaoyang seemed to be racing against time, recklessly disregarding everything. We kissed all the way, teetering on the edge of excitement, our passionate embrace like dancing on a knife's edge, both painful and pleasurable.
I was fumbling for my keys at the door when he stood behind me, his hand on my waist, gently caressing my plump buttocks. My hands trembled, my whole body was so excited that I couldn't concentrate on aiming at the keyhole, and several times the key slipped past its edge. I reached behind me and grabbed his hand, saying, "You're distracting me."
"You mean you're impulsive?" He hugged me, took the keys, and opened the door in one swift motion.
"You want me not to distract you?" he said, simply using his shoulder to push the door open.
“No, I didn’t mean that at all.” I turned to him, wrapping my arms around his neck, my soft belly pressed tightly
against his body. “You always excite me. I think if you let go of me now, I’ll definitely collapse to the ground; my legs have no strength at all. Let’s go inside quickly.”
We still held each other tightly as we went into the house. Xiaoyang didn’t even look back; he just turned slightly, kicked the door shut, and slammed it shut. His desire was already aroused, and he couldn’t control himself. I seemed to have expected him to do this, and I said, “Don’t be in such a hurry.” But my body was limp.
Those strong arms held me tightly, and then he pressed his lips to mine. In his teasing kiss, I felt no strength to struggle, letting his tongue enter my mouth, then my neck, and then down there.
Xiaoyang gently led my hand to his crotch, letting me squeeze it. "Oh," I let out a soft moan. What a vibrant life it was, so proud and powerful in my palm! This was the vitality of youth, always so strong, robust, and arrogant.
A surge of pleasure and satisfaction welled up inside me. This proud boy, you've finally willingly made love to me. Watching his moving hands, his rising and falling body, his rapid breathing—all of this filled me with immense satisfaction.
Almost violently, he ripped off his clothes in a few swift movements, leaving us naked, glistening like two peeled, fresh lychees. Then, he kissed my lips, my breasts. His hand, however, slid down to my lower body, down to my wet, burning vulva. He dipped his fingers in the peach juice, plucking and caressing like a harp. He stimulated me, causing me to writhe and thrust my hips, finally arching my back to allow my vulva to make better contact with his fingers, bringing it even more intense pleasure. Finally, Xiaoyang's thick member entered my vulva. The instant it entered, I felt an orgasm. My fingernails dug into the flesh of his shoulder, but this strong boy showed no mercy to the woman beneath him, like a violent storm assaulting a delicate flower.
I gasped softly, my contractions fueling his desire to conquer, his thrusts becoming even more rapid. "I feel so good, I'm dying!" I cried out, my eyes hazy and flushed. This was like a command to charge him. He first thrust into me with lightning speed, then followed with gentle, rotating caresses. I felt myself sinking into a most intoxicating, soul-stirring quagmire, feeling a powerful churning that made me roll and tumble like waves of heat. My imagination soared. I felt he was a hero, shouldering a grand task of cultivation. The beautiful woman was like a barren plain, yearning for his tireless, persistent plow.
He was aroused once more, cultivating me even deeper.
After multiple climaxes, I became excited again. I gave it my all, revealing myself: the tender tendrils gently kissed his thick, dark pubic hair, the moist petals slowly soaked the unruly little bird, and the honeyed passage of love fluid tightly embraced the pillar of life, soothing, rotating, resisting, and teasing. Finally, in a sudden, intense tremor, I suckled at him. In that sudden, hot surge, I was almost overwhelmed by a violent ejaculation, followed by convulsions and swallowing. I was reborn, a woman blissfully happy.
It felt like half a century before Xiaoyang left me, walking naked to the kitchen. He brought me a Coke, handed it to me, and asked, half-jokingly, half-seriously, "I really don't know how to face your sister."
I lay half-reclined on the sofa, looking utterly timid. I took a sip of Coke: "You naughty boy, you're getting the better end of the deal and still acting innocent."
Suddenly, as if discovering a new continent, he said to me, "Just lie there and don't move."
I finished my Coke and lay there, the previous pleasure still lingering in my body.
Xiaoyang took a rose from the cabinet and gently placed it to my lips: "Sister Mei, suck on it, and
you'll be as beautiful as it."
I put the flower in my mouth; its red petals complementing my pretty face created a different kind of charm.
He plucked all the petals from the remaining flowers and gently scattered them on my body, my chest, and my thighs. He then lay down beside me, and the two of us, inhaling the fragrance of the flowers, quietly enjoyed the tranquility after the storm.

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