A woman's account of having an affair

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

I was born in 1992. I was an only child, and both my parents worked for companies. Due to strict policies at the time, they didn't have a son until 2006. Being an only child, I was pampered at home. I was obedient, had decent grades, and got into university. I'd rate my looks a 6 out of 10; I'm tall and well-proportioned, have good skin, and a B-cup. I didn't date in university, though I had suitors and we'd chat late into the night under the stars. Back then, I hadn't watched porn, but I'd seen pictures in messages in bottles and tried to passively accept some online flirting. My sexual knowledge mostly came from erotic novels. As you know, erotic novels often have more imagination and are more unrestrained than porn. Later, a client pursued me, and my feeling towards him was, "He's my type."

After we became a couple, it was probably similar to most people's experiences: kissing, touching breasts, touching vaginas, oral sex, blowjobs, and finally, intercourse. I'm not afraid to admit it, but what I loved most back then was sucking his penis; I did it every day.

Then, we met each other's parents. His family wasn't particularly well-off, but they were okay; they owned a house in a major city. Then we moved in together. That period was the happiest time of our lives. We'd go to work separately, have sex when we got home, and then go out for dinner. We'd shower together at night and have sex. If I couldn't sleep at night, I'd lick his penis until it was hard, sit on him, and have sex. We'd roll around in the living room, I'd get penetration from behind while he was cooking, we'd watch porn together and learn positions, I'd go shopping in skirts without underwear, he'd tease me with his fingers through my pants on the subway and bus, we tried having sex outdoors, we tried oral sex and swallowing his semen. We did everything except anal sex.

Then, our baby daughter was born. I have to say, I was lucky; my husband has always been good to me, and he always sides with me when there are minor conflicts at home. I quit my job and went back to my hometown to take care of the baby. With my parents' help, I really couldn't have managed. My husband only comes home for three to five days a month. I started to have a low libido. I don't know why, but my husband ejaculates quite quickly now, without the rough, frenzied thrusting he used to do, and he never brings me to orgasm again.

Around this time, a male colleague who used to pursue me suddenly started chatting with me frequently. To be honest, I didn't really like him. But out of politeness, I usually responded to him. The scariest thing about chatting is that it becomes a habit. Habits turn into dependence. In this process, I didn't dislike him as much anymore. I got used to it and wasn't too bothered by his less-than-ideal looks. Besides, he was indeed eloquent and patient enough to chat with me slowly.

Then he treated me to two meals. The first time, he paid for me, and during the meal, he insisted on sitting next to me with one hand on my waist. I could only pretend that I was focused on replying to other people's WeChat messages and didn't pay much attention to it. Before leaving, he kissed my cheek, and I pinched my arm hard. The second time we ate together, I offered to treat him back, and he ended up paying. I drove to pick him up. Then he said it was still early and suggested we go for a walk in the park. Later, it started raining, so we went to sit in a pavilion to wait for the rain to stop. When I went in, I found two other people there. I didn't know if they were a couple or a married couple, but they looked to be in their forties. He naturally sat down next to me and put his hand on my back. They seemed to think we were a couple too. At this point, I just went with the flow. After the couple left, he sat closer and closer to me. I couldn't stand it anymore and suggested we go back. He was clearly disappointed. On the way back, we each went to the restroom, and when he came out, he was waiting for me. As we walked, he touched my vest and said, "You're so thin." His hand moved down to touch my buttocks, saying, "You don't even have any meat on your butt." This was really inappropriate, but I foolishly didn't scold him because he only lingered for two or three seconds. Instead, I went along with his topic and brought up the fact that I wasn't thin. As we walked, he casually put his hand on my shoulder and, when I wasn't looking, grabbed my breast, saying, "You really are a bit thin, plus your bra isn't big." At this point, I shook off his hand, and he pulled me, hugged me, and kissed me. This time, I didn't push him away anymore, and his hand touched my breasts again, lightly grabbing them through my bra. He wasn't satisfied with just that. I could feel that in the short time I was passively kissing him with my eyes closed, his right hand went from touching my breasts to pulling open my clothes and reaching inside my bra to touch my breasts directly. A few seconds later, he pulled up my skirt, past my safety shorts and underwear, and went straight to my clitoris. Then, without delay, two fingers entered my body and began to thrash around. The whole process probably lasted no more than thirty seconds before another man violated my most private parts. I have to admit, there was pleasure and shame, so I didn't righteously refuse, and he naturally assumed I was willing. He turned around and pulled me towards the toilet, but I suddenly knew what he wanted to do, and I refused to go in, squatting down directly. He tried to persuade me, but I just wouldn't go in. Finally, he gave in, saying that we could go to a dark place nearby so he could touch me a little more. I was led to a dark place by him. He kissed me and touched me again. Because one hand was touching my breasts and the other my lower body, I couldn't stand steadily, so he told me to hold onto a tree and then came behind me to take off my pants. I refused, so he compromised and said that taking off my safety shorts would be fine. After I took them off, he continued to touch me. I leaned forward, holding onto the tree, and his hand reached over my buttocks from behind to touch my clitoris. I could clearly hear the wet sound of his fingers going in and out. Suddenly, his hand reached in from the front, forcing him to bend down and get closer. His breath tickled my neck, and just as I noticed this, something shot straight to my core, instantly penetrating my body. I struggled and shook my head, but I couldn't overcome the strong hands around my waist. That hot, hard penis remained firmly inside me, refusing to retreat. We didn't speak during this time. Once I stopped resisting, he used one hand to support me, and the other to grasp my breast, beginning his formal assault. No technique, no fancy moves, each thrust was forceful and deep. I experienced the feeling of flying on clouds once again. Midway through, he pulled out, took off my underwear, turned me over, lifted my thighs, and entered again. This time, due to the position, he couldn't go too fast until the coolness of the rain-soaked tree behind me, seeping through my thin clothes, brought me back to my senses. "Don't ejaculate inside." He grunted in a nasal voice and continued his relentless assault. Not fast, but each time he firmly invaded to the deepest point. During the final sprint, he kissed me, pulled out, held the gun in his right hand, and filled my emptiness with three fingers of his left. He fired at the grass nearby.

The war was over, we went to the toilet to clean up, and then he got into my car and went home. How to put it? It would be a lie to say I was completely passive in this affair. From an inner desire perspective, there was anticipation involved, but in reality, one always needs to find a way to make oneself feel at ease. So, my so-called violation was actually a desire for him to violate me, a desire for him to continue violating me even after I refused. It's like being a prostitute while maintaining a virtuous image. As for what happened afterward, I never met him again. We remained good friends on WeChat, mostly talking about ordinary things, only occasionally asking questions that I would only ask close men. As for whether I would have sex with him again, I think if he continues to flirt with me, there's a high probability we would, but definitely not frequently. As for whether I would have sex with other people, I can only say that I might meet someone good and have casual sex, but I wouldn't be his lover. I love my husband, I love my daughter. Having sex with others is just a matter of lustful curiosity. Trying it occasionally is possible, but to actually do it openly is something I can't overcome my conscience. This is me, an ordinary wife, an ordinary unfaithful woman.

[The End]

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A woman's account of having an affair

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