A mature woman in her forties

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

In the summer of 2015, I was using WeChat's "People Nearby" feature when I found a woman around forty years old near me. Her profile picture was quite alluring, so I sent her a greeting, and to my surprise, she accepted the request easily.
After becoming friends, we exchanged questions and chatted about random things. Since I lived alone at the time, I asked her to meet me at the park that evening, and she readily agreed.
At the park, we walked side-by-side along the paths, eventually reaching a stone bench. I suggested we sit down and rest. We sat down side-by-side, and
at my prompting, she began to tell her story.
When she was thirty, she met a college student on QQ. They chatted intensely, and unsurprisingly, met in person, went to a hotel, and because they were so reckless, her husband found out. This woman divorced her husband, abandoned her two children who were still in school, and went to work in Shenzhen with the college student. Now, ten years later, the college student had returned to his hometown, married, and completely lost contact with her.
She started to cry as she spoke of her heartbreak. I instinctively pulled her into my arms and gently comforted her, but inwardly I was thinking how utterly exasperating this woman was. She'd abandoned her family, wasting ten precious years of her youth (from 30 to 40), and now, abandoned again, she'd returned to her hometown.
There's always a reason why someone is pitiful.
Gradually, she stopped crying, and I said there were a lot of mosquitoes around, so we should leave.
We walked to the bus stop outside, and I waited for the bus, and she waited too. A little while later, my bus arrived, and I asked her if she wanted to come to my place. She nodded in agreement, so I took her back to my rented apartment.
I lived on the top floor, and the stairwell had no lights, making it easy to slip and fall. Naturally, I held her hand as we went up.
When we arrived at my apartment, we sat down in the living room, and she began to recount her experiences of the past ten years. As she spoke, she started crying again, and I held her in my arms to comfort her.
Since we were already embracing, my hands naturally couldn't stay still. With my left arm around her, my right hand reached over and touched her breasts. She was wearing a full-coverage bra, but I could still feel her breasts were quite large.
Her hands resisted, but I grabbed them and placed them on my penis, which was already hard. I said, "I haven't had sex in so long, please help me."
She didn't speak, but she didn't resist anymore either.
I pulled her up from the sofa and towards the bedroom, embracing her from behind, my hard penis pressing against her buttocks, and pushed her into the bedroom.
Once inside, I pushed her onto the bed and took off my pants first. After I did, she remembered, so I pushed her back down onto the bed, lifted her skirt, and took off her underwear. During this process, she only covered her face with her hands.
After taking off her underwear, I aimed directly at her opening and thrust in all the way in. Only after penetrating her did I realize she was already soaking wet.
Only after penetrating her did I start taking off her skirt and my own clothes. After unhooking her bra, I grasped her breasts. They were large, but soft and not firm, suggesting she'd had plenty of sex with that college student over the past ten years. She later told me that, except during her period, that student practically had sex with her once or twice a day.
Her vagina was wet and warm, but very loose; after all, she'd had two children and had been sexually exploited for so long, it would be strange if it wasn't loose.
I penetrated her for over ten minutes without feeling anything, while she reached orgasm on her own.
Finally, I came up with a plan. Since my bedroom faced the street, with the window directly opposite, I had her face the window, opened the curtains slightly, and fucked her from behind. Under this stimulation, I fucked her for a few more minutes, ejaculating inside her.
Afterward, I played with her breasts for a while, then she started getting dressed, saying she wanted to go home. I didn't try to stop her, because I didn't want to fuck her all night; her vagina was too loose for me to enjoy anymore.
After she got home, she texted me saying I was heartless for not asking her to stay. I didn't reply.
The next day I found out she had blocked me, but I didn't care, since I had already slept with her anyway.

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A mature woman in her forties

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