Extramarital Affairs (Part 1)

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

Author: Going Out with a Knife, Not a Girl
Published: 2016/8/19 First Post
Word Count: 5496
Chapters 1-7 of this article are posted on the second floor. Because the posting intervals were too long,
I'm posting them together for easy reference. The writing style is a separate narrative from the male and female protagonists' perspectives.
It's just an experiment, a practice piece. Thank you!
Chapter 8
: No matter how wide Kuan's appearance still made me uneasy, just like the rumors about Mei. Even if I chose not to
believe them, even if I still trusted Mei, I still felt a sense of crisis. I don't know if my repeated avoidance and
wavering confidence were because I was being driven away by this sense of crisis.
In front of Mei, I always felt a vague sense of inferiority. I don't know why, it seems
innate. I cherish her like a pearl, respect her like a goddess, and cannot tolerate even the slightest disrespect
or desecration towards her.
I don't know if my love for her is one of looking up to her. No matter what the reason for her favor towards me,
I always feel as if I've been given air, able to breathe smoothly. If she is water, then I am a fish; she is
my ever-present sunshine. Without this sunshine, how can I, a blade of grass, grow?
I
listened absentmindedly to the sales manager assigning tasks, not absorbing a single word. Even after the meeting ended,
my colleagues were still bustling about in the conference room, noisily discussing sales strategies. I
left the conference room alone, feeling my own anxiety. I scrambled to the rooftop,
took a few deep drags on my cigarette, and felt a burning sensation spread through my tongue, seemingly easing my heart. I flicked the cigarette
butt away, leaving a trail of sparks as it fell to the ground, bounced twice, and landed in a drainpipe
.
That day, after seeing Kuan off, Mei and I remained silent. Mei took the ashtray from the coffee table and emptied it.
In the ashtray were several cigarette butts Kuan had left behind. From those cigarettes, stubbed out after only a few puffs, their twisted
shapes revealing Kuan's anxiety. Mei put the ashtray back on the coffee table, and I stubbed out my cigarette, which I'd only taken a few puffs of,
in the ashtray.
Mei glanced at me and said, "I didn't know he'd come?"
"How long has it been?" I tried to remain calm.
"Several months." Mei shifted her gaze somewhat awkwardly.
"You two met?" I pressed.
"Yes." Mei answered softly, her head lowered.
"When?" I managed to squeeze out the question. "I
took some time off during a business trip recently. I wanted to see Fei'er." She added,
avoiding eye contact.
My heart tightened. I knew Mei had gone on a business trip recently, but her destination wasn't Kuan's city , though it wasn't far away, and the trip lasted a week. A week—anything could happen in that time. I 　　couldn't imagine
what it might be like . 　　My understanding of reality began in high school. Reality is a stark, cold, and cruel reality. 　　When 　　facing it, sages taught us to fight, never bow our heads, and never give up. But to me, it was more 　　of a struggle, or rather, a futile struggle, because reality carries more of a sense of helplessness—a bottomless helplessness 　　, a hopeless helplessness, a helplessness beyond resistance. 　　Where was my reality at seventeen? From here, I sit before the hotel vanity mirror, looking at my thirty-year-old 　　self. A perfectly sculpted face, a high, proud nose, a few strands of damp hair dangling from my forehead, 　　fiery red lips with a cold, slightly upturned corner. I unfold the towel wrapped around my body, revealing my firm, full breasts, two prominent 　　, deep red nipples, seemingly telling tales of past events. Why aren't these alluring breasts 　　his sole possession…? 　　A pair of captivating, deep, and alluring eyes in the mirror, through that gaze… Deeper and deeper, deeper 　　and deeper, time seemed to rewind in the silent void, endlessly rewinding, rewinding, rewinding. I saw 　　my lonely seventeen-year-old self, lingering before a Red Cross door, my heart-wrenching cries like the wailing of ghosts, 　　surging towards me in a chaotic torrent. I saw tears of unbearable pain falling onto my heart, tears that continue to fall even now. For countless 　　long nights, these tears have fallen endlessly, tearing at me, grinding me, shattering me, mercilessly, cruelly 　　, crushing me underfoot, leaving not a trace of mercy. 　　Reality doesn't weave myths, life doesn't believe in legends. 　　I don't know what kind of woman I am. Perhaps I'm a woman who likes men, especially very 　　handsome men. Is it wrong to like men? Aren't women born to like men? I 　　asked myself these questions again, but in the eyes of the world, I couldn't find the answer. I still remember my 　　first love in high school, and that sports student named Jian, the man etched in my memory for life. 　　Summer is always hot. In the classroom with dozens of students, the ceiling fans, running slowly due to low voltage, could 　　n't dispel the persistent heat. I was wearing a pink pleated skirt. 　　I walked to my seat, lifted it up, revealing only a small pair of underwear underneath, and plopped down. My skin touched the cool chair 　　, and I felt a chill run through me. Looking at the other girls sitting around me, skirts still on, 　　I thought they probably weren't as cool as me. 　　In the last row of the classroom, there was always a subtle gaze fixed on me. I didn't know 　　when he started watching me. I checked repeatedly and realized the gaze came from Jian, a tall, strong, 　　athletic student. His eyes swept over my skirt, which I had lifted behind me; he must have noticed my 　　little trick to cool off. I felt inexplicably flushed and my heart race, unsure if it was because of my actions or 　　because of the sudden discovery of a handsome face I hadn't noticed before. 　　At noon, after lunch, I realized I had forgotten something. I walked back to the classroom and saw Jian sitting 　　next to me, staring blankly at my seat. I walked over, and he hurriedly stood up, brushing 　　past me. I went to my seat and looked at the spot where Jian had been staring. For a moment, I felt embarrassed, and my mouth...

My eyes widened 　　in surprise, revealing a clear buttock imprint on my seat. The two thighs, spread apart, were exceptionally clear , though the area between them was somewhat blurred – a result of the heat from my buttocks being warm for so long. I felt my face flush red,
and shame and helplessness made me cry in that instant. I had never felt so ashamed in my entire life.
This became a deep-seated ache in my heart, and also a secret between him and me. Jian was a shy man; he
would only watch me from afar, his eyes melancholic and affectionate. I was repeatedly moved by those eyes, and every time I saw him
, my heart pounded like a deer. His lack of initiative deeply annoyed me, yet my heart never stopped fluttering.
In PE class, practicing forward rolls, several PE students from the class were positioned at one end of the mat for protection.
It was my turn. Jian was at the other end. I walked nervously to the mat. Urged on by the teacher, my
mind went blank. I ran a few steps and jumped out, only to find that I had no idea what to do next
. I landed on the mat in an extremely awkward split. The mat was actually very thin, barely
enough to keep our clothes from getting dusty. The pain from that hard landing was unimaginable. Just then,
a lithe figure suddenly leaped under me. It was Jian. He caught me with his body.
We collided violently, and I fell headfirst into his arms. His earlier exertion had left
him drenched in sweat, the strong, pungent smell of which, combined with his intense masculinity, assaulted my senses. I had never known
such a captivating scent existed; I was completely mesmerized. My limp body wouldn't move,
my heart pounded wildly, almost bursting from my chest. Time seemed to stand still, suffocating me. All I wanted was to stay
in his arms forever, never to get up. His chest was so firm, so warm. My face was burning hot
.
After that, I became infatuated. Whenever he passed by, his pleasant scent
would waft through the air, making my legs weak and unable to move.
I knew I was doomed, inevitably falling for him. Fallen in his casual gaze,
captivated by his heartbreakingly alluring face in the sunlight. Even a simple word from him lingered in my mind,
each detail of his clothing bearing his mark, striking me, striking me again
. His shadow was everywhere in my crumbling world. He was omnipresent; he was in my morning reflections, on the tip of my pen as I wrote,
on my glistening breasts as I lathered with soap, on my fingertips as they brushed against my genitals. Every moan of climax
was a desperate call to him. Climax after climax, and I grew ever more insatiable.
Everything unfolded so naturally. One moonlit night, he kissed me in the grove behind the campus
. He asked me out, and then kissed me. My face flushed crimson with shyness, and my heart pounded wildly
. His large tongue plunged deep into my mouth, teasing and probing. He must be an expert. This rascal!
His earlier shyness was all an act. How come I never noticed before? His large hands slipped
under my skirt, almost completely covering my buttocks. He pinched and squeezed my flesh, his palms
rubbing eagerly against my thin panties. I shamelessly became wet.
I tried to cry out, but his mouth, covering half my face, rendered me helpless. This
wicked guy, doing something naughty, his fingers, along with the thin fabric of my panties, shoved inside. A jolt of electricity shot up from below
, piercing me. I went limp, lost in a daze. I was absolutely certain he was a bad guy. My clenched
fists weakly pounded his back. I was both ashamed and angry at myself for being fooled earlier.
He pulled down his long basketball shorts, gripped his long, nasty member, and shoved my underwear aside
. His enormous glans scraped against my tender flesh. I panicked and struggled to break free, slapping him across the face
and desperately trying to escape his grasp. This bastard! I couldn't let him succeed! No, no! I cried out in despair
.
But the thick-skinned thing remained unmoved. Its dangerous glans found its way into my honeypot,
its sweet spot, and thrust in forcefully. I stumbled back, only to be slammed against
the tree trunk behind me. I looked down, my voice trembling with tears. The thing, as thick as a baseball bat, its glans half-submerged, the swollen,
purplish-red corona protruding from its surface—its outline was almost a full circle larger than my vagina. How could it possibly get in? A sense of
extreme danger washed over me. Before I could even react, with a soft "plop" sound, accompanied by
the sound of fluid being squeezed out of my vagina, the thick, fleshy rod with its coiled veins plunged deep inside. A tearing
pain shot through my nerves, and crimson blood dripped down the shaft, falling from my long, drooping testicles and
onto the silvery grass bathed in moonlight.
My eyes widened in terror, my mouth gaping open—or rather, widened by
the force of his penetration—my face contorted. With a sudden, powerful thrust, my still somewhat slender body was lifted off the ground,
my legs dangling in the air. The massive rod, deep inside, was strong and powerful; its hardness, its strength, its elasticity—
I felt like I could swing on it. My small feet, lifted off the ground,
had lost their pink slippers, leaving only short white ankle socks and pointed toes.
That's how this bastard took my virginity. His enormous member, which had probably been broken countless times before, took
my body. I felt both terrified and helpless, yet also incredibly excited. After the pain subsided, I discovered a
beautiful new world, a world that made me realize how wonderful it was to experience such a
wonderful thing between men and women. I was captivated by his repeated, brutal assaults. His brute force left me nowhere to escape
, and it became my reason to abandon all restraint. He so easily captured me, from my heart to my soul, from
my breath to every pore.
A fulfilling union of body and soul, a collision of flesh and spirit, made my fingertips tremble, my heart swirling with intense
passion, wave after wave. Under the moonlight, my two slender legs swayed high on his shoulders
, along with my pale pink panties hanging there, almost falling off…
This was my first sexual experience during puberty—beautiful, romantic, and exciting.
I didn't believe in fate, yet fate proved its existence through vivid reality.
I wished we could stay together like this forever, spending a whole month together, enjoying one event after another.
In the realm of sexuality, through repeated encounters, we proved our love. Some say, "A woman's heart
can only reach her through her vagina." For me, a girl can only complete her transformation into a woman through her vagina. In one month,
I truly became a woman, a little woman relying on Jian, a
little woman willingly letting him do as he pleased.
We made love on an empty rooftop in the morning glow, facing the rising sun; we entwined naked on the teacher's platform in a quiet classroom; we 　　tried various positions
in the grass of the park, imitating the couples around us. 　　I curiously sought the mysteries of sex, endlessly. One day, he actually entered me from behind, a huge 　　thrust, a strange feeling instantly overwhelmed me, like a deep penetration into the depths of my soul. An unprecedented 　　sense of fullness filled my entire body and mind, a state of complete surrender and loss of control that I couldn't resist. From my soul to my fingertips, 　　everything overflowed with the trust of love. I could completely enjoy passivity, an indescribable feeling of being received. 　　If the vagina can reach a woman's heart, then the anus can 　　easily reach her soul. It's the best way to make a woman's soul leave her body. 　　My love for Jian was boundless, yet like a fleeting flower, our brief 　　encounter began an irreversible destiny. Even though we were like moths drawn to a flame, 　　burning ourselves out until we were powerless, loving each other to the point of heartache, we couldn't defy fate's arrangement and the cruelty of reality 　　. 　　One day, we were driving to his villa in the mountains when a large truck suddenly appeared and instantly smashed 　　our BMW. To avoid further injury to me, he swerved to give 　　me a relatively safer spot. In that sudden accident, I was seriously injured and in a coma for a month, while he became a medically 　　declared dead, a vegetable who would never wake up. 　　One dead, one injured—that was the end of my story with Jian. 　　I wish I were the one who never woke up, so I wouldn't suffer so much, waking 　　up in terror every night, my back drenched in cold sweat. You must not love me, right? If you loved me, how could you make me suffer so much? If you loved me 　　, how could you leave me so heartlessly? If you loved me, how could you leave me all alone? A long journey 　　, an endless night, with wind and rain, landslides and earthquakes, floods and wild beasts—how could you be so cruel 　　? 　　He was so cruel; he remains in a hospital room in America, never waking up. 　　But life will go on, and fate will continue. 　　Misfortune did not leave because of yesterday's departure; fate still shows its fangs, relentlessly gnawing at 　　me, knocking me down again just as I stood up. 　　My daughter, Fei'er, was diagnosed with a malignant blood cancer a few months ago; her little life 　　could be taken by the disease at any moment. And yet, I remarried, to my current husband, Liang, and we have a daughter, 　　Quan Quan. Fate is so cruel. When Fei'er needed me most, I couldn't be by her side. 　　In the hotel, I saw the destitute Kuan. Since our divorce, he had been completely broken . The company we had painstakingly built together had gone bankrupt, leaving him with a mountain of debt. I had 　　given him everything in 　　the divorce, and now he stood before me penniless, wearing 　　clothes I had bought for him years ago. My 　　small, thin daughter looked at me timidly, hesitant to approach. After not seeing her for years, she seemed so distant. 　　A flood of emotions overwhelmed me. I hugged Fei'er tightly and burst into tears. Waves of overwhelming sorrow washed over me 　　; I felt dizzy and on the verge of collapse. 　　"Mommy, don't cry. The doctor said I'll get better with my medicine. I've been taking it every day," Fei'er 　　comforted me, gently patting my back, just as I had comforted her when she was little. 　　My sobs intensified. How could fate be so cruel as to bestow such devastating news upon such an innocent little life 　　? 　　"Mommy isn't crying. Mommy is just so happy to see you. Baby, you'll be alright. You'll get better 　　. Mommy's here; Mommy will definitely get you treated." I forced back my immense grief, wiped away 　　my tears, and choked out to my daughter. 　　I had never felt so helpless in my life. Looking at Kuan, who stood there like a useless piece of trash, I 　　couldn't muster any anger. This man, once so handsome that almost every girl in school went crazy for him, had aged so 　　much in just a few years. His temples were streaked with gray, his beard stubble was unshaven, and his clothes were covered in indelible stains—it was clear he 　　had neglected his appearance for a long time. I could hardly believe this was the man I had once loved, the man so handsome that 　　I could have replaced Jian.

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