【My Eight-Year Sexual History】(2)

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

It was a weekend, and I had just moved into my newly bought apartment, cleaning and decorating my new home by myself. The phone

rang. Thinking it was something from work, I picked it up without even looking at the screen. "Hello?" There was no answer. "Hello?"

I asked again, "Who is this?" "It's me," came a

voice . It was S! Did she have something important to tell me? I paused for a moment, then habitually said,

"Hello." This caught S off guard. "Hello," she replied. The formal greeting

made the atmosphere a little awkward.

"Are you busy? I'd like to invite you to lunch." That's how it all started, and this phone call led

to a date six years overdue.

In 2011, I graduated from university and stayed in the provincial capital to work for a foreign company. Two years of hard work earned me

the boss's approval, and I was promoted to general manager of the sales department. The company provided me with a car, and my monthly income was nearly 20,000 yuan,

making me quite successful among white-collar workers in the provincial capital.

After graduation, my first love from university, S, went to Xiamen to pursue her master's degree. For two years, neither of us was idle; we were both

striving for our dreams. We would tacitly browse each other's QQ spaces, checking each other's updates and

photos, but never leaving comments. Occasionally, we'd chat on QQ, nothing more than asking how our studies were going and how our

work was going—these were all rather bland questions.

At a class reunion, a classmate mentioned that S was coming back to get married in 2013 after graduating with her master's. After

breaking up with her boyfriend, she had been with the man her family had introduced her to. As for me, after breaking up with S, I had dated several

girlfriends, but none of them lasted for various reasons. I smiled bitterly to myself then; if my relationship with S had gone smoothly

, perhaps I would be the one marrying her now. But maybe he was the one most suitable for her.

After hanging up the phone, I freshened up, opened my wardrobe—it was full of suits—there wasn't much to choose from, so I grabbed a

more casual one and put it on. I drove to the Western restaurant where I was supposed to meet S. S arrived before me, and as soon as I entered

the restaurant I saw her already seated at the table.

Two years had passed since graduation, and S's face had lost the naivety of her 18-year-old self, becoming more mature and captivating. Perhaps

due to her higher education and richer knowledge and experience, a confident smile played on her lips. The waiter

led me to the table, and S stood up to greet me and sit down. I noticed she was still as petite as before. As for me, I was not yet 19 when

we broke up , and I had grown a few centimeters since then, now nearly 1.85 meters tall. I smiled

at S, and she also carefully observed me.

I spoke first: "You've changed a lot in two years; you've even learned to wear makeup."

At , she wore no makeup, a completely pure and innocent girl; now, with a touch of light makeup, she appeared fresh

and not vulgar. Her hair was pulled up high, but contrary to her smile, there was a hint of unresolved

worry between her brows.

S looked at my beard and said, "You've changed a lot too, become more mature and composed. You're also much stronger than

before ." After exchanging pleasantries, we sat down and started ordering. I was quite surprised that S ordered a bottle

of red wine; she used to get drunk easily. It seems she's changed

a lot . The waiter poured the wine, and she raised her glass: "This is a toast to you, to our reunion today, and to your

success in your career." She then raised her chin and elegantly downed her drink. I was stunned for a moment, then raised my glass and

downed mine as well.

We then sipped our wine, chatting and recounting what had happened to us in the past two years.

The two of us, who used to be inseparable at 18, still remembered each other's habits and hobbies even after so long. The more we talked,

the happier we became, as if we had returned to our carefree school days at 18.

S's face flushed slightly: "I've graduated, and I've become an old maid from studying so much. I'm back in my hometown, and I wanted to

chat with a friend, but I couldn't find anyone suitable

. I feel like I've lost touch with those so-called friends after being apart for so long. So I called you, hoping you could keep me company for a while." Years of work experience have taught me

when to say what's appropriate and how to speak politely. So I replied: "It

's an honor that you thought of your old friend. It's a good thing we can have a meal together. You've become more mature and beautiful over the years; how could you be

an old maid ? Besides, you're getting married soon, so I'd like to congratulate you in advance." S

chuckled at my words: "Your words are still as sweet as ever. Yes, I'm getting married. In three months, I'll be

someone else's wife." This should have been a good thing. I knew that S and I couldn't rekindle our past relationship, and I sincerely

wished her well. But as she said this, the worry between her brows deepened, and I had a vague feeling that

something was wrong. S continued, "But I don't even know what kind of person I married." As soon as she

said that , I understood. S's love life wasn't as smooth as it seemed on the surface. She

probably asked me out today to confide these buried worries.

"My boyfriend—no, my fiancé—I met him shortly after I broke up with you, and our families set

us up. It's been quite a few years now. At first, he was very good to me, just as

good as you were to me back then. But I studied in Xiamen for two years, while he stayed in our hometown. I had a vague feeling he was seeing someone else. You know

I have a very strong intuition. But back then, I misunderstood you because of wild speculation, and I feel very

sorry about that now, so I don't dare to speculate about him anymore." S looked at me guiltily, then took a sip of

red wine.

Actually, so many years have passed, and those things from back then are long gone. I interjected, "Let's not dwell on

the , it's all in the past. Besides, I was also at fault, it's not entirely your fault. You think your fiancé

is having an affair, are you just overthinking it? You two have been together for so many years, you're a perfect match, you're about to get married,

he wouldn't do something like this now! Don't misunderstand him and let it affect your relationship." I tried my best to comfort

S. S waved her hand, signaling me to stop talking: "Maybe I was just being paranoid before, but this time I have evidence.

A few days ago, I took out his camera to take some pictures, and suddenly found some

photos stored on the camera from not long ago.

All the photos are of the same woman, hundreds of them. Some were taken on the beach, some in hotels, some in

bikinis , and even, there were even nude photos." "This..." I also felt that this man was suspicious, "

Did you ask him, what did he say?" S took a sip of her drink: "Him?" She smiled sarcastically: "He told me he..."

He hadn't used the camera; he'd lent it to a friend for those few days. But I'm not stupid. I checked the dates of the photos

— the same three days he'd told me he was going on a business trip. I was speechless. After processing this fact, I

asked, "So, did he appear in the photos? Maybe he just lent it to a friend, and his friend took the pictures?

" S chuckled, "He didn't appear in the photos, but the most disgusting thing is that his silhouette

was reflected He was naked, holding the camera and taking pictures of that woman. Can you deny

it?

" Wow, S has become incredibly perceptive. It seems this can't be faked.

It's entirely possible for a rich kid like him to meet a woman for fun and take pictures. He might not have been serious, just playing around,

but the physical betrayal deeply hurt S, his fiancée. After all, they were getting married in a few months;

no woman would feel good after something like this. "And then what happened?" "I asked. S smiled coldly. He's quite something.

After I presented the evidence, he immediately cried and apologized to me. Later, he even ran to my father, knelt down, admitted his mistake, and cried,

promising it would never happen again. 'Wow, this guy may be careless, but his cunning is

something I should learn from.' S continued, 'Don't think this was his idea. His father taught him all of this. My

father only let me forgive him this time because of our business partnership. That's why I'm so angry. What's the difference between this and a political marriage in ancient

times ?' At this point, I completely understood. S wasn't just

chatting with an old friend today; she wanted to pour out her grievances and vent her frustrations.

At this point, S's eyes welled up with tears, and she buried her face in her hands on the table, sobbing. I moved my chair closer to her, wanting to

pat her head but then thought it inappropriate, and instead patted her back. A few minutes later, S composed herself and

wiped her eyes." "I'm sorry, you must be embarrassed. How unlucky I am! I met a good man but didn't

cherish him, and my family forced me to marry this fickle beast." "No one is perfect,

everyone makes mistakes. Besides, he's admitted his mistake, and your years of relationship weren't fake. Since that's the case, give

him a chance to change." I comforted S. Of course, I knew she was referring to

me when she said she didn't cherish the good man, but things had come to this point, and I felt S was in a difficult position. I couldn't have any more emotional entanglement with her.

S grabbed my hand: "He's unkind, so I'll be unkind too. He wronged me, and I can't get over

this once." Hearing her say that, I was startled. Wasn't she obviously trying to get me to

sleep with her? Although S had been drinking, she wasn't the type to act on a whim; she always

considered carefully before acting. Maybe she initially asked me out with the intention of getting revenge on her fiancé by having sex with me.

I didn't know how to answer. I wanted to. I definitely wanted to. I've seen S's body before; any more or less would be too plump,

any less too thin. Now, years later, she's even more mature and alluring, and physically, I want her. But wouldn't that

make me a tool for her revenge, and might even affect her future marriage? Seeing my hesitation,

S gripped my hand tightly and slowly revealed some things I didn't know: "After we broke up, I thought he was

a good person, and after dating for a few months, she took my virginity." Hearing this was a devastating blow.

She had sworn to me that she would save it for her future husband, but in the end, she gave it to a man she'd only known for a few months.

I felt a surge of anger, and my breathing became heavy. Seeing my reaction, S began to explain: "Actually, we

'd already been like that for a while, so what's the difference between that and actually having sex (see Chapter 1 for details). At that time

, I was already certain you were the one, and I was planning to give myself to you. But then that misunderstanding happened. I thought

you'd forgive me after a while, but you never contacted me again and even got a new girlfriend. I knew then that we could

n't go back .

I was planning to give myself to you once we could get through this, but unfortunately, we couldn't.

Back then being in that kind of contact with you so often, I was actually feeling a strong urge. Later, I met him. I

was heartbroken after my breakup, and he comforted me. He got me drunk a few drinks and then took advantage of me. After that, I had no choice but to

be with him." Hearing these things I knew nothing about before, I vaguely felt that her life today

was inextricably linked to me. It's fate, I suppose. In the end, we all went our separate ways,

and we'll never cross paths again. "But she's been with countless women before. She took my virginity and didn't cherish me

at all . I should have given you my virginity back then; I'd feel better now." I

listened to S's words in silence. Back then, she misunderstood me, and I couldn't defend myself. She wouldn't see me or answer my calls. In a fit of anger, I

thought "Since you don't even have a basic level of trust in me, and you believe everything you hear, then

there's no point in being with you." So I decisively broke up with her.

S changed the subject: "Fortunately, you achieved your dream back then, staying in the provincial capital with a high-paying and respectable

job." This was originally a promise I made to her. The original sentence had the second half: "Then I

'll go and propose to your parents with dignity." Now she omitted the second half and called my promise to her

my dream. The implication was that there was no possibility between us anymore.

S continued: "Do you remember what I told you back then?" Of course I remembered. That time, S

was lying in bed with me and said: "One day, I will willingly give myself to you, I promise!" This, along with what I said earlier,

formed the promise we made to each other back then. I remember, how could I forget? I nodded.

S leaned closer to me, perhaps because of the alcohol, or perhaps because of the stimulation of desire, her

eyes shone with determination. S whispered in my ear, "Today is the day to fulfill our promise

.

" I was no longer the naive girl I once was. I knew that this was

a decision S had made with great courage, and it might be a once-in-a-lifetime event. I helped S up; she had drunk quite a bit and stumbled, losing her

balance. I grabbed her slender waist and led her to the front desk to pay the bill. Outside, I helped S into the passenger seat of the car. Once inside,

I asked, "Where to?" "Turn left at this intersection and drive 300 meters." I drove as S instructed, and when we arrived

, it turned out to be the very hot spring hotel where we had first stayed together. I helped her to sit on the sofa in the lobby.

S whispered to me, "See if room 4012 is available. We want this one." I had completely forgotten

this room number, but she remembered it. This was the very room where we first slept together and made that promise.

It turned out S really had planned everything. She deliberately chose a restaurant near the hotel and even remembered the room number

from back then—where it all started and ended. She had certainly put a lot of thought into it.

And wouldn't you know it, the room was empty. I pulled S into the elevator, and the moment the doors closed, S seemed to

sober up. She grabbed me and started kissing my cheeks, neck, and lips. She started taking off my clothes,

not even noticing my bag falling to the floor. S's passion aroused me. When we reached our floor, I picked her up,

grabbed my bag, and carried her into room 4012. Now, in my arms was the person I loved most back then. Today was our

first time, six years late.

I gently placed S on the bed, but she got up again and continued kissing me. We were both disheveled. S

removed my clothes and started unbuttoning my pants. I stood there by the bed as S unbuttoned my pants, pulled down my

underwear, and took my penis into her mouth. As I watched her, sweat beading on her forehead, giving me oral sex, her body moving back and forth, I suddenly

remembered that night six years ago, under the moonlight, the girl who first tried oral sex on her beloved. Six years had passed,

and she was taking my penis into her mouth again—it felt like a lifetime ago.

About ten minutes passed, and S was getting tired. She looked up at me. A

glistening trail of saliva still connected her mouth to my glans. S started taking off her clothes, and soon her shirt and skirt were gone.

Underneath, she wore a semi-transparent purple lace lingerie set and a matching thong. S lay on the bed like a dog,

wiggling her buttocks towards me, and said, "Baby, come on." "Baby" used to be our nickname, and

hearing it again was like an aphrodisiac. I grabbed S's pert buttocks, and she let out a soft moan. Her hips

had become fuller with age. I pulled down her thong, but didn't take it off.

S's genitals were already soaked, her juices flowing from her vulva. Her vulva was still very pink, a testament to her limited sexual experience due to the long separation from her

fiancé . This was the place I'd wanted to enter for six years,

and today I finally had my wish fulfilled.

I sucked in my stomach, my penis erect, and forcefully thrust it into S's vulva, using the warm, slippery juices to

penetrate deeply, reaching her very core. "Ah..." S cried out,

arching her beautiful neck like a wounded swan. I began to thrust, each time with all my might, forcefully inserting and

quickly withdrawing. "Baby, you're going in so deep, he's never been this deep before, it feels so good, so good.

" I thrust so roughly, feeling each impact a compensation for the regrets of our youth.

S also tried to sit back, welcoming my thrusts. Under this stimulation, I couldn't withstand

the friction of S's vaginal cavity and soon felt like ejaculating. I didn't intend to hold back and sped up my thrusts. S knew I was about to ejaculate and

shouted, "Baby, shoot inside, shoot inside!" I was about to ask when she shouted and sped up my thrusts by

another 30 or so. S shouted louder and louder, even crying out loud. I groaned, my penis twitched

6 or 7 times, and I ejaculated all my semen into S's cervix. S screamed in anguish, and after I ejaculated

the last drop, she collapsed weakly onto the bed. I looked down and saw that S's eyes had rolled back and her chest was heaving violently,

which really startled me. I quickly grabbed her and pinched her philtrum. A few seconds later, S slightly opened her eyes: "Baby, you

don't appreciate me at all. I think I lost consciousness at the very end. But I felt so good, my whole body is weak now, and

my heart is still pounding. I've never felt so good before, thank you, baby." S had drunk quite a bit of alcohol,

and her loud shouting during her orgasm probably caused a momentary lack of oxygen, so she should be fine. I gave S a sip of water.

I lay on the bed and pulled her into my arms. She nestled against me like a little bird, her hands stroking my chest. "

Baby , it felt so good. I'm so happy to have finally given myself to you today, but I'm not a complete virgin anymore,

I'm sorry." I smiled mischievously and suddenly remembered the dirty joke I had told her before, saying, "The outside

5 inches are old, the inside 3 inches are new." S also remembered that joke. She patted my chest and said

coquettishly, "You're so naughty."

We rested for a long time, chatting every now and then. Seeing the semen flowing from S's vagina reminded me of

this serious matter: "Oh dear, I ejaculated inside you just now. Are you in your safe period?" S was surprisingly calm:

"Who cares? It would be great if I got pregnant with your baby. A boy would definitely be tall and handsome, and a girl would be

beautiful and charming. If I get pregnant, I'll give birth to the baby. Anyway, he won't know it's our baby." Hearing this

sent chills down my spine. I quickly got up and picked up S: "Come on, let's take a bath together." I was thinking that I should wash away

the semen . S was confused and infatuated right now. If she got pregnant, her

life would never be peaceful again.

I carried S to the bathroom. I told her to wash her genitals first. S playfully said, "You help me wash." She

plopped down on the sink, spreading her legs towards me. The traces of semen were still clearly visible. I quickly picked up

the showerhead and helped S wash her genitals, reaching in to try and remove the semen. After washing for a long time, I felt I had

washed away everything that could be washed away. As for the unseen sperm, I'd just buy a pill like Yuting (emergency contraceptive).

While I was cleaning S's genitals, I aroused her desire again. She started moaning and pressed my

head down towards her vulva. I understood what she meant, and I squatted down to give S oral sex. This was the first vulva I

had ever seen . I had been in the workforce for several years and had slept with many women, but I still felt that S's vulva

was the most beautiful. A small tuft of pubic hair on her mons pubis, smooth and delicate labia, and a small pearl with water droplets embedded above her vulva

. I took the pearl into my mouth and teased it with the tip of my tongue. I knew this was S's most sensitive spot. S put

her legs on my shoulders, moaning incessantly, and her hands began to caress her breasts. Soon, S

had another orgasm, shouting a few times, and a stream of clear fluid flowed from her vulva. I sucked it all into my mouth.

"Baby, I wish I could be with you every day. Only with you can I truly experience what it's like to be a woman.

Come here." She got up, took my hand, and led me to the showerhead. She turned on the water and soaked us both, then squeezed out

a lot of shower gel and applied it to my breasts. She then started giving me a breast massage against my back.

Her full breasts, covered in foam, rubbed against my back, buttocks, and thighs—it felt indescribably wonderful. S said

she'd seen this in AVs; her fiancé often couldn't arouse her, so they would watch AVs together during foreplay. He

'd suggested breast massage several times, but she'd refused. Today was the first time she'd tried it. After a few rubs, my penis became erect again.

We dried ourselves off and went to bed. This time, there was no rush; we took our time with foreplay and tenderness.

S licked my entire body with the tip of her tongue, even my toes and anus.

When , I felt incredibly good; it was a completely different experience from oral sex, a pleasure that words couldn't describe.

You should try it. When she curled her tongue and inserted it into my anus, I trembled as if electrocuted. (Later

I learned this is called a prostate orgasm.) S stopped, seeing my flushed face and the state of near ejaculation, but

my penis still erect, and whispered in my ear: "Was it good?" I was too overwhelmed with pleasure to speak,

and simply nodded. S smiled smugly: "I learned this too. I'll only use it on you; no one else can have it."

I grabbed S, rolled over onto my back, and pushed her onto me. She pinched my penis and

rubbed it against her vaginal opening, but didn't penetrate. I knew she was teasing me, but she didn't know how strong I was. I

thrust my hips forward, almost knocking S over. She lost her balance and sat down, my entire penis disappearing into her vagina.

"Ah..." we both cried out in pleasure. "Baby, you're going in so deep, I can feel it right here.

" She pointed to a spot about an inch below her navel. "Your penis is so long, it feels so good." S pressed her hands

against my chest, her legs moving up and down incessantly. I thrust into S's clitoris again and again. Watching her breasts

bounce up and down, her eyes closed, her head tilted back, moaning softly, it was a truly beautiful sight.

Having already ejaculated once, this time it lasted a long time. S and I tried every position we knew: woman on top, missionary position,

kneeling rear entry, close rear entry, standing with legs raised, lotus position, we tried them all. Nine shallow thrusts followed by one deep one, circular

insertions , all sorts of variations made S moan continuously. After ejaculating and resting for a while, S helped me maintain an erection and we continued

, from after lunch until it was slightly dark. Eventually, S ran out of lubrication, so we

used the condoms the hotel provided, squeezed out lubricant, applied it inside her vagina, and continued thrusting. Finally, I couldn't get an erection anymore

, and S was exhausted. After the first time I ejaculated inside her, I gave up and only ejaculated inside her afterward. S's labia

were red and swollen from the excessive friction. My glans was also a little sore from the friction. But the satisfaction in my heart made S and me

forget our physical exhaustion. S held me and fell into a deep sleep. I stroked her hair and prayed silently: "

Gods , I don't usually ask you for anything, but this time I sincerely pray that you bless this woman, that she

may live a happy and fulfilling life, and that she will never suffer emotional torment again."

When we got dressed and left the hotel, it was completely dark. I grabbed S: "Wait for me

, I'm going to buy some emergency contraception." I ran to a nearby pharmacy, bought the medicine, and when I came back, S was gone

. As I looked around, the phone rang. It was S. "Baby, I'm taking a taxi." "You haven't taken your medicine yet!

" "I won't. I told you, let fate decide. If we really have a baby, it will be the best

gift you could give me. I'm so happy today, really happy. It's the happiest day of my life. Today's happiness will

support me through the rest of my life and allow me to bravely face all the difficulties ahead. Thank you." She hung up

the phone. I stood there in the cold wind, a warmth welling up in my heart in this city where I knew no one.

Two months later, I received S's wedding invitation. The invitation was sent by her husband. I had met him

a few times but didn't remember him well. He was of medium height and his appearance was originally quite good, but I don't know if it was

due to excessive indulgence in the past or frequent late nights, this man, only four years older than me, looked prematurely aged. Could this man

shoulder the responsibilities of a man and give S a happy life? I knew the answer myself. I accepted the invitation:

"Congratulations." "Thank you for your kind words. Please be sure to come to our wedding!" He clearly knew S had an

ex -boyfriend she couldn't let go of, but he didn't know that it was me standing before him. "Definitely, definitely."

I didn't attend S's wedding, even though we had such a wild time that day. But the missed opportunity years ago had already destined us to be

apart; that day was merely fulfilling a promise we once made. I didn't want to see S in a wedding dress, marrying

someone else. So I asked an old classmate to give me a wedding gift. I bought a large red envelope and put ￥

40.12 inside

. The end of the S series of stories.

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