[A Newlywed Woman's True Story of a One-Night Stand] (Full)

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A Newlywed's True Story of a One-Night Stand:

Because of work, my husband and I lived in different cities, separated by a railway

line and seemingly endless radio waves spanning over 1000 kilometers. Although my parents and friends advised me to carefully consider

the pain of separation after marriage, the sweetness of our courtship and youthful impulsiveness made me recklessly throw myself into it. I

firmly believed my choice was right, that we would be happy, and that the power of love could overcome the distance of 1000 kilometers.

Finally, in November 2003, I became his bride.

After a little over a month of passionate intimacy, he went back to work. I felt like I was back to

before marriage , still working and living alone, saying the same things every day, repeating the same routines, and

not as close to my best friends as before.

I always felt that I was more mature than them now that I was married. When we went shopping, I couldn't find the same carefree

joy we used to share. Some of the slightly lecherous guys at work stopped chasing after me and started courting my close

female friends . Some married colleagues started making jokes that I'd only make after marriage. Am I really getting old

? I'm the same age as them, just married before them, so why the difference?

Later, I realized that marriage hadn't made me older, but it had added

something —maybe it was going from a young girl to a young woman, like in a fairy tale. I'd gone from a girl to a wife;

I was a young woman now, and I wanted to be a mature and beautiful young woman.

Every night, besides going online, there seemed to be nothing to do, but even online seemed boring. I started

indulging myself . I enjoyed chatting with those slightly lecherous mature men. I wasn't afraid of their

sweet lies or their blush-inducing sweet nothings. I wasn't a little girl; I was a young woman, and I wouldn't believe them. But

I had one principle: no meeting in person.

I think there are many advantages to not meeting in person. At least it makes me feel safer, and it allows me to indulge

my imagination. What is the person on the other end of the computer like? Knowledgeable, humorous, handsome? I tend to

imagine him in the best light—a mature man with a broad range of talents…

This imagination brought me very close to a man who lived two hours away from my city. He

tried to see me, but I always refused. Until one evening, I went online and, as usual, greeted me and said he wanted to see me. I

assumed he was out of town, so I casually replied, “Sure, where do you want to meet? As long as you can come.” He said

we should meet on the pedestrian street.

I agreed, “Okay, fly over.” Then his avatar went black. I chuckled to myself, another

boring man, and then continued browsing the internet aimlessly… His avatar lit up again, and he told me he had arrived at the pedestrian

street. It was his first time there, and he had been looking for a long time, but he would wait for me until I arrived. I was startled. “Are you

kidding me Aren’t you in your area?”

He smiled mysteriously. “Can’t I come? Look at my IP address. I’ll

come no matter how far away I am to see you.” I could sense his smugness from my computer.

"Why don't you dare come? Afraid I'll eat you?"

I was delighted by his provocation. He was the second

man besides my husband to travel so far to see me. I wasn't afraid of him; I was confident in myself.

"Are you afraid we'll have a one-night stand? Are you afraid you'll be unable to resist me?" Faced with his

unhurried teasing, I quickly typed, "I'm afraid. I've never been afraid of anyone before..."

"Then come out! I can't bear to think about what you look like. If you're a dinosaur, I'll leave immediately..."

"Bad man, lecherous scoundrel!" I typed a string of righteous indignation...

"Then come on over. I'll wait for you at the Nike store on the pedestrian street. I'll wait until you arrive. I believe after chatting for so

long, you'll consider me a friend..."

After a long wait, I finally replied: "Guess if I'll come." "Then I logged off.

I shut down my computer and thought for a moment, 'Fine, I'll go. It's my territory, what am I afraid of?' I changed into an outfit I

felt was decent, and lightly applied lipstick and eyeshadow before heading out. I was very close to the Nike store

, but I couldn't see anyone. I went inside, pretending to look at hats, secretly glancing around. It seemed

no one was there . I breathed a sigh of relief, but was also a little disappointed. Maybe he was lying to me, that he hadn't come at all. I looked around again

… Finally, I saw him…

I walked with him silently for a while. He asked when my husband would be back. I said I didn't know. He then asked if I

could come to his place for a while. I said no. He smiled and asked, 'Then where should we go? What should we do? You can't just leave me

alone on the street, can you?' I sighed, thinking, 'Walking around like this isn't good,' but I

didn't know where to go.

'How about we get a hotel room?' he said with a mischievous grin."

I was startled. "No, I'm not going to a hotel."

He laughed even more brazenly. "What are you afraid of? I'm going to a hotel to sleep, not to ask you to come. I

can't sleep on the street, can I? Come on, lead the way."

I nervously followed him to a hotel. I told him, "You can stay here, I'm going home." He told me to wait for

him for a while, but I said no. He insisted it would only be a little while, so I said okay, but I'd wait for him outside the lobby. Standing

outside the lobby, I thought, "He's not bad, a rather mature and humorous man." I gradually developed a

liking and became less wary of him. Just then, he came out and said he wanted to go for a late-night snack and asked me to come with him. I agreed, but

I was worried about being seen by acquaintances, so I took him to a place far from home where I felt I wouldn't know anyone.

We talked a lot that night. I found him witty and intelligent; he often knew

what I was going to say before I even finished. He also really admired me and sympathized with my situation of not being with my husband. I gradually realized how nice

he was , and without realizing it, we grew closer. I'm not the traditional type of woman, the kind who

feels awkward talking to men.

He asked me what I thought about one-night stands and extramarital affairs. I told him I felt that as long as two people like each other and have feelings for each other,

it's a matter of freedom. I was surprised at my own answer; I hadn't even considered how I would face

my husband or wife after it happened. Perhaps people are sometimes emotional creatures, especially women, who sometimes lose

control of their reason and are easily impulsive. I think I was that kind of woman that night.

It was getting late, and he invited me to his place, saying he was leaving the next day and wanted to chat a little longer. I had a small drink.

I had a little alcohol, but I was quite sober. I knew what might happen if I went, but

I found a lot of enjoyment that night with him. My husband hadn't been with me in a long time, and his gentleness and patience brought back

a long-lost warmth. I didn't want to ruin the atmosphere; I just thought this man was wonderful. At the same time, I felt

a long-lost impulse within me—a longing for someone to hold me until dawn.

Perhaps it was the inner turmoil, or perhaps it was the stimulation of the alcohol, but I went with him…

After showering, he gently held me, his hands roaming over my body, his lips kissing mine. I turned my head

away; I didn't want to kiss a man other than my husband. He respected my feelings, gently and slowly placing me on the bed,

his hands softly exploring my body, his warm lips taking my nipple into his mouth. I let out a soft moan. I

could feel his rapid breathing; his hot, urgent breath tickled my skin, making me feel very comfortable.

He was very experienced and quickly found my erogenous zones. As soon as he stimulated my nipples, I couldn't

control myself . He saw my weakness and attacked it even more fiercely. A masterpiece of God,

he obsessively assaulted my nipples, as if knowing that conquering her meant conquering me, that I would disarm myself and

surrender completely. His fingers also attacked my lower body.

My cries grew louder and louder. At first, I was afraid someone would hear, so I suppressed myself, not daring to cry

out . But I felt a tightness in my chest, and my breathing became labored. I needed to shout to breathe properly

, so I cried out loudly. He was kneading my chest and sucking my nipples. Gradually, my legs spread wider and wider. I felt

an emptiness down there. I cried out loudly, forgetting my previous reluctance to kiss any man other than my husband, and started kissing

him willingly.

He got up, facing me down below, and straddled me, stirring his tongue around my genitals. I felt

his weight on me, making it hard to breathe. He patiently kissed my genitals, and I felt a strange pleasure

. I cried out loudly, feeling his hard thing poking at my face. Just as I was lost in my own

cries, his thing suddenly went into my mouth. I closed my eyes, took it in, sucked, and licked it

, completely forgetting myself, losing myself…

“Was it good?” he asked. He climbed over and sat up, leaning against the headboard, asking me to give him a blowjob. I was

a little embarrassed. He said, “It’s okay. Look how good I made you feel. Now it’s your turn to

serve me.” He then leaned against the headboard and waited for me.

I looked at his erect penis, with a bulging vein, the veins clearly visible,

glistening with my saliva.

“Look, it’s saluting you,” he joked.

"Hmph, aren't you ashamed? You're all wet," I teased him lewdly.

I picked up his thing, first wiping the opening with my hand, then smearing it on his leg. See?

Some fluid has come out. I continued teasing him, then put it in my mouth, gently biting it with my teeth and

licking it lightly with my tongue. I kept it in my mouth and then spat it out, and he groaned happily, telling me to suck

harder. I blew harder, feeling his little brother grow bigger and harder in my mouth.

"You're wet," I spat it out, teasing it.

"Little darling, how dare you laugh at me," he grabbed me and pressed my head against his little brother.

I put it in my mouth again, feeling a little liquid flowing into my mouth, a salty, astringent

taste.

I blew harder and more attentively, letting out soft moans, glancing sideways at him

to arouse him. He couldn't hold back any longer, fiercely pouncing on me, pinning me down, spreading my legs, and roughly

thrusting into me. I cried out loudly, expressing my pleasure. I tried my best to spread my legs, welcoming his repeated

, violent thrusts. I felt no aversion to his roughness, nor any pain. Amidst my moans,

I felt like I was floating in the ocean, slowly drifting towards the depths amidst surging waves…

After it was over, I lay on his chest, feeling a little regretful, yet also a little happy. He gently smelled my

hair , his fingers constantly playing with my clitoris, cuddling with me tenderly. I asked him if he would come again,

and he said he would. I told him he had hurt me, and he asked where it hurt.

I was too embarrassed to say anything, so he lit a cigarette and gave me that wicked grin again: "Did I hurt your breasts

? I like women like you, newlyweds. I really like your nipples, they're a bit big, and

they feel . Your breasts aren't big, but they're nice, just the right size to hold in one hand, everything's under control."

He then made a gesture of grabbing my breast and sucked on my nipple. That night

we did it twice more, sometimes missionary, sometimes woman on top, and sometimes with me on my stomach and him entering from behind

. But I didn't feel the same way as the first time. The first time I really had an orgasm, but the later

times were more about him releasing his pent-up desire while I passively accepted it, completely lacking the passion of the first time.

After we finished, looking at his satisfied expression, I lay on his chest, closed my eyes, and for some

reason , I suddenly thought of my husband. I felt very sorry for him, and I felt like crying.

I woke up in the morning before he was awake. I saw it was almost 8 o'clock, so I quickly woke him up. When he saw my body, he

wanted it again and pressed himself against me, kissing me...

We didn't get out of bed until 9 o'clock. I took him to the train station and watched him go home. The train left,

and he was very reluctant to leave me. I was also a little reluctant to leave him, but I also had a feeling that I wanted him to leave quickly. Watching him

go , I wondered: What is this man to me? He got my body, but what did I get?

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