[Real Experience Series - Memoir: My Most Thrilling Experience]

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

Recently, it seems like all the "good girls" on QQ are in a collective slump. New ones haven't been verified yet, and I don't want to bother with the old ones again

. So, I'm writing down some memories to share.

Speaking of excitement, I've had my share of experiences, but this time, picking up a "good girl" was my first time going to a woman's home, and I got the hang of it

pretty quickly .

Last summer, probably during the hottest part of summer, I was bored on QQ late at

night . Who could it be so late? I opened her profile and saw she was a 28-year-old woman. It was late at night, not the time for serious chatting.

I directly asked, "Can't sleep? Want to have sex?" Unexpectedly, her answer was also very straightforward: "

Yes, I want to have sex." Those few words sent my adrenaline soaring, and I was instantly wide awake. I perked up and

started a serious conversation. This "serious" conversation mainly revolved around height, weight, marital status, preferred sex positions, etc.

Half an hour later, I got her phone number, and I felt she was very trustworthy. I guess many of you have encountered some

sexy women (maybe transvestites) who like to talk about sex but absolutely refuse to meet in person? I sent her photos and received her approval, but she had no

videos or photos. Meeting her this time seemed very risky.

We chatted for a while longer before she logged off, and we agreed to meet at her place the following evening. Her husband was on duty and not home, so

this was only one opportunity a month. I hadn't had many successful attempts at picking up girls back then, and I thought that if she was pretty, I'd

have long-term meal ticket, secretly pleased. But considering the safety of this trip, I was still filled with unease.

As agreed, she could only contact me after 6 pm when she finished work. In the summer, 6 pm was still broad daylight; it was impossible to go to her

house. I called her, but she didn't answer. She texted back, saying she was working overtime until 8 pm and could only contact me by text. Through our exchanges,

I learned the general location of her house: a dormitory area for a large company in Qingdao. I felt a little relieved;

it seemed unlikely to be a honey trap. I carried a few hundred yuan for self-defense and drove there. When I arrived, I sat in

the car observing the activity at the entrance of the residential area. At 8 pm, I called her, and she spoke with a distinct local accent,

saying she had already gone home.

Huh? Where was she? There were no women coming in or out of the door at the time, and I had been observing.

While I was guessing what was going on, she said she wasn't mentally prepared and wanted to call it a day and go home.

Having less experience with casual sex last year, my emotional resilience was limited, and I was on the verge of a breakdown. I persuaded her for a few minutes, telling her

I was already at the entrance of the complex and we could just meet downstairs; nothing would happen. Under her guidance, I found the

building, and a woman with a good figure, wearing athletic shorts and a sports top, walked over. In the

dim light , I could tell she was attractive. After a brief and sincere conversation, she hesitantly agreed, and we tiptoed

upstairs. She opened the door, slipped inside, and locked it. The house was a bit dark, except for the bathroom light. When I asked why she didn't

turn on the light, she said she was worried about being seen by the neighbors. Actually, the neighbors definitely wouldn't see; she was just feeling guilty. While she was in

the bathroom , I quickly checked the other rooms, making sure no one was there, and I felt much relieved.

Later, it turned out I was wrong; there was another man in her house—I hadn't even noticed her two-year-old son

sleeping in his crib. That was also why she hadn't turned on the light. Later, I wondered if she was also worried about encountering bad people and

harming the child, which is why she didn't tell me? Regardless, she definitely let a "wolf" into the house.

The air conditioning was on full blast, and it worked wonders; I felt cool quickly. In the dim light, I sat down next to her.

My hand had barely touched her thigh when she hugged me tightly—wow! She was even more eager than me. I ran my hand

down wow, she wasn't wearing underwear. Further down, as you can imagine, it was very wet. She grabbed my

erect penis, unzipped it, and pulled it out, immediately taking it into her mouth and starting to stroke it. Her technique was a bit rough,

with a slight teething sensation. Her breasts were beautifully curved, soft and just the right amount of softness, and her nipples weren't large. After a few minutes of this, the sofa naturally became

the first battleground, and the intense physical struggle ended after about half an hour. She didn't want to stay in bed, feeling guilty towards

her husband—a strange thought indeed. So, she laid a blanket on the living room floor, took a shower, and then resumed the battle. Her

husband called to check up on her, and she went to the bedroom to answer it. I slipped in and, finally, after the call ended,

I achieved my goal—slept with her. Their wedding photo was on the bedside table. In the darkness, I tried to make out

the man's face, but failed.

We talked about what happened afterward. Their relationship was okay, but the husband didn't know how to cherish her. Every night

she slept with the child, while her husband slept alone. They would go to the same bed when they wanted to have sex, and then sleep separately afterwards.

After having a child, the quality of their sex life had deteriorated, and she praised me as a hundred times more vigorous than her husband. We agreed again that

I wouldn't contact her first if she contacted me. Although I felt like a free gigolo, I agreed. Unfortunately, two days later

she told me that her husband seemed to have noticed something and asked me to delete her phone number and QQ. It's hard to tell if she was telling the truth;

maybe she regretted cheating? After waiting a month, I kept my promise and deleted

all contact information. Although I still remembered her front door…

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