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Indulging in endless sex 

    page views:1  Publication date:2023-03-24  
It was around 2004, and our child was three years old. Business at the shop wasn't good either. Back then, like many young couples, we were indulging in endless sex. I remember reading some book about sex education, which talked about the differences between virgins and non-virgins, and the difference between those who had sex a lot and those who hadn't. I started questioning my wife about her sexual experiences before marriage. At first, she wouldn't say, so I said, "I know you're not a virgin, but I still married you, which means I don't care about your past." My wife, being naive, stammered out her past. It turned out that when she was in junior high, she lived at school. There was a math teacher who liked her a lot, so he made her the math class representative. Every evening after self-study, he would ask her to take the students' homework to his dormitory. After a while, the math teacher kissed her. She said, "It was just a kiss on the lips." Once, we almost did it. It happened in the teacher's dormitory. The two of them were kissing on the edge of the bed, and the teacher touched my wife's vagina, his hand coming out wet. He even pulled my wife's hand into his underwear and touched his already hard, rock-hard penis. Just as the teacher was about to take things further, a distant relative of my wife's knocked on the door. This relative was also a teacher, just not hers. So it didn't happen. My wife's relative saw that both the math teacher and my wife were flushed and disheveled, and seemed to understand something.

My wife recalled the first time she was with me. I was doing foreplay, and when I had her wet, I asked, "Honey, what was your first time like?" My wife wouldn't say, so I grinned and said, "I don't mind, tell me, or I won't do it to you." Just as my wife was getting excited, she hesitantly told me about that thing that she still regrets to this day. She said that she had already graduated, but because she needed to get some kind of certificate, she went back to school during the holidays. It was very hot then, and it was quite late by the time they finished getting their documents done. My wife's relative invited her to stay, as he was staying at the school alone. My wife insisted on going home, so the relative suggested she stay in her dorm room while he stayed in the one next door. My wife, without suspicion, stayed. She was woken up in the middle of the night by a knock on the door. The relative said he couldn't sleep without a fan and wanted to come over for some fresh air and chat. Li, surprisingly, opened the door without thinking. Of course, the relative sat on the edge of the bed and chatted idly with my wife. She was wearing very loose underwear and no bra. Although she was only 16, her breasts were already quite developed, probably due to her math teacher's frequent kneading, so they looked like two small mountains on her chest. At some point, the relative took off his pants and got into bed, saying he'd make do for the night. Li didn't say anything. Actually, Li really didn't know anything about sex back then, but what happened next was that relative suddenly pinning my wife down, saying things like "I've liked you for a long time" and other nonsense. Then he pulled down my wife's panties and forced his way into her vagina. At that moment, my penis was thrusting hard inside my wife's vagina, but when my wife mentioned that the relative had forced his way in, I suddenly felt a tightness in my chest. I felt no pleasure at all, and my penis went limp and slipped out of my wife's vagina. My tears quickly fell down. My wife was frightened and quickly hugged me, comforting me while complaining: "I didn't want to say it, I didn't want to say it, but you insisted on making me say it. Now you're not happy!" I promise, it was only once. There was never a second time until we got married.

But I seriously doubted my wife's story, because in the snippets of conversation she revealed about her relationship with that math teacher during sex (the best time to get information from her during sex is when she reveals things), I felt that it wasn't just kissing, touching breasts, or touching vaginas; they must have had sex more than once. Later, when I was taking my last few exams for my undergraduate Chinese literature course, I happened to be sharing a dorm room with her math teacher (because I had seen photos of my wife from her school days, including one with her teacher). I pretended not to know her; men like to brag about their prey, so I boasted about how many students I'd slept with before. Sure enough, the teacher started talking about my wife, and I even asked her in detail what she looked like. When she mentioned that one student's labia were longer on one side than the other, my heart raced. I desperately wanted to know if they'd actually had sex. What the teacher said next shocked me: "That student was really slutty. She wasn't a virgin the first time we slept together. I don't know which bastard was faster than me. But it was still really good, so tight." We did it whenever we had the chance. We did it countless times in my dorm room. Once, I took her to a county competition, and we started kissing in a moving tricycle. She was wearing a skirt, and I lifted it up and had her sit on my penis and we started having sex. Another time, we did it on the hill behind her house from dusk till dark, only returning home when her mother called us repeatedly… I don't know how I got through that night, but when I woke up the next day, my pillow was soaked with tears. My heart felt like it was being pierced by a thousand needles.

When I got home, I told my wife about it, hoping she would tell me the truth. My wife was furious, saying the teacher must have misremembered, and even wanted me to call and confront her. I thought for a moment, maybe the teacher was just making things up, and I was making things up too. But I immediately dismissed that idea; if we hadn't done it, how could I be so meticulous? But calling to confront her was unnecessary. Since I married her, I couldn't dwell on her past. I'd just consider the teacher's words as boasting. But a seed had been planted in my heart, something indescribable lurking there, ready to explode or give rise to strange or perverse thoughts at any moment. Sometimes, while having sex with my wife, I would ask her to talk, and she would gradually reveal some things. I felt sorry for her, but gradually, the pleasure overcame the shame. Sometimes, my wife would even deliberately bring up those topics to excite me.

But life had to go on; sex couldn't be everything. My job was passable, after all, even in the town's middle school, there weren't many people with self-taught bachelor's degrees in Chinese, but my salary was only about 700 yuan, almost always insufficient to make ends meet each month. How could I dedicate myself fully to teaching? So I felt that I was truly unworthy of being a qualified teacher—but when survival was elusive, what right did you have to talk to me about morality and ethics? So I returned to my old ways, teaming up with a friend to play mahjong. I had once seen a movie starring Andy Lau. It talked about some mahjong techniques, which I studied carefully. Back then, mahjong was played by hand; there were no machine mahjong sets yet. I could usually get the cards we needed after rolling the dice. Back then, we could earn nearly 3000 yuan a month playing mahjong. But that wasn't a long-term solution. People noticed eventually, so we stopped after two months. I used the money I won to buy a computer for 4000 yuan. After buying the computer, my wife and I both got QQ accounts and spent day and night trying to go online. The shop's business was already bad, and with less time spent online, it became even worse.

My wife's QQ was always online, and sometimes I'd forget to close it, so I'd see some of her messages. She was quite reserved online. But one thing completely made me lose faith in my wife's past. She had a QQ group with her classmates from vocational school. One time, my wife forgot to close QQ again, and a male classmate in the group messaged me, "Li, are you still in contact with Wei?" I was a little surprised; I'd never heard of Wei. I quickly replied, "Don't talk nonsense, Wei and I are innocent." The guy said, "Haha, don't lie to me. Wei and you go to the orange grove behind the school every few days, and then you report back to us about your adventures!" My heart skipped a beat, and I hurriedly shut down the computer. That night, I tried to get her to confess, but she vehemently denied ever having a boyfriend in vocational school. I didn't say anything more, just thrusting hard into my wife's vagina, imagining another stranger raping her in the orange grove. Surprisingly, I no longer felt such a strong sense of shame. If I still had a heart, it would have been shattered piece by piece by these unexpected events. It could never be the same again. But waves of pleasure kept crashing into my mind. I feel like I'm a completely abnormal man now.

Fellow men, if you have a virginity complex, and if you're not married yet, I urge you, by all means, go find a virgin. Not to have a complete woman, but for yourself, to have a complete heart. However, if you unfortunately don't marry a virgin, force yourself to flip to page 67 of your junior high school physiology textbook, where it says that a very small number of girls might break their hymen due to strenuous exercise. Then wholeheartedly believe that your wife is one of those lucky few. Of course, if any women are fortunate enough to read this article, please, by all means, preserve your hymen. But if someone else steals it first, you must lie to your husband. Remember the conclusion from the textbook; that's your best excuse. Seriously, this deception is one of the greatest virtues you can ever achieve. Then bury all your premarital men, along with their passionate or not-so-passionate, romantic or not-so-romantic past, deep in the abyss of memory, never to be mentioned again.

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