Old Chen, who lives alone

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

I went wild for the first two years of college, finally settling down in my junior year. I met my current husband, and we quickly became a couple.

Not long after graduation, before I could even adjust to being a fresh graduate, I got married while pregnant. At my husband's earnest request, I needed to remain a full-time mother until our child could start kindergarten.

My life then consisted of housework and childcare. Although busy, it was fulfilling. However, perhaps because my youthful, playful spirit hadn't fully matured—after all, I was only 24—I was always resentful. At the prime of my life, I felt imprisoned in the cage of family life.

As time went on, the various emotions and desires that had been building up deep within me became increasingly difficult to quell.

In my neighborhood lived an elderly man in his sixties, surnamed Chen. He wasn't tall, had a slightly large beer belly, and sparse, graying hair scattered across his bald head. His wrinkled face occasionally revealed the faint traces of age spots.

Old Chen is an outgoing and helpful person who always wants to get involved in everything. He also works in the neighborhood committee, so he knows more about the little things in the community than anyone else. When the community expanded its parking spaces, thanks to Old Chen's connections, we managed to get the best spot. My husband and I gradually became acquainted with him because of this.

One time, my husband mentioned that Old Chen, living alone, often ate out for every meal, while we usually cooked at home. He suggested that Old Chen come over and cook for us. I thought it would just be an extra pair of chopsticks and bowls, and Old Chen would even help with the grocery expenses, so I agreed.

After that, Old Chen would come over for lunch and dinner, or I would cook and bring the food to him.

But gradually, I noticed that sometimes Old Chen's gaze was filled with an aggressive, lustful intensity, especially in the summer when more skin was exposed. His gaze then became more like that of someone staring at prey, which was somewhat unsettling.

However, since he was an elder, I didn't take it too seriously. Besides, Old Chen was quite old and shorter than me, which lowered my guard.

During a meal, I casually mentioned that I often suffered from neck and shoulder pain. Old Chen said he had studied massage and could give me a massage to relieve the pain after the meal.

After the meal, Old Chen played with my child for a while before inviting me to sit down for his massage. Old Chen's technique was as skilled as a professional masseur, his massage precise and thorough.

It was summer, and I was wearing loose clothing, so I didn't notice that Old Chen was already getting a good look through my neckline.

Gradually, Old Chen's movements became bolder, using some massage techniques to take advantage of me, seemingly casually brushing against my breasts or touching my waist.

At that time, I was busy with housework, while my husband was working hard to support the family. After giving birth, my husband and I hardly ever had any intimacy. When we were both in the mood, it often ended abruptly because the baby was crying. My desires, both emotional and physical, gradually built up.

So, I never imagined that when Old Chen used his rough hands to massage me and take advantage of me, it would arouse my desires as a woman.

Slowly, my body heated up, my breathing became rapid, and I even began to anticipate what Old Chen would do next.

But Old Chen didn't go any further as I expected. He patted my shoulder, smiled, and told me it was over.

After taking him home, I felt a little disappointed about what had just happened.

That night, I couldn't help but fantasize about what it would feel like to have Old Chen's rough fingers inserted into my vagina.

Thinking about it, my underwear felt sticky. Ignoring my sleeping husband beside me, I continued to fantasize about Old Chen while using my fingers to relieve my desires.

Later, Lao Chen would occasionally give my husband and me massages. While giving me massages, he would still secretly take advantage of me, and I, of course, enjoyed his services, including his rough hands roaming over my body. Then, unsurprisingly, Lao Chen would appear in my fantasies that night.

We maintained this slightly ambiguous interaction for a while, until one day I delivered food to Lao Chen's house. That day, the weather was hot and humid, and being sensitive to heat, I wore loose and breathable clothes as usual. After delivering the food to Lao Chen, he asked if I was in a hurry to leave and if I wanted to have dinner and chat with him for a while, and also to take home some health supplements that his son had given her.

Since my children were with my in-laws that day, I was happy to have some peace and quiet and wasn't in a rush to go back, so I stayed.

After Lao Chen finished eating, he mentioned that he had a massage bed at his house and asked if I wanted to get a massage. At that moment, the feeling of Lao Chen's fingers roaming over my body flashed through my mind, so without thinking too much, I agreed.

I lay on the massage bed, and Old Chen, as professional as ever, relieved a lot of my accumulated fatigue. He didn't shy away from taking liberties with me, but never went too far.

However, the weather was hot, and Old Chen's house didn't have air conditioning, so sweat slowly soaked my white t-shirt. Before long, my underwear was barely visible through the thin fabric.

Perhaps because the massage was relaxing, I unconsciously dozed off. In my drowsy state, the pressure of the massage gradually disappeared, replaced by caressing and kneading.

Old Chen's hands explored my back, waist, and buttocks, even gently touching my private parts through my pants. Finally, seemingly thinking I was asleep, Old Chen slowly and carefully lifted my shirt, trying to take off my shorts as well.

Just as he was about to do so, I stood up and slapped him, angrily rebuking his actions.

In my rage, my eyes inadvertently caught sight of the lingering bulge in Old Chen's crotch. Even though I was angry with him, for some reason, I couldn't help but imagine the shape of his genitals in my mind.

Perhaps it was too sudden, for Old Chen was at a loss, frantically apologizing and repeatedly offering excuses men often use when they make mistakes, like he couldn't control himself and overstepped his bounds.

Actually, I knew I wanted to continue, but I disliked this feeling of near-violation. The passion that had slowly faded after marriage and children seemed to be rekindled under Old Chen's skilled finger techniques. Looking at this man past sixty, I felt a complex mix of emotions.

After Old Chen finished explaining, we fell into a silence. He lowered his head, avoiding my gaze, while I looked at him thoughtfully, my desire gradually awakening.

So I broke the silence, taking the initiative to comfort this old man who, like a child being scolded for doing something wrong.

We returned to the living room and chatted for a while, listening to him tell stories of his life after his wife's passing.

I deliberately asked him sexually suggestive questions, like whether he would come on his own after his wife's death, or how long it had been since he'd had sex. Given Old Chen's previous inappropriate behavior, these topics, which would normally never be discussed, didn't seem so awkward.

During the conversation, Old Chen avoided eye contact and his voice was slightly stuttering, while I kept fantasizing about what would have happened if I hadn't interrupted.

While I was still lost in my fantasies, I heard myself say to Old Chen in a suggestive tone, "If you really want it, I'm willing to have sex with you once."

Old Chen was taken aback, thinking I was teasing him and telling me not to joke around.

After all, how could a young woman like me accept having sex with a man in his sixties?

I teasedly said, "If you don't want it, that's fine, I won't lose anything."

Old Chen became even more flustered, repeatedly confirming whether I really wanted to have sex with him.

I just smiled and nodded; I think my smile at that moment must have looked like that of a slut.

Because Old Chen pounced on me the next second, pinning me to the chair and trying to kiss me roughly. His tongue pried open my teeth, and I quickly shook my head. Perhaps it was his persistent bad breath from smoking that made me instinctively refuse him.

Old Chen didn't force me; his mouth began searching for every inch of skin he could kiss.

He lifted my shirt and rubbed my breasts through my bra. Perhaps it had been too long since I'd been with a woman; Old Chen's movements were hurried and rough. Although it hurt me slightly, his rough hands gave me the expected stimulation.

My first affair after marriage was with a 60-year-old neighbor. I asked myself incredulously, but my body betrayed me without reservation.

It didn't take long, and I can't even remember how it happened, but Old Chen was only wearing his underwear, and I was stripped down to just my underwear as well.

Through my underwear, I discovered that Old Chen's size was larger and firmer than I had imagined, which was an unexpected delight for me.

I made him sit on a chair, then knelt before him and removed his underwear. The moment it came off, his large penis sprang out.

I took a Durex condom from my bag and skillfully put it on Old Chen. Then I began to serve him with my mouth.

Seeing that I had even prepared the condom myself, Old Chen seemed to understand something and smiled maliciously.

I gently took his glans into my mouth, licked the urethral opening, and gently stroked it with one hand, then slowly licked down his penis, moving back and forth between the glans and the base, occasionally licking and sucking his scrotum.

Old Chen's size made it impossible for me to fully take him in, and it filled my mouth completely. I couldn't wait to feel the penetration.

While enjoying my service, Old Chen unhooked my bra, caressing my breasts and teasing them.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a reflection on the television: an old man panting as he enjoyed the service of a young wife, while the wife passionately served the old man's penis, offering him her body.

That image is still deeply etched in my mind. A

wave of shame washed over me, yet I found myself shaking my head even more vigorously, pleasing the thick, hard penis in my mouth.

With my constant hand and mouth stimulation, Old Chen quickly lost his patience and told me to stop.

He helped me up, removing my underwear, which was soaked with moisture, a glistening thread connecting it to my vulva.

We stood facing each other. Because of the height difference, Old Chen could easily reach my breasts by bending down slightly. He licked my nipples while caressing my vulva, and I supported him, worried that his age might cause him to lose his balance.

Under the double stimulation, my legs went weak first. I couldn't help but cling tightly to Old Chen's short, stout body, while he excitedly took my breasts into his mouth, teasing my nipples with his tongue and stimulating my clitoris with his fingers.

My sensitive body couldn't withstand Old Chen's ministrations, and I reached orgasm instantly.

But Old Chen didn't let me rest. He made me slump in the chair, my legs weak from the orgasm, and then he knelt between my legs, his mouth covering my vulva.

He sucked hard, then explored my vulva with his tongue. The living room was filled with the sounds of wetness and my moans. My body was still lingering from the orgasm and couldn't withstand Old Chen's stimulation. I was dazed, moaning and crying out for more.

Only then did Old Chen's mouth leave my vulva, and he slowly inserted his fingers. Perhaps because I was already so wet, two fingers went in easily. His fingers moved in and out of my vulva, sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly, and the rough touch of his fingers constantly scraped against the walls of my vulva.

Soon, Old Chen found my sensitive spots and began to stimulate me rapidly, while licking my clitoris. At this point, I didn't care if the neighbors could hear me, and I moaned wildly.

Soon, Lao Chen brought me to another climax, and only then did he let me rest a little. During the rest, he held out his fingers, which were covered in my vaginal fluid, and I took them into my mouth, cleaning them as if they were his penis.

After a short rest, Lao Chen pushed me down again, stimulating my vagina with his penis, but only teasing the outside, hesitant to penetrate. I begged him to fill my vagina, and only then did Lao Chen thrust in with satisfaction.

Lao Chen's thick, solid penis filled my vagina, reaching the deepest point. He slowly thrust in and out, adjusting, praising the tightness of a young girl's vagina.

After we gradually adjusted to each other's genitals, Lao Chen began to thrust faster. The fullness of my vagina with each thrust stimulated my sensitive areas.

I held Lao Chen tightly, frowning and moaning, and Lao Chen seemed to respond, vigorously moving his thick waist.

Soon, Old Chen, panting, told me he was about to ejaculate.

I groaned and urged him to ejaculate inside me. As soon as I finished speaking, Old Chen's penis, inside my vagina, released waves of warm fluid through the thin condom.

Old Chen slumped back in his chair, panting. After all, he was getting on in years, and the lack of passion had left him exhausted, but I silently praised his enduring prowess.

Removing the condom, his weapon was slowly losing its power, still covered in a mixture of semen and vaginal fluid.

I moved between Old Chen's legs and took his penis into my mouth. The taste of our combined bodily fluids filled my nostrils and taste buds.

Despite having brought a condom, I found it cumbersome and used my tongue to directly touch the old man's dirty, aged genitals. I cursed myself for my lewdness and shamelessness, but the decadent sensation made me savor everything that had just happened.

After resting and tidying up a bit, I prepared to go pick up the children.

As I left, I told Old Chen that this would stay at his house, that it wouldn't get out, and that it wouldn't happen again. Then I turned and left without looking back.

But was it really true, as I said, that it wouldn't happen again?

The image of Old Chen thrusting into my vagina kept replaying in my mind, and my underwear was soaked with

my own fluids again. Every cell in my body was boiling, unabashedly proving its pleasure. Walking through the neighborhood, I felt incredibly relaxed and carefree.

[The End]

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Old Chen, who lives alone

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