Lonely married woman commits adultery

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

I'm 29 years old this year, and I've been married to my husband for three years. A year after our marriage, I went abroad to study, and I've been there for two years now. My husband is still working in China. Although I've experienced the pain of separation, things have been relatively peaceful. However, in recent months, due to my lust, I've done many things that have wronged my husband, and I'm still struggling with this distress…
From childhood, I've always been seen as a good girl. Because my parents were very strict, I have very traditional values. When some of my classmates started dating in junior and senior high school, I felt it was shameful and didn't care much. I focused on my studies and eventually got into Shanghai Jiao Tong University with excellent grades, which made my parents very happy, and I felt very proud myself. So I came to Shanghai for university. Many of my classmates started dating, and although I was more accepting of that at the time, I never had a boyfriend. It wasn't that no one pursued me; quite a few people did, but I always felt that my first love had to be someone I truly liked.
I didn't get my first boyfriend until my junior year of college. We fell in love at first sight, and the two years we spent together were truly wonderful. Even so, I always held firm to my boundaries, only giving him my first kiss, because I always believed that my most precious first time should be saved for my future husband. We were still in college, and the future was uncertain, even though we loved each other very much. Sure enough, after graduation, we went our separate ways. He went back to his hometown of Qingdao, while my parents insisted that I stay in Shanghai, so we were forced to break up.
I was lucky enough to find a white-collar job at a foreign company thanks to my excellent grades and strong foreign language skills, fulfilling my parents' wishes and staying in Shanghai. After starting work, some men pursued me, and colleagues and friends introduced me to potential partners, but I didn't feel the same romantic connection with any of them as I did in college. I've always had high standards for relationships, and I'm quite passive in love. Even if I like someone, I won't pursue them if they don't make the first move. So, I remained single for two years while working in Shanghai. As I got older, my family started to get anxious, especially my mother, who hoped I would find a local Shanghainese to settle down with.
At 26, a friend introduced me to another man. This time, there wasn't a formal introduction; we just went out together. He was her boyfriend's friend, but everyone knew it was a meeting of potential partners, though no one said it outright. This man was a year older than me, a Shanghai native, with a good job in IT. While not exactly handsome, he was of average height, polite, wore glasses, and spoke well, so my first impression of him was quite good.
After meeting him, unlike other men who rushed to ask me out, constantly texting and calling—that kind of behavior made me feel desperate, like I was going to take any woman. I didn't like that. He always timed things perfectly, occasionally inviting me out for dinner or a concert, and each time we spent together was pleasant, so I always readily accepted his invitations. Over time, things naturally progressed, and we officially started dating. My parents were very satisfied with him; he was honest and reliable, had a good job, owned a house in Shanghai, and was decent-looking—he met all my parents' requirements.
What's even more remarkable is that his parents also liked me. It's not common for Shanghainese
to marry someone from out of town, and fortunately, his parents are also intellectuals. Perhaps they saw my gentle and virtuous appearance, and my good education and job, so they were very supportive of our marriage. Come to think of it, someone with his conditions is quite good; what could I possibly be picky about? I'm not young anymore; am I still expecting a life of romance? Besides, after a year of dating, I've found him to be a good person, and he treats me very well. Although our love isn't the kind that's passionate and dramatic, it's been warm and happy. Shouldn't I be content? So, under pressure from both sets of parents, we got married after a year of dating.
I finally upheld my principles and gave myself completely to my husband. When he discovered I was still a virgin, he was deeply moved. Honestly, he never expected that a girl like me, with a good appearance and figure, could still be a virgin at 26. He felt very lucky and said he would treat me well for the rest of his life.
Our first year of marriage was generally very loving. He truly cared for me meticulously, and I loved him wholeheartedly. But I still yearned for my long-held dream: to study abroad. I'd had this wish since university. Back then, seeing my classmates go abroad filled me with envy. I desperately wanted to see the world while I was young, but the cost of self-funded study abroad was just too high. Although my family was relatively well-off, the annual expense of over 100,000 yuan was still a lot. Besides, my parents felt that it was already quite good for me to graduate from Shanghai Jiao Tong University and stay in Shanghai to work; there was no need for a girl like me to necessarily go abroad.
However, after graduating from university, I worked while still attending New Oriental classes on weekends. New Oriental was full of people who wanted to study abroad, and in that atmosphere, my desire to study abroad grew stronger and stronger. In the end, I scored 630 on the TOEFL and secretly applied to many graduate programs at foreign universities without telling my husband. Unexpectedly, I actually received offers, and one university even gave me a full scholarship! I was so excited and told my husband the news. Although I knew my husband wasn't keen on going abroad and didn't want me to go, I still didn't want to give up the opportunity. I hoped he could study abroad with me and even planned to help him apply to schools. However, he said his career in Shanghai was going well and he didn't want to go abroad. My in-laws weren't happy either, and I was very disappointed.
A few days later, my husband told me that he had thought it over. Studying abroad had always been my wish, and he should support me, but for our future, he would stay in China to develop his career. He would earn money to support my studies. He even tried his best to persuade his parents. To be honest, I was really grateful to my husband, but I didn't take a single penny from him. I felt that his tolerance and consideration for me was already very precious, and I couldn't take his money for my studies. So, I took my savings from two years of work and went abroad alone.
Once abroad, I had a scholarship for tuition, and I covered my living expenses by working part-time at a Chinese restaurant. I was also quite frugal, so I was financially independent and didn't need my husband's help. After classes started, I met a girl named Fang. She was about my age and had also just come from China to study. The difference was that she and her husband had immigrated through skilled worker programs, but her husband was still working in China and wouldn't be able to join us for a while, so she came to study on her own. Our situations were similar, so we got along well and started sharing a two-bedroom apartment. We cooked, ate, went shopping, and chatted together, so life wasn't boring. We lived together like this for a year.
My life during that year was simple: classes, part-time work, and chatting online and on the phone with my husband. Occasionally, Fang and I would go shopping or see a movie, but we never went to bars. But sometimes, especially late at night, I felt very lonely and missed my husband. Although he often called and video-chatted with me, it didn't ease the pain of separation. During that year abroad, I went back to China twice: once for two months during the summer vacation and again for 20 days during Christmas. Whenever I had a holiday, I went back to see my husband. He also said he missed me a lot.
We've been married for a year, and I didn't feel particularly needy for sex. It was always my husband who initiated it, and as his wife, I felt I should comply. Although he often brought me to orgasm, I didn't particularly crave it myself. However, after going abroad, perhaps due to age or the long separation from my husband, I felt my sexual desire increased significantly. Sometimes, in the quiet of the night, I would even think about how my husband felt the same way.
Once, during a video call, my husband said he really wanted to, and asked me to take off my clothes so we could have sex on video. I understood him and felt sorry for him, so I did. He said he was masturbating while watching my body and wanted me to masturbate with him. Before this, I had never masturbated, nor did I believe that masturbation could bring pleasure to a woman. I said no, just make him feel good. But my husband insisted, demanding that I start rubbing my genitals in front of the camera. For my husband's sake, I started too.
My husband was masturbating while teaching me how to do it, whispering sweet nothings in my ear. He told me to close my eyes and imagine we were making love. I followed his instructions, slowly rubbing my genitals and imagining making love with him. Hearing his increasingly rapid breathing, I unconsciously rubbed my clitoris harder, and I actually had an orgasm! It was the first time I'd ever known that masturbation could bring a woman to orgasm. My husband said he'd ejaculated too.
From then on, we often relied on video sex to satisfy each other's needs, and I felt so pathetic. But since I started masturbating, I often had the urge, but sometimes my husband was busy at work, and I couldn't reach him online. When I wanted it, I would masturbate, lying in bed imagining what it would feel like to have sex with my husband, masturbating until I reached orgasm. Even so, I never thought about having a one-night stand.
I never thought about having sex with other men casually. It's not that no one pursued me; because my appearance wasn't particularly mature, many people couldn't tell that I was already 29 years old, and they didn't know I was married. A man I worked with at a Chinese restaurant pursued me relentlessly. Men I attended school also showed interest in me, but I rejected them all and told them that I already had a husband. I've been abroad for over a year, and my relationship with my husband has been very good. I never thought that I would betray my husband one day.
In January of this year, Fang said that one of her college classmates was changing jobs and would be coming to work in our city from another city. She asked Fang to find him an apartment, saying that he was a good person, and suggested that we rent out the living room to him so we could save on rent. I had no objections. I was usually away from home during the day with classes and work, and most of the time I was in my room at night, so the living room was just sitting empty. So he moved in. His name is Feng, a year younger than me, with big eyes, tall, and a bit more muscular than my husband. He's already an immigrant and works at an accounting firm.
Fang said he's a very nice person; he was on the basketball team in college, and many girls were infatuated with him. However, I felt he wasn't very talkative, seemed very busy with work, always leaving early and coming home late. Sometimes Fang and I would cook and invite him to eat with us, but he rarely came out, often saying he'd already eaten out. We didn't see each other very often; when we did, we'd just greet each other and exchange a few pleasantries. Overall, though, my impression of him was okay. He was quiet, never brought friends home unnecessarily, and was quite clean. He would help with cleaning when he had time, and he didn't smoke, which was a really good quality roommate. So, the three of us lived together for about three months. Having another man in the house was indeed nice; if a lightbulb broke or a screw came loose, the two of us women didn't have to climb up and down stairs to fix it.
In April, Fang's husband finally came to visit, so Fang found another place to live with him. We didn't want to rent to strangers, so he moved from the living room to Fang's original room. A friend of his was going back to China, so he left him a sofa, a coffee table, a TV stand, a TV, a DVD player, and some other things. He said he'd put these in the living room so his friend would have somewhere to sit when he came over, and he wouldn't rent out the living room.
After Fang moved out, we started living together. At first, it was a little awkward, since it was just the two of us. When friends came over, they would sometimes jokingly ask me, "Aren't you afraid of living alone with a man?" I said it wasn't that serious; I'd lived with him for a while and knew him fairly well—he wasn't the kind of man with bad character who would do anything reckless. Indeed, after we moved in together, things weren't much different from before. He still left early and came home late, and I rarely saw him in class. When we did see him, we'd just chat briefly, mostly about his work and my studies.
I never saw him deliberately try to get close to me, probably because he knew I was a married woman and wouldn't be interested in me anymore. Most of the time when he came home, he stayed in his room, and I stayed in mine; we rarely went out together.
Occasionally, we'd cook and eat together on weekends, chatting casually for a bit, and after he washed the dishes, he'd go to his room. He rarely joked with me, probably because we weren't that close yet. We lived together like this for two months without incident. I would still video chat with my husband and have sex in my room at night, and sometimes I'd masturbate alone. But one day, two months later, something unexpected happened, and from then on, I fell into an incurable abyss…
In May, he said he was going on a business trip out of town for a week. For the first two days, I was a little scared, since I'd never lived alone before. Although we usually went our separate ways at night, there was always someone else at home, and now it was suddenly so quiet. But after two days, I got used to it and thought living alone wasn't so bad; it was quite free, and I could do whatever I wanted. That week, I had just finished my midterms and was relatively free, so I rented some DVDs to watch at home. Since he wasn't home, I simply took them to the living room and played them on the DVD player. Watching on the big TV was much more enjoyable than on the computer. After watching those TVB dramas for two days, I got a little bored.
That night, I had arranged to video chat with my husband. When I was ready to go online and be intimate with him, I saw a message from him saying he had to work overtime and couldn't be online with me, and he was sorry. I was very disappointed, so I picked out an adult film and went to the living room to watch it. As I watched, I became more and more aroused. Just as I was getting into it, I was too lazy to go back to the room. I thought he wouldn't be back until the day after tomorrow, and I would be home alone. So I lay on the sofa, watching the film while taking off all my clothes and starting to masturbate.
I lay naked on the sofa in the living room, with my eyes closed, imagining what it would feel like to have sex with my husband. I rubbed my labia, clitoris, and clitoral hood with my hands, slowly rubbing and kneading, but after 20 minutes, I still hadn't reached orgasm. When I first started masturbating, I could feel it within minutes. But as I masturbated more often, it became less and less effective. Several times before, I faked orgasms during video calls with my husband to please him, but I never actually came.
But today I really wanted it, so I kept rubbing myself. Suddenly, the door opened, and Feng came back. As soon as he entered, he saw an adult film playing on TV. I was lying naked on the sofa, eyes closed, ecstatically masturbating. He froze, standing there staring at me. I was suddenly startled, let out a cry, and immediately covered my chest, utterly ashamed. He suddenly approached me and said, "Do you really want it? Let me help you."
I called him shameless and told him to leave. He didn't say anything and went back to his room. I sat alone on the sofa for two minutes, stunned. Just as I was about to go back to my room, I didn't expect that when I got to my door, Feng was also standing naked, blocking my way. He begged me to help him, saying he was incredibly hard and it was so uncomfortable. I looked down his body and saw a huge, erect penis, bigger and thicker than my husband's. The red glans made my heart itch; this was the big, hard cock I'd been longing for. I wanted it so badly, but reason told me I couldn't. I insisted on telling him no, that I couldn't betray my husband.
He said, "I know you want it too. Let's comfort each other. I promise I won't go inside, so you won't have betrayed your husband." Looking at that big penis, I was tempted, but still hesitant. He repeatedly assured me he wouldn't penetrate, just some light sex, that we'd caress each other and masturbate to orgasm. He said he was really uncomfortable and begged me to help him. I finally relented, but made him swear he wouldn't penetrate me.
So, on my bed, we began to make love, two hot, naked bodies embracing. I masturbated him, and he rubbed my labia. But we both felt it wasn't enough. He suggested we give each other oral sex, saying it would be more intense. I refused. I'd never done oral sex before, not even with my husband. How could I let another man do that? My husband had never licked my penis either, and I'd always thought oral sex was dirty. I disagreed.
He didn't force me, and we did it to each other for a while. He said he still couldn't ejaculate and felt uncomfortable. He asked if he could just rub against my vaginal opening, promising he wouldn't go inside. I agreed. He put his big penis at my vaginal opening. It felt so hard and hot, wet and slippery. He rubbed my labia, sometimes poking my vulva with the head of his penis, and occasionally flicking my genitals with his penis, constantly rubbing around my vulva while sucking on my nipples. I couldn't take it anymore; my vagina was so itchy, but he still hadn't ejaculated and was still so hard. He was really strong. His big penis was still clenching around my vaginal opening. I finally couldn't control myself anymore and yelled at him, "Put it in! I'm so itchy, please put it in!"
He thrust into me forcefully. My heart skipped a beat; I knew it was over. Honey, I'm so sorry, I've betrayed you again. He pumped in and out, and I couldn't care less anymore, I was just enjoying it. The feeling was pure ecstasy, the first time I'd ever felt sex so good, so incredibly pleasurable. I had an orgasm, a really strong one. He said he was going to ejaculate, and I quickly told him to pull out. We'd agreed beforehand not to go inside, and we weren't using a condom. Luckily, he controlled himself well, pulling out and pouring his semen onto my breasts—hot, so comfortable…
After the passion subsided, I cried. I told him I had betrayed my husband, and I accused him of lying to me, saying he wouldn't penetrate me. He said he didn't mean it, he just couldn't control himself, he really wanted to go in, and that I was the one who asked him to, that I had begged him to go in several times. I was speechless. But he still apologized to me many times, saying it would never happen again.
After this incident, I felt extremely guilty and didn't dare contact my husband or answer his calls for several days. I really regretted letting myself fall into such a state. For those few days, he also tried to come home very late, and we almost never saw each other, avoiding each other. We were both deliberately avoiding each other.
I was distressed for several days, feeling that I couldn't stay there any longer, otherwise I would never forget this incident and would never be able to face him. So I hurriedly found a place online, and a week later, I moved out. He helped me move without saying a word.
I moved to a foreigner's house; this time it was a house, the landlady was an old lady, a nice person, and there were a few other tenants. I tried to keep myself busy every day, hoping to forget this incident as soon as possible. At first it was okay, but soon the lust in my heart began to gnaw at me like a poisonous insect. Once it happened, it would happen again, and again…
I’ve been living with the old lady for over a week now, and I try my best not to think about these things, but I still can’t control myself, especially at night. When I masturbate, I always think about the scene of having sex with Feng that day, and I masturbate while thinking about it. Before, when I masturbated, I fantasized about having sex with my husband.
Now, all I can think about is the scene of that night with him. Even when I video chat with my husband, I think about having sex with Feng. I know it’s wrong, but I don’t know why, maybe it’s because it’s exciting. Only when I think about the feeling of Feng penetrating me can I reach orgasm through masturbation. Now, video chatting with my husband doesn’t work for me anymore. Every time, I can only pretend to satisfy my husband. But who will satisfy me?
I’m getting more and more thirsty, but I still resist the urge to go to him. One night, two weeks after moving, Feng suddenly called me. I was very excited when I saw his phone and answered. His voice was very deep. He said he missed me, hesitated for a while, and then asked if he could come and see me. I didn't give myself time to think and flatly refused; he hung up. After hanging up, I felt incredibly disappointed and resorted to fantasizing about having sex with him while masturbating, but the pleasure from masturbation diminished. Another month passed like this; he didn't call me again, and we never saw each other again. I thought our relationship was over. Then
one day, Fang called me, saying it was her birthday that weekend and she planned to invite a few friends over to her house for a get-together, and also to see their new home. Of course, Feng and I were also invited. I wasn't really keen on going, but it would be impolite not to go to Fang's birthday party. Thinking that there would be so many people, I agreed. When I arrived at Fang's house that day, I saw Feng. It had been over a month since I'd seen him, and seeing him again was a little awkward. Every time he looked at me, his eyes burned like fire, making me feel like I was standing naked in front of him—very unnatural.
Luckily, there were many people, and we didn't talk alone; we just ate together, played cards afterwards, and the losers drank. Later, I saw it was getting late and remembered I had planned to go online with my husband over the weekend, so I said I had to leave. Feng said he was leaving too, and since he had a car, he offered to give me a ride home. I said no, I could take the bus. Fang and her husband disagreed, saying it was so late, and I had drunk a little, though not very drunk, but I was a bit tipsy, and they weren't comfortable letting me take the bus home alone. Besides, it was raining heavily outside, so I couldn't insist any further and agreed to let Feng take me. The whole way, neither of us spoke. He drove, and I sat quietly, just hoping to get home quickly. Finally, we arrived at my doorstep. I said thank you and was about to get out of the car when Feng suddenly grabbed me, kissed me passionately, and grabbed my breasts forcefully. He said he'd been craving me for a month, almost to the point of madness. Ignoring my resistance, he roughly tore open my clothes and sucked on my nipples. I finally couldn't take it anymore; I'd wanted to for so long too. Fueled by alcohol, I began to respond to his kisses, my hand involuntarily reaching for his penis, which was already bulging like a tent.
I finally pulled it out—the penis I'd longed for countless nights, hot and sticky. I gripped his penis. He suddenly stopped, leaned close to my ear, and asked, "Do you want it?" I was already very wet, so I could only nod. He said, "I'll satisfy you."
Then he drove to an empty parking lot behind my house and parked. In my heart, I said to my husband, "I'm sorry, honey, please let me relax one more time, just one last time." At midnight, we made love wildly in the car. Outside, it was pouring rain, but inside, we were drenched in sweat, our juices flowing freely. Perhaps it was because it was my first time having sex with a man in a car, but it felt incredibly exciting and pleasurable. I discovered that I actually enjoyed stimulating sex.
That night, we made love in the car for over two hours, and he brought me to
orgasm three times in a row. Just after my second orgasm, my husband's phone rang. I knew he was worried because I wasn't online yet, so I answered weakly. At that moment, Feng's penis was still inside me. My husband asked what was wrong, saying he'd been waiting for me for a long time and I hadn't gone online. I made an excuse, saying I had a bit of a cold and needed to rest. My husband told me to rest well and take care of myself.
While I was talking to my husband, I felt Feng slowly starting to thrust again. I couldn't take it anymore; my breathing became rapid, so I hung up immediately. My husband's call didn't remind me to stop; instead, it intensified my pleasure. After hanging up, Feng asked if it was my husband on the phone. I said yes. He said, "While you were talking to your husband, another man's penis was inside your vagina. Wasn't that great?" Hearing this, I suddenly felt a surge of pleasure and realized how lewd I was. I started moaning. He noticed my reaction and continued, "Your husband is watching you having sex with another man in the car. I'm going to fuck you right in front of your husband, fuck you to death!" As he spoke, he thrust his penis forcefully, making me wet. In
the quiet night, the only sound was the friction of our flesh. I lay on the car seat, writhing. He continued, "You seem gentle and virtuous on the outside, but I never expected you to be so lewd inside. You're so slutty, letting another man fuck you in the car behind your husband's back. Do you want me to fuck you?" For some reason, hearing these words aroused me. My husband never said these things when we had sex before. At most, I would just moan and groan softly.
Today in the car, I actually liked it when Feng called me slutty, called me a whore, and even begged him to fuck me hard, to fuck me to death. I never thought I would say those things. But it was really exciting, I felt so good, I had another orgasm, and Feng also ejaculated, this time inside me. He made me orgasm three times in two hours, and I almost collapsed.
We lay down to rest for a while, the back seat of the car was covered in semen. We finally sat up and straightened our clothes, both of us drenched in sweat. I was embarrassed and eager to get out of the car, but Feng said he wanted to sit with him for a while. He said he knew I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight and would feel distressed and guilty, and he didn't want me to go home alone and overthink things, so he said he wanted to talk to him.
So we sat in his car and talked. This was our first real conversation. Before, our conversations were always sporadic. After our last time we had sex, he just apologized to me many times and then went back to his room. After that, we avoided each other and didn't even speak. Today, after we had sex for the second time, we actually started chatting in the car. I asked him what his impression of me was before, and he said he thought I was a gentle and virtuous woman, probably quite intelligent, and likely had good grades. He often saw me explaining problems to Fang, but he absolutely had no improper thoughts about me; he never had any designs on married women.
He said that after I moved out, he masturbated much more frequently, always imagining me naked, lying on the sofa, and masturbating. A few times, he even lay down on the sofa in the living room where I used to lie to smell my scent. One night, he couldn't resist anymore—the night he called me—he really wanted to come see me, but I firmly refused, and he also felt he shouldn't have those kinds of thoughts about me anymore.
So, for the first time in his life, he went to find a prostitute. But when he actually did, looking at the woman, he said he felt nothing. He ultimately didn't do it. He said only seeing me gave him that strong desire, and only having sex with me could give him that kind of pleasure. He frankly said, "I know you have a husband, and you love your husband very much. What we're doing is wrong. I'm not even sure if I really love you. I can only say that I'm hopelessly infatuated with your body." He said, "I can see you feel the same way. Although you're trying to control yourself, we can indeed satisfy each other.
It's already lonely in a foreign country, why make ourselves suffer? We're already like this, and I don't want to deliberately restrain myself anymore. Let's enjoy each day as it comes, and comfort each other when needed, okay?"
I remained silent. What he said resonated with me. I felt the same way, but the pangs of conscience prevented me from readily agreeing. We talked in the car until 3 a.m. I went home to sleep, but I couldn't fall asleep, tossing and turning in bed. Feeling another man's fluids inside me, I even worried I might be pregnant. Thankfully, my period came, which relieved me.
After that, two sexual encounters, plus that deep conversation that night, made Feng and I much closer. He became more unrestrained, no longer calling to ask if I could come over, but instead just rushing to my door whenever he felt like it. And every time he came, we would definitely have sex. I couldn't resist him; in fact, if he didn't come, sometimes I would even think about it, but I never initiated it. The
following week, he came 3 or 4 times a week. He said he wanted to have sex with me whenever he saw me. The first few times he came to my house, he couldn't wait to strip me naked and have sex with me intensely as soon as he entered the room. Every time, we were very enthusiastic and satisfied. Later, he sometimes came directly over after work to have dinner together.
Ever since that time in the car when he discovered I liked him talking about my husband having sex with me, sometimes he would come to my house. I'd be cooking in the kitchen when my husband called. Whenever my husband called, if he was nearby, he'd start kissing me, touching me, and then slowly moving his hand down to my genitals. I'd try to appease him while pushing him away, but it was no use. He could always make me wet. I couldn't take it anymore, so I'd hang up, and then we'd have sex wildly. I especially loved that feeling; the more I felt my inner lust, the more frantic I became.
We continued to have sex every few days, usually when he came to my house. Sometimes we'd do it in the bedroom, and while he was penetrating me, he'd say that my tenants probably knew he was coming to have sex with me, that they were all listening outside the door. The more he said that, the more excited I became, and so did he. But afterwards, whenever I ran into my mother-in-law or the tenants, I was afraid they might actually have heard, and I felt embarrassed.
Another month passed like this. Although I always refused him when he came, I always gave in. He suddenly stopped coming. A week had passed, and I couldn't take it anymore. Even though I still video chat with my husband sometimes, it's just for show, just to satisfy him. A week without sex with him, and I couldn't stand it anymore, but I still resisted calling him. A few more days passed, and he still didn't come. I figured he was probably tired of me. Good, it can't go on like this forever. I wanted to forget him, but lust kept growing inside me. I really wanted to go to his house, but I held back.
But the weather was getting hotter. I was in a rush moving, and I hadn't brought many things with me. The fan was still in the old house. I don't know if I was making excuses or what, but that night was really hot. I decided to go get the fan. I still had the key, so I didn't tell him and just went to get it myself. I thought if he really had lost interest in me, I'd just take the fan and leave. Besides,
he might not even be home; maybe he'd found a suitable girl and gone on a date. So I went over by myself. When I opened the door, the living room light was off. I thought he really wasn't home, and felt a pang of disappointment. I went into the storage cabinet to find a fan. After a while, I was suddenly hugged from behind. I turned around and saw Feng. He said, "You're finally here! I missed you so much!" and started kissing me. I pushed him away and said, "You're home? What have you been doing these past few days?" He smiled slyly and said, "Did you miss me? Did you want me?" I ignored him. He said, "I deliberately didn't contact you these past few days. I wanted to see how long you could hold back. It's always me who initiates contact. It's like every time I go to your house, it's just to vent my frustrations on you, and you always resist a little. It makes me feel like a beast, like I'm forcing someone into prostitution. We're together because we need each other, it's mutual, isn't it?"
I said, "I thought you had a girl you liked, that you had a girlfriend." He smiled and said, "After being with you, you're all I can think about. How could I possibly be interested in other women?" He hugged me, started kissing me, unbuttoning my clothes, and taking them off. This time, I was very docile and cooperative. He led me into the bathroom, and we showered together. Then, for the first time, we did it again at his house, our old house. This time, we performed oral sex on each other for the first time. It was my first time giving oral sex to a man, and it wasn't even my husband.
The feeling of oral sex was amazing; I actually really enjoyed it. I greedily sucked on his large glans, and he licked my vulva, sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly. We played 69. After the climax, we were both hungry, so we went to the kitchen to get something to eat. After eating, I was planning to have him take me home, but he said we should be romantic and go to the balcony to look at the stars. So we got two deck chairs and sat on the balcony looking at the stars. The moonlight was beautiful tonight. He looked at me and started kissing and hugging me again. Gradually, our breathing became rapid again. I wanted to go back to my room, but Feng grabbed me, and we made love on the balcony under the open sky. It stimulated me to the extreme again. With Feng, he always gave me different kinds of stimulation. I didn't go home that night. We spent the night together for the first time. When I woke up the next morning, I inevitably had another round of lovemaking. We did it three times that night.
I was so weak and powerless when I went to class the next day. Feng said he liked to see me exhausted and rolling my eyes when he fucked me. It made him feel especially good. I told Feng that we should be more moderate in the future. Too frequent sex isn't good for our health. He said he couldn't help it; whenever he was with me, he felt sexually aroused and couldn't control it. He even blamed me for turning him into a sex-starved person. Actually, I felt the same way. He said we might be destined to be together from a past life, like dry tinder meeting a raging fire.
We've maintained this relationship for over three months now. Whenever we're together, we make love, and we've started trying different positions: front, back, standing, sitting, him holding me while I lean against the bathroom wall while he fucks me—we've tried them all. I feel myself becoming increasingly wanton; I even imitate the actresses in porn, sitting on Feng's glans, twisting my body and screaming wildly, thrusting back and forth.
Whenever this happens, Feng makes me think about what my husband would think if he saw this. He keeps calling me a slut, a whore, which only makes me more frantic. We've done it in many other places: my kitchen, the bathroom, and once in a movie theater. There were very few people in the theater at night, and we were sitting in the last row. The movie was a bit R-rated. While watching, Feng kept touching me, and I started to get aroused. Feng had me sit on his lap. I was wearing a skirt, and he unbuttoned it, exposing his penis, and started penetrating me. That time was incredibly exciting. Although I enjoy the pleasure sex brings me now, I'm still tormented by my conscience. I started making excuses about being busy with my studies and contacting my husband less. I
originally planned to go back home for a month in August, but I said I had to stay here to study for the CA exam and couldn't go back. When I told my husband I couldn't go back for the summer, I could tell he was very disappointed, but I really didn't dare go back to face him. I felt like I'd given up entirely, and my husband knew he would never forgive me. I've thought about being honest with him, about divorce, not for Feng. I know there's no future with Feng; he's never said he wanted to marry me, and I've never asked. Maybe we're both still unsure whether we love each other as people or just our bodies.
But I truly feel I'm no longer worthy of being my husband's wife. Thinking back to when I married him, I was a pure virgin, and after two years abroad, I've become a slut. There's no going back. I don't have the courage to tell my husband because I'm too ashamed, and I know he'd be devastated if he heard all this. I don't want him to suffer such pain and hurt. I don't know what to do; I can only live one day at a time. So I absolutely cannot take the first wrong step. Once my defenses are breached, I'll only become more and more depraved! Things
can never be perfect. I can only strive to have a clear conscience.

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