A stunning scene

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

That stunning scene from three years ago still feels like it happened right before my eyes.

I was born in the North, and after graduating from university, I went to the South to make a living, staying with my uncle and aunt.

My uncle and aunt had stable jobs and incomes, and their house was spacious, but it lacked warmth. Their only daughter was studying in the North, and my arrival, in my aunt's words, brought joy and vitality to their lives. Not only did I not have to pay rent, but my aunt also resolutely refused to accept my food expenses.

Across from my aunt's house lived a young couple with a five or six-year-old daughter. The housewife across the street got along quite well with my aunt, and during her time off, she often brought her daughter over for a visit, which was rare in the city. When that little girl came, she wouldn't stop; she would climb all over the sofa and table, and I tried my best to avoid them.

However, as time went on, we started greeting each other when we bumped into each other, and sometimes we would exchange smiles. Her radiant smile made me, young and inexperienced, a little unsettled. I began to pay attention to my aunt's female neighbors.

She was probably no older than thirty, a young woman or a mature woman. She had a pretty face, big, watery eyes, a high nose, white and even teeth, flowing black hair, and a firm, pert bottom. Especially when she wore high heels, her figure was a perfect S-shape, which stirred up a lot of fantasies. From then on

, whether she came to my aunt's house or we bumped into each other outside, we would chat for a bit. She would complain to me about her husband spending all his time online or playing cards, and about her mother-in-law's old-fashioned rural ideas and how she was always picking on her because she hadn't given birth to a son, and so on. Her casual glances and smiles, her clear and melodious voice, began to keep me tossing and turning at night.

I remember that day very clearly, May 31st, a little after nine o'clock in the evening. I had just returned home from a work engagement. I was home alone during that time. My uncle went on a business trip to the north and naturally had to visit his beloved daughter, so my aunt went with him. Entering the residential area, I noticed the parking space opposite was empty, indicating the male homeowner hadn't returned yet. As I approached my own door, I saw a light shining from the opposite door; the door wasn't closed. Was there a guest?

Curiosity compelled me to gently push the door open. The living room was dark and silent, and the male homeowner's large leather shoes weren't visible. He was definitely not home. Where was she? Was she in the bedroom or the bathroom? Why wasn't the door closed? Had she forgotten, or was it left open for her husband?

My mind immediately concluded she'd forgotten, since his car wasn't downstairs. The female homeowner was more likely in the bathroom, as it was the season and time of year for bathing. Hoping for the best, I gently turned the bathroom doorknob. Surprisingly, it wasn't locked from the inside. I gently pushed the door open a crack and saw her quickly and skillfully fixing her hair in front of the mirror. She tightened her loose hair, secured it with a hair clip, and then took off her white short-sleeved shirt, soon revealing only a black bra.

Then she quickly unhooked her black bra, revealing two mounds of flesh on her chest. I say "two mounds" because her breasts weren't large, only about the size of a man's well-developed pectoral muscles, maybe enough to be grasped in one hand. Her breasts seemed to have no nipples, just flesh—what people call "jaywalking breasts." Later, I heard her say that she didn't have breast milk after giving birth to her daughter and had to feed her formula. Usually, her protrusion was just from her bra, and her nipples were only the size of a peanut, somewhat dark.

At that moment, I was both nervous and excited. I was nervous because I was afraid her husband might suddenly come back—I'd be trapped in her house! That would be really hard to explain, so I had to listen carefully to the sounds outside and the elevator. Once I determined that her husband was back, I had to leave immediately. I was excited because I was about to see a completely naked woman.

Then she started to take off her trousers. Because she was wearing jeans, which were tightly fitted around her lower body, she slowly and laboriously slid them down from her waist, seemingly finding it quite difficult. She finally managed to pull them off, revealing two thick, white thighs. Her underwear was light yellow boxer shorts, which she quickly pulled off, revealing her plump buttocks. At this point, she was facing me directly from the waist down. As she turned around to take off her socks, I could see her mons pubis and dark pubic hair from the front. Taking off

her socks was quite amusing; she was wearing very thin, flesh-colored socks. Each time she took one off, she would bring it to her nose and sniff it, probably to check if the smell was strong. If not, she probably wouldn't want to wash the socks.

At this point, she was completely naked, a flawless, jade-white body, with fragrant, smooth skin, presented before me. It was the first time I had ever seen a completely naked woman so closely.

The bathroom was divided in two by an aluminum alloy partition with a sliding door. She had just undressed in the outer room, where the washing machine, a porcelain basin, and a mirror were located. The inner room contained the squat toilet and shower, with the floor raised above the outer room. If she went in to shower and closed the door, I wouldn't be able to see anything. My options were either to leave or wait for her to finish and see her naked body, or perhaps even try to seduce her before she dressed. If she didn't close the partition, I could watch her shower.

All the good things had happened to me today. Following her movements, I saw a bathtub in the inner room, probably the one she had used to bathe her daughter. To enter the inner room, she had to remove the tub. I watched as she bent down to empty the water, picked up the small tub, and placed it on a shelf on the wall. As she tiptoed to put the tub down, her buttocks, usually taut within her jeans, were revealed:

smooth, round, and incredibly beautiful, a truly pleasing sight.

It could be that her series of actions—lifting the basin, pouring water, and hanging it up—didn't involve turning around to close the shower door, or perhaps she never closed the door when she showered. She went straight to the showerhead, turned it on, and stood on the squat toilet with her legs apart, seemingly preparing to rinse her lower body. Because it was a sun-heated toilet, some cold water had to be added. At this moment, she was completely naked, facing me, her head slightly lowered, quietly waiting for the hot water. She could never have imagined that a pair of eyes outside the crack in the door were greedily admiring her naked body. Just then, I took out my phone, switched to video mode, and wanted to record this precious moment.

Her belly was interesting; after all, she was a woman who had given birth. It was somewhat loose and somewhat protruding, with a horizontal groove along her navel, like a ring, and a vertical groove from her navel to her mons pubis. This was probably a scar from her cesarean section, making her belly look like a blooming steamed bun.

Because she was standing facing me, with her legs relaxed and slightly parted, her genitals were completely exposed to my view. Her mons pubis was high and rounded—wasn't that what people often call a "bun"? That's a legendary vagina! Dark pubic hair clung haphazardly to her mons pubis, probably because her jeans were too tight. Below

were two thick thighs, supporting her naked body like two pillars. Her calves and thighs were somewhat thick, some smooth, some white, some slippery—you couldn't help but find them attractive.

The water wasn't very hot, and she was getting a little impatient. She slowly walked to the showerhead, tested the water temperature with her hand, bent down, and sprayed the showerhead over her genitals, patting them with her other hand. A slightly muffled "slap, slap" sound came from there—the unique sound of water hitting the entrance of her vagina.

The moment that made my blood boil had arrived. She probably felt the water temperature was right, so she stood on the squat toilet again, spread her legs, and squatted down. With one hand, she held the water sprayer and rinsed her genitals, while with the other hand, she parted her vulva and rubbed it back and forth, her fingers sliding inside her labia. Sometimes she pinched it in and out, her fingers lifting her labia majora. Sometimes she rubbed her entire vulva. This constant rubbing and pinching lasted for a full two minutes. Her movements were so practiced and fluid, almost seamless. This wasn't surprising; she had been washing like this for over 20 years, but I was fortunate enough to witness it today.

Then she went to the shower, propped the showerhead against the wall, and rinsed her entire body. What surprised me was that she wasn't using shower gel, but soap. Later, during our casual conversation, I reminded her that soap is harsh on the skin and she shouldn't use it to bathe. She said she'd been using shower gel for a while, but she didn't seem to realize I was using soap.

After rinsing herself completely, she went to the outer room where she had undressed, took a pre-prepared dry white towel, and dried herself. People often say that a woman is most beautiful after a bath, and what I saw today was certainly true.

She was like a lotus emerging from water, her entire body smooth and fair, her skin like solidified cream, fragrant and beautiful.

I faced a difficult choice: open the door and go in. Before me stood a clean, naked woman, ready to take out my penis and penetrate her. But the dangers were: 1. What if her husband suddenly returned and cornered me in her house? 2. What if she was startled by my sudden appearance and screamed, disturbing the neighbors? Even if it wasn't that serious, what if her daughter was disturbed?

The opportunity before me was once in a lifetime, but I still chose to back out. After watching her get dressed, I gently closed both doors for her.

Once inside, I leaned against the door, trying to calm myself down from the excitement. Less than a minute later, the sounds of the elevator, footsteps in the hallway, and the closing of the door across the hall sent a chill down my spine. If I hadn't remained relatively calm, and had only focused on the immediate pleasure, things would have turned out very badly.

Thankfully, my phone worked well, capturing a clear image of that stunning moment.

Afterwards, we still saw each other frequently. My aunt came back, and she would often visit. She would still smile at me, chat briefly, and act as before. But the way I looked at her was definitely different. No matter how fashionable she was dressed, to me, she was always that smooth, white, naked body.

[The End]

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