【My Lover, My Wife】Author: Fragrant Skirt

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

Author: Fragrant Skirt
Word Count: 10233

I'm 25 years old, three years out of university. Having experienced the initial high spirits of graduation, the harsh
reality , and several job changes, all I want now is a stable job. I don't know if I've been assimilated by society,
or if I'll just fade into obscurity. I just want a quiet job.

I'm single now. My girlfriend broke up with me with a text message three months after graduation, no reason, no explanation,
not even a hint. I can understand, but I'm still resentful. That's when I truly realized that love is priceless
, but maintaining love requires money.

Now I work in an office at a private company. The salary isn't high, but it's stable. Although I only get one day off a week, the work is
easy , giving me extra time to slack off. During work hours, after finishing my tasks, I either read
or daydream, entering an indescribable state. Although I'm 1.8 meters tall and fairly handsome,
the single women in the company are extremely pragmatic, keeping a clear distance from me, not wanting to fall into my
trap and live a life of poverty. However, after entering this state, I suddenly realized that
not only were the single women who could have kept their distance from me paying attention to me, but even married women were gradually
becoming more interested in me.

Could this be the charm revealed after a man's inner self-transcendence?

I wasn't sure, and I couldn't believe it. I continued my usual habit of reading, daydreaming, and spacing out.

I rented a small room in an urban village on the outskirts of the city; it was so cramped it could barely fit a bed.
After three years , without much socializing or extraneous habits like smoking, drinking, or going to nightclubs, I had some savings and
could easily rent a nicer place in a lower-end city apartment. However, I knew I needed to save for my wedding
; my parents in the countryside were getting old, and I needed to send them money home regularly. Therefore, I had to take the bus
for a long time to get to work.

The urban village only had one bus stop, but there were many bus routes, so every morning there were hundreds of
people waiting for the bus. Sometimes I had to squeeze in to avoid being late for work. So, the bus was always packed during rush hour
, like a mobile sardine can.

One day, I was leaving work as dusk approached. The bus was crowded, but relatively quiet, perhaps
because was too tired to chat. Suddenly, I heard a commotion behind me, followed by a soft, high-pitched
female voice. Then, a soft, warm body squeezed behind me. It was late spring, early summer, and people were wearing
light clothing , even short-sleeved dresses. So, I could clearly feel the warmth of the body behind me. Based on my
extensive experience with crowded buses, I knew without turning around that it was a woman, not a young girl, but a middle-aged woman.
Her body lacked the fresh scent of a young girl, and the cheap cosmetics she usually wore. Most importantly,
her body was genuinely soft, lacking the suppleness of a young girl.

I didn't turn around, but subconsciously moved aside to make way. However, the body didn't push past; instead,
it stopped on my right. I knew it was another case of someone using their height advantage to make me
a free shield. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye, and sure enough, it was a middle-aged woman, but only in her early thirties
—the most attractive age for a woman. I couldn't help but look at her a few more times.

Medium height, dressed in a standard gray business suit. Fair skin, round face, shoulder-length short hair.

Average looks. That was my assessment.

I've encountered plenty of women like this on buses; they're not particularly attractive, at most offering
the feeling of physical contact in the crowd. So, I stood still, continuing to daydream.

After a while, this woman suddenly squeezed in front of me. The cramped space forced me to
move back slightly, placing her directly in front of me, enveloped by my arms raised to hold the handrail.

It seemed she wasn't afraid of being taken advantage of; to stand more comfortably, she was willing to
squeeze alongside a young man like me, not afraid of sacrificing some of her looks. I thought to myself.

I wasn't particularly excited; my extensive experience with crowded buses had numbed me to this situation.

So I ignored her, stood still, and continued daydreaming.

But then, another person tried to squeeze in behind me. I immediately became annoyed, because I recognized
him as a man, and a rather burly middle-aged man at that.

Damn it, do you think I'm really that good-tempered?! My first year after graduation, I'd gotten into
fights and ended up in the police station before, all because of fighting over seats on the bus. Now I'm supposed to be more tolerant and not fight for seats anymore? Even if I stand properly, you still want to take my place?

So I stomped my foot, stopped, and turned around, glaring fiercely behind me. Sure enough

, it was a middle-aged man of average height, with a roguish look on his face, thinking he was incredibly charming. He wore cheap
, fashionable clothes, as if he were a millionaire.

However, my murderous glare missed its mark. Because this man's eyes were fixed
on the woman in front of me, especially her two round
, perky buttocks. That's when I realized that the woman in front of me, while of average looks, had a great figure. Especially at her age, maintaining such a curvaceous figure and
slender , she was quite a beauty. No wonder this lecherous man had the audacity to act like a
pervert on the bus.

When the sleazy middle-aged man tried to push forward again, but failed, he finally looked up and
glared at me fiercely with his chubby eyes. However, when he saw my even fiercer gaze, he suddenly
became intimidated. This kind of seasoned thug knew very well that a young man like me was willing
to fight , showing no fear of underworld rules or respect for elders. So, after a moment of hesitation, the sleazy
man greedily stared at the woman's shapely buttocks a few more times before reluctantly retreating and disappearing into the sea of people on the bus.

At this moment, the woman in front of me looked up at me uneasily, her eyes filled with panic and fearful
cowardice. I knew that many women, when encountering a pervert on a bus, would choose to avoid and endure it. If they couldn't
avoid it, they would curse and walk away, or at most get off the bus quickly, preferring to spend another dollar to take another bus.

So, I tactfully moved back a little, allowing the woman leaning against me to stand up straight.

"Thank you!" The woman, seeing my gesture, knew I wasn't another pervert on the bus. Slightly relieved, she
smiled at me and said softly.

I didn't speak, but returned the smile. And so, we rode the bus together without incident.

I thought this was the most insignificant of all the bus-related incidents I'd encountered, so I didn't
pay it and forgot about it after getting off the bus. However, the next day after work, while I was lost in thought, a
soft, warm body suddenly squeezed next to me again. I didn't look down, but instinctively moved aside to make room.

Then, as if she knew her way around, she slipped right in front of me,
pressing herself tightly against the side of the bus.

Huh? So presumptuous?

I felt a surge of anger, but didn't move an inch, using my body to pin the woman firmly against the bus wall.

Although I enjoy bus encounters, especially being pressed so close by a woman's body, in
the crowded rush hour, having a comfortable spot on a bus is far more
important to me than enjoying a romantic encounter next to a woman.

So I lowered my head and glared at her.

Then I froze. It was the same woman from yesterday. Instantly, my nameless anger vanished, and I
smiled apologetically, then moved back a little to make room for her.

The woman seemed to know my feelings, returning my smile with a genuine one, revealing two pearly white teeth.

Her smile was so beautiful!

A ripple stirred within me. Having had one woman and done everything a man should do, I
shouldn't be considered a virgin anymore, right? Add to that my three years of encounters on public transport, and I could be considered quite experienced.

Yet, at this moment, this woman's smile actually stirred my heart.

I've always believed that a woman's smile is the most beautiful flower in the world. And a woman's beauty isn't just her
physical ; it's more about the beauty of her soul revealed in her smile.

At this moment, I truly felt this woman's soulful beauty. It was an experience I'd never had before.

Just then, someone squeezed past me from behind. I knew it was a man, so instinctively, I
shifted my body to shield the woman in front of me.

But at the same time, I suddenly noticed a look of panicked fear in the woman's eyes. I jerked my head around and
saw it was the same sleazy middle-aged man from yesterday.

This time, my fierce glare didn't intimidate him into leaving. Instead, he deliberately kept
a distance from me, looking at me and then at the woman defiantly, indicating he wouldn't give up until he got what he wanted.

The woman got scared and turned her back to me, seemingly playing the ostrich, out of sight, out of mind.

However, as soon as she turned away, I couldn't help but groan. The woman's two round, firm
buttocks were right between my legs. Even with just two layers of fabric, or four layers
including , it couldn't hide the warm, soft sensation from her buttocks.

My penis instantly hardened.

The woman seemed to realize the inappropriateness of her position and quickly shifted her body, trying to distance herself
. But in the crowded, immobile carriage, how could she possibly move? Her movement only further
aroused making it incredibly hard, and it instantly became erect, perfectly positioned between the woman's round buttocks.

*Whoosh!* The hard, erect penis, burning hot like a scorching iron rod, made the woman
gasp softly. Then, she froze, her eyes filled
with panicked pleading. A woman her age was intimately familiar with men; how could she not recognize my
reaction? Even her sudden stillness was an
instinctive response to her familiarity with male erections, a reaction that couldn't be continued.

"I'm sorry, I…" I was young, after all. Although I'd been a man before and had experienced arousal during a bus encounter,
this was the first time I'd truly experienced the classic position of a bus pervert.

I panicked, forgetting the lecherous man behind me, forgetting the crowded people around me, and tried to back away,
but I couldn't move. Instead, the swaying made my erection between the woman's round buttocks even more
pronounced . My face flushed red, and sweat beaded on my forehead.

"Pfft…" Seeing my reaction, the woman's panic subsided, and she couldn't help but chuckle softly.

"Fool, just stand there and don't move. It'll be fine in a bit," the woman gently scolded me,
turning her head away from me and remaining still. My hard, erect penis remained firmly nestled
between her warm, round buttocks, gradually sinking in with the swaying of the bus until my
lower abdomen was pressed tightly against her soft buttocks.

Perhaps seeing the woman's intimate moment with me, the lecherous man glanced at me in surprise, but instead of the expected
anger , he gave a strange, silent smirk, seemingly confirming that his target was so understanding,
not making a scene even after being taken advantage of by this young man. Thus, the lecherous man seemed to see himself
in my position, firmly trapping the woman, enjoying the classic position that bus perverts dream of.

The woman and I stood there intimately close, and with the swaying of the bus, I gradually became familiar with and deeply
felt the ecstasy of the woman's round buttocks undulating. We didn't even realize when the lecherous man behind us
had left.

After an announcement at a stop, the woman turned her head away, avoiding my gaze, and whispered, "I've arrived." What had seemed like
an incredibly long and tedious bus ride to me suddenly felt incredibly short. I knew
my moral compass wouldn't allow me to continue, so I tactfully and apologetically gave her my
seat. She immediately pulled away, got off the bus, and disappeared into the crowd.

That night, I had a wet dream; I, who like to sleep naked, had ejaculated all over my blanket.

When I woke up in the morning, I was utterly shocked to see the wet patch.

Since I learned to masturbate at fourteen, I had never had a wet dream—and now I had one?

The next day at work, I was in a daze all day, not knowing what I had done. When it was time to leave work, I
felt an inexplicable sense of anticipation. Once on the bus, I lost my usual composure,
staring , looking around absentmindedly. The girls standing nearby, thinking I was a newly minted
, naive bus pervert looking for a target, gradually moved away from me with disgust.

What should have been a short journey of just a few stops felt like several trips in a row. I grew increasingly anxious and
hopeless, and continued to stand there, lost in thought.

I don't know how much time passed, but suddenly a familiar scream came from the crowd not far away. My heart
skipped a beat, and I immediately pushed through the disgruntled crowd.

Sure enough, the familiar figure of that woman appeared before my eyes, but her eyes were filled with boundless
fear . The lewd middle-aged man had trapped her between the car pillar and the back of the adjacent seat, making
it impossible for her to move. He was pressing his entire body against hers. The people around them
were indifferent; several girls, seemingly relieved not being targeted,
watched the woman with glee.

I was instantly enraged. I pushed through the crowd, shoved the man aside, and pulled the woman into my arms,
intending to take her away. However, the man used his position to
wed , looking at me defiantly.

Normally, I would have punched him in the face. But now, I
simply glared at him fiercely and slowly reached into my pocket. The man's face changed drastically; he even began
to show fear. I knew he was afraid I'd pull out a weapon. This is something men my age
often do when provoked, especially by women, and I do it without considering the consequences.

So, I deliberately paused for a moment after reaching into my pocket with my right hand, my fierce gaze seemingly hesitant about
something . Then I shifted my position, slowly pulled it out, and held a hundred-yuan bill.

Seeing I hadn't pulled out a weapon, the sleazy man breathed a sigh of relief, his eyes immediately filled with greed.
Without thinking he grabbed the hundred-yuan bill from my chest, trying to snatch it. But I didn't let go,
still glaring at him fiercely. The sleazy man was startled, then realized my intention. He immediately shifted his body,
releasing the woman's handbag. Then he tugged at the hundred-yuan bill in my hand, thinking we'd made a deal, but I
still didn't let go.

The sleazy man glared at me, somewhat embarrassed and angry. I slowly reached my left hand into my pocket, and
he froze , looking at me and then at the woman. Finally, he understood what I meant, grinning lewdly as he lightly patted his
cheek and then his chest. Only then did I release the hundred-yuan bill from my hand.

I knew the sleazy man wouldn't bother the woman in my arms anymore. This kind of scoundrel, though shameless,
was quite respectful of men's money. If he took my money and then went back on his word, not only would I
let him experience the true meaning of physical violence, but his thugs would also despise him. This
was the classic scoundrel type, obsessed with saving face and suffering for it.

Having resolved the woman's crisis, I led her to a corner of the carriage. Neither of us spoke.
This time didn't turn to the side or her back to me; instead, she gently leaned against my chest, her hands softly around my
waist, her entire weight pressing against me.

This position allowed me to deeply feel how soft and large her firm breasts were.
It felt like two warm hot water bottles placed against my chest.

And this position allowed her mature scent to easily enter my nostrils, letting
me breathe in her unique aroma, and the sexual information that excites every man.

I knew the woman was aroused. Because I had repeatedly helped her escape the bus pervert, and even more so because I had
permanently rid herself of the stalker who had been following her with a hundred-yuan bill.

Sometimes, women are that simple. Protect her when she needs it most, and she will be moved, her
heart stirred.

I knew my penis was hard again, slowly rising along the woman's lower abdomen. Because I
was moved too. Protecting a woman is a man's instinct, and the thrill of that success is no less than the sexual
pleasure . Especially since the woman in my arms was a married woman, such a beautiful married woman.

A pleasure that transcended morality made my heart pound. As if knowing my thoughts, my
hard, large penis throbbed powerfully with my heartbeat.

The woman in my arms hadn't moved
an inch since I nestled against her, not even as my massive penis plunged deep into the soft flesh of her lower abdomen.

I knew she knew my feelings.

So, I gently stroked her back with both hands, then naturally placed them on her round
buttocks , slowly but firmly grasping them.

"Hiss…be gentle." Perhaps my touch was too strong, the woman groaned softly, whispering in my
arms. I immediately eased my pressure, my desire calming down. I remained erect
, simply holding the woman in my arms, gently stroking her back and buttocks.

Three years had passed. My setbacks at work, my failures in love, my confusion about life,
my helplessness had made me forget the taste of a woman.

At this moment, I suddenly felt real, felt like a real man.

And so, when I heard the familiar bus stop announcement, I suddenly realized I had arrived at my stop, while
the woman in my arms had already passed her stop.

At that moment, the woman looked up at my surprised expression and smiled slightly.

"No one's home tonight, I don't need to go home." My heart skipped a beat, and a surge
of desire instantly appeared in my eyes.

I didn't say anything, but instead pulled the woman off the bus, half-dragging, half-carrying her back to my cramped
rented room.

Once inside, as soon as the door closed, the woman and I seemed to understand each other perfectly. Without a word,
we embraced passionately, kissing each other wildly, tearing at each other's clothes.

Soon, the woman's mysterious, delicate body, clad in a gray business suit, was revealed before me. Fair and flawless,
warm and soft, with a fragrant aroma.

I buried my face in the woman's large breasts, licking, sucking, and
biting them . The woman clenched her teeth, letting out seductive moans, understandingly thrusting her chest forward, allowing me
to savor her breasts even more thoroughly.

When I kissed between the woman's legs, the sparse, feather-like pubic hair and the slightly parted,
pale pink labia minora instantly ignited all my desire.

I didn't bother to first taste this most mysterious part of her body with my own mouth; instead, I pushed her
legs up to her breasts, knelt abruptly on the bed, and slowly but firmly pressed my large, hard penis
against the tips of her already moist, pale pink labia minora.

The slippery, warm sensation from the glans was intoxicating; I could no longer resist.
I thrusting my hips forward.

"Splash!" "Ah..." Accompanied by the woman's suppressed scream, and a muffled sound
like , my large, long penis plunged deep into her vagina.

This mysterious place was so hot and slippery; the slight contractions almost made me ejaculate prematurely.

This woman's vagina felt so good! It wasn't as tight as my ex-girlfriend's, but it had a softness I had never experienced before.
It seemed that every fold of flesh inside her vagina brought indescribable pleasure to my hard penis.

And my hard penis seemed to be larger and longer than any woman had ever had, causing
her delicate eyebrows to furrow slightly as she eagerly responded to me.

That night, the woman and I didn't eat dinner; we kept having passionate intercourse. I thrust deeply, and when she got tired,
she sat on me and vigorously moved her hips.

Perhaps it was the wet dream last night that gave me the ability to last longer. Even after the woman climaxed, we held each other
tightly and fell into a deep sleep. I still hadn't ejaculated; my penis remained hard
inside her as we drifted off to sleep together.

The next morning, we both woke up at the same time, neither of us speaking, and continued our frenzied lovemaking
until time forced us to go to work. And I still hadn't ejaculated.

Although the woman was worried that I hadn't ejaculated when we parted, I could see
in her eyes a deep appreciation for my performance and a profound attachment.

At work, I suddenly regretted not asking the woman's name or her contact
information. So, I anxiously awaited the end of the workday.

Finally, the end of the workday arrived, and I rushed out of the company gate and squeezed onto the bus. I didn't know if this was the right time
; my only thought was to see the woman on the bus.

Time ticked by, and I kept looking around, as if time had stopped.

Finally, when the bus stopped at a bus stop, a familiar figure boarded. I could see clearly
the woman 's eyes filled with endless anticipation and anxious searching. When she saw me, she smiled instantly,
like a blooming rose.

The woman walked up to me, habitually standing in front of me, her arms around my waist and her chest, like lovers reunited
after a long separation.

My penis, as always, was hard, even harder and larger because of last night's frenzied passion without ejaculation.

As the rush hour crowd engulfed us, and we squeezed into a corner of the carriage, the woman's right hand reached
between my legs, slowly unzipping my pants, then pulling my underwear aside, and laboriously
pulling out my large, hard penis.

Then, the woman looked up and gently kissed me, slowly turning around, using her round, pert
buttocks to tightly hold my exposed penis.

Only then did I realize that the woman was wearing a very short skirt that barely covered her hips, though her
coat and stockings had made it go unnoticed.

Suddenly, I understood the woman's intentions.

A clandestine encounter on a bus—this was the ultimate goal countless bus perverts dream of but could never achieve!

My heart pounded, and then a strange sense of guilt and shame washed over me. I glanced
around and saw that everyone was still absorbed in their own worlds, oblivious to our presence. The lecherous middle-aged man from yesterday
hadn't appeared either, which reassured me.

The next moment, I slowly lifted the woman's skirt, slipped my enormous penis inside, and covered it with
the skirt. Reaching between her legs, I tried to pull down her panties, only to discover they were
empty.

It turned out the woman had planned this bus encounter all along.

My heart leaped with joy! Such a beautiful woman was truly rare. So, I groped for a
moist spot, ready to thrust, but because of my incorrect position, I couldn't penetrate. After several attempts, almost attracting the
attention of those around me, I remember being drenched in sweat.

"Fool, you're so stupid!" The woman turned her head and gave me a flirtatious glare, then slightly lifted
her hips and swayed her waist. With a soft "plop," my enormous glans, which I couldn't even insert with my hand, was firmly
sucked in by her lift and sway.

This is what a married woman is like! Even though she still looks as innocent and shy as a young girl, she's already a master in matters of sex, a
self-taught expert.

So, I thrust my hips forward, and the rest of my penis plunged into the woman's
wet and soft body.

After that, neither of us moved, relying only on the swaying of the bus to create friction between our bodies,
producing unparalleled pleasure in our affair.

All the way, I felt like I was in a dream, almost groaning. The woman, on the other hand, kept her head down and covered her mouth,
remaining silent.

Finally, as we approached our stop, I could no longer withstand the waves of intense pleasure and
ejaculated inside the woman.

One spurt, another, and another! I ejaculated more than a dozen times before stopping. But my penis remained incredibly hard.

The woman didn't seem to mind me ejaculating inside her. After I finished, she didn't immediately make me pull out
and wipe myself. Instead, she continued to envelop my penis with her body until the pleasure subsided and it
gradually softened and shrank. Only then did she stuff a pre-prepared tissue between her legs, slowly turn around, and
carefully wipe my muddy penis, using her loose top as cover.

"My husband is away on a business trip tomorrow, and my daughter is back in her dorm. Do you have time?" the woman said softly after
gently cleaning my penis, then carefully tucked it into my underwear and zipped up my pants.

"Yes." I knew what that meant. It meant that my relationship with the woman wasn't just a one-night stand,
but something that could last.

"This is my phone number. We'll contact each other tomorrow." The woman handed me a tissue, turned, got out of the car, and left,
leaving me tossing and turning all night.

The next day after work, I contacted the woman by phone and went to her house as agreed. This was
an ordinary residential area. The woman's home had four bedrooms and two living rooms. Although the interior decoration was simple, it was not
shabby.

The woman was wearing a pink, semi-transparent nightgown, which aroused my desire. Just as I was about to make a move,
the woman angrily stopped me, saying, "Silly boy, let's eat first. We have time tonight." So, under the woman's
endless finished the dinner she had carefully prepared for me without tasting it.

After dinner, ignoring the woman's insistence on clearing the table, I forced her down onto the messy surface and
brutally raped her.

This time, she didn't hold back, but moaned loudly, completely unconcerned about the neighbors hearing.

After the passion subsided, the woman, weak and exhausted, cleaned up the dining room, and we took
a bath their bedroom.

Above the large bed hung a wedding photo of the woman and her husband. Perhaps due to its age, it was somewhat
faded and blurry, and I couldn't see it clearly.

Holding the woman on her soft bed, I had a strange feeling, as if I were in my own home.

That night, we didn't make love. When my penis became hard and erect again, I simply
penetrated her deeply. The woman lay on top of me, and we caressed each other, softly
talking .

That night, I learned the woman's name, her past life, and her seemingly harmonious
but unhappy family.

The woman, also from a rural background, broke up with her first love after graduating from university to stay in the city and married
a colleague who owned the house and had been pursuing her relentlessly. After marriage, her husband treated her well, but she always felt
something was missing. Until one day, she overheard her husband drunkenly bragging to his friends, saying that even the most beautiful woman
needs a house, and with a house, she could have a good woman—look at his wife! At that moment, the woman realized that her husband
had married her only because she was beautiful, only because she was the most beautiful woman he had ever met. His kindness towards her after marriage
was merely a man's obligation. Later, she accidentally discovered a hard drive containing
videos and photos of her husband having affairs with other women during his business trips.

The woman wasn't angry, nor resentful, and she didn't divorce him. She acted as if she knew nothing about it,
continuing her seemingly harmonious but ultimately estranged life with her husband. The woman knew that, ultimately, she
had no reason to blame her husband. "If I hadn't wanted to stay in the city, if I hadn't so desperately
wanted a house, I probably wouldn't have broken up with my first love, I probably wouldn't have agreed to marry my current husband,
and I wouldn't be living the city life I dreamed of—seemingly happy, but like a walking corpse.

Until I met you," the woman said.

She felt like she was seeing her first love again, or rather, she felt like she was experiencing her first love.

I have a special allure that attracts women. So, when she encountered the lewd middle-aged
man on the bus, she couldn't help but want to get closer to me. And so, after several encounters, our relationship developed,
leading to this moment in her home, in front of her wedding photo, me deeply penetrating her with my hard, thick penis,
lying on her bed, having a heart-to-heart talk with her.

"What do you think we should do in the future? Should we keep looking for every opportunity to meet? Or should we enjoy this night and then
go back to our own lives, never to contact each other again?" After a long silence, the woman asked softly.

"I don't know, we can just let things take their course. If we can meet, we can meet; if we have to part, we can part. No forcing,
no clinging. Just being the closest lovers," I said slowly after a long silence.

"I'm suddenly so scared, I'll never see you again in this life." Suddenly, the woman began to sob, her
soft body trembling violently, making my penis, already deeply inside her, even harder with pleasure.

So, I threw the woman onto the bed and pounced on her, fucking her hard.

The woman, moaning and crying, murmured that she didn't want to leave me.

Just as I was about to ejaculate, the woman suddenly said, "I've thought of a way, we'll never be
apart." Instantly, the woman's words jolted me back to reality, and I no longer had the desire to ejaculate.

Did the woman want to divorce her current husband and be with me? I was filled with fear, lest I
become the tragic figure of "picking up a girl and ending up with a husband."

Although I wasn't sure how I felt about this woman, perhaps it was just because I had been lonely for a long time and found someone
to relieve it , I was very clear that it would never involve marriage.

"Aren't you married yet? My daughter is graduating high school soon. Although she's nine years younger than you, she's
not that old. She's not good at studying, so why don't you marry her?
That The woman's words were like a bomb, leaving me stunned and speechless.

I didn't believe she was the kind of person who would commit incest. Perhaps, when she said that, she hadn't even considered
it incest. She simply wanted to be with me forever, to enjoy the kind of
intense sexual pleasure she would never experience again, and the unspoken, age-defying affection
.

Then, shamefully, I became hard. My heart trembled as if I were dying. But I responded to her proposal with even more
frenzied thrusting.

I didn't answer, and she didn't ask. But we both knew that I agreed to her proposal.

So, in the days that followed, I made her moan and climax in every corner of her house, and during
these climaxes, she told me everything about her daughter. Then, she tried every means to establish
a relationship between us.

And I, as an older brother, gradually conquered this gentle girl, as tender as a woman, making her
infatuated with me, determined to marry no one else.

Not long after, on her eighteenth birthday, as she graduated from high school, I gently but firmly broke
her hymen—a hymen as pink as her mother's—and I knew then that I had fallen deeply in love with this girl,
that I would forever possess this pure and gentle girl. At the same time, I would forever possess her mother.

Is this incest? I don't think so, and neither does the woman. We simply found a way to happily accompany

each other through life's endless sea of suffering .

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