[A Love That Could Topple a City] Author: Da Huo Xi Yang

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

Author: Big Fire Sunset
Word Count: 4168

I arrived in Z city at night. Looking down from the plane, Z city didn't seem
any different from other cities I'd lived in or traveled to. The same deep night, dotted with dim yellow lights. The plane
came to a stop , and I turned on my phone.

"Honey, I've arrived." "My wife's at the door."

My heart skipped a beat, as if it would jump out of my chest. Finally, I was going to see her again. My wife.

Everyone around me stood up, impatiently forming a queue in the narrow aisle. I eagerly waited
, and finally, the flow of people began to slowly surge forward. I carried my luggage and got off the plane. But it wasn't the terminal;
it was a shuttle bus. I boarded the shuttle bus. There were no seats left; a girl was leaning against the railing.
She had fair skin, a round, very cute face, and was looking down at her phone, busy sending WeChat messages. The bus was about to
leave . She looked up as if waking from a dream, turned to me and asked, "Does this bus go to the train station?"

I suppressed a laugh and answered seriously, "We haven't left the airport yet. This bus will take us out."
She said "Oh," and continued looking down at her phone.

Perhaps it was her first time flying. I watched the scenery rushing past behind the bus and couldn't help but
smile . Unexpectedly, the girl suddenly looked up at me. I couldn't hide
my smile, so I just kept smiling to show that it had nothing to do with the slightly awkward conversation.

The shuttle bus arrived quickly. My heart was pounding.
As soon as the bus stopped, I rushed off. I quickly reached the crowded exit. People were waiting there, their expectant eyes
straining to see inside. I walked out, searching for her. This one,
no; this one, no; this one, no… Even after I came out, there was still no sign of her. My disappointed
heart started to flutter, and I quickly pulled out my phone.

"I don't see you."

Suddenly, I felt a warmth in my hand. I turned around and saw her. She smiled at me. She was wearing
lipstick today, which made her complexion appear even fairer. Whenever she saw me, her eyes would crinkle with laughter, revealing
a few wrinkles at the corners. She wore a light green coat and a black t-shirt, paired with black skinny jeans
that accentuated her graceful figure. My heart fluttered again.

"Where are you?" I asked.

"At the exit. You didn't see me and came out on your own," she said playfully.

"Oh…" "Oops!" she suddenly exclaimed softly, "My car is still parked outside. If we don't
leave soon, the traffic police will tow it away."

With that, she took my hand and strode towards the airport entrance. This was her habit,
just like our first trip to New York. Braving the biting wind, we wandered the streets,
rushing into every shop. We didn't seem like a couple newly in love, but rather like
an old married couple on a shopping spree in New York. Yes, an old married couple. That was my feeling when I first saw her.

Throughout my life, I've heard countless metaphors about time. One of the most familiar is
comparing time to a river. I admire the brilliance of this metaphor, agree with its aptness, but before meeting her
, I had never truly grasped its meaning. In my naive youth, time
was an illusion, but she made me experience its weighty power.

We met for the first time. We traveled together. We couldn't wait
to make love . After our passionate encounter, we intertwined and chatted. She recounted her past
: a first love that ended without a trace; a hasty and painful first time; a mundane marriage; her husband's infidelity. In her slow narration,
I deeply felt the power of time. Time truly is a river; she stood upstream, and I stood
downstream . I watched her pain helplessly. I could only listen to her story, offering a comforting glance. I
could hold her body, but I couldn't grasp her soul through time. Because that long river of time has separated us
forever , desperately, and lonely. We are like an old married couple, helplessly separated by countless
years.

Loneliness has accompanied me since birth; perhaps I was a rather sensitive child. Perhaps it was because of
my stutter, perhaps because of my family upbringing, but I was never willing to share my feelings with others. I was used to
hiding myself, even from my parents. So after I grew up and left home, I rarely called home.
Because I never had the desire to confide in my parents.

But I was distressed. This was the distress of loneliness, the distress of having no one to confide in. I didn't even have a single
friend. My worries slowly rotted in my heart. Instead of becoming fertilizer, they became poison.
I began to indulge myself. Indulging my emotions. Because I was lonely, I was insignificant, and I wanted someone who could be
intimately close to me. That's all. I may have asked myself many times, where did my problem lie? I have
parents , I have a promising career, and I am quite handsome. But I am so insignificant,
so powerless in the face of life. So much so that I had to numb myself. Why? I don't know. And then, I met
her.

When I came to my senses, we were already in her car. Her car wasn't big, but it was cozy.
Two cute owls hung on the rearview mirror.

"Let's go," she said with a smile.

I smiled and nodded back, about to turn away. But she sneakily leaned closer, pouting her
bright red lips like a teenage girl asking for candy. I smiled knowingly, and my lips met hers.

I remember our first kiss. It was on the plane to New York. I wanted to kiss her, but I didn't dare,
so I brought my face close, feeling the softness of her lips. Yes, I'm such a
courageless person. Even knowing we liked each other, I still didn't dare to make the first move. That flight to New York
was very bumpy, but it was the happiest flight I've ever taken. I remember holding each other's hands
, playing a guessing game. I wrote a word in her palm and she had to guess it; if she guessed wrong, I had to kiss her. And
now , I'm alone in the dark cabin, the monotonous roar of the engine filling my ears, with no one around.
People in the distance, what are you doing? Are you thinking of me too?

Her car quickly drove out of the airport. On the way to the hotel, she asked me if I was hungry and wanted something to eat.
I said I wanted to eat my wife. She laughed and said she'd let me eat my fill. We bought some fruit and headed straight to the hotel. That
night, like any other night we'd spent together, was filled with passion and satisfaction. When she took off her
clothes, leaving only her bra and panties, I couldn't help but hug her tightly, burying my head deep in
her chest. Then I picked her up and threw her hard onto the bed. She gasped, writhing, and laughed, saying,
"The beast is back." Yes, I pressed down on her buttocks, stripping away her last
defenses like a wild beast. I flipped my prey over. She cooperated by spreading her legs, which were already soaking wet
. I only went in a little, and she let out a satisfied moan. When I was fully inside, she
began to moan passionately and writhe beneath me.

The first orgasm came quickly. I felt her body tremble rhythmically; she clung to me tightly,
then suddenly relaxed after a few seconds. She said I was the first man to give her an orgasm. I still vividly
remember our first time in New York. I remember how she cried out as she reached her climax. Later I learned that it was
the first time in her life she had experienced a woman's orgasm.

Before her, I had two girlfriends, both of whom, without exception, orgasmed with me. My
second girlfriend was especially wild; she could orgasm ten or more times in a row during sex, until she couldn't ejaculate anymore.
I admit my sexual ability is indeed quite strong, but perhaps because I masturbate too much, I now need female stimulation
to get an erection. But once I'm aroused, it lasts for an hour without any problem.

However, I'm insecure when it comes to pursuing girls. Yes, I have
an unspoken . I even suspect that if it weren't for my sexual ability, they wouldn't like me. Is that so? The answer
is something I don't know. But love and sex are the most effective ways for me to combat loneliness. She's like a drug,
yet she allows me to escape the pain of wounds. So I can't lose her. Perhaps the vagina is the best
path to a woman's heart. And now, I can't and don't have the time to look elsewhere. My

first night in Z city passed in a frenzy. The next day, she wanted to take me to meet her best friend. We arranged
to have hot pot, but ended up waiting for two hours outside the popular restaurant.
We finished eating around 3 PM and went back to the hotel. Feeling tired after such a big meal, we slept until after 7 AM.
After we ate something and watched a movie. While watching, she snuggled into my bed.

"I want cucumber..." she said with a radiant smile.

Seeing the bulge under the covers, I felt a surge of desire and pulled back the covers. There she was, kneeling between my
legs , her red lips working rhythmically on my "cucumber." I was completely captivated by her body. Although
her skin was no longer young and slightly loose, her curves were still perfect. Especially when she
knelt before me, she could drive any man crazy. I loved her, I loved her body, I loved
her smile, I loved her half-joking words. I was completely infatuated with her. She was an ethereal
spirit who would never grow old.

That night we were exhausted. The next morning, we did it again. Then we got up.

"Come on, I'll show you where I usually hang out," she said.

The weather in Z City was lovely. We left the hotel like two little cave-dwelling animals that hadn't seen the sun in ages,
and climbed into her car. We walked past her workplace, her home, her garage, and her daughter's
school . It didn't take long. And then? Yes, we went shopping. She seemed a little
embarrassed, as if she felt bad that she'd asked me to come all this way, and now she wanted me to go shopping with her. I felt a pang of
sadness . If I could, I wish I could go shopping with you every day, like when we lived together in America.

Our cohabitation stemmed from a cry. That cry happened after we returned to M City from New York. M
City was where we first met. I remember that day I drove her home. Faye Wong's songs were playing in the car.
Our car sped towards her place like a rewind. We chatted casually in the car,
as if we were heading towards the next destination of our journey, not the final one. Our car crossed bridge after bridge,
each bridge remembering our fleeting words, like buoys marking our ending. And when the car finally
crossed the last bridge, she suddenly leaned on my shoulder. I felt a dampness on my shoulder.

I quickly pulled the car over and cupped her face in my hands. Her face was covered in disheveled hair,
revealing an unusual mystery and beauty. Her eyes were slightly closed, her lips slightly parted, she was sobbing,
and the traces of tears streamed down her face, finally disappearing without a trace. I held her, kissed her, and suddenly,
I cried too. My hands pounded the steering wheel, as if it were the shackles of fate. At that
moment , I deeply felt the presence of time. It was profoundly present between us. Its deep power
ruthlessly separated us, making us like the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl, only able to gaze at each other from afar across the Milky Way. In the car, Faye Wong
was still singing "Red Bean": "Sometimes, sometimes, I believe everything has an end..." Yes, everything eventually
comes to an end, but at this moment, I had the courage of a moth drawn to a flame.

This courage gave us six months of sweet time. After returning from New York, she quickly went back to China.
But we still kept in touch. So she soon returned to the United States. We soon moved in together. Those
six months were like paradise. We cooked together, walked together, made love together, slept together. We
looked for a house , decorated the new house together, went shopping together, and so on... Finally, she left.

"I'll see my husband again in a little over a month."

"Honey, the plane will take me away tomorrow, let's not cry, okay?"

"Honey, I love you."

I love you too, my darling. So I came to Z city, without hesitation. And then I still had to
leave . Just after tonight. This night, we made love again and again, imagining
the scenes of us always being together. Finally, we reached climax. We fell into a daze and fell asleep. Is this infatuation, or love? I don't know. All I
know is that because of her, I silently cherish her memory in the darkness. This is the greatest
punishment for a coward like me. I am a timid and pragmatic person. Let me reminisce about this emotion that others despise from within my own shell.

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