Tomorrow I'll be someone else's woman.

page views:1 Publication date:2022-09-28

(I) December 10, 2002. Exactly one year ago, Xiao Yan really flew away to France to marry a man more than ten years her senior. I was in a very bad mood that day. But I couldn't stop it from happening, because she was just my lover, my best lover. Although I never said I loved her, I truly realized when she left that seven years of relationship, if not love, was very close to the edge of love. Three days before she left, as usual, I called her at noon to confirm she was free, and then booked a room at a nearby hotel. Xiao Yan arrived at the hotel quickly. I was idly playing games on my phone and, as usual, didn't go to take a shower first. I hadn't locked the door, so when Yan tiptoed to my side, I was really startled. She was wearing a red sweater and a yellow jacket. Her long hair was slightly smoky. She was thirty years old, yet still so beautiful and charming. With her full breasts, although not tall, she was captivating. "You startled me," I said, laughing as I put my phone away. "I'm sorry," Yan said, snuggling into my arms with a smile. "Have you got your plane ticket all sorted out?" I whispered in her ear, gently inhaling the scent of her hair. "Yes," Yan replied softly, her beautiful eyes blinking. A pang of pain shot through me. Although Yan had never told me her real purpose for going to France, I knew she was getting married. Although she repeatedly told me she was only visiting her uncle and had only gotten a one-month visitor visa, I knew she was getting married. More than two months ago, Yan asked me to translate some English for her visa application. But I inadvertently found a letter, the contents of which told me everything. In the past month, I had asked her out three times. This was far more frequent than our usual dates. I knew she was leaving, but I hadn't told her. In fact, I knew she was getting married. "Yan, come here," I said, pulling Yan to the sofa. I sat on the sofa, and Yan obediently sat on my lap. "Kneel down, kneel between my legs," I commanded. I had never ordered her to do anything before, though she always did. "What's wrong?" Yan asked, somewhat surprised, but still obediently did as I said. I didn't say anything, just unzipped my pants and took out my penis. It was already erect, standing tall. Yan knelt before me, kissing it earnestly, taking it into her mouth, and moving her head. Her loose hair gently brushed against my lower abdomen, tickling me, yet stirring my emotions. Bright red lipstick left streaks of blood on my penis, but these were quickly blurred by her saliva. I knew this was the last time. My heart ached. Although it's my nature to cherish women, I no longer felt sorry for her. Thinking of her future husband, my heart felt so lost. I made her release her grip on the base of my penis and said, "I want you to swallow it all." Yan was somewhat surprised and said, "I've never tried this before." Of course, I knew she had never tried it before, but this was her first time, and possibly my last. I pressed her head down hard, and she tried her best to push my penis deep into her throat. The first time she choked a little, but the second time it was fine. I don't know if the tip of my penis had reached beyond her throat, all the way to her esophagus. But it was certain that my penis was completely in her mouth. The tip of my penis was completely enveloped, so soft, so warm. I thought, this must be the art of deep throating. The fleshy walls surrounding the tip of my penis began to undulate, rubbing against my glans with extreme pleasure. I thrust back and forth, short and careful, but decisively. I was surprised that Yan didn't vomit. I knew that this method was very comfortable for men, but definitely uncomfortable for women. But I couldn't care less; I just wanted to go deeper and deeper, because tomorrow she was marrying someone else. Although it was only for a few dozen seconds, I plunged deep into her throat. I could really feel it; here was the entrance to her throat, and there, probably her esophagus. That feeling, that intense yet gentle writhing, the stimulation of being enveloped by the unfamiliar flesh of her mouth, was just to make myself remember her deeply, because tomorrow she was going to marry someone else. I knew she couldn't hold on any longer, so I let her go. Yan rushed to the bathroom and vomited there. When she returned to my side, her eyes were full of tears. She knelt in front of me again, gently resting her head on my lap. I pulled Yan up and hugged her tightly. I knew that after seven years, it was finally time for us to break up. My heart ached terribly. The past years flashed before my eyes. (II) Four or five years ago, I met a college friend on a train. We talked about women, and his opinion was that it was better to pay for a prostitute than to have a lover, because having a lover took time, energy, and money. I, however, had a completely different view from his. I had never visited a prostitute, but I had always maintained contact with my extramarital lover. Between lovers, though we never spoke of love, the feelings deepened over time. A woman with feelings, refreshing yet charming, is truly wonderful as a lover; she complements marriage and family. I don't demand that my lover be my only one, but I only require that she respect herself, because that commands respect. Regarding Xiaoyan, I was her second man. In those seven years, while I wasn't her only one, I was her last man before she married. Please don't attack me. It was the summer of 1995. "I'm a military wife, are you afraid?" Xiaoyan said to me with a smile. Although I had received many threats and even been disciplined for fighting in school, Xiaoyan's words were the most unsettling. I was so afraid that, even though it was eight years ago, I still couldn't describe in detail the scene of our first intimate encounter. Even though it was just a kiss. "Wait a minute, I'm not married yet, how could you be married?" After a long pause, I finally realized what she meant, suppressing my panic, and asked her doubtfully. "Hehe, my boyfriend is in the army." I have absolute respect for soldiers. Although it was just a kiss, I felt deeply remorseful for my mistake. After obediently taking her home, I never had any further thoughts about her, so we remained just good friends and colleagues. In the spring of '96, I got married. Xiao Yan came too, and I remember she drank a lot. Later, her friend who saw her off told me that she cried in the car. At the time, I just felt a little strange because our relationship wasn't that deep; maybe she was just thinking about something sad. The answer wouldn't be known until our first time together. But this incident caused some rumors at work. However, Xiao Yan and I had a clear conscience, so we didn't care and continued our friendly interactions, but it seemed that there was a greater sense of concern and intimacy in our hearts. In the summer of '96, a full year had passed since my first kiss with Xiao Yan. Xiao Yan didn't come to work for a week. I was puzzled and called her home. She invited me to a bar. "I broke up with him." These were the first words Xiao Yan said to me. Xiao Yan hadn't changed much; she was still beautiful and didn't seem as sad, but her mood was clearly low. If she had seemed more sorrowful, I think I would have hugged her. But she was so calm that I could only sit quietly and listen to her story. Xiao Yan's boyfriend's parents were officials in the Public Security Bureau and knew her parents. When Xiao Yan was still in university, her brother got into trouble, so her parents asked them for help. The matter was resolved, of course, but Xiao Yan also became that man's girlfriend. Her boyfriend wasn't handsome and hadn't gone to university. But because of his good background, he quickly became an officer in the armed police. Xiao Yan gave him her virginity, but he never cherished her. They broke up because he had a new girlfriend. Although Xiao Yan had always known her boyfriend's temper, she had endured it until now. She talked for about half an hour, becoming more and more heartbroken, and tears streamed down her face. I felt very sorry for her, but I knew I couldn't help her. That night, she drank a lot. I only drank a little because I had to go home that night. By the time I took her to her doorstep, Yan was already calm. She said to me, "I'm going to work tomorrow. Thank you for keeping me company." I wanted to hug her, but I was afraid it would seem like I was taking advantage of her, so I restrained myself. Yan smiled at me, waved, and turned to disappear into the dark corridor. I didn't leave until her room light came on. A sudden sense of relief washed over me. What would tomorrow bring? Sigh, what a lustful man. Three months later, the weather had turned cold. A project in Nanjing had run into some problems, and I had to go there in person. Before leaving, I ran into Yan, who said to me, "What a coincidence! I'm also going to Nanjing the day after tomorrow. Can you wait for me? Can we go together?" Our company was large, and Yan and I weren't in the same department, so no one knew we were going together. I made up an excuse to delay for a day and secretly boarded the train to Nanjing with Yan. She was the only person I knew on the train, so I felt very happy. I often stared at her, and the only thing I said most often was, "Yan, you're so beautiful." We arrived in Nanjing together, but we were going to different places. I mustered my courage and asked her to meet me that evening. YanI happily agreed. Since we weren't familiar with the area, we decided to meet at the train station. We agreed not to bring any colleagues and to keep it a secret. It was a happy night. We went hand in hand to Xinjiekou and then to Nanjing University. Around ten o'clock, I said to Yanzi, "Don't go back. Stay with me tonight." Yanzi shyly nodded in agreement. The rest was simple. I went to book a room by myself and then took Yanzi to a hotel whose name I've forgotten. There were no extra words. Once in the room, I hugged her tightly, and she hugged me back. I explored Yanzi's lips. She raised her head, closed her eyes, and slightly opened her mouth. I kissed her deeply. I passionately sucked on her tongue, and she groaned softly in pain. I pressed her against the wall and caressed her breasts. She didn't resist, but just kissed me forcefully, her breathing rapid. I took off her coat, pulled up her sweater, and easily unhooked her bra. Her firm, full breasts sprang out, appearing before my eyes. Her delicate, white skin and pink nipples had hardened. I lowered my head and took one of her breasts into my mouth. I tried to take her entire breast into my mouth, though I knew it was impossible. I teased her swollen nipple with my tongue, circling it and feeling it grow larger. I kneaded her other breast with my other hand, and Yan held my head, moaning softly. A sea of desire engulfed us. I laid Yan down on the bed, quickly stripped off our clothes, and slipped under the covers. Passion needs no foreplay. My young penis was already hard. I knew the night was long, and I had many opportunities. I parted her legs, aimed at her peach blossom cave, and thrust in all the way. The bedside lamp was on, illuminating Yan's pink face, her long eyelashes pressed together, and I couldn't see the thoughts in her eyes. I lay on top of her, letting my penis thrust in and out of her vagina. I didn't even get a good look at her genitals, just noticed the thick hair there, rubbing against my crotch, causing an itchy, uncomfortable feeling. Yan was very wet, the fluids flowing onto the sheets. She was also very excited, breathing heavily. Yan was somewhat restrained, simply spreading her legs, feeling my movements inside her, but offering little additional cooperation. I've never quite believed that a passionate man could last so long the first time with his lover. Every time I was with Yan after that, I always needed to be very restrained to avoid ejaculating too early the first time. Soon I felt my climax approaching. I didn't try to control it, but instead quickened my movements. I knew I should consider Yan's feelings and help her reach orgasm. But I knew there was still a whole night ahead, many more opportunities. (Only today did I suddenly realize that this night was the only complete night Yan and I would have, and from now on, it would only be half a day. This suddenly filled me with a strange sadness.) Yan seemed to suddenly realize something, pulling me into her arms, holding me tightly, her legs wrapped around my back. We kissed passionately, and I quickened the depth and intensity of my movements. Afraid she'd get pregnant, I forcefully pulled away from her embrace and ejaculated onto her stomach. Yan looked at me and said something I'll never forget: "It's so hot." During the shower, there was no more shyness. We acted like a couple who had been married for years, lathering each other with shower gel. I kissed her breasts frequently, and even knelt down to kiss her clitoris. Her labia were quite plump, with pink, tender flesh inside, and her vaginal opening was small. Hot water poured down her body, wetting my face. I kissed her with my eyes closed, taking her clitoris into my mouth. Yan wasn't used to it and quickly tried to pull me up. I wanted Yan to kiss my genitals, but she refused, saying she wasn't used to it. I didn't force her. But I wasn't unhappy either. I understood; Yan didn't have much experience yet, and there were many aspects that needed to be explored. When we returned to bed, Yan lay naked in my arms. Her smooth skin and rounded shoulders shimmered pleasingly in the light. Soft breasts pressed against my chest, long hair cascading over my shoulders. I felt happy and lucky. "Yan, I heard you cried at my wedding?" I finally asked the question that had been bothering me for so long. "Yes. But don't be vain, it wasn't for you," Yan said, wrinkling her nose at me. A slight disappointment welled up inside me, but I didn't say anything. After all, a man shouldn't ask for too much. "Then why?" "You got married so young," Yan said casually, a seemingly unrelated remark that made me sigh. Yes, I got married at twenty-seven, while many of my friends didn't even have a partner then. "Yeah, my wife pressured me, and besides, I didn't want to drag her along any longer." Yan suddenly leaned forward and said very seriously, "I really like you, do you believe me?" I didn't say anything, just hugged her tightly again. Women are emotional creatures. And often, feelings don't need a reason. Girls in the 1970s read a lot of romance novels and were greatly influenced by them; they often liked someone without a reason. I'm quite handsome and rose to a middle management position at work quickly. Several girls liked me, so I genuinely believed what she said. I couldn't help but wonder, if she hadn't told me she was a military wife, and if I were her first man, would I have left my girlfriend for Yanzi? Thinking about it carefully, the answer was no. Although my wife isn't as beautiful as Yanzi, I have a greater sense of responsibility towards her. This kind of responsibility wouldn't be easily abandoned by any woman. The thought of marrying Yanzi surfaced from time to time over the years, but it was always just a fleeting impulse. Especially when Yanzi gradually revealed her fiery passion in bed, I would always compare her to my somewhat conservative wife, and I would often feel a deep sense of longing, hoping only for the next life. "When you got married, I remembered how my boyfriend hurt me, and I felt your wife was so lucky, so I cried. But it was quite sad; I wish I were the bride," Yanzi suddenly said in my arms. Yanzi's words suddenly reminded me of my wife, and I felt a pang of guilt and a slight tension, realizing there was something wrong with women's thinking. So I said, "Don't say that. If my wife knew I looked like this, would she still be happy?" "You know, everyone at work says you're a good husband, so good to your wife. Just don't let her know." Xiao Yan was telling the truth. I am a family man. But I need passion in my mundane life. I'm very good to my wife, but is she happy? I often ask myself this question now, especially after hurting her once. But back then, I thought that as long as I was careful, things could always be hidden. "Yan, be my lover. I don't need your love, and I won't say I love you, but I hope we can be happy together, I hope I can bring you some happiness. We'll be very, very good friends, we'll have feelings, very deep feelings, okay?" I don't know if this is self-deception, but I really asked her for this. Yan didn't say anything, just held me tightly. From that moment on, Yan was destined to marry and eventually leave me, but I didn't expect that her marriage would be six years later. After resting for a while, I felt ready again. I laid Yan down, ready to serve her. I gently kissed her neck, breathing warm air into her ear, then slowly kissed my way down to her breasts. Her smooth, full, and youthful breasts exuded a faint scent of post-bath fragrance. I kissed them tenderly, sucking on her nipples, gently biting them with my teeth, and licking them with my tongue. Yan couldn't help but moan. I parted her legs, intending to kiss between them. Yan pulled me away, saying, "No, it's dirty." "It's alright, Yan, close your eyes. I want you to be happy. You will be happy." Ignoring her protests, I buried my face between her legs. There was no unpleasant odor, only the scent of shower gel. I parted her labia with my tongue, trying to press it against her vaginal opening. A thin, viscous liquid, like egg white, seeped from the opening, which I scooped into my mouth. As I licked her clitoris, the liquid increased, and I became increasingly frenzied. I tried to insert my tongue into her vagina, suck on her clitoris, tighten her vagina with my fingers to expose her clitoris, reach up and grab her breasts with one hand, or cover her legs with my entire mouth, hold my breath, and rub my tongue around. Yan hummed passionately, but covered her face with her hands. I pulled her hands away and made her look at me. Yan refused, so I forced her to do so, making her open her eyes and look at me. Yan still didn't open her eyes, but her legs suddenly clamped around my head, and she couldn't help but groan loudly. I knew she was about to climax, so I licked her even harder. "No, no," Yan grabbed me tightly, her body twisting painfully, desperately trying to move her lower body away and pulling me up. "What's wrong?" I asked her. "It's too stimulating, it's uncomfortable," Yan said, almost crying. I thought, oral sex is stimulating, and it might be uncomfortable when you're not used to it.So I stopped insisting. Because I'd been distracted, my penis hadn't gotten erect. I said to Yan, "Yan, kiss me." Yan obediently sat up to kiss my lips. I chuckled inwardly, thinking she was silly. "Kiss me down there, okay?" Yan finally understood, hesitated a bit, then nodded. Women need to be moved; that's my philosophy. I sat on Yan's face and put my penis in her mouth. Yan's head was between my legs, sucking on my penis. Her teeth were a little bit pressing against my penis, making me uncomfortable. I asked her to pry her lips open a little, not to hurt me with her teeth, and Yan closed her eyes and did as I said. My penis quickly swelled in her mouth, and although she didn't know how to use her tongue yet, she tried to lick me there. I held onto the edge of the bed, moving in and out of her mouth. Trying to go deeper, Yan didn't protect herself and almost choked. A snow-white face, a black penis, red lips—Yan's oral sex brought me endless pleasure. With each thrust, glistening saliva glistened on my penis, and my heart was satisfied. Entering her again, I felt her body was incredibly wet. The deep and shallow thrusts were incredibly pleasurable. She was very wet, and sometimes the impact made a squelching sound. Yan asked if it sounded bad, but I said it sounded great. Yan's orgasm came quickly. She kept saying "comfortable, comfortable," and started squeezing my waist with her legs. I thrust with all my might, feeling her vagina contract rhythmically, sometimes so tightly it hurt my penis, as if trying to squeeze it out of her body. But Yan clearly wasn't fully enjoying the orgasm yet, because she wasn't going wild. After a while, she just enjoyed my thrusting, but stopped contracting. Yan wasn't used to it, but she still agreed to my request and we changed positions. I entered her vagina from behind. Her anus was beautiful, truly like a chrysanthemum, pink in color. I didn't know about anal sex then; my anal sex with Yan came much later. Watching this flower-like woman beneath me, my penis moving so clearly in and out of her body, was a visual treat. Slowly, Yan became a little dry. I asked her if she'd ever had an orgasm. She said yes. Most women are probably like that at the beginning. Women who can experience orgasm right away are rare in real life. "Then I'll cum," I said. "Mmm," Yan nodded. "I want to cum in your mouth, okay?" I pleaded. "I've never done it before, next time, okay? I'm not used to it," Yan said softly. Perhaps because she'd already had oral sex experience, Yan, though disagreeing, wasn't adamant. "I want it, please," I said, and then, without thinking twice, I concentrated and began to move vigorously until a jolt of electricity shot through my brain. I pulled out and moved my body to her face. Yan obediently opened her mouth and took my penis in. I shouted, and hot liquid entered her mouth in waves. Yan didn't show any discomfort; she kept her eyes closed, holding it until it slowly softened before going to the bathroom. "Don't think I'm bad," I said to Yan, holding her. "No, you're not bad, you're a good man," Yan smiled, showing no reproach for my actions. From her eyes, I suddenly understood: Yan was a true beauty, a woman of exceptional quality, but this was only just beginning. I regretted not meeting her first. "Yan, am I really your second man?" I asked her. "Yes, my God, don't think I'm a promiscuous woman," Yan suddenly said, sounding somewhat displeased. My mind was filled with conflicting emotions. Women in the early 1970s were still a very pure generation. Would these excellent qualities still exist in China in the future? Out of male selfishness, I always hoped I would be Yan's second and last man. But a lover, oh a lover, a lover can't fill the entirety of a young, lonely woman's life, so I believed I wouldn't be her last. Although I was mentally prepared, knowing Yan would have a new boyfriend, I truly never imagined that a year later, the man appearing beside Yan would be him, someone I had never considered. (Part 2) When a woman first enters the world of prostitution, after her first transaction with a man, the second and third times become easy. Although she can retain a sense of purity within herself, she may feel inferior and contempt for her body. When a woman becomes someone's lover for the first time, will she become someone's lover again? The answer, I think, should be yes. From the end of 1996 to 1997, Yan was very happy with me. Two or three times a month, we would go to a hotel in the afternoon to experience the joy of passion. At work, we were very close, often having lunch and chatting together, but always maintaining a proper distance, only showing our friendly relationship. The world is going downhill; in a large company, from the vice president and office director to the boss and secretary, all sorts of scandals are constantly emerging. But I rarely heard any rumors about Xiaoyan and me. After all, we were just ordinary people, not worth paying attention to. Besides, we were young and well-matched, unlike those stories of wealthy and powerful people with a significant age gap, which were more captivating. Of course, the most important thing was that I was always very careful and discreet, never going to public places with Xiaoyan in private, so there was no evidence to provoke us. It was no longer news that Yan and her boyfriend had broken up. I think her past as a military wife must have scared not only me, but many other men as well. Gradually, some young men expressed their admiration for her, and whenever Yan was with me, she would jokingly tell me some of these stories. I didn't care much about these things. I knew she should choose a better man. At the time, I thought that if she found someone she loved, I would sincerely wish her well, but I overlooked the impact I had on her life—that she became the mistress of a married man. In May, the public relations department urgently called me, asking me to go to Shanghai for a product exhibition. Because it was a last-minute notice, I didn't know Yan was going, so I declined. As a result, Yan met him, Manager Lin, the company's head in Shanghai. At the time, Manager Lin was married with children, around thirty-seven or thirty-eight years old, ten years older than me, and at the same level. In terms of appearance, he could be described as somewhat unattractive. But as a salesman, he was incredibly eloquent and shameless, daring to speak his mind and act boldly. Rumor had it that he had amassed nearly a million in assets through stock trading in his early years. He was known in the company for his womanizing ways, but there were never any real scandals because everyone knew he wasn't good-looking and assumed he was just joking with the young women. After Yan returned from Shanghai, she mentioned Lin to me, saying he had been showering her with attention. I laughed it off, not taking it seriously. After all, many people liked Yan; who would care about such an older man? A month later, Yan was transferred from the office to a sales support role. Sales support was a lucrative position—easy work, but the salary was much higher than in the office, and many girls wanted to transfer but couldn't. Yan told me it was thanks to Lin. Then, suddenly, news spread throughout the company that Lin was pursuing Yan relentlessly. This was big news back then because everyone thought it was an impossible task, so everyone was curious about it. I was, of course, among those who held this view. I always restrained my feelings for Yan. I didn't want to say I loved her, nor did I want her to fall in love with me; this was my selfishness. Therefore, although we were close in front of outsiders, we maintained a certain distance. Sexually, we dated about two or three times a month on average. Gradually, Yan would always bring up the bitterness of her relationship and the loneliness of her life after we made love. I felt helpless, but there was nothing I could do to change it. I was prepared to accept the fact that she was going to find a new boyfriend, but I still didn't believe she would be with Lin, even though rumors about them were growing stronger. A man's passion is truly terrifying. Those young men who secretly pursued Yan all vanished without a trace in the face of Manager Lin's relentless pursuit of her. This was probably also a source of helplessness for Yan. Manager Lin suddenly showed me unprecedented closeness, which I hadn't expected. He diligently promoted the products from my department and even treated me to dinner. One advantage of working in sales is that we can often buy gifts for clients, and without exception, I always get a share. Although I refused many times, after finally accepting it once, I got used to it. If I were a woman, I think this would be the beginning of my downfall. I didn't say anything good about him; instead, I often reminded Yan. But I didn't want to get involved in this mess and turn this into a love triangle scandal. And that might be why Manager Lin was so close to me; he achieved his goal. I just quietly observed how things unfolded, letting a girl already tormented by her boyfriend and lover face life's choices independently. Am I a sinner? I don't know. Autumn arrived, and it had been over two years since my first kiss with Lin. I hadn't seen Yan for a month. Suddenly, I heard that Manager Lin's wife had come to the company and was making a scene. Only then did I realize that it had really happened. I arranged to meet Yan at a hotel. Yan's first words to me were, "I'm sorry." "You really did it?""Your lover?" I asked her, a little angry, my face cold. "Are you unhappy?" "Yan asked me cautiously. Haha, how could I be happy? I knew this day would come. But now that it's here, I still can't bear it. What I can't bear even more is that I thought she would choose a good man to marry, but I didn't expect that she would become another man's mistress again. I know that it's over between us. Yan cried, she cried while hugging me. A woman's tears are a weapon. I could only hold her gently. She told me about Lin pursuing her, how he cried, waited for her at her door until dawn, threatened to commit suicide, how he bought her things, and she also said that she knew Lin was very good to me too. At that moment, I thought, I'm such a bastard. But regret is useless now, it's already a fact. I didn't ask if Yan and Lin had sex, because those things no longer mattered. Holding her body, I didn't feel dirty, but rather a little heartbroken. Yan told me that Lin wanted to divorce his wife to marry her, so his wife refused and came to his workplace to make a scene. She knew that it was impossible for her to be with me, so if he divorced his wife, she would marry him." That was the only time I booked a room with Yan but didn't have sex. Deep down, I still respected Lin. After all, he had guts and courage. Since he loved Yan so much, and Yan was truly moved by him, I didn't want to be the third party between them. I hugged Yan one last time, and we left the hotel. Have you heard the story of the toad eating swan meat? Actually, it's true. Because the toad had courage and passion. Women are easily moved, and a moved woman can do anything. After the storm passed, people in the company lost interest in the matter. I heard that Manager Lin's wife refused to divorce him. Yan's parents got a new house; Lin took care of all the decoration and furniture. Later, I heard that Lin bought a house, although it was just a small one, it still cost a lot of money. Therefore, Yan's parents were also bribed. Yan and I truly became friends, our physical relationship ended. But I still treated her the same as before, giving her small gifts on holidays and birthdays, which she always appreciated. I knew money couldn't buy affection. I worried that Manager Lin's extravagant spending would eventually become unbearable for him. I genuinely hoped Lin and Yan could get married. But having experienced passionate relationships before, I knew that if Lin's marriage dragged on, Yan might be hurt again once his passion for her faded. Therefore, with the women I loved, I always expressed my feelings subtly, because that's how things last. From 1998 to 1999, for two years, Yan wasn't with me. I was still searching for my own life, for a new emotional world, until I heard that Yan and Lin had broken up. Yan was sick. I went to see her; she was very haggard, which broke my heart. But I knew it was inevitable. I comforted her, and I spoke well of Lin. It was true; I genuinely spoke well of Lin. I told her that a man's passion is unreliable; only tenderness lasts. I told her that Lin spent so much money on her, which meant he truly loved her, because he probably understood that only money and passion were his virtues. Although she didn't care how much money he had, it was a source of pain for him, because she hadn't fallen in love with him at first sight. So when he realized he needed to spend more and more money, and his passion was fading due to his wife's torment, he finally left her and went home. Yan slowly recovered and went back to work; everyone treated her well. The boss changed her department. On the afternoon of December 31, 1999, the last day of the 20th century, Yan and I reunited after two years apart. Two more years had passed; Yan was now a twenty-eight-year-old woman, mature like a blooming rose. Her skin was smooth as jade, and her body was fuller than before. And in those two years, I too had matured more emotionally and sexually. After showering, I led Yan to the spacious single bed. Two years ago, before we parted, she had already learned many lovemaking techniques under my tutelage. Now, I didn't care who she slept with or what she did; I just wanted to relive the joy of being with her. Yan was very obedient in front of me. I was gentle with her. I kissed her deeply, wanting her to be happy first. I kissed her breasts, gently biting her nipples. She pulled her fingers through my hair, ruffling it. Two years had passed, and Yan's nipples had become a deeper reddish-brown. I sighed softly in my heart: Ah, Yan, we've both grown old. Were you happy during your youth? My tongue traced a path down her abdomen. Although she hadn't given birth, it wasn't as flat as before, with some excess flesh. When my tongue touched her clitoris, Yan's body trembled slightly, and I immediately heard her moan. I paused, glancing up at her. Yan was looking at me too, her eyes full of tenderness. I smiled and buried my face in hers. The familiar scent of her legs wafted towards me once more. A faint musky fragrance intoxicated my senses. From light to heavy, I used my saliva mixed with her love juices to moisten her vulva again and again, feeling her clitoris harden and erect, like a peanut, which aroused my love and tenderness even more. Sucking on her clitoris, I gently inserted my fingers into her vagina. The folds of flesh gripped my fingers, and overflowing vaginal fluids flowed down my fingers. I withdrew my fingers, moistening her clitoris with her fluids and gently stroking it. My tongue slipped into her labia, teasing the vaginal opening, and combined with the caresses of her clitoris, Yan's body began to contort, trying to clamp my head together again. But this time, I refused. I made Yan lift her legs and press them against my chest, and Yan did as I said. Her buttocks were half-raised, her vulva fully stretched, and her anus bloomed before me. Two years had passed, and it seemed only the color of this flower remained unchanged, still a vibrant pink. After kissing her labia and vagina again, I gently traced my tongue between her legs, moving it to her anus. I had given it a thorough wash during the bath, and it now exuded a delicate fragrance. I gently pressed my tongue against it, covering the edge with my mouth. Yan's anus contracted instantly, she let out a loud moan, and her muscles tensed. I was pleased with her sensitivity; her pleasure filled me with joy. I circled my tongue around her anus, like licking ice cream, sliding it back and forth, occasionally sucking and pressing with the tip to stimulate her nerves. Yan was happy, and so was I. Yan was no longer a little girl; I wanted her to serve me like a woman. Yan knelt between my legs, taking my penis into her mouth. I gently stroked her hair, watching her swallow and release it. My penis slowly swelled in her mouth as she diligently sucked and held it, while I enjoyed the visual pleasure. Actually, although I enjoy women giving me oral sex, I still feel pain for them, always worried about their discomfort. I asked Yan to lick my anus, and she complied. Following her movements, I raised my legs, and Yan's face disappeared behind me. Her soft tongue pressed against my anus, a jolt of electricity shooting through my brain, a tingling sensation immediately spreading throughout my body. Yan carefully licked my rear, and I sometimes contracted, sometimes relaxed, savoring the pleasure she gave me. When excited, I pressed her head down, holding her tightly against my buttocks, feeling her warm breath gently caressing my sensitive areas. Because it was the last time of the century, and the first time we'd been together in two years, we were both very emotional. After entering her body, I moved with abandon. I ran my fingers around her buttocks from behind, where they were covered in her love juice. I dabbed some of the juice on my fingers and gently stroked her anus. I inserted a finger into her anus. It was tight there; pushing aside the outer muscles, the inside was even tighter and a little dry. I thoroughly lubricated her anus with the fluid, and with a forceful thrust, I inserted my finger. My penis was inside her body, and through the thin walls of flesh, I could feel my finger inside her anus, which aroused me greatly, and also aroused Yan's body. Yan breathed heavily, her vagina contracting in waves, her thighs gripping my body even tighter; I knew her orgasm was coming. I suppressed my excitement and thrust into her vigorously, joyfully experiencing her orgasm. Yan sat up, half-embracing me, sucking on my nipples, gripping my body. The slapping of our bodies, accompanied by the squelching of her juices, made her body pink, her eyes filled with a dazed, intoxicated light. I knew she had truly matured. I never ejaculated inside her, except on her most private days. At my climax, I stood up. Yan knelt before me, grasping my penis, looking at me as she sucked hard on it. Many times I had her lie down to give me oral sex, but this time, I wanted to stand. I'm not a chauvinist, but sex involves more than just physical pleasure; it also involves mental and visual enjoyment. I absolutely respect Yan, but I also need to experience the taste of a man. I filled Yan's mouth with my semen, standing and holding her head tightly, pressing her between my legs. I ejaculated freely in her mouth, savoring the soft tongue licking my gradually softening penis. When I pulled my penis out of her mouth, Yan spat out some semen, using my penis to slowly...Slowly, I parted my lips, smiling at me. It was an absolutely lewd scene. Her eyes were on me, and I stood, looking down at her kneeling before me, her slender fingers holding my black penis, smearing thick semen onto her snow-white face. It felt really good. Thinking back on it afterwards, however, I felt a little sad. I won't go into the reasons. We never repeated this action until she got married last year. And because it was the last time we made love in the twentieth century, it was deeply etched in my mind. After resting for a while, we did the same foreplay, only changing some positions. We each took turns on all fours, our buttocks raised, serving each other, from oral sex to anal licking, and even... This reminded me of anal sex with Yan. Two years ago, I didn't know about anal sex, but two years later, I was a different person. I didn't expect Lin to still have a virginity reserved for me. Although Yan insisted on refusing, she couldn't resist my persistence and finally agreed. I took some shower gel as a lubricant. Of course, shower gel is irritating; it will hurt a lot if your skin is broken. So I advise you guys not to use this stuff in the future; buy reputable products instead. Of course, I only found this out afterward because Yan was bleeding and in pain; at the time, it was the only option. Yan lay on her side on the bed, and I lay behind her. After sufficient lubrication, I first inserted my fingers into her anus to help her adjust, then slowly pushed my penis into her anus, telling her to relax her rear end. I knew the insertion had to be slow, but for a woman doing this for the first time, even if you go slowly, there will be discomfort or pain, especially at the moment the glans enters her anus; you have to be very careful. The moment I entered, Yan said it hurt and asked me to pull out. I gently comforted her while remaining still, letting my penis slowly soften to lessen her pain. After a while, Yan said it was okay, so I slowly went in again. After Yan got used to it, she said to me, "Try moving." I slowly began to move, fully inserting my penis into her anus. The feeling of being tightly gripped by her anal muscles brought immense pleasure, and even more so, stimulation. The tip of my penis felt empty, but the gripping area, though tight, instantly aroused me, and my penis began to grow larger, filling her anus. Yan couldn't take it anymore and told me to hurry up. I didn't want to torment her anymore; I felt terrible for her, so I focused my energy, gently but firmly thrusting in and out. Her anus adapted, and with each in-and-out movement, the muscles of her anus flipped in and out—the stimulation was unimaginable for most people. I ejaculated quickly. Afterwards, Yan bled and said it hurt; I just smiled. Later, when we did this again, she gradually got used to it. Once I asked her, "Is anal sex pleasurable?" She said, "Sometimes, it's comfortable, very stimulating." Believe me, brothers, I'm telling you, anal sex can be pleasurable, as long as you do it with affection and consideration; women will experience both pain and pleasure. Actually, the hardest part is probably psychologically accepting it. This sexual encounter at the end of the century left many deep impressions and lingering memories, so there's no need to repeat what happened afterward. I didn't originally intend to write this, but considering I might stop writing in the future, and some brothers enjoy erotic content, I'll write it down to satisfy the posting requirements of the "Sea of Love" forum. In December 2002, Yan left and married in France. Before her marriage, her parents introduced her to several men, but none of them worked out. Her marriage overseas greatly surprised me. I don't know if there was love in this marriage for Yan, but I sincerely wish her happiness. From the spring of 2002 to the spring of 2003, I experienced a painful emotional ordeal; the woman in question wasn't Yan. I violated my principles as a lover and told that woman I loved her, and from then on, things spiraled out of control. Alas, love is truly too heavy. This year, Yan came back and gave me her phone number, but I still didn't go to see her. Joy and sorrow are predestined, coming and going are predestined, the heart remains unchanged. During the time when the swallows returned, I was deeply studying Buddhist scriptures, taking a very detached view of worldly emotions. Since then, I've heard nothing more from her. I want to thank the woman beside me now, who helped me gradually escape the shadow of last year's painful experience, and I also thank my wife for her love and tolerance over the years. I know writing this will invite criticism, but life is unpredictable, and who can truly understand matters of the heart?

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