There was a knock on the door after we finished having sex at her house.

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

I spent almost a year at that computer company, using after-sales service as an excuse to go there four or five times a month. After-sales service for branded computers, you know, they're supposed to be responsible to customers, haha. Plus, the after-sales service management wasn't great back then; the company advertised that they'd provide on-site service for both hardware and software issues, which was a real bargain for me. I managed to balance work and my affair. During that time, her son also became quite familiar with me, often asking me for advice.

The first time I met her son, he called me "uncle." My first thought was, "Am I that old?" Later, after his mother corrected me, I changed to calling him "brother." Since it was the first time someone called me "uncle," I still often joke about it when we meet. The second year we knew each other, in July, her son graduated from elementary school and was home for summer vacation. I often went over. But it was always her son who called, asking me to come over for advice. Although I couldn't have sex with her, who would pass up a chance to slack off during work hours? Watching her walk around the house in her pajamas, unable to have sex with her, was a bit frustrating. Seeing her son engrossed in playing games next to her, I decided to bear with it. I hadn't even settled into my seat at work when the head of the technical department told me that xxx had called again, saying there was a problem with their phone and asking me to come over. He then added, "What kind of customer is so troublesome? If every customer were like them, we'd be exhausted." I chuckled inwardly, because everyone knows about last year's internet outages, where several people were complained about and it took three or four days to resolve. I called back, guessing it was probably her son installing too many pirated games, causing the computer to crash. Once, I only had 10MB of space left on my C drive—no wonder it crashed! She answered the phone, asked a few casual questions, and we arranged to meet in the afternoon. When I arrived at her house, my clothes were soaked with sweat. The bus was packed, and it was unbearably hot.

Air-conditioned buses weren't common back then. When I entered her house, she was wearing a loose t-shirt, her hair wet and tied up. The two points above were faintly visible, indicating she had just finished showering. After putting down her bag and noticing her son wasn't there, she asked, "Where's Xiaojun?" She said he went to his grandmother's house and wouldn't be back. I immediately rushed over and hugged her, my erection pressing firmly against her. She pushed me away, saying, "You're all sweaty, let's go to the room and cool off with the air conditioning." We went into the bedroom, turned on the computer, and casually unplugged the phone from the wall socket, plugged it into the computer, and went online to see what was fun. She came over and sat next to me. My hands were already inside, one hand already fondling her breasts. She hadn't worn a bra after showering, and her body had a faint fragrance. Her nipples were large, almost like ripe grapes when erect, but her breasts were very firm, unlike some sagging breasts found in older women. She was wearing black lace panties. She asked if I had eaten, and said she was incredibly frustrated today. Yesterday, her family had seen a fabric bra at the decoration market and paid for it, promising delivery this morning, but after waiting for ages, no one had arrived.

She called and yelled at the boss, who said he'd definitely deliver it today. "I'll call you when it's here," I casually mentioned, adding that it's so hot and the delivery guy has it tough. The sweat had dried, and she sat on my lap, straddling it, feeding me something I couldn't identify—hawthorn berries. But I had no appetite then; my penis was already erect, pressing against her thigh. I put down the mouse and started caressing her breasts, one hand already reaching for her genitals. She pushed me away, saying it was filthy and I should take a shower. In no time, I'd stripped off all my clothes, my penis fully erect. She gently patted my erection and said, "Go take a shower." After quickly showering and drying myself, I returned to the bedroom. She was already off her t-shirt, lying on the bed watching TV. I eagerly got into bed, and she pulled my hand over to use as a pillow, saying, "Let's watch some TV." I had no interest in watching TV. My right hand was her pillow, but my left hand wasn't idle; I was playing with her breasts, while my mouth was already nibbling on another nipple.

I gently nibbled at her nipple, while my other hand brazenly squeezed and kneaded her breast, my penis rubbing against her waist. Soon, my mouth moved downwards, kissing every part of her body. My hands had already left her, and she picked up the remote, turning down the TV volume. My mouth was gently kissing her lace panties, feeling the heat emanating from them. She lifted her buttocks slightly, and I gently pulled down her panties. Her vulva was plump, resembling a cunt, white and tender, her labia majora slightly dark, already glistening with vaginal fluid. I gently touched her labia majora with the tip of my tongue. Her vulva had no odor. Plus, she had just showered, giving off a fresh fragrance, and it was dripping wet. It was intoxicating to look at.

My hands gently rubbed her clitoris, while my mouth alternately played with her labia majora. Occasionally, I would slip my tongue into her vagina. My mouth was full of her vaginal fluid, and her legs involuntarily parted. Her hands gripped the bed lightly. Over the years, I hadn't tried 69, doggy style, anal sex, or anything like that with her; we'd basically stuck to the most basic sexual positions. She seemed like a traditional woman in this regard. Soon, she pulled my hair with both hands, her body already experiencing a mild orgasm. She didn't get up, and I knew it was time to go in. I pressed myself against her, kissing her, our saliva mingling with her vaginal fluid, our tongues teasing each other. She grasped my penis with one hand and guided it down. It was so slippery, it practically slid in. She spread her legs, and I slowly began to thrust. It was very hot inside.

"Oh...ah...today, I'm going to fuck you as hard as I want...ooh...ah...you're going in so deep...ah...oh...oh...oh..."

Because she wasn't wearing a condom, she was squeezing me very tightly, and my glans felt a little hot. When I thrust in nine shallow times and then one deep, my penis slipped out. I didn't immediately put it back in, wanting to cool it down first, and rubbed it haphazardly against her labia majora. But she couldn't resist any longer, grasped my penis, and immediately aimed it at the entrance and pushed it in. She said, "Stop playing around, go in quickly." I increased the speed of my thrusting. After a while, she shouted, "Hurry up, I'm coming!" and hugged my waist, as if she wouldn't allow my penis to come out and rest any longer. After a frantic thrusting for more than ten seconds, I was still desperately thrusting while ejaculating. At this point, I could feel her vagina constantly contracting and relaxing. After ejaculating, my penis was still inside her vagina, feeling the kneading of the muscles inside her vagina. At this moment, she opened her eyes, hugged me with both hands, and gave me a deep kiss. Everything was understood without words. After cleaning up the mess, she got up and threw the toilet paper she had used to wipe away the semen into the trash can outside. We lay back down on the bed to watch TV. A few minutes later, I thought I heard the doorbell ring, and my heart skipped a beat… Because the bedroom door was closed, I couldn't hear clearly. In a trembling voice, I asked her, "Is someone ringing your doorbell?" She listened carefully for a moment and said, "I think so." She put on her t-shirt and went out. She closed the door behind her and told me not to panic and to continue sleeping in bed. She said it might be someone delivering the drugs.

My heart sank. A thousand thoughts raced through my mind: what if her husband came home? How would I face him? What would happen? What if her son came home and saw this? At that moment, I was practically praying to God for help. With all my might, I grabbed the clothes lying on the floor beside me. I felt uneasy, yet resigned to my fate. A little while later, I heard her say outside, "Okay, just put the things here." Only then did my heart slowly calm down. My heart rate slowly decreased from over 140… A moment later, she came in and saw that I was already dressed and sitting at the computer. She smiled at me, a smile whose meaning I couldn't quite decipher… She came in to get money to pay the deliveryman. A little while later, I heard a man's voice say, "Could I make a phone call? When the delivery came, the boss couldn't get through to you. I want to call back and tell him the delivery was delivered, but I delivered it to another customer." Only then did I realize the phone line was still connected to the computer.

After a while, Yun finally agreed and led him into the room. I immediately unplugged the phone line from the computer and plugged it into the wall outlet. The deliveryman looked at me, then at her. He picked up the phone and spoke for a while. As he left, he turned back and smiled at me… At that moment, I didn't care whether his smile was mocking or envious. I only knew that God and Buddha were truly protecting me. (Not long after, when we talked about it, she still jokingly called me a cowardly little thing who liked to sneak food but was terribly afraid. She said she knew at the time that someone had brought her **, so she wasn't flustered. Haha, I think anyone in that situation would have felt the same way I did.

How was I supposed to know where her husband was on his business trip, how long he would be gone, how close her son's maternal grandmother's house was, when he would be back...) This was the most heart-pounding, embarrassing, and sexually pleasurable time I'd ever had with her in all the years I'd known her.

Years have passed, but thinking about it still gets me excited... What if it had been her husband who appeared back then? Truly, youth is the age of carefree ignorance, and only when faced with reality do we feel the weight of sorrow.

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