Battle of the Black Pearl

page views:1 Publication date:2022-09-29

Back then, I had several QQ accounts running on my computer. None of them had men; they were all women.
In my "My Friends" group, there were a few I'd chatted with, but it wasn't certain. I created my own "Friends" group,
which contained a few women I might even be able to sleep with. Most of the others were in my "Strangers" group,
which I deleted. Some of those I deleted weren't interested in casual conversation; some were willing to chat but not necessarily
sleep with, always wanting your online company to soothe their lonely hearts and empty bodies; and some were simply unattractive
.
QQ was a beach for the poor and lower middle class to kill time and pick up girls at low cost. If you walked this beach every day, there would always
be a woman you liked lying there. Then you'd ignite your passion and use whatever words you wanted to
seduce her. And then, you'd inevitably reap some rewards. Especially in the early years, it was relatively easy to succeed. Now it's probably much harder; everyone's on QQ, the market is chaotic, and there are too many men and not enough women. My understanding of women also largely came from my interactions with countless women
on QQ .
Sometimes I'm a good listener, able to guide her to open up about
her most private stories.
Once, a woman told me she often recalled
an incident ten years ago when she was almost raped on her way home from a bar. When she recounted it, she said she couldn't describe her feelings, but felt a sense of excitement.When they didn't cover her mouth, she didn't even scream. Later, when the handsome guy asked her to touch his penis,
she actually agreed. The more I learned, the more scared I became!
There was once a woman who was groped by a boy who looked like a student on a bus. But this lovely
woman was truly a stunner. Listening to her story, I really wanted to rape her to death right then and there. While being groped, she had all sorts of fantasies
: "Uh, so big; uh, how can this little boy be like this, so bold, with such a strong sex drive; uh, is it because
I'm wearing such a sexy skirt, I guess I'm still very attractive; uh, maybe he's still a virgin, if I
go with him, I can teach him how to do this and that, I'll become his first woman, and then, I'll teach him how to be
a man..." As she thought about it, her juices started flowing. Her panties were soaked. The funny thing is, she actually found
a seat and sat down. The result was predictable, a wet stain appeared on her professional short skirt. Fortunately, women's clothing
is always so versatile; she moved the back to the side. So exquisite.
Hehe, I won't say more, or I'll never get back to the point. Women, actually, are very susceptible to temptation
. Many women have told me this.
I actually met her on QQ. I searched for friends, a quick search everywhere. Then I got straight to
the point , randomly picked a picture of a penis online and sent it to her, saying, "Mine." Then I got a scolding.
But even after the scolding, we continued chatting. She even asked, "Is it really yours?" Of course, I said yes.
She was older than me, around 29. Back then, webcams weren't common, so I didn't know what she looked like. Unfortunately
, I lived in Chebei, and she lived in Dongpu. Knowing this crucial point, I was
incredibly happy. Perfect timing—she was unemployed, and my job had a lot of freedom, but I was also in a period of low motivation.
Bored, we started flirting and chatting away. It really was playful banter. My woman
is very outgoing, straightforward, and quite fiery. I often get scolded by her, but I try to
deflect her with suggestive remarks. I deliberately provoke her, saying she's definitely flat-chested or something, like a bamboo pole. Hey, at this point, the door to passion between
us starts to loosen. When she defiantly says she's so hot she'll make my
nose bleed, my intuition tells me it's true. I start asking her for photos, but she won't. So she's lying to me
.
Even if you're free, you still have things to do, you still need to eat, right? Later that night, very late, we started chatting again
. She sent me a picture of her breasts taken with her phone. Big, full. Hemispherical. Her breasts aren't the kind that
sag down to the waist, nor are they the kind of sudden, bulging breasts that everyone sees everywhere.
It was the kind of breast that sloped down from the top of the chest, extending to the nipples, and then,
the edge of the bra squeezed, uh, blocked… a section of flesh bulged out. It was that big. A yellow gauze lace bra,
stretched taut by the flesh, full and firm. And that wasn't enough; another section spilled out from the top. Through the bra,
two dark points were vaguely visible. I stared at those two dark points, wanting to see them clearly, wanting to know more clearly what
the nipples like.
I said: "I can't take it, so beautiful, I want it so badly."
She: "Heh, really? See if you dare seduce me now." (I can imagine her feigned anger.)
These breasts accompanied me through a night of fantasies, and I masturbated…
If I had known I would see her the next day, I really shouldn't have masturbated last night. What a waste, I should have saved my passion
for this moment . Luckily, I was young then, the age when I could get hard easily. When I saw her online, she
wasn't in her rented room, but in an internet cafe. She said her computer was slow. After finding out which internet cafe it was at, I walked there.
It was so close, only a ten-minute walk.
She was wearing a black dress. I could see some cleavage, but it wasn't a low-cut V-neck; it was a round
neckline, and because of her large breasts, the neckline clung to her chest. She was wearing high heels, and as she approached, her breasts
trembled , the flesh jiggle slightly, not exposed, but rather, the presence and power of her breasts were even more apparent.
The soft fabric clung perfectly to her body. Below, her stomach was flat. The hem of the dress only covered
her thighs. As she walked ahead, the dress bulged from her large buttocks, creating a gap in the middle that
reminded me of going braless—perhaps a thong, I thought. The woman wasn't exactly thin; she
looked a bit plump. Who says thinness is beauty? I think she looked great. She exuded femininity,
with . Her calves and buttocks were firm and
fleshy, especially her breasts… I really loved them. Her skin was a bit dark; I often called her a "black
pearl" because her entire body wasn't fair. Her short hair and healthy dark skin gave her a touch of wildness, while her well-fitting,
high- quality clothes accentuated her full figure, giving her a sophisticated, elegant air. A typical mature woman.
When we were dawdling in the internet cafe, she wasn't really doing anything, just chatting on QQ. I sat next to her,
too lazy to even touch the computer, just leaving it on. My face flushed, and I placed my hand on her thigh. She didn't say
anything , but when I put my hand between her legs, near the groin, she pushed it away,
saying quite loudly, "What are you doing?" Then she casually continued chatting about her long list of online friends on QQ, mostly men
with constantly changing profile pictures. I couldn't help it; I had too many rivals. She casually chuckled as she chatted with
me, telling me how funny that male online friend was. I sat next to her, feeling very awkward,
speaking in hushed tones. Gradually, I didn't know where to begin. This wasn't online; online
I could say anything. But this was an internet cafe, with people all around us. I tried putting my hand between her legs again, but
she slapped it away. I've always been a bit of a coward, and in broad daylight, I really wouldn't dare.
Sometimes think I'm a dark soul, liking to hide in secluded, dark corners, doing bad things
with a lot of guts. But once exposed to the light, I'm doomed.
I said, "Let's go get something to drink."
She said, "I don't think I've eaten yet, humph, you didn't even invite me to eat."
I said, "Let's go then."
I walked with her, close to her. Even the slightest touch of our arms felt strange. Occasionally, my hand would brush
against her butt, or I'd lightly put my arm around her waist while crossing the street; it all felt wonderful. Touching a woman's
body , gently touching her, especially a voluptuous woman, and feeling that this woman has some connection with you...
It's a subtle feeling; even the slightest touch will trigger a strong sensation. A stimulating, alluring feeling,
a longing, a yearning, a desire to directly touch her and feel the softness of her body.
We ate at a tea restaurant, then went to buy fruit. We bought quite a lot, including watermelon. Guangdong is hot, and
fruit is essential. I said, "Let me carry it; it's not far." She said, "It's just past this market."
Actually, from the moment I met her, I was filled with anxiety, a constant fear of loss. I was afraid that if I showed her too much affection, she
would be disgusted; but if I didn't, I was afraid of leaving with regret. I remembered a friend telling me a truth: "If
a woman is willing to take you to her home, then it's basically a done deal." But whether it was true or not, I was still
anxious. Anyway, I tormented myself with this anxiety until I followed her, watching her walk upstairs with her bottom sticking out, then
opening the door, taking off her shoes, letting me in, and then closing the door. Only then did my anxiety subside.
Closed door , just the two of us... This is my world, my own darkness.
I sighed and said, "It's so hot." My voice wasn't as soft as it had been outside; this was
normal . My tone and intonation now had that karaoke-singing feel to it. Actually, this woman is very generous,
generous and poised. She wasn't pretending; she was always so natural. Did she have to act like she was willing to take me
home and sleep with me outside? Did she have to let me tease her in the internet cafe to show she was willing to be ambiguous with me? On the way to get the fruit,
although she said she would go up herself, she didn't hesitate when I said I would go up and check. I was too petty
! Such a warm and generous woman, I should have boldly and naturally nestled into her arms, and then
things would fall into place.
She went to turn on her computer and sat on the stool. I went over and put my hands on her shoulders from behind. Thinking about
what was about to happen, I was already hard. I pressed against her, smoothed her hair, and then cupped and stroked her face.
She leaned against me. I bent down and hugged her, holding her arms as well. My face was pressed against hers, my head looking
down at her full breasts, my hands pressing against a mound of firm flesh that gushed out
even more with each press. I shook her body, not saying a word for a while.
She said, "Hmm, what are you doing?" Her voice was a little unnatural, but her tone was gentle.
I said, "Let me see." Then I reached my hands inside her collar. My hands touched her soft, delicate skin. I
cupped one breast in each hand; they were so big and so hot. I couldn't help but grab them tightly, pulling aside her bra to look
at them, then reluctantly holding them back. I hugged her tightly. She tilted her head back against me. I
gently rubbed her nipples with my palms.
She gripped my wrist: "What do you want to do?
" I whispered in her ear, "What do you think?"
"Do you want me?"
"Yes."
"Well, if you're going to do it, do it properly. You're all sweaty, it's uncomfortable touching you like this."
"Oh, okay, let's go shower together."
Watching my black pearl take off her skirt, her breasts, even without clothes covering them, were still so big. Her underwear was
beautiful, the thin kind, with lace trim. Unlike some, which are padded with a thick layer of foam. Her breast shape was also
beautiful. Semi-circular, with large, firm nipples. At this moment, I saw
the two , small, delicate, and cute, standing upright in the areola. Watching her wiggle her hips, her cute two
big white rabbits swaying as she walked towards the bathroom, I quickly took off my clothes, my hard erection following her in. She
took off her panties, hehe, thick pubic hair. I felt she was really more natural than me, she was always so calm.
Water flowed over her body, I hugged her, kissing her breasts while caressing her body and kneading
her buttocks. My penis was pressed against her body, against her lower body. When I touched her genitals, there was a lot of
sticky fluid. I excitedly said, "So much water!" She smiled, and my penis
slid between her legs. She stood there like that, one hand holding the showerhead, the other supporting me, her eyes half-closed. I
penetrated her .
She let out a soft "Mmm," snapping out of her daze.
"No, let's go to the bed
," I said, "I'll just do it for a little while, let me feel it first, it feels so good." Then I quickly
thrust in for a while and came out.
We haphazardly applied some shower gel to each other. When I was washing her breasts, the slippery feel,
the bouncy sensation as I grasped her nipples, was very stimulating. I rubbed her genitals, the vaginal fluid
kept flowing, and no matter how I washed, it was always slippery.
She was also stroking my penis, her hand gripping it, laughing and scolding, "You little pervert. You're
quite thin, not bad at all."
She seemed to be a bit of a germaphobe; the floor was spotless. She was already on the bed, and just as I was about to
pounce, she quickly stopped me, insisting I dry off completely before letting me get on.
Frustrated , I couldn't wait any longer. I looked at the alluring woman on the bed; she would soon be mine. I dried
myself off, and she took out a condom. I said, "No rush." She said, "Then put it on later." Then, I straddled
her and began the prelude: I held one of her breasts in one hand and sucked hard on her other, but I
couldn't get it in; I wanted to take it all in. I kissed every part of her body, lingering on her
vulva and licking it.
"Wow, that feels so good."
"Oh, oh."
Her labia were thick. The butterfly wings were engorged and turned outwards. The inside of her vagina was red. Her clitoris was also very
developed , about the size of a soybean, and I peeled it until it was round and shiny, clearly visible. I felt her fluid
was too sticky, it even got on my mouth. So I turned around and went into 69. I started sucking on her clitoris, rubbing her vulva with my palm
while sucking, occasionally inserting my fingers to poke around. At first, she only used her hands to stroke my
penis, but I told her to use her mouth, and then she started kissing my penis too. Unfortunately, we weren't tall enough, so she had to bend down to
kiss me, which made my penis feel a little uncomfortable. But women with long tongues know how to kiss, and
when her mouth was close to my glans and her tongue was licking, it was wonderful. After a while, her body started to writhe intensely, and she spat out my penis.
While writhing, she cried out, "Oh wow, so good, oh wow, so good!" It excited me. When she
cried out "So good, so good!" urgently, so loudly that I was afraid the neighbors would hear, I saw a gush of fluid from her vagina.
It gushed out. She climaxed.
Actually, for men, kissing a woman's genitals isn't about the taste. It's a psychological factor. To be honest,
my "black pearl's" genitals smell a bit musky. The first time, driven by passion, I kissed her to please her
. After that, in our year-long sexual relationship, I didn't kiss her often. Without enough
passion, you can't kiss. I still remember when I was kissing her genitals, she pressed my head down, squeezing it
tightly, as if she wanted to swallow me whole. I looked at her gushing vagina, listening to her
joyful moans and intense calls. I felt her intense need for me, and I felt a sense of conquest.
I wanted to drive her to the point of unbearable craving, to make her need me even more, to call for my entry even louder and more intensely.
Her labia were open, her body twisting, coiling around me like a snake. My tongue licked inside her, deeply
stirring her opening, sucking heavily on her clitoris. She cried out in pleasure again, "Oh, oh, it's coming again."
She put a condom on me, and I began to move on top of her. I looked at her swaying breasts, her rosy
face, and her hot, watery eyes. I thrust in hard. Her moans were always loud, "Oh wow,
so good." Her hands left deep finger marks on my arms. My black pearl was indeed no
ordinary mature woman. When I got tired, she rocked on top of me. She rocked on top of me, and I laughed at her, calling her "wild" and "amazing."
Watching her two big breasts bounce up and down in front of me, I really wanted to bite her. A strong woman,
a woman with strength in her waist, is the best. Her stamina will never be worse than yours; I've never heard her say she's tired.
Amazing! She climaxes, rests for a while, and then can move again. The climaxes seem to have no end. After having sex with her
, I finally understood how women are gang-raped to death. With this constant stimulation, this constant secretion,
one climax after another. How could she not die? Of course she would. We took turns putting in the effort, trying to please each other.
Making love wasn't just pleasurable, it felt playful, like a game. She preferred from behind, saying
it felt better the deeper the penetration. She was on the edge of the bed, and after only a short time, she climaxed again. My first time with her was
when I was behind her, rubbing her breasts as I thrust, then, holding her big
ass , I ejaculated and finished.
The condom even joined in the fun, playing a joke on us. After my penis completely went soft, I
pulled it out of her vagina. Huh, where's the semen? Uh, looking down, the condom was torn. After that, we basically stopped using
condoms.
We lay in bed, chatting. She said she hadn't had sex for over half a year because she'd broken up with her boyfriend
. She still had a whole bunch of condoms left from when she bought them, stored under the wardrobe. I said, "Great, we can
do it often from now on.
" Speaking of playing, I actually did it with her once.
After the first time, there was a second and a third, especially since we were so close. I don't remember how
many times we did it, but we did it once. That time, I was exhausted. In the sweltering heat of Guangdong,
without air conditioning, we played all afternoon. I was that tireless calf, and she was that
cow in heat. Luckily, I only ejaculated twice that afternoon, so I didn't die from exhaustion. She had actually shaved her pubic hair beforehand, and the dark hole under
her pubic had become like a steamed bun with two sides. She asked me, "Isn't it pretty?" I
said, "Even sexier. It looks so exciting, I want it so much." Actually, her pubic hair was quite thick, and at first, it pricked
me and made me feel itchy and uncomfortable. We went from the bed to the bedside, to the living room, to the floor, to the kitchen counter, to the bathroom.
Especially in the living room, the floor was covered in our sweat. We did it right there on the tiled floor. Pushing and shoving,
we unknowingly went from one spot to another. I sat on the floor, and she straddled me. We rubbed and
swayed, the floor was covered in sweat, her buttocks were slippery, and it felt really good to sway. It was
much easier than swaying on the bed. When we got tired, I would keep her inside me, and we would hug each other, chat, joke, and
drink some water. After resting, we would continue. For a while, my penis, though not hard, was numb.
I couldn't feel anything. Then I would pull out, let it air out, and give her a kiss. The feeling would return. Then we would continue. It's too painful to
recall that time. After that battle, I was completely exhausted; my ears were ringing. As for her,
she couldn't even wear high heels when she went to eat that afternoon; her legs were weak. I thought, she was better. So many orgasms,
but wasn't exhausted. After that, my penis felt uncomfortable. It felt a little hard and painful. Then,
for a week or two, I didn't even feel lustful after a full meal. From then on, my sex life became very casual,
satisfying my partner once or twice, and then obediently giving in to my own desires.
There are too many people in Guangzhou; it's not good, the environment isn't good. As for the security personnel in the urban villages of Guangzhou, I can't say much about them.
That night, around 1 a.m., the security guard who disturbed our tryst in the open—I had a lot of resentment towards him.
Between the two villages we lived in, there was a river, the one where a dragon boat often moored. We
strolled there that night. There weren't many people around, only the occasional couple embracing. We both
felt aroused very naturally. My hands always liked to linger on her full breasts, exploring and wandering. After
a while, I started to lift her skirt, pinching her two plump lips together. Moisture flowed out, and I
gently poked it with my fingers. Outside, a cool breeze was blowing. My fingers poked her warm, moist vulva, and she began to moan softly,
very subdued. We looked around, but there wasn't any suitable place for us to have sex in the open. First, we found a big
tree and were leaning against it, about to move, when a car drove by. The headlights shone on us, so we moved away; the spot
wasn't ideal, and the light wasn't dim enough. Back at the chair, the couple next to us had just left. I quickly pulled
her to sit down. I wanted her to sit sideways with her buttocks sticking out for me to enter, but no matter how I adjusted, it didn't feel right.
So, I pulled her onto my lap, lifted her skirt, and pulled her panties aside a little, and she sat down.
Although it wasn't fully inside, it felt good to have a bit of it inside, letting her feel it. I
pressed her waist, not wanting her to move too much—we were out in the wild, and there were always other people around. I wanted to thrust gently. Too much movement
would be too obvious. But as I moved, she couldn't help but start moving more vigorously. Luckily, she managed to suppress her moans. I
followed her rhythm, thrusting in and out. Just as we were getting carried away, I heard footsteps, and a
person carrying a stick slowly approached us. Startled, I quickly grabbed her and pulled her down. Then put the skirt down.
To cover it up. Pretend we're just hugging. The guy with the stick stood there and said a few words to us,
I didn't quite hear them, something like, "Don't cause a scene here."
Sigh, what a mess, ruined. We'll have to go back to the room to finish this last step.
...
And so, we maintained a purely sexual relationship for over a year. Usually on weekends, usually during her
safe period , I'd go to her room. Like friends, we'd cook together, we had friends, and occasionally
we'd get together without any inhibitions. Although our friends never stumbled upon our intimate moment, they all understood. But
we didn't talk about anything serious, and it wasn't like a romantic relationship. Other than that, we talked about everything.
After returning from that Spring Festival, we made love. I told her I was going back, maybe getting married, and basically
wouldn't be staying in Guangzhou anymore. She said, "So soon. Men like you, marrying just for the sake of marriage, won't be happy."
I said, "Maybe, marriage is just about starting a family. I haven't really decided yet." We parted without sadness
or reluctance, and I left.
Half a year later, I returned to get some things. We even had a passionate encounter. I
've never forgotten her body. But this time, I noticed that her breasts—those beautiful breasts I loved most—while
not sagging and still so hot and arousing, were no longer as firm and
elastic Perhaps, for the past two years, I'd been stuck in my initial impression of her, oblivious to
the changes. But youth fades quickly. A woman's spring is even shorter. Once upon a time, she said she liked pretty bras,
wire-free ones with beautiful patterns, thin silk fabrics that felt free and comfortable. She took out her
beautiful bras and showed them to me, one by one. They captivated me, intoxicated me.
Not long after, I came to Guangzhou again and called her. I thought we were always good friends
, not in a romantic relationship, and she wouldn't be hurt. She asked me to come to her place; she missed me. I refused. The more
she urged me to go, the less I wanted to go. She cried. It was the first time I'd ever heard her cry; she was always so loud and boisterous,
but now she was just sobbing. "You heartless bastard! You went back and got married like that without even discussing it with me, just
leaving like that. You haven't come to see me in so long, and now that I'm here, I just want you to be with me, and you won't even come." I felt a pang of
guilt . But in the end, I didn't let it go, and we never contacted each other again.
I've heard that women often feel a kind of attachment and longing for the men who have possessed their bodies, especially
those . I think my Black Pearl, after being separated from me for so long, has probably
started to feel attached to me. From a seemingly ordinary separation to heartbroken tears later—it's all about growing feelings over time. An inexplicable,
indescribable affection. I hope she finds a good home.

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