The women I've experienced in my life

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

Every woman I've encountered in my life is a book, and each could be written into one. But I'm lazy, and I feel that even if I wrote it down, it wouldn't be published. So I'll leave it at that. Now, let's just write an outline.
1. From seeing her vagina to getting her vagina, it spanned 44 years. One day in first grade, after cleaning, my classmate Xiao Yan sat on a tree branch, wearing baggy shorts, and that's when I first saw her vagina. The two tender labia. I still remember it vividly. Until a class reunion 44 years later, I felt it was necessary to fulfill this life's dream. So I deliberately approached her. But a fifty-year-old woman is not someone you can get close to. After only a few days of contact, she started crying about her ten-year sexual slump with her husband. Wasn't that a clear indication that she wanted me to have sex with her? One night at her house, I ended my 44-year sexual dream. I had sex with her. From a tender vagina to an old vagina, it spanned 44 years of longing. But her vagina had changed from fair and tender to a dark forest. Afterwards, she wouldn't let me go home. I was scared, so I climbed over the wall to get out. I never did it again. She was a woman who disregarded everything, while I was a man who hesitated.
2. My wife. She entered my life relatively early. The girl from high school had a rosy face and a loud voice when she stood on the podium. Her large breasts bounced as she read aloud. I was probably captivated by them. She had a small house where she didn't live with her parents. I played with her breasts there for at least a year or two. But every time we had sex, she cried out in pain. I didn't understand why; I had no sexual experience. So for two years, I didn't penetrate her. Until one day, she felt I was her man, and she resolutely endured the pain to let me in. Her vagina was difficult to penetrate. But no one mentioned losing her virginity. There was no blood. She kept trying to explain. But I'm not that kind of man; I don't have a virginity complex. I was just conflicted; I was always the one fucking her, and if I couldn't get in, who could? Our sex life was incredibly harmonious. She always had an orgasm. Each encounter lasted about ten minutes. The key was that we could both keep up with the sexual rhythm. So she herself kept questioning why we broke up? Was it because of one person?
3. My older sister. The older sister I'm talking about now is the one mentioned above. She's not my biological sister, so there's no way to prove incest. I've always thought she was quite promiscuous. We were high school classmates. She was beautiful and tall. Her classmate happened to be a guy who claimed his father was a commander. So we all called her "Commander's Wife." But she seemed to enjoy that name. Back then, I was rather shy and naturally didn't dare pursue a woman like that. But she started dating my best high school classmate. As for me, I honestly and obediently acknowledged her as my older sister, to avoid any suspicion of impropriety! But this woman was troublesome. After graduating high school, every time she came back from university in the city, she would come to see me. Even when I was with my wife, she wouldn't care and would drag me out for a two-hour "talk." Once, while chatting privately with my wife, she asked, "Who do you think is the prettiest in our class?" I blurted out, "My older sister." She gave me a sidelong glance and said, "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder." This sowed the seeds of our breakup. Another time, I went too far. I was screaming in my sleep when my wife woke me up, saying I was having a nightmare. "What did you dream about?" I blurted out, "Maybe I was confused by the dream." I blurted out, "I dreamt that my sister and I were swimming naked in the water, swimming and swimming, the water was crystal clear. My sister's naked body was so beautiful. Suddenly, a tiny man, only a foot tall, rushed in front of me, hugged my sister from behind, and inserted his penis inside her." After saying that, I suddenly felt like I'd stumbled into a major disaster. How could I tell my wife about such a erotic dream? The background of the dream was that my sister had betrayed my classmate, finding a playboy-like man in the big city. This was the prototype of the tiny man in my dream. When I asked my sister why she did this, her explanation stunned me. She said that after four years, this man (my classmate) hadn't touched me. But she'd only known that other man for three days before he took her virginity. Once she lost her virginity, of course, she could only be his. I immediately felt indignant for my classmate. My classmate told me this: before we got married, I wouldn't touch her. I wanted to protect her. I'd found the perfect man, but he was a complete idiot. Even idiots have their moments of anger. When he found out she'd found another man, his desire for revenge never died. Until one day, my sister came back and said she wanted to meet him. My sister is so promiscuous. Of all people to meet, she had to meet him. On the day of the meeting, she told me, "Don't leave me." But my classmate said, "You can leave after dinner, give me the keys." Who should I listen to? I thought my sister was just being coy, and meeting him was just asking for sex. After dinner at my house, I made an excuse and left. That night, my sister was "living" raped. Why do I say "living"? Because my sister resisted violently. I don't know why she was like that. Anyway, from the broken things on the floor, I knew it wasn't a simple peaceful rape. The next day when I went there, the man had run away. I became the scapegoat. Besides cursing and crying, I even said I would report it to the police. This really scared me. I'm deeply involved in this matter. First, the location was provided by me. It was 1983. During the crackdown, if I reported it, my friend's life would be in danger. I don't know where I got the courage, but I ran up to her, grabbed her hand, and kissed her. She burst into even louder sobs. She cried, saying, "It's been so many years, and you only dare to hold my hand now! Where were you all this time?" Like a jolt to the soul, I cried too: "Sister, it's my fault. I missed you, but I didn't have the courage." In the midst of our embrace, my hands were enveloped in the scent of her flesh. I actually carried her to my bed. We even took off our clothes. I had been with her for two days. And, I ejaculated all over her. I felt like I had found the most beautiful vagina in the world. Her vagina was so alluring and mysterious. One day, two days, three days later, she became excited. She screamed and squeezed like crazy. No man could last long like that before she exploded. (A side note: there are many more women waiting to be written about later.) Simply put, after one day, two days, three days is very simple. We'd undress as soon as we met, have sex for half an hour, and only talk about other things after we were both satisfied. Back then, there was no concept of going to hotels. We made love at my house and her house. Even though we were afraid of being caught at home, it was still the only option. A few times we did it outdoors, in a secluded spot in the countryside. But farmers were often walking by in the distance, making it nerve-wracking. She was a brave woman; a few times we did it in the women's restroom at her hospital where she worked night shifts. I said no, but she insisted. Sexual desire is a devil. When it comes, nothing is feared. We maintained this sexual relationship for about ten years. Until one incident happened that planted a seed of unhappiness in both of our hearts. I have two buddies, A-Dan and A-Wen, who usually take good care of me. If they have any good women to have sex with, they'll always invite me. I've shared their girlfriends with them, whether long-term or short-term. When my slutty sister came, they usually accompanied her. No matter how much I hinted, she never let them have sex with her. That's the downside of this "slutty sister"—she's secretly horny, yet also pretentious. She wants to be a whore but also wants to be a virtuous woman. Why do I say that? Every time she comes back from the city, she likes to hang out with us guys. Even if I don't invite the two of them, she'll still invite them over. And she agrees to share a room and a bed. Then she can let them take advantage of her, but she can never actually penetrate her. When things get heated, she says, "I'll find a more open-minded female colleague to join us." Sure enough, one day she brought a female colleague. The five of us were in one room. I arrived a little late. The new woman had already slept with two men. As soon as I came in, she yelled, "Your two friends are no good, they go soft as soon as you squeeze them!" Seeing a new woman, naked, waiting for me, how could I control myself? I climbed on top and started fucking her. That cunt was indeed top-notch. Tight. Resilient. So good. I forgot one thing: she was also naked in the corner of the bed next to me. My two friends said she'd been watching them naked for an hour, but wouldn't let them have sex. When I arrived, I went straight for the new girl. After that, no matter how I explained, it was no use. She said, "I've been waiting for you. And you came and went straight for someone else. Where do you put me?" Actually, I was pretty angry too. After all this, why are you still being so reserved? It's just playing around. Are there so many textbooks inside a vagina? Your vagina is yours; what you do with it is your own business. That's called freedom, understand? I told you to play with my friends; if you don't, that's your business. Besides, we do this often; new girls aren't easy to come by. Actually, this new girl, besides her amazing grip, has nothing that compares to her. Her looks are incomparable. Therefore, my two brothers were still undeterred, spreading her legs wide. Our penises were just an inch away from her vagina, unable to penetrate. This woman just wouldn't let us in. Actually, her vaginal fluids were already flowing like a stream. Then, while I was urinating, she also came out. Standing in the living room, I had sex with her, finally relieving her pent-up desire temporarily. But the next day, when we went out together, she started ignoring me again. I was happy to have fun with a new woman, hugging and kissing without saying a word. From that day on, my sister and I went our separate ways. We stopped talking about sex when we were together. But the shadows of my sister and me were still there. No matter where I was with other women, my wife always thought I was with her. I was happy to let her frame me. It's better to find one woman than a bunch of women. As a result, she made up a story and went to her house to make a scene. Fortunately, every time she came to the door, my sister's husband was out. I finally couldn't take it anymore and got a divorce. But after the divorce, my wife was shocked to find that my new girlfriend wasn't my sister. The world was in chaos. My wife was in chaos. How could this be? My sister got divorced six months after mine. She didn't divorce for me either; she found out her husband was having an affair with a younger woman. This was the reality she couldn't face. She once confidently told me that all the men in the world would seek out other women, but he wouldn't. I asked her where her confidence came from. She said, "He's terrible in bed." They started sleeping in separate beds. The last time they made love was a year ago. Now, she has to face the fact that her husband has been keeping a mistress for five years. When she dragged her suitcase out, she was penniless. She and her husband had been together for so many years, and he had always managed all the money. The house was his too. Divorced, she and I walked alone on the deserted street, so calm. So cold. But I couldn't rekindle the passion of the past. Finally, we went our separate ways, each finding our own partners.
The fundamental reason my sister and I couldn't stay together was the difference in our values. Essentially, she and my ex-wife were the same kind of woman. Both kept a close eye on their men. I was tired of living in a climate of fear. Even when I was making love with other women, I was always thinking that my wife at home would suddenly call. That tension, that exhaustion. Therefore, in my second marriage, I must find a woman who is open-minded, someone who can find men to sleep with, and also someone who can bring women home for threesomes, foursomes, making the house awash in filth. God created penises and vaginas as pleasure machines; when else can I not have them? Life is too short. Actually, I really like prostitutes who follow the rules. How wonderful it would be to find a prostitute as a wife someday. Speaking of which, I wanted to take advantage of the time after the divorce to make up for everything I missed before. But facing reality, I realized that finding a woman to sleep with isn't so easy. First of all, finding any woman costs money. And the divorce has left me financially devastated. Not only did I give all my money to my wife, but I also took out a loan to compensate her. After deducting loan payments from my monthly salary, where would I find money for prostitutes? Now I understand why poor families divorce less often—they can't find food after a divorce!
Married for ten years, eating the same dish for ten years. I thought that was the most tragic thing. Even more tragic was running out of food. Perhaps you'll say, why not ask my sister? The man she later found was also a ruthless man, and he kept a close eye on her. Besides, my divorced status would pique her interest. I didn't want to.

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The women I've experienced in my life

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