Memories of May 1-3 Complete

page views:1 Publication date:2023-05-19

Memories of May
(Word count: 4000)

I. An Encounter
In May, Sichuan was bathed in sunshine. Flakes of catkins floated in the sky, carried by a gentle breeze, drifting into my supermarket. Annoyed, I closed the door, let out a long sigh, yawned, and a wave of drowsiness washed over me. My long-standing habit of taking a nap was triggered. I shook my head vigorously, gave the clerk a few instructions, and lazily went upstairs to lie on the bed.
I wanted to sleep, but for some reason, I was restless, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep. Sigh! Annoying May! For four years, every May has brought me unease, restlessness, so much melancholy, so much sorrow, so much anticipation, so much disappointment.
Closing my eyes, scenes from four years ago involuntarily flashed before my eyes. I didn't want to remember, I wanted to forget, but my thoughts involuntarily drifted back to four years ago.
I live in a small town with relatively convenient transportation. When I was twenty, I met my husband, Zhang Weishan, through an introduction. He was honest and simple, quick-witted, and while not exceptionally good, he wasn't particularly bad either. He didn't use many sweet words or romantic gestures, and we married soon after. Two years later, we had our first son, and my husband and I were overjoyed.
My husband discussed with me the idea of opening a supermarket to supplement our income. I wasn't very good at business, so I agreed, contributing all our savings. Our parents also helped out, and soon our supermarket opened. We lived in a two-story house; the supermarket was on the first floor, and we used the second floor for our living quarters. Although those days were tough, they were the happiest time of our lives.
Over the years, the supermarket business unexpectedly became very successful, especially on market days. We were almost overwhelmed with work and exhausted. My husband loved and cared for me, and after discussing it, we hired two employees, which made things much easier for me. When our eldest son was four, my husband and I decided to have another child. We had hoped for a woman, but it was another son. We were still very happy and content.
After giving birth, I was busy taking care of the baby, and my husband was even busier, with his business booming. For some reason, things between us became increasingly mundane, lacking passion, and we made love less often. But I admit, I'm a woman who can't stand loneliness; I crave that passionate sex. Looking at my tired husband every day, I felt an indescribable loneliness and isolation.
To ease my husband's burden, and with my mother-in-law helping with the children, I threw myself back into running the supermarket. I thought life would be like this: the daily routine of buying and selling goods, washing clothes and cooking at night, taking care of my husband and two sons—I had no complaints, and I felt happy.
But my heart was always restless, filled with a yearning, a strange impulse. Perhaps it was all destined. Four years ago, in May, something unexpected changed my peaceful and comfortable life, bringing both joy and pain.
Our town isn't very big; most people know each other, many are related, and our lives were relatively good.
It was a sweltering afternoon in May, the shop was nearly empty, and I was half-asleep when that inexplicable impulse resurfaced.
Suddenly, a deep, unfamiliar baritone voice reached my ears: "Excuse me, do you have any good nutritional supplements? I need them for a patient." The voice jolted me awake. I opened my eyes to find a man about my age standing behind the counter. My eyes lit up; I'd never seen him before. He was handsome, with a masculine air about him.
A little flustered, I asked, "What do you need? What patient do you need?" The man smiled and said, "Oh, my father is sick and hospitalized at your town hospital. Could you help me pick out a few things, ma'am? I don't know much about medicine."
I still don't understand why my heart was racing, why I was so interested in him. I introduced a few items, and after he paid, he smiled and said, "Thank you!" My heart skipped a beat. I never expected to say to him, "You're very filial. What's your name?" "My name is Han Rui."
It was already wrong of me to casually ask a stranger for his name, but I actually told him mine. Perhaps this was fate.
He turned around, smiling, and said, "Han Rui, hmm, a nice name. My name is Song Xuefeng, you can call me Xiaofeng. Goodbye, big sister." Watching him disappear, I suddenly felt so lost. That voice and smile were deeply imprinted in my mind. I couldn't rest all afternoon, constantly thinking about his voice and smile.
That night, I unusually snuggled into my husband's arms. The impulse in my heart excited me greatly, but why was my husband so unromantic? He simply lay on top of me, mechanically repeating the same action, ejaculating just as I felt I was about to climax. We had a quick and easy night, and I collapsed beside him, exhausted, falling asleep. I was incredibly annoyed, tossing and turning for a long time before finally falling asleep.
Actually, my husband and I have a fairly harmonious sex life. Although I don't always have an orgasm, I'm often satisfied. I like to moan during sex; it really makes me happier and the pleasure more intense. But when Song Xuefeng's image appears in my mind, why do I feel nothing at all with my husband? I can't find the answer.
The next day, I suddenly longed for him to appear again. I spent the whole morning in a state of turmoil, completely lost, my eyes unconsciously looking towards the door. Disappointment after disappointment, longing after longing, I drifted into the afternoon in a daze.
Just when I was about to give up, I heard those familiar footsteps. I stood up nervously. Yes, it was him. He came, smiling. My heart suddenly started racing. A deep voice entered my mind again, "Hello, Han Rui. Could you get me something?"
I carefully prepared the things for him and started chatting. I learned he was from a neighboring town. Because the hospital here was better, he sent his father here for treatment. He was witty and humorous; every word he said deeply touched my heart. Talking to him made me very excited and happy. Gradually, we became familiar with each other. He would come to my shop every day to buy things. Each time, I would talk to him a lot, and I could understand the light in his eyes when he looked at me.
Being with him, I suddenly realized this was what love felt like. My heart would race, and my face would blush. Every time he left, I felt very lost, not wanting to let him go. I don't know why I thought of him at night; thinking of him made my heart race and my face blush. At the same time, I felt deeply guilty towards my husband sleeping next to me. I hugged him and held him close. I just don't have that feeling. Countless times I've sighed, countless times I've felt sorry for my husband, countless times I've told myself, "I won't see him tomorrow, I'll go out and hide from him, he'll be gone in a few days, why bother?"
But I betray myself time and time again. The first thing I do when I wake up is check if he's here. I'll deliberately dress up, anxiously anticipating that familiar footsteps and that enchanting smile appearing before me, getting excited over it.
I have a feeling, I see a burning light in his eyes, a heat enough to melt me. He must have seen the emotions in my eyes too. I've thought more than once, what should happen between us?
My husband is farsighted; he plans to buy a car, saving on shipping costs for goods and also wanting to expand his business. Of course I'm happy, it's just that the driving school is too far from home. I need to go to the county town to learn to drive.
It's so boring. My husband went to driving lessons again and won't be back tonight. Why isn't he coming? I feel so lost and lonely. I anxiously wait for the familiar footsteps, but he doesn't appear. Did his father go home after being discharged from the hospital? Why didn't he tell me? Why do I have such a strong feeling that he will come? It's already dark, and the shop assistants have all gone home. I've closed the windows. Normally, I would have locked the door and gone upstairs to rest.
But why am I still staring blankly at the door, foolishly waiting for those familiar footsteps? I don't know, I can't explain it. This impulse makes me restless, anticipating his arrival. My lower body is constantly wet and sticky. Why is this happening?
Night had fallen, and the townspeople were long asleep. I was still staring blankly at the door, feeling so disappointed I wanted to cry. Just as I was about to get up and close the door, I heard soft footsteps. It was him, it had to be him! My heart pounded, and I almost ran out to greet him with joy.
He was here, he really was here! He pushed open the door, his eyes still that smiling gaze, but today they were exceptionally bright. That intense look melted me once more. My face burned, my heart pounded, and another surge of desire welled up inside me. His
deep voice rang out, "Could you get me something?" My heart trembled. I was so excited I didn't know what to get, and I didn't even ask him what he wanted. I frantically grabbed a bunch of food, placed it on the counter, and handed him the plastic bag with trembling hands. He was staring at me, the fire in his eyes suffocating me, and his hands were shaking too.
He knocked a pack of cigarettes to the ground, and we both bent down to pick it up almost simultaneously. Our hands touched, whether intentionally or unintentionally, and a jolt of electricity shot through his hand. After a brief pause, he grabbed my hand. My mind went blank; all I could hear was the frantic pounding of our hearts. Instinctively, I tried to pull my hand away, but I was so weak; my entire arm wouldn't obey me.
I can't tell if he embraced me or if I threw myself into his arms, but we held each other tightly. His hot lips were kissing my face passionately, and I writhed in response. Our mouths met, thirstily kissing, and he sucked on my tongue, relentlessly drawing it in. My heart was leaving my body; it was a strange feeling. He was drinking the saliva from my mouth. My God, the faint tobacco scent on his breath was so sweet.
His hand slipped inside my underwear, kneading my buttocks forcefully. Ah, his fingers touched my most tender spot! I trembled, wriggling my hips to match his kneading. My buttocks were now completely exposed. With each kneading, my lust intensified. I almost lost control, throwing off my pants and underwear, which had fallen to my knees.
Strong hands lifted me and placed me on the counter, my private parts completely exposed before him. I felt no shame, only a burning desire. My hazy eyes watched him tremble as he unbuckled his belt and quickly pulled down his pants. Ah, his penis was already proudly erect, a glistening, clear fluid at the tip telling me how much it needed me.
I had lost consciousness. He excitedly moved closer to me, closer and closer. Ah, his hot cock paused briefly at the entrance of my vagina. Oh my god, it went in! So hard, so powerful, so deep! Blood rushed to my brain. I groaned, my whole body trembling. My vaginal fluids gushed out, blocked inside by his hot cock. It was so uncomfortable.
He slowly pulled his penis out. It felt so empty. My juices dripped as he withdrew. Ah, no, don't pull it all out! He seemed to understand my inner cry, leaving only the head of his penis inside me. After a brief pause, with a "plop," he thrust into my vagina again. I couldn't help but let out a pleasurable moan, "Ah, so good!"
He didn't stop, thrusting rapidly and violently. The pleasure spread quickly throughout my body from the rapid thrusts. This was a completely new pleasure, one I'd never experienced with my husband. This pleasure made me scream wildly. I no longer cared if anyone saw us. Only one thought was running through my mind: harder, more intensely. I wanted it, I wanted it, I wanted this man to fuck me. Fuck me relentlessly. Orgasms flooded me, suffocating me, making me scream wildly. The creaking of the counter beneath us was like an accompaniment.
The moment his hot semen shot into my body, we trembled and held each other tightly. He sucked on my tongue forcefully, and I sucked on his penis with my genitals, unwilling to separate for a long time.
To be continued
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