My Story with Sister Zhao, Part 8

page views:1 Publication date:2023-05-11

Word count: 3213
(VIII) A sizzling sound woke me up, followed by the aroma of a delicious fragrance. I slowly opened my eyes and saw the back of a woman in the kitchen. Her ponytail was high up, and she was only wearing an apron. The apron hooked around her long, white neck, and the tie was loosely hanging around her slender waist. The full flesh of her buttocks jiggled slightly with her light movements. Her two straight, long legs swayed from side to side, and her jade feet were in a pair of oversized slippers that didn't fit—my slippers. As if sensing my gaze, Sister Zhao turned around and saw that I had opened my eyes and was staring at her. She smiled at me and said, "The eggs are fried. Get ready to get up." Sister Zhao also had such a virtuous side. I was mesmerized and found it hard to connect the woman in front of me with that promiscuous mistress. I got up, washed my face, and sat down at the dining table. Sister Zhao had already prepared all the breakfast and was sitting opposite me. For a woman in her forties, Sister Zhao takes excellent care of herself. If she told someone she was only thirty, probably no one would doubt it. Sister Zhao looked at my silly expression, covered her mouth and chuckled, then kicked my foot under the table. "Eat quickly, it's getting cold."
"Okay!" I devoured the food, quickly finishing the plate. Although breakfast was simple, each dish was exquisite—the kind of meticulousness only a mature woman possesses. I was still somewhat troubled by what happened last night, and secretly glanced at Sister Zhao. I noticed her expression was calm, revealing no emotion. "Slave," Sister Zhao addressed me, and I knew in my heart that another day of training had begun. "Master," I quickly knelt down. "What are your orders?" "I thought about it for a long time last night," Sister Zhao said calmly, "Perhaps you are right. Maintaining this relationship might be the best choice." My heart trembled; I regretted my decision last night. But what's done is done, and I could only grit my teeth and accept it. "Master," I lowered my head to kiss Sister Zhao's toes. Sister Zhao didn't flinch. "I'm willing to serve you for the rest of my life." "Silly slave," Sister Zhao rubbed her foot on my hair, her voice laced with laughter. "I'm satisfied with your kindness. Once you get married, I'll have to give way to your wife, hehe." "I don't want to get married. You're enough for me," I said, flicking my big toe with my tongue. "Don't talk nonsense. Aren't you the only son in your family?" "Then my wife and I will serve you together." "Hehehe," Sister Zhao laughed. "That's fine too. Having another female slave isn't bad." Sister Zhao seemed genuinely moved by my words and thought seriously for a moment. "If you two have a child, how about your whole family serve me? Hahaha." "Haa," I mumbled, my tongue being pulled out by Sister Zhao's toes, almost dripping saliva onto the floor. "You're so shameless," Sister Zhao released my toes, crossed her legs, and gently stepped on my face with one foot. There was a slight plastic smell on the soles of my feet; I guessed it was from my slippers. "To kill time in the morning, Sister Zhao took out her notebook and we went through all the videos she'd saved. When we watched the one about her having sex with Boss Zhang, Sister Zhao had me give her oral sex to arouse her. After reaching orgasm, Sister Zhao tilted her head back, the flush fading from her face. She lazily clamped my head between her thighs, swaying it from side to side. 'It still feels a little different,' Sister Zhao sighed deeply. 'What's different?' I looked up, my tongue stopping its cleaning. Sister Zhao gave a soft hum, pressed my head down, and gestured for me to continue cleaning up the mess." "The feeling of orgasm," Sister Zhao said after savoring the memory, "is a little different." I was a little confused, but Sister Zhao continued, "There are two types of female orgasms. One is a clitoral orgasm, which is what you just brought out with your mouth." The hostess patted my head, "And the other type of orgasm," Sister Zhao licked her tongue, "is the kind you see in the video, achieved through penetration." Hearing this, I felt a little uncomfortable, because one is done with the tongue, and the other with the penis. For male animals, the latter is undoubtedly more worthy of boasting. "So which one do you prefer?" I was more concerned about this question. "I like them both," Sister Zhao said. "Each has its own beauty. I like watching you lick my genitals with your tongue. Besides the feeling, the sight makes me even more aroused." Sister Zhao paused for a moment. "But when Lao Zhang's penis fills my vagina, I feel very full, especially when he reaches the deepest part of my uterus. I can feel very... how to say it, full!" "And," Sister Zhao seemed to be reliving the feeling, "and the orgasm I reach with Lao Zhang lasts a very long time."
I could see that the mistress was starting to prefer the feeling of having sex with Mr. Zhang, and I couldn't help but feel jealous. I started teasing Sister Zhao's clitoris with my tongue again, which made her gasp several times. "The slave is jealous," Sister Zhao said with a laugh, pulling my hair to separate my genitals from hers. "What's the rush? Today I'll let you enjoy Lao Zhang's treatment, hehehe..." I couldn't believe my ears. Could it be that Sister Zhao had changed her mind and agreed to have normal sex with me? A sudden surge of joy overwhelmed me, but worry followed closely. In terms of size, I was far inferior to Mr. Zhang, and in terms of duration, I was less than half as good. Sister Zhao was used to large-sized sex toys; my standard size would likely be difficult to satisfy her. The more I thought about it, the more worried I became, and even my penis seemed to shrink. Just then, Sister Zhao's phone rang. She glanced at it and beamed, "You're here so fast!" I was startled. "Here? Who's here?" Sister Zhao gave me a mischievous smile. "You'll find out soon enough." My heart sank. No wonder she asked for my address last night—could it be Mr. Zhang? Why did Sister Zhao ask him to come to my house? Could it be…? I dared not think too much, but lewd images began to surface in my mind: In the image, a man and a woman were sitting on my sofa, enjoying sexual intercourse, their moans and the sounds of flesh colliding intertwined. The man's thick penis was thrusting in and out of the woman's vagina, eliciting soft moans from her. Beneath the woman's buttocks, there was another man's face, his tongue lolling out, licking her anus for her pleasure. After both the man and woman reached orgasm simultaneously, the woman straddled the other man's face, laughing lewdly as she watched him consume her semen. Clearly, in this impromptu fantasy, Sister Zhao was the woman, and I was the man being ridden beneath her—if this could even be called a man… I was somewhat surprised by the content of my fantasy, but it seemed that ever since my experience in the office last time, I subconsciously harbored a craving for Sister Zhao to directly cuckold me. I quickly shook my head, trying to clear these images from my mind. Knock, knock, knock, the door opened. Sister Zhao opened the door first. "Hello, Ms. Lin Ru, your package." "Okay, thank you, please sign here." Sister Zhao took a large package, handed it to me, and quickly signed her name on the delivery slip. She then saw the delivery person off. A package? My mind was still reeling. I had thought it was Mr. Zhang, but it turned out to be a delivery person. I blushed at my own fantasies and felt guilty for misunderstanding Sister Zhao. "Who is Lin Ru?" I finally asked the first question that had been on my mind. "Of course it's me, you idiot! Can you use your real name to buy these things?!" Sister Zhao said as she unpacked the box. Before I could ask my next question, she had already taken out a black cylindrical object from the box. That's right, a whole box of sex toys, which naturally answered my second question. However, it was more like SM products than sex toys. Sister Zhao laid them out one by one on the dining table, fiddling with them, making me feel like I was looking at a display case of SM equipment. Various whips, collars, gags, hoods, handcuffs, wearable dildos, low-temperature candles, lubricant, condoms, women's leather clothing, enema syringes, pitch-black female phalluses, and some other things I couldn't name. I suspected Sister Zhao had bought everything from that online store. So many different items; it terrified me. Clearly, I was the test subject for these tools. "Sister Zhao, why did you buy all this stuff?" I asked my third question. "To train my slave. I have two and a half days left," Sister Zhao said, picking up the dildo; she seemed quite satisfied with the size. "When did you buy it?" I continued to ask. "Last night. I placed the order before asking for your address," Sister Zhao said, picking up a short whip and waving it in the air. "That's too fast!" I took a step back to avoid accidentally injuring myself. "I found a local seller in Shanghai. It was a large order, and they used SF Express for express delivery. Of course it was fast!" Sister Zhao rolled her eyes at me, as if I shouldn't have asked these questions. "How much did this cost?" I couldn't help but mutter. "It's only a little over five thousand, it's for you, I bought you the best, I'm good to you, right?" Sister Zhao winked at me and smiled maliciously. "There are still two large items, they weren't shipped from the same place, so you'll have to wait a bit."
I have no doubt about Sister Zhao's financial situation. As a mid-level manager earning an annual salary, she can easily earn over 300,000 yuan in bonuses alone. She also owns two mortgage-free properties in downtown Shanghai, so she lives a very comfortable life. However, Sister Zhao is quite low-key at the company. My knowledge of her family situation comes only from brief conversations over the phone or from her tastes. Perhaps this is the life of the middle class—no pressure to survive, able to improve their quality of life according to their own desires. "These things…" I stared at the wearable dildo on the table, my heart pounding with apprehension. Although I had fantasized about being violated by Sister Zhao, the thought of it happening in real life… made my sphincter tighten. "Don't be afraid, I'll develop you little by little," Sister Zhao chuckled at my nervousness. "After seeing so many videos you've given me, I've been wanting to try it for a while." "Me too," I blurted out, startled. Sister Zhao looked at me in surprise, then a wicked smile played on her lips—it was incredibly beautiful. I knew the lewd game was about to begin…

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My Story with Sister Zhao, Part 8

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