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My true experience 

    page views:1  Publication date:2023-03-12 08:11:14  
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Please pay attention to formatting next time you post! I've noticed that many of the articles submitted to Huanhuan are
based on the authors' imaginations. Think about it, how many people actually have relationships with their mothers, sisters, or fathers? I've read some real stories, including one about a younger brother who couldn't resist his lust and had a relationship with his sister. Now both siblings are living in misery, unlike the "happily ever after" stories in some online novels. Because of thousands of years of Chinese culture, incest is heavily regulated by ethics and morality; it's not as simple and easy as some netizens claim. For many of the authors who write these stories, those scenarios often only exist in their imaginations; in reality, they cannot and dare not let them happen. However, we are still grateful to these netizens for sharing their thoughts, allowing everyone to discuss them and satisfying the innocent lust that has been bound for thousands of years.
I've always believed that men are inherently lustful; I think it's innate, not something acquired through negative influences. The saying "food and sex are human nature" is prevalent. China has always portrayed lust in a negative light, which has only created a group of hypocrites who are outwardly respectable but inwardly lewd. In this respect, we are far worse than Western countries.
Looking back now, I realize that even when I was very young... I had fantasies about the opposite sex, but as a child, I didn't understand matters between men and women,
so my fantasies were extremely childish
and even laughable. The first time I was stimulated by the opposite sex was when I was a few years old. My mother carried me on her back in the street, and my hand fell from her shoulder and touched her breast. It felt very different, soft and extremely comfortable. So, without any hesitation, I grabbed one breast in each hand and stroked and squeezed it. Of course, these actions of a child of a few years old wouldn't be taken seriously. My mother just thought it was a child's affectionate gesture towards his mother, and passersby didn't find it strange either, unaware that... What a child thinks and feels is quite different.
My childhood curiosity about the opposite sex seems ridiculous now. I still remember an aunt who was close to my family and loved wearing green dresses. That bright green was very fashionable and alluring at the time. As a child, I would get incredibly excited whenever I saw that green dress. My only thought was to crawl under her dress. I never thought about what I would do inside; it seemed that just the thought of crawling in was enough to excite me.
Another time, the adults noticed a little bit... I remember one time... I visited another family with some elders and saw a magazine with an oil painting on it. It depicted a woman who had died, with a general kneeling sadly before her. The woman was naked. I was completely absorbed in the magazine, oblivious to the adults' conversation, until an aunt remarked with surprise that
a young child, just beginning to understand things, often encounters their mother as their first female contact. Moreover, in a child's world, their mother is the closest person to them. Given this fact, it's not surprising that many netizens now express a desire to have sex with their mothers. Freud said that a man's desire to have sex with his mother initially stems from a subconscious desire to return to his mother's body. I don't know if that's true or not. He also proposed a theory that men have a subconscious tendency to kill their fathers and marry their mothers, which I disagree with. For children, their mothers are the mature women they interact with most. Many children learn about women from their mothers, and when children develop a slight sexual awareness, they often use their mothers as objects of their sexual attraction. I myself am the same, except that all these thoughts exist in the subconscious and are not manifested in the conscious mind, so I am often unaware of them. When I was very young, one afternoon my mother was taking a nap in bed. I was playing alone and getting bored. I saw her sleeping soundly on her side, and suddenly I had an urge to touch her. I didn't know how to do it (and thankfully I didn't, otherwise I probably would have made a huge mistake and would have had a hard time for the rest of my life). So I secretly stood by the bed and reached out to touch my mother's buttocks, which were covered by a thin blanket. After only a few touches, my mother seemed to notice and turned over. I was so frightened that I ran away and that was the end of it. When I was a little older, in the summer, when my mother washed my face, she would wear a vest and squat down to wipe my body. I could vaguely see half of her breast. I would stare at it, sometimes thinking it was strange. Sometimes my mother would ask me what I was looking at, and I would lie and say nothing. My mother didn't seem to mind. Another time, my mother was changing clothes in front of me. When she put on her bra, her breasts were accidentally exposed. Although she quickly covered them up, that momentary stimulation was still quite a shock for a little child. Regarding my own mother, although I occasionally see some rather suggestive scenes, I don't, as some netizens say, constantly think about how to have sex with her. To me, my mother is, after all, my mother, an elder, an elder who can spank me hard when she's angry. Sexually, I rarely associate her with anything. Only during puberty, when masturbating, would I occasionally think of my mother and find it exciting—but that's another story.
When I was little, I also enjoyed another kind of play; I don't know if it counts as perverted, maybe it. Sometimes when my parents were out, I would secretly take my mother's skirt and underwear, put them on, and look at myself in the mirror. I felt very excited then; I think it might be considered a perverted form of sexual satisfaction. However, I was always worried that my parents would suddenly come back and see me.
Of course, adults wouldn't know these things. Back then, adults were probably completely unaware of children's sexual psychology, so they didn't care. Adults today are much more knowledgeable than in the past, and they should be more mindful of this, especially mothers. When with their sons, they should be careful not to stimulate their children's sexual instincts too early. Children's psychological development is immature, and sometimes a scene they accidentally witness can have a lifelong impact on them. But I digress. As I mentioned earlier, adults back then didn't care about children's sexual psychology. However, one time I went too far and finally couldn't escape a beating. Actually, it wasn't very serious; it was just that when the adults weren't home, I impulsively (or perhaps sexually aroused?) drew naked women all over the wall of the hallway outside the door. Of course, a child's drawing skills couldn't be very realistic; it was just a human figure with long hair and two large circles for breasts. Children often act without thinking, only caring about the fun they have while drawing, regardless of how adults will react. The result is usually a good
beating By elementary school, they know a little more about relationships between boys and girls, but still more about the unknown than the known. Some classmates are particularly precocious and teach those of us who know less. For example, once when a girl was sick and didn't attend class, a boy laughed and said, "She's playing with insects with her dad," while making a vulgar gesture (the left index finger extended, the right hand forming an "O" shape, with the index finger moving in and out of the "O" shape). I remember one particularly precocious boy who would show his penis to everyone during recess, especially the girls. I wonder if he later became an exhibitionist (I don't think it would be that serious). By fifth grade, I started to experience romantic feelings and knew which girl in my class I liked. That liking was pure and largely devoid of sexuality
. My sexual development truly began in middle school, which was the most dangerous time. For those of you who are parents, when children reach this age, it's time for appropriate sex education. I remember those nights when I couldn't sleep, my mind constantly racing with thoughts of relationships between men and women. The more I thought about it, the more I considered the possibility of actually doing it, which is a dangerous thought. I think the situation was probably even more dangerous for me. In the summer, on summer evenings, I would go out alone, ostensibly for a walk, but actually just wandering around, hoping to encounter single women I could take advantage of. However, I wasn't lucky (or maybe I was lucky enough), and I never did. During the summer vacation after my first year of junior high, my younger cousin and his sister came to visit. They slept in the same big bed. One night, I suddenly realized that although my cousin was very young, she was still a girl. This discovery made my heart race. For several nights, after everyone was asleep, I would secretly touch my cousin's genitals and even boldly press down on her body. Unfortunately, she was too young and didn't have breasts yet. But luckily, she was a sleepy child, and no matter how I manipulated her, she wouldn't wake up, at most just turning over. At that time, I wasn't fully developed myself, so no matter how I touched her, I wouldn't ejaculate; I just felt a painful swelling in my lower body. Looking back now, I feel really bad. Even now, seeing my cousin always makes me feel a little awkward.
In the summer of my second year of junior high, I had a huge scare. A new girl joined our class; she was more developed than us kids and very pretty. When I found out her house was right next to mine (meaning she had to walk the same route to and from school as me, through a dark alley), I got a wicked idea (I don't know why I was so lecherous back then). One evening after evening self-study, I followed her. When we got to the alley and no one was around, I grabbed her. She screamed, probably because she was terrified, but she didn't scream very loudly and struggled desperately to break free. Actually, I was terrified too. After grabbing her, I didn't know what to do. As soon as she broke free, I let go completely. She walked forward, took a few steps, and then ran. I stood there, completely stunned. It took me a long time to get home. I couldn't sleep all night, constantly worried that someone would come and get me. The next day, that female classmate stopped me and asked why I had done it. I sincerely told her to wait for me after evening self-study so I could explain. She probably thought I was up to something again, and before self-study that evening, she went to the homeroom teacher's house and reported me. When the homeroom teacher came to find me, I was terrified, thinking I was doomed. But the homeroom teacher only scolded me and that was it; he didn't take me to the principal or report me to the authorities. Anyway, I'm quite grateful to that homeroom teacher now; one thought from him could have ruined my life. A few days later, that female classmate transferred schools, which I think was probably related to what happened. Now, thinking back, I feel very sorry for her and want to apologize, but I can't find her anymore. Even if I did, I wouldn't know how to say those words of apology.
After that incident, I behaved myself for a long time, but by summer vacation, my heart was restless again. Once, I went to visit my grandparents. They lived in a dormitory building run by a work unit; those dormitories were very basic, and the bathrooms were shared. That evening, the company held a dance party. Most of the adults in the dormitory went, except for my grandparents, who went to bed early. I couldn't sleep, so I got up and went downstairs to play for a while. When I went back upstairs, I saw a girl carrying a bucket of water towards the bathroom. Knowing she was going to take a shower, I had an idea. After she went in, I followed her. I peeked at the bathroom door for a while, but it wasn't fully open. Perhaps the girl thought all the adults had gone to play and wasn't wary. I crept in. The girl was showering in a cubicle, and I could hear the running water. There was a smell in the bathroom, maybe from the girl, or maybe it was just the bathroom's usual odor. Anyway, I was incredibly nervous. The bathroom lights were off, and in the darkness, I saw the girl's underwear hanging on the wall. I grabbed a piece (it looked like underwear) and covered my face with it. Just as I was wondering what to do, the girl came out. When she saw someone, she froze. In the hazy light, a snow-white, naked body seemed to freeze in front of me. I was terrified too. This was the first time in my life I had faced a strange girl's body like this, and I was even more afraid that she would scream and someone would grab me. After a while (or maybe only a few seconds, I was so scared I lost track of time), she ran a few steps toward the bathroom door, making a sound that was both like crying and screaming, but the sound was very soft (I think this might be called loss of voice after extreme fright). I suddenly said to her, "Don't be afraid, I'm not a bad person (crashing into a girl's shower, not a bad person? Haha), I came here to tell you something..." She probably didn't hear what I was saying at all, and made the same sound a few more times. I said if she didn't want to listen, that was fine, I was leaving. Then I ran outside, and just as I reached the stairwell, I heard her screaming in the bathroom. I was so scared that I ran upstairs to my bedroom and lay down. Needless to say, that night was another night of fear. I never had anything like it again. Although my lustful desires remained, my courage was very small. I always scared myself to death. What was the point?
I truly matured sexually in my third year of junior high school, I mean physically. At the beginning of my third year, I started having nocturnal emissions. The junior high school textbooks had already covered this topic, although not in great detail, but enough to prevent me from being so ignorant as to think it was some kind of death sign. My mother brought this up with me once, probably trying to give me sex education. Out of embarrassment, I told her I already knew, and she didn't say anything more. My father was very busy with work then, often forgetting even how old I was, let alone caring about my nocturnal emissions.
The first time I ejaculated while conscious was near the end of my third year of junior high, which I feel rather guilty about. Before that, I had tried masturbation, but perhaps I wasn't doing it correctly, and I couldn't reach orgasm, so I often had strong desires and criminal impulses. That time, my cousin came to visit. During her afternoon nap, she slept on my bed while I did my homework at the table. My parents were also taking a nap. My cousin was in fourth grade at the time; although still very young, she had already grown quite a bit. While she was asleep, I secretly kissed her. Later, unable to suppress my impulse, I quietly climbed onto the bed and pinned her down, just like I did during the summer vacation after my first year of junior high. At first, I thought it was just a matter of satisfying my psychological needs, but as soon as I pressed down, a strange feeling came over me, and within seconds something flowed out, accompanied by a very comfortable feeling. I rushed to the bathroom and saw that my underwear was sticky with a lot of stuff; I knew it was semen. I can't quite describe how I felt at the time, but after ejaculating, I suddenly felt a strong sense of guilt about my indecent behavior towards my cousin. I wiped my underwear and didn't do anything wrong again.
A long time passed, and one night I was so aroused that I couldn't sleep. I rubbed my genitals under the covers in bed, and the pleasure grew stronger and stronger until I finally ejaculated. Later, I found that it felt better with my hand, and that's how I learned to masturbate. Since then, whenever I have the urge, I use masturbation to relieve it, and the criminal thoughts have basically disappeared. I should add that I've never felt that masturbation is a bad thing. Many friends experience a mix of pleasure and guilt when they first start masturbating, but I've never felt that way. For me, masturbation is a great outlet, and it doesn't do anything bad to my body. So I've never had any psychological burden. Even now, I have a fiancée, and I'm sexually satisfied, but I still masturbate frequently. Undeniably, masturbation offers a completely different kind of pleasure from intercourse. I think its advantage lies in the fact that you don't have to consider other people's feelings; everything is entirely under your own control.
By high school, I was actually more psychologically naive than in junior high, and I thought about those things much less often, probably thanks to masturbation. But it wasn't completely absent. I have a cousin who doted on me when I was little. She got married when I was in high school and came to visit one time, helping me with my studies. At that time, my cousin was newly married and not yet pregnant; her figure was quite perfect. She stood by my desk, her upper body leaning over it, and that posture was very moving to me. Later, when I masturbated, I used my cousin as my object of desire. I remember for a period of time, when I was about to climax during masturbation, the image of my mother would involuntarily enter my mind, which made me very uneasy. At that time, I couldn't openly imagine having sex with my mother like some online articles describe, and even now, I don't want to have such thoughts. Leaving aside the fact that my mother is a typical middle-aged housewife, not as alluring as the mothers described in some online articles, even if my mother were very beautiful and alluring, I still wouldn't have any improper thoughts. After all, a mother is a mother. A son can love his mother, but I can't agree with the kind of love described in some online articles. However, I'm quite at ease about imagining having sex with my cousin and doing bad things to my younger cousin, perhaps because we're not direct relatives. Some netizens might think I'm hypocritical; if I can have such fantasies about my cousin and do such things to my younger cousin, it's normal for me to have feelings for my own mother. But I believe I have my own bottom line: I will never have any immoral relationship with direct relatives, and I even try to avoid thinking
about my cousin. I remember later, when she was pregnant, she came to my house for a nap, and I secretly looked at her genitals. However, pregnant women don't hold any appeal for me. Some netizens think having sex with a pregnant woman is enjoyable; it's a matter of personal taste. That's understandable.
After graduating from high school, I joined the army. The three years in the military were very tough; everyone joked that even the mice in the barracks were male. Many people in society now believe that soldiers are all lustful. Having suffered greatly from this, I quite understand. However, although military life was tough, there were still military wives. In my barracks, the military wives weren't particularly beautiful, but a few were quite charming, and these wives became the talk of the town among the brothers. Military wives are just ordinary people; they also have desires and emotions. One of my fellow villagers was once seduced by a military wife, but luckily, he was as timid as I was and didn't dare to do anything reckless. I also had a somewhat ambiguous encounter. Once, I was on a business trip to Beijing, and the daughter of a high-ranking officer in the army happened to be visiting. She asked me to give her a ride. The train journey from the army base to Beijing took six or seven hours. During those six or seven hours, the girl and I talked more and more happily, and by the time we arrived in Beijing, she seemed to already consider me her boyfriend. That night we stayed in a guesthouse. The girl and I were in the next room. After we got into bed, she came to my room alone. We were intimate for a while. She was only sixteen years old and not very pretty. Plus, I was worried about future trouble, so I just kissed and hugged her without actually touching her. I just touched her breasts and such. The next day, I left on my own. When she called me, I pretended not to hear her. I felt like a bastard at the time. I was going through a rough patch and really wanted to be a bastard. But I didn't actually sleep with her. Maybe I wasn't quite a bastard enough.
In the army, my masturbation skills improved even more. I loved watching song and dance performances on TV while masturbating, especially when the female dancers were doing those swaying dances. If I was lucky enough to get a pornographic film, it was even more enjoyable. I only occasionally feel a little anxious about being a virgin all my life.
After being discharged from the army and returning to my hometown, I had several relationships, all of which ended in failure. Whether the other person liked me or I liked them, I never touched them. Actually, there was a girl who was an old classmate of mine. Although she wasn't pretty, she had a very attractive figure. However, we were good friends for several years before she told me she liked me, so I never had any romantic feelings for her and never thought about making a move on her. I only remembered her good figure later.
There was another girl who worked at a karaoke bar. We talked for a few days, and I had my first kiss with her. She was very skilled; one kiss could make me feel intoxicated. My current fiancée doesn't have her kissing skills. Maybe it was because it was my first kiss, so I imagined it to be too perfect.
A few times I was really lonely and went to karaoke bars, but the exchange of money and sex didn't really interest me. Every time I went, I would sit for a while, chat with the girls, and then come out without doing anything. One time, I stripped the prostitute's top off, revealing her beautiful breasts, and even pulled her pants down halfway, but we still didn't do anything. I always felt that such a transaction was utterly uninteresting.
Two years ago, I met my current fiancée. At the time, I didn't like her, but for some reason, she was incredibly infatuated with me. Sometimes I would threaten her, "If you don't leave, I'll sleep with you and then dump you," and she would just say whatever I wanted, which infuriated me. She was very resilient, silently and persistently liking me. Sometimes, when I was hurt by other girls, I would habitually talk to her. Looking back, this seems selfish, but at the time, for some reason, she was the first person I thought of when I was hurt. One time, I finally spent the night at her place and had my first time with her. Beforehand, I imagined sex to be wonderful, but in reality, it was just like that. At the time, I felt it was no different from eating or drinking. That was my first time and hers too. After that, some time passed, and I finally felt I was receiving too much of her affection, so I told her I wanted to be her boyfriend. At first, it was just a feeling of gratitude, but later I slowly fell in love with her. After falling in love with her, I truly experienced the joy of sex between two people. The first time I brought her to orgasm was amazing; I made her orgasm three times in just thirty minutes. After that, every time we made love, I could make her orgasm whenever I wanted. Sometimes we would talk about this. Actually, my penis isn't very big, just an average size. The reason I can satisfy her every time, I think, is due to technique and our coordination. Our positions and the frequency of movement were just right. After that, I came to the conclusion that a woman's pleasure during intercourse is not entirely determined by the size of the man's penis. It's like cooking a dish; you have these ingredients, it all depends on the cook's skill. Buddha Jumps Over the Wall can be delicious, and cabbage and tofu can be just as tasty if cooked well. But if the cook is bad, even with dragon claws and phoenix liver, you'll still end up with a pile of garbage. My fiancée is a bit conservative. She's made considerable progress after all this time of training, but it's still not enough. She can give me oral sex, but when I suggest licking her genitals or doing 69, she gets shy and refuses. However, I'm determined to marry her, and I have decades to teach her slowly, so I'm not in a rush. Speaking of which, I want to remind those who like wife-swapping games: don't bother contacting me. I wouldn't joke about a girl like my fiancée. My own thinking isn't that open either. This
is roughly my sexual history from childhood—very ordinary, but real. In reality, sexually (simply speaking), my fiancée doesn't satisfy me. So, to be honest, I'm also considering developing one or a few brothels where everyone can have some fun within the bounds of confidentiality and safety—it's harmless.

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