A promiscuous mature woman's self-narration

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

The moonlight streamed softly into the room, where the man on the bed slept soundly, accompanied by gentle snores. In the bathroom outside the bedroom, a mature woman, nearing forty, had one hand on the wall, the other reaching behind her large, rounded buttocks, slowly lifting her nightgown to reveal a full, crescent-shaped curve. Her nimble fingers, as if deliberately teasing, caressed the still-soft flesh of her buttocks with a strange rhythm, slowly parting her thighs. She had already removed her underwear, and now her buttocks were glistening with a lascivious moisture, even her wrinkled anus reflecting a captivating sheen.

The mature woman's fingers probed into the purplish-black crevice, inserting slightly, letting out a soft moan. She turned her head to look at the phone screen on the sink behind her, and with a wanton expression, she took the finger she had just withdrawn from her crotch into her bright red lips, her small tongue slightly protruding. A lewd smile crept across her flushed face, her eyes gleaming with a strange light as she scanned the increasingly thick penis on the phone screen. A hunger surged from the depths of her being, causing her to involuntarily swallow the small amount of her own semen that had seeped into her mouth.

My name is Wu Yuehua, the slut who just now swallowed her own juices while watching a man's large penis. Just a few months ago, I was a gentle and virtuous wife, with a loving husband and a lively, adorable daughter.

Years ago, my husband, Wang Hai, and I worked in the same factory. Although the work was tiring, it was fulfilling. Later, our daughter was born, and my mother-in-law, being traditional, couldn't hold her grandson. This was hard for them to accept, and they gradually became more sarcastic and cold towards me. Fortunately, my husband cherished me, and my daughter, once she grew up, was very well-behaved, which made me feel like a happy woman. Unfortunately, with the arrival of the financial crisis, the factory couldn't withstand the pressure and went bankrupt, forcing my husband and me to lose our jobs. Originally, we planned to go to work further away, but because of my in-laws' disapproval, I wasn't comfortable leaving my daughter with them. So, with the help of friends, my husband and I opened a farmhouse inn in a fairly scenic spot on the outskirts of the city.

My husband, Wang Hai, came from a poor background, which shaped his hardworking and reliable character. Through his efforts, our farmhouse inn had its own orchard and pond, allowing us to not only cater to tourists but also sell some fruit and fish. Our lives gradually became more prosperous. This should have been a happy thing, but when I was thirty-six, Wang Hai injured his back in the orchard. After treatment, although his physical mobility returned to normal, he lost his former vigor in our sex life. His movements became much smaller, and his stamina was much lower than before.

Before, I always thought I wasn't a woman who craved sex; even in bed, I mostly cooperated with my husband to satisfy his desires, as a reward for his efforts. But as the days went by, and with each hasty ending, I gradually realized how absurd my original thinking was. Or rather, it was my husband's former strength that masked my own inner desires and pursuits.

People say that at thirty one is like a wolf, at forty a tiger, but I never believed it. I even thought that with age and declining vitality, libido should decrease. But now I have to believe it; reality has ruthlessly exposed my hypocritical thoughts. The agonizing itching and emptiness in my groin often remind me suddenly that I am a woman, a woman who longs to be penetrated and loved by a man. And my husband can no longer provide all of this. Every time he guiltily pulls his already weak penis out of my vagina, I have to carefully feign satisfaction to comfort him. Then, after he falls asleep, I frantically rub my thick pubic hair, rapidly inserting and withdrawing my fingers into the vagina that should be soothed and conquered by a strong man.

Yes, I've started masturbating, and more and more frequently. Besides a stable life, my husband has also brought me increasingly better health. A mature woman's body often signifies her readiness to accept penetration and her desire for the pleasure derived from a thick, powerful penis. Since Wang Hai could no longer provide these, I had to satisfy myself. However, behind each orgasm from masturbation lay an even more unbearable emptiness.

I felt guilty towards my husband, especially during my first few masturbations; I felt it was a betrayal, a desecration of our love. Especially since my current life is largely thanks to him. Yet, the stability he provided led me to have wild thoughts, and several times during masturbation, I imagined other men—former colleagues, tourists visiting the place. I imagined them forcefully penetrating my vagina with penises harder than my husband's, violently thrusting to make me moan with orgasm, and shamelessly leaving marks inside my vagina. These lewd thoughts made me feel like a despicable woman, a shameless slut who didn't appreciate the good life her husband provided, didn't know how to be grateful for his gifts, and instead constantly cuckolded him in her mind.

Strangely, the more I perceived myself as base, the more intense my latent desires became. Often, in the dead of night, they burned like a dark flame against my genitals, my nipples, and every other sensitive spot on my body. At these times, I had to curl up, clench my teeth, afraid to let out even a low growl—the desperate howl of a female animal in heat, yearning for mating. I knew that if this continued, one day I wouldn't be able to resist letting other men climb on me, experiencing a passion my husband might never have felt. So I began to avoid crowds as much as possible, finding various excuses to hide in the kitchen or upstairs, only venturing out for fresh air when there were few people around. My husband was oblivious; for a long time, he didn't notice my change. Later, he asked me once, and I simply said I was tired of entertaining guests. Wang Hai was very considerate; he indulged my whims just like when we were newlyweds. Besides, we had now hired some villagers to help, and he was happy to let me enjoy the leisure and comfort he provided—a reward for his efforts. The kind-hearted husband was unaware of the sordid and dark thoughts lurking in his wife's heart.

Originally, I thought that if things continued like this for a few more years, perhaps I would gradually calm down, or perhaps I was simply unaccustomed to the decline in my husband's sexual prowess. But on that day, my already fragile defenses finally crumbled completely in front of a man. I remember it was a weekend. Because it had been particularly hot those days, there weren't many guests, only a few college students and two middle-aged couples. In the evening, my already restless heart was further agitated by the heat, so I'd been going for walks around this time every day to clear my head.

As I mentioned before, my husband had built a fishpond, and the steam from the water, combined with the surrounding shade, made it very cool on the hot evening. This was one of my favorite places to stroll. Today, as usual, I went to that crooked tree. My husband knew I liked to go there, so he made a large stone for me to rest and cool off. I had just sat down when I heard some noise in the fishpond. Although there hadn't been any fish theft yet, as the lady of the house, I still felt I should take a look. But as soon as I peeked out from under the trees, a naked male torso suddenly appeared in my line of sight.

My heart skipped a beat. The body was so young, radiating health and vitality in the afterglow of the setting sun. His chest muscles were full and firm, and although only half of his abdomen was exposed, its alluring lines were already visible. I felt my breathing quicken instantly, one hand unconsciously covering my full breasts, my mouth dry, like the fish in the pond, desperately wanting to swallow something.

I knew I shouldn't continue looking, but I couldn't turn my head away. For a woman like me, long deprived of sex, that young, naked male body was like the most potent aphrodisiac, making me dizzy and disoriented. A warm sensation between my legs sent a wave of weakness through me, and I collapsed, dazed and confused. To my shame, even as I fell, my gaze remained fixed on the man.

Startled, the man looked up briefly before quickly swimming ashore. He strode over, wearing only a pair of soaking wet underwear. With each step, his clinging underwear completely outlined his genitals before my eyes. That bulging mound proclaimed his maturity and strength, swaying slightly with his movements, a sway that sent a tingling sensation through my heart.

"That brat, why didn't he put on some clothes first!" I cursed inwardly, feigning ignorance, while greedily watching the approaching figure. The wet, hot sensation between my buttocks grew stronger. If I hadn't vaguely remembered that I was a married woman, a woman loved by her husband, I think I would have been unable to resist turning around and sticking my plump buttocks up high towards the approaching man, shamelessly lifting my skirt and using the most thirsty moans to tempt him to stuff that thing hidden in his underwear into my body. Unfortunately, I couldn't. I couldn't be that despicable. However, while I was lost in these thoughts, I forgot to avoid looking at him, causing the man to hesitate for a moment as he squatted down, then suddenly seem to understand something and reveal a playful smile.

"Boss lady, what's wrong?" The young, deep male voice brought me back to my senses. To cover up my shame, I could only lie and say I wasn't feeling well. Now I could see who he was—one of the college students who came here to have fun today. To avoid succumbing to physical urges, I've reduced my contact with these clients. However, I still remember him. While not particularly handsome, he was tall and strong, standing out among the students. I remember his name: Zhang Qiang. In the days that followed, that name was almost etched into my bones, or rather, it completely filled my desires.

However, Zhang Qiang himself probably wasn't sure at the time, or perhaps he intended to gradually lure me into his desires. So he didn't make any unnecessary moves, instead showing concern while simultaneously displaying his masculine strength. Without allowing me to refuse, he picked me up. To be honest, I'm not light, especially now that life is better, I'm quite plump. Yet his arms were so strong, his expression so resolute and unyielding. And so, I, a woman nearing forty, was carried in the most romantic princess carry by a young man almost twenty years my junior, all the way to the love nest my husband and I had painstakingly built.

[The End]

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A promiscuous mature woman's self-narration

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