having an affair with the nanny

page views:1 Publication date:2023-06-11 11:35:53

Once, a colleague of mine was hospitalized. We were very close, so I brought a bag of fruit to the hospital. Fangfang happened to be on duty that day. After exchanging a few pleasantries with my colleague and sitting down by the bedside, she came in with a plate. She walked past me, smiled at my colleague lying on the bed, took his temperature, gave him a few words of advice, and then gracefully left.

Although I only had a fleeting glance at her, the impression she left on me was exceptionally good. Her figure was so elegant, her gait so light, and her smile and voice so sweet—she was like a girl straight out of Dai Wangshu's poem "Rainy Alley."

I thought to myself, judging by her age, she must have just graduated from nursing school and might not even have had a boyfriend yet. If that were the case, that would be wonderful. Because I didn't have a girlfriend either, and she was the girl of my dreams. Although I come from a rural background and Fangfang is a city girl, I'm a confident man and believed that with enough effort, I could win her over.

Just as I went to the hospital to implement my carefully planned romance scheme, coincidentally, another patient in my colleague's ward was discharged. So, the large ward was left with only my colleague and me, which undoubtedly gave me more freedom to approach Fangfang. On the first day, when Fangfang came to deliver her medicine, I casually struck up a conversation with her. She probably wasn't too busy, so she simply stood there and chatted with me. By

the afternoon, when Fangfang came to deliver her medicine, we were quite familiar with each other.

Spending several days in the hospital like this, Fangfang and I gradually became acquainted. On the day my colleague was discharged, I finally mustered the courage and, taking advantage of her last trip to deliver her medicine, secretly slipped her a letter. In the letter, I used beautiful language to subtly express my admiration for her and my hope to become friends with her.

A few days later, I received a letter from Fangfang. Her handwriting, like her, was small and delicate, exuding a shy purity. In her letter, she said she was surprised to receive my letter because we hadn't known each other well yet, and although she didn't have a boyfriend, she didn't dare to make any promises to me hastily, as marriage is a big deal for a girl. However, in the few days we'd known each other, her first impression of me was quite good, so she felt that as long as I was sincere, she could consider dating me as just friends…

I read this letter, which exuded a faint fragrance, over and over again, pondering her thoughts word by word, and finally decided to take bold action. I ran to the flower shop and bought a large bouquet of flowers, waiting early on her daily commute. After about half an hour, I saw her wearing a red trench coat riding a silver bicycle towards me. When the bicycle was about ten meters away, she saw me, dismounted, and greeted me.

She was a cheerful girl, and quickly accepted my flowers. Soon after, I invited her to dinner again, and she readily agreed. From then on, I would ask her out every few days—either for dinner, a movie, or shopping at the mall or park.

Through these frequent interactions, we gradually got to know each other better, and when I felt she was increasingly impressed with me, I boldly proposed. She accepted, and six months later, she became my wife.

Fangfang was a pure girl. After our marriage, she confessed to me that before meeting me, she had only had one romantic relationship. It was when she was studying at nursing school. Back then, every afternoon after school, a group of boys would wait for them to come out and then shamelessly approach them to talk. Later, the most handsome of these boys became her boyfriend.

However, they only dated for less than a month. One evening, while walking in the park with her mother, she saw this boy walking past her with another girl, their arms around each other intimately. So, she broke up with him. From then on, she dared not easily trust men again, until she met me.

At this point, I joked with her, "Then how did you trust me so easily?" Fangfang said, "The first time I saw you, I felt you were a trustworthy man, so I was bewitched and got on your 'thief's ship'." I teased her, "What do you mean by 'got on a 'thief's ship'? Am I a thief?" She said, "Aren't you a thief?" I said, "What did I steal from you?" She said shyly, "You stole my heart!"

I could feel that Fangfang loved me very much; after we got married, she gave me her whole heart. She's a rather traditional woman, very virtuous, and never lets me do any housework. She says these aren't things men do, and she can do them all herself. Every day when I come home from work, I can have a hot meal waiting for me. Her cooking is delicious, and I can clearly feel that my appetite has increased significantly since we got married. I'm even worried that I'll gain weight.

After dinner, I sit on the sofa reading the newspaper while she washes the pots and pans. After she finishes all that, she snuggles into my arms like a kitten and watches TV with me.

She always went along with me. In everything at home, big or small, she listened to me, so obedient that I wanted to devour her whole. In our sex life, although she initially played a passive role, with my guidance, she quickly became more cooperative.

Our sex life was frequent and harmonious. Our loving world was truly paradise! This is something few men who have never been married or experienced love can truly understand.

I was completely infatuated with her; for a long time after our marriage, I could still feel that intoxicating feeling of being in love. During that time, my mind was filled with nothing but her—her gentleness, her thoughtfulness, her alluring body.

Even at work, I would often think of her. Just thinking of her, no matter how tired I was, made me feel relaxed, and I could work quickly and efficiently. I worked as a secretary, and during that period, my boss always praised my writing, saying it was more eloquent than before. I was very proud of this praise and felt that the credit should go to my wife.

After work, I would rush home without a moment's delay. If I were riding a bicycle, I would pedal incredibly fast; if I were taking the bus, I would secretly pray there wouldn't be any traffic. I had to see my wife as soon as possible. I wanted to see her properly, hold her, kiss her, and if she was willing, I also wanted to make love to her before she cooked dinner.

The honeymoon period was the most radiant time of my life. I was incredibly energetic, my libido was exceptionally strong, and life became so colorful and vibrant because of sex. I was as happy as if I were dreaming.

However, due to prolonged indulgence, my physical condition began to decline, my cheeks became thin, and my eyes became sunken, giving me the appearance of someone who had overindulged in sex. Seeing this, my colleagues said, half-jokingly and half-seriously: "Hey, buddy, if you pump too much groundwater, the ground will sink, and the building will collapse. How can you not recharge it?" My colleagues' jokes hit me like a warning bell, making me blush. It wasn't that I didn't understand the principle, but in reality, I often couldn't control my will and behavior. The wonder of sex made me unable to stop.

No matter what, my efforts paid off; my wife finally got pregnant! I was overjoyed. Without my hard work, we wouldn't have this harvest today. For

the first and last three months of her pregnancy, my wife resolutely refused to let me touch her.

For the sake of the baby, I had to grit my teeth and endure it. Whenever she saw me suffering, my wife would comfort me, saying she would make it up to me after the baby was born.

My wife never kept a diary before, but since becoming pregnant, she has been keeping a daily pregnancy diary. She meticulously recorded every move of the little one in her belly, down to the smallest detail. She noted when the baby kicked her, when the mischievous little one rolled around in her belly—everything.

Once, after reading her diary, I joked with her, "Honey, are you writing all this so you can settle accounts with the baby later? How many times has he/she kicked you so far?" After he is born, will we kick him so many times, or do somersaults on his belly?

It was meant as a joke, but it unexpectedly angered my wife. She said coldly, "Look at you! Do you act like a father? Talking to the child like that! You have no respect for your elders! How will you set a good example for the child in the future?"

Since becoming pregnant, my wife's temper has suddenly worsened. Before, she would never get angry, no matter what happened. Now, even a casual joke will inexplicably make her angry at me. At first, I didn't understand why, but later I specifically looked into it and learned that almost all women experience inexplicable anger during pregnancy; it's a normal physiological reaction.

I started to be more considerate of my wife, being careful not to say the wrong thing, because her anger could affect the baby's development! Now that we can only have one child, everyone is very particular about eugenics, and as the father, I should handle these things well!

Before deciding to get pregnant, my wife often told me that she really wanted a girl. I didn't care whether it was a boy or a girl. Since my wife wanted a daughter so badly, I hoped our child would be a daughter too. Nine months later, my wife's wish came true, and she gave birth to a daughter.

The little one was so adorable; her every smile, every gesture, quickly captured my wife's heart. In the babbling of her daughter, my wife felt as if she had returned to her childhood. She expressed her maternal love to the fullest, and whenever she spoke, it was always about her daughter. From then on, she had no time or inclination to care about me. She ignored my sexual advances.

Her reasons seemed quite reasonable: our daughter was sleeping right next to us; what if we got carried away with lovemaking and neglected her, accidentally crushing her? Besides, our daughter was still so young and needed her mother's care at all times. If we were only focused on lovemaking and neglected our daughter, would we be considered responsible parents?

To make me take her words seriously, she told me about a tragedy. She said a colleague's friend's son, when he was three months old, had his nose covered by a blanket, and by the time the parents found out, the baby had suffocated to death.

"They must have forgotten about the baby next to them while they were having sex, and that's how the baby suffocated to death. Maybe they even rolled over and crushed him! They finally had a son, and he died like that. Can you imagine how much they regret it!" my wife speculated.

I didn't blame my wife, even though she used various reasons to refuse to have sex with me. I know that some women experience sexual dysfunctions like "frigidity" after childbirth. The typical symptom is that they pour all their love into their child and feel that sex is a burden, or even something they abhor.

Actually, the matter is far more complex than my wife's worry about "crushing the baby." There are deeper reasons: due to the influence of thousands of years of feudal ideology, most Chinese people are hesitant to talk about sex, especially women, whose sexual desires are suppressed. They feel that actively expressing sexual needs is considered "improper" or "adulterous." Correspondingly, they view sex in marriage merely as something necessary for procreation and childbearing. This distorted view of sex distances them from sexual pleasure and enjoyment, creating a de facto separation between sex and love.

My wife never wanted to admit this; her excuses always revolved around the children. For example, she was afraid my snoring would disturb the children's sleep, and later she even asked me to move to the next room to sleep. For the sake of the children's healthy growth, although I didn't want to sleep separately from my wife, I had no choice but to do so. After sleeping separately, our sex life became even less frequent.

My wife had cultivated herself into a great mother without any desire for sex; apart from our daughter, she had no interest in anything else. Since we separated, she had never proactively expressed her desire for me. Even when she occasionally agreed to sleep with me after my pleading, she did it perfunctorily, leaving me completely uninterested.

A few times, I managed to lure her into my bedroom while the children were sleeping. As soon as I entered her, she pushed me away, panicking as if her house was on fire, yelling, "No, no! What if Nuannuan (our daughter's nickname) wakes up? I have to go check on her!" Ignoring my feelings, she dressed and ran out of my bedroom.

After this happened a few times, I lost interest in sex. When I felt sexual desire, I had to suppress it, and if I couldn't hold back, I would masturbate. I'm only 30 years old, and my wife is 26. We're both supposedly at a stage where our physiological needs are relatively normal, but we've almost never had sex. It's unbelievable and frightening to think about.

Modern marriage should be a harmonious unity of sex and love. A harmonious sex life not only deepens the love between husband and wife but also contributes to their physical and mental health. Although I feel the reduced frequency of our sex life has affected our relationship, we've been married for several years and can't live without each other. While the romantic element may have weakened, we have developed an inseparable bond of kinship.

After giving birth, besides losing interest in sex, another change in my wife was that she brazenly transformed herself into a lazy, unkempt woman.

When we first got married, her greatest hobbies were housework and dressing up. While her clothes weren't designer brands, she was a woman of great taste. She knew how to choose clothes that suited her figure and how to coordinate colors. She could talk about colors and styles in great detail, though I couldn't understand a word she said. In short, the clothes she chose seemed tailor-made for her; everything she wore looked perfect.

But after having a child, all these good traditions vanished. Now she only likes to wear baggy pajamas and won't even bother changing them before going out. Her reason is that she's too busy with the baby to worry about these trivial matters. Besides, now that she has a child and has become a haggard housewife, who cares about her appearance? Seeing her downstairs chatting with the neighbors, her face unwashed and hair uncombed, wearing only her pajamas and holding her daughter, I felt ashamed for her.

I like women who dress smartly and appropriately, but my wife is increasingly disappointing me. I couldn't help but remind her, "Could you please not go out in your pajamas anymore?" My reminder angered her, and she accused me of being a meddlesome little man. Seeing her angry, I wanted to tease her, so I joked, "Men all like beautiful, well-dressed women. Aren't you worried I'll be seduced by other women?"

To my surprise, my wife just snorted arrogantly and continued doing as she pleased. She firmly believes that she has already "captured" me with her beauty, so she can comfortably live the life of a lazy, haggard housewife. If I betrayed her, it would only prove I'm a philanderer, and is such a man worth cherishing? Although I'm not the kind of man who's fickle, I always feel a pang of loss when I see beautiful women on the street, and sometimes I even have inappropriate thoughts.

Women like my wife are not uncommon in our lives, especially after they give birth. At this time, women often experience two psychological states: First, a "safe haven" mentality, believing the "revolution" has been successful and they can relax, so they dress casually and no longer pay attention to their appearance. Second, a sense of complacency arises, meaning they no longer "strictly demand of themselves," becoming careless and complacent.

Everyone loves beauty, but my wife is no longer interested in beauty or ugliness; her only focus is on her daughter. Not only that, she also becomes careless about housework. The once spotless house now resembles a doghouse, dusty everywhere, and covered in dirty clothes.

Every day, if she's supposed to go to work at 8:30, she can't get up until 8:10, grabs whatever clothes she can find, rushes to the bathroom to quickly tidy herself up, slips on yesterday's dirty shoes, and hurriedly leaves. After get off work, she no longer thinks about what to cook. She always makes scrambled eggs with tomatoes, or stir-fried carrots with meat, or a plate of smashed cucumber or boiled peanuts.

I've reminded her many times that we're living a normal life, and our diets need to be nutritionally balanced and properly prepared. How can we just make do like this? After hearing this, she either sulks or simply ignores me. If I accidentally offend her, she'll grab our daughter and run back to her parents' home without a word, insisting I visit her three times over, otherwise she resolutely refuses to go home.

Sigh, why are all women the same after marriage? They're really not to be trifled with!

"Liu Ren and his wife, Ma Zhuo, hadn't made love in a long time. Although before marriage, Liu Ren had pursued the beautiful poet Ma Zhuo so passionately, soon after their marriage, he hardly touched her anymore. Once, after seeing a sexy woman on the street, Liu Ren ran home and, without a word, pinned Ma Zhuo down on the sofa and made love to her—a long-awaited act."

This scene takes place in the novel *Ma Zhuo's Love* by the writer Bei Cun. Actually, before reading this novel, something similar had happened between my wife and me. Later, by chance, I read this novel and realized that what had happened to me had actually happened to someone else long ago.

One weekend, after lunch, I was bored, so I took a pack of cigarettes and went out (my wife doesn't allow me to smoke at home; she says it will affect our daughter's health, so I usually smoke downstairs). Downstairs, I smoked while looking around for a place to play chess.

Reaching a large tree by the roadside, I saw two old men sitting on small stools playing chess. I stood beside them for a while, offering a few suggestions to one of the men who was playing terribly. Just as he was about to turn the tide under my guidance, at that crucial moment, I suddenly heard someone asking for directions. It was a sweet female voice. I couldn't help but look up, and standing before me was a graceful, fashionable young woman.

She was probably around 20 years old, very tall, and because she was wearing a miniskirt, I could see her legs were very white, as white as jade. The girl had long, flowing hair and a face somewhat resembling the movie star Zhang Ziyi, but her eyes were large, somewhat like Zhao Wei's. Even more alluring were her full breasts, which made her clothes look short.

I was stunned for a moment, then, regaining my composure, enthusiastically told her the direction I wanted to go. The girl smiled and thanked me, then swayed away, leaving a delicate fragrance behind. Watching her graceful figure disappear, my heart warmed, and an uncontrollable urge surged through my body. I abandoned the two old men, who were now in a frenzy, and hurried home.

Back home, my wife was taking a shower. Hearing the rushing water from the bathroom, my desire intensified. I shamelessly squeezed into the bathroom… Soon, we were both naked and entwined. Hearing her soft moans, I was so excited I felt like my blood vessels were about to burst. In the bathroom mirror, I saw her eyes slightly closed, her face flushed with a youthful blush; she was absolutely beautiful.

This was the first time my wife and I had an orgasm since our daughter was born. However, to my dismay, that passionate feeling has never returned. Although we still have sex occasionally every month or two, every time I look at my wife's naked body, at that familiar yet bland skin, I can no longer find that same impulsive feeling I had that day in the bathroom. Gradually, I began to dislike, even feel a bit disgusted, about our intimate moments. I suspect there's something wrong with my sexual function.

Faced with the sexless state of our marriage, my wife has always seemed indifferent. She once told me seriously that even if she never had sex again, she wouldn't think about it. She argued that since having the child, she'd almost forgotten about it; she's busy with work and housework, life is already mundane enough, who has the energy to think about such things?

I truly admire my wife's level of understanding; she's probably reached a state of enlightenment! However, as a man, I am indeed less "skilled" than a woman. Still plagued by sexual urges, I, with my impure desires, frequently find myself reverting to my pre-marital masturbation habit.

Sex, a topic usually shrouded in secrecy, is surprisingly viewed with detachment. On one hand, there's a lack of sex within marriage; on the other, extramarital affairs, keeping mistresses, and online relationships are rampant. While I haven't yet fallen to the point of extramarital affairs (which, in my opinion, is quite troublesome), keeping a mistress (I'm a wage earner, and even if I wanted to, I couldn't afford it), or online relationships (online relationships shouldn't be taken seriously), isn't my current state of constant alcohol-induced numbing also a form of decadence?

Shortly after our child was born, we sent her to her parents' home to be cared for by her mother. However, a year later, her mother fell ill and couldn't care for the child. My father-in-law, doting on his daughter, hired a nanny for us.

She was a young woman of about eighteen, not very tall, but quite pretty, and most importantly, diligent and sensible. My wife was very satisfied and decided to keep her on long-term to take care of the housework. This young nanny was an excellent cook and knew how to cater to both my wife's and my tastes, which I thought was quite good.

Because my wife and I didn't have a good relationship, she often went shopping with her colleagues after work and rarely came home before 8 or 9 pm. She also had a habit of calling the nanny before going home to tell her approximately what time she would arrive and ask her to prepare dinner for her. I knew that the dinner itself was secondary; the main reason was her spoiled, demanding nature—wanting to order people around and show off her power.

So, I would go home first after work, and out of boredom, the nanny and I would often chat. But inexplicably, over time, a slight romance developed between us.

We initially started by chatting while preparing vegetables in the kitchen, gradually developing a relationship; we both felt a sense of loneliness. She had been working alone in Hefei for several years, earning little money and struggling to make ends meet, yet she didn't want to go home. This left her deeply troubled, seeing neither a future nor any hope.

She had grown accustomed to city life, seeing urban couples arguing and falling in love, making it difficult for her to accept the unchanging marriage patterns and lifestyles of the countryside. Yet, she couldn't be loved by an urban man, leaving her feeling utterly bitter and desolate. Once she shared my feelings, she naturally poured out her years of pent-up frustrations to me, including her deep longing for a relationship.

Our relationship developed naturally in this context. Facing the innocent young nanny, I openly shared my marital struggles and anxieties. She was visibly surprised, having never known I harbored so much hidden bitterness. To be honest, after living in Hefei for so many years, this is the first time I've spoken so freely with a woman, pouring out my long-suppressed frustrations and feelings about marriage. This was unimaginable in the past, because subconsciously I would have placed myself above the nanny.

Whether in my school days or shortly after marriage, I subconsciously felt it impossible to approach someone uncultured, like a withered leaf drifting in the wind, let alone discuss the meaning of life or other philosophical questions with her.

For the past ten years, I've subconsciously tried to escape my past, hoping to break free from its shadows and constraints. I even considered being a farmer's son a shameful trait, and I always tried to see myself as a true city dweller.

But only today did I realize that a person cannot change their background or the many things ingrained in their blood. For example, my nanny and I actually have a natural attraction to each other. At least we can appreciate and comfort each other, talk about anything and often laugh happily together—something I've never experienced with my wife.

In any case, when I'm with my nanny, I feel a joy and happiness I've never experienced since moving to the city. We even compete to talk, and it seems like we can never have enough to say. We care about each other—for example, my nanny often cooks a few of her best dishes just for me, and I often bring her small gifts to make her happy.

Her younger brother was in high school, and the family was poor, so I gave her 2,000 yuan, which I had saved up through frugality, as her brother's tuition and fees. Of course, I didn't give her the money to support her or anything like that; she never thought of it that way. I just gave her money out of love, help, and even sympathy. Besides, 2,000 yuan wasn't a large sum.

Our happiest times were when my wife wasn't home, but when she was, we had to pretend we didn't talk to each other. My wife probably never imagined anything would happen between us, because the distance between a college student and an ordinary nanny seemed vast.

But she forgot, or at least ignored, the most important connection between us: we both came from farming backgrounds. This was the main reason she didn't initially suspect me or remain wary; matters between men and women are often complicated.

Finally, she discovered our affair. It started because I always used condoms when I was with the nanny, since she wasn't married yet, and if something happened, it would be terrible.

My wife and I rarely have sex. She gets the condoms from the hospital, and my nanny and I just use them from the box she brings back as a backup, without replenishing them afterwards. One day, while cleaning out a drawer, she noticed several condoms were missing. She became suspicious and set a trap, revealing my affair with the nanny. One

weekend, she called to say she wouldn't be home that night. I thought she really wasn't coming back, so the nanny and I happily had sex. Luckily, we couldn't resist and did it beforehand, otherwise, things would have been much worse. Around 8 pm, my wife suddenly returned. She

usually knocks first, but this time she just opened the door with her key. The nanny and I were sitting in the living room, talking and watching TV, but she casually sat on my lap; we weren't prepared at all.

Just then, my wife suddenly burst in. Luckily, I heard the door open and quickly pushed the maid off my lap. Then, pretending nothing had happened, I stood up to greet her. But my wife, with a woman's intuition, sensed something was amiss. She first told the maid to go back to her room, then asked why the blankets on my bed were so messy. I said I had been lying down reading for a while.

She looked at me suspiciously for a moment, then went to open the drawer and opened a box of condoms. Oh, my heart almost stopped. I wasn't prepared for this at all, so when she questioned me about the missing condom, I was speechless. Then she bluntly asked me, "Did you do 'that' with the maid? How many times did you do it?"

I was still hoping to get away with it, but she wouldn't let it go. She said, "Look, you've almost emptied these two boxes of condoms, and you still won't admit it." Then she went berserk, dragging the nanny out of the inner room and tearing at her while trying to force her to confess. But the nanny refused to admit anything. At this point, my wife calmed down and said stoically, "Fine, since you won't talk, I'll find the evidence to show you."

I didn't know what evidence she was looking for, but she went into the kitchen, and not knowing what she was up to, I followed her. Good heavens, she was rummaging through the plastic bag that held the trash! My heart clenched again. How did she know I had thrown away the used condoms there?

Suddenly, she turned hostile and said, "You shameless country bumpkin, you've been having an affair with this stinking nanny, and you still won't admit it! If you don't confess today, I'll tell everyone at your workplace that you've been having an affair with our nanny!"

At this point, I had no choice but to confess. My wife immediately rushed at me like a madwoman and slapped me across the face, then grabbed a spatula and chased after me, hitting me repeatedly. The nanny, sensing things were going badly, had already taken the opportunity to sneak out with her belongings. But I couldn't escape; I could only hold my head and let her vent her anger. You see, I still have a scar on my neck.

Sigh, neither of us slept that night. She kept crying and asking me why, why I would have an affair with a nanny. She was ashamed of my actions, saying, "If you had a relationship with a cultured, sophisticated, and beautiful woman, I wouldn't have anything to say. How could you be so despicable? What kind of person is that nanny?"

Since my affair with the nanny was exposed, my relationship with my wife has become strained. Now, I'm increasingly afraid to go home. After work, I like to meet up with some close friends at a small bar, enjoying a few dishes, drinking, and engaging in lively discussions. I've started to enjoy this hedonistic lifestyle, forgetting time, space, and myself in my drunken stupor, and even forgetting that my wife and daughter are waiting for me at home.

I used to be known as a family man at work, but what happened to me? I don't know what's wrong with me. I just know I've changed. I've become irritable, depressed, and easily angered by everything.

Actually, it's not just me who's changed; my once gentle wife has changed too. She's no longer gentle and lovely; she's become a very strong woman, a woman I don't recognize. I know it's all because of our long-term lack of sexual intimacy.

We've both become unwilling to compromise. We argue endlessly over trivial matters, and then the arguments escalate to physical fights. Once, in a fit of anger, I twisted her arm, and she scratched my face until it bled. I was too afraid to leave the house for days and had to call work, lying that I was sick and couldn't come to work. The tenderness and affection at the beginning of our marriage have turned into irreconcilable conflict. Our marriage has become unstable, constantly in danger of falling apart.

In my free time, I often go online. I recently saw a news article online about a woman's sexless marriage. She's my favorite female singer, so I paid special attention to her marriage.

In 1984, a male director met her while filming a movie. Under his ardent pursuit, she fell in love. A year later, they married. However, immersed in romance and happiness, she didn't realize that this marriage seemed to foreshadow crisis and unhappiness from the very beginning. At the time of their marriage

, the director proposed the idea of a "sexless marriage," telling her: "We should maintain a Platonic relationship, without letting this love be tainted by any impurities, without any desecration or constraint. Because both of our careers need development, we should put all our energy into our work..." Perhaps she was too infatuated and too persistent in love, or perhaps women in love are prone to being oblivious, but she actually agreed to a sexless marriage. They lived in the same room but slept in separate beds; they were husband and wife in name only, without the reality.

After their marriage, the female singer continued to sing love songs. The male director became a key figure in the "Taiwan New Cinema" movement. Several of his films won international awards. Each of his films reflected the female singer's selfless dedication.

During this time, rumors of the male director's infidelity surfaced. The female singer neither believed nor wanted to believe them. Their "sexless marriage" quietly eroded their 10 years. Finally, the male director confessed to the female singer: he was having an affair. The seemingly loving couple's relationship collapsed, leaving the female singer feeling utterly devastated.

The male director concluded their marriage: "10 years of relationship, a complete blank." The female singer, who had hoped to maintain their marriage through love, received only divorce papers in return for all her efforts.

The female singer and male director were celebrities, and because of their fame, their sexless marriage attracted more attention, while the sexless marriages of ordinary people are mostly hidden in the shadows. Recent reports indicate a significant increase in divorce cases in cities such as Beijing, Xi'an, Wuhan, and Shenyang. When judges ask couples why they want to divorce during mediation, over 70% of them give only one answer: "Incompatibility."

Although these divorcees didn't elaborate on the reasons for their incompatibility, marriage experts believe that the phrase "incompatibility" contains many unspoken subtexts, the most important of which is "incompatible sex life," inevitably leading to "sexless marriage" and "sexless marriage." Consequently, some have sensationally suggested that Chinese society has entered an era of "sexless marriage."

Undoubtedly, sex is a pleasurable, enjoyable process; while not a panacea for life's troubles, it is a wellspring of happiness. However, for various reasons, we often find it difficult to enjoy this "wellspring" of marriage, instead treating this precious gift as a bitter cup.

A survey shows that the average Chinese person has only 69 sexual encounters per year, compared to over 100 in Western countries. Currently, men over 45 have sex less than once a month, a situation some call "sexually unemployed"; while men over 55 average less than once a year, a situation some call "sexually laid off." The more men who are "laid off" or "unemployed," the more sexless marriages there will be.

I'm currently in that "laid-off" state. I've thought about divorce countless times, wanting to build a completely new life like a phoenix reborn. But every time I see my daughter's adorable face, every time I see my wife's innocent eyes, all my thoughts crumble.

A sexless marriage is painful, but it can never be more painful than a child living in a single-parent family. I endlessly suppress myself, hoping to exchange this suppression for the superficial integrity of my family and the carefree innocence of my child's childhood.

A life without sex is tragic. A normal man, even if offered millions to become a eunuch, would certainly not agree, because his life would lose its meaning. Sex is a sign of health. Former US President George H.W. Bush declared in his campaign speeches that he was still having sex at 70. I'm only 35 now, with a long road ahead of me to 70. But what frustrates me is that I've prematurely ended my sexual happiness. The idea that one can still have sex at 70 is a grand declaration by George H.W. Bush, but it's something I can only dream of.

URL 1:https://www.sexlove5.com/htmlBlog/27488.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=27488&aspx=1

Last access time:

Previous Page : Dream Diary

Next Page : Weekend Diary