The Last Two Days and Nights of My Sexual Encounters with a Young Woman in Yunnan (Part 2: Romantic Hunter)

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The Last Two Days and Nights of My Sexual Encounters with a Young Woman in Yunnan
[Part 2]
(15780 words)
As we were about to leave Yunnan and return home, our feelings were conflicted.
On one hand, we were eager to go home, after all, we had been away for half a month. Who doesn't have family and friends? There's no place like home; who doesn't love their homeland? Even the most beautiful garden can't hold a place you'll stay long. I was somewhat better off, but the young woman missed her child. Her child was the apple of her eye, her eternal concern. Traveling allows us to appreciate the scenery of other places, but it also strengthens our love for home. No matter how beautiful or lively the scenery is, it belongs to someone else. You can't take Jade Dragon Snow Mountain or the rainforest with you. Hotels, airplanes, buses—temporary luxury is only a temporary enjoyment for ordinary people like us; it can't last forever. Home is best, but travel is always difficult.
On the other hand, we were reluctant to leave, after all, the beauty of Yunnan made us linger. Dianchi Lake, Stone Forest, Jiuxiang Caves, Erhai Lake, Cangshan Mountain, Butterfly Spring, Lijiang Ancient Town, Guanyin Gorge, Jade Dragon Snow Mountain, Botanical Garden, Rainforest Valley, Myanmar trip… all of these have left us with unforgettable aesthetic experiences, making us love nature, life, and humanity even more. Moreover, atop these beautiful mountains and in lush forests, we experienced the joy and happiness of intimacy for the first time; the scene and the emotion blended perfectly, people and scenery complemented each other, allowing us to realize our long-cherished dream of loving both the land and the beauty of women.
There are countless beautiful sights in the world, but all love has its limits. Flowers bloom and fade, fleeting clouds should not be lingering. The truly beautiful things in this world reside in our hearts. If our hearts are open, even a ray of sunshine or a gentle breeze is exquisite beauty; if our hearts are filled with evil weeds, where can we find room for a single kind crop?
There's no need to ask for directions, the road is in my heart; there are no roads in the world, but sincerity will surely lead to a path.
Looking back on my encounter with the young woman, from meeting to getting to know her, from acquaintance to friendship, the process was brief, natural, and inevitable. It was my good fortune, and hers too.
I don't believe that taking a beautiful young woman on a trip to Yunnan, where I can freely touch, fondle, and have sex with her, is a good, clean, gentle, and affectionate woman at a low cost—a high-value deal. All of this makes it seem like I'm getting a bargain. But if we must argue about whether it's a bargain or not, then in this process, the one who truly benefits is the woman, not the man. She doesn't lose anything; she only gains pleasure and enjoyment.
Therefore, many people have a paradox regarding relationships between men and women, thinking that no matter what they pay or what methods they use, as long as they get to have sex with a woman, they've gained an advantage. But remember, it's always the woman who benefits.
Therefore, when a man tries to please a woman, he shouldn't lower his noble head.
With favorable weather and a smooth journey, there's no need for heartache or empty worries. No matter how wonderful Yunnan is, we are just passing through. Life should be about changing scenery at every turn. As long as you have appreciative eyes and a thoughtful mind, there are breathtaking views everywhere.
Goodbye, dear Yunnan, you graceful young woman. On your beautiful breasts, we planted love; between your full hips, we sowed affection.
In our hearts and in our minds, we have taken away your snow-capped mountains, your rivers, your caves, your stone forests, every blade of grass and tree in your tropics, and everything that left us with beautiful memories.
[1] On the way to Myanmar
The night at the Jinghong Hotel was beautiful, warm and peaceful. The occasional moaning accompanied our even snoring. What a beautiful and deep dream it must have been.
The next morning, just after six o'clock, we were woken up by a phone call. We washed up, ate breakfast, and before seven o'clock, we gathered and boarded the bus.
Director Yang boarded the bus and gave each person a bag of food, including eggs, sausages, bread, pickled vegetables, and two cases of mineral water. Director Yang said, "Attention everyone, today we're going to Myanmar. We'll stop at some scenic spots along the way this morning, but the stops won't be long. We won't be having lunch at a hotel; you can have lunch whenever you want. We expect to arrive in Myanmar around noon. Once we cross the border, everyone must follow the rules and instructions. No unauthorized actions are allowed, or you'll be responsible for the consequences. Activities in Myanmar include visiting friends' homes, visiting a drug enforcement museum, visiting the Shwedagon Pagoda, and shopping. There are also crocodile shows, elephant shows, ladyboy shows, and striptease shows. You can choose whichever you like; you can consider it now. Due to time constraints and many requests, we'll have to see two shows at the same time. Think it over now and make your decision. This afternoon, we'll return from Myanmar and stay in Jinghong again. Okay, let's go!" After Director Yang finished explaining, we set off.
We drove a short distance to a market and stopped. Director Yang said, "We'll stop for twenty minutes. You can use the restroom and do some shopping. We'll depart on time."
We got off the bus. Since we weren't going to a restaurant for lunch, we naturally had to prepare some food ourselves. We bought some dried meat and other snacks at the market, and bananas and other convenient fruits to carry outside. We even had a vendor peel two small pineapples for us.
This market is a must-see for tourists, and there were quite a few shoppers; I guess the tour guide would get a commission.
The bus set off, and the scenery on both sides of the road was typical of South Asia. In the distance, there were mountains covered with tropical trees; closer by, there were rice paddies, banana fields, and sugarcane groves.
The morning air was fresh and cool, and everyone was full of energy. After driving for a while, the bus arrived at a temple, which I remember was called the Octagonal Pavilion. This pavilion was built on Jingzhen Mountain and is a national protected site. The tour guide explained that it was built during the Kangxi era. The pavilion is a brick and wood structure with doors on all four sides and sixteen brick pillars. Each corner is covered with Burmese tiles, and copper bells hang from the edges of the pavilion, jingling in the wind.
Next to the pavilion was a Bodhi tree. This was the first time I had ever seen a Bodhi tree, and I had long held it in awe. We often say, "Bodhi is not a tree, nor is the bright mirror a stand. Originally there is nothing, so where can dust settle?" Today, I finally stood at the foot of that tree, imbued with Buddhist meaning.
I had read about the Buddha's ascetic practices at the Little Potala Palace in Chengde. Legend has it that when Buddha Shakyamuni first began his practice, he lived deep in the mountains, refusing money, food, and beauty. Yet, he still did not attain Buddhahood,　 becoming emaciated and filled with pessimism and world-weariness.
In his despair and confusion, he jumped into the Ganges River, intending to drown himself. On his deathbed, he suddenly realized his mistake, grabbed a straw, and reached the shore. A shepherdess rescued him, nourishing him with her milk.
Restored, Shakyamuni continued his practice under this Bodhi tree, meditating and discovering the path to Buddhahood. This sacred tree, so full of Buddhist significance, I naturally sat beneath it, hands clasped in prayer, and took a picture. A young woman followed suit, and I took a few pictures of her as well.
There was an ancient pagoda, not very tall, but remarkably, a large tree grew on top of it. The tree's roots tightly embraced the entire pagoda, creating a scene of tree within pagoda and pagoda within tree—a truly astonishing sight.
I also remember visiting a temple dedicated to a reclining Buddha. Under the guidance of the temple staff, tourists lined up in an orderly fashion to worship and offer incense.
My wife and I followed the queue, passing through a small iron gate, and there stood the gleaming golden reclining Buddha. What a magnificent Buddha! The reclining Buddha lay on its right side, its right hand supporting its head, its eyes half-closed, its expression serene and dignified.
Incense wafted around the Buddha, creating a solemn and respectful atmosphere as worshippers devoutly bowed and burned incense.
At the entrance, two monks were distributing large incense sticks to tourists, very thick bundles. A young woman in front of me reached out to take the incense from one of the monks, but I grabbed her hand. "Sister, we don't need to burn incense. Buddha is in our hearts; gratitude is enough." "You must worship Buddha!" a monk shouted sternly in a threatening tone. Go to hell, you bald monk! If we truly respected Buddha, we would gladly sacrifice ourselves, but these monks are using Buddha's name to deceive kind believers. I pulled the young woman along, ignoring him, and walked past the people burning incense.
Those who burned incense, having received and lit it, had to "donate money." They first put the money into the donation box, and that evening, the monks would take the donation box back to count the money—a scene of joy and harmony.
After leaving the Reclining Buddha Temple, we went to a small market. It was full of famous cigarettes and liquors, incredibly cheap, but I deeply doubted their authenticity. Five-Five brand cigarettes were only fifteen yuan a carton; if they were real, they'd be incredibly cheap. Heh, I figured I could buy a pack for two yuan, and sure enough, they sold it to me. Opening it, the tobacco inside was moldy and covered in mildew. I couldn't say for sure if it was real or fake, but I was glad I hadn't been fooled into buying more.
Leaving that small market, not long after, I arrived at a park in Daluo. There wasn't anything particularly special, except for a single tree forming a forest—a large banyan tree from which many roots sprouted downwards, penetrating the soil. These roots then gave rise to new trees, creating a whole family of trees that formed a small grove, hence the name "Single Tree Forest"—quite spectacular.
Another sight in this small park was two beautiful women, dressed like princesses or brides, beautiful and glamorous. Beneath them was a green peacock, and tourists could take photos with the women and the peacock for five yuan.
"Beautiful lady, can I take a picture with you while hugging?" I asked. "No, but you can pay an extra five yuan," the peacock woman replied. "Just five yuan, take it or leave it," I insisted. "Okay, let's take the picture," the beautiful woman conceded.
I went up and put my arms around one of the beautiful women on each side, with the green peacock in front of us. "Click! Click!" the young woman took two pictures of me. I also took a few pictures of the young woman with the peacock.
After leaving the park, we didn't go to any other attractions. Before eleven o'clock, we arrived at the Daluo Customs and lined up to leave the country.
[2] Myanmar
The cars lined up, and Director Yang collected everyone's ID cards and told us to wait in the car while she went to handle some procedures. Not long after, Director Yang returned and told us to get off the car and that people and cars had to go through customs separately.
The gate of the People's Republic of China is quite magnificent, with a huge national emblem that looks majestic and solemn.
Soldiers stand guard at the gate, their military uniforms are neat, and their every move shows that they are well-trained. Under the peaked caps are dark and youthful faces. These soldiers represent the image of the motherland.
I originally thought that leaving the country would be a very troublesome thing, but I didn't expect it to be so simple. The soldiers checked our IDs against our faces and waved us through, one after another, as convenient and fast as a supermarket exit.
After passing through the Chinese customs gate, we walked a short distance to the Myanmar customs. Compared to Chinese customs, Myanmar's customs was much simpler, just two symbolic gateposts.
Two Myanmar soldiers stood at the gateposts, dark-skinned, thin, and short, their uniforms disheveled, wearing old-fashioned green Eighth Route Army-style hats, their belts loose. They probably didn't bother checking our IDs; one hand held a cigarette, the other simply waved for us to pass. Passing the gateposts
with the Myanmar soldiers, we were in Myanmar. After passing through this gate, our car pulled up from the side road, and we got back in and continued on.
The border region of Myanmar was environmentally similar to China, except villages were sparse and people even fewer. After driving for more than ten minutes, we saw almost no one, unlike in China where people were everywhere like ants.
After driving for several tens of minutes, we could finally see golden rooftops in the distance. Director Yang said that was the roof of the Golden Temple, and that was our first stop.
When we arrived at the small town with the Golden Temple (which I thought was just a town), our car first drove into a large courtyard, parked, and everyone went to the restroom.
A little while later, a female server came out of the building and warmly said, "Hello everyone! Please come in for tea."
We followed her into a small meeting room. The server poured tea for everyone and asked where we were from. Everyone started talking at once, saying where they lived; it seemed there were several from Shandong, mostly.
After clarifying our basic information, the server said, "We run a private crocodile leather goods company. Our boss is from Shandong. I'll go get him. If you want to buy some crocodile leather products to take back, see if he can give you a discount because we're from the same hometown." After saying this, the server turned and left.
A while later, a man in his thirties arrived, speaking with a thick Shandong accent. "Hello everyone! Hello fellow countrymen! It's so heartwarming to see you all abroad. I'm a straightforward guy, so I won't beat around the bush. My dad runs a crocodile skin company here. We mainly sell to Southeast Asians and Europeans. For us Chinese, we only charge cost price. We can't make money off our own people; why not make money off foreigners? My home is in Jinan, right next to Baotu Spring. I graduated from the History Department of Shandong University, but I found it boring, so I came here to do business with my dad. Sigh! After coming here, I still think my hometown is the best; it's hard to leave one's homeland." The man spoke with great emotion.
Unfortunately, he misjudged them. This whole busload of people were salespeople; they'd seen it all before. Did they think they could be fooled by his tricks? Everyone offered him some insincere pleasantries, but no one actually opened their wallets.
After chatting for a while, seeing there was no point in getting anything out of him, the man said, "Everyone, please enjoy your tea here. I have some things to take care of." Then he left without looking back. A while later, he and the waiter didn't come back in. Haha, this fellow Chinese guy left his fellow countrymen here, showing no regard for kinship whatsoever.
We left this "friend's" house and got into the car. The car took us to the anti-drug museum, and everyone got off. I don't remember exactly, but it seemed to be a two-story building.
Inside, there were samples of opium, heroin, marijuana, ecstasy, heroin, and other drugs on display—I'd never seen these before. There were also pictures depicting the dangers of drug use, showing various diseases—it was frightening and disgusting. Of course, there were also photos of anti-drug achievements and heroes. The most remarkable thing was that the notorious drug lord Khun Sa surrendered to the government forces. He'd made enough money, so he was exempt from all legal responsibility. What did surrender matter?
We spent half an hour in the anti-drug museum, basically seeing everything, even though there weren't many exhibits to begin with.
After leaving the anti-drug museum, the car took us to the foot of the Great Golden Hall. There were small shops and stalls there, much like a typical rural area in China. Director Yang said, "Everyone can now visit the Great Hall and have lunch here at your leisure. We'll meet again at 1 PM to watch the performances. You can only watch two shows at a time, so please think it over carefully. I will respect the opinions of the majority." Director Yang emphasized again that everyone should choose what to watch.
"Director Yang, could you please introduce what each performance is like?" someone asked.
"Okay, let me introduce them. First, the elephant show, where elephants rub the breasts and genitals of beautiful women, 100 yuan; second, the crocodile show, where someone's head is shoved into the crocodile's mouth, thrilling and exciting, 100 yuan; third, the ladyboy show, which is basically ladyboys, but the ladyboys here are all older ones, the young princess ladyboys are in Thailand, 100 yuan; fourth, the Southeast Asian striptease show, you can guess what it is, 100 yuan; fifth, the Russian striptease show, I won't say what it is, 200 yuan. That's all. Everyone, think it over, and when you get on the bus this afternoon, I'll tally it up and choose the two most popular choices to see."
After Director Yang finished speaking, everyone went their separate ways, some to play, some to watch, and some to eat.
It was just past noon when the young woman and I found a shady spot to have lunch. The lunch provided by the tour group, plus some of the food we bought ourselves, was reasonably tasty.
After lunch, the young woman took my arm and we strolled around the Golden Temple. There wasn't much inside; I'd heard it was built by the Chinese, and Myanmar didn't have much money, so they hadn't managed to create anything decent.
After leaving the temple, we took a short walk around the area, but there really wasn't much to see. It was as desolate as rural China in the 1980s.
What surprised me was that if I hadn't crossed the border, I wouldn't have been able to tell if I was in China or Myanmar.
The people here spoke Chinese, used RMB, and had China Unicom cell phone signal. I tried calling the young woman, and it worked just like back home. We
arrived at 1 PM, and everyone boarded the bus. Our guide, Yang, asked what shows everyone wanted to see. There were all sorts of things to see, but the most popular was the Russian striptease, followed by the ladyboy show. The young woman and I chose the Russian striptease; after all, we'd never seen foreign women naked before, and we weren't going to miss this opportunity. Everyone was chattering and discussing, it was truly impossible to please everyone.
"Everyone, quiet down," Director Yang said. "Based on the majority opinion, we've decided to send some people to see the ladyboy show first, then another group to see the Russian burlesque show. The rest of you can either choose one of these shows or stay on the bus and wait. That's settled." I really admire Director Yang for this; she's decisive.
"I'm going to see the ladyboy show!" "I'm going to see the Russian burlesque show!" "Me too!" "Me too!" Several more people signed up.
Director Yang took out her notebook, wrote down the names, and collected the ticket money. Her commission for these shows was substantial; with over twenty people today, she had a good haul.
The bus started moving, and soon we arrived at the ladyboy show area. We waited on the bus while the ladyboy show audience got off with Director Yang. Director Yang bought tickets for that group, settled them in, and then returned to the bus.
We didn't travel far after that, and we arrived at the Russian burlesque show area. "Those of you watching the Russian striptease performance, get off with me. The rest of you wait on the bus," Director Yang called out.
We got off with her, and after a short walk, we arrived at a large hall that resembled an old Chinese cinema from the 1980s. Director Yang went to buy tickets, and when she returned, she handed them out to everyone. "Go in and sit anywhere; no assigned seats. During the performance, no photos or videos. Taking photos or videos will result in a fine and your camera or video recorder will be confiscated. Don't make loud noises or cause a disturbance; follow the rules of the performance venue. If any problems arise, don't handle them yourself; contact me immediately. I'll be waiting for you at the entrance. That's all I have to say. Go in, everyone, and have a good time!" After Director Yang finished speaking, we all entered the performance hall.
The hall was really large, with dozens of rows of plywood chairs. There weren't many people watching the performance; it seemed we were one of the later ones. People were rushing to get a seat, probably to get a better view.
The young woman and I, with ulterior motives, sat in the middle of the fifth row from the back. There was no one behind us, no one to our sides, and more than ten rows of seats away from the large group in front.
We sat down; the lights in the performance hall were still on, and loud music was blaring from the speakers. The people were quiet and orderly. I had assumed that most people watching striptease performances were men, but judging from the number of men and women in the hall, it seemed that women were just as lustful as men.
I lit a cigarette and secretly slipped my hand under the young woman's skirt towards her inner thigh, pinching and squeezing, slowly moving it through her underwear towards her genitals. Judging from the situation, once the performance started and the lights dimmed, we would have a chance to do something good. Looking at those beautiful Russian women on stage, it would be such a waste if we didn't have our turn.
Suddenly, the lights in the hall went out, leaving only the stage lights on. A man came out, holding a microphone. "Hello friends! Our performance is about to begin. Now I'd like to announce the venue rules: First, no photography or videography. Otherwise, we have the right to confiscate your equipment and impose a fine, and pursue legal action for infringement as appropriate. Second,..." In short, he laid out specific requirements. Without rules, there can be no order; there should be rules, and everyone will abide by them.
Since the lights were dim and no one was around, my hand became even more brazen, groping the young woman's genitals. At first, she was embarrassed, but now that the lights were off and it was safe, her hand reached for my crotch, grabbing and rubbing my penis through my shorts.
There was no host, no announcer; the performance began with the music playing! The entire venue was solemn and quiet, everyone watching with the same focused expression as if attending a funeral.
Six Russian girls, three on each side of the stage, gracefully emerged. They wore thin gauze, bras, and panties.
My first impression was, wow, they were all tall! Four of them were probably over 1.75 meters, and the two shorter ones were probably over 1.68 meters. Under the lights, the girls had fair skin and long, beautiful legs.
The six girls danced gracefully on stage, their movements light and agile. I never imagined someone so tall could dance so gracefully.
It started as a group dance, the steps synchronized, healthy and beautiful. Only when they did high kicks did we see their large breasts through their underwear. But since it was called an erotic dance, we were sure we'd see what was inside their underwear and bras, so everyone was patient and full of anticipation.
Seeing all this was already quite arousing, so I started to fiddle with the young woman's genitals faster and harder, and she provocatively pinched my penis harder and harder.
On stage, two girls reached into their transparent gauze dresses, pulled out their bras, and threw them onto the stage. Then, they turned around sharply—beautiful! The two girls' luscious breasts were fully displayed beneath their transparent gauze dresses. The four girls stepped back, while the two girls stepped forward, striking poses and showing off before gracefully turning backstage.
Seeing the Russian breasts, I couldn't resist and slipped my hand inside the young woman's panties, directly touching her vulva. Her vulva was already very wet, her labia majora soaked. I ran my fingers around her cleft a few times, then moved downwards, inserting them into her vagina and thrusting.
The young woman, enjoying the pleasure of my fingers, shifted her hips in the chair, allowing me to thrust deeper.
On stage, two more girls, while kicking their legs, reached into their panties, "Swish!", "Swish!"—their movements were so fast, like magic, that they pulled off their panties and threw them onto the stage. The audience fell silent, waiting for the show.
*Slap slap!* The two girls kicked high, and at the base of their legs, their dark pubic hair revealed glimpses of their vulvas hidden among it. Soon, their legs came down; *Slap slap!* Amidst the audience's anticipation, the two girls kicked high again, revealing their beautiful vulvas. After a few more kicks, they gracefully moved backstage.
I couldn't resist watching; my penis was already hard and throbbing. I quickened my pace in stimulating the young woman's vulva. "Sister, put your hand in, give me a rub," I said, feeling that her efforts weren't enough. The young woman obediently put her hand inside my underwear, grasped my penis, and began to slowly play with it.
The two remaining girls on stage continued dancing. As they danced, they threw their bras off the stage, their large breasts swaying as they continued to dance. As they danced, they also lifted their legs and pulled down their pants, removing their panties. Good heavens, the two beauties on stage were only wearing transparent gauze; in fact, it was practically the same as wearing nothing at all. They didn't kick, just swayed. When a woman doesn't lift her legs, you can't see the vulva; you can only see pubic hair and genitals. The genitals were plump, the pubic hair was dark—enough to be alluring.
I couldn't stand watching anymore; I wanted to do it for real. Although it felt good for the young woman to masturbate me, I still wanted to do it for real. Looking at our surroundings, if the young woman were wearing a skirt and sitting on me, no one would be able to tell. And even if they did, who would say anything?
"Sister, pull your panties aside and sit on my penis, okay?" I pleaded with the young woman.
"Brother, is it okay? Is it safe here?" she asked worriedly.
"Yes, yes, you're wearing a skirt, what are you afraid of? This hall is so dark, and there's no one around. Nobody will care about us. Even if someone sees us and suspects us, it's not scary. Come on, sister, come on up, sit on me," I encouraged her.
"Okay, I'll sit on you. Unbutton your pants and take your penis out," she agreed.
On stage, the two girls suddenly turned backstage, marking the end of the first performance. The young woman and I had to pause.
The stage lights dimmed and then came back on. The two girls emerged from opposite sides of the stage, danced in the center, and then removed their bras, panties, and sheer fabric, revealing two goddess-like bodies. The young woman
and I couldn't take it anymore, and I tugged at her. The young woman understood. She straddled my legs, lifted her skirt, pulled her underwear to one side with one hand, and held my penis with the other. She sat down, adjusted herself a few times, and aligned the head of my penis with her vagina. Her vaginal opening was already wet and slippery. She pinched my penis and rubbed it against her vaginal opening a few times, then lowered her hips, inserting more than two inches of my penis into her vagina. She then slightly lifted her hips and lowered them again, repeating this three or four times. As my penis became more slippery and the friction against the vaginal walls decreased, she forcefully lowered her hips, inserting the entire penis into her vagina.
My penis was finally inside her vagina—tight, warm, fleshy, and slippery—all incredibly comfortable.
The young woman sat on my penis, her hands holding onto the back of the chair in front of her. I also reached my hands across the sides of her body, holding onto the back of the chair in front of me, as if I were holding my lover while watching a performance.
Two Russian girls on stage danced, then walked to the poles at opposite corners of the stage. "Whoosh!" They grabbed the poles and began to dance with practiced skill. The moment they kicked their legs on the poles, their large vaginas were clearly exposed. I could only make out that the girl on the right had a larger vagina, perhaps because her pubic hair was sparse. It was surprising how agile the Russian girls, despite their tall stature, were on the poles, flipping and spinning with ease. Their breasts swayed and bounced with their movements, a truly beautiful sight. After
dancing on the poles for a while, the two girls went backstage naked.
During the performance, I dared to thrust my genitals forcefully into the young woman's vagina, and she dared to sit with me and manipulate my penis. During the intermission, we stopped moving, and the young woman quietly used her vagina to grip my penis, like a child sucking on a nipple, enjoying it immensely.
The pole dancers left, and a man and a woman came out to dance a duet, accompanied by soft music, as if they were enacting a love story. The man picked up the woman, spun her around, kissed her, kneaded her breasts, and caressed her.
While they were kneading her breasts on stage, I couldn't resist reaching into the woman's breasts and grabbing her large breasts to knead them.
The man on stage lifted the woman onto a table in the center of the stage, first removing her light gauze, then her bra and thong. He kissed her breasts and then her genitals. Then, the man picked the woman up and stood her upright on the ground, touching and kneading her breasts.
He touched her on stage, and I touched her below the stage. As I touched her, I thrust in and out, and the woman also wiggled her hips, rubbing my penis against her vagina.
The man on stage lifted the woman's legs, showing her vagina to the audience. Now I could see it clearly—thick pubic hair, large labia. It was definitely a European woman's vagina, a size larger than ours in Asia.
Okay, seeing the cunt on stage only fueled my desire to fuck the young woman. I thrust a few times, and realized that my own woman's cunt was still the best—small, delicate, and exquisite.
The man on stage laid the woman down on the stage, then straddled her, pretending to fuck her. Actually, the man was wearing underwear; it was just a performance, but those unaware thought it was a real fucking act.
"Hey, is he fucking her?" the young woman whispered to me.
"No, it's just a performance. He's wearing underwear. We're the ones who are really fucking," I told her.
"Little brother, hurry up and cum. What will we do if the show ends and you're still not done?" the young woman's concern wasn't unfounded.
"Don't worry, the show is forty-five minutes long, and only half of it has passed," I reassured her.
The man on stage pretended to fuck the woman for a few minutes, then got up, carried the girl, and ran backstage.
Silly boy, you're lucky. He can probably fuck all these Russian girls backstage as he pleases.
Another pause, and we stopped thrusting again, but my hand was still inside the young woman's clothes, grabbing and kneading her breasts.
The music started again, and a woman of medium build and full figure moved from backstage to the front. As she danced, she made various seductive and provocative movements. Little by little, she removed her black veil, revealing her fleshy, white body. There were soft hisses from the audience; she was so beautiful.
I thrust my hips and fucked the young woman a few times, and she followed suit, sitting down hard to take my penis in. She
was already very wet, and my penis felt as if it had been doused with bath gel, making it even more slippery, and I fucked her even harder.
The girl on stage kept posing and flirting, and then slowly took off her bra, revealing a pair of large, plump breasts. What a pair of large breasts! Perhaps due to special training, they were so large, yet proudly firm, showing no sign of sagging. The girl seemed to caress and tantalize her large breasts, occasionally turning, leaning to the side, and bending over with a flourish; sometimes, she forcefully squeezed her breasts together to create a deep cleavage. It was incredibly alluring; how many men in the audience must have their penises hard and erect, burning with desire?
My penis, of course, was even more enraged, and this rage was directed at the young woman's wet pussy. I began to thrust into her rapidly and forcefully. She probably wanted me to fuck her wildly, otherwise, why would her ass sway so perfectly in sync with my thrusts?
The girl on stage, swaying and twisting, suddenly jumped off the stage. She dashed towards the audience, stepping on chairs, and reached about the third or fourth row. She grabbed a male audience member's hand and pulled it towards her large breasts to fondle them.
The timid man dared not actively fondle the Russian girl's ample breasts; his hand was merely passively pulled and fondled by her.
This sudden action was too much for me, the young woman, to bear. I gripped her breasts tightly, pushing downwards to make her vagina grip my penis more tightly and penetrate it more deeply. I imagined myself fondling the Russian girl's breasts while simultaneously fucking her. My penis itched, her vagina burned, and we were close to ejaculation and orgasm.
The Russian girl quickly left the audience and jumped back onto the stage. Many people envied the chosen man; their only regret was that the Russian girl hadn't taken off her panties. The
young woman and I were both ready for an orgasm, poised to erupt at any moment.
Just then, the girl with the large breasts on stage went backstage, the music stopped, and the young woman and I didn't want to act recklessly at that moment. We paused our thrusting, slowly savoring the heat and tightness inside her vagina.
The music started again, and another Russian girl danced out, still wearing light gauze, moving gracefully, kicking her legs, swaying her hips, twisting her waist, and flashing her chest.
The girl's movements further aroused our desire, and the young woman and I resumed our intense fucking. I thrust upwards, she sat downwards, our movements perfectly synchronized.
The girl on the stage gradually removed her bra, then her thong. Her pubic hair was even less, and when she stood, her labia appeared remarkably full, plump and round like a large, slit steamed bun—what a beautiful steamed bun-shaped vulva!
It was so tempting! I intensified my fucking of the young woman's beautiful cunt, fuck! fuck! Harder, harder! I thrust all the way to the bottom of her cunt, fucking her G-spot. The young woman began to moan softly, trying to suppress the excitement of her impending orgasm.
On stage, the Russian girl spread her legs, thrusting her hips forward and bending backward, revealing her entire cunt to the audience. Her large, thick labia suddenly split open, revealing her plump labia minora. She was still thrusting in and out, making fucking motions. It
was so stimulating, so sensual, I couldn't take it anymore. The young woman and I went crazy watching it. We didn't care about anything else. I stood up and thrust violently, and the young woman twisted her hips and sat back, squeezing my big cock. "Slap slap slap!" It was coming, it was coming! The young woman's cunt was contracting, tightening, and my cock was itching and burning. Her cunt was contracting, and my cock was throbbing. "Pfft!", "Pfft!", "Pfft!", she ejaculated, hot semen shooting into the young woman's wet pussy. Ah, so good, so incredibly good! So satisfying, so satisfying!
The Russian girl on stage jumped off and pulled a man around forty years old from the first row of audience members.
She grabbed his naked body and began to undress him piece by piece. When he was down to his underwear, the man refused to let her take off any more clothes. Haha, the girl undresses him, but won't let him fuck her—it's torture!
While she was performing, I took out some toilet paper to dry the young woman's pussy and genitals, and placed a sanitary napkin under her.
I also dried my penis and genitals. And just like that, the battlefield was quickly cleaned up.
After tormenting the male tourist, the Russian girl jumped back onto the stage, danced a few more times, and then went backstage.
The stage lights brightened, the music started again, and all six Russian girls came out, along with the man who had pretended to fuck her. They danced together, each performing different sexy moves, the stage spinning, the scene lively and exciting. To the beat of energetic music, the girls huddled together, striking beautiful, sexy, and provocative poses, collectively blowing kisses to the audience, marking the end of the performance.
Everyone was reluctant to leave, still enjoying themselves, but had to leave the performance hall. Back on the bus, Director Yang and several people who hadn't participated in any of the activities were waiting. Director Yang asked, "How was the show?" "Great!" everyone answered in unison.
The bus departed, arriving at the ladyboy show venue again. The people who had watched the ladyboy show were already waiting there; they got on the bus.
Leaving the ladyboy show venue, we went to a supermarket. This supermarket, probably considered large locally, would actually be considered small in China. The difference was that here, pornographic DVDs and books were freely available and legally sold.
There wasn't much to buy in the supermarket; we just went in and came out. Once on the bus, Director Yang said, "Did everyone have a good time? We'll head back now and have dinner in Jinghong. Please check if anything is missing; it's hard to find things lost abroad. Now that everyone's here, let's go!"
At the border crossing, people and vehicles separated as usual. Once across the border, we were back home. It was that simple. Is this what you call going abroad? Heh, good or bad, it's still going abroad; at least we saw a Russian striptease.
On the return trip, we didn't see any other attractions. Around 6 PM, we arrived back in Jinghong.
Before getting off the bus, Director Yang explained the next steps: "Attention everyone, we'll be going to a restaurant for dinner soon. You're free to do as you please tonight, but please be careful. Breakfast is at 6:30 AM tomorrow, and we'll be taken to the airport at 7:20 AM. Our flight from Xishuangbanna to Kunming is at 9:05 AM, so please don't be late tomorrow morning and don't leave your belongings in your rooms. Okay, everyone, get off the bus and have dinner."
The last dinner was quite sumptuous, as the lunch had been simple and inexpensive. With so many people watching the performance in Myanmar, Director Yang had earned a considerable commission, so he was pleased and added extra dishes and wine.
During this final dinner, everyone toasted and exchanged greetings, exchanging addresses and contact information in a harmonious and joyful atmosphere. After the meal, everyone went their separate ways to continue their activities for the last night.
[3] The Last Night in Jinghong
After leaving the restaurant, the young woman and I strolled into the street. On one hand, we wanted to walk around and digest our food; on the other hand, we wanted to leave a final impression of this night in Jinghong.
Tomorrow I will also embark on my journey,
accompanying you through wind and rain.
The mountains are high, the rivers are long, and the road is uneven
; let's climb hand in hand.
As the saying goes, the most
beautiful scenery is at the most dangerous peaks.
When the rain stops and the sun shines,
good news will turn into a rainbow.
The tropical evening breeze is intoxicating; under thin shirts and short skirts, the legs of girls in love move. Jinghong, the romantic capital of Xishuangbanna, exudes the boundless charm of the South Asian subtropics.
A young woman nestled against me, and I embraced her, our voices soft and gentle, like the soft chirping of swallows.
A gentle breeze blew, and I was already intoxicated. What did I care about royal power and wealth, what did I care about rules and regulations? As long as we could be together forever, with my beloved by my side. No need for forever, no need for eternity, as long as we embraced passionately, then let's just enjoy the moment.
After strolling around and getting tired, we returned to the hotel.
The first thing we did upon arriving was unpack. Our goal was to pack her things and mine separately to avoid confusion when we parted; it was also a final packing, with everything except essentials for tomorrow, packed according to the standard of taking everything home directly.
It took us more than half an hour to finally finish packing everything—two large, full bags, plus a small bag of toiletries and fruit.
Everything was ready; I could just grab it and leave tomorrow morning. I carefully checked the drawers and wardrobe to make sure there was nothing else before I felt relieved. That's how we poor folks are; we feel bad even losing a pair of smelly socks.
Finally, it was over. I was tired and sweaty. Of course, I had to take off all my clothes and wash up; I hadn't washed away the semen and vaginal fluids from the nightclub in Myanmar.
I carried the young woman to the bed and laid her down. I undressed her piece by piece, like I was taking care of a child.
I lay on the bed myself, enjoying her undressing me.
Once we were naked, we went to the bathroom to wash and massage each other. After washing, the rubbing and touching rekindled our passion.
Back on the bed, we lay down together, embracing and kissing for a while. The young woman then turned around and positioned herself in a 69 position with me. She took my already erect penis into her mouth, and at the same time, she spread her legs, indicating that I should bury my head between her legs.
I rested my head on her inner thighs and began licking her labia and vagina with my tongue. Her freshly washed vagina smelled wonderful, slightly fishy and pungent, but mostly alluring. Watching her vagina gradually fill with vaginal fluid, I gently inserted my fingers, my tongue licking her already swollen pink clitoris.
The young woman sucked on my penis as if it were a delicious treat, "Little brother, give your sister another 'vagina-sucking technique' like we did at Butterfly Spring." She remembered the vagina-sucking technique I had performed on her—a move that all women love, and most find difficult to resist.
"Okay, little brother will give you one," I said, turning over and kneeling on either side of the young woman's body, straddling her crotch. I poked a few times inside her vagina with my hand, then lowered my head, put my mouth to her vaginal opening, and sealed it tightly to prevent any air from escaping. I took a deep breath, puffed out my cheeks, and then forcefully blew hot air into her vagina, causing it to swell up instantly; after a slight pause, I "whoosh!" sucked all the hot air out of her vagina, and instantly, her vagina deflated again.
"Oh! Dear little brother, this is too good, I can't take it, I can't take it! It's too good!" the young woman indeed couldn't take it anymore, she cried out in satisfaction.
I ignored her cries and continued blowing and sucking several times, I used all my strength, my cheeks were numb from sucking.
"Mommy, dear little brother, darling little brother, you're killing me, so good, so hot and itchy!" the young woman's face was red, she kicked her legs and gripped the sheets.
"Sis, are you going to fuck me? When?" My cock wanted to go in, to see if she wanted to fuck me or just suck on my pussy a little longer.
"Fuck, fuck, come fuck me, little brother, hurry up, my pussy is craving your big cock, come on, come on!" The young woman was desperately thirsty.
I turned over, supporting myself on the bed, without even using my hands to hold my cock, I rubbed it against the entrance of her vagina a few times, and then "plop!" I thrust all the way to the bottom.
"Oh my god! You fucked my flower spot right away, you hit the mark so well." The young woman exclaimed with pleasure and satisfaction.
I started thrusting like I was doing push-ups, and the young woman moaned and screamed wildly as I was fucked. I thrust in and out about sixty or seventy times, and the young woman was drenched in sweat, and I was panting heavily. I've been fucking her really hard lately, and I've been putting in a lot of effort, making sure every thrust is satisfying.
I stopped thrusting, wanting to catch my breath. "Sis, I want to fuck your ass again, do you like it? If you like it, I'll fuck you, if you don't, I won't, anyway, fucking your pussy feels good too." I was just curious; I wasn't particularly interested in anal sex, but I wasn't averse to it either.
"Go ahead, little brother, fuck me if you want, everything I have is yours, you can fuck me however you like, I also want to experience the feeling of you fucking my ass again, but you have to use a condom." Encouraged by the young woman, I perked up.
"Okay, sis, wait here, I'll go to the bathroom to get a condom." Saying that, I pulled out my penis, got off the bed, and went to the bathroom.
There were condoms in the bathroom tray, not just any condoms, but two of them. Seeing there were two, a brilliant idea struck me: why not put a condom on the peeled banana and insert it into her vagina, while my penis, still covered, went into her anus? That way, both of us would enjoy it more—a completely new experience!
I tore open one condom and put it on my penis. I tore open the other one too. Back in the room, I peeled open a banana and put the condom on it.
"Little brother, you want to fuck both of your sister's holes at the same time? You're so greedy!" The young woman saw through my thoughts; her words meant she didn't object.
"Sister, want to try it? We'll both enjoy it!" I teased her.
"Let's try it then. They're both soft anyway, it won't damage anything," she said, revealing her curiosity.
I had the young woman lie on her back on the edge of the bed with a pillow under her buttocks. I first inserted my penis into her vagina, waited for lubrication, then pulled it out and moved it to her anus. I inserted it little by little several times before finally pushing it in halfway, then with another thrust, the entire penis was inside her anus. Her anus was even tighter than her vagina, just as slippery. There was a slight resistance when thrusting, but it became smoother with repeated thrusting. The feeling of fucking her anus was unique; not exactly wonderful, but very stimulating.
"Sis, how does it feel to fuck your anus?" I asked the young woman.
"It's alright, very comfortable. It hurt a little at first, but it's fine now." This was only the second time I'd fucked her anus, and I hadn't expected her to adapt so quickly.
I fucked her anus for a while, thrusting in and out. Then I paused, moistened the banana (with a condom on) at her vaginal opening with her vaginal fluid, rubbed it a few times, and then slid it into her vagina.
Now she had a banana in her front hole and a penis in her back hole. I started thrusting my penis and the banana in simultaneously. As I thrust, I could clearly feel the banana squeezing my penis inside her anus; the feeling was tingling, numb, and itchy—incredibly stimulating.
"Fuck! Fuck fuck! This is fucking me to death, oh my god! My pussy feels so good, it feels so good to be fucked by my little brother! Oh, ah ah!" the young woman cried out again, a sign of extreme excitement.
I ignored her cries and just kept thrusting my cock in and out of her ass, while using my hand to push and pull out the banana to 'fuck' her pussy. After fucking like this for a while, my cock was as hard as a dam about to burst, I was about to ejaculate.
I wanted to cum inside the young woman's pussy, I couldn't let the banana get away with it. I pulled out the banana, and saw that it had been crushed by her vagina and my cock, so I threw it into the trash can. I pulled out my cock, took off the condom, and threw it into the trash can as well.
"Sister, I'm going to cum inside your pussy, let's do it together, okay?" I asked the young woman, I knew she was about to climax, because she was sweating profusely, and her breathing was trembling.
"Okay! Okay, come on, little brother, fuck me, orgasm, together, together!" She was obviously close to climaxing.
I let out a "whoosh" and pounced on her again, thrusting my cock all the way in with a "plop, plop!"
"Ouch!" she cried out.
I didn't care, closed my eyes, and started thrusting wildly, "Ahhh! Ahhh! Ahhh! Fuck you! Fuck you to death! Sister, I'll fuck you to death! Fuck your cunt to death! Your little cunt! Your little slut! Fuck me! Ahhh! Ahhh!" I was truly insane, it was a complete outburst, a reckless madness.
"Ouch! Ouch! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! I'm fucked to death, I'm dead, I'm fucked to death, my cunt, my cunt is fucked to death! I'm fucked to death! Ouch! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!—!" With the young woman's longest howl, her cunt gushed out like a spring, her cunt fiercely biting my penis, streams of hot fluid pouring onto it. My penis, scalded and bitten by the hot fluid from her cunt, opened its gates, and my semen erupted like a volcanic eruption, shooting into the beautiful young woman's cunt.
After the orgasm, the two soft mounds lay on the bed for a long time before their breathing evened out and the sweat subsided.
"Little brother, you must be tired, let's go wash up and go to sleep," the young woman said with concern.
"Tired is tired, but fucking my sister, I'd be willing to die from exhaustion. Come on, let's wash up," I helped the young woman up and headed to the bathroom.
The last night in Jinghong was romantic, tender, wild, and crazy.
[4] Parting
The next morning, after breakfast, we went downstairs with all our luggage and handed our room keys to Director Yang.
Director Yang counted the number of people, and at 7:20, the bus took us away from the hotel.
Around 7:40, we arrived at the airport. Director Yang gave me my boarding pass and issued my ticket. The young woman and I checked our luggage.
At the security checkpoint, Director Yang shook hands with each of us goodbye.
I went up to her and hugged her. She whispered to me, "Looking at your ID cards, you're not a couple?"
I smiled mysteriously and whispered, "Director Yang has a good eye!" "Come to Jinghong again sometime, and contact me!"
After saying this, Director Yang held my hand tightly, and we bid each other a reluctant farewell. Goodbye! Director Yang, thank you for your meticulous arrangements and care over the past two days, giving us the opportunity to travel abroad. I wish you all the best!
After we passed through security, Director Yang waved goodbye to us for the last time.
At 9:05, our plane took off, marking the end of our trip to Xishuangbanna, Yunnan.
Goodbye! Romantic Jinghong Hotel; goodbye! Gentle Botanical Garden; goodbye! Passionate Rainforest Valley; goodbye! My beloved dance hall; goodbye! My beloved tropical paradise.
Meeting is a song,
traveling together is you and me.
Parting is the road of tomorrow,
longing is the fire of life.
Meeting is a song,
the singers are you and me,
our hearts are the eternal strings,
steadfast and persistent.
The plane is now soaring at ten thousand meters, drawing a period to our meeting. Whether this period is perfect or not, it was once a song of meeting.
At 9:55 AM, the plane landed at Yunnan Airport, where our tour guide, Ms. Gao, from Kunming, greeted us again. She collected our ID cards and went to retrieve our pre-booked tickets.
When Ms. Gao returned, she gave us the tickets and said that those departing today could wait at the airport, while those not departing could take a bus to the city. She wished everyone a pleasant journey.
And so, we said goodbye and went our separate ways.
My flight and the young woman's flight were at 12:40 PM to Shenyang, with over an hour before security. We stored our bags and had an early lunch at a restaurant outside the airport.
A little after 11:30 AM, we passed through security. Filled with reluctance to leave Yunnan, we endured the long wait.
Finally, our plane took off.
Farewell, dear Yunnan! Thank you for your beautiful mountains, lush forests, and crystal-clear lakes; you have left us with unforgettable feelings of joy and happy memories.
The plane climbed higher and higher, farther and farther from Yunnan, closer and closer to home. Our feelings gradually shifted from longing for Yunnan to yearning for home. Especially the young woman; I saw her eyes were red and bright, a happy smile on her face and at the corners of her eyes. She was excited to see her precious daughter soon. Mothers, how great they are!
Throughout the flight, the young woman and I behaved very well, not even uttering a single inappropriate joke. The feelings in our hearts were hard to explain; it was as if we had fulfilled a contract? No, after all, the passionate, unspoken understanding between us was so profound. In any case, there was still a sweet, happy affection between us.
With someone you love, even the longest journey seems short. Shortly after dark, our plane landed at Shenyang Taoxian Airport.
Stepping off the plane, we immediately felt the northern chill and went to the changing room to put on more clothes.
After collecting our luggage, we left the airport.
Dear hometown, we're back! We've had a two-week blissful sexual trip to beautiful Yunnan, and we're back with a heavy harvest of happiness.
We took the airport bus to the city, transferred, and arrived home.
It was time to part ways. The young woman and I embraced in the street and gently kissed goodbye.
My dearest, a flood of memories of everything we've been through flashed through my mind. No words are needed; in silence, our eyes are already brimming with tears. So
close, yet so far, in an instant, everything seems to have turned upside down. Holding hands, we gaze at each other through tear-filled eyes, the pain unbearable.
Parting has always been painful; all good things must come to an end.
The young woman wanted to go directly to her in-laws' house to see her child, so I hailed a taxi for her.
She reluctantly got into the car, opening the door several times as if to say something, but then hesitated.
Don't torment my heart any longer; I decisively closed the door and signaled the driver to start.
The taxi, carrying the young woman, sped away, gradually disappearing into the distance until it vanished at the end of the road.
May she have a good journey ahead, a bright future!
I was left standing alone on the street, watching the few people heading home. I didn't know what to think, so I lit a cigarette.
The young woman and I made a promise: no matter what, on May 5th of next year, when the lilacs are in full bloom, we must meet in the lilac grove at the riverside park at the foot of Nanshan Mountain.
The October nights in the north are bitterly cold.
The chill seeps into my nostrils, yet I seem to smell spring through the winter's cold; in the season of blooming lilacs, she smiles at me from among the blossoms.
[The End]
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