Springtime without end

page views:1 Publication date:2023-08-18

The last day of 2014 was destined to be filled with boundless spring colors…

My phone was still ringing incessantly; my friends were busy deleting the bad luck of 2014 or looking forward to the beauty of 2015. I quietly arrived at the Kempinski Hotel, having spent a little extra to choose a room with an ocean view.

Entering the room, I drew the curtains, letting the bright afternoon sunlight stream in through a narrow slit I'd deliberately left open, casting a slanted glow on me. Against the backdrop of the room's dim lighting, I counted the fine dust motes dancing in the light and shadow, and my mood was exceptionally good.

Just yesterday, a stunningly beautiful woman I'd been chatting with on QQ for over six months finally agreed to meet me today.

Although we haven't met in person yet, judging from her photos, she's probably in her 30s. She mentioned being divorced once, and her photo album contained several early pictures of her with smoky eye makeup and a slang-filled hairstyle—she looked remarkably like my girlfriend from ten years ago when I was working on a project in Chongqing.

There was also a summer photo that showed a flamboyant dahlia on her ankle, like a black flame that had been burning in my heart since yesterday. I looked at the photo and realized that the appointed time was approaching, and my heart was beating even faster... A sudden, urgent knocking on the door interrupted my thoughts. Oh my god, I hadn't thought of an opening line yet, and they're already here? I opened the door, and a petite figure darted in. I was taken aback. "Why didn't you ring the doorbell?" She didn't answer, but just glanced at me with her large, clear eyes, then smiled charmingly, as if to say, "I like it..." She casually picked up the coffee I had just made, put it to her lips, and playfully looked me up and down from above the cup. Seeing how relaxed she was, my initial nervousness vanished. Anyway, we're out having fun, so we should enjoy ourselves to the fullest. I lay down on the sofa, lit a cigarette, and looked her up and down carefully. She was wearing a black baseball cap backwards, a black sweater, and a black down vest. Between her black skinny jeans and black loafers, a section of her fair ankle was visible, and a bright red anklet was quite eye-catching.

The rising steam from her coffee blurred her face, revealing only the heavy black eyeliner and eyeshadow. A vibrant red lip peeked out from under the cup. Aside from these two red streaks, she was entirely black, like a nocturnal sprite who had barged into my room.

I coughed twice, clearing my throat, about to say something to break the silence, when she pulled out her phone, quickly typed a few words, and handed it to me. "E, I'm not talking." "What's wrong? Is your throat sore?" I asked.

Then she laughed, pointing to her mouth and shaking her head.

"Oh my god, are you...are you mute?"

She nodded, her smile widening.

In that instant, I felt a chord deep within my heart being violently plucked by an invisible hand. I'd never been intimate with a girl like this before; I'd only heard that people like this had some abilities that God took away from everyone else, but made them more sensitive in other areas, especially in touch. mylucky2014? ??

"Alright then, I won't say anything. Let's try eye contact, hehe, but I'm not very good at it," I said to her. "How about we listen to some music?" She shrugged, indicating she didn't mind, put down her coffee, made a shivering motion, and pointed to the bathroom, meaning to go take a shower, it's so cold.

I happily flashed an "OK" sign and quickly stripped myself naked. Looking back, I saw her bending over, lifting her leg to take off her underwear. Her full breasts swayed gently with the movement, making my heart flutter. I hadn't really noticed when she was clothed, but now I could see them clearly—I'd really struck gold!

The hot water from the showerhead created huge clumps of foam from the showerhead. She tried again and again to create bubbles between my chest and abdomen with her breasts, but always failed. So I had to endure the constant impact of a pair of enormous marshmallows. But they were so soft that with the slightest pressure, they would slide off my side and be pushed back by her arm, rubbing back and forth against my chest.

My attention was mostly focused on her tattoos. I really like girls with tattoos; they always give me a sense of wild beauty. She had eight! As my fingertips traced each tattoo on her body—back of her neck, upper arm, lower back, fingers, ankles—it felt like bolts of lightning striking my body, one by one, stirring up waves of desire.

This also made her notice my increasingly impressive little brother. She slowly knelt between my legs, carefully washing every crease of my penis, then tilting her head back, letting the water spray directly onto her face, slowly making my already perfectly saluted penis disappear into her mouth.

Until I reached a soft, protruding mound, I suddenly realized that it was her pharynx, which had lost its ability to speak. A huge wave of decadent pleasure surged up, and I almost lost control and ejaculated. That release of the dark side of humanity, that immoral desire that ravaged the weak and incomplete, must have distorted my face as well. Thankfully, her eyes were still tightly closed, and she couldn't see it.

The hot water gradually washed away the heavy makeup on her face. When I wiped away the last trace of black on her face, now as faint as hair, what appeared before me was the face of an innocent young girl. Although it lacked the impact and shock of a "photoshopped" face, it was pure and real. Especially when she was delicately sucking on my penis, my erect penis, with its veins swirling, lay across her nose, occasionally twitching as if gently slapping her cheek

. Looking down from above, the wicked beauty was beyond description. After a quick clean-up and a few snapshots, our two bodies, burning with desire, were joined together. She straddled my waist, gently rubbing her thighs against my drooping penis, while cupping her breasts in her hands and bringing them to my eyes, letting out two questioning "ah ah" sounds.

I knew she was asking if I liked it, so I nodded frantically while grabbing one breast in each hand and holding on tightly, alternating between my left and right hands to make the flesh slide back and forth between my fingers. I then used my thumbs to tease her delicate nipples, letting them pop out from between each finger and then pressing them back in. It felt like two marshmallows with a candy bean in each, rolling around in my palms, making my mouth water.

I didn't care anymore and took a big mouthful, slowly sucking in most of her breast. Maybe my stubble tickled her, because she kept laughing the whole way. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore and fell onto me, pressing her other breast against my face. I didn't catch my breath for a full minute and almost passed out.

At the crucial moment, my big cock stood up, and she immediately let go of me, retreating between my legs. She began to suck and lick with gusto, and after a few thrusts, she took the entire glans into her mouth, her tongue moving up and down like a motor, while her other hand restlessly roamed over my anus. "Hold, hold, I love fucking a girl's anus, but I can't stand being fucked!" I quickly lifted her head, pointed to my bag, meaning I should get a condom.

She shook her head, with that seductive, wicked smile, and began to roam over my legs. I thought she hadn't had enough, so I let her continue. But when she reached my earlobe, her vulva was perfectly positioned for my big cock. Without the slightest hesitation, she placed her hands on my shoulders, adjusted them slightly, and I felt my big cock slide down a muddy patch into a warm little nest. Damn, no condom!

Strangely, my first feeling wasn't fear, but rather gratitude. Seriously, how much trust must there be to go through something like this? In a moment

of impulsiveness, I didn't care anymore. So what if I died? I'd just have some fun first. I inhaled, focused, tightened my grip on her waist, and began thrusting my abdomen, slowly at first, then faster. After about eight or nine minutes, I saw large patches of red flush spread across her body, starting from her chest. Her eyes closed, and her hands, which had been supporting my shoulders, gradually tightened, eventually gripping my arms to control herself.

My speed increased, and my strength grew stronger. Before, when she was giving me oral sex, I had almost come several times, managing to hold back. This time, I unleashed a torrent of thrusts, and without the condom, the pleasure intensified.

I saw her juices splattering everywhere from our joined bodies with each violent impact. Suddenly, a drop of white liquid, just as it trickled from the shaft, was wiped away by my rapid thrusting. I couldn't hold back any longer. I gripped her waist tightly, pushing my penis as deep as possible inside her, and then ejaculated violently.

She tossed her still-damp hair, letting out two intermittent moans, before collapsing onto the bed, unable to move. I wasn't much better off. Although it hadn't lasted long, I felt quite exhausted. Plus, the accumulated pleasure from the previous few bursts had made me groan a bit. That tingling, numb feeling was like a tidal wave, rushing from my head to my fingertips, toes, and then disappearing into nothingness, lingering for a long time... I put on Paganini's Capriccio 24 in A minor, and hugged her from behind, still limp. I slowly came to my senses, and my left hand reached under her to her front, feeling her heavy breasts. My fingers drew random circles on them, while my right hand roamed over her body. So soft! Girls are naturally made of water, it's true. Warm, smooth, soft as jade, boneless, and fragrant.

A moment later, she took my hand and led it to her garden. The battlefield hadn't been cleaned up yet, and I could clearly feel the wetness. She picked up one of my fingers, dipped it in her love juice, and smeared it back and forth on my now limp and shriveled penis, trying to revive it. Then that deadly wicked smile crept onto her lips again. I realized I'd really fallen into the trap this time, but it was one I'd willingly chosen.

After cleaning up, it was my turn to take the initiative. I had her lie on the bed and kissed my way down her neck. The dark, heavy stitches on her waist, somewhere between an OS and a TT style, were my favorite. When I held her arms and rocked them back and forth, it felt like a vampire bat was clinging to her waist, ready to take flight at any moment.

I mounted her again, looking down at the flat plain from behind. I noticed how slender her waist was, almost too delicate to be grasped. From her thin shoulders, the flowing curve suddenly expanded into a full, firm, rounded buttocks. With each thrust, waves of flesh rippled outwards, creating beautiful ripples.

I held her hips with both hands, like driving a supercar, and my constant thrusting was like fueling the supercar, propelling it towards victory.

It's worth mentioning that each time my penis was withdrawn, her tender labia blossomed like a vibrant peony, layer upon layer. A thin membrane wrapped around the shaft was pulled out, and when I thrust in, I could watch the pink and dark red petals disappear one by one into the deep darkness. The entire tender, moist flesh was as red and luscious as if painted with rouge, exquisitely beautiful.

With frequent thrusting, the clear love fluid that had seeped from her opening became increasingly sticky and thick, until it turned from light to dark, transforming into a latex-like white fluid. This fluid was then constantly stirred by the shaft, occasionally releasing a tiny bubble or two. Accompanying this scene was the "glug, glug" sound of the thrusting in the fluid, like the drums of a battle, urging my large penis to charge forward again and again.

Reaching the height of my excitement, I had her reach behind her buttocks, parting the flesh that was completely soaked with sweat and vaginal fluid. Seeing her round, tender anus like a small mouth constantly closing, my emotions grew even more intense. It felt as if my large penis had been filled with molten iron; it was not only frighteningly hard but also frighteningly hot.

So I knelt behind her, adjusted the angle of insertion to be closer to a top-down direction, and thrust in with all my might, penetrating to the hilt. Her plump buttocks sank down gradually as I relentlessly fucked them, only to be lifted up again by my waist, then pressed down again, repeating this cycle endlessly. She could only support herself on the bed with half a shoulder and forehead, her disheveled hair completely obscuring her beautiful face. I could only imagine the painful yet pleasurable look on her face, savoring the occasional low moans that drifted through the thick sheets.

As the movements intensified, I suddenly felt her soft vagina gradually warming up, as if it were constantly increasing its elasticity, until it tightly gripped my shaft. I could feel every inch of her tender flesh, filled with endless longing, expressing its tender reluctance to part.

Each time I thrust in to the deepest point, it felt like I'd reached the limit, yet there was a urge to go even deeper. Fine beads of sweat began to seep from her buttocks, and the love fluid squeezed out from our point of contact, which had started as a trickle, became a torrent, cool and slippery, wetting my scrotum with each fierce thrust of my testicles, even soaking the sheets. I hadn't seen this scene in years; it felt like I was back in my youth.

Almost instantly, orgasm descended upon her. Her hands, which had been gripping her round, full buttocks to allow me to penetrate deeper, now stretched forward, frantically clutching the sheets. From her white knuckles, I could tell how hard she was trying. Her face, which had been buried deep just moments before, suddenly jerked her head back violently, her long hair flying. Her waist was still firmly pressed against the bed, her buttocks still high, her whole body in an inverted S-shape, as I continued to thrust into her heavily at the peak of her orgasm.

Her delicate, breathy breaths, which sent shivers down my spine, instantly filled the room. Although she tried her best to suppress this blissful, cloud-like pleasure, she was powerless to do so.

And her low moans sounded like heavenly music to my ears. I clearly remember that for a moment, I took a deep breath, pulled my waist in a wide arc, and thrust forward. That thrust was a bit too forceful, like a red-hot sword stabbing her heart. Her neck, which had just curved into a beautiful arc, was severed again. I seemed to hear a scream from the depths of her soul in my ear. To make matters worse, another blow followed. The intense dizziness and wave-like pleasure completely stunned her. Her scream was cut short, disappearing cleanly from her throat like a knife. The final, final blow was like a red-hot iron fork, piercing the tender spine of a silver cod. I distinctly heard countless sharp sounds, like shattering glass, echoing from deep within my heart, converging through every cell and forming a long sigh that slipped from my lips.

Looking at her again, her entire body seemed like crushed flower petals, melting onto the bed. Between her high, firm buttocks, my engorged penis was still inserted, throbbing violently with each ejaculation, twitching like an electric shock. Her once pink labia had now swelled to a deep red, infinitely alluring. With a "pop," I pulled out my still-erect penis, like opening a champagne bottle. A stream of pure white fluid, mixed with yellowish semen, flowed from her swollen vulva, carrying a pungent, erotic scent that permeated the entire room.

I collapsed onto the bed, embracing her from behind, spreading her legs wide like jade fans. Her tattooed, delicate foot was raised high, her still incredibly wet vulva slightly protruding. I pressed down on her other thigh, which lay flat on the bed, and reached out my left hand, groping around to her clitoris, lifting my still-tired penis and placing it at her entrance, gently rubbing it back and forth. Her raised thighs were round and full, her calves long and straight. Holding her in my arms, they opened and closed against my chest with each thrust of my hips, the feeling like rowing a boat on her body—incredibly pleasurable. A wave of drowsiness washed over me, and I drifted off to sleep… I drew back the curtains; the city lights were already on, and in the distance, I could vaguely see the colorful neon lights of Hong Kong.

A text message from an unknown number arrived on my phone: “Don’t contact me by phone, ^^”

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Springtime without end

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