They look like a married couple

page views:1 Publication date:2023-04-20 08:16:40

When I woke up, she was still fast asleep, lying naked beside me. I gently covered her with the blanket, then quietly washed up and changed.
I had bought breakfast at the supermarket last night, and I casually ate some cereal mixed with milk. Watching her sleep, her fair shoulders were exposed, and there was a strawberry I had bitten on her neck yesterday, a pale pink, like a flower blooming on her neck.
"A flower on the neck,"
she said last night when she was looking in the mirror, a lame joke that made me, an old man, burst into laughter because the joke was so corny. Thinking of this, I couldn't help but smile, and without waking her, I went out. After
a long day at work, I returned home, and as soon as I unlocked the door, I saw her wearing the sleeveless cotton shirt and underwear I had bought last night, sitting on the double sofa reading my book, completely engrossed, unaware that I was home.
I didn't know what to call her, because she hadn't even told me her name before we started living together. I could only say, "I'm back."
She was biting her nails, engrossed in her mystery novel, which annoyed me a little, but on the other hand, I found her absorbed in her book incredibly cute.
I took a clean, empty wine bottle from the recycling bin she'd prepared for me by the counter, silently walked over to her, patted her on the shoulder, and said, "Hey, I'm back."
She jumped in surprise and turned around, and I noticed she was wearing my airtight headphones. She took them off, flashed a bright smile, and said, "Uncle!"
We'd agreed to go out for dinner together on Friday night, which was why she was so leisurely reading here. I crawled over to her, took the book from her hand, and said, "What? You ignored me when I came back?"
She innocently picked up her earphones, about to explain, when I seized the opportunity to grab her hand and pull down her panties. Seeing the empty bottle in my hand, she looked enlightened with a half-smile, then lay down on the sofa, spreading her legs and saying in a seductive voice, "Uncle wants something exciting, huh?"
I shrugged, inserting my index finger into her vagina. It was already completely wet. I spat and said, "So lewd."
She smiled wickedly, and I inserted the bottle into her vagina, thrusting in and out without letting up, showing no mercy.
She should have felt pain, but she didn't. To my surprise, her vaginal fluids kept flowing out, even into the bottle. I said gruffly, "Drink it all later!"
She laughed, panting, "Okay, drink all the fluids, ah, so good, again, I love you, Uncle, you're so rough!"
I pulled the bottle out and shoved it into her mouth. She started sucking on the bottle, looking like a drunkard. I quickly pulled down my pants, grabbed my penis, and shoved it into her vagina.
With her legs wide open, one hand holding the bottle and sucking, she looked at me. I frantically thrust between her legs, pressing against her vulva.
The only sounds in the room were the "slap slap" of sex and the woman's moans.
I ejaculated completely inside her and then stayed inside her for a while without pulling out.
She put down the bottle, covered in sweat, and hugged my back, gently stroking me through my shirt. I moved up a little, panting on top of her.
"It's so hot, why did you climb up here?" she said, but her arms moved in the opposite direction, completely embracing me. The room was indeed very hot, and with what we had just done, we were both covered in sweat.
"What do you want to eat when we go out for dinner?" I asked.
"I don't know, I'm so tired, let's rest for a bit?" she said, snuggling closer to me.
Haha, like a married couple.
I thought to myself, but that was all I thought.

We went out without showering, dressed very casually; she was even wearing flip-flops. I had originally planned to take her to a fancy steakhouse, but she said a simple dumpling place would be fine. She just wanted to eat out with me and take a walk.
So I suggested that after dinner, we walk to a nearby DVD store to rent a movie to watch at home, and she cheered with both hands in agreement.
We walked hand in hand, just like a couple. After ordering at the restaurant, I casually handed her my wallet and said, "Go pay the bill." Then I turned to get cutlery and napkins.
I stole a glance at her as she stood behind the counter, opened my wallet, and indifferently scanned it. My ID card was right there, with my name on it, but she just glanced at it lightly, without even blinking.
"Uncle, things around here are pretty cheap," she said as she returned to her seat, not calling my name, because she hadn't even noticed.
We finished our meal like that. As we left the restaurant, she took my hand. My hand stiffened for a moment, wanting to let go, but after a pause, I held onto hers.
On the way to the DVD store, we passed a fairly large community park. I held her hand, walking side by side. I glanced back; she wasn't tall, only reaching my chest.
At the park entrance, I finally couldn't control myself. A nameless rage and sexual urge surged within me. In a secluded spot, I forced her into the disabled toilet in the community park and slammed the door shut.
"Is this a rape game?" she asked as I roughly undressed her.
“Then you should act even more terrified.”
I covered her mouth tightly with my fingers, and she actually cooperated by biting my fingers, even drawing blood. I was about to let go, wondering if my joke had gone too far, when I saw her give a faint, contemptuous smile.
Encouraged by that smile, I became even more aggressive, turning her face to the wall, her buttocks towards me. Without any foreplay, I thrust straight in.
This time she wasn't as wet as before.
I wanted to stop, but then I remembered this seemed to be the essence of a rape game, so I thrust even more violently.
“Please…stop…ah, not there, not there!”
I knew I had hit her G-spot, so I thrust even harder, and she went from being completely dry to having her crotch overflowing with vaginal fluid.
“You slutty woman, even being raped makes you happy!” I grabbed her waist, thrusting repeatedly into her.
“Ah, ah, I'm so slutty and shameless!” she moaned, her fingernails white as she pressed against the wall.
I shoved her forcefully against the mirror in front of the sink and said, "See yourself in the mirror? You're being raped by me, being fucked hard, but you're still looking like you're enjoying it!"
Then I stopped. She in the mirror was indeed enjoying herself, but her face was streaked with tears.
"Why are you crying?" I asked, looking down at her.
"It looks so real! Hurry up and fuck me!!! You're such a killjoy, old man!!!" she complained, turning to me.
My penis immediately went limp, and I pulled it out of her body, silently pulling up my pants.
She also fell silent, standing there disheveled, watching my sudden impotence. She said nothing and quietly put on her clothes.
We left the disabled restroom together.
"Want to rent a movie?" she asked, turning to me, but this time she didn't offer her hand.
"Mmm." I took her hand. Her fingers were a little cold. The moment I took hers, she gripped mine tightly, and I gripped hers even tighter.
In the mirror, I saw her tear-streaked face and my own wild smile, so natural and ecstatic, so natural it frightened me, made me weak, and I could no longer do it to her like that.

We went home in silence. She bought some desserts at a nearby convenience store. Just as I was about to put on the rented DVD, I suddenly felt a cool sensation on the back of my neck. I reached up to touch it, but she grabbed my hand.
She started licking the back of my neck, which felt incredibly good. Her tongue caressed and licked every vertebra of my neck.
"Okay, you can turn your head now," she said with a smile.
I turned my head and saw that she was holding a can of whipped cream. I smiled and said, "Did you just buy this?"
She nodded proudly.
"Do you still want to watch the DVD?" I asked.
“Look, why not?” She squeezed whipped cream onto her hand, smeared it on my face, and laughed, “Shave while you’re at it.”
I was both amused and exasperated, and could only put down the CD in my hand, sit there, and let her continue licking my cheeks. Her breath was very, very close to mine, her tongue was very long, and she especially loved licking my stubble.
With a woman constantly licking my cheeks, I finally couldn’t resist and reached out to hug her waist. She gently pulled down her shorts and maliciously whispered in my ear, “Want some dessert?”
I laughed, wiped my face clean, and then took off all her clothes. I didn’t have any clothes of my own.
She lay naked on the sofa, her posture disheveled, remote control in hand, looking like she was about to watch a DVD. "What movie did we rent today? Oh, I think it's something unsuitable for children, R-rated? A zombie movie?"
I didn't care about any of that. I shook the can of whipped cream in my hand and squeezed it onto her, onto her nipples and collarbone, and then I imitated her and licked it.
The whipped cream was so sweet.
She moaned softly, and I said, "You're such an ant, how can you eat such sweet whipped cream?"
She said with a hint of malice, "No way, the salt from your dried sweat mixed with the whipped cream does taste quite unique."
My cheeks instantly turned bright red. I was covered in sweat and cream, and she had licked me all over. What did a little bit of sweat matter to us two perverts who would use each other's urine for arousal? But I just felt ashamed.
She saw me blush and laughed, saying, "That's right, exactly. Why don't you dilute it a little before licking? Older people are afraid of high cholesterol." So she smeared some whipped cream from her collarbone onto her vulva.
I noticed her vulva was all glistening; it turned out her juices had been flowing non-stop, covered in whipped cream.
"Come lick me?" she pointed to her vulva, which now truly deserved the name, completely covered in sweet whipped cream.
But I didn't lick her. I simply pulled down my pants, and when her vulva was covered in whipped cream, I forcefully inserted my penis into her vagina.
"Ah, ah, there's whipped cream there!" she cried out, but she kept squeezing whipped cream from her hands, as if trying to squeeze it all out. We were both covered in whipped cream. As
I fucked her, her hands were also covered in whipped cream; she would suck on them, then intertwine her tongue with mine. While I fucked her, I also used my tongue to lick the whipped cream from her wrists and between her fingers. Her vagina was as slippery as ever, and the whole room smelled of sweet whipped cream.
This would be difficult to clean.
This concern only flashed through my mind for a moment, because whipped cream wasn't just sweet; it clung to her, making her look like a soft, fluffy whipped cream cake.
I sped up, and her hips swayed back and forth with me. Our tongues didn't stop, licking each other incessantly.
Finally, I ejaculated inside her again, panting on her body. She licked the remaining whipped cream off me, and I laughed, stopping her. My hands were covered in cream as I stroked her hair, saying, "Stop licking! Shall we go take a shower and watch a DVD?"
She laughed, "Yeah, who wants half a cake?" Then she skipped into the bathroom.

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They look like a married couple

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