The other side of the hostess

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

A few years ago, Yang Wei brought Aying home from the mountains. Back then, Aying wasn't nearly as voluptuous as she is now; she was thin and flat-chested.
Xuehui was incredibly picky about the nannies who cared for Ke'er, finding fault with everything. She went through several, but none satisfied her. Yang Wei, full of complaints, said, "It's not like I'm choosing a wife, why are you being so picky?" Unexpectedly, this offended her. Her eyebrows furrowed, and her cheerful expression vanished instantly. She bit her lip with her white teeth, and it took a while for her tense expression to relax, leaving a row of neat, fresh teeth marks on her lips. For several days, she didn't give him a kind look, and even in bed, she faced him with her bare back.
Yang Wei dared not delay. Upon hearing that someone had recommended a relative who could work in the city, he personally went to the mountains. He finally managed to bring the girl out from deep within the dense forest. At this moment, beads of sweat were still dripping from Yang Wei's forehead. He took off his gold-rimmed glasses, breathed on his eyes twice, wiped the glasses with a fine white handkerchief, and then quickly wiped the sweat from his forehead. He waited anxiously for Xuehui's decision.
Like many residences in the city, the living room is accessible through a spacious hallway after entering the house. Everything inside is bright and gleaming white; the ceiling has faint patterns, and the dark red floor gleams, reflecting one's shadow. The living room is spotless and tidy; even the brass nails holding the paintings seem to smile. A rectangular green rug is laid in the center, upon which sit two very large armchairs. On the coffee table by the window is a porcelain vase containing a bunch of light red carnations and white night-blooming jasmine, emitting a faint, refreshing fragrance.
Aying stood frozen in the living room, trembling with fear and unease, unsure of what to do. Yang Wei had already told her on the way there that the lady of the house, Xuehui, was very picky. She had already tried several people—old, middle-aged, and even young girls her age—but they all quit after only a few days without any reason. Actually, their family was very simple, just the husband and wife and their little girl. When the child was younger, Xuehui didn't work and took care of her herself. Now that she's in kindergarten, they're thinking of hiring a nanny. Yang Wei believes he's too busy with work to take care of the family, and his wife is too lonely and wants a companion who can also help with housework.
Aying timidly observed the woman of the house. Xuehui was intently painting her toenails with scarlet paint, one leg raised high in front of her face. The hem of her nightgown flared up to her thigh, revealing Aying's bright red panties underneath.
Ah Ying had never seen such smooth and delicate thighs before. They were slender, narrow, and long, silky and lustrous yet plump, with no visible bones. The whiteness of her toenails surprised Ah Ying even more; they were shiny, finely trimmed into almond shapes, gleaming with a bluish sheen, the tips soft and rounded with a pearly sheen. She concentrated, coquettishly pursing her lips, gently exhaling a breath that stirred her crimson nails, as vibrant as bright red plum blossoms. She tried desperately to close the distance between her toes and her toes, arching her back even more and raising her legs higher, pressing them against her chest, compressing her round, full breasts and making them appear even more full and plump.
Xue Hui finally raised her face, carefully examining her: "The young lady is quite pretty, and neat and tidy. Hey, quickly tell her to rest." Her voice was clear and light, carrying a hint of ambiguity.
Ah Ying then dared to look at her. Her eyes were dark, bright, and full of life, burning with a fiery passion. Above them, her velvety black eyebrows curved gracefully like a bow. Her rosy face was like the most beautiful blooming flower, and her berry-red lips were slightly parted, revealing bright white teeth like pearls. Ah Ying was captivated by her beauty.
Yang Wei breathed a long sigh of relief and led Ah Ying to a room: "This is for you and your sister. From now on, Sister Hui will teach you what to do and how to do it."
As if entering a fairytale world, Ah Ying suddenly felt that happiness had arrived so unexpectedly. Such a clean, bright, and charming room—how could the designer have imagined such whimsical decorations? Ah Ying was so busy curiously looking around the room that she didn't even notice when Yang Wei left. Two beds were placed side-by-side, and one wall was converted into a wardrobe. Ah Ying opened it; half of it was filled with little girls' clothes, while the other half was empty, presumably for her. She glanced at the pitifully small bag she had brought, which clearly couldn't fill the spacious wardrobe.
Just then, Xue Hui entered, carrying a large pile of clothes, which she threw onto the bed: "Take off all your clothes and throw this away. From now on, wear these. I like girls to always be dressed up nicely; it makes them look more energetic."
Ah Ying glanced sideways at the clothes, almost shouting with excitement. She nodded obediently, her heart filled with gratitude, and said, "Sister Hui, you're so good to me."
"Silly child, anyone Sister Hui takes a liking to will treat you like a little sister." Xuehui smiled sweetly, then said, seemingly unintentionally yet with a hidden agenda, "As long as you're obedient and sensible, that's fine."
Aying nodded vigorously, like a chicken pecking at millet. By this time, Yang Wei had already picked the little girl up from kindergarten. Being a city child, she was fair-skinned and clever. Even at such a young age, she had learned from adults to draw her eyebrows, apply makeup, and wear bright lipstick, making her already fair and smooth face even more pretty and adorable. Before long, she became familiar with Aying and whispered in her ear, "My aunts and mommies used to think I was too plain and didn't dress pretty enough."
Yang Wei cooked dinner. There weren't many dishes, but they were all things Aying had never eaten before and were very delicious. Xuehui put a lot of food on Aying's plate. Ke'er could already sit at the table by herself without being fed and was trying hard to tame the chopsticks in her hands.
Xuehui handed the crab roe from the plate to Yang Wei and casually asked, "How's my brother's matter going?"
"Didn't he go to the mountains today? It'll be done tomorrow," Yang Wei replied. "I don't trust anyone else to handle it. Why didn't your brother come over?"
"He came, but he's still lazing in bed," Ke'er chimed in.
Xuehui gently patted her and said, "Don't talk nonsense, just eat your food."
That night, Aying lay on the snow-white sheets, covered with a silk quilt, too excited to fall asleep. The moonlight seemed to carry a hint of warmth, warming her face like nestled in soft fur. She stretched her arms out from under the covers, basking in the moonlight, which was even more pleasant than basking in the sun, making her skin slightly itchy and her heart throb with joy.
She got up and tried on all the clothes Xuehui had given her. Some of them were worn, apparently Xuehui's, and although they were a bit too big for her, they were still acceptable.
She slowly walked to the dressing mirror, opened her eyes wide, and examined her naked body. Her snow-white, rounded shoulders, long legs, shapely, firm breasts, and slender waist—every part covered by clothing was outlined with exquisite curves, displaying flawless beauty. However, Aying felt it was too revealing; some clothes exposed not only her shoulders but also her back, and some left her chest exposed, inadvertently revealing her breasts. Although Aying's breasts weren't particularly full, everything was visible.
Actually, Xuehui's family was very simple; it was just washing, cleaning, and picking up the children. Within a few days, Aying had gotten used to it and did it quite well. Soon, she had become part of their family. She even took charge of many important items in the house. Ke'er would consult her for everything, Yang Wei would often ask her where her tie was, and Xuehui couldn't live without her. Even her underwear and bra—those little women's toys—were carefully put away by Aying.
Gradually, Aying got used to everything. She got used to wearing revealing clothes, using face powder and rouge, and strolling around the house in a sheer nightgown like Xuehui. She got used to dressing up in various ways for the market, kindergarten, and other places. She had completely integrated into city life and into Xuehui's family life. With her still somewhat immature eyes, she keenly sensed Xuehui's position in the family, and she obeyed her every word and was loyal to her.
After dinner was the busiest time of Aying's day. Ke'er wanted to take a bath, so Aying had already filled the tub with water for her to play in, and she would dress her later. The washing machine was churning with the family's clothes. Aying was clearing the table while keeping her ears open, ready for Xuehui's call. Yang Wei was in the living room, watching a TV program that even Aying didn't want to watch.
Taking a quick break, Aying went to the bathroom in Xuehui's bedroom to collect the clothes Xuehui had changed out of. Xuehui was still immersed in the warm water of the bathtub, too lazy to even open her eyes. When she took a bath, she always had hallucinations and inspiration flowed like a spring, a result of excessive physical liberation. Aying then picked up the women's toys that Xuehui had scattered on the floor. When she picked up the panties with only a few straps, she couldn't help but mutter, "Wearing this is the same as not wearing anything at all."
"What do you know, little girl? This is for men to see." Saying that, she stood up from the tub. Aying quickly grabbed a bathrobe, unfolded it, and waited to wrap it around her as she stepped out of the tub. However, she ignored her and stood naked in front of the dressing table mirror, admiring herself. She made no secret of her alluring and sexy body, with long, full, and shapely thighs and a beautifully curved bottom, a slightly protruding belly, a slender waist, and high, firm breasts. She raised her hands high above her head.
Aying noticed that the pubic hair between Xuehui's legs stood out prominently, plump and round like a ripe peach. She couldn't help but lower her eyes and realize how flat her own legs were. At that moment, Xuehui turned around and said coquettishly, "What are you staring at? Go check on Ke'er." Aying snapped out of her daze, grabbed a pile of clothes
, and went out. In the living room, Yang Wei was laughing heartily at the television. Despite his respectable appearance as the general manager of a financial institution, always chauffeured to and from work, and always imposing and stern when his colleagues visited, he couldn't muster any authority at home.
His cheeks were ruddy, his face downcast. He appeared weak and delicate, but his features were unusual. His physique was slender and upright; he didn't seem strong and powerful, but rather gentle. His face was always lost in thought, pale and bloodless. Aying thought that a man like that probably wouldn't be able to put on a good show in bed. She always wondered why someone as pretty as Xuehui ended up with Yang Wei. Xuehui had a wild heart, Aying knew this from the first moment she saw her, and just like the people in the mountains said, she was all flesh and blood, unable to resist a man's teasing, becoming wanton and wanton once touched.
At night, when the couple didn't go out, they would go to bed not too late, but it was still quite late compared to when Aying lived in the mountains. That's how it is in the city, with neon lights flashing and dazzling lights everywhere at night, sometimes even when they were already asleep, they would be called out by the phone.
At first, Aying often couldn't stay awake, her eyelids would be drooping before Ke'er even wanted to sleep, but now she also learned to watch TV series, even if it meant staying up very late. Sometimes, Xuehui's wanton laughter would drift from their room. Every night, they seemed to be endlessly tormenting each other. Xuehui's moans sometimes mingled with screams, which often tormented Aying, causing her to have vivid and sensual dreams at night.
The night fog slowly thinned, like a flowing transparent substance. The east began to lighten, and a floating, veil-like mist enveloped the entire city. The city's buildings and trees appeared and disappeared indistinctly. You couldn't see their entirety, yet in places where the fog cleared, the outlines of buildings and trees were vaguely visible. The fog changed shape with its varying thickness, like a mirage.
Yang Wei arrived at the rooftop early. Years of working had instilled in him the habit of going to bed early and waking up early. Even on his days off, he wouldn't linger in the warm bed, even though Xuehui desperately wanted him by her side.
The rooftop, which he had cultivated for many years, was his daily morning haunt. He chose this top floor precisely because he could create such an environment on the rooftop—a place adorned with vibrant colors, covered in lush greenery, and bursting with various flowers: apricot, scarlet, dark red, magenta, and golden yellow—a riot of colors, climbing and cascading, stretching for dozens of meters, clusters and clusters extending endlessly. He couldn't help but sigh, "A prosperous age like flowers, springtime like a painting; who wouldn't want to capture a corner of spring's warmth, treasure it in their own love nest, and let life grow brighter and more joyful?"
Yang Wei spent his days here, admiring and appreciating the flowers. The red blossoms and green leaves soothed his skin, washing away the worries and anxieties of the world. His mind was clear and refreshed during his visit. Around him, amidst the verdant willows and blooming flowers, on that rooftop where flowers vied for attention, the fresh, fiery morning light flowed.
At first, it was bright red, then deep red, then golden yellow. Everything was moving, awakening, clamoring, singing, and speaking. Everywhere, large dewdrops shone red like brilliant diamonds. The clear, bright sound of bells, as if washed by the morning coolness, came towards him. Only at this time would Yang Wei reluctantly go downstairs. It was time for work, and his car would already be waiting for him below.
Yang Wei was the kind of person who was mature beyond his years and followed the rules meticulously. Although he was not yet middle-aged, he was already a pivotal figure in the local financial world. Under his years of hard work, his business flourished and developed rapidly, which also caused him to lose a lot of hair and become bald prematurely, leaving only a few scattered strands around his head. He deliberately preserved them, even to the point of cherishing them. He always took great care of them, combing them neatly and obediently to his head. Seeing even a single hair in one spot made him feel as if his heart was bleeding. This made him look even more refined and gentle.
The room was decorated extremely luxuriously and elegantly, with all the furniture being original imports, exquisitely crafted, and looking comfortable and cozy. Yang Wei, dressed neatly, quietly left home. Xuehui wouldn't get up until noon. Since Aying came, she could do whatever she wanted without worrying about Ke'er and him anymore.
Moreover, Aying trusted Xuehui completely and was infinitely loyal to her. She not only carried out the tasks Xuehui assigned her in an orderly manner, but also understood Xuehui's meaning before she even had to say a word. Xuehui entrusted her with all the housework. Aying cooked for her and knew her tastes. She tidied the room for her, never forgetting her shirts or socks. She knew Xuehui's key and the hidden lock, but she never touched them carelessly.
You have to understand how Ah Ying viewed Xue Hui. Ah Ying held her mistress in such high esteem and trust that she believed only a madman would contradict Xue Hui. She considered everything Xue Hui thought correct, everything she said reasonable, everything Xue Hui commanded to be done, and everything Xue Hui wanted to accomplish, always achieving surprising results. Even if you chopped Ah Ying into pieces, her opinion of Xue Hui would never change. The moment Ah Ying
opened the door, she knew something was wrong; someone had indeed entered while she was out selling vegetables.
Ah Ying's intuition was always incredibly sharp. Back in her mountain home, she could sense someone stealing fruit from the orchards. Her father and brother, after patrolling the mountains, confirmed Ah Ying's extraordinary ability. Word spread, and whenever a family in the village lost chickens, ducks, pigs, or sheep, they would ask Ah Ying, and she would almost always help them find them. This ability wasn't based on sight, smell, or hearing, but on a spiritual connection.
There was something no one knew: Ah Ying was even more astute about matters of the heart. In the quiet of the night, she knew which young men and women were flirting in the fields, which widows were welcoming men into their homes, which old men were having affairs with their wives, and which brothers-in-law were taking advantage of their sisters-in-law. She knew it all perfectly well, but she couldn't speak of these things, so no one else knew.
Ah Ying quietly closed the stainless steel door, then cautiously surveyed the room again. She saw that Xue Hui's bedroom door was ajar, and from inside came faint chuckles and a deep, husky male voice that sounded somewhat familiar. Ah Ying held her breath, tiptoed to the wall, and, not daring to peek inside, strained her ear to the narrow crack in the door. She heard Xue Hui's soft voice: "You've aroused me so much, I have no energy left."
"I love this kind of seductive behavior, little sister," the man said with a smile.
“You can’t just keep licking like this. Look how much fluid she’s produced for you, you should get up and do something else,” Xuehui said dreamily.
“What do you want me to do for you?” the man teased.
“I want you to give me that wonderful rod, I want you to ravage me.” Xuehui’s voice was hoarse with urgency. “Can’t you see I’m all wet?”
"Here it comes, here it comes, see what I've shown my sister." A soft creak, like a gentle breeze ruffling a pool of spring water, followed by rustling sounds. The sounds grew from slow to fast, gradually intensifying, like waves crashing against a cliff, or river water lapping against a boat's side. Interspersed were Xuehui's soft moans and a man's heavy breathing.
Aying knew what was happening inside. Her legs seemed rooted to the spot, unable to move. Her heart felt a ticklish, tingling sensation, and her face burned. She involuntarily squeezed her thighs together tightly, and then a cool sensation appeared on the tips of her thighs.
Xuehui's moans rose and fell like a gentle breeze across a lush green meadow, with scattered sheep grazing and lambs bleating—like a soft, melodious tune being sung. Intermittently lively and spirited, the music sang like a few thrushes singing on a branch. Gradually, the melody softened, like the receding tide, the clear moonlight, and the stillness of a sandbar, the lingering notes faint and indistinct.
Although Ah Ying looked young, she was quite familiar with matters between men and women. The local customs and slang of the mountain village, the various gatherings and resting places in the fields—these were all about witty banter to relieve fatigue. This kind of talk stimulated the cerebral cortex of the still-developing young people, providing early enlightenment and guidance on their desires.
Anyone eloquent and smooth-talking could freely play the role; this expressive game, closely intertwined with daily life, endured and was passed down through generations. In the village, there was an inexplicable and unbearable atmosphere of playful mischief between men and women.
Touching, embracing, and laughing together were all perfectly normal in their eyes, nothing shameful. Normally, whenever there was free time, even just walking or crossing a bridge, one could hear shrill laughter and curses. Especially those older women or married women, who were incredibly flirtatious; if they married this year, they'd dare to work with their clothes down the following summer. The girls a little older than Aying, though not participating, would giggle and watch with relish, their faces never blushing.
"Ah, brother, you're driving me crazy!" Xuehui cried out joyfully.
"Enough, right? Enough, right?" the man said happily. Then came even more powerful thrusts, as if a suppressed passion had suddenly been invigorated, bursting forth in ecstasy.
"Enough, enough, I can't take it, I can't hold on, I want to fly, I want to float, float!" Xuehui's voice rose in a drunken frenzy, struggling upwards, soaring to the peak of intertwined desire, then sinking back down, relaxing and dissipating.
Ah Ying gasped for breath, trying to suppress her excitement. Her throat was parched, and a feverish heat emanated from her body. She knew her underwear was soaked through, like a baby wetting itself.
The sounds in the room didn't cease for a moment. The voices of the man and woman seemed like two forces, two intoxicated lives, struggling in unbridled ecstasy to possess each other. They yearned for the eternal and absolute, embracing each other in their longing.
The man's heavy breathing was like a farmer, slightly drunk, staggering along the road, shouting to tell the world of his triumph.
The woman's soft, resonant humming, filled with fervent joy, was like a young girl, overflowing with spring love, running into the fields, singing passionately to the wind, the earth, the clear sky, and to her own overjoyed heart. A feeling of sinking into the abyss of sublime desire welled up, overflowing with liberation and satisfaction, appearing repeatedly, emitting contented groans, greedily repeating itself, then receding like the tide, seemingly exhausted, only to reappear once more in its melody, until the last breath was exhaled, death, vanishing, dissipating, a deep silence descending.
Aying fled into her room, letting out a long, muffled sigh, her eyes widening as she stared blankly at the blazing sun. Gradually, she felt dizzy, collapsing onto the bed, curling up in a ball, pulling the covers over her head and face, letting her heart pound and her blood surge. She pressed her face against the thin silk of the blanket, receiving the cool, slippery feel of the fabric as if saved. Only when Xuehui knocked on her door did she peek out from under the covers.
Xuehui sat on the edge of her bed, her face weary, like a flower ravaged by a storm, yet her eyes sparkled with a contented allure. Her long, glossy black hair, casually combed, added to her charm. The thin white silk robe she wore was densely woven with silver stars, its elegant pleats revealing her sculpted figure, sometimes even glimpsed through the fabric.
Xuehui stroked her hair and asked, "What did you see just now?"
Aying bit her lip, remaining silent. Xuehui then stroked her cheek and said, "I saw it, I didn't want to hide it from you, but you can't talk about it."
Touched by Xuehui's intimate caress, Aying's eyes welled up with tears, which spilled uncontrollably. She nodded firmly. Ah Ying, quick-witted and eloquent, knew how to express her gratitude for Xue Hui's trust: "As long as you're happy, Sister Hui, I'll do anything you ask."
Xue Hui smiled reassuredly: "Ah Ying is so good. I treat you like my own sister."
"Sister Hui, he's your brother." After a long pause, Ah Ying finally managed to say it.
Xue Hui smiled sweetly, her eyes filled with longing: "I only love my brother. I wouldn't even look at other men."

[The End]

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The other side of the hostess

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