Women in the government compound

page views:1 Publication date:2023-07-04

I'm basically only interested in mature women. I used to like those in their thirties, forties, and fifties, but now I only feel attracted to women in their forties and fifties. However, I'm becoming more and more picky, choosing the best among the best. My attraction to mature women stems from their elegance, sophistication, and charm. Some are voluptuous, others slender, possessing a gentle, refreshing quality, like a fine, aged wine.
This time, I'm sharing about a woman from a government compound. She'll be retiring in a few years. We've quite a connection; our first encounter was in the government canteen supermarket.
Our deeper interaction came in the summer when several departments held a meeting about a central work project. That was the third time I met her. She was wearing trousers, high heels, and a white silk blouse—a perfect blend of a career woman and a wealthy lady. My blood immediately boiled. She was incredibly welcoming, sitting next to me with a notebook in her hand. Sometimes, when I deliberately glanced at her, I felt her eyes were full of spring water, and she always had a smile on her face. I would also deliberately glance at her occasionally, and she would immediately lower her eyes and smile shyly, avoiding my gaze.
After the meeting, we added each other on WeChat and started chatting frequently. Our relationship quickly warmed up, and I learned more about her. She was single and divorced, 53 years old, with a daughter in Zhejiang who came back every six months. She spent her free time learning photography with a group of classmates. Knowing all this, I felt a surge of excitement and decided to win her over. So, sometimes our chats became risqué, with risqué jokes and dirty talk. She pretended to be reserved, neither angry nor reciprocating, leaving me somewhat confused. One morning, I woke up early and, on a whim, left her a message saying, "I dreamt about you last night." Then I went about my business. She's a night owl, so she probably wouldn't see it. Sure enough, around noon, she sent a "haha" and asked what I dreamt about. I pretended to be serious and told her I had a youthful, impulsive dream. She sent a knocking emoji and said, "You're getting old, how can you be so lewd, flirting with me?" I laughed and said that dreams are a reflection of one's thoughts during the day, and I can't control them anyway. If I could, I'd have three such erotic dreams every day. She sent a series of messages. I then asked mysteriously, "Can I ask you a question?" She said, "I'm afraid it's not a good question." I smiled mischievously and said, "You've been single for so long, how do you usually take care of your needs?" She said, "I'm an old woman, I don't need anything anymore." I said, "I don't believe you. The last time I saw you, you were wearing trousers, and you looked incredibly sexy. You didn't seem like someone who didn't need anything." So I went into detail about the deep impression she left on me at the meeting, saying I liked how she looked in high heels, how much I liked how she looked in stockings in her photos, and how I hoped one day I could have her wearing stockings and high heels so I could play with her all day." I did use the word "play with," treating her like a work of art. She got anxious and said, "Am I a pervert?" I said, "Yes, I am a pervert. I like mature women with strong sexual desires and good skills." She said, "Do you often do this?" I said, "Yes, sometimes I'm so needy that I masturbate three or four times a night." She said, "Are you crazy?" I told her that seeing her made me want nothing else but her. She said it was a psychological problem and needed treatment, with an unapproachable air about her. I felt like I'd been rebuffed and was bored for days.
Things took a turn for the better when, late one night, she suddenly texted me asking if I was there. I was a little puzzled; she's usually quite reserved, so why was she texting so late? I deliberately paused for two minutes and asked what she wanted. She asked if I was asleep. I said no. She asked if I could help her install some computer software the next day. I said yes, and offered to bring it to my place. She said my house was a den of wolves and she didn't dare go there, and suggested her place instead. My heart immediately jumped to 160 beats per minute, and I readily agreed, then jokingly said, "Could you wear stockings and high heels tomorrow? I don't want to see you in those big slippers." Another barrage of criticism followed, calling me a pervert. I laughed and was so excited I couldn't sleep a wink all night.
The next morning, I found the old apartment complex in Zhushan District early using the GPS. When I went upstairs, the door was already ajar. As soon as I entered, she closed the door, probably to avoid being seen by the neighbors. While she was getting me slippers, I took a closer look and noticed that the woman was wearing a light pink silk short cheongsam and slippers, which made her skin appear incredibly white. Her plump arms and calves were almost dazzlingly white, and she had a slight bulge around her waist. She noticed me looking at her, lowered her eyelids, smiled gently, and quickly looked away. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, she led me to her bedroom to install software. Her home was clean and bright, with an understated luxury. The bedroom was large and had a pleasant fragrance. There was a computer desk and a piano stool on the east side, a large bed on the west side, and a window on the south side. Because it was summer, the room was particularly bright. After turning on the computer, I started installing software. I was a little reserved at first, but I relaxed and joked with her, and the atmosphere became relaxed and harmonious. She brought me a cup of tea, and I deliberately looked her up and down, then smiled mischievously and said, "Why aren't you wearing stockings and high heels? These slippers don't match your cheongsam at all." She stuck out her tongue and said, "It's so hot at home now, who wants to wear stockings and high heels? Don't think too much." I said, "These slippers don't match your elegant cheongsam at all. I thought I'd see you wearing high heels today, and it kept me up all night." She laughed and playfully hit me, saying, "Why do you young people have such strange ideas?" I seized the opportunity to grab her hand and said, "You should change them. These slippers are uncomfortable to look at." Unable to resist my shamelessness, she had no choice but to go outside, giving me a disapproving look at the door. I loudly declared, "I want black pointed-toe stilettos!" A few minutes later, while I was installing the software, I heard the clatter of high heels outside. My heart skipped a beat, and a wave of heat washed over me. Sure enough, I turned around and saw her awkwardly wearing a pair of black pointed-toe stilettos—exactly my type. I slowly stood up, probably speechless. She was practically a walking cheongsam! Although her upper body was slightly fuller, her calves looked incredibly slender and white in the heels. She was perfectly proportioned, with curves in all the right places. Her ample breasts made the cheongsam look even more stunning.
She covered her mouth and chuckled, saying, "Are you stunned?" I replied, "I'm completely out of it." She walked behind me with a seductive gait, watching me install the software. I told her the light outside was too bright, and I couldn't see the screen. She went over and pulled the curtains halfway. I suggested pulling them wider, and although she seemed reluctant, she closed them, leaving a small gap. The room suddenly darkened, and the atmosphere became intimately intimate. I deliberately moved aside, letting her sit next to me. The piano bench wasn't too long or too short; we both squeezed in, each sitting with half our buttocks against her. While explaining the installation instructions, I was also trying to find an opportunity to observe her using the mouse. I placed my hand on hers to demonstrate. She blushed and kept her eyes glued to the screen. Suddenly, it became very quiet, except for the sound of the mouse. After a while, I slowly placed my left hand on her waist and gently embraced her. She initially tried to wriggle away, saying in a flustered voice, "Stop it!" I ignored her and instead boldly caressed her waist. She grabbed my hand with her left and tried to pull her right hand away as well, but I wasn't going to give her a chance. I grabbed her hand and intertwined our fingers. She angrily said, "What are you doing?" I stared intently at her face, slowly taking her hand and bringing it to my lips. She panicked, and just as I kissed the back of her hand, she let out a weak, soft moan, then suddenly stood up to run away. I stood up too, quickly pulling her into my arms, pressing my cheek against hers, and said, "I've waited so long for this moment."
She trembled and gasped for breath in my arms, and I deliberately made loud, heavy breathing sounds in her ear. We remained still for a few minutes. When she calmed down a little, she tried to push me away, but I held her even tighter, lowering my head to nibble on her earlobe. She was like a stung cat, her moans like a flood, soft and continuous. Finally, I found an opportunity and kissed her lips. My tongue barely touched her lips, and she opened her mouth, sticking out her tongue. I sucked hard like a hungry wolf, and her body went limp against me. I let her wrap her arms around my neck. As I kissed her, I rubbed her breasts while simultaneously thrusting my rock-hard penis against her genitals.
After several rounds of stimulation, she was completely dazed. I seized the opportunity to pull her cheongsam up from the bottom, leaving her naked from the buttocks down. I pressed my advantage, quickly pulling down her panties until they were just below her ankles. Taking advantage of the moment, I went straight for her. A quick touch revealed she was already soaking wet. I hooked my middle finger into her slit and started probing wildly. She was powerless, and I held her with one arm while the other unzipped her pants, which were still hanging at her knees. I guided her hand to grasp my throbbing penis. She numbly gripped it, but I impatiently pushed her hand away, revealing my gleaming, erect cock, its head gleaming menacingly, ready to thrust in. As an aside, why didn't I push her onto the bed? Because at that time I was particularly obsessed with standing sex; watching a woman's face contort in ecstasy was incredibly enjoyable.
Standing up made penetration difficult, so at my prompting, she finally grasped my penis, spread her legs, and guided it in. It slid in with a whoosh. She probably hadn't experienced this position before, and let out another series of screams. I wrapped my arms around her waist and thrust wildly. Her screams were almost out of control, and our bodies made a constant slapping sound, along with a series of sizzling sounds from below—it was incredibly stimulating and exhilarating.
Her eyes were tightly closed, only panting and moaning. I stared intently at her, thrusting and saying with a sense of conquest, and she looked at me. "I finally fucked you, you know? I wanted to fuck you the first time I saw you, and I finally fucked you." She weakly opened her eyes, looking blank. My lust surged, and I said triumphantly, "I knew I was going to fuck you just by looking into your eyes. Did you know I wanted to fuck you too?" She blushed and buried her face in my body.
Standing while having sex was incredibly strenuous. In less than ten minutes, she couldn't take it anymore. I could feel her thighs trembling uncontrollably. Sure enough, she said in a trembling voice, "I really can't take it anymore, let's go to the bed." So I pulled out a wet stick, carried her to the bed, and she breathed a sigh of relief. While I turned on the light, she propped herself up to take off her cheongsam. After taking off her clothes, she wanted to take off her shoes. I made her wear shoes on, and holding her ankles with both hands, I spread her legs wide . Her pubic hair was very light, making her look exceptionally clean, and her vulva was oozing lubrication. Penetration was effortless again. She let out another soft
, limp moan. We spent most of the day in bed, exhausted. Our legs intertwined, we fell asleep in each other's arms. I don't know how long I slept, but I vaguely felt her get up. Some time later, she woke me up; she had already prepared lunch. We ate lunch, and then another round of intense sex ensued in the afternoon. That night, we made love again at her house. She said her body, which had been parched for so long, was finally irrigated.
After that, we had affairs whenever we had the chance. She had a gentle personality, a kind of inexplicable dignity, and was also very independent. She wasn't clingy and never initiated contact, but she never rejected me either. She also gave me a lot of help at work, and I respected her a lot. We're still in contact, but not as frequently as the first time.

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