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Love Blossoms at Lugu Lake (An Original Work) 

    page views:1  Publication date:2018-05-29  
I had almost given up on the idea of exchanging QQ accounts. I found those unrealistic or overly direct approaches, jumping straight to the point without any buildup, extremely abrupt and uncomfortable. Just when my dream was about to shatter, I unexpectedly received a call from Mr. and Mrs. H. It seemed like fate; we hit it off immediately, chatting easily and happily, discussing everything from voice and video calls to any topic. Our extended interaction allowed us to understand each other better, and we developed feelings for one another. Time allowed us to relax, which was the positive outcome we had hoped for. For a time, we became like brothers, the women like sisters, breaking down all societal taboos. Several months later, we planned a trip to Lugu Lake together! When we met, we were very informal, like old friends
reuniting
after many years. The scene was still fresh in my mind. H had a side-swept hairstyle, was slim but not thin, with a very strong build, about 175 cm tall, wearing a red polo shirt, light gray casual pants, and a Z-shaped belt around her waist, looking very capable! Sister H looked to be about 160 cm tall, with a slender figure, wearing a light brown A-line chiffon long skirt, and a purple-blue silk scarf tied in a knot at her chest, revealing her shoulders, fair neck, and 80C bust, a whole cup size larger than my wife's. Beneath her white, wide-brimmed sun hat, a dignified yet alluring smile graced her. She was exactly like the woman in the video—generous and poised, unlike her husband, H, a straightforward and humorous fellow. He never let the conversation die down, nor was he annoying; his jokes were endless, and his wife was doubled over with laughter several times. H would simply offer a faint, cool smile. It was in that instant that I felt a strong attraction to H. Wasn't this the kind of noble and aloof woman I had been searching for deep down? She was beautiful without being vulgar, cool without being aloof, intelligent and poised. Thinking of this, I felt a powerful force coursing through me, a conviction rising within me: I must conquer this woman. We shared the same goal, yet remained silent to each other. I was delighted with this state. From several unintentional glances exchanged with H, I also sensed that she was developing feelings for me. H and his wife chatted and laughed ahead, while H and I exchanged a smile and walked behind them without any awkwardness. We arrived at the hotel together.

After receiving the room keys for the two rooms we had booked, we returned to our respective rooms and rested for a while. My wife was still excited; she had even temporarily forgotten the purpose of this trip. I deliberately asked, "Is H alright?" My wife replied, "H and her husband are both quite nice," and then lowered her head without saying anything more. "Are you ready?" I asked, and she looked at me with a silly grin. Seeing her hesitation, I smiled and said, "Just let things happen naturally." We finished washing up, and soon H and her husband knocked on our door and came to our room. This time, H had removed her makeup, put her hair up in a bun, and was still as elegant and poised as ever, exuding true femininity. They had come prepared. Perhaps because the setting had suddenly shifted indoors, the atmosphere and rhythm seemed noticeably less bright and cheerful than before. H, being the experienced one he is, immediately suggested playing cards. I readily agreed, "That sounds good." To avoid discomfort, we played a game of sticky notes; taking things step by step was our tacit understanding. Everything proceeded smoothly until the scene was filled with laughter and chatter. H and his wife were exchanging glances, while my sister H was giving him flirtatious looks and making some physical contact. We were all waiting for the right moment, until my wife accused H of cheating at cards and threw a punch at him. H dodged the punch, stumbled, and pulled his wife into his arms. They were fooling around on the sofa when H gave us a look. My sister H and I exchanged a smile, and she suddenly took my hand and said, "Let them fool around." I understood and took her hand, and we got up together to leave the room and go to the next one. Just as I turned back to close the door, I saw two blurry faces pressed together…

Entering the other room, it was dark, the lights were off, and I felt suffocated. H-jie perhaps sensed my unease; she switched on a bedside lamp from the light switch by the door, closed the door, leaned one hand against the wall, and let the other hang down, smiling as she looked me over. I moved closer, we looked at each other, but remained still. I knew that any movement would shatter the unprecedented beauty of this ambiguity. I knew perfectly well that this was my type; I had fantasized countless times about having this woman before me, and now she was right there, this beauty, and I would savor her slowly. I moved closer again, and H-jie suddenly tilted her head back and closed her eyes. I clearly saw a smooth, expectant face, the corners of her mouth… She let out a long sigh, tilted her head back, and her hair, which had been tied up in a bun, came undone. A strand of long hair brushed against my nose with the sigh, tickling me. I held my breath, my fingertips sliding down her face. Her breathing quickened, her body contorting and stiffening. I kissed her, from her forehead to the tip of her nose, light and methodical. She remained motionless. I loved the woman's statue-like, frozen state of reserve and helplessness. I kissed the corner of her mouth, and she slowly awoke, beginning to respond, though her eyes remained closed. My hand gently caressed her waist, sliding across her smooth skin through her chiffon dress, like wiping a polished glass with a thin veil. My hand moved to her breasts; through her bra, I could feel her softness, her heart pounding like a deer's. She wriggled, wrapping her arms around my shoulders, her tongue recklessly intertwining with mine. Welcoming and seeing off a large, damp area, my fingertips weren't idle. I gently stroked her waist, my fingers feeling her slight tremor where they touched. Suddenly, she bit my lip hard. Startled, I revealed a long-lost wicked smile. I abruptly turned her around, yanked her chiffon dress off from the bottom, and pulled it down over her head, stripping away that facade, and the air of nobility that weighed on my heart. The woman's hands rested on the wall. I scrutinized her once more: a flawless, high-necked, sapphire blue top, flesh-colored stockings, and black, shiny mid-heeled shoes. In an instant, I could quickly determine that she was a woman outwardly traditional but inwardly restless. If you could touch the deepest chords of her heart, she would bloom for you without reservation. True friendship is rare, but I won't elaborate on that here. What happened next proved my judgment correct. She remained motionless, her hands still on the wall, as if waiting? My kiss landed on the back of her neck, my tongue gliding over her shoulder and back. She trembled, shivering, only humming softly. My fingertips slid from her hand to her armpit, along the thin bra straps, tracing circles on her nipples. She moaned softly. Suddenly, I heard footsteps in the hallway outside. My mind went blank, and I swiftly tore open the stockings—the prelude to a man's conquest. This sound was like the starting horn of a battle. I picked up H and carried her to the bed, kissing her deeply as I gently laid her down. In the dim light of the bedside lamp, H's face was flushed. I lifted one of her legs, gently... Kissing her, she moaned. The shoe hanging in mid-air, like a trophy, dangled from her delicate foot, accompanied by her soft panting. I saw a woman's truly boundless tenderness and charm. I casually removed the dangling shoe and took her toes, encased in sheer stockings, into my mouth. I smelled, licked, scratched, and bit, sliding from her toes to her thighs. I clearly felt the fragrance and scent emanating from a truly mature woman. This was another key to unlocking a woman's secrets. The woman writhed, saying she was itchy. I saw a large wet patch between her legs. I stripped myself off, removing her shimmering panties. A strong, pungent smell wafted out—the smell of love! Some might reject it, but I couldn't resist! I stroked her face, kissing her passionately again, no longer shy, no longer waiting. We intertwined, caressing each other, trying to become one. I lifted my head and solemnly unhooked the slightly trembling clasp from her chest. The royal blue bra, like two lotus petals, bloomed in my hands. The two delicate buds within the petals stood firmly in the frozen air. I saw the rosy areolas, evenly spread around the buds. In the halo of light, I saw a crystal-clear tear trail on her blurred face. These were tears of emotion, tears of longing, tears of something that could never be sought! These were tears of uncontrollable joy after the Moonlight Box was opened! I quickly embraced the woman, gently kissing her, kissing away the two tear tracks at the corners of her eyes. She smiled tenderly and said to me, "It's so good to have met you!" I was speechless for a moment, then excitedly said, "My darling, tonight, you are my bride! You are my queen!" I gently stroked her, then changed the subject playfully, saying, "It's not good to say I'm good now. You'll only be truly good after you've seen my real skills!" The woman playfully punched me, saying I was really naughty! I smiled and activated my second-stage mode.

I lay there sucking on her bud, my hands never idle. The feel of her C-cup reminded me of Michael Jordan's one-handed layup. Damn, if I had Jordan's hands, even the biggest cup size would be a breeze! The woman wanted me to be more forceful, to stop being so gentle. In an instant, I used every trick in the book – blowing, pulling, singing, licking, kneading, and rubbing. She wanted me to press my tongue hard against her nipple. Strangely enough, this press was like flipping a switch; she instantly became aroused and moaned. It seems every woman's erogenous zone is different. I touched her private parts; they were completely wet, and the sheets were soaked too. I lowered my head to her pubic area; her petals were slightly parted. I sucked on them, and she let out a loud cry, her legs straightening and twisting like a ballerina's, clamping my head between them. I moved my tongue in rhythm, and she seemed bewitched, twisting her head and saying, "Faster! Faster!" I ignored her and continued licking. After a while, the woman said in a tearful voice, "Come in quickly!" I cleverly said, "Call me husband, please!" The woman said breathlessly, "Good husband, please, I want it!" I said, "Want what?" The woman blushed and said, "I want my husband's penis inside me." I couldn't believe that the goddess of my dreams was so quickly and earnestly begging me between my lips. I was a little carried away, but even more so, I felt a pang of tenderness. I didn't want to neglect my woman, I didn't want to slack off with my queen. No sooner said than done, I, already burning with desire, like a warrior responding to a command, charged towards that muddy holy land. The woman let out a long gasp, then began to moan again. With each thrust, she rippled like a sieve, her petals opening and closing rhythmically, her penis rising and falling with mine. It seemed to inhale and exhale, accompanied by wetness, smoothness, stickiness, warmth, and envelopment. In each perfectly timed advance and retreat, the woman convulsed. In a moment of unrestrained desire, amidst waves of pleasure, she climaxed. I saw Sister H lying limp on the bed, utterly dejected. (To be continued)

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