A Good Night

page views:1 Publication date:2019-11-12

I've had a habit of writing a diary since I was little, and I never changed it, even on nights of pleasure. I was often teased for "wasting a good night," to which I retorted, "It's a romantic night!" The result was predictable: as I lay writing in my diary beside him, I was eventually overtaken by his impatient nature. At dawn, I opened my pink diary and, at my sunlit desk, wrote a messy, erotic account of the previous night, about our time in bed, especially his "ugly" behavior. But deep down, I felt a sweet and trembling sensation. I

don't know when it started, but I began to appreciate the moving aspect of writing in my diary, as if reliving sex, experiencing pleasure from the inside out, starting from the soul, and then a warm current flowing through my entire body.

From then on, I gave myself a beautiful new task: recording the frequency, quality, and duration of his visits, as well as our language in bed and our levels of excitement and pleasure. Sometimes, I would simply write right after sex, and this became part of my afterplay, which I found quite enjoyable.

More significantly, it allowed me to see the evolution of my own desires, as well as the developmental trajectory and characteristics of men's sexual needs and preferences.

I was surprised to discover that in his twenties, he was aggressive, conquering and domineering, relentlessly pursuing his partner's satisfaction. In

his thirties, he became somewhat passive, his passion waning—which is understandable. However, his bedroom etiquette and sexual cultivation improved; he enjoyed mutual cooperation and compromise, and cared about my feelings, often asking, "Are you enjoying yourself?" At this stage, his selfishness was less pronounced, and he valued interaction and communication.

Around forty, he seemed to have changed again—it turns out these things evolve with time! Often, he just wanted to hug me or make some suggestive gestures, as if driven by a strong protective instinct, wanting only to care for me or gently pat me to sleep.

One day, I accidentally found a wad of tissue stained with semen in a trash bag. He had been masturbating! This was like a bolt from the blue. I was utterly shocked. How could he go it alone without me? I suddenly felt inexplicably lost, uneasy, and humiliated.

At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to grab him and tear him apart. I asked him, "Why?" Was I not good enough? Lacking femininity? Or was it because I was past my prime? Under my questioning, he finally revealed the truth. He said that every time he read what I wrote, he felt like he was being stripped naked and subjected to a physical examination, especially after middle age. Because if she still commented and penalized him with relish, given the decline in the frequency and quality of his sex life, he felt inferior and guilty. He always felt he was no longer as virile, that he wasn't good enough, and couldn't satisfy her desires, which was exhausting.

For men, sex is often just a way to escape work pressure or life anxiety, and a woman's "sexuality" has clearly become a heavy burden, constantly affecting his hormone levels. As for occasional masturbation, it's just for momentary pleasure, purely for sex, for release, without considering the other person's feelings. As long as "one man can make five people cry" (male masturbation), he can relax without being criticized or teased.

After hearing his sincere and pitiful inner monologue, my heart filled with compassion, and I finally understood why men are so tired. Perhaps I'm too mature, and he felt my demands were too high, difficult to handle, or hard to satisfy, so he had to back down.

It's for the best; problems are inevitable between men and women, because behind harmony lies constant adjustment and compromise. Things change, people's hearts change, and sexual needs change. "..." was once our proud aphrodisiac bedtime story, but now, perhaps we no longer need it. Sometimes, sex is something that can't be explained too clearly; a little ignorance is bliss also applies to keeping feelings fresh.

I finally burned the "", then buried my face in his arms, letting him caress me. The elegant hairstyle I wore during the day was gone. In his arms, perhaps all I needed to do was let my hair be disheveled, my heart be in turmoil, be lost in his embrace, and let him guide me. This was my completely new inner construction, under his control, satisfying his sexual dominance!

Actually, I liked it this way too. We were both happy!

URL 1:https://www.sex3p.com/htmlBlog/92017.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=92017&aspx=1

Last access time:

Previous Page : First time having sex in public

Next Page : A 3P Encounter – A Heart-wrenching Age-Gap Romance

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

A Good Night

comment Open a new window to view comments