My Story with My Wife, Part 3: Exploring the Forest

page views:1 Publication date:2015-09-04

Beautiful stories need no artistic embellishment or modification; pure emotions flow naturally, without needing to be forced. For several nights in a row, my wife and I would go to the nearby park for deep kisses. After school in the evenings, when it was still early, we would walk hand in hand, arm in arm, out of the school gate, then walk through the park's main entrance—a red-brick, black-tiled roof—climbing many steps to reach a small flat area at the top. There were many recreational areas there, including a senior activity center, an ice rink, and a dance hall. We chose that spot almost every night; it was relatively quiet, and even though there were paths nearby, people would occasionally walk by, but the greenery provided shade. It was Tuesday night. The moon was high and clear, and it had just rained lightly, making it refreshing and pleasant. It was quite chilly; my wife was wearing a yellow cardigan and jeans. Perhaps because of our passionate kisses the previous days, we quickly got into character. My lower body was still very aroused; after all, it was my first time being so close to a woman. My wife sat on my lap, her arms wrapped around my neck, almost frantically. My hands naturally landed on her breasts. But after lingering on her breasts for a while, I felt a lack of realism through her clothes and bra. So I lifted her clothes and caressed her abdomen. My wife's eyes were slightly closed, enjoying it immensely. Seeing no objection, I grew bolder, my hands slowly moving upwards. When I touched the fleshy edges of her breasts, my wife grabbed my hands and said no. My heart was pounding wildly, but I chose to respect her refusal. I buried my head in my wife's chest and stopped the passionate kiss. My wife added again, "Really, no." I didn't say anything, my head struggled against her chest a few times, and then continued the deep kiss. My hands slid from her abdomen to her back in rhythm with the kisses. My wife was a virgin; her muscles were firm yet elastic, her figure perfect with no excess fat. I don't know when, but my hands moved from her armpits to her nipples. This time, my wife was calm, but the kisses became even more passionate and intense. I lifted my wife's clothes a little higher, allowing my hands to slip through and reach her collarbone. I gently caressed her collarbone and shoulders, then pressed them against the top of her breasts, and she acquiesced. In an instant, I removed the bra hook from her back and slid them naturally towards her breasts, holding them in my palms. My wife's body trembled, she stopped what she was doing, and gazed at me with a dazed look. A woman's gaze, though dim, is captivating, igniting an irresistible desire in a man. Without a word, I pulled her close and kissed her passionately, caressing her breasts. Faced with prolonged teasing, her hips began to slide back and forth between my thighs, moving powerfully and rhythmically. My lower body pressed against hers; I was already wet, hard and painfully throbbing.
Enjoyment is wonderful; no one can resist it. The inevitable progression of events was already set in stone. Wednesday night, we returned to our usual spot. It was raining when we went out, but I figured a large tree there would prevent any leaks. That night, only the dim yellow light of the streetlights illuminated the scene. The side path, naturally, was deserted due to the damp chill of late autumn. We rehearsed the actions from the previous day; it was my wife's first time, and her reaction was strong. She quickly became aroused, kissing passionately. My hands were restless; one hand kneaded my wife's breast, while the other slid down her back into her pants, touching her buttocks. I felt a strange excitement; the thick, fleshy texture where her waist and hips met, the deep, tight cleft, full of mystery. I kneaded it with a little force, my fingers slowly sliding up and down between her buttocks. My wife seemed somewhat excited, pressing herself tightly against my neck, her breasts exposed to my lips. I kissed them, and her body writhed even more, enjoying it, letting me do as I pleased. I wanted to stretch my hand deeper into her buttocks, but when I touched that fleshy mound, my wife stopped me, grabbing the hand I wanted to explore further. I looked up at my wife's expression; she was simply ecstatic, her eyes slightly closed, fully enjoying the moment. I slipped both hands into my wife's tight jeans, which clung to her buttocks. Without unbuttoning, my hands moved clumsily, kneading and rubbing. When I grasped her buttocks again, she didn't resist my advance. We began trying different positions, sometimes embracing from behind, sometimes face-to-face, sometimes standing, sometimes sitting. My lower body could no longer resist. I took one of her hands and gently touched it to my genitals. She immediately withdrew it. I pulled it back again, but she just held it without moving. I tentatively took her hand and stroked it through my pants. My wife, quick to understand, grasped my hard, throbbing penis and massaged it back and forth. I felt incredibly good, feeling streams of fluid gushing out, soaking my thin, autumn-wearing casual trousers.
Perhaps men in love will consciously or unconsciously push their luck. Or perhaps it's just the natural progression of intense passion. The most mysterious thing about women is that they privately guard that forbidden territory. I was filled with longing, especially the curiosity of a man with no sexual experience. It was Thursday, and after several days of teasing, my lower body was filled with boundless desire. My wife was completely immersed in that state of ecstasy. That night, we walked out of the teaching building without any prior arrangement. Neither of us mentioned it, but we habitually left the school gate and arrived at our usual spot. We stood facing each other, embracing, our eyes meeting for a moment, our gazes filled with deep, anxious longing for our lips and tongues to mingle again. My hands moved from top to bottom, each caress precise and precise, repeating what we had done before. Soon, my lips kissed my wife's neck and then her chest. My left arm encircled her waist, while my right hand naturally slipped into her buttocks, which were tightly encased in her jeans. My wife's buttocks were beautiful to look at and to the touch. I enjoyed caressing her buttocks, and she naturally enjoyed it too. Instantly, I felt an urge, and with one hand caressing her buttocks, I wanted to scoop up her entire buttocks. My hand slid between her thighs and lifted her up with force. Little did I know, this action would lead to a shocking discovery. My wife's thighs were wet, a sticky, slippery liquid flowing down, covering the area between her thighs. My wife is a conservative woman; she seemed very nervous when the first man touched the area where her thighs met, strongly resisting my hand going deeper and forcefully pulling it away. The long standing position was tiring, so we changed positions. I sat on the concrete edge, and my wife sat with her back to me on my lap, so I could hug her from behind, my hands caressing her breasts. My wife's breasts weren't large, but they were shapely and elastic, the nipples already hard and erect. My wife's buttocks arched back slightly, shifting slightly. I pulled her hands towards me, but she was hesitant to touch me. I unbuckled my belt and pulled down my pants, and for the first time, my wife could freely hold my penis in her palm. I really couldn't resist my wife's teasing movements; my penis kept wanting to push upwards, wishing there was a cave to contain it all. My hands caressed her faster and lower. My wife was wearing low-rise jeans. When I touched her waistband, I felt like I was grabbing some pubic hair. I slipped my fingertips inside her waistband, and there it was—pubic hair! A surge of excitement washed over me; it was thick, smooth, and growing downwards. My wife was captivated; her breathing quickened, and the rhythm of her heartbeat was clearly audible in the quiet. I rubbed her mons pubis back and forth, occasionally sliding my fingers down her moist inner thighs. The hair was a little irritating, but it felt wonderful to touch. My wife kept her legs pressed together, her breasts rising and falling with her breath. I wanted to explore the depths of that "cave" beneath the pubic hair, but she resisted. However, I unbuttoned her jeans, pulled down the zipper, and stroked her mons pubis, and she acquiesced.
My wife's body felt incredibly mysterious and alluring, fueling my endless fantasies. My penis swelled and hardened like a pillar reaching for the sky. Although my wife wasn't very experienced and her movements were a bit clumsy, she grasped the technique quickly, her rubbing and stretching with perfect control. I couldn't take it anymore. My wife wouldn't let me touch her precious vulva, so I had her sit facing me on my lap, pressing her head towards me. My legs seemed a little numb, so I stopped bending them and stretched forward. My wife's buttocks sank down, and her head was right next to my penis. I held her head, pushed my penis upwards, and brought it to her mouth. She shook her head. I persisted in bringing my large penis to her mouth, and she took it into her mouth. At first, her teeth brushed against my tender glans, and I cried out in pain. She tested it a few more times, asking how it felt. I said it felt good, so I kept licking it. My wife quickly got into character, and I naturally put my hands inside her exposed buttocks. She was sitting with her legs spread apart, her thighs naturally apart. I started stroking from the inside of her thighs down to her buttocks, and she would occasionally lift her buttocks. Although I was also a novice, my experience over the past few days told me that my wife's desire was also very strong; her vulva covered her thighs and even her anus. I couldn't rush things. I slowly moved closer to where the two thighs met, and finally, I touched the thin labia. The sensation in my hand told me again, yes, it was the labia, the labia parted, with a shallow groove beside them. I pressed two fingers together, squeezing them inwards, and a stream of fluid gushed down, landing in my palm. My wife said no, and immediately stood up. I said I wanted to, I really couldn't resist. I promised to only touch it from the outside, and only then did my wife sit down again. It was getting late, and fearing the dormitory would lock up, we left, still excited.

URL 1:https://www.sexlove5.com/htmlBlog/94934.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=94934&aspx=1

Last access time:

Previous Page : The Story of My Wife: The Four Woods Are Already Gone

Next Page : Friends in Wuhan, does anyone have a similar experience?

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

My Story with My Wife, Part 3: Exploring the Forest

comment Open a new window to view comments