Wives and Single Men (3) --- Reliving Old Dreams

page views:1 Publication date:2013-07-22

When I couldn't fulfill my obligations, although my wife rarely expressed dissatisfaction, I knew she was trying her best to restrain herself after so many years of marriage. Marriage isn't something that happens overnight, especially since my wife is only 29.
Approaching middle age, her body, almost overflowing with moisture, is like a ripe peach—full, round, and alluring. Outside, colleagues and friends make risqué jokes, constantly stimulating her senses. Especially in summer, her firm, voluptuous body, no matter how her work clothes try to conceal her high breasts, round, firm buttocks, long, shapely legs in stockings and high heels, swaying in the crowded bus, intentionally or unintentionally touching skin, the smell of sweat mixed with the strong testosterone of men, the alluring smoke entering my wife's nose, the man's heavy breathing and the heat waves rushing towards her neck, my wife tenses her legs, a surge of desire wells up from her private parts. Her hands grip the handrail tightly, her whole body stiff, waiting for the next approach. The anticipation and repression cannot be released. That fire, suppressed for too long, is finally stirred and bursts forth. I forced myself to rush home, my eyes sparkling as I lay on the sofa, pantyhose and panties off, my vulva glistening, overflowing with wanton lust. My long, limp legs draped over the backrest, my hands parting my labia. As I put on my penis and aimed, my wife thrust forward, my entire length penetrating her. She let out a long cry, clutching my buttocks, shouting, "Husband, I want it! I want it! Harder! Ah! Ah!" She writhed with ecstasy. Her wanton expression, her oblivious abandon, filled me with shame and heartache, almost bringing tears to my eyes. I cooperated with her, working hard.
My wife had been using plastic dildos for a month now; she'd bought 11 different ones and kept them around the house. She'd tried them all on me, one by one. At first, it was novel, and she was enthusiastic and unrestrained for months. But eventually, she said the plastic ones were lifeless and couldn't compare to the real ones. She subtly hinted that she wanted to have sex with the real ones. I replied sourly, "Is it one of those single men you've messed with?" My wife pouted, looking at me pitifully and shyly, then nodded and hummed in agreement.
Two days later, one evening, I made an excuse to go out and dropped my wife off at the Grand Skylight Hotel. My wife asked curiously, "Aren't you coming?" I suppressed my anger, cursing inwardly, "How could I possibly go?" I replied, "I have something to do." My wife asked again, "When are you coming to pick me up?" I wanted to grab a knife and chop her up; she was acting like a bastard, she couldn't live like this. But I smiled gently and said, "Hehe, you can come home whenever you want." "Oh, then you should go home early too." Watching my plump, fair-skinned wife walk in, my heart ached, like metal being sliced open, warm, thick blood gushing out...
In the dim light of the hotel room, a strong man with a muscular back raised his long, voluptuous legs encased in black stockings, thrusting in and out. A cheerful, loud "slap, slap" echoed. The woman cried out and groaned plaintively. Her pubic hair, ravaged and crushed into a mess, was covered in glistening, slippery semen. Her two wrinkled labia were stretched and deformed with the thrusting of the thick penis. The penis's thrusting created a dense, wet sound. Her two testicles, like eggs, swayed and collided, pressed against her flattened, round buttocks. Her flat abdomen rose and fell rapidly, and her erect, rosy, and delicate nipples swayed and bobbed with her full breasts. Her plump, moist body welcomed the veined penis. The dynamic thrusting and cultivating were satisfying and intense.
The woman's small, delicate chin swayed, and her pink, fragrant neck, like a thinly peeled lychee, stretched and twisted. Her hair was disheveled and clung to her face, which was covered in fine sweat. Her eyes were half-closed, glistening and dreamy, her thin lips slightly parted, her pearly teeth biting as she panted softly. Flesh collided with flesh, sweat mingled. The sounds of their union. The thick, realistic penis and the tight, slippery vagina pulsatingly thrust, suppressing the woman's soft moans of mating, stimulating the man's sense of conquest to be even more intense and rapid. Fierce collisions, cries of pleasure. The woman's body trembled violently, her vagina contracted, and she cried out in lewd moans, each one louder than the last, filling the room. The woman gripped the man's penis tightly with both hands, as if trying to dig it into his flesh. Beads of sweat rolled down the man's back as he thrust harder, his buttocks taut, his vagina gripping the hot penis, contracting rapidly in circles, a warm current washing over the sensitive glans and rushing down towards the urethral opening. Gently stroking the ligaments connecting to the urethral opening, pleasure immediately surged to the man's brain, emitting a dazzling light. His taut body let out a high-pitched howl. A rapid, intense, scalding surge of semen violently attacked the woman's uterus. Wave after wave, like a raging flood, violently assaulted the tender cervix. Heat spread throughout the uterus; such intense stimulation caused the contracting uterus to trigger even more violent orgasms, wave after wave engulfing the woman's entire body. The woman cried out, followed by a thunderous roar, a tempestuous storm, then a sudden silence, a stillness, a gentle breeze, a sense of ease, comfort, and overflowing lust. Her high breasts and magnificent penis stood proudly erect. Everything, everything was utterly calm.
The vanished passion, and the unspoken desire, stirred restlessly under my sensitive nerves, like a tender blade of grass about to burst through the rock, on the verge of collapse.

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Wives and Single Men (3) --- Reliving Old Dreams

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