Dragon Boat Festival

page views:2 Publication date:2013-06-11

We had no travel plans for the three-day Dragon Boat Festival holiday. My wife's period had just ended, and we did it this morning—nothing special.
This afternoon, my wife wore a pink mini-skirt, completely naked, just a thin garment; you could see her nipples if you looked closely. At the supermarket, I told her not to squat down while shopping, but to stick her butt out. She agreed. Pushing the shopping cart and looking at her, I really wished we'd met some 69 couples.
Her mini-skirt just covered about 5 centimeters below her anus, and with her butt sticking out, you could see her pubic hair from behind. The supermarket was crowded today, so we didn't dare be too forward. On the fourth floor, in the clothing section, I picked out denim shorts for my wife and had her go into the fitting room. It wasn't a big fitting room; I put the shopping cart aside and went in. My wife was completely naked, a little excited, and asked if the jeans fit.
I wasn't interested in the jeans, and my wife knew that too. She took them off, her genitals were wet, but we couldn't do anything. My wife was quite open-minded. She pulled out my penis with one hand, touched her genitals with the other, and after a few seconds, took it into her mouth.
In this environment, of course, we couldn't stay in one place for long. I was very excited; I could hear people talking outside. My wife rubbed her own genitals while licking me, and I ejaculated in less than two minutes. Without hesitation, she swallowed it, then got up and gave me a fierce French kiss, even spitting some of her semen into my mouth. What could I do? She was so mischievous. After putting on her short skirt, my wife said, "Let's buy this."
I went to check my watch; less than four minutes. This time, I ejaculated prematurely.
The women outside probably didn't seem to notice anything amiss; they helped us pack up and get the receipt.
We paid and left.
On the way back, I parked the car next to a small breakfast shop. Around four or five in the afternoon, almost no one came there; the shop was closed, and there were some cars passing by, but not many.
My wife asked if I enjoyed it, and I said it was okay, but I wasn't used to the taste of semen. My wife got out of the car and then got back in; I also got out and then got back in. Before I could even stand up straight, she grabbed my head and pressed it between her legs, teasing me. I reluctantly accepted it. She was relaxed, moaning softly.
Back home, my wife took off her clothes and lazily lay on the sofa. I jotted down these words. My wife asked me if 69 was reliable, and I didn't answer. Reading the articles made it seem possible, but seeing those profile pictures and the explicit content, it all seemed too frivolous. What genuine couple would display their wife's photo like that? Even if they did, they'd put it in an album.
My wife has changed these past few days; she seems less resistant to 69, but said she'd like to meet some couples, preferably from different cities, but within the same province—convenient and safe.
Ideally, I could continue to guide her.

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