Waiting across time and space

page views:1 Publication date:2010-11-29

It all started with Korean films.
For a long time, I've been captivated by Korean romance films. Not only are the visuals exquisite and beautiful, the stories engaging and the structures ingenious, but more importantly, each film reflects different aspects of love and sex across various social strata. I also greatly admire Korean actresses for their daring exposure. In the film industry, Korean romance films are truly unique.
Just as I was tirelessly searching and anticipating the next film to address a particular social (sexual) issue, I downloaded "Exchange of Tenderness." From that moment on, my worldview underwent a radical transformation, becoming completely unstoppable.
Honestly, if it weren't for this film, I would never have known such a thing existed. Before that, I was just a jealous, immature young man. And I clearly remember it was around 2005 or 2006, when I was about 25 years old. My girlfriend, whom I had lived with for three years during university, had just started working. At that time, we weren't even aware of being bored with each other's bodies, yet I clearly felt that this absurd behavior deeply touched a certain chord within me. It was only then that I realized that no matter how the time, place, occasion, or method of lovemaking changes, the destination is always the same familiar maze. Even before entering, you know what it feels like; once inside, you find it truly feels the same. Compared to intimate moments between spouses, all the carefully prepared little romantic gestures seemed so pale and powerless. Imagining her exquisite beauty being penetrated and released by someone else, a pair of unfamiliar large hands forcefully grasping her soft breasts, her entire body belonging to another person's unrestrained territory—how would that person feel? How would she feel? Would she be excited? Would she feel stimulated? I couldn't suppress the jealousy yet excitement, the reluctance yet the desire for her happiness. My trembling body sent me soaring to orgasm again and again.
I wondered, what's wrong with me? Am I truly "masochistic" at heart?
I have no doubt about our love; we do this simply to increase sexual stimulation. —This is the answer I'm becoming increasingly certain of. This is the lifestyle we chose ourselves, as long as we both agree, and the facts have proven that it is indeed the lubricant for regulating our emotions and nurturing our love. In reality, my inner desires and impulses at that time left me no time to find so-called calm and rational reasons to convince myself to give up this increasingly intense idea. Okay, I admit, I was a bit self-destructive.
Conditions were tough back then; the rented apartment didn't have broadband, so I copied articles from the internet at work to influence my girlfriend. Gradually, she went from rejection to understanding, from curiosity to wanting to try—step by step, subtle changes occurred within her, and our lives became more vibrant (the blows to my wife's self-esteem and the ecstatic joy of progress she experienced during this process are too numerous to recount).
Being prepared was already quite difficult, and finding a suitable partner was comparable to arranged marriage.
Just when I was feeling utterly defeated and determined to sever all ties with dating, I met our first successful couple.
To my surprise, the person who added me, chatted with me, and even video-chatted with me was their wife. She was a few years older than us, mature, generous, poised, and understanding; her husband had achieved some success in his career. They had a previous encounter, not perfect, but at least they'd experienced it. So, for the sake of a perfect next time, her husband entrusted the search to her.
After some time communicating, we started planning to meet.
Our first meeting was at a bar in Nanjing 1912. Amidst the bright lights and bustling atmosphere, we found them, then tentatively chatted, drank, smoked, and then laughed, played games, and mingled. Pretending to be calm, my legs were often shaking uncontrollably under the table.
His wife wasn't feeling well that day, but after leaving the bar, he still suggested we go to a hotel to talk, but not about anything else. Although we didn't suspect him of having ulterior motives, we still politely declined. —I think I definitely wasn't drunk that day.
Back home, we were still caught in a tense yet excited state. Lovemaking, irresistible lovemaking. I dialed his number, put the receiver to my girlfriend's mouth, and then thrust harder…
I heard his chuckle on the phone, encouraging me.
We couldn't help but look forward to our next meeting. And next time, I thought, it would be unavoidable. Damn, my legs were shaking again, I was going crazy.
Knowing there were tigers in the mountains, I still went towards them. During that time, I was terrified of seeing them online, yet constantly hoping they would. Finally, two weeks later, we agreed to meet that Saturday night. It
was a rainy night in March or April, a little chilly, and we took a taxi to our meeting. We didn't speak in the car, not knowing what to say. I looked at her somewhat expressionlessly, and she gave me a forced, reassuring smile. I simply watched the oncoming headlights refracting the raindrops on the glass, creating beautiful frost flowers, clusters of them, then strings of them. The car was so quiet it was almost suffocating; the only sound was the constantly swishing windshield wipers. The heater must have been on too high, otherwise, why would our palms be so sweaty?
We met at a small Western restaurant near Gulou Square. We hadn't dressed up; we were dressed normally for work. His wife wore light makeup; she was fair-skinned and beautiful. He was tall and somewhat robust. That night, I ate a little and drank as much as I could. After dinner, we took his QQ car and headed straight to a nearby hotel they liked.
Inside the room, they treated us like older brothers and sisters, and we, feeling embarrassed by our initial awkwardness, gradually relaxed. Then we browsed the amusement park together, and when we saw familiar users, we couldn't help but comment on the woman's looks: "Wow, this photo is pretty good, great figure, just a bit far away, haha!"...
Regarding showering, we decided to let the women choose one of two slips of paper with men's names on them, but only if they caught their boyfriends or husbands.
The bathroom was a shower stall, big enough for two people, but not enough room to move around. Okay, my sister-in-law showered inside, and I leaned against the sink watching, my wet body shivering in the cold wind—how pathetic! My sister-in-law wasn't very tall, but she had a well-proportioned figure. Sometimes her breasts and pubic hair were facing me, sometimes her buttocks and cleavage. As I teased her, I noticed my penis was erect and there was nowhere to hide.
We took showers one after the other, lay down in separate beds, and then it was their turn. To my surprise, he generously told my girlfriend, "You shower first, I'll browse the internet for a while." After
showering, my girlfriend wrapped herself tightly in a towel and snuggled into my bed, then it was his turn to shower.
After he got into bed, things started to get a little awkward.
My girlfriend's towel was still wrapped tightly around her, and it was firmly holding my fingers.
After about 10 seconds of silence, he made two back-and-forth arrow gestures at me, and I saw him say, "Switch?"
The moment I lifted the covers, my girlfriend seemed to want to strangle me. I was like, "What?! How long has it been since you cut your nails?!" I turned back and kissed her, then slowly got up.
He went over to her, and I went over to her.
I'd just slipped under the covers when I touched her skin. Woo~~~ She was definitely different from the girlfriend I was used to. The skin was different, the firmness of her flesh was different, reminding me that this was indeed another woman. My hand slowly moved to her lower abdomen, and she smiled slightly at me. My hand, having received permission, moved to her breasts, squeezing and pressing. She leaned forward slightly and hummed softly.
He also slipped under the covers with his girlfriend, and the blankets began to rise and fall. They were whispering something, but I couldn't hear what they were saying.
My hand slowly descended, touching the grass. Further down, the warm, moist crevice revealed only my middle finger, swaying gently. At this moment, sounds began to escape her throat.
My girlfriend was also making low sounds; I didn't know, but I was eager to know, which part of her body he was arousing.
Young and impetuous, stimulated by my girlfriend's sounds, I tentatively began, then got to work.
He turned around and asked, "Have you started?" I hummed in agreement and buried myself in my work. We did this for over ten minutes, front and back, before they stopped. "What happened?" I asked, panting.
He smiled, "Nothing, you guys continue, I'm slow to warm up, I'll come back later."
Suddenly feeling embarrassed, I stepped back onto my girlfriend's bed, and he followed.
But as soon as I got under the covers, oh my god, my girlfriend's towel was still perfectly still! He'd only been scratching the surface!
My girlfriend, as if taking advantage of me, whispered in my ear, "My towel was wrapped tightly, and he couldn't untie it!"
I couldn't cry or laugh! (I was both amused and annoyed, and I even wanted to spank her!)
He explained that everything was normal when he and his wife were alone. But in this situation, he wanted to cultivate the relationship more slowly. I understood; this was the reason for their imperfection last time. I could also understand, just like when I make love on the phone or video chat, I get distracted and it ends at 6:30.
Later, he suggested that I continue with his wife, except I would be from behind and he from the front, while my girlfriend would be an observer.
I understood his intentions (don't blame me for being arrogant, I'm just a kind person), so I did as he suggested, letting her moans echo throughout the room again.
Afterwards, they lingered for a moment before getting up to leave. Since they lived with their parents, we didn't force them, leaving me alone to release my girlfriend's already overflowing flood!
My girlfriend was still unsatisfied, grumbling to herself.
————————————————————————
Years have passed, and he remains an unresolved issue in my girlfriend's heart.
Last year, my girlfriend became my wife. After a few years of dormancy, dating activities started to resurface. Struggling to find a suitable partner, I mentioned him.
"Him—?! Is he even a good match?" My wife seemed dismissive.
"That's a special case. He already has a child!" Later, through our intermittent contact, I learned he had a baby.
"It still needs to be four people." In my wife's mind, three people felt a little unfair to me.
"Okay, then I'll contact them."
When I met him again on QQ, I told him my idea. He agreed, and they went out a couple of times, but then it was a while since they'd met. So we arranged to meet one weekend at a suburban motel he strongly recommended.
Unfortunately, that Saturday, his wife suddenly went on a business trip. My wife was immediately unhappy. We'd agreed on four people; what did it mean if she didn't come?
I tactfully told him to cancel the plans, and then it suddenly occurred to me, why not just the three of us? So I cautiously suggested it to my wife. She initially strongly disagreed, but after I brought it up again, she surprisingly softened her stance—I was overjoyed! "Don't you want to know if he's up to the task? Maybe he can just concentrate. Besides, we still owe him one time; consider this repayment. Maybe he still won't be able to, and then we won't have to repay him."
My wife finally agreed, and my sworn brother immediately sprang to life! I knew that deep down she also wanted to have sex with him, and seeing my strong encouragement, she gradually went along with it. I was also very curious to see what it would be like to let him in.
I hurriedly told him to continue with the original meeting plan, but that day the guy was shopping at the supermarket and couldn't hear his phone ring. Just as my wife was about to change her mind, the phone rang. Damn it! He
was so excited when he heard my message—his words and actions were more undisguised than when I gave him a gift during a holiday.
Night fell, and we waited for his car by the roadside.
The phone rang. "Some idiot rear-ended my car! Don't worry, I'll come pick you up after I've taken care of the paperwork!"
A whole scare! I knew my wife's temper was about to flare up, and sure enough—she rattled off every possible excuse.
But we, including my wife, were torn. If we didn't want to go, we wouldn't have waited until 10 pm.
Finally, after my persistent insistence, a BMW slowly pulled up in front of us. I noticed the driver's side door was dented. He poked his head out. "Get in! I'm so sorry, so many paperwork with the traffic police and insurance..."
"Wow, you've upgraded your car?!" I exclaimed excitedly. Suddenly, I thought, "Brother, if you can upgrade to a better car tonight, it won't be a waste of our time!"
A good car is a good car; even the sound system has such a powerful subwoofer.
We sped along, belting out songs.
The car elegantly turned into a seemingly quiet but subtly fragrant club.
When we were collecting payment at the entrance, the young man glanced into the car—two men and a woman. I thought, "You must see single men and women all the time. Tonight, with two men and a woman, you can have your imagination run wild, but don't take it personally..."
We entered the garage, got out of the car, and went inside.
The room was indeed artistically decorated. Exquisitely carved walls, a huge bed, a jacuzzi, and much more.
He ordered noodles; he'd been starving and needed to replenish his energy, poor thing.
I knew I wasn't really interested in eating. While he ate his noodles, I smoked.
We chatted about our lives, naturally venturing into the topic of friendship. We'd been friends for years, so there was no awkwardness in our conversation. The annoying thing was how terrible the TV programs were these days, forcing my wife to constantly change the channels.
He finally finished eating and suggested that we, my wife, and I go for a bath. My wife, still hesitant, refused. We compromised and let her take a shower instead. Watching my wife go into the shower (the shower is inside, not visible from the tub), we undressed and
went into the tub, trying my best not to get an erection. My wife finished showering, wrapped herself in a towel, and got into bed.
We whispered about the routine in the tub. He then got up to shower. Then he got into bed, and I went to shower.
Washing my hair, brushing my teeth, lathering with soap—a complete process that took 5 minutes.
When I got to the bedside, my wife was already softly moaning. I suddenly pulled back the covers, and the guy's hand darted back! I laughed so hard I almost fell over, while my wife wriggled and pouted.
"Okay, okay, I won't disturb you, I need to use the toilet." I knew my presence would distract them, especially him.
Sitting on the toilet, just as I lit a cigarette, I heard my wife's voice getting louder. Suddenly, my wife screamed, "Ah!—!" I knew the guy had gone in!
I hadn't even taken off my bath towel, and when I heard that sound, I rushed over. I gently pulled back the blanket, and there he was, his penis going in and out of my wife's body…
My wife's eyes were tightly closed, her mouth open, her body writhing…
He would hold her legs, then rub her breasts with both hands…
I turned on my phone's camera, using close-ups and long shots, constantly changing the focus, constantly searching for the right angle. They were going crazy, and I was going crazy.
Finally, he wanted to ejaculate, but my wife refused, only willing to help him come with his hand. Later, I rated this move's ecstasy level: 95.
My wife has specific positions for orgasm, and I stood on the shoulders of giants, helping her soar twice…
Thinking back on past experiences still makes my heart race as I type this. They are the best couple we know; their open-mindedness and trust allowed us to achieve this. The purpose of friendship between couples should be both starting and ending with friendship. Friendship inherently involves tension, tension with a desire for release, and release that elevates friendship and care—this is what we strive for. It's late now, so I won't elaborate further. My wife should have taken a nap. I should go find her now and let loose; there should be a chance. Late at night is the most wonderful time for lovemaking. The sounds seep through the walls and into the neighbors' ears, inevitably leading to a fleeting, blissful dream—a real-life Inception.

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