Comforting me in place of my wife

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

On the first anniversary of my wife's death, I suddenly understood many things.

A year has passed since my wife left, leaving me with a lovely three-year-old daughter, the only ray of sunshine in my year-long, aimless existence.

On that gloomy afternoon, I sat before her grave, talking to her for a long time, describing what her life was like after she left. I come every month, the heart-wrenching wounds long since covered and deeply hidden. In this deserted cemetery, I only feel loneliness.

My wife and I were high school classmates, inseparable for over a decade through thick and thin. Even during our fiercest arguments, we never strayed, always deeply believing that the other was our soulmate.

We weren't just soulmates; our sex life was incredibly harmonious.

We were each other's first. Back then, we were still in school, only able to occasionally indulge in forbidden fruit. The internet wasn't developed then; we didn't even know what porn was. Everything was explored and accomplished by two shy teenagers on their own.

It took us over two years to achieve this perfect harmony during our first National Day holiday in university. My wife experienced her first true orgasm, and I experienced an unprecedented, ultimate pleasure.

Actually, my physical condition is average—average height, average build, average looks—just an ordinary person. My penis size is also average, far from the size some people in porn or online claim.

My wife and I usually have sex for about 40 minutes to an hour each time. Don't be surprised, that's not the entire duration of penetration; I'm not that strong.

Usually, we lie on our sides, and I penetrate her from behind, while we talk sweet nothings and move slowly. Once the atmosphere is aroused, sometimes she's on top, sometimes I ride on one leg for a while, and finally we finish with doggy style or the traditional position. During this

time, we take short breaks as needed (wriggling or slow penetration). Over time, my wife usually has about two orgasms each time.

To be honest, it wasn't until much later that I learned some couples have incompatible sex lives, and some even break up or divorce.

For example, Yang Xue, my wife's college roommate and best friend. After graduating from college, she dated someone, got married, and divorced after only a few months. Later, when she talked to my wife, she mentioned that her husband was impotent. Back then, QQ was popular, and Yang Xue even subtly asked me how long it took when we chatted. However, back then I was a clueless, clueless guy, and I didn't even understand such a blatant hint.

I'll tell Yang Xue's story in more detail later. Back to the present, I thought our life would continue peacefully and with its little joys, until we were old and gray, surrounded by our children and grandchildren, until illness shattered us.

My wife stubbornly lived on for a long time after receiving the death certificate. I knew she couldn't let go of me, and even more so, she couldn't let go of our daughter. In the final moments of her life, she would often gaze at me with tender eyes for a long time, asking if I remembered our promise.

I answered that I remembered.

She had once said, in the height of our love, that life is only a hundred years long. If that day came, please forgive her selfishness; she had to go first.

She said, "I can't bear life without you." Little did I know that her words would become a prophecy.

Now, she said, "No, I hope that after I'm gone, you'll be well, find someone who loves you, and not be lonely."

I broke down instantly. She hugged me, patting my back, "A grown man, don't cry." After a pause, she added, "A complete family is incredibly important for a child; Linlin can't be without her mother."

A year later, sitting before her grave, I felt a sudden, profound understanding of those words.

I stroked the cold tombstone, long-forgotten tears blurring my vision: "Thank you, Niannian, even though you're gone, you still illuminate my life."

By the time I got home, it was almost dark. Downstairs, I saw Sister Mu's car.

Sister Mu, whose real name is Zhou Muxi, is my wife's colleague and best friend.

The first time I saw her, I inexplicably felt she looked remarkably like my wife. Actually, they don't look alike at all; perhaps it's because I know my wife so well that I feel they're similar in spirit or inner self—I can't quite explain it.

Sister Mu is a little taller, fairer, thinner, and more beautiful than my wife. My wife's figure changed drastically after giving birth to our child. Sister Mu, on the other hand, is unmarried and maintains a great figure. She exudes a strong scholarly air, intelligent and capable. When chatting with my wife, we both found it strange that such a woman couldn't get married. My wife said that Sister Mu had two boyfriends before, one in college and one after she started working, neither relationship lasting. She also went on several blind dates, but none of them worked out. About five years ago, she suddenly stopped going on blind dates and stopped looking for a boyfriend, remaining single ever since. Sister

Mu isn't very old, 340 years old this year, not much older than my wife, even a little younger than me. I call her Sister Mu because of my wife.

When my wife was alive, we were very close. Sometimes we would go out together, go to hot springs (not mixed baths, don't get the wrong idea), and visit trendy restaurants.

Even then, I thought Sister Mu was very special; she was a very gentle person, and when she listened to you, she would look you intently into your eyes, her gaze clear. I've had her on WeChat for a long time, but we didn't contact each other much before. About five or six years ago, when my wife introduced us, we kept in touch intermittently for a while. She asked me about computer problems and choosing a mobile phone. After that, we stopped contacting each other, not even sending New Year's greetings. We met quite often, though, but it was always my wife who contacted us.

After my daughter Linlin was born, she became Mu Jie's godmother. In the year since my wife passed away, Mu Jie has visited the child every month. Linlin is very close to her, and she helped me a lot that year.

After my wife's death, I vacated my large house so Linlin could live with my parents. My job requires frequent overtime, so I live alone in a small one-bedroom apartment. Our houses aren't far apart, so I can spend time with my child when I'm not busy, and won't disturb her when I am.

Clearly, Mu Jie had finished visiting the child today and was waiting for me. She knew what I had been doing.

I knocked on the car window, and Mu Jie, lost in thought, was startled.

I said, "Have you been waiting long? Let's go upstairs."

Sister Mu locked her car and said, "I just finished seeing Linlin, so I came to see you. Um... are you alright?"

As we went upstairs, I said, "I'm fine, what could possibly be wrong?"

Seeing how relaxed I sounded, she snorted and laughed, "Showing off."

Once inside, Sister Mu was very informal, asking if I wanted some water. We're practically family, and Sister Mu has taken good care of me this past year. Even my parents have hinted a few times that I should consider pursuing Sister Mu, which I firmly rejected. After a few times, they stopped mentioning it.

I slumped onto the sofa, and Sister Mu brought me a glass of water, sat down beside me, and asked if I was tired.

Today, Sister Mu was wearing a knitted maroon short-sleeved shirt with a broken collar, like a choker. She wore a beige knee-length skirt and black stockings. By my own standards, Sister Mu's looks are actually a 6 out of 10, better than average, but not exceptionally beautiful.

For some reason, I was paying special attention to Sister Mu today, and even felt a little thirsty.

I quickly took a sip of water and asked her, "Did you come straight from work?"

She said yes, she missed Linlin. Then we chatted about everyday things.

I was a little dazed, and I didn't really hear what she said. Her image in my mind swayed and grew larger, filling my field of vision.

Sister Mu noticed my strange gaze, her face flushed, and she stared at me, asking if I wasn't feeling well.

I felt something awaken within me; I could actually see desire in her eyes?

I wasn't sure, and I fell into deep self-doubt. After all, I was just a clueless, clueless straight man before, so oblivious to even blatant hints.

Sister Mu's hand reached for my forehead, her eyes filled with desire mixed with concern: "Are you alright?"

Her fair hand carried a faint fragrance.

I grabbed the offered hand, pulling its owner into my arms amidst Sister Mu's gasp.

The person in my arms was soft and fragrant.

Sister Mu seemed startled; she struggled, repeatedly saying, "No, don't do this, A-Feng, let me go."

Her vibrant lips seemed right before my eyes, tempting me.

Sister Mu sensed my intention, her resistance noticeably intensifying, but her voice lowered: "Tang Feng, no, no, don't do this, An Nian..."

An Nian!!!

An Nian struck like lightning. My blurred vision instantly cleared. Sister Mu pulled away from my embrace, her shoulders trembling slightly, looking at me with a trembling, pitiful gaze. I understood; she was worried she had said the wrong thing, hurting my sore spot, reopening my wounds. She didn't know that today, at An Nian's grave, my wife, my An Nian, had already resolved my inner conflict.

But I hurt Sister Mu.

"I'm...sorry, Sister Mu, I...I..."

I couldn't face Sister Mu. I turned halfway, wanting to take a step back. I had only taken half a step when Sister Mu grabbed my waist from behind, pressed her face against my back, and only managed to utter half a "no" before bursting into tears.

I was a little confused, but I knew that Sister Mu still had feelings for me. I gently patted her hand, trying to wait for her to calm down, but she seemed to have suffered a great injustice, and once she started crying, she couldn't stop. I tried several times to pry her hands off, but she only held on tighter, rubbing her face against my back and shaking her head.

I patted her hand and whispered, "It's okay, let go first, let me turn around..." Sister Mu understood what I meant, let go, and as soon as I turned around, she threw herself into my arms, hugging me tightly, as if I would fly away if she let go.

Sister Mu cried for a good ten minutes before slowly calming down. Her head was buried in my chest, trembling slightly. I smoothed the stray hairs at her temples and lifted her face by her chin.

Sister Mu's face was flushed, and she looked at me with teary eyes, saying, "I..."

I didn't allow her to finish her sentence and kissed her lips hard.

Sister Mu made a soft "Mmm," her body stiffened, and she hugged me even tighter. I pried open her lips and pulled out her soft, fragrant tongue. Sister Mu's tongue was small and soft, and I sucked on it passionately. I also put my thick tongue into her mouth and swept it up and down. Sister Mu's body went limp,

but it was very passionate.

We kissed for a long time until Sister Mu was almost out of breath before I let her go.

Sister Mu's face was flushed, and there was still saliva at the corners of her mouth. She looked at me with hazy eyes and said, "Feng, I'm sorry, I..." Before she could finish speaking, I kissed her again, while my hand touched her pert buttocks. Sister Mu hummed twice in protest, then let me knead her.

Don't let her 33 years fool you; at just over 160cm tall and weighing less than 100 pounds, she maintained a great figure, especially her buttocks—small, perky, and incredibly soft to the touch.

After a while, I lifted her skirt and reached under it. Sister Mu gasped, pulling away from my wet kiss, and cried out, "No…" But it was too late.

My hand touched a muddy mess; Sister Mu's panties were soaked, and her pantyhose were also damp. Discovered of her secret, Sister Mu cried out in embarrassment, burying her face in my chest, refusing to move.

My fingers traced the crevice, feeling only moisture and heat. Sister Mu clamped her legs together in shock. I'd only ever known my wife; I'd never imagined a woman could be so wet. My wife was always quite wet, but never this much, especially since Sister Mu hadn't even had foreplay. Looking back on my experience, Sister Mu was indeed a special woman; I never met anyone like her again.

I kissed her forehead and said softly, "It's okay, let me see..." Sister Mu shook her head vigorously in my arms, saying, "No, it's so embarrassing..."

I ignored her protests, laid her down on the sofa, and took off her skirt, pantyhose, and underwear. Sister Mu protested softly but didn't resist. To me, her protests sounded like encouragement. Her

underwear was already soaked through; you could even wring water out of it. Between her parted legs, her vulva was still pink and tender; the labia majora were not visible. The vulva was a thin line, and the folded opening gently opened and closed, as if breathing. Thin strands of vaginal fluid were still seeping out, a messy sight.

I gently touched her clitoris with my hand, and Sister Mu tensed up, letting out a groan, saying, "No..."

I asked her, "Why is it so wet?" As I asked, I tried to insert a finger. It was very tight; I had only inserted one knuckle when it was tightly gripped by the vaginal muscles.

Sister Mu cried out twice, moaning, "No... I don't know, I can't... Ah... see you, and I can't... Ah... I miss you, just thinking about you makes me wet..."

I gently touched her tender flesh and asked curiously, "Can't see me?"

Sister Mu's cries grew louder: "Ahhh... Hmm... It's been five years, I... see you... and I get wet, flowing... Ah... everywhere... No more..."

Hearing her words, my heart stirred. Looking at her tender clitoris, I couldn't help but lick it. It tasted a little sour and was sticky.

Sister Mu's buttocks tightened when I licked her, and she cried out, "No... Feng... Ah... Come on... I can't take it anymore..."

Seeing how sensitive she was, I stopped teasing her and started taking off my clothes while teasing her, "What do you mean, come on?"

Sister Mu spread her legs and closed her eyes tightly, saying, "Come on... put it in..."

"Put what in?"

"..." Sister Mu bit her lip, seemingly thinking of what to say.

“Say it, cock,”

Sister Mu snorted, then whispered, “You rascal…” She bit her lip hard, “Put…your…big cock in…”

I had already disarmed myself, completely naked, half-squatting in front of her, rubbing the head of my penis up and down against her vaginal opening, asking her, “Where do you put it?”

Sister Mu twisted her buttocks, panting, and said, “My…put it in my…”

“Wrong answer.”

“No…Feng…put it in…I can’t take it anymore…”

I rubbed against her tender flesh, saying, “This is called a cunt, say it once.”

“Oh oh oh oh…okay…put it in my…oh…cunt…”

“Say it properly…open your eyes…look and say it…”

Sister Mu shook her head in shame, then slowly opened her eyes, watching my penis rub against her cunt, moaning, “So big…Feng…put your…please…put your…oh…put your big cock…into my cunt…I…ah…”

Before she could finish, I thrust hard, and amidst her moans, inserted the head of my penis. It was so tight. Her vagina was burning hot, and soft, tender flesh pressed against me from all sides. If it weren't for her abundant vaginal fluids, I wouldn't have been able to penetrate her at all. Even with all that fluid, I couldn't go all the way in

at once. I first inserted the head of my penis, then slowly withdrew, then slowly inserted again, each time going deeper than the last, repeating this eight or nine times until I was finally almost there.

Sister Mu trembled all over, her hands gripping my waist, constantly moaning, "So big... slower... ah... so big... I haven't done this in years... slower..."

My experience was no less intense than hers. As my penis penetrated deeper, her cunt gripped me tightly, a slight pain mixed with immense pleasure. Sister Mu's cunt reminded me of my wife's virginity.

With the final thrust, I forcefully inserted my entire penis, seemingly reaching Sister Mu's deepest point. The head of my penis touched something neither hard nor soft. That thing felt like a small mouth, subtly sucking at my glans. An uncontrollable wave of pleasure surged up my spine, raising goosebumps all over my body.

Just then, Sister Mu cried out, her legs straightening, her toes clenched tightly, knuckles turning white. Her body flushed pink, her buttocks contracting rapidly and rhythmically. Her cunt tightened from the inside out, like an iron clamp gripping my penis. The force of that contraction was so strong it hurt, abruptly extinguishing my pleasure. Her contractions weren't a single one; the first contraction was the strongest and longest, then gradually decreased, subsiding after three to five contractions. Her vagina regained its tightness, even becoming more lubricated due to the gushing out of her vaginal fluids.

During this time, Sister Mu tilted her head back, making meaningless "hoarse" sounds. The whole process lasted about a minute, after which Sister Mu slowly came to her senses.

I looked down at her, making no move, just thrusting deep inside, and said with a smile, "You're not serious? You had an orgasm? I only just thrust a few times, and I'm only all the way in."

Unexpectedly, Sister Mu burst into tears again, almost scaring my penis into weakness. I quickly kissed her cheek lightly, gently comforting her.

This time, she didn't cry as hard, sobbing as she said, "Feng, I've wanted this day for five years... I'm sorry, I was too excited... You don't have to worry about me... Take good care of me... Take it hard..."

Hearing her sweet words, I wrapped her legs around my waist, picked her up, and carried her into the bedroom with my penis still inside her.

I won't sleep tonight.

[The End]

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