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Home >> 1 Erotic stories>> 【experience】
Blogger:Ah Hong 2022-03-28

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【experience】 

After having sex with my first college boyfriend at the age of 21, I began to understand and enjoy the mysterious and pleasurable aspects of sex. My initial experience with sex was shy and passive. Through intensive daily training in sexual concepts and watching pornography, I gradually gained an understanding of the male and female bodies. I felt a stirring within me.
Man A's penis wasn't particularly large, but his penetration was long and gentle. At that time, I was shy and didn't know how to flirt or enjoy it, but I still enjoyed the tender embraces and pleasure in his arms.
Over time, I came to believe that this was the charm of married life: simple, real, and warm. After the breakup, what I often missed wasn't the passion of that intimacy, but rather the state of mind; that man's body and parts became a vague memory—I only loved the love itself.
Man B was my long-distance lover. At the beginning, I was only attracted by his sunny, boyish smile and tall, upright figure of 183cm. I always felt so small under his shoulders. Perhaps because of the long-distance relationship, even sex was something I cherished all the more. Each time, we would fully enjoy, entwine, and fall asleep only when we were completely exhausted. Only then could we truly become so obsessed with sex and enjoy the fusion of love. We were each other's second chance after our first loves failed, exploring each other's experiences, caressing each other's bodies, searching for sensitive spots, and enjoying the pleasure of oral sex—until the floodwaters flowed. His body captivated and attracted me; tall and strong, we were jokingly a perfect match as brothers.
Our first time was in a karaoke bar during a trip to Beijing. The impulse after the hug and kiss was incredibly strong. Our bodies throbbed, our hands exploring each other, trembling as we entered, merged, moaned, gasped, and convulsed to the peak. We lingered in each other's warm embrace, reluctant to
part. We could only meet once a month, or perhaps more often due to business trips. Each meeting lasted 48 hours, and the excitement swelled uncontrollably from the moment we got off the train. Eating, laughing, and hugging were luxurious memories. In hotels, we were meticulous about choosing rooms and locations, always creating a romantic atmosphere.
What I can't forget is the longing during the SARS outbreak. I recklessly rented a car and drove to the heart of the most dangerous city. He drove, I rented a car, and after we met, we only shared a knowing hug and a sweet smile. Afraid of worrying his parents, we could only enjoy our brief reunion in a simple rented room. After parting, I was physically exhausted and emotionally dejected because of the impending separation. Long-distance relationships have limited lifespans. Due to many practical factors, I initiated the breakup. Only I truly understand the heartache and the sense of loss without any ties.
Perhaps it was because I had become accustomed to sex, but as a mature woman, I began to crave love and fulfillment again. However, things didn't go as planned. In this restless and adrift era, the luxury of love meant that everyone who came close to each other maintained a distance, searching for the best way to survive. Thus, the fast-food kind of love emerged. It directly became a means of emotional connection, a way to express oneself, a release, and a sexual outlet.
I met C at a friend's gathering. After a heartfelt rendition of A-Du's "Tearing the Night," I began to notice this somewhat aloof, tall, and thin man. My woman's intuition told me he was also watching me. Was it physical loneliness? I rashly agreed to drive with him to Fragrant Hills at night. Under the starlight, everything seemed wild and irresistibly alluring. Our first intimate encounter in the car was a passionate embrace, kissing, and even touching, but no actual intercourse. We were both slightly fastidious. The next day, we drove to a resort. That night, I couldn't let go of traditional constraints and didn't let him truly possess my body—even though we were both ready to climax at first.
Subconsciously, I told myself to be self-respecting—because he had a girlfriend, a man about to get married. A stranger who had had two abortions for him called me in tears after I decided to leave this twisted attraction, and I only indifferently advised her to be cautious about marriage.
Indifference, coldness, and calmness. All the beauty made me increasingly rational, and the years of growth slowly eroded
my maturity. I claimed to be a moral, high-quality, and cultured woman, yet I couldn't escape the clichés of online romance. Then, D, a humorous, witty, cultured, and knowledgeable tall man, reappeared in my life. Sexually, I was so lucky; emotionally, I was the poorest of all, because he was already married. I once cursed: "Stay away from all those married men
, you son of a bitch!!!" I really feel like a woman destined for extramarital affairs, needlessly indulging in the pleasures of a utopia! But I only want to be involved with men who aren't married or have wives. What the hell are men?! They deceive a woman into trusting and relying on them to enter into marriage, but why do they always seduce other women in real life? I'm truly helpless against this attraction. In comparison, married men are generally more romantic and skilled in their sex lives. They understand when a woman's body blossoms, when it erupts, and when it needs them! They know how to cooperate with their partner in enjoying sex, how to stimulate the senses with words, how to be gentle during penetration, how to synchronize ejaculation, how to tenderly kiss every inch of your skin, how red wine can be a flirting agent, and how to suggest sexy lingerie.
It's pathetic that everything they possess is a result of advocating for wives, which they then offer to another woman. I am a contradictory individual, unwilling to be ridiculed by social morality; I am burdened! Because of my good upbringing and deeply ingrained traditions, I will not be a third party—I will escape and disappear without a trace.
God still favors me, giving me the man I currently have, E. We have never had sex, and we rarely even kiss. I also fear the disappointment that follows physical intimacy.
I have a burden in my heart and need time to erase the memories. I sincerely want to build a family with E; he is a man who makes me feel secure and reliable. He works hard, has simple social life, and most importantly, loves me wholeheartedly. I haven't asked how many women he's had before, nor do I know anything about his health or sexual ability. I consider our union with extreme rationality, knowing it's self-deception, but I want to return to a family, marry a man who loves and cherishes me, have a substantial income, and enjoy the life we create together.
So be it, a simple woman's ordinary life, proceeding relatively calmly after a period of trials. I'm writing this to share with friends who have experienced or are currently experiencing similar situations. Regardless of the reactions, traditional women are still beautiful.

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