Reposted: Going for a massage with my husband

The masseur was a very muscular man, even a bit overweight, at least 1.8 meters tall! Because I was shy and kept my head down ,
I didn't dare see his face clearly, but he seemed alright. You know, we women judge men by our feelings
; the most important thing is the feeling, if the feeling is right, then it's right. I stood at the farthest corner of the bed from the door, trying to
make myself look more natural, forcing a smile… The masseur's voice was soft; he gently asked what
my name was. My husband answered for me, saying, "Just call her Juanjuan!"

He was carrying a briefcase-like bag, then took out a bottle of something I couldn't identify,
and asked, "Would you like to take a shower first?"

I had already showered before leaving, but thinking about what I was going to do later, I felt I should shower again… Now
I was facing a man… what if he meant he wanted to shower with me? Thinking this, I suddenly felt
hot all over, almost unable to stand. I quickly said I had already showered, just now.

Then he gestured for me to take off my clothes, so I blushed and took off my outer clothes first, revealing my transparent underwear
. I noticed that he and my husband were both staring at my body. The air
conditioning , but now I wished my husband would turn it up a bit. I burrowed under the sheets, unsure
where to look. I only heard my husband say in his unusually dry voice, "My wife is very ticklish,
so..."

The masseur first expressed his regret, then went on to describe his technique. I
didn't hear a word he said. All I could think about was where I could look without being impolite. Maybe I should close my eyes? But this
masseur was very polite... Hmm! If you're also looking for a massage to relax, I suggest you get a
feel for his attitude over the phone first.

"Juanjuan... um! Do you mind if I take off my clothes?" The masseuse hinted in a gentle tone, "The oil massage
will get them dirty!"

I started taking off my bra from under the sheet, and hesitated when taking off my panties... not because I was hesitant about whether I
should take them off or not, since I was here and they were here, there was no reason not to take them off. What I was thinking was
that my movements would be clearly visible through the thin sheet, so how could I take them off gracefully? To be honest, even now I don't know
if I took them off gracefully.

Although I was covered by the sheet, I was completely naked, and the feeling was a mix of fear, nervousness, and excitement. But this
sheet only needed to be lifted slightly... My husband came over, took my underwear, kissed my cheek, and then
sat down on a chair next to me, crossed his legs, and started smoking again.

At this time, the masseuse also started taking off his clothes. He explained that it was an oil massage, so he had to take them off too. To my relief
, he wasn't completely naked; he was still wearing a small pair of panties. I didn't consciously pay attention, but I still caught a
glimpse. His buttocks were small, and they looked powerful against his physique. As for that area… it felt plump,
not unlike my husband's.

Then he told me to turn over. I turned over and lay face down on the pillow, which made me
feel . Then I thought to myself, what is this damn husband doing now, watching his wife being touched by someone else
? Am I enjoying this, or is he? The masseur slowly lifted the sheet, and as the sheet
was removed, my skin came into contact with the cold air in the room. This reminded me that my body was now completely exposed to
a strange man…

I guessed this wasn't a real oil massage, just lotion. The lotion felt so cold on my skin. "You have
a great figure, such fair skin, your husband is so lucky!"

The masseur's voice was very soft. His whisper made me feel like I was doing something incredible behind my husband's back
, but the room was small, and I knew my husband could definitely hear me. His compliments, though perhaps just
a professional habit, were still comforting to hear, and my shyness began to disappear. I've said before, women
live by their feelings.

He started by massaging my shoulders, very gently, asking in my ear if it hurt, if he was being
too rough. The tension from before was starting to dissipate… It felt so good, so good that I forgot
there was a man in his underwear next to me, so good that I forgot I was naked, so good that I almost fell asleep…

Just as I was relaxing, the masseur's hands moved down to my back. Massaging my shoulders
was fine , but as he moved down, I started to feel ticklish… I'm really ticklish; whenever I'm angry or
upset, my husband uses tickling to deal with me. Honestly, I don't know which part of my body
isn't ticklish.

Although it tickles, I'm too embarrassed to say it; you know, women are afraid of being laughed at. I think I shifted slightly, and
this man, being experienced, noticed even the slightest movement. He asked in a low voice, "It tickles?" I
softly "Mmm!" His voice was so gentle, and he was so attentive. My initial shyness almost completely disappeared
, leaving only trust, just like my trust in my husband. Of course, a large part of it was also because I
was lying face down; it seemed that hiding my face increased my sense of security.

His hands continued to massage and slowly move downwards. When he reached my waist, I chuckled.
Hearing my laughter, he laughed too, and all the tension in the room vanished. It was a very special
experience; when you expose your flaws and find that the other person doesn't care, the relationship instantly becomes
much closer. So I told him I was ticklish, especially my waist… Talking to him felt so natural
, like telling my hairstylist what kind of hairstyle I wanted. This ease only lasted
a second , because when his hands left my waist and slid to my buttocks,

he didn't rush to do anything. He first poured some lotion on my buttocks and then started massaging. Several
times I felt he was about to touch my genitals, so close, but as if he had accidentally and apologetically pulled
away. I knew he would eventually touch there, but I was still afraid. Some things
you can never get used to.

With a mix of nervousness and anticipation, his hand left my buttocks and moved down. On one hand, I
was a little disappointed that he had given up on getting to "the important stuff," and on the other hand, I started to worry that the itchy nerves in my legs were too sensitive.
Suddenly, he started to gently massage my feet and said, "Your legs are so beautiful, so white and slender, so beautiful..."
I knew he was sincere, at least I felt it was. Feelings are my whole life.

Then he started kissing my legs, even stroking my cheeks while holding my insteps, as if he'd discovered some of the world's most
beautiful treasure… At first, I resisted, trying to pull away. No one had ever kissed my legs, no one had ever praised my
feet. Maybe my parents had, but at least not since I can remember. He didn't let me go like he had during the massage earlier;
he pulled me back, kissing me, and I felt his tongue darting between my toes…

It wasn't the physical pleasure, but a psychological emotion; I almost felt like crying. This
was the first time someone had kissed a place I'd never even noticed before.

Some say women are "developed," and I tell you, that's absolutely true. From
the first time we held hands, to my first kiss and caresses with my husband, I still remember the shock I felt when I first touched his penis
. Women rarely know what they want or don't want; they need a good man to guide them. We're not
as rough as men; women are independent creatures like cats. I believe no two women feel
the same way about sex, and at least a third of any sex education book you can find is wrong. Time seemed to
stretch on forever. I was completely immersed in a feeling of being moved, and I didn't even notice his hand had moved to my
crotch. When he touched my genitals, I realized how big his hand was, but also how delicate it was. He didn't
directly violate my most intimate area; he just stroked back and forth between my thighs, occasionally and seemingly unintentionally touching the cleft between my buttocks before
immediately moving away, almost imperceptibly. I felt my whole body relax, dissolve. This still wasn't pleasure,
but I knew he was touching me, this gentle man was touching me…

His hand slowly covered my genitals, completely covering them and gently kneading them, like a
guardian angel. After a while, his fingers began to probe inside and outside the cleft, and suddenly
he found my most sensitive clitoris, just lightly brushing against it. In that instant, I let out a soft "Mmm!"
I knew I shouldn't have, but I felt like a small boat adrift on a gentle ocean, suddenly
struck by lightning...

I realized I was already wet; his touch made me feel my clitoris was covered in love juice, his fingers
easily gliding and teasing it. Every muscle in my body was awakened, uncontrollably, I arched my hips
, but he remained gentle, unhurried and unconcerned. The first pleasure came slowly; besides
gripping the sheets tightly, I couldn't do anything. This tidal wave of pleasure wouldn't subside, not like the waves people describe
, but more like a tsunami, you never know where it will reach. His hands were so light,
penetrating my lower body so naturally; I could hear the sound of water from my genitals, like waves crashing against rocks... I
could hold back my cries, but my body wouldn't cooperate. I wanted to roll, to leap, but my body was
downward , a sense of powerlessness rising within me; besides trying to raise my hips as high as possible to meet his thrusts, I was helpless. I think I
'm about to cry, maybe I already have... but his gentleness still won't let me go.

I didn't know I could be so wet, like a dam bursting, unstoppable. Actually, there's no need for
sex, no need for any movement. Now, sitting here recalling the lewd sounds my lower body made,
my heart feels like it's about to explode, and my face is as red as an apple.

Then his hand left, and suddenly I felt empty, my hand also leaving the sheets.
I think if it weren't for the sheets I was holding onto, I would have screamed, screamed with all my might.

He turned me around. This man is so strong, like a god,
gently . Turning my head, I see my husband. I can't see his face clearly, but I know
he saw everything that just happened. My husband is still smoking, maintaining the same sitting posture.

I don't know if it's shame or excitement, a certain emotion fills my chest. My husband is watching me being
played with, and I shamelessly reach orgasm… I feel a surge of love from my husband; I know he loves
me this way, loves that I let my truest self shine through. But it's difficult; I can only turn my emotions to the sheets
. Only then do I realize how sore my fingers are.

He leans closer, kissing my nipples and groping them. He gently
strokes my breasts, occasionally caressing my nipples. My nipples are very sensitive; every time he touches one, my
whole body trembles, just like my husband trembles when he ejaculates.

His face comes closer, a simple face, weathered by time. I suddenly have an urge to kiss him
, but that would be so foolish, wouldn't it?

He gently bites my earlobe… Oh my god! Heavy breathing fills my ear, and I feel
dizzy. Like a broken doll stripped of its soul, my body had vanished, leaving only the
sound of my breathing, heavy breathing… The dizziness persisted, spreading like ripples, then starting again, constantly
expanding. This person had found my weakness, my most vulnerable point. Besides telling me my feet were beautiful, he had
found my most vulnerable spot.

“Do you like it?” he whispered in my ear. Uncontrollably, I said, “I like it!” I think I
still retained a sliver of reason. If this person were my husband, I would have hugged him tightly and shouted, “I
love you!”

I could feel his genitals rubbing against my waist, very hard… I thought he was doing it on purpose, perhaps he wanted
me? Just then, he reached one hand towards my genitals and gently stroked my hair with the other, saying, “You’re so beautiful,
really so beautiful… Has anyone told you you’re beautiful?”

Then the hand stroking my hair left, and he gently took my hand, touching his genitals
through my small underwear. Was it because he was frightened? This was the first time I'd ever touched the genitals of a man other than my husband
. I snapped out of my reverie and immediately withdrew my hand. He didn't force me; he moved away
, gently pushing my legs apart and beginning to kiss my genitals.

It was a fusion of shame and pleasure. I tried to pull my legs back slightly
, leaving them half-open, but he gently pushed them completely open again, my entire vulva exposed
to a stranger. His tongue swirled around my clitoris, and waves of sensation washed over me.
With the climax, my legs, which had been slightly tense, completely relaxed and opened. I moved closer to him, wanting only to be closer.
Closer…and then I finally made a sound, starting to moan unrestrainedly.

All shame was cast aside; I only knew I wanted more, more, I wanted him to give me more pleasure. I don't
know if I cried out "I love you," but I think I at least cried out "Give it to me, give it to me again…" It wasn't because
he was licking so beautifully, but because my legs were open, I was opening my legs to welcome this man.

I was tired, almost breathless…and he was back in my ear. The constant, intertwined pleasures,
all sorts of different pleasures, with his kisses I forgot everything…I don't know why I reached out
and pulled his penis out of his underwear.

At first, I just gently touched it, feeling his hardness, feeling the throbbing of his penis, its thickness.
Slowly , I started to go crazy, rubbing it recklessly, my mind only wanting to rub until he ejaculated, to ejaculate
as much semen as possible.

His hand finally entered my lower body. As his fingers moved, I grew increasingly excited, and I
could feel his excitement too. I was practically going crazy, writhing my hips on the bed,
moaning and panting.

An orgasm came; I arched my back, almost instantly experiencing another. I was so tired, unable to hold his alluring
penis, unable to arch my back any further. So tired, I didn't know how many orgasms I'd experienced…
I wanted to kiss him, but I couldn't, I knew I couldn't.

Was it time, or did he think I'd had enough? In truth, I was satisfied, though
not with penetration. But I knew I had a husband later, and I would want him to penetrate me once or twice
. After the masseur left, if he refused, I would rape him… But at that moment, my mind was filled
with the image of the masseur's penis.

I knew my husband was coming; I closed my eyes, unable to look at him. No matter what, I had done
something so shameful in front of him. My husband looked down and asked if I wanted the full service… I didn’t know. I knew I should say no,
but damn it, all I could think about was that hard thing I’d just been holding. This damn man was testing me,
but I couldn’t refuse. Damn it, I just couldn’t say no. My husband asked again, and I didn’t answer
because I couldn’t say yes, but I couldn’t say no either.

I don’t know what my husband and the masseuse did. They didn’t say anything, but I guessed they were shaking their heads
or nodding. I turned to the side, closed my eyes, and turned my back to them. Although the passion was still there, I didn’t dare look at my husband, nor
did I want to look at the masseuse again, afraid that I would lose control and say yes. My

husband returned to the bedside. He started kissing me and whispered in my ear, “Juanjuan! I love you, you’re so
amazing !” Just then, I realized that the masseuse had climbed on top of me from below… He first used his hands to spread my
legs, just as gently and skillfully. My legs weren’t unopenable, but this time was different. This time he was going to use his
… God! His huge body pressed down on me, and I felt so scared.

Then, after kissing me, my husband pulled away, abandoning me. I was so scared. Was this really going to happen? Was this the right
thing to do? He started kissing my nipples, my earlobe, and then I knew nothing more. I only knew that his
penis was rubbing against my clitoris, rubbing and rubbing. I knew I was wet, I could even feel my vagina
opening , waiting, hoping. My body was ready, and that penis I loved so much was ready too, but
… I turned my head, and my husband was there, smoking, I don’t know how many cigarettes he’d smoked. …In my daze, I thought about
my first time with my husband, and what would happen after that, and what would happen after that. How long is a moment? I only know that in that
instant, everything about my husband and me flashed through my mind like lightning, so clear, so
captivating. I love him so much, he is my only man. I know I love him, but I never realized
how deep my love was. To me, my husband is more important than everything else in the world combined.

When that person penetrated me, I could clearly feel my lower body being breached by a force; a hard,
large penis was inserted into my vagina. I felt a sense of despair, even sadness. My uniqueness was gone
, and I would never have any pride again… I turned my head towards the wall, not wanting to look at my husband.
I thought I might as well die. I didn't want to see anything except that wall covered in vulgar wallpaper.

There was no excuse; I had lost my virginity. At that moment, a completely unfamiliar penis was
freely entering and exiting my lower body—I could comfort and explain myself when my lower body was penetrated by fingers, but now it was a
penis , which would ejaculate semen that would make me give birth, a penis belonging to a man other than my husband… If it weren't for politeness,
I think I would have pushed this person away, rushed into the bathroom, poured out all my grievances, and then locked myself in there forever until I
died of old age.

That's why I advise those who want to try it to stop in moderation. Doing half a round is really enough; it's enough to let you
climb to an unprecedented peak, enough to satisfy all your fantasies.

The feeling of being penetrated by a stranger was incredibly pleasurable, like being forced into rape. Even though it was consensual, it still
felt like rape, being forcibly penetrated. Of course, it depends on luck, meaning whether there's a
man who truly loves you willing to be with you… I felt nothing, although the sounds of water from my lower body continued, and I could feel that
dildo I had just been infatuated with thrusting inside me. But sex isn't just about gentleness… Just
as I was about to shed tears, my husband came up behind me, gently stroking my hair and turning my head.
He gazed at me for what seemed like a thousand years, without saying a word… Then he began to kiss me.

I had never kissed like that before, it felt like a life-or-death separation. Do you know what it
feels like to kiss with all your might? In my husband's kiss, I felt an intense jealousy that could burn the heavens and earth, along with fear and
boundless desire… I couldn't tell which feeling was stronger, but I knew that the sum of all these feelings was love,
and nothing else could do this. Ignoring the man's actions, I hugged my husband and kissed him passionately, letting him know
I wouldn't let him leave again. A strange penis was still gently inserted into my lower body; the feeling was incredibly
new!

Suddenly, my husband pushed me away. I'd never seen him undress so quickly before, as if
the world would end if he waited any longer. His penis practically jumped out of his underwear, red and shiny, its rounded glans beckoning
and calling to me.

My desire was rekindled. I swallowed my husband's penis, sucking hard,
swirling . I wanted it in my mouth, I wanted it to feel good, I wanted to give everything to this penis I would always love.
With my husband's penis in my mouth and another penis inserted into my lower body, I knew this was what people called a threesome. But
was this really it? Because at that moment, my mind was only on my husband. Although I was starting to feel pleasure in my lower body, I thought
it was all from my husband, from that penis in my mouth.

But less than a minute later, my husband pulled back, withdrawing the penis that belonged only to me from my mouth.
My automatic reaction was to reach out and grab it, but my husband took a step back. I didn't know anything else. I only knew
that I wanted his penis, that I wanted to eat it, that I wanted it to stay in my mouth forever. I cried in desperation.
My husband immediately leaned over and kissed my face, wiping away my tears, but I knew he was deliberately keeping his lower body far away from me.
Probably afraid that person would hear! He whispered, "I can't take it anymore..."

The man, contrary to his previous gentleness, began to exert himself more forcefully, while my husband kissed my earlobe. Enveloped in his love,
the shame I felt earlier had vanished. However, his penetration was incredibly pleasurable, very pleasurable, though clearly much less intense than the
caresses .

They both left me almost simultaneously. I barely noticed him pulling out; I only realized
my husband was gone. Disappointment washed over me, like suddenly having to answer a phone call halfway through sex
. My disappointment stemmed from my husband no longer kissing my earlobe, having nothing to do with whether the man continued.
I even wanted my husband to pay him off and get rid of him so we could just stay in bed and make love
a hundred times over.

My husband gently patted me; I knew he wanted me to turn over. I obeyed; I
always listen to my husband. Then I felt him supporting my hips; I knew he wanted me to lift up so
he could enter from behind, our favorite position. I like this. I like anything my husband likes
… Right now, I really want my husband's big cock, I want him to thrust into me hard, keep thrusting until he kills
me .

I want it so badly, I want it right now. I want it so badly, my husband's cock is so hard, just like that, pressing against me, filling me completely, even my heart is filled.
But my husband didn't move, he just stopped. When my husband's cock pierced into my vagina, the feeling was completely different, like
a hot current flowing in, from deep inside my vagina straight to my head, my limbs and bones were all tingling and soft. I gasped
, this is it… the familiar hardness without even looking, the love I could feel intuitively. My husband
didn't move, I felt satisfied without him moving, if he moved I might reach orgasm immediately.

My heart cried out, "Honey, please move! It's so itchy inside, why won't you penetrate me?" The man then
knelt before my face, gently supporting my limp head, and tenderly asked, "Is it comfortable?"
I almost screamed, "Yes! Penetrate me! Please penetrate me!"

I knew the reason my husband wouldn't move was because he couldn't hold on… Then the situation changed; the masseur was watching my
husband and me make love, watching his hot, red penis penetrate my vagina. This was a different feeling altogether—
the feeling of being watched by a stranger. This feeling made me even hotter, making me want my husband to penetrate me forcefully, without mercy.

We remained still, occasionally my husband would thrust a little, and at those moments my nerves felt like they were being burned… The man simply
stroked my hair, gently touching me, doing nothing. His condom had been removed, and his penis was drooping,
not as magnificent as before. It hadn't completely shrunk; the length remained the same, but it was soft, the two testicles
hanging there fragilely and helplessly.

Many people think women like hard, bouncy penises, but they don't know that
a penis resting right after sex evokes even more tenderness. Women love vulnerable little creatures, just like I love it when my husband kisses my breasts,
feeling a maternal instinct rise within me. At that moment, I felt the same way about my drooping testicles. This
man, though strong, had such a vulnerable spot, making me want to kiss it.

I tried to extend my hips further back, and although my husband seemed to have controlled himself,
he didn't thrust as forcefully as before, just gently and slowly. The more I couldn't have it, the more my desire intensified; my heart
felt like it was being weighed down by a huge stone. He began to caress my breasts, kiss my earlobe, and murmur praises
of my chest…

My husband started moving, shouting as he thrust, "Eat his, Juanjuan, eat his." Although not as
vigorous as before, the thrusts felt millions of times more pleasurable. My husband's penis was inside me,
rocking back and forth, making me feel incredibly uncomfortable. It exploded! A rainbow of colors flashed before my eyes. It was here! I
knew it was here! My husband had thrust me to the very top, my very soul was being pulled out.

Yes, I wanted to eat his cock. Deep down, I screamed, "I want it! I want it!" He straightened
up, his cock right in front of me, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't reach it. My body
swayed during the thrusting… All I could do was grab it, but even that was difficult. I had to support myself with one hand and
hold . It hardened rapidly in my hand, so hard,
harder than all the cocks in the world combined, like a red-hot iron rod… but I couldn't reach it.

"Do you like it?" he groaned, asking me. "Do you like it?" Without hesitation, I shouted,
"I like it!" I had forgotten what shame was; I just screamed and yelled, trying to
release . If I didn't scream, I would die. My husband's cock had reached the very bottom, so deep I felt like it was going to break inside.
My husband's strength increased, one climax after another. I could no longer see what I was holding; I
wanted . I think I'd gone mad. I

couldn't take it anymore. I put the rod down, letting it dangle in front of my eyes… It was so dark, so shiny
, it was begging me to satisfy it, to make it explode, to spray me all over. I knew it; I heard that
shiny rod calling to me. With each thrust of my husband's rod against my face, it felt so good. I wanted
to eat it, to swallow it…

I cried out, "Roller, big rod!" The rod was right in front of me; my husband's rod was penetrating me. "
What?" My husband yelled, as if he hadn't heard me. "Roller! Big rod!" My husband's speed increased.
I knew he was a pervert; he would fill my vagina with lots of semen, flooding it. An orgasm overwhelmed me, and
before my eyes swayed a thick, hard penis. I cried out, "It's a big penis, such a big
penis! Fuck me, I want a big penis to fuck me..."

In daily life, or even in my mind, I think I'm a conservative woman. Actually, I guess most women
are like me, having some cute nicknames for men or their own body parts. For example, I like to call my husband
's penis "penis"... Oh! When it's soft, I call it "bird." Occasionally, outside, like
in the market, if I hear someone swearing, I immediately feel extremely uncomfortable. I think this must
be the constraint that upbringing brings to women!

My husband led me into this world of lewd talk. At first, I refused, but later I reluctantly learned. At first, I
got worse and worse, having to think about what to say while making love, to the point where I didn't even know
where to put my legs. Until one time, my husband brought me to the brink of ecstasy. In his excitement, he urged me to scream, and suddenly,
without thinking, those lewd words flowed out naturally…

It's true! When you shout out those forbidden words without restraint, all rules disappear.

But, unless my husband calls me, commands me, and I happen to be in the throes of impending climax,
normally, even during sex, I wouldn't think of these things that a good woman shouldn't say. I'm writing this now
just to record the situation… But right now, as I type, I'm truly immersed in it,
indulging myself through these words, feeling that unbridled, unrestrained pleasure. My husband pulled out at the last second, his thick, hot
semen shooting onto my back like a rocket… I was so disappointed. He knew I usually
take birth control pills, those birth control pills that give me headaches and make me nauseous, all because I loved him ejaculating inside me,
filling me with love.

I collapsed, panting, feeling my husband gently wiping my back with a tissue, his touch tender.
That man's penis—no! A thick, hard penis lay before my eyes, still maintaining its erection… Though
tired, I felt unsatisfied, a void lingering between my legs after my husband's departure. I think I've truly let go.
Relying on my husband's love, I dare to do anything, and most importantly, my husband likes me to be this wanton. He wants me to abandon
all shame and enjoy everything I can grasp at this moment.

I reached out and began to touch it, just gently caressing it, not intentionally, but this hard, thick
penis just happened to be right in front of me. I hadn't paid much attention before, but now I noticed that it was truly different from my husband's
, though different, yet equally adorable. Its back was slightly thicker, especially the inverted triangular cone-shaped glans
, which was particularly intriguing, like a sharp spear that could pierce one's heart.

I don't know where the strength came from, but I slightly propped myself up, tilted my head back, and leaned forward to kiss his glans! I didn't dare to actually suck it,
but just used my tongue to circle around his glans, gently touching it. Then I felt his glans twitch
twice on my tongue, like a tiny, independent life... It was so beautiful, the most beautiful part of a man
. I couldn't help but take it all in my mouth, feeling it throb within me, that most beautiful glans seeming to
swell even more.

My husband lay beside me, watching me with a smile. I knew he wanted to watch me eat, and
the flames of desire that had just been extinguished reignited in his eyes. So I ate even more enthusiastically, stuffing the whole thing into my mouth, pulling it out, and then
putting it in. Sometimes I held it in my hand, punishing the unruly glans with my tongue, watching it swell until it couldn't grow any larger,
anticipating its bursting open and releasing millions of seeds. My husband reached out and touched my bare shoulder, and he also let out
a panting sound, sighing and groaning.

"Do you like it?" my husband asked softly. I couldn't answer, yet I didn't want to spit it out, so I could only nod while
holding it in, silently chanting, "I love it! I love it!" His testicles were so soft; I
could feel what was inside that fleshy sac—that was what I wanted, the source of a man's allure.

Everything before me was consuming me, my heart itching, so itchy. "Do you want to fuck him? I want you to fuck
him, fuck him to death!" My husband breathed in my ear, his warm breath driving me crazy,
the madness starting from my genitals.

I wanted it, of course I wanted it, I wanted to use my own penis to fuck this incredibly thick rod to death! Fuck this
unruly rod to death. I spat out the rod, pushed him down, I couldn't wait even a second longer, that empty feeling
in my vagina needed to be filled with a rod, and then I eagerly mounted him… I first grabbed that throbbing
rod, looked at my husband, and he was smiling at me as I sat down. This time, I didn't use a condom
because my mind was completely blank except for that huge penis.

It was so full, so incredibly full, like the thickest, biggest penis in the world was about to pierce my stomach. I
screamed, wildly thrusting up and down, using every last bit of my strength. I lifted my hips,
then slammed them down, each time penetrating deep inside me, hitting my chest. I never knew sex
could feel so good. I loved it, wishing the world would stop, wishing the end of the world would come… Then
the climax surged from my lower body, knocking me down. I lay on top of him, panting, panting uncontrollably… It

was so wet; I was practically sitting on a huge puddle of sticky love juice and semen, my pubic hair
mingling with his.

His limp penis slid out from my wetness. Although I wanted to grab it back, I was already satisfied
, I couldn't take any more, any more and I would die. I trembled, the uncontrollable tide
surging inside me, I couldn't stop shaking. I dragged myself forward to kiss him, cupping his face
and searching for this stranger's soul. I found myself captivated by his penis.

The tongue that had just licked my genitals was now burrowing in my mouth like a little snake. I hugged him tightly, wanting to bury myself
completely in his body, in his broad chest, wanting to curl up in his arms and never leave.

He didn't let me go, lifting me up and laying me flat on my back. Before him, I felt as
helpless . I spread my legs wide, to my absolute limit, waiting, waiting for him to come and
fuck me with that huge penis, to fuck me to death. When he entered me, I screamed, I yelled! Oh! I thrust my ass towards him, lowering...
The sound of our bodies colliding almost filled the room. I wanted him to penetrate me, to penetrate me hard, without any mercy.

He kept thrusting into me, grabbing my legs and exposing my entire genitals. I loved it; I wanted to
give him my most precious place, to let him see it clearly. My genitals were right there, he could do whatever he wanted with them,
I just wanted him to fuck me hard. He thrust so hard, I only knew that I was constantly swaying my upper body from side to side, I wanted freedom, I
wanted that freedom I had never had before. I thought the sex had reached its limit, but it hadn't; another orgasm
came, again and again.

I screamed, "Fuck me, please!" It was the only plea I could make, the only thing I wanted.
Then he sped up, his entire penis seemed to be inside me, and I felt his rod
throbbing inside me. I knew he had ejaculated, all of it inside me. I grabbed his neck, wanting him to press down on me
, wanting his semen to melt inside me, wanting his horde to surge within me.

He leaned against the headboard, and I sat in his lap, playing with his adorable penis. My husband sat
opposite us… We were tired, everyone was tired, and it was all over. We were smiling at each other.

“Jealous?” I asked my husband, looking into his eyes, as I sat on him. “Look at him, I
really like him, I like having him inside me.”

“No!” My husband’s smile vanished, and he said seriously, “I want you to be happy, I want you to be crazy, I want you to have
everything. Otherwise, why did you marry me?”

His penis hardened again. I turned around, kissed him, and then hugged his strong neck, lifting my waist.
Half-squatting, I took his hard glans into my wet vagina, and my love juice started flowing again, flowing through my heart.
His glans throbbed inside me. I turned back to my husband and asked, “So, how about this?” My husband
smiled nodded…

I suddenly sat down, letting the entire penis penetrate me. I paused for a while, until I managed to control my emotions
. I slowly leaned back into my husband's arms and said, "There's someone else's big dick inside my pussy! It's so big,
it's so itchy inside, I want him to fuck me, let his big dick be inside my pussy for you to see, okay... Will you kiss me?
I want you to kiss me!" His dick was inside me, so deep, and I almost frowned as I said this.

"I like it when someone else fucks you, just because you like it!" My husband kissed me, and I lay in his
arms, my legs draped over the man's shoulders, watching his dick thrusting in and out of my pussy with my husband.

My husband was outside alone, and I was in the bathroom with the masseur. He was carefully washing
every inch of my skin with the showerhead. As he knelt on the floor touching my thighs, a touch of sadness rose up... It was
time to part, he was leaving. I helped him up, and I searched his body, trying to find some
evidence to remember him by. His dick was pressed against my lower abdomen, so warm and comfortable.

I knelt on the floor, sucking his penis, swallowing it all the way down my throat, the shower water
spraying over my back. The bathroom was separated by frosted glass; though not transparent, I could probably see my reflection… Perhaps
my husband knew what I was doing, perhaps not, but this was my first affair.

It was true, I really wanted to make love to him alone, in the most private setting, without anyone disturbing
us. “Just one more time, please? Just one more time!” I pleaded, looking up at him.

He lifted me up, suspending me in mid-air, his entire penis inside me. My legs
were tightly wrapped around his waist, my arms around his neck. I should have felt fear, but I didn't; I just
leaned against his broad shoulders… and then I cried. I didn't make a sound, silently enduring the pleasure, enduring
the end of an extraordinary encounter, reaching orgasm almost immediately. It was ridiculous, but I truly believed I could
make him remember me this way, this ordinary woman who had once clung to him.

As he was about to leave after taking the money, I asked for his contact information. He then took out a pen and said he wanted to write
his phone number on my thigh. So I lifted my skirt, revealing the thigh he had just touched. After he left, my husband and I
did it again. I secretly told my husband that I had arranged for my sister to pick up our son, so we could stay there as long as we wanted
. In fact, we didn't leave the hotel until the next day; I've forgotten
how many times we came that day.

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