Even the most aloof goddess can't escape loneliness. (Repost)

Even the strongest feelings between a man and a woman can't withstand the power of physical intimacy. Even the most aloof goddess can't escape loneliness. Let
me tell you a true story from a first- or second-tier coastal city. Due to the nature of my work, I can't provide any leads or clues, please forgive me. My main point is to explore the importance of sexual organs in a marriage. If you're interested, I can continue writing.
I have a brother, let's call him Z. He's the son of a high-ranking official, physically strong, and very generous. At 28, he was promoted to deputy section chief in the public security system, full of ambition. Through family matchmaking, he fell in love with an even more powerful second-generation member of the system, let's call her Q. Q was also 28 when she was promoted to section chief. Because Q is the son of a high-ranking official and has had a smooth career, she's rather cold and very conservative, rarely interacting with others. It's said that besides a few university classmates, she has few friends, yet she and Z were deeply in love and married six months later. Z and I were very close, and our families visited each other frequently after the wedding. Gradually, my wife and Q also became very close. According to Q, my wife was her only friend in the area. A year later, Z and Q had a daughter who recognized me as her godfather. By then, I had known Q for almost two years. As Z's friend, I had spoken to Q less than a hundred times because she was too aloof. At family gatherings, Z and I would talk, while she and my wife would chat. On the surface, Z and Q seemed well-matched, good-looking, and both had promising futures. Their relationship was also very good, and many people envied this family. In 2015, their second year of marriage, I suddenly heard that Z and Q were getting a divorce and had separated. Q and their daughter lived in their marital home (Z stayed in the company dormitory and went to his mother's house for laundry and meals). At the request of Q's parents, my wife and I began to mediate between them. However, despite several attempts to get them to eat together, neither side was willing to reconcile. Having no other option, my wife and I separated and worked separately to persuade each other.
After drinking one time, Z told me he was about to burst and asked me to get two college girls to relieve his pent-up desire. So I booked a standard room and called two students over, one for each of us. I'm a normal guy, I finished in twenty minutes. He asked if I wanted one of them, and she said yes. So I had the girl who was with me come over and let him have a threesome. This guy went at it for an hour and a half, ejaculating twice in a row without stopping. He went from one girl to another, making both girls cry (he used seven condoms after each one) and saying he couldn't do it anymore. Z finally stopped reluctantly. During this time, I noticed that this guy's penis was nearly 20 centimeters long, thick and curved downwards. His sexual prowess was astonishing. (Although we've been brothers for over ten years and have patronized prostitutes together before, this was the first time we'd been in the same room.) I asked Z, emboldened by alcohol, why he wanted a divorce and why he was in such a mess. Z said, "Damn it, I didn't have any sex life during my marriage!" I asked again what happened. Z said: "Q won't let me have sex, and even if we do, it's not satisfying. Q won't give me oral sex, she won't even do it with her hands, and she won't let me have oral sex either. Sexual intercourse is limited to one position: lying on my back. After a few minutes, she cries and begs for me to hurry up. We've been married for two years, and we've had sex less than fifty times. After each time, I have to masturbate myself, usually in the study, because Q won't let me ejaculate on her. Because of work, Z wants to advance his career, and it's inconvenient for him to have a mistress. So we've started eating out frequently, and I'm going crazy. I'm not sexually active, and I have high desires, so eating out often leads to problems. Maybe I should divorce
her and find someone else." I was speechless. After knowing the reason, I told my wife to talk to Q and see if she could change her habits in this area, whether she was sexually frigid, and whether there was a possibility of reconciliation.
After my wife talked to Q deeply, she learned that Q wasn't sexually frigid and often had sexual dreams. But strangely, when she had sexual desire, her genitals would automatically move, and she could orgasm by simply touching her clitoris. Sexual intercourse with Z was extremely painful because it was their first time having sex after marriage. It was on their wedding night, and Z had drunk a bit too much. She described it as going through hell; she bled a lot, and the next day her lower abdomen and stomach were in excruciating pain. It took her three days to walk normally, and she almost fainted after standing for half an hour at the wedding banquet. Every time they had sex afterward was extremely painful, so she didn't want to have sex anymore. Q suggested that if they could stop having sex, they could get back together, but nothing else was possible. In the end, they divorced. Z left with nothing, and Q took care of the child and lived in the house they had bought together.
Because Q was a department head at the municipal police station, he had a lot of work to do. They hired a nanny to take care of the child. In May 2016, Q discovered on surveillance footage that the nanny had repeatedly sneaked into his room while he was at work, doing unknown things (Q, being a policeman, knew that video surveillance was unsafe, and he didn't have one installed in his bedroom). She had also allowed outsiders into the house twice. Therefore, he dismissed her without hesitation, and sent the four-year-old child to daycare. Because I lived close to his family and was also the child's godfather, Q became close to my family after their divorce, while Z voluntarily transferred to a county to become a traffic police captain.
In June, Q's mother was hospitalized. Q, being an only child, stayed by her side at the hospital for twelve consecutive days, but ultimately passed away. During this time, my family took care of my goddaughter and took her to and from kindergarten. After Q's mother's funeral, Q returned home and suddenly developed a fever and vomiting. She didn't call my wife until 2 a.m. We rushed to her house and took her to the hospital emergency room. She received an IV drip until 6 a.m. My wife rushed to cook for my son and goddaughter and take them to school. I stayed behind to continue caring for Q until her IV drip finished around 7 a.m., when I took her home. Q has a slight obsession with cleanliness. After returning home, despite still feeling dizzy and lightheaded, she insisted on taking a shower before lying down in her own bed because she felt the hospital beds were dirty and smelly. I had no choice but to wait, fearing something might happen to her, and told her I would just wait and cook her some porridge while my wife took care of the children before I left. She agreed. (She wanted me to leave as soon as we got home. We're quite familiar with each other, but we've never been alone together before.) Q is an 80 out of 100 in looks, with very fair skin and a height of 173 cm. Her figure is absolutely top-notch; even after having a child, she still looks like a young girl. While Q was showering, I called my friend Z to tell him about it. Damn it, Z is currently dating a new girl, and he was still sleeping with her at this hour. Z just replied that we're divorced, he can't control her, and asked me to take care of our daughter before hanging up. I was completely ignored. After Q finished showering, I took her to her room to sleep, and then waited in the living room until my wife came at nine o'clock before going home to sleep. My wife slept with Q. Around four o'clock in the afternoon, my wife called again, telling me to hurry to Q's house. Apparently, Q had a fever again, was delirious, and somewhat confused. I rushed over and called a doctor friend who suggested trying to reduce the fever with physical methods first, then taking her to the hospital, and if that didn't work, calling 120. I went to Q's house and used ice packs to bring down her fever, and applied alcohol to her elbows to cool her down. It was the first time I touched Q's skin, and it felt wonderful. With my wife there, I actually got so hard I almost masturbated. After the fever subsided a bit, we went to the hospital again. They said it might be due to overexertion, excessive grief, and taking a shower after the IV drip, which caused her to catch a cold. They wanted Q to be hospitalized for observation, but she absolutely refused. In the end, we just took her home for the IV drip. My wife hadn't slept all day and had to cook for the kids and bathe them, so she went back first, leaving me to look after Q. There was a lot of medicine, two large bottles and two small bottles, so the IV drip might last until 11 or 12 at night. Because the dressing needed to be changed, I stayed in Q's room watching over her, dozing off at the same time. Around 8 or 9 o'clock, Q needed to go to the toilet, so I carried the IV drip to the toilet for her, and then carried it out after she finished. Listening to her sounds in the toilet, I was so hard I was panicking, but I really didn't have the guts to do anything. She seemed embarrassed. After using the restroom, Q seemed a bit better, no longer sleeping soundly like before, and started talking to me while half-lying down. "I'm so sorry to have troubled your family these past few days," she said. I replied that it was nothing, it was my duty, we're family. Then I joked that I hadn't been this attentive even when my wife was sick, and Q was embarrassed to say thank you properly. Then I asked if there was any possibility of getting back together with Z. She replied that it was impossible, as everyone in the system knew that Z was already living with a woman from his workplace. Then I asked, "What about you? Haven't you found someone else?" She replied, "No, I'm just happy to get through this with my daughter. What's so great about men?" I said that women can't live without men, and that if she had a man these past few days, she wouldn't have gotten sick from exhaustion. Besides, do you really have no other needs? (This was a teasing remark made by my lustful mind.) As a result, Q's mood suddenly dropped when she thought about her mother's passing, and tears fell. I realized this was bad and quickly steered the conversation in a different direction. I said that Z said they broke up because she was frigid. It seems she really doesn't need a man. Q immediately got angry, saying, "How dare Z go around spreading rumors? I'm not frigid, I've seen a doctor, it's not true. Besides, I often have sexual fantasies and orgasms. Only those incompetent people go around spreading rumors." I then asked, "Oh, you really have sexual fantasies? Who are they?" To my surprise, Q blushed, turned around, and said, "It's all your wife's fault. A while ago, when she was advising me, she said that you and your husband have all sorts of sexual techniques, how to do them, how pleasurable and comfortable they are. That's when I started having sexual fantasies." I was shocked and said, "It's not me, is it?" Q pulled the blanket over her head and didn't say anything. I was also incredibly excited and said, "You fantasize about me doing things?" Q didn't answer, and lay down, one hand still attached to the IV drip, the rest tucked under the blanket. Seeing that there was a chance, I reached under the blanket to try... I grabbed her other hand, but instead touched her chest first. She was wearing a bra, two sizes larger than my wife's. Seeing that everything was alright, I climbed onto the bed and kissed her directly on the lips. Q pushed me away, saying, "It's a cold, it's contagious." Ah, that's what she meant. I immediately understood, and smoothly lifted her nightgown, unhooked her bra, and started kissing her breasts. They were large and white, still perky despite having given birth, with slightly large but still bright red nipples. I reached down to her lower body; there wasn't much hair, it was very smooth, and it was an inverted triangle shape. She trembled a little when I touched her vulva. I saw that she had covered her face with a pillow and didn't say anything. I reached down and found that she was already very wet. Without hesitation, I didn't do anything else to tease her. I first stripped myself naked, then carefully positioned her legs into an M shape, gently rubbed the entrance a few times, and then slid in. Because I knew Q's sexual habits, I didn't dare to do anything else. Besides, a woman's vagina is the closest place to her heart. I moved very gently, afraid of upsetting her, and it worked well. After four or five minutes, I felt an extreme tightening in her vagina. Then I saw Q biting the pillow with her mouth, and I felt my penis being clamped inside her vagina, then squeezed forcefully. I ejaculated directly after about ten seconds. That feeling was more comfortable than I had ever experienced. Then she continued to squeeze for about 90 seconds before letting go. (At this point, I realized why Z couldn't have sex with Q. Z's penis was unusually large, and Q's vagina was unusually small. My penis is about 12 centimeters long, and after it was fully inside, I could clearly feel it blocking the cervix. Compared to many women, it's shallow. Z was drunk on his wedding night, and his long penis was thrusting wildly. No wonder he was traumatized.) Although this time it only lasted five or six minutes, I was still unsatisfied, but I didn't dare to have any more. Q, on the other hand, was very satisfied and had a great time. He even got up and kissed me, saying, "I only know what sex is now!" After I took care of both of our bodies, I moved Q to the guest room, opened the door to ventilate Q's room, changed the bedding, and only moved Q back to his bedroom around midnight when my wife was coming. From that moment on, I officially established a strange relationship with Q. Afterwards, we had several affairs. I taught her to accept mutual oral sex, flirting, and we started to try different positions. Finally, I summarized the best position for women like Q with vaginas: when close to orgasm, the woman sits on top of the man, both of them sit up and kiss each other, without much movement of the genitals, just small frictions, and both of them will reach orgasm under the woman's contractions.
Some time later, at her father's request, Q went on a blind date. The man was a big businessman, widowed, and their relationship progressed quickly. After about three months of dating, Q told me that they wanted to get married, but she wanted to have sex with him before the wedding to avoid a repeat of what happened last time. I said that was right, if she were to get divorced again, she would be finished. As expected, when Q went to the man's house that day, he made a move. Q half-heartedly agreed. His penis was normal, but rather soft, and he ejaculated during Q's orgasm, resulting in a failed sexual encounter. He said he was too nervous, and they tried again two hours later, but the result was the same. Ultimately, they didn't get married and broke up amicably. Later, Q met a high-ranking official in the municipal government. After dating for a few months, they slept together again, but the result was even worse. Perhaps due to his tightness, he ejaculated prematurely. He was unconvinced and lasted longer the second time, but Q noticed that he was still erect afterward. Because of the prolonged intercourse, she felt pain in her genital area, so she helped him with her hand for twenty minutes without him ejaculating. She then asked him if he was taking drugs. The man was stunned. Q said that the thought of a man three years younger than her using Viagra to please her disgusted her, so nothing came of it. After Q's penis became normal, her sexual encounters with him were very disappointing. She concluded that our sizes were compatible, and our erections were harmonious, so she decided not to date anymore. This made me both happy and distressed.
Let me clarify, I'm discussing size issues here. I can talk more about Q, but I won't post any pictures, nor have I taken any. As I've mentioned before, Q is very traditional, and because of her status, she wouldn't allow photos to be taken at this time. You can probably sense it from her background and family's position; I'm quite intimidated by her, and there's even a hint of her trying to curry favor. So please don't make things difficult for me, okay? I'm just a small businessman. I admit, I had some ulterior motives when I first started my relationships with Z and Q. Now, I'll continue writing. Writing by hand is slow!
The first time I had sex with Q was a bit of a surprise for both of us. I was really flustered when my wife came to take over, because she slept with Q that night, and I was afraid something might have been discovered, or that Q would tell my wife. But everything went smoothly; maybe it was because my wife's chicken soup had a strong flavor. In the end, everything was fine. The next day at noon, Q managed to go back to her father's house to comfort him. Her father knew she was sick, but with so many funeral arrangements in the area, he was very worried about not being able to visit his daughter. I also went to help with the cleanup. When I saw Q, I asked how she was feeling. She replied that she was better, just a little weak, and asked me to take her home later because she was a bit unwell and couldn't drive easily. My wife had brought her home at noon, and I agreed. Then I went to help her family clear out some things. Around 9 pm, Q's father came to ask me to take Q home and reminded me to bring my goddaughter to the cemetery the next day. I took Q home. We didn't talk much on the way. When we were almost home, I asked, "Were you okay yesterday?" She replied, "I was fine. Don't think about those things." I said, "I'm afraid you'll tell my wife." She answered, "What would I tell her? What's wrong with you? Don't go upstairs later. I called your wife and told her not to come either. She's exhausted these days and needs a good rest." Then I left it at that. When I got home and saw my wife, I immediately signaled that it was time to do my "homework." Since yesterday with Q, I felt unsatisfied, a feeling of pent-up desire mixed with a strong sense of anticipation. My intercourse with my wife was exhilarating, but I kept reliving the feeling of being tightened and moved with Q—cautious yet enjoyable, a bit like serving a queen. My wife doesn't have this function, but I'd been hoping it would happen. This time, we lasted almost forty minutes before finishing. My wife was very satisfied, but I didn't feel very good. (My husband and I usually finish in about twenty minutes.) The moment it was over, I felt utterly defeated; this encounter with Q had become addictive.
After it ended, Q went back to work, working during the day and taking care of our daughter at night. My wife and I brought her and her daughter soup a few times, but I didn't have a chance to talk to them alone. Q, as always, had endless things to say to my wife, while I felt lonely and isolated. But every time I saw Q, I felt an uncontrollable fire, discomfort, and a strange sense of anticipation. About twenty days later, I needed to go to Hong Kong. When I saw my Hong Kong and Macau travel permit, a thought struck me. I deliberately poured tea on it, ruining the stamp. Then I went to the immigration office to exchange it, only to be told that even expedited processing would take fifteen working days. I already knew this, so I went to the Municipal Public Security Bureau to find Q and told her I needed to go to Hong Kong the day after tomorrow and it was urgent (actually, I could have delayed it for a few days, but I insisted on leaving the day after tomorrow). Q called the head of the management section, who also said it might be too late. Q then told me to bring the relevant materials and personally took me to the management section. Registration, data entry, certificate production, and stamping were all done in one go, and the certificate was ready by the end of the day. I called my wife to pick up my goddaughter and told her I was asking Q for help with something. After getting the certificate, on the way back, I asked Q how things were going. She replied, "How are you doing?" Seeing that she wasn't angry anymore, I boldly asked, "Have you been fantasizing about it again?" Q blushed immediately and asked again, "Are you really having problems? You don't even have those kinds of thoughts?" Q replied, "Get lost, don't mess with me, or you'll regret it." I said, "You kissed me that day, and said you knew what 'that' meant, have you forgotten? You may have forgotten, but I think about it every day." "You have your wife, do you think you're lacking? Don't talk nonsense." I said, "It's different, really. That time I was too nervous, and you weren't in a good state either. I really want to be with you calmly, without any pressure!" Q turned her head to look at the road, not answering, and remained silent for five or six minutes. I then asked, "Go to work or drive home?" After a few more minutes, Q firmly said, "Take me home first." I breathed a sigh of relief and reached out to grab her hand. Q didn't move, letting me hold it until we reached a red light intersection before letting go. Then we went to her house. As soon as we entered, I closed the door and hugged Q and kissed her. At first, she resisted, but then she stopped moving and let me kiss her. I then realized that Q could only use her lips to kiss; her tongue didn't respond at all. She didn't move even when I stirred her tongue around. When I helped her to the room, she pushed me away and said, "I haven't showered. Go take a shower. You stink." I almost fainted. Then I said gently, "In our situation, taking a shower will ruin everything. Listen to me, I know more about this than you do! Okay? Don't talk. I'll show you what real lovemaking is. Now close your eyes and shut up. If I don't do it right, you don't have to talk to me anymore, okay?" (We speak a dialect, so it's not written in such a coherent way, but that's the gist of it.) After hearing this, Q actually grabbed a pillow and covered her head with it. I unbuttoned her standard short shirt and trousers (I noticed that the women in her workplace all wore skirts, but Q wore trousers. I didn't understand why and didn't ask). I kissed her breasts and lower abdomen, and even licked her navel and C-section scar with my tongue. Slowly moving to the edge of her shorts, I pulled them down, intending to kiss her lower body. Q reached out and covered herself, saying, "No, don't! It's filthy." I pulled her hand away and whispered, "Listen to me, don't move, don't make a sound, just let me do as I please." Q then put her hand back to the pillow. I gently stroked her vulva and began licking her genitals. Q's genitals were very clean and tidy, with no protruding labia minora. The vulva resembled a clam; you had to gently pull back the labia majora to see the clitoris. It was very beautiful, with a youthful red hue, and no anal hair, only a small amount of fine, straight, inverted triangular pubic hair. As I licked her, I could feel her calves trembling occasionally. I slowly inserted my middle finger into her vagina. I can tell you, even my middle finger felt a tightening sensation at this point. Slowly inserting it all the way in, the tip of my middle finger touched the cervix, which is like an anus. You can imagine that Q's vagina was only ten to twelve centimeters long. I gently traced circles along the cervix, lightly licking it with my tongue. There was a slightly pungent smell of urine, but combined with the scent of vaginal secretions, it was even more stimulating. After about four or five minutes, I felt Q's body begin to tense up. I noticed her cervix was opening and there was strong peristalsis, and her vagina was also starting to tighten. I quickly got up and slowly inserted my penis. Tight, lubricated, warm—I can't even describe it. Don't laugh, everyone. The thrusting... After two minutes, I felt my entire glans being sucked in. I couldn't bear to move. I lifted one leg, shifting to a cross position, and struggled to continue thrusting. Q tensed up, yanked off the pillow, stretched her neck out, and rolled her eyes back. A hand reached out to grab my shoulder, but she didn't manage it properly, and a fingernail scratched my left shoulder. I didn't even feel the pain; instead, I ejaculated profusely. I wonder how many people have experienced that feeling of being sucked in and ejaculating. After ejaculating, I didn't pull out but remained inside Q, continuing to enjoy the tightness. About a minute later, I felt Q's vagina slowly relax and her cervix contract. Now I was face to face with Q, but she wouldn't let me kiss her anymore, not even on the face. She covered my mouth with her hand. I insisted, and she covered my mouth with one hand and threatened to slap me with the other, saying, "Your mouth is filthy. If you kiss me again, I'll hit you." I joked, "I'm still inside you, and you're already disgusted with me? What kind of thinking is that?" "Get out of here if you keep talking nonsense!" So I could only lie there quietly, moving slightly, slowly relaxing as Q. Afterwards, we each took a shower (I wanted to shower with Q, but Q didn't). While showering, I noticed a scratch on my shoulder. I showed it to Q; it was about six or seven centimeters long. Q was speechless. I could only say I'd figure it out myself. This time, Q was extremely satisfied; the way she looked at me was different. After showering, I told Q we were going to get the car from work, and she could go home for dinner and pick up our daughter. I had something to do and wouldn't be home for dinner. I told her to tell my wife I'd take a call after getting the license. Later, I met up with some buddies for drinks, got myself drunk, and had them take me home. The next day, my wife asked me what happened to the scratch on my shoulder. I said I didn't know; maybe it was from the rough handling when they took me home. The third part—I won't describe the sexual act anymore, lest people call it a 90s porn book. The previous parts were just setup; this time, I'll get straight to the present.
I had sex with Q twice, and we both felt great. Q truly understood what it meant to be a woman. Because Q's father was quite depressed after his wife's death, Q and her daughter moved back home. Since her house was close to mine, she gave me a key. I would occasionally go over to look after her plants. I would go once a week, and each time I went to Q's house, I felt a strange excitement. I would sneak into her room to smell her pillow and blankets, and even open her wardrobe to peek at her underwear. Of course, I would always return to normal. This went on for about a month. One weekend, Q and her goddaughter came over for dinner. During our conversation, they talked about how Q's father wanted her to remarry as soon as possible. Q was already 33, and her father would be retiring in the next year or two. Before retiring, he hoped Q could become a full-fledged department head, and marital relationships had a certain weight in the evaluation of officials. She asked my wife about this in front of me, and gave me a knowing look. That evening, after Q went home, my wife, being very gossipy, asked me: "Have you noticed that Q has been acting differently lately? She used to never talk to me about things in official circles, but this time she talked about it in front of you, even about remarriage. She doesn't seem to mind you at all anymore. She doesn't seem like the Q I used to know." I replied, "Maybe it's because she feels closer to us as a family after losing her mother."
The next afternoon, I found an excuse to go to Q's office to do some business with her. We chatted for an hour. Q was very resistant to the men her father had introduced her to. I told her, "Why don't you go and see them? Let it be. If you feel a connection, you might as well get to know them." Q remained silent. Then I suggested we have dinner together. Q said she didn't want to eat out. I said, "That's easy. I'll pack some and bring it to your place." After getting her agreement, I left. I drove to a hotel I often host, ordered two dishes that Q liked, and went to another restaurant, ordered two dishes and two bottles of red wine. Then I took a taxi to Q's house. Around 7 p.m., Q and I ate and chatted at home, finishing the two bottles of wine I had brought. We spent another half hour flirting, and, emboldened by the alcohol, I suggested we take a bath together. Q disagreed, but when she went into the room to shower, I didn't hear her lock the door. I waited five minutes before going in. I stripped naked in the room and rushed into the bathroom. Q tried to push me out, but after a few kisses, I gave in. (I won't describe these details.) After the bath, I carried her to bed, and for the first time, I had a proper look at this usually icy goddess. When I touched her genitals, I gave her a comprehensive evaluation, because I also wanted to know why this part of her body made me so intoxicated and unforgettable. In summary, Q's genitals are positioned more forward than those of most women. That is, her vagina isn't in the exact center of her body, but rather three or four centimeters forward. Her vagina is also very short, and its direction isn't as vertical as most women's. It has a relatively large cavity inside; it's slightly angled upwards and forwards, with more folds than other women, and is generally shorter and narrower. It's extremely sensitive. When I used my fingers to stimulate her G-spot, even a slight pressure with bent fingers caused significant pain, meaning it's not suitable for rapid, forceful thrusting. I licked and kissed her entire body, and then it was another very satisfying experience for both of us. It was during her orgasm that I also ejaculated due to the strong suction. I was in ecstasy. To be honest, because I run a business, I have other sexual partners besides my wife, not to mention prostitutes. I often have sex with them when I'm socializing, so you could say I've been with quite a few women. But apart from Q, in the past ten years or so, I haven't been able to reach this level of climax. It's the same person, and it's the same every time. While chatting with Q, I casually mentioned that my wife had told me Q had been acting strangely lately. Q was silent for a moment, then said she felt very sorry for my wife and daughter. Then she got up and told me to leave, saying this was the last time, and she wanted to remarry. She told me not to come looking for her again. Damn it, I slapped myself twice as I left.
Not long after this, Q started contacting the businessman I mentioned earlier. This man has a large and wide-ranging business, and he's 42 years old. He's quite well-known locally. His wife died two years ago when he accidentally stepped on the gas pedal. Q arranged for him to have dinner with my family twice, and I was invited to his villa for a barbecue. He seems like a nice guy, and quite wealthy. Q's relationship with me became somewhat formal again, just like before. I thought I would never have the chance to be intimate with Q again. I was very sad. In early December, it was my goddaughter's birthday, which happened to be a Sunday. We had arranged for our family to go to Q's father's house for dinner to celebrate. We arrived at 3 pm. The dress my wife bought for my goddaughter was a little short, so we took our son and goddaughter to the store to exchange it. Q's father happened to have some business to attend to and went out with his secretary, leaving only the cook and housekeeper busy in the kitchen. I was bored and watching TV and drinking tea in the living room when Q offered to make some. I asked how the meeting went. Q suggested we go to the small garden outside to chat. So I went with Q to the small garden by the gate. Q said that the meeting with the businessman went well, and there was mutual acceptance. They had gone out alone a few times, but the last two times he had tried to sleep with her, but she had refused. He didn't dare to force himself on her. My heart ached, but I still encouraged Q. Since they were already talking about marriage, and both were divorced, they might as well give it a try to avoid a repeat of what Z went through, which would be truly embarrassing. If she couldn't make up her mind, she could have a drink; it would help her relax. Q remained silent. Then she smiled and changed the subject, chatted for a few minutes, and then went back to her cold demeanor. I knew Q's birthday was December 26th, the day after Christmas. Q and that businessman went to Shanghai on the 24th; I heard the businessman was going to give Q a romantic birthday celebration there. I felt my happiness was gone forever.
Q returned on the evening of the 27th and came straight to my house for dinner (my goddaughter was at my house). During dinner, Q told my wife that she had broken up with the businessman and would remain friends. After dinner, my wife asked Q why. Q said it wasn't right. When pressed further, Q told my wife about her three-day trip with the businessman. He was impotent and couldn't penetrate her several times. He managed to get in, but was pushed out again. He said it might be due to nervousness and drinking. They tried again the next day, but it still didn't work, and he gave another set of excuses. On the third morning, he even prepared for half a day, and Q, wanting to try one more time, agreed. But it still didn't work. Every time Q was aroused, he couldn't stay calm and was pushed out, unable to penetrate again. The key issue was that after several days of failure, he probably got impatient. One day, after being pushed out, he demanded that Q give him oral sex. Q had never given oral sex to a man before and refused. He became enraged and tried to force himself on her. When Q refused, he pushed her onto the bed, sat on her, and tried to penetrate her while masturbating. Q struggled and twisted, and he eventually sprayed on her face. Q is proud and has a cleanliness obsession, so she grabbed the phone from the bedside table and hit herself on the head. She angrily got up, went to the bathroom, and demanded that he leave. Even kneeling and begging for forgiveness from the man didn't work. Afterwards, Q went straight to the airport, took an afternoon flight home, and left the man in Shanghai. The two women talked until midnight before Q finally returned. His wife told him she supported him, saying, "You got divorced because of sex, don't fall into that trap again." Naturally, his wife told me all this that evening, jokingly saying Q was really strange, always running into people like this. We analyzed that this successful man must be a seasoned pro. How could he be so hasty and so foolish? If he had slowed down the pace of sex with Q and relaxed, there wouldn't have been this problem. The strangest thing is that he forced himself on her at the end, even ejaculating on her face. He didn't even understand that Q was a germaphobe, yet he wanted to woo a high-class goddess. And to make matters worse, this goddess was a mid-level official. It caused a complete falling out, and they couldn't even be friends anymore. I suspect this man felt Q was relatively naive and wanted to marry her early to gain the support of her family's power. He wanted to make things happen quickly, which is why he acted so impulsively. Most importantly, this successful person had never experienced a top-tier vagina like Q's. He probably already knew he was too soft, and his inability to penetrate made him even more anxious, creating a vicious cycle. In summary, it was still a matter of size and shape mismatch.
Time flies, and it was July 2017. During this time, I met Q a few times, always in normal settings, nothing particularly interesting. I knew that in the past six months, Q had gone on several blind dates, including introductions and with men she had previously admired. Seeing her busy with marriage, I could only observe silently. Students were on holiday, and my wife organized a small group trip to Singapore, Malaysia, Thailand, and Hong Kong and Macau for ten days. She asked Q, but Q couldn't go, though her goddaughter could, so she took the two kids. I didn't go either, because traveling with a bunch of women and kids isn't exactly enjoyable. The night after my wife and her friends left, around midnight, I was having fun with some old friends when I suddenly received a call from Q. This was the first time Q had called me first, and I was surprised. I asked, "Boss, why are you calling me? Is something wrong?" Q sounded a little downcast and replied, "Just tell me to come over, get some dishes, I have some wine." After that, I quickly said goodbye to my friends, ran to a street food stall to get some dishes, and headed straight to Q's house. When I got downstairs, I found the lights were off. I quickly called Q and found out she was at her father's place. Completely baffled, I reluctantly took a taxi there. Q opened the door, and when I went inside, I realized she was home alone. Her father had gone out of town for some conference, and the nanny had been given a few days off. In the huge house, only Q was there, wearing a nightgown, sitting in the living room watching TV, a bottle of red wine open and being drunk straight. I asked Q what was wrong. She said she had a nightmare and couldn't fall back asleep, so she wanted a drink and invited me over for a glass. I didn't say anything, went to the kitchen to plate the food, and started drinking with Q. Q was clearly preoccupied, drinking quite heavily and not talking to me. It wasn't until we were on our third bottle that I asked, "What's wrong? Something's not right with you. You called me over, but you didn't say anything and just kept chugging. What does that mean?" (I won't go into the details of the conversation). Apparently, Q had been dating several men recently, hoping to get married as soon as possible, but she wasn't satisfied with any of them. This time, she was more satisfied with one man, the secretary of a city leader. He was good-looking, from a good family, and had a promising future. They had been dating for a few months, and recently they had slept together. Ever since that first time, he had been acting like a madman, thinking about her almost every day. Whenever they're alone together, she craves sex, two or three times a night. These past few days, she's been rushing to his house as soon as she gets off work. But each time, he finishes quickly, and he always ends just as Q starts to feel aroused. Q mentioned this to him a few days ago, and tonight, around 7 PM, he came again. Since her goddaughter wasn't home, he only sat for a few minutes before insisting on more. Q gave in, and this time, he was unusually vigorous, going at it for over 30 minutes. Q was already in pain, but he was still erect and showed no signs of wanting to ejaculate. Q isn't stupid; she forcefully stopped the sex and confronted him, asking, "Did you take drugs?" He replied that it was because he loved her so much and wanted to satisfy her… Q was furious, saying, "The thought of a man three years younger than me needing drugs to satisfy me…!" It was disgusting, I felt like a failure. I couldn't stand it! So, Q kicked the man out, and seeing the messy bed made her feel nauseous. She went back to her dad's house. Later, she called the man and told him that their relationship was over from that moment on. Don't bother him anymore. Actually, after sleeping with this secretary a few times, Q had already regretted it and wanted to end it. Because both of them had status, and the connection was made by a leader, Q, who is usually decisive, wasn't so resolute this time. She only subtly mentioned wanting to end it twice, but the man was like a man possessed, clinging on relentlessly. Finally, it all came to a head tonight.
I comforted Q, "If it doesn't work out, then let it go. Don't wrong yourself. Let things take their course." Q was a little drunk and said fiercely, "Forget it, I won't look for anyone else, I won't get married. I really don't believe that I can't mention divorce. It wasn't my fault, why can't I mention it?" "I comforted her again, finally got Q into his bed, tidied up the table a bit, and then went home. It was almost five o'clock when I got home. Honestly, I can understand that guy. If I were single, and faced with Q's background and the feeling of making love with her, I wouldn't be able to let go either, and I would pursue her relentlessly. Thinking about it now is unbearable; I really want to do it with Q again, but that's absolutely impossible today. I slept until the afternoon, and after waking up, I called Q to ask if she was okay. After getting a reply that she was fine, I asked if she wanted to have dinner together that night. Q said no, she wanted some peace and quiet and needed to tidy up the house. I said, 'I know you're in a bad mood, is there anything I can do to help?' Q paused for a moment before saying, 'I want to go out and clear my head this weekend. Are you free? Want to go for a walk with me?'" Overjoyed, I immediately agreed and booked a very famous national 5A scenic area, a beautiful mountainous region with fresh air and uniquely shaped mountains. It was over 400 kilometers from my current city, and I booked a hotel for two rooms. On Friday, after Q finished get off work, I picked her up from her house, and the trip began. I drove the whole way; this woman didn't even offer to drive for me for a while. During the trip, Q talked a lot about how the secretary had tried every means to make his advances these past two days, but had been rejected each time (Q is very determined once she makes up her mind). Even the leader who arranged the meeting called Q's father to inquire about the situation. Q was very angry and gave the secretary one last call, saying, "Stop bothering me. Do you want me to tell the leader that you took drugs to sleep with me? Go and settle these things yourself, or you'll know the consequences." "The man finally backed out. Q told her dad, 'That man is very ambitious and has ulterior motives in his relationship with me. Please stop pressuring me on this. I've been very disrespectful lately, doing many things I shouldn't have, and this whole thing is driving me crazy. As for the promotion, if it works out, great; if not, forget it. I can manage on my own with my daughter.'
Then Q said, 'I've decided to stop looking and stop worrying about the promotion. I'm done.' I replied, 'Yes, let things take their course. Don't rush things and make things worse.' We didn't drive fast and didn't arrive at the hotel until 2 a.m. We went back to our rooms to sleep, hoping Q would call me over, but I was disappointed. On Saturday, we didn't start hiking in the mountains until after 10 a.m. We didn't hire a guide and just walked on our own. The atmosphere emboldened me, and I said to Q, 'In this unfamiliar place, do we really need to be so awkward? We're practically a couple on a trip now, can we be a little more affectionate? Come on, hold my hand.' Q didn't react, so I put my arm around her waist. She didn't refuse, and we started exploring." This mountain is prone to rain. During our visit, we encountered a downpour and took shelter in a small pavilion by a stream. The serene mountain air, with only us, aroused my lust. I pulled Q over, sat her on my lap, and kissed her. She didn't resist; I realized Q could kiss. Gradually, I began touching Q's breasts and other sensitive areas. Q was aroused, but resolutely refused to let me take off her jeans, so we had to squeeze through the gap. I took Q's hand to touch my penis, and Q improved; she was willing to touch me, but even through my pants, she absolutely refused to let me put it inside. We had a long, passionate encounter. (I dared not ask Q to have sex with me in the open; I didn't have the courage or the possibility.) After the rain stopped, we continued exploring, even splashing ourselves in the stream. I was very happy; it was rare to see Q smile so brightly. For dinner, we ate the local specialty: stream fish, free-range chicken, and mountain bamboo shoots. We didn't return to the hotel until after 8 pm. I asked Q, "Can I go to your room?" Q agreed, grabbed her change of clothes, and rushed into Q's room, wanting to shower with her. Although reluctant, fueled by the afternoon's passion, she eventually succeeded. In the bathroom, there was all sorts of caressing. I asked Q to give me oral sex, which she initially refused. But I explained that oral sex is a perfectly normal sexual act, something almost all men and women do, giving examples: "When I give you oral sex, you feel it, right? And vice versa. Look, you cleaned this place for me, so where's the dirt?" Q reluctantly agreed and tried. I taught her how, and after a few tries, she stopped. I had the privilege of being Q's first man to use her mouth. Afterwards, I had Q lie face down on the sink, intending to penetrate her from behind. However, I couldn't succeed because Q's vagina was in the anterior position; at this angle, I could only penetrate a small portion. To fully penetrate, Q would need to bend forward at a 45-degree angle, which would be uncomfortable and painful for her. So I abandoned this position. After drying off, I got into bed with Q. We made love, and this time I discovered a position that worked best with us. I started by positioning Q's legs in an M-shape, and when I felt she was close to orgasm, I helped her sit up, facing me. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and I placed my hands on her buttocks, gently pushing and pulling, rubbing the base of my penis against her clitoris with her pubic hair. My penis was inside her vagina, enjoying the tightness and sucking. We even kissed occasionally. Q was so excited she rolled her eyes back, and I felt like I was about to ejaculate repeatedly. I heard Q let out a scream for the first time. A long sigh followed. Afterwards, Q held me and went straight to sleep. Surprisingly, this time, she didn't get up to clean up, despite being a clean freak. (Since getting married, I've only had unprotected sex with three women: my wife, my first love, and Q. I have a bit of a fetish; I feel that using a condom with them is no different from having sex with mistresses, prostitutes, or brothels. So, with the women I love, I generally don't use condoms even if they're available, and with others, I never use them without one.) In a daze, not really thinking about anything, on Sunday morning, after getting ready, I continued sightseeing. Around noon, I wanted to do it again, but Q said she couldn't, her body couldn't take it. So we didn't.
We started our return journey around 4 PM. On the way, Q said to me, "I don't want to look for anyone anymore. How about I just contact you when I need something? Actually, I don't need it that much, only once or twice a month." I asked when, and she said one or two days after her period ended, and around mid-month. I asked again, "Your period just ended?" Q replied, "No, it's still about ten days." I was shocked. This was a classic case of ovulation-related sexual urges on Q's part. Then I asked, "Do you have an IUD?" Q said no, she got one after giving birth, but the rejection was terrible, and she had to remove it due to continuous bleeding. I immediately turned off the highway, found a pharmacy, and bought a box of emergency contraceptive pills. Later, I asked if she had ever had an unplanned pregnancy. Q rolled her eyes at me and said that even before her divorce from Z, she always used condoms after giving birth. "You're so irresponsible." I was just thinking how lucky I was that the first two times were fine when Q said she took the pills herself. During this time, Q also told me, "Let's just be friends, something beyond a relationship. I won't hurt your family, and you shouldn't overthink it. We'll maintain this relationship, but if you're willing to have this relationship with me, there are a few things you must abide by: First, you mustn't think about divorce; second, you can't contact her unnecessarily; and third, you're not allowed to cheat on me. I've discovered you frequently book hotel rooms. If I find out you're cheating again, I won't forgive you." I said, "Where am I cheating? I only book hotel rooms for business trips or for clients." Q said seriously, "I understand our business. I know how strict the hotel room registration system is. Since 2015, you've booked over 80 hotel rooms, totaling over 100 days, with over 50 of them in the local area and over 30 in hourly rooms. You know what that means." Damn, this woman investigated me. One dragon's tail is better than a whole basket of earthworms. Of course, I agreed to Q's request. She's even more controlling than my wife at home. When I'm out socializing, going to karaoke, my wife even supports me hiring one or two girls to drink for me. As for how to face my wife, Q said that as a veteran police officer, there wouldn't be any problem with a full-time housewife, especially since she didn't want to climb the social ladder. She considered me only a means to treat her illness. As long as I didn't give myself away, everything would be as usual. After returning home, Q went to stay with her father. I guess her father had returned; I didn't dare go with him and went home. This trip confirmed my relationship with Q.
Q and I didn't contact each other by phone. Q applied for WeChat (you might not believe it, but before this, Q didn't have WeChat, didn't play games, only read the news. A phone is just a phone; even the best one is only used for calls, messages, checking the calendar, and reading the news. Haha). I saved Q's contact name on WeChat as "Old Wang from the Government Office."
After my wife returned home, everything returned to normal. Q still stayed with her father, and her goddaughter was picked up from school by a nanny. Q would supervise her studies after work. Occasionally, she would bring her daughter over for visits and meals. Q's complexion improved significantly; she became more cheerful at my house and started talking to me, no longer as stiff as before. Gradually, my wife got used to this situation. Because of the nature of her job, she often works overtime, so our rendezvous times are very flexible. Once a time is agreed upon, I go to her house alone. These days, neighbors don't care much about who lives next door, and wives don't usually come here unnecessarily, even though it's only a street away, just a few dozen meters. We each come and go as we please, without any worries. However, I always park my car at some entertainment venue, and only drive it after I'm done with Q. Here are a few things to remind everyone: if you're cheating and don't want your family to find out, please pay attention to these points: 1. Don't sleep outside and then come home. Women can tell if a man has just woken up, no matter how well you pretend. 2. Don't shower at her house. A woman's shower gel, shampoo, and overly clean body will tell your wife within three seconds of you getting close—your husband is cheating. How to deal with a woman's scent sticking to you when you're intimate? Simple, pour some alcohol on your hands and rub it all over your body, especially your face and hands. Even simpler, smoke a couple of cigarettes in your car. After ventilating the house by opening the windows, I made sure there wasn't a trace of lingering odor when I got home. If anyone did smell it, I could use a hostess from a karaoke bar as an excuse. That way, no woman would bother to notice my smell when I got home, and I could shower immediately. Women are very sensitive, so this is something to consider. Everything went
very smoothly until September 2018. Q's father was retiring, and Q, through his efforts, was promoted to a full-fledged department head. She had two choices: leave the police force and transfer to an administrative unit in the municipal government, or transfer out of the city to the provincial department. Q chose the provincial department. She said she liked the police profession and wanted to be away from me and my family, so she chose the provincial department. Although distance wasn't a problem, and Q came home every week, our relationship remained the same. But I knew we would eventually drift apart.
In conclusion, I want to summarize. My sexual organs are at least 80% compatible with Q's. My length, hardness, and slightly upward curve are similar to the shape of Q's vagina. Once fully inside, it fits perfectly at Q's cervix. During Q's orgasm, she can clench and use her cervix to contain and suck my glans. Our position also stimulates Q's clitoris, and almost all our sensitive spots align during sex. My menstrual cycle is also similar to Q's. So even now, Q and I can still achieve simultaneous orgasms every time, and they're of very high quality. In contrast, my wife and I haven't been able to do that. We only achieve simultaneous orgasms two or three times out of ten. The other times, I ejaculate too early, so I need assistance to help my wife. Sometimes my wife finishes too early and starts to loosen, so I have to finish quickly. And I can't experience the same intense pleasure as with Q. During this time with Q, we only had trouble with rear-entry; it wasn't smooth. We tried everything else, and they all worked well. In the end, we always finished with that embracing position.
Q has been with several men. First, there was Z, a man with a long, thick penis, and a perfectly curved penis, completely inversely proportional to Q's—one pointing upwards, the other downwards. He was also very skilled, and on their wedding night, he directly violated Q's sexual desires. Q, being proud, refused other methods, and Z, being a man of pride, couldn't subtly guide her (perhaps related to their shared profession and position). Ultimately, they could only divorce. I feel that even if they had been more flexible, their incompatible physical attributes wouldn't have allowed them to stay together, even though they were a perfect match. Their relationship was excellent during their courtship and the first year of their marriage (perhaps because she became pregnant shortly after marriage, and they were hesitant to have sex, as they were both 28 and desperately wanted a child). The problems only surfaced after the child's birth, and the relationship ended after just over a year. As for the other men, all came from respectable backgrounds, had considerable wealth, but without exception, Q fled after any sexual encounter. Because Q knew it wasn't right, and her rationality based on her status and position led her to make a decisive move—a decision I strongly agree with. Now Q is a senior executive, holding an important position, and not young anymore. According to her, no one dares to pursue her anymore, and she can no longer get a man to take her away for romantic dates like she did before her promotion. It's estimated that no one dares to seduce her anymore. She'll probably remain single for the rest of her life.
Only the wearer knows if the shoe fits. Women are the best judges of size. Men, even without an opening, experience a moment of pleasure during ejaculation; pain is rarely heard of. But some women experience pain or even disgust in this area. Most of the time, it's over once the man finishes, even if she hasn't actually orgasmed. Often, women are more focused on pleasing men than on their own needs in this area.

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Even the most aloof goddess can't escape loneliness. (Repost)

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