Reposted from the author of the classic novel "Summer" (12-Part 1: Playing); by Youyuan

Chapter 12
The two of them, exhausted from their playful banter, began to think of Liang.
"It's getting late, and we still haven't heard him come back. Is he busy today?"
Helan asked him.
"Seems like nothing's wrong,"
Wen muttered, getting up to go to the bathroom.
When he returned, he seemed to have realized something.
"I understand!" he
said to Helan, "The kid feels guilty." Helan looked at him blankly. He got into bed and hugged her, "It's okay, don't worry. For example, if he and Xiao Li hadn't broken up, and I... and Xiao Li... had this affair. Even if he allowed or condoned it, I would still feel guilty." "And you? Don't you care at all?" Helan leaned close to his face and whispered. "My heart aches, it hurts so much," Wen said dramatically, "but..." "What?" Helan looked up. "When he comes back, we need to be more natural, otherwise he'll be under even more pressure, and we might not even be able to stay friends. I don't want to lose this brother." Helan sighed. "You men are such strange creatures." *** *** *** *** Liang didn't actually go anywhere. He stayed in a small bar not far from the neighborhood for over two hours. There was a World Cup qualifier being broadcast that night, and the bar was packed with fans, but he wasn't interested in watching the game. He buried his head and drank several cans of Budweiser. His mind was in turmoil. Wen had indeed figured out his thoughts; he was currently facing a lot of contradictions. Helan's dignified and virtuous demeanor was completely different from Xiao Li's spoiled and pampered temperament. Often, when he had a disagreement with his wife, he would unconsciously compare the two of them. In comparison, Helan's image naturally left a deep impression on him. Perhaps Wen wanted him to recover from the shadow of his divorce as soon as possible. She tried to avoid mentioning him and Xiao Li, as they were relatively well-behaved bachelors, a rarity in this southern city, with no record of extramarital affairs. Thus, He Lan naturally became the only woman the two men frequently talked about. Living far apart, the couple relied on phone calls and emails for communication. During their conversations, Liang would often grab the receiver and say a few words, his outspokenness a habit everyone was used to. The incident likely stemmed from a phone call after the Spring Festival—shortly after leaving home, He Lan called, and Liang loudly teased her, saying she couldn't bear being apart for only a few days. He Lan laughed and scolded him on the phone. To let him hear her scolding, Wen put the phone on speakerphone. The three chatted and laughed for a while. Wen asked if she missed him. He Lan, thinking he had turned off the speakerphone, said sweetly that she missed him terribly. Wen laughed and said, "Then come over. There are two husbands here; Liang's got nothing better to do anyway." Unaware of what was going on, Helan readily agreed, her voice filled with joy. Liang's heart pounded wildly. He remained silent for a moment. Perhaps Wen, engrossed in the playful banter between husband and wife, was oblivious, or perhaps he already understood. Now, he felt caught in a dilemma. With the three of them together, he tried his best to maintain a calm expression, but the more he did, the more uncomfortable he felt. He considered never approaching Helan again, but immediately dismissed the thought. He was hopelessly infatuated with Helan's gentleness. Perhaps time would settle things... he comforted himself. *** *** *** *** Helan, half-asleep, heard the door open. Wen was snoring loudly beside her. Hearing no one come in for a while, she got up, put on a nightgown, and crossed the living room. Through the peephole, she saw Liang leaning against the doorframe fiddling with his keys. She quickly opened the door. As soon as she opened the door, she was startled by his strong smell of alcohol, her heart pounding. She helped him up; Liang was clearly drunk, and he obediently followed her into his room. Helan brought him a bottle and placed it on the bedside table. "Throw it out, it'll be fine." Liang opened his bloodshot eyes, grinned, and said, "It's not that serious, it's okay... Hey, our Chinese team is really great this time, they have a good chance of qualifying." Helan ignored his nonsense, helped him sit up, took off his sweat-soaked T-shirt, then his trousers, went to the bathroom to wring out a hot towel, and wiped the sweat from his face. While wiping his face, Liang stared blankly at her; Helan sensed it, but she silently and methodically did everything without saying a word. Once the room cooled down, she turned the air conditioner down and bent down to pull a thin blanket over him. Liang watched her quietly, his eyes slightly blurred. As she did all this, her body beneath her loose cotton pajamas would often reveal certain parts in a fleeting, almost lightning-like manner. But she did it all naturally, without deliberately trying to cover herself up, yet the sensuality and maternal tenderness she exuded seemed to have already taken his heart out and gently kneaded it in his hands, almost crushing it with a few breaths. Finally, she sat on the edge of the bed. "Sleep, you'll feel better when you wake up." He reached out and pulled her close, timidly saying, "Sister Lan, I missed you! I was thinking about you the whole time I was outside!" He Lan smiled, touching his hand. "I know, me too. Sleep, be good." He Lan stood up, their eyes meeting. She sighed softly, sat on the bed, leaned against him, and gently hugged him. Liang, panting heavily, buried his face in her soft chest. He Lan's pajamas were casually open, most of her breast pressed against his face. "Look at what you've been drinking, go to sleep!" she said reproachfully. A moment later, he indeed began to snore softly. Helan lay awake, staring blankly at the ceiling. Her heart pounded loudly under Liang's pressure, her mind a jumble. What was going on? She wondered to herself in shock. Liang's sleeping posture was like a child's, unlike Wen, who, even in his dreams, was steady and mature, completely lacking Liang's casual and natural nature. She couldn't imagine what Wen's expression would be if he opened the door now and saw them lying together in each other's arms. Strangely, she was only trying to capture all the expressions she knew about Wen; nothing else connected her to him. The room was quiet, only the ticking of a small quartz clock on the table. She carefully placed a hand on him; Wen's broad chest muscles rose and fell gently. She touched it lightly, a warm current flowing through her body. She pressed her face against his shoulder, smelling a faint, alluring scent of sweat. She carefully lay down, afraid of waking him. They lay facing each other, her lips pressed against Liang's sensual lips. Helan suddenly thought of the word "sensual" and felt a little terrified. She felt like a thief, and unconsciously grinned slightly, gently pressing her lips to his thick ones. Liang groaned, and soon began to snore softly. She savored the pleasure from his lips, feeling her body tense up. She moved closer to him, and suddenly gasped. Liang's erect penis, which he had been using in his sleep, was pressing against her hip bone. Perhaps due to the sudden stimulation, Liang unconsciously rubbed against her a few times, and the heat emanating from his thin underwear almost made her scream.

Helan was helplessly tormented by lust, a constant flow of moisture surging between her thighs. She dared not disturb him, silently sliding her fingers down to her abdomen, where her nightgown had already been lifted.
She reached into her thick pubic hair, stroking individual strands, entwining them between her fingers, and pulling them forcefully. At first, she tried to use this method to inflict pain and dispel her desire, but the pain only intensified the burning heat in her genitals. Lost in her own world, she helplessly let her fingers slip through the moisture to the entrance, allowing her index finger to slide inside.
Soon, she pressed the tip of her thumb against her already erect clitoris, beginning to rub, slowly increasing the speed. She began to feel an immense pleasure surging from deep within her abdomen.
She remained wary of Liang, afraid he might wake at any moment, afraid he would witness her shamelessness.
She turned slightly, so that his penis was pressed against her buttocks, allowing her to feel him entering her from behind.
Helan cursed herself, yet she couldn't help but writhe, afraid to make a sound, her whole body consumed by rising desire.
Just then, something unexpected happened. Liang stirred, rolled over, and a hand perfectly positioned itself to grasp one of her breasts, holding it tightly. The unexpected stimulation sent Helan instantly soaring to the peak of orgasm, a clear gush of fluid gushing from her body, and she couldn't help but let out a soft moan.
Finally, she turned and nestled into his arms, exhausted but satisfied. She
quickly drifted off to sleep.

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Reposted from the author of the classic novel "Summer" (12-Part 1: Playing); by Youyuan

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