Past sexual encounters and longing

A sexual encounter too painful to recount, a lifelong longing that can never be forgotten.
I didn't have any other thoughts, but mainly I was worried that my studies would be very intense after school started, and that studying late every day would disturb their rest. I was also afraid that the two children would cause trouble. At that time, high schools were rare, and most junior high school students couldn't get into high school. Although I was confident about that, the pressure was still there. Since my aunt said so, what could I say? So I readily agreed. At night, my aunt arranged for me to sit at the head of the kang (a heated brick bed), my younger brother next to me, and her at the far end. In fact, my aunt was right. Spreading firewood on one kang saved firewood and made the room extra warm. My aunt kept the two children very disciplined, and they never disturbed my studies. Whenever the night was quiet and the three of them were asleep, I would set up the kang table and study by lamplight. After the summer came, I suggested living alone in the west room, but my aunt dissuaded me, saying she was afraid of the night. After this change, especially after the Spring Festival, my aunt took care of me almost meticulously. Every day she would put food in the pot and tell me to eat whenever I was hungry. Later, seeing that I never touched the food in the pot, she would get up in the middle of the night, put on her clothes, and give me some snacks or a bowl of malted milk. Whenever this happened, I would give a grateful smile and then continue burying myself in my studies. For nearly a year, from the second semester of junior high to the first semester of senior high, we spent our time in this warm and harmonious way. Before the high school entrance exam, I had a fierce internal struggle. My family wanted me to apply to the county's top high school, which I also longed for; it was the best school in the county, and with my grades, getting in shouldn't be a problem. However, the monthly food and accommodation fee of 15 yuan worried my father. The former principal naturally hoped I would apply to the high school affiliated with their school. Before the exam, he called a meeting with us and said, "In terms of reputation, we don't have the same prestige as No. 1 High School, but the level of our main teachers is by no means inferior. Your grades would be top-notch even at No. 1 High School. The uneven academic performance of our students is due to societal reasons. Here's the problem: at No. 1 High School, nobody knows you; you're just ordinary students. Here, you're our precious students, and I will use all my resources to nurture you. This isn't because I'm overly concerned with fame and fortune; too many students get in through connections every year, making it impossible for me to be the principal. If we don't take this approach, our key school will collapse in less than two years. I'll retire in a few years, and I won't be afraid of anything anymore. In any case, I want those who got in based on their academic performance to have a good outcome; otherwise, I'll be letting your parents down. Go back and discuss it with your parents. Even the best schools have bad students, and even the worst schools have good students. Besides, studying at our school can save us some money." The old principal's words had already solidified my determination to apply to our school, but when I returned to my aunt's house, I still earnestly sought her opinion and clearly stated that I wanted to apply to No. 1 High School. After I explained the situation, she remained silent for a long time before finally saying softly, "Go if you want to. Tuition isn't a problem; I'll pay for it." I was touched and couldn't bear to lie to her anymore: "Actually, I've already made up my mind; I'll take the entrance exam for this school." My aunt looked up, stared at me blankly for a long time, then suddenly blushed, gritted her teeth, and slapped me hard with the sole of a shoe she was sewing: "Tell me, is it because you're reluctant to let your aunt go?" "That's part of it," I answered truthfully, laughing and dodging. My aunt was very excited. Since the day I met her, I had never seen her express her true feelings so openly. I suddenly noticed that my aunt was actually very beautiful. While I was still hesitating about which school to apply to, my younger brother quietly passed the entrance exam for the county's No. 1 Middle School and started boarding. Although I was five years older than my younger brother, I started school two years later because my home was far from the school, while my younger brother started a year earlier because his home was near the school. All things considered, I was only three years older than my younger brother. On September 1st, I stepped into Class 1 of the first year of high school, backpack on my back. That teacher, always full of quirky remarks but incredibly experienced, became my homeroom teacher. Upon seeing me, she mimicked Yin Chuan from *Dream of the Red Chamber*, saying, "The phoenix has arrived! Come in quickly!" The first year of high school was the most relaxed. Although the school and teachers kept reminding us, they intentionally or unintentionally loosened their management. Because my uncle was injured in the line of duty, the village was responsible for cultivating our family's contracted land; we only tended our own vegetable garden. In my spare time, besides helping my aunt with some farm work, I had no other burdens. Confident in my intelligence and good foundation, I picked up sports I'd loved in elementary school, like basketball and table tennis, playing them all day long. My aunt had reminded me to study hard several times. I still ranked first in the whole school in the midterm exams. At noon, I showed my grades to my aunt, and she happily hugged and kissed me. This unusually affectionate gesture foreshadowed the later "unspeakable" events. Previously, although my relationship with my aunt was intimate to the point of being ambiguous, she didn't deliberately hide her private life from me. For example, when she relieved herself in the vegetable garden, she would only step away a few steps and turn her back to loosen her belt. After my younger brother went to boarding school, she would ask me to accompany her when she got up at night. I never had any improper thoughts, always believing that this was just a normal life for an elder and not difficult. Perhaps she felt a little guilty for not preparing New Year's goods because she was in a bad mood? Her eyes revealed an overwhelming sense of privilege. We always maintained a harmonious and pure relationship. Now, it seems that the foundation of this harmony and purity was unreliable. After all, she wasn't an elder in the true sense. When a person's psychological rebellious phase passes, what follows is a desire to understand the mystery of the opposite sex. With age and the maturation of sexual organs and sexual awareness, there is generally an urge to try things out. This urge is influenced by environment and conditions, but subjectively, it is mainly bound by traditional moral ethics. Once the environment and conditions are right, morality and ethics become powerless, and sex becomes ubiquitous. Mencius said, "Sex is about food and sex." An elderly professor in his fifties during my university years put it even more bluntly when discussing physiology: "Sex is the foundation of the reproduction and development of humankind and even all things in the universe; without sex, there is nothing." I was already 18 years old, and in this environment, besides emotional barriers, I was mainly too busy with studies to think about sex. Now that these obstacles have disappeared, facing a mature woman I met by chance—charming, with whom I share a deep bond, and only 33 years old—the age gap isn't large enough to resist the general law of attraction between the sexes, it's inevitable that I'll feel a lustful desire. My aunt, after more than a year of adjustment, has emerged from the shadow of grief, her life is back on track, and her children are no longer with her (her daughter is in preschool). Facing a strong, tall man, someone she spends every day with, someone she considers a close friend, yet someone she met by chance, the theory of "sex is about food and sex" also applies. My aunt's kiss instantly aroused me with an uncontrollable excitement. Impulse overwhelmed reason. After the kiss, I hugged her tightly, so much so that my penis became erect and pressed against her abdomen, which was only separated by a thin sheet of cloth, due to the soft, smooth flesh of her body. My aunt must have felt it. After a moment of silence, she tapped my forehead with her finger, then pushed me away, blushing, and said, "The children will be back for dinner soon. Let's see if they run into each other." Afterwards, although I felt ashamed and remorseful, I couldn't suppress my lustful gaze at my aunt's snow-white breasts, slender waist, and rounded buttocks. A possessive desire began to grow. I knew that my aunt was not just a housewife, nor was she uneducated. She had graduated from a teacher training school in Wuxi, Jiangsu Province, in the early days of the Cultural Revolution. A few years earlier, she had been a teacher at the Dongtou Elementary School in the town. My younger brother's good grades and early start in school were thanks to my aunt's help. At the end of 1979, at my uncle's insistence, she gave birth to a daughter and resigned from her job because of the one-child policy. As for why this beautiful woman from Jiangnan ultimately married a penniless villager, my aunt never said, and I never asked; it remains a mystery to this day. Although my aunt was 34 and had two children, she maintained her skin and figure very well because she didn't do manual labor, making her look younger than her actual age. In particular, she possessed the prominent breasts and full hips characteristic of northern women, making her exceptionally alluring and sexy. My aunt's status and figure undoubtedly intensified my longing for her. My aunt could sense my desire, but she never reprimanded or advised me, always just laughing it off. Whether it was due to her virtuous character or her own yearning for love and intentional indulgence, I don't know. My own desires gradually swelled, yet I dared not act rashly. One afternoon, not long after the start of the next semester, during self-study, I realized I had forgotten my math workbook and hurriedly went back to get it. I opened the gate and entered the yard, only to find the house door locked. I assumed my aunt had gone to the vegetable garden, so without thinking much of it, I unlocked the door. Pushing it open, I saw my aunt standing naked in the center of the main room, taking a bath. I stood there, stunned, staring at her flawless white body. Suddenly, she cried out and crouched down, instinctively covering her breasts with her hands, her hairy private parts completely exposed. Seeing me staring, she said with a hint of annoyance, "What are you looking at? Come inside." Half-asleep, I suddenly realized what was happening and hurriedly went into the bedroom. Calming myself, I guessed my aunt was already dressed and came out with my exercise book. My aunt had a yellow towel wrapped around her from her breasts to her knees, her expression serene, and she asked with a smile, "What are you doing back at this hour?" I had been ashamed of my reprimand, but seeing my aunt's expression and her exposed skin, my lust quickly returned. I didn't answer her, but instead, with a flirtatious grin, I wrapped my arms around her waist and nuzzled her breasts with my mouth. My aunt was initially hesitant, but just as I mustered the courage to take things further, she pulled her hand away and said, "Stop fooling around, go to school. We'll talk about it tonight." I wouldn't, and dared not, force her, especially since she said, "We'll talk about it tonight." This was undoubtedly a glimmer of hope. I let go of my aunt, made a face at her, and went back to school. All afternoon, my mind was filled with images of my aunt's snow-white skin, small breasts, and dark...My private parts... After school, I politely declined my friends' invitation and went back to my aunt's house early. Seeing me return early, my aunt smiled and said, "Good morning!" I used my old trick again, brazenly hugging her and saying, "Auntie, I'll sleep next to you tonight." "Go, go pick up your little sister!" My aunt habitually tapped my forehead and went to cook. That evening, I couldn't concentrate on my studies, and just after 9 pm I shouted, "I'm sleepy, let's go to sleep!" My little sister was obedient; hearing "sleep," she lay down between us and fell asleep quickly. Looking at my little sister's spot and then at my indifferent aunt, I was a little annoyed. I deliberately ignored her, and without even taking off my socks, I lay down and went to sleep fully clothed (I usually sleep in my underwear). After a moment of silence, my aunt whispered, "You're useless!" As she spoke, she pushed my little sister, along with her mattress and blanket, towards the side of the bed, making room between us. I immediately went from annoyed to happy, looking at my aunt with gratitude. My aunt, her face flushed, glanced at me, moved her bedding over, paused for a moment, let out a couple of deep breaths, then turned off the light, got into bed, took off her clothes, and crawled into her own. If my actions and thoughts needed some concealment under the light, in the darkness, all my lewdness was brazenly revealed. I was excited, aroused, and terrified. After what seemed like an eternity, my hand timidly slipped under the edge of her blanket and touched her smooth breasts. She seemed to want to push me away, but after gently moving my hand slightly, she let go weakly. After a while, I became bolder, my hand gradually moving down, touching her smooth, soft belly and then her shorts. When I tried to slip my hand under the edge of her shorts, she grabbed my hand again, but instead placed it on her own breast. This happened several times. I struggled free and finally touched her bushy, pubic hair, then her moist, soft vulva. Instantly, I felt like I was electrified, my blood boiling, losing all sense of reason and self. I jumped up and ripped off my clothes (without taking off my shorts), pulled back the covers from my aunt's bed, and roughly straddled her, my hands touching her breasts, my mouth nibbling at her lips and chest, my body twisting violently. My aunt touched my shorts and said, "Take them off." I kicked off my shorts with my hands and feet, my thick, hard penis pressed against my aunt's private parts. To this day, I don't know when my aunt's shorts were gone. My aunt remained calm, occasionally letting out a sigh or two. When she realized I didn't know how to have sex, she turned to the side, grasped my penis, and aimed it at one of her parts. I applied a little force, feeling a slippery, soft, and smooth sensation, a wave of pleasure washing over me. My penis entered deep into my aunt's body, and my aunt and I almost simultaneously gasped, "Ah!" After the gasp, my aunt remained calm. I thought all women were like this, letting men do as they pleased. But as the piston-like movements reached a frenzied, chaotic point, and the first spurt of semen flooded my aunt's body, she suddenly went wild, letting out suppressed moans, her hips twisting wildly, her hands sometimes tightening, sometimes pushing away. Most pleasurable was the way her genitals powerfully opened and closed with the frequency of my ejaculation… I woke up just as dawn was breaking and was shocked to see her and me still naked, embracing each other. What would I say if her daughter saw us? Even though she was young, she could describe and repeat things. I hurriedly scrambled back into my own bed and put on my clothes. She woke up too, looked around in equal fear, then pinched me hard and sat up to wipe the stained sheets…Normally, we'd both be up by this time. I had to attend morning self-study, and she was preparing breakfast for me. I had no interest in studying. While she was getting dressed and cooking in the kitchen, I followed her out, grabbed her arm, and slipped my hand inside her waistband. She said, "I knew you weren't done. Sigh! I shouldn't have done this with you." As she spoke, she unbuckled her belt. My aunt had given birth to two children, so her genitals were naturally more relaxed, making penetration easy. However, once inside, she enveloped my penis tightly. Again, she entered a frenzied state during ejaculation (years of experience have proven that our sex life is most harmonious; we almost always reach orgasm simultaneously). The barrier between us had been broken, and there was no more shyness or bashfulness. Apart from some psychological barriers due to her age, her libido was extremely strong. That afternoon, I didn't go to school. As soon as she returned from dropping off her children, I carried her onto the kang (heated brick bed), stripped off her clothes, and indulged in admiring and playing with her genitals. She, in turn, openly kissed my penis. At night, already exhausted, I still secretly lifted her blanket and ravaged her. From then on, I was trapped in a quagmire of indulgence from which I could not extricate myself. This description is somewhat absurd, sordid, and vulgar, but it is the truth, and since I have written it, there is no need to cover it up. I believe that men and women, especially in the early stages of sex, should all have similar feelings, at most differing in degree. Neither of us are promiscuous people, as later events can prove, but not being promiscuous does not mean not having a desire for sex. She possessed endearing qualities that most women do not have, including physical and personality traits. I often wondered, how could such an excellent woman have fallen to the status of a peasant woman? Was this also a consequence of the "Cultural Revolution"? She had no temper, always smiling whether at me, her children, or strangers. She had depression, worries, and sorrows, but she never took them out on others. She was a weak woman, yet she was so resolute and calm in the face of major changes. Even today, as an official in charge of a certain area, I still admire and feel inferior whenever I recall her seemingly contradictory yet organically combined personality traits—her sensitivity, generosity, gentleness, and fortitude. The sadness and confusion after her retirement, her husband's rudeness and tyranny, and the sharp conflicts with her neighbors—all of this severely damaged her physical and mental health. When I first met her, her hair, though black, was disheveled; her face, though pale, was haggard; her smile, though present, was bitter. She was always cautious, like a maid or a child bride from an old era. Since I entered her life, from the initial budding mother-son relationship to that of lovers and future husband, her body and mind have fully recovered (in her own words). Her appearance is completely different from before. During lovemaking, I once asked, "How come I never noticed how beautiful you are before?" She smiled and said, "A son's feelings for his mother are indistinguishable between beauty and ugliness." The truth is, when I first arrived, I rarely looked at her directly, let alone examined her closely. So, her attentiveness and obedience were merely for survival. My appearance injected new vitality into her life—something I myself never expected, but she understood. She once said, "A woman with a loving man can stay young forever." What I'm most fascinated by is her naked body: fair and delicate, with well-defined curves and varying thicknesses, and lying on it feels as gentle as water. Most women have a small patch of pubic hair on their mons pubis below the abdomen, but hers was thick and fluffy all over her vagina from the lower abdomen down. Her labia majora were like a watershed, smooth and full, like a proud boulder standing tall in the jungle; her labia minora were wide and rosy, stubbornly protruding beyond the labia majora. This unique physiological structure was perfectly suited for the thrusting and withdrawing of my large penis. I've had two girlfriends (including my wife), but neither was as comfortable and pleasant as her. I asked him what his ethnicity was. She said, "Although I am Han Chinese, I have Mongolian ancestry. My maternal grandmother was pure Mongolian." Remembering a vulgar saying widely circulated in my hometown, I recited it to her: "Mongolian bitch, high-statured, gets itchy after three days without sex. No wonder you're so charming, you're mixed race!" I teased, and she leaned over to pinch my cheek. Since my "aunt" was virtuous and had picked up the habit of spoiling men common among women in my hometown, she started giving me special treatment from the moment we began our sexual relationship, making sure I had an egg every morning. From then on, she resolutely forbade me from taking any more grain from home, demanding I explain to my family that my work was enough to cover the cost of grain. And I, because of her gentle embrace, became so engrossed that I didn't want to go back home, neither wanting to study nor return. It wasn't until two consecutive events two months later that we finally came to our senses. In early November, her period didn't come, and she became restless. I didn't understand, and continued to pester her for sex every day. Although she rarely refused, she was clearly not focused during sex. What puzzled me most was that she would try her best to distance herself from me every time I ejaculated. Only after I got angry did she calmly tell me with a smile, "I might be pregnant." I was terrified. At that time, the one-child policy was being enforced. Many families with more children than allowed were being ruined. Anyone with one child had to use an IUD; anyone with two children had to undergo sterilization. My aunt had an IUD after her last child, but after my uncle's death, the relevant departments neglected the sterilization requirements. It was probably dislodged because the medical facilities in the countryside were inadequate or because of too frequent and vigorous sexual activity. My biggest worry was the social environment at the time, while her biggest worry was her reputation and my future. And the fear of being exposed was no joke. There's a saying: "A widow giving birth—she has a backup plan," but her backup plan couldn't last that long. I, who had always been fearless, was now terrified. Seeing me listless all day, my aunt comforted me, saying, "Don't be afraid, wait a few days and see. If you're really pregnant, I'll find a way." But I knew how easy it was to find a solution back then. Even legitimate pregnancies and abortions require paperwork at hospitals. Another half month passed, feeling like an eternity, with still no sign of pregnancy. One day, my aunt smiled and said to me, "Looks like we can't wait any longer. If we wait any longer, people will notice and we'll be laughed at." "What should we do?" I asked. "You'll have to work hard these next few days, taking care of yourself. I'm going back to my parents' house; I'll be back in a week at most." "I can manage on my own, but what about my younger sister?" "I'll take her with me." The next day, my aunt asked for leave for my younger sister and left by train that evening. I felt like I was living in hell at home, eating only one meal a day at most. On the fourth day, she returned. Seeing her pale face, I asked worriedly, "How is she?" "It's all over!" It turned out she hadn't gone to her parents' house, but had gone to a hospital in Handan to visit her classmate. I was so excited that I forgot the baby was still in front of me and rushed to pick her up. Luckily, the baby was taking off her shoes and didn't see me. But one problem after another arose. Just as my aunt was resting in bed, my midterm exam results came out. I only passed 3 out of 12 subjects, and failed all 5 major subjects. I heard math was passable, but the math teacher tore up my answer sheet halfway through grading because my answers were so poorly written—and I was the math class representative! My grades caused a huge uproar at school. I went from being a phoenix to a drowned rat. First, my homeroom teacher, who taught Chinese, talked to me: "You can't really tell much in the first year of high school, but things start to diverge in the second year. Were you eliminated before the second year?" Then the dean of students asked: "What happened? Did you get arrogant?" The math teacher was the most decisive, immediately announcing in the classroom: "X Sikai is removed from the position of math class representative!" The school's Youth League secretary, the youngest female instructor and political teacher, was quite cultured and had a keen sense of trends. She smiled throughout her conversation with me: "Got a boyfriend, huh?" Honestly, I hated her. To this day, I don't like people involved in political work. Only the old principal's words brought tears to my eyes: "One exam doesn't prove anything. I believe in you!" I walked in dejectedly. My aunt reached out from under the covers and touched my forehead: "Are you feeling unwell?" I handed her the report card, and she suddenly sat up, staring at me blankly. We were speechless. My aunt's naked, alluring body was visible through the gap in the covers, but I had no interest in admiring it. It was already dark; it was time to pick up the children. After careful consideration, I said to my aunt in a firm voice, "Auntie, I'll go pick up the children. We'll see about the next exam. If I still don't do well, I'll never see you again!" "Okay! I'm relieved to hear that. It was all my fault before; I was too lenient. We'll both be more careful from now on. My biggest worry is letting your parents down. But, if you don't do well next time, will you never see me again?" "My aunt's nerves relaxed a lot. I smiled at her and went out to pick up the child without saying anything. For nearly two months after that, we didn't make love. To focus on my studies, I asked to live alone again. She agreed, and only then did I realize that she hadn't let me live alone before because she was afraid of the night. She hadn't dared to turn off the lights since I moved out. I studied hard, and she took meticulous care of me. The school even held a special meeting to discuss the reasons for my decline and assigned several teachers to give me special help. In January 1984, I once again achieved top marks in the first semester final exams of my first year of high school. That noon, I excitedly entered the house and handed her my report card. After looking at it, she jumped up and hugged me like a child. The long-suppressed desire exploded. When I unbuckled her belt, she hesitated and said, 'Is it okay?' I asked her, 'Aren't you okay?' Having learned my lesson last time, I didn't dare to be presumptuous again. 'I'm fine, I'm afraid it will affect your studies again.' 'Just once, it won't affect it.' She obediently got onto the bed and took off her clothes. The so-called long-term..."Our lovemaking was like a honeymoon, so intense that her daughter called for her mother in the yard, startling me so much that I hurriedly grabbed my clothes and ran back to my room. If before I didn't understand love, responsibility, or obligation, and was just having sex for the sake of sex, these two setbacks had made me much more rational and mature. That night, after her daughter fell asleep, she came to my room, and we hugged and talked for a long time. I proposed for the first time: "Let's get married after I get into university." Although she didn't agree, I could tell she was very excited; she held me tightly for a long time after we finished. Sex, once tried, is hard to forget. Especially since we lived together, it was almost impossible to completely abstain, but learning from our two previous experiences, we practiced restraint well, agreeing to only have sex once a week. It turned out that regular and moderate sex was beneficial to mental recovery and physical health. Regular sex also boosted my studies. I successfully gained admission to a prestigious university in Wuhan. My hometown was abuzz with excitement. My parents, relatives, teachers, and the principal were overjoyed. Posters were plastered all the way from the school to the entrance of the county's top high school. Yes, in those days, for a rural middle school to produce a college graduate, especially from a prestigious university, was a sensation, both imaginable and completely understandable. When I finally managed to escape all my social obligations and return to my aunt's side, she stood at the door smiling, just as she had welcomed me when I moved in years ago. I was so carried away that I didn't care that my child was right beside me, or even that the neighbors were watching, and I picked her up in my arms. The child laughed and jumped around, shouting, "Brother's going to college! Brother's hugging Mommy!" I made no attempt to hide anything. My aunt remained surprisingly calm. When I put her down, she smoothed her hair and still smiled, saying, "Haven't eaten yet? Auntie'll make you some food." Her calmness was like a bucket of cold water, instantly sobering me up. From the moment I received my acceptance letter, I never stepped foot inside that door again. Putting myself in her shoes, if I were her, having devoted myself to caring for a poor scholar for six years, sending him to university, only to have him abandon his old home before he even took flight, how would I feel? I know I was wrong, even though I had my reasons, even though I would never be a heartless man like Chen Shimei. I didn't comfort her, nor did I offer sweet words; I knew any words would be inadequate at that moment. I tried to act more like a husband, talking to her about everyday things, and subtly instructing her on how to take care of herself and our home after I left. She just smiled. After dinner, with the children asleep, she came to my room, declaring, "I've come to chat with you for a while; there won't be many more opportunities." Without thinking much, I briefly recounted my activities over the past few days and then embraced her, proposing intimacy. She refused for the first time. After much pleading, she reluctantly pulled down her pants… She showed no passion; her eyes, like pools of autumn water, remained fixed on the ceiling. This was our last time having sex. Afterwards, I brought up the topic of marriage again. I said, "I'm already 19, past the legal marriage age; no one has the right to interfere." [To be honest, I wasn't without pressure about marrying her. Age and children seemed like insurmountable barriers. The condemnation from society wasn't the biggest concern; the biggest obstacle would be my parents. But I believed it was all a matter of time; with the passage of time, everything would pass.] I firmly believed she would be good to my parents, and that kind parents wouldn't force me to abandon the person I loved. I also believed that after getting to know them, they would like her too. My strongest conviction was that since I wouldn't be able to return to this place after graduating from university, I would let her follow me wherever I went. These sentiments undoubtedly reflected my sincerity, but in retrospect, they seem naive. When I told her all this, she calmly said, "Not now, let's talk about it after you graduate." On the day I left home, the primary and secondary schools held stilt-walking events, and the small station was packed with people and filled with the sounds of gongs and drums. Surrounded by relatives and teachers, I arrived at the rural station. My family knew she was good to me, but at that moment, no one thought of her. My eyes searched the crowd, but she was nowhere to be found. Amidst the blessings of the people, I boarded the train heading south. As the speeding train passed the crossing east of the town, a woman stood in the lush green vegetable field… For me, she was more than just a lover; she gave me the love of a mother. Whenever I wrote a letter, I would send hers along with my parents', and they always replied promptly. And yet, there was still no news of her. Winter break finally arrived, but when I rushed to her door, it was locked. I couldn't ask the neighbors; I knew they didn't get along. Just as I turned to leave in disappointment, my neighbor, Auntie, approached me: "Looking for Shuxian? She moved." "Where did she move to?" "I think to the south." I stared blankly at Auntie. She sighed, "Ah! Actually, she was a good person!" The next day, I went to the county's No. 1 Middle School to try and find my younger brother, but people told me, "He transferred schools." As soon as I left the school gate, I said angrily, "So thorough, you bastard!" Anger, disappointment, and longing swirled together. On the train back home from the county town, I gazed at the place where we had worked and lived, unable to dispel my depression. Tears streamed down my cheeks, drawing many questioning glances… If she had only given me a mother's affection, perhaps I wouldn't miss her so much, because her sacrifices couldn't compare to a mother's; if she had only been a lover, I wouldn't miss her so much either, for where in the world are there no lovers? What makes her so unforgettable is that she was both a mother and a lover to me. She once braved the rain to bring me an umbrella from the school fields; she once waded across the river to fetch medicine for me. When our tractor trip to pay respects at a martyrs' cemetery, several miles away, tragically overturned, she trekked to the scene, only smiling through her tears when she saw me gesturing with my classmates. Undeniably, we had a sexual relationship. But are all sexual relationships shameful? Afterwards, she would hold my legs between hers, my head resting on her arm, like cradling a baby, until I fell asleep, then quietly return to her room… All of that is in the past. I searched frantically for her, even to this day… This article should end here. Thank you for your support and encouragement. I am not seeking attention, nor am I simply bored; this is my personal experience. Although the descriptions of sex in the article are rather explicit, it is necessary to express my longing for my aunt in this way. I think if my aunt saw this, she wouldn't be angry. Perhaps she would give up her reclusive life because she cherishes those unforgettable years. I believe my aunt loves me, like she loves her husband, even more like she loves her son. Perhaps she was too concerned with her reputation or my future, thus forgoing the repayment she deserved and depriving me of the right to reciprocate. We are both old now; my aunt is past fifty, and I am approaching forty. Time has swept away the passion, leaving behind a deep and abiding affection, as vast as the heavens and the earth. I call out to the boundless sky: "Aunt, come back! No matter what your identity is, I will gladly accept you as long as you wish..."..For me, she was more than just a lover; she gave me a mother's love. Whenever I wrote a letter, I would send it along with my parents', and my parents always replied promptly. But I remained silent about her. Finally, winter break arrived, and when I rushed to her door, I found it locked. I couldn't ask the neighbors; I knew they didn't get along. Just as I turned to leave in disappointment, my neighbor, Auntie, approached me: "Looking for Shuxian? She moved." "Where did she move to?" "I think to the south." I stared blankly at Auntie. She sighed, "Ah! Actually, she was a good person!" The next day, I went to the county's No. 1 Middle School to try and find my younger brother, but people told me, "He transferred schools." As soon as I left the school gate, I said angrily, "So thorough, you bastard!" Anger, disappointment, and longing swirled together. On the train back home from the county town, I gazed at the place where we had worked and lived, unable to vent my frustration. Tears streamed down my cheeks, drawing many questioning glances… If she had only given me the affection of a mother, perhaps I wouldn't miss her so much, because her devotion can't compare to that of a mother; if she were merely a lover, I wouldn't miss her so much either, for there are lovers everywhere. The reason she haunts my dreams is that she is both a mother and a lover. She once braved the rain to bring me an umbrella from the school fields; she once waded across the river to fetch medicine for me. When our tractor trip to pay respects at a martyrs' cemetery, several miles away, unfortunately overturned, she trekked to the scene, and only when she saw me gesturing and laughing with my classmates did she stop crying. Undeniably, we had a sexual relationship. But are all sexual relationships shameful? Afterwards, she would hold my legs between hers, let my head rest on her arm, like holding a baby, and quietly return to her room after I fell asleep… All of that is in the past. I searched frantically, even to this day… This article should end here. Thank you for your support and encouragement. I am not seeking attention, nor am I simply bored; this is my personal experience. Although the descriptions of sex in the text are overly explicit, it's necessary to express my longing for my aunt without them. I think if she saw this, she wouldn't be angry; perhaps she would even abandon her reclusive life because she cherishes those unforgettable years. I believe my aunt loved me, like a husband, even more like a son. Perhaps she was too concerned with her reputation or my future, forgoing the repayment she deserved and depriving me of the right to reciprocate. We are both old now; my aunt is past fifty, and I am approaching forty. Time has swept away the passion, leaving behind a deep and abiding affection, as vast as the heavens and the earth. I call out to the boundless sky: "Aunt, come back! Whatever your identity, I will gladly accept you as long as you wish..."For me, she was more than just a lover; she gave me a mother's love. Whenever I wrote a letter, I would send it along with my parents', and my parents always replied promptly. But I remained silent about her. Finally, winter break arrived, and when I rushed to her door, I found it locked. I couldn't ask the neighbors; I knew they didn't get along. Just as I turned to leave in disappointment, my neighbor, Auntie, approached me: "Looking for Shuxian? She moved." "Where did she move to?" "I think to the south." I stared blankly at Auntie. She sighed, "Ah! Actually, she was a good person!" The next day, I went to the county's No. 1 Middle School to try and find my younger brother, but people told me, "He transferred schools." As soon as I left the school gate, I said angrily, "So thorough, you bastard!" Anger, disappointment, and longing swirled together. On the train back home from the county town, I gazed at the place where we had worked and lived, unable to vent my frustration. Tears streamed down my cheeks, drawing many questioning glances… If she had only given me the affection of a mother, perhaps I wouldn't miss her so much, because her devotion can't compare to that of a mother; if she were merely a lover, I wouldn't miss her so much either, for there are lovers everywhere. The reason she haunts my dreams is that she is both a mother and a lover. She once braved the rain to bring me an umbrella from the school fields; she once waded across the river to fetch medicine for me. When our tractor trip to pay respects at a martyrs' cemetery, several miles away, unfortunately overturned, she trekked to the scene, and only when she saw me gesturing and laughing with my classmates did she stop crying. Undeniably, we had a sexual relationship. But are all sexual relationships shameful? Afterwards, she would hold my legs between hers, let my head rest on her arm, like holding a baby, and quietly return to her room after I fell asleep… All of that is in the past. I searched frantically, even to this day… This article should end here. Thank you for your support and encouragement. I am not seeking attention, nor am I simply bored; this is my personal experience. Although the descriptions of sex in the text are overly explicit, it's necessary to express my longing for my aunt without them. I think if she saw this, she wouldn't be angry; perhaps she would even abandon her reclusive life because she cherishes those unforgettable years. I believe my aunt loved me, like a husband, even more like a son. Perhaps she was too concerned with her reputation or my future, forgoing the repayment she deserved and depriving me of the right to reciprocate. We are both old now; my aunt is past fifty, and I am approaching forty. Time has swept away the passion, leaving behind a deep and abiding affection, as vast as the heavens and the earth. I call out to the boundless sky: "Aunt, come back! Whatever your identity, I will gladly accept you as long as you wish..."

URL 1:https://www.sexlove5.com/htmlBlog/121818.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=121818&aspx=1

Previous Page : Looking for a high-quality single man or couple in Shenzhen

Next Page : Reprinted - Detailed Explanation of Techniques for Achieving G-Spot Orgasm in Women

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

Past sexual encounters and longing

comment Open a new window to view comments