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My imagination drew me close to a man who lived two hours away from my city. He tried many times to see me, but I always refused. Then one evening, I was online and, as usual, he greeted me and said he wanted to see me. Thinking he was out of town, I casually replied, "Sure, where do you want to meet? As long as you can come." He suggested the pedestrian street. I agreed, "Okay, fly over." Then his avatar went offline. I chuckled inwardly, another boring man, and continued browsing the internet aimlessly… His avatar lit up again, and he told me he was at the pedestrian street, his first time there, and had searched for a long time, but he would wait for me until I arrived. I was startled. "Are you kidding? Aren't you in your area?" He smiled smugly. "Can't I come? Look at my IP address. I'll come no matter how far to see you." I sensed his smugness on my end. "What, are you afraid to come? Afraid I'll eat you?" Faced with his provocation, I was happy. This was the second man besides my husband willing to travel so far to see me. I wasn't afraid of him; I was confident in myself. "Are you afraid we'll have a one-night stand? Are you afraid you won't be able to resist me when you see me?" Faced with his unhurried teasing, I...
I quickly typed out a message: "I'm scared, I've never been afraid of anyone before..." "Then come out! I can't bear to think about what you look like. If you're a dinosaur, I'll leave immediately..." "Bad man, lecherous scoundrel," I typed a string of righteous indignation... "Then come on over. I'll wait for you at the Nike store on the pedestrian street. I'll wait until you come. I believe that after chatting for so long, you'll consider me a friend..." After waiting a long time, I finally replied: "Guess if I'll come." Then I logged off. I shut down my computer and thought for a moment. Fine, I'll go. What am I afraid of on my own turf? I changed into an outfit I felt was decent, and lightly applied lipstick and eyeshadow before heading out. I was very close to the Nike store, but I didn't see anyone. I went into the store, pretending to look at hats, secretly observing the people around me. It seemed no one was there. I breathed a sigh of relief, but was also a little disappointed. Maybe he was lying to me; he hadn't come at all. I looked around again…and finally I saw him… I walked with him silently for a while. He asked when my husband would be back, and I said I didn't know. He then asked if I could come to his place for a while, but I said no. He then smiled and asked, "Then where should we go? What should we do? You can't just leave me alone on the street, can you?" I sighed, thinking that walking around on the street like this wasn't good, but I didn't know where to go. "How about we get a room?" he said with a mischievous grin. I was startled. "No, I'm not going to a room." He laughed even more brazenly. "What are you afraid of? I'm getting a room to sleep, not asking you to come. I can't sleep on the street, can I? Come on, lead the way." I nervously followed him to a hotel. I told him, "You can stay here. I'm going home." He told me to wait for him for a while, but I said no. He insisted it would only be a little while, so I said okay, but I'll wait for you outside the lobby. Standing outside the lobby, I thought, "He's not bad. He's a mature and humorous man." I gradually developed a liking for him and became less wary of him. Just then, he came out and said he wanted to go for a late-night snack and asked me to come with him. I agreed, but I was worried about being seen by acquaintances, so I took him to a place a bit far from home where I felt I wouldn't know anyone. We talked a lot that night. I found him witty and intelligent; he often knew what I was going to say before I even finished. He also really admired me and sympathized with my separation from my husband. I gradually realized how nice he was, and without realizing it, we grew closer. I'm not the traditional type of woman, the kind who feels awkward talking to men. He asked me what I thought about one-night stands and extramarital affairs. I told him I thought as long as two people like each other and have feelings for each other, it's a matter of freedom. I was surprised at my own answer; I hadn't even considered how I would face my husband or wife after it happened. Maybe people are emotional creatures sometimes, especially women, who sometimes lose control of their reason and are easily impulsive. I think I was that kind of woman that night. It was getting late, and he invited me to his place. He mentioned he was leaving the next day and wanted to chat a bit longer. I'd had a little to drink, but I was quite sober. I knew what might happen if I went, but I found a lot of enjoyment that night with him. My husband hadn't been with me in a long time, and his gentleness and patience brought back a long-lost warmth. I didn't want to ruin the atmosphere; I just thought this man was wonderful. At the same time, I felt a long-lost urge within me—a longing for someone to hold me until dawn. Perhaps it was the inner turmoil, or perhaps the stimulation of the alcohol, but I went with him… After showering, he gently held me, his hands roaming over my body, his lips meeting mine. I turned my head away; I didn't want to kiss a man other than my husband. He respected my feelings, gently placing me on the bed, his hands softly exploring my body, his warm lips taking my nipple into his mouth. I let out a soft moan. I could feel his rapid breathing; his hot, urgent breath tickled my skin, making me feel incredibly comfortable. He was very experienced and quickly found my erogenous zones. As soon as he stimulated my nipples, I couldn't control myself. He saw my weakness and attacked it even more fiercely. A masterpiece of God, he obsessively assaulted my nipples, as if knowing that conquering her meant conquering me, that I would disarm myself and surrender completely. His fingers also attacked my lower body. My cries grew louder and louder. At first, I was afraid someone would hear, so I suppressed myself, not daring to cry out too loudly. But I felt a tightness in my chest, and my breathing became labored. I needed to shout to breathe properly, so I cried out loudly. He was kneading my chest and sucking my nipples. Gradually, my legs spread wider and wider. I felt an emptiness down there. I cried out loudly, forgetting my previous reluctance to kiss any man other than my husband, and started kissing him willingly. He got up, facing me down below, and straddled me, stirring his tongue around my genitals. I felt his weight on me, making it hard to breathe. He patiently kissed my genitals, and I felt a strange pleasure. I cried out loudly, feeling his hard thing poking at my face. Just as I was lost in my own cries, his thing suddenly went into my mouth. I closed my eyes, took it in, sucked, and licked it, completely forgetting myself, losing myself… “Is it good?” he asked. He climbed over and sat up, leaning against the headboard, asking me to give him a blowjob. I was a little embarrassed. He said, “It’s okay. Look how good I made you feel. Now it’s your turn to serve me.” He then leaned against the headboard and waited for me. I looked at his erect penis, with a bulging vein, the veins clearly visible, glistening with my saliva. “Look, it’s saluting you,” he joked. “Hmph, aren’t you ashamed? You’re all wet,” I teased him lewdly. I picked up his thing, first wiping the opening with my hand, then smearing it on his leg. See, some fluid's already seeping out. I continued teasing him, then put it in my mouth, gently biting it with my teeth and licking it lightly with my tongue. I kept it in my mouth and then spat it out, and he groaned happily, telling me to suck harder. I blew harder, feeling his penis swell and harden in my mouth. "You're leaking," I spat it out, teasing it. "Little darling, you dare laugh at me?" He grabbed me, pressing my head against his penis. I put it in my mouth again, feeling a little liquid flowing in, a salty, slightly astringent taste. I blew harder and more intently, letting out soft moans, glancing sideways at him to arouse him. He couldn't hold back any longer, lunging at me fiercely, pinning me down, spreading my legs, and roughly thrusting into me. I cried out loudly, expressing my pleasure. I spread my legs as wide as I could, welcoming his repeated, forceful thrusts. I felt no aversion to his roughness, nor any pain. Amidst my moans, I felt like I was adrift at sea, slowly drifting towards the depths amidst surging waves… Afterwards, I lay on his chest, feeling a little regretful, yet also a little happy. He gently smelled my hair, his fingers constantly playing with my clitoris, cuddling with me tenderly. I asked him if he would come again, and he said he would. I told him he had hurt me, and he asked where it hurt. I was too embarrassed to say anything, so he lit a cigarette and gave me that wicked grin again: "Did I hurt your breasts? I like women like you, newlyweds. I really like your nipples, they're a bit big, and they feel great to squeeze. Your breasts aren't big, but they're nice, just the right size to hold in one hand, everything's under control." He then made a gesture of grabbing my breast and sucked on my nipple. That night we did it twice more, sometimes missionary, sometimes woman on top, and sometimes with me on my stomach and him entering from behind. But I didn't feel the same way as the first time. The first time I truly orgasmed, but the later times were more about him releasing his pent-up desire while I passively accepted it, completely lacking the passion of the first time. After we finished, looking at his satisfied expression, I lay on his chest, closed my eyes, and for some reason, suddenly thought of my husband. I felt very sorry for him, and a little like crying. I woke up in the morning before he was awake. I saw it was almost 8 o'clock, so I quickly woke him up. When he saw my body, he wanted it again and pressed himself against me, kissing me... We didn't get out of bed until 9 o'clock. I took him to the train station and watched him go home. The train left, and he was very reluctant to leave me. I was also a little reluctant to leave him, but I also had a feeling that I wanted him to leave quickly. Watching him go, I wondered: What is this man to me? He got my body, but what did I get?

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