Winning over a beautiful writer

(Part 1)

—1—

On April 30, 2004, that night, Hu Zi and I were surfing the internet at "Blue Angel."

"Blue Angel" was an internet cafe hidden in a secluded alley, where many beautiful girls usually chatted on QQ. So, even though Hu Zi and I were almost forty, we didn't go home and preferred to hang out here.

Our strategy was: first, find an attractive girl; second, Hu Zi would peek around and find out her ID; third, find a computer, go on QQ, lock onto the "prey," and then relentlessly pester her until she added us as a friend.

As for what happened next, well, my "masterful banter" combined with Hu Zi's "masterful chatting"—a two-pronged approach—how could the other girl not be "dazed"? Finally, we agreed on a place for a late-night snack, then slipped away through the back door under the cover of darkness, and when we met, we pretended to be surprised—"Wow! I didn't expect you to be so beautiful!"

Thus, the girl's vanity was greatly satisfied, and she developed a good first impression of us.

Generally, after finishing a dozen beers and a plate of stir-fried rice noodles, when I suggest a "threesome," most of the girls remain silent with shyness.

To be honest, sometimes I feel quite ashamed and guilty. How immoral! How unkind! But once I'm immersed in passionate sex, I forget even my own name, and that pitiful sense of morality vanishes into thin air with the intense piston-like movements, disappearing without a trace.

Speaking of April 30th, that night "Blue Angel" was deserted; the only three or so people there were just silly old men with gleaming green eyes. Beard and I were greatly disappointed. But adhering to the principle of "since we're here, let's make the best of it," we still shared a computer and went online to "hunt."

However, our luck was bad. On the QQ panel, a dozen or so girls were all looking dejected. No wonder, tomorrow's the May Day holiday, everyone with a bit of looks is already taken, who has time to waste online with us!

Hu Zi suggested going to a chat room, and I thought, since I'm bored anyway, might as well try my luck. So Hu Zi took the lead, rushed into Sina, gave a bunch of pointers, and stumbled into "City Moods" - "Guangzhou Bar". Damn it! It was a complete mess, with some guy who called himself "I don't have a dick, who's afraid of me?" spamming the chat.

Looking to the left, there was a long, stinky list filled with all sorts of names.

I noticed one called "Beautiful Writer," her ID surrounded by symbols, very eye-catching.

I chuckled, grabbed the mouse, and clicked on her.

I went straight to the point: Writer, wanna have sex?

Beard chuckled, "You're fucking too direct!"

I said, "Women like this are used to being pretentious. If you try to be sarcastic, she'll definitely dislike you. Better to be rough."

Sure enough, that jerk flew over and said: "Who are you? "

Beard was immediately full of admiration for me, "You're amazing! Come back! Come back!"

I thought for a moment and typed: "To tell you the truth, I am the famously handsome and charming Zhou Botong..."

The other party: "Stop being so cheeky! Who are you? Do we know each other?"

I typed: "Okay, I'll tell you, I'm actually an actor."

The other party: "..."

I typed again: "The night is long, and I can't sleep. Would you like to have sex, miss?"

The other party: "Don't try to play Stephen Chow with me, that's outdated."

Undeterred, I pressed on: "Who's fashionable now? Tell me, miss."

The other party: "How about Wong Kar-wai? Are you up to it?"

I was overjoyed and nudged Beard in the ribcage, "Hey, it's your turn! Wong Kar-wai, your forte!"

Beard perked up and immediately typed furiously: "Every day you have the chance to brush past someone. You may know nothing about them, but maybe one day they might become your friend or confidant. I'm a tough guy, my name is Beard, nickname Hu Gan San."

The other party: "Chungking Express," which he knew by heart.

Beard typed: "The 30th, April 30th. One minute before 11 pm on April 30th, 2004, you and I met online. Because of you, I will remember this minute. From now on, we are friends for one minute. This is a fact, you can't change it, because it's already in the past..."

The other party: "Days of Being Wild."

Beard scratched his head and typed again: "Every night, you have the chance to see many strange people online, like here, I met a girl like you. I really want to tell you that some things can't be resolved online, either talk about them face to face, or figure them out more deeply..."

But after pressing enter, the other party remained silent for a long time.

Beard was getting impatient. "Ah Fei, we're not going to waste our time, are we?"

I sneered. "Based on my years of experience, this brief silence is a normal prelude to taking the bait."

Before I finished speaking, a line of text flashed on the screen: Want to know more about me? Go check out my homepage, I'm waiting for you here.

A URL with a link followed immediately.

Beard clicked it casually, and the browser opened a new window.

Damn, it was Flashy, so it loaded slowly. It took ages to see the homepage name: "Fallen Angel." I said, "Beard, your shot just now hit the girl's weak spot!" Beard was smug. "Damn, trying to play Wong Kar-wai with me? That's just asking for trouble!" He

then clicked on it. There were several navigation bars: "Latest Articles," "Portfolio," "Guestbook," and "About Me."

Without even thinking, Beard clicked on "About Me" first, highlighting a few lines of small text.

Beard and I were both stunned after reading it.

"So it's her!" Beard said.

"I really did meet the legendary beautiful writer!"

Beard asked, "Shall we continue?"

I said, "Of course! What's a barefoot person afraid of wearing shoes? Besides, this is a rare opportunity!"

Beard nodded, "That's right, beautiful women are common, but beautiful writers are not."

I gritted my teeth, "So we have to give her a good thrashing!"

Beard said, "Actually, she's not a good person either. Haven't you heard? She dared to post nude photos online, making her extremely popular—let me see if there's anything here..." Beard searched as he spoke, "Hey, there really is! Look!"

It turned out there was a link below those few lines of small text. After clicking it, a set of pictures appeared.

Beard and I stared intently...

Beard muttered to himself, "It's a pity we can't see her face."

I said, "But she has a good figure, fair skin, and is very manipulable!"

Indeed, although the woman in the pictures had her face blurred, everything below her neck was clearly visible. Some of the pictures were close-ups, showing her breasts, buttocks, and the "Y" shape below her navel. Her breasts were large and full, her nipples plump; her buttocks were full, round and perky; and between her legs was a thick tuft of pubic hair! Dark, thick, and glistening.

I swallowed hard. "Beard," I said, "I bet you, this chick is a slut! Look at that pubic hair… damn, it's like a wolf's horn, the kind that never stops getting aroused!"

"What are we waiting for? Let's attack!"

I rubbed my hands together excitedly. "Let me go! I'll go first, you cover me!"

—2—

I won't copy the chat logs from that night here—in short, I successfully got the "beautiful writer's" phone number and address. When Beard and I walked out of "Blue Angel," a refreshing breeze greeted us, making us feel invigorated.

Beard said, "It looks like it's going to rain."

I said, "That's good, we'll have to do some physical work later, so it'll save us from getting all sweaty."

Then I called the "beautiful writer."

The phone rang for quite a while before someone answered, "Hello?" The voice was slightly hoarse, yet magnetic. Damn, I love that tone.

I tried to use a deep male voice, "Hello, it's me."

The other person chuckled, "Sorry, I was taking a shower, so I was late."

I said, "Really? I thought we'd have a chance to take a bath together!"

The other person playfully scolded, "You're so annoying!"

Oh dear, I can't stand women being coquettish, especially such a charmingly coquettish one. My heart immediately fluttered, and my little brother started to stir. I asked, "Are you alone?"

The other person said, "Of course."

I laughed, "So, including me, it's just the two of us?"

The other person asked curiously, "What do you mean?"

I coughed, "I mean, would you be interested in a threesome?"

The other person hesitated for a moment, "That...that's not quite right..."

I said, "Actually, it's always been just the two of us. The one who was talking to you about Stephen Chow is me, and the one who was talking to you about Wong Kar-wai is my buddy, nicknamed 'Beard,' a tough guy and handsome too."

The other person's tone was slightly displeased, "Oh, so you two are partners. " "You schemed against me! Forget it, let's reschedule for another day."

I quickly explained, "Please don't misunderstand! Think about it, we didn't even know who you were before, so how could we say we conspired to scheme against you? Besides... and..." My mind raced, quickly thinking of an excuse, "Besides... a woman like you, making me happy and sad all by myself, that's such a luxury! Such a waste of resources! Such a disservice to society, such a disservice to us, the flowers of our motherland, such a hardship for our fragile hearts..." The

other person laughed, "I didn't expect you to be able to recite my articles."

I felt ashamed! Fortunately, I hadn't been idle earlier; I had read a few essays by this "beautiful writer," and vaguely remembered some fragments. Now, using them to ramble on, it turned out to be a lucky coincidence.

So I continued my persuasion, “There are still a dozen minutes until May Day—let’s get together and spend an unforgettable Labor Day! If you refuse, what am I supposed to do with my lustful body and love-craving heart? I believe you are a loving woman, a woman who has transcended vulgar tastes, a pure woman, a…”

The other party interrupted my rambling, “Stop joking! If you’re coming, hurry up and be there before midnight, or you’ll be late.”

With that, she hung up the phone decisively.

I glanced at Beard, who was staring at me expectantly, “Well?”

I deliberately shrugged, feigning helplessness.

Beard was extremely dejected, “Damn it! The cooked duck flew away!”

I laughed, “You’d better hurry up and call a taxi! She’s already cleaned up and is waiting for us!”

…

The above events occurred before midnight Beijing time on April 30, 2004. Given that the “beautiful writer” mentioned in this article is a public figure, I am not comfortable using her real name in the article. After much consideration, I've decided to use the third person—that is, "she"—as far as my astute readers will know who she is :)

—3—

As soon as I got off the bus, a bolt of lightning struck, illuminating the sign for "So-and-so College" with a "snap."

Then a clap of thunder boomed overhead, making the raindrops pelt down. I yelled, "Run!" and sprinted towards the school!

But the downpour still caught up with me...

By the time Hu Zi and I found the place, we were both soaked to the bone. I was panting heavily as I rang the doorbell. "Who is it?" the voice on the phone asked.

"It's me!"

Before I could finish speaking, the door opened. A shapely silhouette appeared against the backlight.

The silhouette said, "Come in quickly."

And so, on this rainy night, I had the great privilege of visiting the "beautiful writer's" boudoir.

As she introduced herself, she taught at a university in Guangzhou and lived in a single faculty apartment allocated by the school. The apartment wasn't big, maybe thirty square meters at most, just enough for a double bed, a computer desk, a wardrobe, and a bookshelf.

There was a small door at the back, which I guessed served as both a bathroom and toilet. Several abstract paintings were pasted on the walls; if I remembered correctly, they were Kandinsky's scribbles. I also smelled a very strong and provocative feminine scent, permeating the room and intoxicating me.

I stood in the doorway taking off my shoes. "This damn weather, it just started raining like that."

She closed and locked the door. "You're all soaked, aren't you? But I don't have any clothes for you to change into."

I said, "It's okay, we'll have to take them off anyway, haha..."

She asked, "Are you Afei?"

I said, "Correct, ten points for you."

Then I straightened up and looked her over. She appeared to be around twenty-five or twenty-six years old, with long, soft hair. She wore a black lace-trimmed nightgown, a rather form-fitting style that accentuated her slender waist and prominent breasts, almost bursting out. Her eyes were narrow and curved, always seeming to be smiling; her nose was small, and her lips full and fleshy. Her face shape was somewhere between an "oval" and an "apple."

In short, while she wasn't exactly a beauty, she was certainly not unattractive, definitely better than Wei Huijiu Dan and Mu Zimei—a fact that pleased me greatly.

She stood there, smiling and arms crossed, "Want to take a shower first?"

I turned to her, "Beard, you go first, I'll set the mood for everyone here."

Beard said, "Sure, I'll take care of it then."

With that, Beard quickly took off his clothes—in the blink of an eye, he was only wearing a pair of red "bullet head" brand briefs.

I said to her, "Look, she's got a model's figure! What do you think? Pretty pleasing to the eye, right?"

Beard feigned shyness, "What are you saying? You're making me feel so embarrassed."

She giggled beside me, "You two are such a pair!"

I moved closer to her, "That's right, we do have some treasures, not many, one each."

She stared at me, her eyes flirtatious, even a little lewd, "Really? Are they big?"

I frankly told her, "You'll know once you touch them."

At that moment, Beard dashed towards the bathroom like a rabbit, "You two are disgusting! I can't stand it anymore..."

She laughed again, revealing two rows of pearly white teeth and two "Xu Qing-style" dimples. Oh my god! She was so alluring at that moment!

I've always believed that a woman can be not beautiful, but she cannot be not seductive. Seductive is flirtatious, flirtatious is lewd, lewd is wanton, wanton is skilled in bed, is able to make a man feel like he's in heaven.

I said, "Take off your clothes, let's go to bed and get to know each other."

She nodded, "Okay."

—4—

Next, I'm going to try a different narrative style—because during the writing of this article, I received an email from her titled "Three People, One Bed," in which she recounted the story of that night in her own words. After reading it, I called her and said I was also writing, but not as delicately as hers.

She said, "Women focus on feelings, men focus on the process, so it's normal for them to write differently. If you're interested, you might try combining the two styles; it might create something new." I said, "You're a very creative girl, okay, I'll give it a try."

So I tried it.

Here are the results—

her words:

...People say "a rainy night is sentimental," but I think the word "sentimental" must be missing the word "desire."

That night it was raining heavily, and my desire was more intense than usual.

I think this wasn't just because of the weather, but also because of the people. The young man named "Afei" was more handsome than I had imagined, especially when he took off his shirt; his pectoral muscles trembled exaggeratedly, and my heart

skipped a beat with excitement.

I must admit I'm a lustful woman. Even seeing a "muscular" or "handsome" man on the street makes me unconsciously sexually aroused, let alone him standing right in front of me, and specifically for that purpose.

He then pulled down his pants, along with his underwear. And so I saw his penis, which was truly "erect like a raging frog."

I like men with "big guys," although some articles say that a man's size has nothing to do with the quality of sex life, I don't really believe that. How could that be? If it's not long enough, it won't go deep enough, and the impact won't be as strong; if it's not thick enough, it won't be tight enough, and the pleasure of friction will be less.

So I thank God! He gave me a man who is excellent both top and bottom on this holiday.

Oh, and there's another one, he's making a splashing sound in my bathroom—he's not as handsome as Ah Fei, but his little mustache is really sexy. I've heard that men with beards are mostly "womanizers," I wonder if that's true?

Ah Fei said: It's your turn to take your clothes off. I said, "Don't rush, sometimes half-covering is more alluring than not covering at all." Afei said, "That makes sense, then take off half and leave half!" I asked, "Which half do you want me to take off?" Afei thought for a moment and said, "Take off the top first, the bottom will come sooner or later anyway. "

Listening to Afei talk was very pleasant. He's always so witty and outspoken.

Two hours ago, he asked me online, "Want to have sex?"

I immediately admired him. To be honest, I hate hypocritical and pretentious men.

They clearly want to have sex with you, but they put on a hypocritical face, which is boring.

I like Afei's directness because he can make you feel good. What I mean is, if you're going to do it, do it to the fullest; if it's not satisfying, you might as well just go to sleep. So I'm not against "threesomes," although I've never tried it before, but two men sandwiching one woman…

just thinking about it makes me blush and excited, let alone experiencing it firsthand.

I climbed onto the bed like a mother cat, then knelt on the mattress and slowly took off my pajamas. I wasn't very confident about my looks, but I was proud of my body. I'm from Chongqing, and Sichuan girls' skin is legendary, and mine is exceptionally fair and smooth.

One online friend was particularly obsessed with my skin, saying he sometimes really wanted to steam me and eat me! His words terrified me, so I stopped contacting him.

...

Okay, now it's my turn to speak—

the rain keeps falling.

The raindrops pattered against the window, like popping beans, quite a lively sound.

I lay on the soft bed, my long penis erect, admiring the "beautiful writer" undressing. Actually, there wasn't much to "undress" about; those little pajamas had at most two buttons, and she easily "opened her chest."

Then I saw two beautiful "boobs." The "boobs" were plump and fair, the "boobs" full and round, the "breast-like" type. I also noticed that her areolas were large, perfectly round, and pale pink.

I said, "Your breasts look a lot like Yang Simin's."

She asked, "Who's Yang Simin?"

I explained, "She's a Taiwanese actress who starred in Category III films, played Pan Jinlian, and is known as having the most beautiful breasts in Asia."

She shook her head, "I rarely watch Taiwanese films."

I laughed, "Then you must like European films, the very unrestrained kind."

She said, "You guessed right, it really is."

After saying that, she gracefully gathered her long hair, "Want me to give you a demonstration?"

I immediately agreed, "Sure! Sure!"

She smiled with her lips pursed, reached out, and grasped my penis.

She said, "So hard!"

I corrected her, "It's firm."

She hummed in agreement, glancing at me with her eyes, while slowly creeping forward...

I knew what she wanted to do, so I quickly gathered my breath and straightened my penis.

She smiled seductively at me again, her two dimples deepening as a pink, moist tongue emerged and gently licked the head of my penis. I exaggeratedly shuddered (actually, I didn't react that much), and even deliberately let out a "whoosh."

So she got smug, opened her mouth, and took the entire glans into her warm mouth, sucking on it like a baby nursing.

Her hands weren't idle either; one quickly stroked me, the other played with my testicles.

The most amazing thing was—during this whole process, she kept staring at me seductively, occasionally throwing me a glance—that was incredibly satisfying! You know, most Chinese women are conservative; even if they're willing to give you oral sex, it's usually a silent, unspoken exchange with the "master."

So, this "beautiful writer" is truly exceptional; she's different. Her "seductiveness" is ingrained—in that respect, she's really like a European film heroine.

Unfortunately, that bearded guy spoiled the mood—just as I was getting into it, he darted out like a rabbit, screaming, "Wow! You guys are all having fun!"

I glared at him fiercely, "Don't be so dramatic! Can't you see we're busy?"

She, on the other hand, acted quite composed—calmly spitting out her drink, wiping the drool from her mouth, then sitting up, "Come on, let's play together."

Bearded grinned, "Okay!" He made a face at me, "Look at her! So considerate! I like this kind of person."

Bearded said as he got into bed. He had a white towel tied around his waist to cover himself, but he didn't need it now, so he pulled it off, revealing a thing that was pointed in the front and thick in the back—this kind of thing was nicknamed "Dragon Drill," and it was incredibly powerful.

I coughed once. "Alright! Now listen to my command!"

Hu Zi agreed. "Okay."

I said, "I'll attack the bottom, you attack the top. Let's divide the work and cooperate, no chaotic fighting."

Hu Zi was unwilling. "Why should you be in charge of the bottom?"

I sat up abruptly. "Damn it! There should be a main attack force, right?"

Hu Zi muttered, "I'm also a spearhead company!"

I was about to scold him when suddenly a soft hand reached out and covered my mouth.

She laughed, "What do you two want to do? Go argue outside!"

Beard immediately shook his head, "No! It's raining outside."

She said, "Good to know." Then she let go of his hand, "Can you listen to me?"

It seems that some things really do require the majority to obey the minority—take this matter for example, both men are fucking fond of lewd things, and neither is willing to show "Lei Feng spirit," so it is very easy to create a passive situation of "too many monks, too little water to drink."

Fortunately, the "beautiful writer" dared to stand up—no, she should lie down and settle things—I saw her lying on the bed, her butt facing me, her mouth facing Beard, wasn't this obviously letting us attack from both sides?

Well then, top and bottom, front and back.

Beard took the initiative first—it seems that this guy was already furious, and he didn't show any mercy to the lady, sticking his "poisonous dragon drill" into her mouth. She didn't hesitate either, swallowing half of it in one gulp, and then sucking and making some "squeak squeak squeak" sounds. The sound was like ants, drilling into my ear canal, making me itchy down there.

So I pounced on her and pulled down her pajama pants.

Under the soft glow of the fluorescent light, a round, full buttock was revealed, its white skin gleaming dazzlingly.

I must admit, it was a nice buttock, quite substantial, reminiscent of a large chunk of solidified fat.

I touched it; it felt slightly cool, like touching a piece of soft jade.

I also saw a dark red anus, with delicate folds, exquisitely nestled within the fleshy crevice, twitching slightly, as if something might well spill out at any moment. Further down was a smooth, plump "vagina"—I guessed she had shaved it clean beforehand, otherwise it couldn't have been so clean and aesthetically pleasing. It was like a

fresh, lively oyster, a plump, smooth peach.

At that moment, I was so enamored! My mouth was watering! I wobbled and leaned my head closer, and in a daze, I stuck out my tongue—to put it bluntly—like a dog licking a bowl, from top to bottom, inside and out, licking and scraping incessantly, juice and all. It was exactly like that:

sucking, licking, biting, and swallowing, a soul-stirring experience

upon entry. Alright, alright… I won't get sentimental here. Let the "beautiful writer" share her personal experience.

But I'd like to add—

her vaginal fluid was very sour, a bit like lemon juice.

…

She:

These are two young men, very talkative, very healthy, and very cute. I like them. I only regret that I don't have any students like them.

If I did, what would I do? Seduce them? Sleep with them? Teach them how to satisfy a greedy woman? I think I could do it.

How turbulent and restless this world is! I just want to enjoy myself.

To enjoy myself, I must abandon my shame and lie on the bed like a wagging-tail bitch.

At this moment, I seemed to see another version of myself, her eyes wet and mournful, saying in a groaning voice: Ah, I am such a cheap woman.

The one called "Beard" knelt before me, his penis facing me. His penis was peculiarly shaped, like an awl. I carefully opened my mouth, letting it pierce in. When I licked it with my tongue and sucked on it with my mouth, I could feel its powerful vibrations. I knew it was happy, and its happiness infected me, making me cling to it even more passionately, as if clinging to its soul. If it had a soul, then.

For the first time in my life, I discovered how passionate I was about oral sex…

Just as I was busy showing off my verbal skills, a wave of pleasure suddenly surged from behind. I was very familiar with this pleasure, because men were all fascinated by my beautiful genitals. It seemed young Ah Fei was no exception. Like other men, he first enjoyed me by tasting. His tongue was wild and unrestrained, like a brush, scrubbing me thoroughly…

I knew I was wet; heaven knows why I was so wet, even without a man touching me, I was often soaking wet.

Oh… the pleasure mutated at an incredible speed. Finally, it became a beast, rampaging through my body.

I started to thrust my hips. Men who have been with me know—thrusting my hips is my signal, meaning I can't wait any longer, I want to be fucked. Or to put it another way: I needed another male organ to satisfy my sexual desire.

But Ah Fei didn't understand my intentions; he continued licking incessantly. His tongue was already inside, wriggling and teasing me. I couldn't hold back any longer.

I spat out my engorged penis, turned around, and yelled: Ah Fei! Put it in, with your thing.

Ah Fei poked his face out from behind me. I saw his mouth and chin were covered in glistening liquid. He looked both ridiculous and adorable. I asked him: Don't you want to fuck me?

He immediately straightened his back and rubbed my vulva with something hard and hot. I was getting impatient, so I freed one hand and reached over to grab it.

I said: Don't move!

Then I thrust my hips back. The first time it didn't go in; it slipped away. The second time, however, it went in perfectly; I thought I heard a "plop." I let go, looked at his flushed face, and said: Harder! I want you.

Ah Fei bit his lower lip, cupped my buttocks, and thrust into me three times in quick succession. I shuddered three times in a row. It was great! It felt amazing. He was a young man after all, with the recklessness and impact of a wild beast. Plus, he was long and hard, hitting that one spot on my body—I've always suspected my G-spot is hidden deep inside me, because only deep penetration positions give me intense pleasure.

So, I usually prefer the "riding position," which allows me to take the initiative and let the man thrust into that spot.

However, most men can't handle it, often collapsing after just a few or a dozen thrusts.

Once, I met a "gentle middle-aged man" online. He was humorous and witty, which attracted me, so I asked him out.

At first, he performed well, thrusting slowly and methodically. But as soon as I mounted him, he got nervous, and after two or three thrusts, he ejaculated.

Afterwards, he told me regretfully, "I'm not used to women being on top." I coldly replied: "Sorry, I'm the same as you, I'm not used to being dominated."

Of course, the above passage about memories was added by me while writing. Actually, when I was being brutally fucked by Afei, I felt like even the blood in the body of a hungry tiger pouncing on its prey wasn't boiling with such joy.

I wouldn't think about anything else!

I turned my face towards Hu Zi with difficulty: "Fuck me too!"

Then I opened my mouth wide.

...May Day, I dealt with the beautiful writer (Part 2, The End)

-5-

I lasted about fifteen minutes for the first time, and then ejaculated in her slippery, narrow, and moist pussy.

This broke my record of nearly two years - the shortest I've lasted in the past two years was half an hour.

It's all this woman's fault, she's too slutty, too wild. Sometimes I simply can't tell - am I fucking her? Or is she fucking me?

Even if I hover still, she doesn't care, her big ass keeps arching over me, fierce and aggressive.

Also, I have to admit she has a "good pussy". Logically, she should have been used countless times, yet she showed no wear or looseness whatsoever. On the contrary, she was incredibly tight and supple. Furthermore, she was very wet—a point I've already mentioned above, but I must emphasize again here—she was very wet and viscous, like a lubricant-producing machine, constantly secreting and soaking into you.

So, I had a rather immoral idea—she should become a prostitute. With such good looks, it would be such a waste if she didn't! It would be a huge loss for all the "prostitutes" in the world.

After I ejaculated, I slid out and sat panting to the side, watching her and Hu Zi's "endurance battle of blowjobs." I knew Hu Zi's stamina very well; he had been given the title of "Iron Airplane" by the sauna girls, truly a man who could not get an erection no matter how long he tried. The poor "beautiful writer" used all her strength, but all she got in return were a few moans and groans. It was just like: "

Playing the jade flute, each

note a sob ,

but the lover is as hard as iron,

showing no intention of relieving himself.

" At that moment, the sudden rain stopped. Without the noise of the raindrops, the sounds in the room became even more thrilling. First, there were the panting sounds, both man and woman, heavy, rapid, and soul-stirring; then came her oral sex sounds, sometimes smacking, sometimes slurping, sometimes whimpering, all "like an old lady sitting on a bench—meticulous and methodical," full of lewdness.

After describing the sound, let's depict the image, starting with a "close-up"—the camera pulls back from a swaying, glistening drop of saliva, revealing it's coming from the "beautiful writer's" mouth.

The "writer's" cheeks puff out and deflate as she diligently sucks on something. Next, we see flushed cheeks, dazed eyes, and a few strands of wet hair clinging to her sweat-drenched forehead… The camera continues to pull back, becoming a "wide shot"—the bearded man, head held high towards the ceiling, eyes tightly shut, mouth wide open, throat heaving, hands on hips, in a heroic pose; the woman, limbs on the bed, agile body, long hair disheveled, head swaying, breathing rapidly.

I patted the "writer's" bottom, "Go for it! You can't get him with your mouth!"

She glanced at me knowingly and winked.

Beard, his voice hoarse, yelled, "You little bastard, you betrayed me!"

I sneered, "You've been holding it in for so long, aren't you afraid of getting yourself into trouble?"

So, at my urging and guidance, her hands joined the "battle." I suddenly noticed how beautiful her hands were—long, slender fingers, delicately manicured nails, and painted with black nail polish. One hand gripped my penis tightly, rapidly stroking it; the other cupped my scrotum, kneading and swirling it. And her mouth, still holding the glans, sucked even more rapidly…

Five minutes later, Beard was panting heavily.

I cheered her on, "Faster! Give it your all!"

Beard roared, "Oh! Fuck!"

Before the word "fuck" even finished, Beard's buttocks suddenly thrust forward! His penis disappeared three-quarters of the way in an instant—it was all inside the "beautiful writer's" mouth, I reckon it was already stuck in her throat!

Then Beard started trembling all over, wave after wave, like he had malaria.

I quickly patted the "beautiful writer's" back—afraid she'd choke.

She frowned in pain, making gurgling sounds in her throat.

Thankfully… nothing serious happened, she swallowed it all.

Beard and I both breathed a sigh of relief.

But she wouldn't let go of Beard's penis until it became a soft, limp snake… only then did she reluctantly release it, her cheeks still bulging, as if she still had a mouthful, unwilling to swallow.

I joked, "Spit it out, we have plenty of that stuff!"

She gently shook her head, her eyes fixed on Beard, then suddenly stretched out two snow-white arms, hooked them around Beard's neck, and pulled him right in front of her…

Holy crap! She actually kissed him!

Beard probably didn't react in time, instinctively opening his mouth, and she gave him a big gulp! “Let you have a taste!” She immediately pushed Hu Zi away, shrank back, snuggled into my arms, and giggled, “How does it taste?”

Hu Zi didn’t even have time to say anything! His body was like it had springs in it, he jumped up and almost sprinted into the bathroom, and then I heard a loud “waaaah” sound coming from inside.

I was still shaken. "You were too...too mischievous!"

She snorted and said, "Who told him to torment me like that? I held it in for so long, my gums were aching."

I said, "You don't know, he's a famous 'iron plane,' even professionals can't handle him. Once, they tried blowing and hitting him for over two hours, and he still couldn't come. So, you're already quite capable of taking him down."

She laughed and asked, "What about you? Why can't you?"

I glared at her. "Who said I can't? Weren't you satisfied just now?"

She said, "I wasn't satisfied yet!"

Then she turned around and looked at me seductively. "Tell me, am I too lewd?"

I nodded honestly. "Yeah, you are lewd, but I like it."

She said, "Even if you don't like it, there's nothing I can do." "It's innate. I wrote an article titled 'Drag me into the shadows and rape me,' and another one titled 'I want to be a complete whore for everyone.' I posted the articles online, and many people said I was a bit perverted after reading them."

At this moment, Beard finally finished vomiting, returned dejectedly, and shouted upon hearing this, "You're not just a bit perverted, you're extremely perverted! Completely perverted!"

She remained calm and composed, "That's right, that's how I am. If you can't handle it, then don't play."

Beard jumped onto the bed, "I can't handle it? Haha! What a joke! Didn't you want to play rape? Watch how I rape you later!"

I quickly smoothed things over, "Okay, okay! Now I declare the first round of battle over, let's rest for a while. Come on, lie down, I'll tell you a joke."

So the three of us were all "lying down." The "beautiful writer" slept in the middle, and Beard and I were on either side. Beard seemed a little resentful, turning his back to us, only to be kicked by her. "Hey! You wouldn't be so petty, would you? I just fed you a bite, and it was your own stuff."

Beard turned 180 degrees. "You're the petty one—I just blew on it a little longer, and it was something you liked."

She laughed. "Okay, we're even, let's start over. Ah Fei, weren't you going to tell a joke? Hurry up and tell one."

I thought for a moment. "Alright, I'll tell you one. Once upon a time, there was a thief, not very educated, who only knew the word 'bank.' One day, he found a bank and rushed in to rob it, but to his surprise, the safe was empty, filled only with jelly. In a fit of anger, the thief ate it all." "Okay. The next day, the newspaper had a headline saying that the city's sperm bank had been robbed yesterday, and the sperm had been completely stolen..."

She laughed heartily, "I get it, you're talking about Beard... Beard, were you the thief? How did it taste?"

Beard spat, "That's an old, tired joke, so boring."

She said, "Then tell me a new one, but it has to be funny."

Beard grumbled for a while, "New jokes? I have plenty here... but I need to filter them. Why don't you go first, and I'll go after you're done?"

She laughed, "You're so cheeky... Okay, I'll go first. There are three people, two men and one woman, sleeping together. The woman sleeps in the middle, and the men sleep on either side, just like we are now."

I interjected, "Your joke is quite fitting."

She gently punched me. "Don't interrupt! The next morning, when everyone woke up, the woman, beaming, said, 'You know what? Last night, I had a really weird dream!' The man on the left said, 'Come on, your dream isn't as weird as mine—I dreamt someone was giving me a handjob, all night long, and look, I'm still limp.' Hearing this, the man on the right yelled—'Oh my god! My dream is exactly the same as yours! Look, I'm still wet!' Then the two men asked the woman—'What did you dream about?'"

She deliberately left me in suspense, "You..." "Guess what that woman dreamed about?"

I shook my head. "I can't guess."

Beard shook his head too. "Who the hell knows! Just tell me!"

She revealed the answer, "As soon as the woman heard the two men talking, she understood what was going on. She said, very embarrassed, 'I'm sorry, I had a dream. I dreamed that I skied all night in the Alps!'"

Beard didn't react. "Skiing? What's wrong with skiing?"

She laughed and made a skiing motion. "Silly! Think about it, how do you ski? One hand, one pole, up and down..."

Beard chuckled. "Damn! Such a difficult idea, and you..." "I can think of that."

She said, "I heard it from someone else. Okay, it's your turn."

Beard scratched his head, "I really can't think of anything right now... How about this, I'll tell you one from when we were in school. That year we were seniors, and the school was having a graduation ceremony. A guy went up and recited a poem, saying: 'Freshman girls are like apples, sophomore girls are like oranges, junior girls are like pears.' Then a girl next to him asked very eagerly, 'What about us senior girls?' Haha, guess what the guy said?"

She asked, "What did he say?"

Beard burst out laughing, "Damn it, the guy answered very sincerely, 'Sister, please, senior girls...'" "Is life still fruit? Haha, isn't that funny?"

She didn't say anything, and after a long while, she said quietly, "It's not funny... It's really scary to think about. Even seniors aren't considered fruit anymore, so what about people like us? From body to soul, how old have we become?"

I comforted her, "Look at you, getting sentimental so easily, you really are a writer. Actually, you're not that old. What year were you in? '97 or '98?"

She whispered, "'97."

Her beard twitched, "Damn! The three of us graduated in the same year."

She sighed, "Sigh, six or seven years have passed in a flash, and I'm almost thirty..."

The room suddenly fell silent. Three people, one bed, all silent, as if they were all lost in thought.

I didn't know what they were thinking, but I thought of my first time, and of that woman named "Nina." "Silly boy, being happy and joyful together is more important than anything else, why be so serious?" Although she wasn't a writer, sometimes her words were more philosophical than a writer's. Because of this sentence, I will always remember this woman. If memories were a can of food, I hope this can would never expire.

In the silence, she was the first to sit up, turning over and getting out of bed. She went to the TV cabinet, fiddled with it for a while, and then a soft, ethereal piano melody filled the room. The melody was familiar, but I couldn't quite place where I'd heard it before.

She turned off the light and then drew back the curtains.

There was no moon tonight; the night was a deep blue.

The song began—oh—I knew it, it was "Scáthach Fair," the theme song from "The Graduate," and Sarah Brightman's new cover. The beautiful voice, like a white ribbon, wrapped tightly around my heart.

She returned to us, her body strikingly white against the deep blue.

She whispered, "Have you heard this saying? 'Either make love in silence, or become a pervert in silence.'" –6-

Please allow me to try the "cross-legged" style again.

I felt this approach was a bit like *Chungking Express*, with Takeshi Kaneshiro one minute, Tony Leung the next, Faye Wong the next, everyone rambling incoherently, getting more and more confused.

Luckily, I remained highly clear-headed. I knew I was merely telling a pornographic story. Such stories can lack many things, but they absolutely cannot lack the process. The process is the flesh—the flesh of the scene, or the flesh of the scene.

And a flesh scene can't be sung by one person, don't you think? So, let's give her

a round of applause— Sarah Brightman sang in heavenly hues, leading me into Eden. This night, there was rain, there was wind, there was one Eve, and two Adams. I smiled contentedly. I stretched out my hands, making a "skiing" motion. The "sled handles" in my hands quickly became hard, thick, long, and hot. I heard the "Adam" on my left say: Aren't you tired? I retorted: What do you mean? You want to fuck me, don't you? He said: You're even more direct than me. I said, Of course, I'm a whore who's available to everyone, and a whore doesn't need to be reserved. So I approached "Adam" on my own initiative. This "Adam" had a mustache and a "prick" (or "awl") on his hip. I straddled him and asked, "Do you like this position?" He said, "As long as it goes in, any position is fine." I said, "Okay." I turned to the other "Adam": "What about you? Do you agree?" He said, "No problem, you guys do it, I'll watch." I shook my head: "That won't do, we have to do it together." He said, "I want to join in too, but how?" Unless…unless… I deliberately asked him, "Unless what?" He chuckled mischievously: "Unless you're willing to anal sex." I whispered, "You're not me, how do you know I don't want to?" He was overjoyed: "Really? Okay…do you have any lubricant?" I said, "No, I never need that stuff." He was taken aback: "No? No way, it'll hurt a lot without lubricant!" I shrugged: "If you're afraid of pain, then forget it." He said, "Get lost! Try it if you don't believe me, just don't cry out in pain." Just then, a gust of wind blew in…the wind lifted the curtains. A cool, refreshing rain hung in the air. I took a deep breath, then knelt and spread my legs, letting the hard "cone" of Beard's penis press against me. I parted my labia and found them damp and slippery inside, like they were covered in a layer of moss. Suddenly, I remembered a man who had been with me many times. He said he loved my breasts the most, and then asked if I loved his genitals the most. I didn't feel anything then, so I wasn't sure and didn't know how to answer. But tonight, my feelings were particularly strong! I think I have the answer now, and that is indeed it. I love that thing, and I hate that it's not long enough to penetrate me. My body sank down, and the "cone" pierced into my body. Beard and I screamed at the same time: Ah! Beard, like a child, excitedly clenched his fists and pounded my hips. He yelled: Damn! You're fucking tight! I was excited too: Damn, you're fucking thick! Ah Fei, standing beside me, was extremely jealous: Hey, didn't we agree to do it together? I gasped for breath and said, "Don't rush, I'll get you into position..." I lowered my upper body, my full, sagging breasts pressed against his chest. Then my round, plump buttocks rose up, and my small, delicate anus opened wide; I could even feel the cool breeze trying to get inside. I asked Ah Fei, "Is this okay?"

Afei patted my butt: "Bend higher!

" I hummed in agreement and lowered my back a little more.

...

OK.

It was my turn to speak.

I felt like it was a bit like a "story chain" where I spoke and she spoke in turn. If I had known this would happen, I should have brought Hu Zi in too, and the three of us could have written together, which would have been more "comprehensive." And after we finished writing, we could have posted it online under the pen name "Three-Butt Party"—maybe it would have become popular. You know, anything is possible these days, I'm serious.

Seriously, I'm a very honest person, I love to tell the truth—for example, it's really troublesome to have sex with a woman without lubricant. Readers with a little knowledge of physiology and hygiene know very well that the anus, the passage we humans use to excrete feces, does not have a secretory function. Under normal circumstances, it is very dry and very narrow. If you try to force it, you can't get in. Take me for example, I knelt down behind the "beautiful writer" for a long time, sweating profusely, but it was just dragging on, and I had no chance at all.

So I got really angry and just used my "One-Finger Divine Skill," forcefully inserting it!

She screamed, "Ah!"

I laughed, "Didn't you say you weren't afraid of pain?"

She didn't speak, her anus kept contracting, gripping me tightly, and I could barely pull out.

I asked her, "Why are you so nervous?"

She said in a trembling voice, "It's burning inside... too dry."

I said, "Well, there's nothing I can do. Who told you not to prepare lubricant? How about we get some peanut oil? Is there any in the kitchen?"

She scolded, "Ugh! How can that be? This isn't cooking..."

At this moment, Hu Zi offered a suggestion from below, "Hey, she's very wet inside, can we connect a pipe to bring the water over?"

I laughed loudly, "You think this is the South-to-North Water Diversion Project? But... we can consider it..."

I "whoosh" pulled out my finger, turned it into a palm, and reached down. Then I heard Beard yell, "Damn it! What the hell are you doing touching my balls?"

I said, "Nothing, just wanted to get some grease off you."

Sure enough, Beard's scrotum was covered in sticky liquid. I figured it was a mixture of her vaginal

fluid , my earlier semen, and Beard's secretions... the formula was practically a "3-in-1" of Pantene shampoo—a bit disgusting, but in a moment of desperation, who cares? I smeared and poked, finally making some progress—at least it was smoother than before, and my fingers moved in and out with ease.

I was smug, "That's what they call 'nothing is impossible for a willing heart.' Come on, relax—"

She said, "Don't be too rough... I'll cooperate."

I hummed in agreement, assuming a "horse riding" position, my penis thrusting straight into her anus at a 45-degree angle. "Relax..." I told her again, then took a deep breath, pulled in my stomach, and thrust my hips forward. I felt my glans force its way through a narrow opening, squeezing into a supple tunnel. Oh, fucking good! And fucking tight! The sphincter muscles inside were like rubber bands, tightly wrapped around me, and with her contractions, the anus created a suction force, causing my penis to slowly wriggle forward...

She moaned, "Oh...oh...you're so thick..."

I said in a muffled voice, "Thick is what makes it fun!"

She said, "You're almost tearing me apart!"

I said, "You're almost squeezing me to bursting too!"

In the midst of our exchange, two-thirds of my penis had already been swallowed by her.

So I started trying to thrust.

She really knew how to cooperate—when I thrust, she tightened; when I thrust, she loosened. She seemed to have experience, unlike me—to my shame, I consider myself a "veteran of romance," but I've never tried this before; this night was like a young woman getting married—my first time.

So I had to quickly hand over the "voice"—this part was best left to the "beautiful writer" to say.

...

Inside me, there were two things commonly called "penis."

One was in my vagina, straight, strong, and unyielding.

The other was in my anus, rough and forceful, thrusting in and out repeatedly. It was like a cylindrical steel file, rubbing against my delicate sphincter muscles, giving me waves of burning sensation.

Actually, this wasn't my first time doing anal sex. My first time happened two years ago in the spring. At that time, I had a relatively stable boyfriend, a "returned overseas student" who liked to play unconventional games, such as "backdoor sex." I remember that time it was because I had my period and it wasn't convenient to have sex with him, so he asked me if I wanted to do anal sex, and I said why not?

In the end, neither of us was very happy. Firstly, because I was in pain and kept yelling, which disappointed him. Secondly, because we weren't coordinated well. The main responsibility was mine; I was too inexperienced. After that, we didn't try it again for a long time.

That autumn, I went on a trip to Zhuhai with him and stayed at a resort hotel. That night, he

took out an electric dildo from his purse, saying it was brought back from Japan and he wanted me to try it—I had never used anything like it before, so I was very curious and agreed with a smile.

He told me to take off my clothes, crawl on my stomach, and then he inserted the thing. At first, it wasn't anything special, just a little sore and swollen, but after the current was turned on, the feeling was different! It felt like countless tiny ants were biting and stinging me… making me unbearably itchy.

Just then, he started pouring "baby oil" into my anus.

Then he easily inserted it.

That time I tasted pleasure—although I was constipated for more than a week afterward, at the time, I truly entered a state of ecstasy.

I wrote an article about it, titled "My Anal Sexual Desire." After the article was posted online, it sparked controversy among many female friends—I once met one who said she had also had anal sex, but it wasn't as exaggerated as I described.

My advice to her was: First, to use a "two-pronged approach," meaning to perform intercourse and anal sex simultaneously. This is similar to mixed doubles, where both sides can complement each other, reducing discomfort in the anal canal. Second, to emphasize coordination and rhythm. The anal ring and anal canal walls are richly supplied with nerve endings, and moderate friction will inevitably bring pleasurable sensations—the key is "moderation." This "moderation" must be controlled by "tightness."

Enough rambling, let's get back to the point.

I must admit that not having prepared lubricant was my mistake, because an article titled "Anal Sex Guide" clearly states—"If you intend to enjoy a woman's anus, then no amount of lubricant will be enough..." But that night's events were sudden, and I was completely unprepared, both mentally and materially. Fortunately, my vaginal secretions were plentiful, which could be used as lubricant, and Ah Fei's continuous ejaculation (I suspect it was his first time, hence the lack of control) kept my anus moist and slippery.

So I began to enjoy it… Actually, all I needed to do was control the rise and fall of my hips—when I arched my back, Ah Fei penetrated deeply, long enough to reach my rectum, giving me a strong urge to defecate; when I sank down, his beard thrust upwards, filling my entire vagina.

The pleasure overlapped, like wave after wave…

I gradually increased the frequency…

Oh God! I orgasmed!

I yelled: Faster! Harder! Harder!

At that moment, I was completely disoriented, as if my body no longer belonged to me, only an empty shell floating in a cloud of clouds.

...

Actually, at that time, both Hu Zi and I were simultaneously "going berserk."

I had completely opened her anus, although it was still tight, but thrusting was no longer difficult—probably because I had briefly lost control and injected some more fluid inside. In short, the more I fucked, the more excited I became, the more I enjoyed it! Later, I even dared to pull out completely and then shove the whole thing back in—interestingly, when I pulled out, her anus would make a "pop" sound, like a fart, but thankfully there was no odor.

Hu Zi was even more ferocious! He grabbed her neck, his buttocks thrusting wildly upwards, making her stomach slam with loud "smacks."

The poor "beautiful writer" was left disheveled, sweating profusely, panting, and clutching the sheets tightly—I thought to myself, how could this go on! She'd probably die! I quickly called out to Beard, "Hey, take it easy! Don't hurt her!"

Beard was panting, "How are you? I'm about to come!"

I said, "I've been wanting to cum for

a while..." Beard shouted, "Then let's cum together!"

We both went all out again, fucking her wildly a few times, and almost simultaneously, I thrust into her deepest part—she screamed hysterically—Ah!!!

Then I ejaculated "thump thump thump"...

...

In summary, I summarized the battle:

First, Beard ejaculated once in the "beautiful writer's" mouth.

Second, I ejaculated once in the "beautiful writer's" anus.

Third, Beard and I each ejaculated once in the "beautiful writer's" vagina.

Note: And neither of us used a condom!

...

Afterwards, Beard asked me, "Hey, do you think she might be pregnant?"

I scratched my head, "I don't know."

Beard looked worried, "What if she is...what will we do then?"

I patted my chest, "A man should be willing to take responsibility!"

Beard shook his head, "It's not that I don't want to take responsibility—I mean, who will be the father if the child is born?"

I thought for a moment, "Your last time was pretty solid, so it's probably 80% your fault."

Beard protested, "Even if I'm 80%, you're still 20%! Why should I be solely responsible?"

I sighed, "Okay, count me in, I'll take 20%." "Child support."

Beard muttered, "That's more like it... Hey, I have an idea. If it's a son, we'll name him Hu Fei. What do you think?"

I was furious. "Damn it! Why are you in front and I'm in the back?"

Beard argued, "I'm supposed to be in front, and you're in the back!"

I was speechless. "Okay then... but our son's nickname has to be Snow Mountain Flying Fox. This time, I'm in front."

Beard grumbled, "Pah! You never seem to lose out!" -7-

Just like all porn movies end with ejaculation, this rambling "pornographic article" of mine will also end with "exhaustion." There's a song called "Let love end before sunrise," and besides, we didn't even have a love affair. To put it crudely, we just "did it" once.

Okay, if it's going to end, then I plan to end it on May 16th, 2004, which is yesterday. Actually, yesterday wasn't anything special; it was just another Sunday after the May Day holiday. I feel the word "Sunday" has a bit of a verb-like effect—since coming to Guangzhou, I've almost always done it "one day a week"—in our northern region, "日" means "to do.

" I thought of the "beautiful writer." I must admit, she's a pretty good "playmate," both wanton and able to be. So I stood on the balcony, overlooking the gray city in the twilight, and called her, "Hello? Is this the writer? Want some sex?"

She giggled, "It's you."

I said, "Let me tell you some good news first, my article—no, I should say our article—is very popular, already over seven thousand clicks and more than twenty pages of replies. But a lot of people are asking if you're that 'Bamboo Shadow Green Eyes'."

She was unhappy, "How could there be such a misunderstanding?"

I explained to her, "You two are both university teachers, and you've both posted nude photos online, so it's easy for people to get confused."

She said "Oh."

I said, "But what's most infuriating is that some people still think you're Mu Zimei."

Her voice immediately turned angry. "Pah! Then you should stand up and clarify things for me!"

I said, "Without your permission, I dare not reveal your real identity. I used the third person the whole time, 'beautiful writer,' haha."

She sighed, "Sigh! Do you think 'beautiful writer' is still as popular as it used to be? These days, saying someone is a 'beautiful writer' is like saying someone is a prostitute, it's almost like insulting them."

I disagreed, "It can't be that bad! Aren't there people in this world who are both talented and beautiful?"

She said, "There are, but not many, and they certainly aren't writers. Think about it, would a beautiful woman need to write?"

I complimented her, "You write quite well!"

She said, "I do like to write, but I'm not beautiful."

I took the opportunity to change the subject, "Whether you're beautiful or not, I like you anyway. How about it? Tonight, just the two of us, alone, you know?"

She didn't reply, and remained silent for a long time.

I panicked. "Hey! What are you thinking about? Say something!"

She finally whispered, "I'm sorry, I don't want to see you again."

I was stunned. "Why?"

She said, "You're the kind of man I like, and I'm afraid I'll fall in love with you."

I said with a smirk, "Then love me! After all, sex is love too."

She said, "You might not have noticed, but I never use the word 'sex' in my writing. Love is too heavy; I can't do it, and I can't afford it."

With that, she gently hung up the phone.

I shrugged and muttered to myself, "What a show-off! What era are we living in? Still playing these tricks on me."

I hung up the phone, dressed as quickly as possible, slammed the door, and left the house.

I whistled as I hurried through the narrow alleyways. This twilight was alluring and passionate, the light soft and ambiguous. I saw those bitches starting to emerge, each one dressed up and made up like a lady; I also saw those ladies starting to go out, each one dressed seductively, yet looking exactly like bitches. Damn it, how did this world become like this? It's all fucking chaotic!

I greeted them, "Hi!"

They responded flirtatiously, "Hi!"

I stopped and whispered, "Want to have sex?"

They giggled, "Screw you!"

I was utterly dejected. "Even you two won't have sex... Well, let's do it then! One by one, we'll get rid of them!"

Just then, the phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID; it was Beard.

Beard was excited and thrilled. "Dude, I'm at Blue Angel, come quick, there are two chicks here, fucking hot! I'm going to get them!"

I laughed, "Wait for me, let's do it together!"

I dashed off. -8-

Yeah... all those who can't handle love... just go for it! Go crazy for it...
[The End]

(Part 1)

—1—

April 30, 2004. That night, Hu Zi and I were surfing the internet at "Blue Angel."

"Blue Angel" was an internet cafe hidden in a secluded alley, where many beautiful girls usually chatted on QQ. So, even though Hu Zi and I were almost forty, we didn't go home and preferred to hang out here.

Our strategy was: first, find an eye-catching one; second, Hu Zi would peek around and find out her ID; third, find a computer, go on QQ, lock onto the "prey," and then relentlessly pester her until she "added you as a friend."

As for what happened next, hehe, my "talking skills" combined with Hu Zi's "chatting techniques," working together, how could the other person not be "dizzy"? Finally, we arranged a place for a late-night snack, then slipped away through the back door under the cover of darkness. When we met, I feigned surprise—"Wow! I didn't expect you to be so beautiful!"

This greatly satisfied the girl's vanity, giving her a good first impression of us.

Usually, after finishing a dozen beers and a plate of stir-fried rice noodles, when I suggested a "threesome," the girl would mostly remain silent with shyness.

To be honest, sometimes I felt quite ashamed and guilty. How immoral! How unkind! But once I was immersed in passionate sex, I forgot even my own name, and that pitiful sense of morality vanished like a stone thrown into the sea with the intense piston-like movements.

Then there was the night of April 30th. That night, "Blue Angel" was deserted; the only three people there were just silly old men with gleaming green eyes. Beard and I were greatly disappointed. But adhering to the principle of "since we're here, let's make the best of it," we still shared a computer and went online to "hunt."

However, our luck was bad. On the QQ panel, all the dozen or so beauties looked deserted. No wonder, tomorrow was the May Day holiday; anyone with a bit of looks was already taken

. Who had time to waste online with us? Hu Zi suggested going to a chat room, and I thought, since we were bored anyway, we might as well try our luck. So Hu Zi took the lead, rushed into Sina, gave a bunch of pointers, and stumbled into "City Moods" - "Guangzhou Bar." Damn it! It was a chaotic mess. A guy who called himself "I don't have a dick, so who's afraid?" was spamming the chat.

Looking to the left, there was a long, stinky list filled with all sorts of names.

I noticed one called "Beautiful Writer," her ID surrounded by symbols, quite eye-catching.

I chuckled, grabbed the mouse, and clicked on her.

I went straight to the point: Writer, wanna have sex?

Beard chuckled, "You're fucking too direct!"

I said, "Women like this are used to being pretentious. If you try to be sarcastic, she'll definitely dislike you. Better to be rough."

Sure enough, that jerk flew over and said: "Who are you? "

Beard was immediately full of admiration for me, "You're amazing! Come back! Come back!"

I thought for a moment and typed: "To tell you the truth, I am the famously handsome and charming Zhou Botong..."

The other party: "Stop being so cheeky! Who are you? Do we know each other?"

I typed: "Okay, I'll tell you, I'm actually an actor."

The other party: "..."

I typed again: "The night is long, and I can't sleep. Would you like to have sex, miss?"

The other party: "Don't try to play Stephen Chow with me, that's outdated."

Undeterred, I pressed on: "Who's fashionable now? Tell me, miss."

The other party: "How about Wong Kar-wai? Are you up to it?"

I was overjoyed and nudged Beard in the ribcage, "Hey, it's your turn! Wong Kar-wai, your forte!"

Beard perked up and immediately typed furiously: "Every day you have the chance to brush past someone. You may know nothing about them, but maybe one day they might become your friend or confidant. I'm a tough guy, my name is Beard, nickname Hu Gan San."

The other party: "Chungking Express," which he knew by heart.

Beard typed: "The 30th, April 30th. One minute before 11 pm on April 30th, 2004, you and I met online. Because of you, I will remember this minute. From now on, we are friends for one minute. This is a fact, you can't change it, because it's already in the past..."

The other party: "Days of Being Wild."

Beard scratched his head and typed again: "Every night, you have the chance to see many strange people online, like here, I met a girl like you. I really want to tell you that some things can't be resolved online, either talk about them face to face, or figure them out more deeply..."

But after pressing enter, the other party remained silent for a long time.

Beard was getting impatient. "Ah Fei, we're not going to waste our time, are we?"

I sneered. "Based on my years of experience, this brief silence is a normal prelude to taking the bait."

Before I finished speaking, a line of text flashed on the screen: Want to know more about me? Go check out my homepage, I'm waiting for you here.

A URL with a link followed immediately.

Beard clicked it casually, and the browser opened a new window.

Damn, it was Flashy, so it loaded slowly. It took ages to see the homepage name: "Fallen Angel." I said, "Beard, your shot just now hit the girl's weak spot!" Beard was smug. "Damn, trying to play Wong Kar-wai with me? That's just asking for trouble!" He

then clicked on it. There were several navigation bars: "Latest Articles," "Portfolio," "Guestbook," and "About Me."

Without even thinking, Beard clicked on "About Me" first, highlighting a few lines of small text.

Beard and I were both stunned after reading it.

"So it's her!" Beard said.

"I really did meet the legendary beautiful writer!"

Beard asked, "Shall we continue?"

I said, "Of course! What's a barefoot person afraid of wearing shoes? Besides, this is a rare opportunity!"

Beard nodded, "That's right, beautiful women are common, but beautiful writers are not."

I gritted my teeth, "So we have to give her a good thrashing!"

Beard said, "Actually, she's not a good person either. Haven't you heard? She dared to post nude photos online, making her extremely popular—let me see if there's anything here..." Beard searched as he spoke, "Hey, there really is! Look!"

It turned out there was a link below those few lines of small text. After clicking it, a set of pictures appeared.

Beard and I stared intently...

Beard muttered to himself, "It's a pity we can't see her face."

I said, "But she has a good figure, fair skin, and is very manipulable!"

Indeed, although the woman in the pictures had her face blurred, everything below her neck was clearly visible. Some of the pictures were close-ups, showing her breasts, buttocks, and the "Y" shape below her navel. Her breasts were large and full, her nipples plump; her buttocks were full, round and perky; and between her legs was a thick, glistening clump of pubic hair! It was jet black.

I swallowed hard. "Beard," I said, "I bet you this chick is a slut! Look at that pubic hair… damn, it's like a wolf's horn, the kind that never stops igniting!"

"What are we waiting for? Let's attack!"

I rubbed my hands together excitedly. "Let me go! I'll go first, you cover me!"

—2—

I won't copy the chat logs from that night here—In short, I successfully obtained the "beautiful writer's" phone number and address. When Beard and I walked out of "Blue Angel," a refreshing breeze greeted us, making us feel invigorated.

Beard said, "It looks like it's going to rain."

I said, "That's good, we'll have to do some physical work later, so it'll save us from getting all sweaty."

Then I called the "beautiful writer."

The phone rang for quite a while before someone answered, "Hello?" The voice was slightly hoarse, yet magnetic. Damn, I love that tone.

I tried to use a deep male voice, "Hello, it's me."

The other person chuckled, "Sorry, I was taking a shower, so I was late."

I said, "Really? I thought we'd have a chance to take a bath together!"

The other person playfully scolded, "You're so annoying!"

Oh dear, I can't stand women being coquettish, especially such a charmingly coquettish one. My heart immediately fluttered, and my little brother started to stir. I asked, "Are you alone?"

The other person said, "Of course."

I laughed, "So, including me, it's just the two of us?"

The other person asked curiously, "What do you mean?"

I coughed, "I mean, would you be interested in a threesome?"

The other person hesitated for a moment, "That...that's not quite right..."

I said, "Actually, it's always been just the two of us. The one who was talking to you about Stephen Chow is me, and the one who was talking to you about Wong Kar-wai is my buddy, nicknamed 'Beard,' a tough guy and handsome too."

The other person's tone was slightly displeased, "Oh, so you two are partners. " "You schemed against me! Forget it, let's reschedule for another day."

I quickly explained, "Please don't misunderstand! Think about it, we didn't even know who you were before, so how could we say we conspired to scheme against you? Besides... and..." My mind raced, quickly thinking of an excuse, "Besides... a woman like you, making me happy and sad all by myself, that's such a luxury! Such a waste of resources! Such a disservice to society, such a disservice to us, the flowers of our motherland, such a hardship for our fragile hearts..." The

other person laughed, "I didn't expect you to be able to recite my articles."

I felt ashamed! Fortunately, I hadn't been idle earlier; I had read a few essays by this "beautiful writer," and vaguely remembered some fragments. Now, using them to ramble on, it turned out to be a lucky coincidence.

So I continued my persuasion, “There are still a dozen minutes until May Day—let’s get together and spend an unforgettable Labor Day! If you refuse, what am I supposed to do with my lustful body and love-craving heart? I believe you are a loving woman, a woman who has transcended vulgar tastes, a pure woman, a…”

The other party interrupted my rambling, “Stop joking! If you’re coming, hurry up and be there before midnight, or you’ll be late.”

With that, she hung up the phone decisively.

I glanced at Beard, who was staring at me expectantly, “Well?”

I deliberately shrugged, feigning helplessness.

Beard was extremely dejected, “Damn it! The cooked duck flew away!”

I laughed, “You’d better hurry up and call a taxi! She’s already cleaned up and is waiting for us!”

…

The above events occurred before midnight Beijing time on April 30, 2004. Given that the “beautiful writer” mentioned in this article is a public figure, I am not comfortable using her real name in the article. After much consideration, I've decided to use the third person—that is, "she"—as far as my astute readers will know who she is :)

—3—

As soon as I got off the bus, a bolt of lightning struck, illuminating the sign for "So-and-so College" with a "snap."

Then a clap of thunder boomed overhead, making the raindrops pelt down. I yelled, "Run!" and sprinted towards the school!

But the downpour still caught up with me...

By the time Hu Zi and I found the place, we were both soaked to the bone. I was panting heavily as I rang the doorbell. "Who is it?" the voice on the phone asked.

"It's me!"

Before I could finish speaking, the door opened. A shapely silhouette appeared against the backlight.

The silhouette said, "Come in quickly."

And so, on this rainy night, I had the great privilege of visiting the "beautiful writer's" boudoir.

As she introduced herself, she taught at a university in Guangzhou and lived in a single faculty apartment allocated by the school. The apartment wasn't big, maybe thirty square meters at most, just enough for a double bed, a computer desk, a wardrobe, and a bookshelf.

There was a small door at the back, which I guessed served as both a bathroom and toilet. Several abstract paintings were pasted on the walls; if I remembered correctly, they were Kandinsky's scribbles. I also smelled a very strong and provocative feminine scent, permeating the room and intoxicating me.

I stood in the doorway taking off my shoes. "This damn weather, it just started raining like that."

She closed and locked the door. "You're all soaked, aren't you? But I don't have any clothes for you to change into."

I said, "It's okay, we'll have to take them off anyway, haha..."

She asked, "Are you Afei?"

I said, "Correct, ten points for you."

Then I straightened up and looked her over. She appeared to be around twenty-five or twenty-six years old, with long, soft hair. She wore a black lace-trimmed nightgown, a rather form-fitting style that accentuated her slender waist and prominent breasts, almost bursting out. Her eyes were narrow and curved, always seeming to be smiling; her nose was small, and her lips full and fleshy. Her face shape was somewhere between an "oval" and an "apple."

In short, while she wasn't exactly a beauty, she was certainly not unattractive, definitely better than Wei Huijiu Dan and Mu Zimei—a fact that pleased me greatly.

She stood there, smiling and arms crossed, "Want to take a shower first?"

I turned to her, "Beard, you go first, I'll set the mood for everyone here."

Beard said, "Sure, I'll take care of it then."

With that, Beard quickly took off his clothes—in the blink of an eye, he was only wearing a pair of red "bullet head" brand briefs.

I said to her, "Look, she's got a model's figure! What do you think? Pretty pleasing to the eye, right?"

Beard feigned shyness, "What are you saying? You're making me feel so embarrassed."

She giggled beside me, "You two are such a pair!"

I moved closer to her, "That's right, we do have some treasures, not many, one each."

She stared at me, her eyes flirtatious, even a little lewd, "Really? Are they big?"

I frankly told her, "You'll know once you touch them."

At that moment, Beard dashed towards the bathroom like a rabbit, "You two are disgusting! I can't stand it anymore..."

She laughed again, revealing two rows of pearly white teeth and two "Xu Qing-style" dimples. Oh my god! She was so alluring at that moment!

I've always believed that a woman can be not beautiful, but she cannot be not seductive. Seductive is flirtatious, flirtatious is lewd, lewd is wanton, wanton is skilled in bed, is able to make a man feel like he's in heaven.

I said, "Take off your clothes, let's go to bed and get to know each other."

She nodded, "Okay."

—4—

Next, I'm going to try a different narrative style—because during the writing of this article, I received an email from her with the subject "Three People, One Bed." As the title suggests, she recounted the story of that night in her own words. After reading it, I called her and said that I was also writing, but not as delicately as hers.

She said, "Women focus on feelings, men focus on the process, so it's normal for them to write differently. If you're interested, you might try combining the two styles; it might create something new." I said, "You're a very creative girl, okay, I'll give it a try."

So I tried it.

Here are the results of the experiment—

her:

…People say "a rainy night is sentimental," and I think the word "sentiment" must be missing the word "desire."

That night it was raining heavily, and my desire was more intense than usual.

I think this was not only because of the weather, but also because of the people. The young man named "Afei" was more handsome than I had imagined, especially when he took off his shirt; his pectoral muscles trembled exaggeratedly, and my heart

skipped a beat with excitement.

I must admit I'm a lustful woman. Even seeing a "muscular" or "handsome" man on the street makes me unconsciously sexually aroused, let alone him standing right in front of me, and specifically for that purpose.

He then pulled down his pants, along with his underwear. And so I saw his penis, which was truly "erect like a raging frog."

I like men with "big guys," although some articles say that a man's size has nothing to do with the quality of sex life, I don't really believe that. How could that be? If it's not long enough, it won't go deep enough, and the impact won't be as strong; if it's not thick enough, it won't be tight enough, and the pleasure of friction will be less.

So I thank God! He gave me a man who is excellent both top and bottom on this holiday.

Oh, and there's another one, he's making a splashing sound in my bathroom—he's not as handsome as Ah Fei, but his little mustache is really sexy. I've heard that men with beards are mostly "womanizers," I wonder if that's true?

Ah Fei said: It's your turn to take your clothes off. I said, "Don't rush, sometimes half-covering is more alluring than not covering at all." Afei said, "That makes sense, then take off half and leave half!" I asked, "Which half do you want me to take off?" Afei thought for a moment and said, "Take off the top first, the bottom will come sooner or later anyway. "

Listening to Afei talk was very pleasant. He's always so witty and outspoken.

Two hours ago, he asked me online, "Want to have sex?"

I immediately admired him. To be honest, I hate hypocritical and pretentious men.

They clearly want to have sex with you, but they put on a hypocritical face, which is boring.

I like Afei's directness because he can make you feel good. What I mean is, if you're going to do it, do it to the fullest; if it's not satisfying, you might as well just go to sleep. So I'm not against "threesomes," although I've never tried it before, but two men sandwiching one woman…

just thinking about it makes me blush and excited, let alone experiencing it firsthand.

I climbed onto the bed like a mother cat, then knelt on the mattress and slowly took off my pajamas. I wasn't very confident about my looks, but I was proud of my body. I'm from Chongqing, and Sichuan girls' skin is legendary, and mine is exceptionally fair and smooth.

One online friend was particularly obsessed with my skin, saying he sometimes really wanted to steam me and eat me! His words terrified me, so I stopped contacting him.

...

Okay, now it's my turn to speak—

the rain keeps falling.

The raindrops pattered against the window, like popping beans, quite a lively sound.

I lay on the soft bed, my long penis erect, admiring the "beautiful writer" undressing. Actually, there wasn't much to "undress" about; those little pajamas had at most two buttons, and she easily "opened her chest."

Then I saw two beautiful "boobs." The "boobs" were plump and fair, the "boobs" full and round, the "breast-like" type. I also noticed that her areolas were large, perfectly round, and pale pink.

I said, "Your breasts look a lot like Yang Simin's."

She asked, "Who's Yang Simin?"

I explained, "She's a Taiwanese actress who starred in Category III films, played Pan Jinlian, and is known as having the most beautiful breasts in Asia."

She shook her head, "I rarely watch Taiwanese films."

I laughed, "Then you must like European films, the very unrestrained kind."

She said, "You guessed right, it really is."

After saying that, she gracefully gathered her long hair, "Want me to give you a demonstration?"

I immediately agreed, "Sure! Sure!"

She smiled with her lips pursed, reached out, and grasped my penis.

She said, "So hard!"

I corrected her, "It's firm."

She hummed in agreement, glancing at me with her eyes, while slowly creeping forward...

I knew what she wanted to do, so I quickly gathered my breath and straightened my penis.

She smiled seductively at me again, her two dimples deepening as a pink, moist tongue emerged and gently licked the head of my penis. I exaggeratedly shuddered (actually, I didn't react that much), and even deliberately let out a "whoosh."

So she got smug, opened her mouth, and took the entire glans into her warm mouth, sucking on it like a baby nursing.

Her hands weren't idle either; one quickly stroked me, the other played with my testicles.

The most amazing thing was—during this whole process, she kept staring at me seductively, occasionally throwing me a glance—that was incredibly satisfying! You know, most Chinese women are conservative; even if they're willing to give you oral sex, it's usually a silent, unspoken exchange with the "master."

So, this "beautiful writer" is truly exceptional; she's different. Her "seductiveness" is ingrained—in that respect, she's really like a European film heroine.

Unfortunately, that bearded guy spoiled the mood—just as I was getting into it, he darted out like a rabbit, screaming, "Wow! You guys are all having fun!"

I glared at him fiercely, "Don't be so dramatic! Can't you see we're busy?"

She, on the other hand, acted quite composed—calmly spitting out her drink, wiping the drool from her mouth, then sitting up, "Come on, let's play together."

Bearded grinned, "Okay!" He made a face at me, "Look at her! So considerate! I like this kind of person."

Bearded said as he got into bed. He had a white towel tied around his waist to cover himself, but he didn't need it now, so he pulled it off, revealing a thing that was pointed in the front and thick in the back—this kind of thing was nicknamed "Dragon Drill," and it was incredibly powerful.

I coughed once. "Alright! Now listen to my command!"

Hu Zi agreed. "Okay."

I said, "I'll attack the bottom, you attack the top. Let's divide the work and cooperate, no chaotic fighting."

Hu Zi was unwilling. "Why should you be in charge of the bottom?"

I sat up abruptly. "Damn it! There should be a main attack force, right?"

Hu Zi muttered, "I'm also a spearhead company!"

I was about to scold him when suddenly a soft hand reached out and covered my mouth.

She laughed, "What do you two want to do? Go argue outside!"

Beard immediately shook his head, "No! It's raining outside."

She said, "Good to know." Then she let go of his hand, "Can you listen to me?"

It seems that some things really do require the majority to obey the minority—take this matter for example, both men are fucking fond of lewd things, and neither is willing to show "Lei Feng spirit," so it is very easy to create a passive situation of "too many monks, too little water to drink."

Fortunately, the "beautiful writer" dared to stand up—no, she should lie down and settle things—I saw her lying on the bed, her butt facing me, her mouth facing Beard, wasn't this obviously letting us attack from both sides?

Well then, top and bottom, front and back.

Beard took the initiative first—it seems that this guy was already furious, and he didn't show any mercy to the lady, sticking his "poisonous dragon drill" into her mouth. She didn't hesitate either, swallowing half of it in one gulp, and then sucking and making some "squeak squeak squeak" sounds. The sound was like ants, drilling into my ear canal, making me itchy down there.

So I pounced on her and pulled down her pajama pants.

Under the soft glow of the fluorescent light, a round, full buttock was revealed, its white skin gleaming dazzlingly.

I must admit, it was a nice buttock, quite substantial, reminiscent of a large chunk of solidified fat.

I touched it; it felt slightly cool, like touching a piece of soft jade.

I also saw a dark red anus, with delicate folds, exquisitely nestled within the fleshy crevice, twitching slightly, as if something might well spill out at any moment. Further down was a smooth, plump "vagina"—I guessed she had shaved it clean beforehand, otherwise it couldn't have been so clean and aesthetically pleasing. It was like a

fresh, lively oyster, a plump, smooth peach.

At that moment, I was so enamored! My mouth was watering! I wobbled and leaned my head closer, and in a daze, I stuck out my tongue—to put it bluntly—like a dog licking a bowl, from top to bottom, inside and out, licking and scraping incessantly, juice and all. It was exactly like that:

sucking, licking, biting, and swallowing, a soul-stirring experience

upon entry. Alright, alright… I won't get sentimental here. Let the "beautiful writer" share her personal experience.

But I'd like to add—

her vaginal fluid was very sour, a bit like lemon juice.

…

She:

These are two young men, very talkative, very healthy, and very cute. I like them. I only regret that I don't have any students like them.

If I did, what would I do? Seduce them? Sleep with them? Teach them how to satisfy a greedy woman? I think I could do it.

How turbulent and restless this world is! I just want to enjoy myself.

To enjoy myself, I must abandon my shame and lie on the bed like a wagging-tail bitch.

At this moment, I seemed to see another version of myself, her eyes wet and mournful, saying in a groaning voice: Ah, I am such a cheap woman.

The one called "Beard" knelt before me, his penis facing me. His penis was peculiarly shaped, like an awl. I carefully opened my mouth, letting it pierce in. When I licked it with my tongue and sucked on it with my mouth, I could feel its powerful vibrations. I knew it was happy, and its happiness infected me, making me cling to it even more passionately, as if clinging to its soul. If it had a soul, then.

For the first time in my life, I discovered how passionate I was about oral sex…

Just as I was busy showing off my verbal skills, a wave of pleasure suddenly surged from behind. I was very familiar with this pleasure, because men were all fascinated by my beautiful genitals. It seemed young Ah Fei was no exception. Like other men, he first enjoyed me by tasting. His tongue was wild and unrestrained, like a brush, scrubbing me thoroughly…

I knew I was wet; heaven knows why I was so wet, even without a man touching me, I was often soaking wet.

Oh… the pleasure mutated at an incredible speed. Finally, it became a beast, rampaging through my body.

I started to thrust my hips. Men who have been with me know—thrusting my hips is my signal, meaning I can't wait any longer, I want to be fucked. Or to put it another way: I needed another male organ to satisfy my sexual desire.

But Ah Fei didn't understand my intentions; he continued licking incessantly. His tongue was already inside, wriggling and teasing me. I couldn't hold back any longer.

I spat out my engorged penis, turned around, and yelled: Ah Fei! Put it in, with your thing.

Ah Fei poked his face out from behind me. I saw his mouth and chin were covered in glistening liquid. He looked both ridiculous and adorable. I asked him: Don't you want to fuck me?

He immediately straightened his back and rubbed my vulva with something hard and hot. I was getting impatient, so I freed one hand and reached over to grab it.

I said: Don't move!

Then I thrust my hips back. The first time it didn't go in; it slipped away. The second time, however, it went in perfectly; I thought I heard a "plop." I let go, looked at his flushed face, and said: Harder! I want you.

Ah Fei bit his lower lip, cupped my buttocks, and thrust into me three times in quick succession. I shuddered three times in a row. It was great! It felt amazing. He was a young man after all, with the recklessness and impact of a wild beast. Plus, he was long and hard, hitting that one spot on my body—I've always suspected my G-spot is hidden deep inside me, because only deep penetration positions give me intense pleasure.

So, I usually prefer the "riding position," which allows me to take the initiative and let the man thrust into that spot.

However, most men can't handle it, often collapsing after just a few or a dozen thrusts.

Once, I met a "gentle middle-aged man" online. He was humorous and witty, which attracted me, so I asked him out.

At first, he performed well, thrusting slowly and methodically. But as soon as I mounted him, he got nervous, and after two or three thrusts, he ejaculated.

Afterwards, he told me regretfully, "I'm not used to women being on top." I coldly replied: "Sorry, I'm the same as you, I'm not used to being dominated."

Of course, the above passage about memories was added by me while writing. Actually, when I was being brutally fucked by Afei, I felt like even the blood in the body of a hungry tiger pouncing on its prey wasn't boiling with such joy.

I wouldn't think about anything else!

I turned my face towards Hu Zi with difficulty: "Fuck me too!"

Then I opened my mouth wide.

...May Day, I dealt with the beautiful writer (Part 2, The End)

-5-

I lasted about fifteen minutes for the first time, and then ejaculated in her slippery, narrow, and moist pussy.

This broke my record of nearly two years - the shortest I've lasted in the past two years was half an hour.

It's all this woman's fault, she's too slutty, too wild. Sometimes I simply can't tell - am I fucking her? Or is she fucking me?

Even if I hover still, she doesn't care, her big ass keeps arching over me, fierce and aggressive.

Also, I have to admit she has a "good pussy". Logically, she should have been used countless times, yet she showed no wear or looseness whatsoever. On the contrary, she was incredibly tight and supple. Furthermore, she was very wet—a point I've already mentioned above, but I must emphasize again here—she was very wet and viscous, like a lubricant-producing machine, constantly secreting and soaking into you.

So, I had a rather immoral idea—she should become a prostitute. With such good looks, it would be such a waste if she didn't! It would be a huge loss for all the "prostitutes" in the world.

After I ejaculated, I slid out and sat panting to the side, watching her and Hu Zi's "endurance battle of blowjobs." I knew Hu Zi's stamina very well; he had been given the title of "Iron Airplane" by the sauna girls, truly a man who could not get an erection no matter how long he tried. The poor "beautiful writer" used all her strength, but all she got in return were a few moans and groans. It was just like: "

Playing the jade flute, each

note a sob ,

but the lover is as hard as iron,

showing no intention of relieving himself.

" At that moment, the sudden rain stopped. Without the noise of the raindrops, the sounds in the room became even more thrilling. First, there were the panting sounds, both man and woman, heavy, rapid, and soul-stirring; then came her oral sex sounds, sometimes smacking, sometimes slurping, sometimes whimpering, all "like an old lady sitting on a bench—meticulous and methodical," full of lewdness.

After describing the sound, let's depict the image, starting with a "close-up"—the camera pulls back from a swaying, glistening drop of saliva, revealing it's coming from the "beautiful writer's" mouth.

The "writer's" cheeks puff out and deflate as she diligently sucks on something. Next, we see flushed cheeks, dazed eyes, and a few strands of wet hair clinging to her sweat-drenched forehead… The camera continues to pull back, becoming a "wide shot"—the bearded man, head held high towards the ceiling, eyes tightly shut, mouth wide open, throat heaving, hands on hips, in a heroic pose; the woman, limbs on the bed, agile body, long hair disheveled, head swaying, breathing rapidly.

I patted the "writer's" bottom, "Go for it! You can't get him with your mouth!"

She glanced at me knowingly and winked.

Beard, his voice hoarse, yelled, "You little bastard, you betrayed me!"

I sneered, "You've been holding it in for so long, aren't you afraid of getting yourself into trouble?"

So, at my urging and guidance, her hands joined the "battle." I suddenly noticed how beautiful her hands were—long, slender fingers, delicately manicured nails, and painted with black nail polish. One hand gripped my penis tightly, rapidly stroking it; the other cupped my scrotum, kneading and swirling it. And her mouth, still holding the glans, sucked even more rapidly…

Five minutes later, Beard was panting heavily.

I cheered her on, "Faster! Give it your all!"

Beard roared, "Oh! Fuck!"

Before the word "fuck" even finished, Beard's buttocks suddenly thrust forward! His penis disappeared three-quarters of the way in an instant—it was all inside the "beautiful writer's" mouth, I reckon it was already stuck in her throat!

Then Beard started trembling all over, wave after wave, like he had malaria.

I quickly patted the "beautiful writer's" back—afraid she'd choke.

She frowned in pain, making gurgling sounds in her throat.

Thankfully… nothing serious happened, she swallowed it all.

Beard and I both breathed a sigh of relief.

But she wouldn't let go of Beard's penis until it became a soft, limp snake… only then did she reluctantly release it, her cheeks still bulging, as if she still had a mouthful, unwilling to swallow.

I joked, "Spit it out, we have plenty of that stuff!"

She gently shook her head, her eyes fixed on Beard, then suddenly stretched out two snow-white arms, hooked them around Beard's neck, and pulled him right in front of her…

Holy crap! She actually kissed him!

Beard probably didn't react in time, instinctively opening his mouth, and she gave him a big gulp! “Let you have a taste!” She immediately pushed Hu Zi away, shrank back, snuggled into my arms, and giggled, “How does it taste?”

Hu Zi didn’t even have time to say anything! His body was like it had springs in it, he jumped up and almost sprinted into the bathroom, and then I heard a loud “waaaah” sound coming from inside.

I was still shaken. "You were too...too mischievous!"

She snorted and said, "Who told him to torment me like that? I held it in for so long, my gums were aching."

I said, "You don't know, he's a famous 'iron plane,' even professionals can't handle him. Once, they tried blowing and hitting him for over two hours, and he still couldn't come. So, you're already quite capable of taking him down."

She laughed and asked, "What about you? Why can't you?"

I glared at her. "Who said I can't? Weren't you satisfied just now?"

She said, "I wasn't satisfied yet!"

Then she turned around and looked at me seductively. "Tell me, am I too lewd?"

I nodded honestly. "Yeah, you are lewd, but I like it."

She said, "Even if you don't like it, there's nothing I can do." "It's innate. I wrote an article titled 'Drag me into the shadows and rape me,' and another one titled 'I want to be a complete whore for everyone.' I posted the articles online, and many people said I was a bit perverted after reading them."

At this moment, Beard finally finished vomiting, returned dejectedly, and shouted upon hearing this, "You're not just a bit perverted, you're extremely perverted! Completely perverted!"

She remained calm and composed, "That's right, that's how I am. If you can't handle it, then don't play."

Beard jumped onto the bed, "I can't handle it? Haha! What a joke! Didn't you want to play rape? Watch how I rape you later!"

I quickly smoothed things over, "Okay, okay! Now I declare the first round of battle over, let's rest for a while. Come on, lie down, I'll tell you a joke."

So the three of us were all "lying down." The "beautiful writer" slept in the middle, and Beard and I were on either side. Beard seemed a little resentful, turning his back to us, only to be kicked by her. "Hey! You wouldn't be so petty, would you? I just fed you a bite, and it was your own stuff."

Beard turned 180 degrees. "You're the petty one—I just blew on it a little longer, and it was something you liked."

She laughed. "Okay, we're even, let's start over. Ah Fei, weren't you going to tell a joke? Hurry up and tell one."

I thought for a moment. "Alright, I'll tell you one. Once upon a time, there was a thief, not very educated, who only knew the word 'bank.' One day, he found a bank and rushed in to rob it, but to his surprise, the safe was empty, filled only with jelly. In a fit of anger, the thief ate it all." "Okay. The next day, the newspaper had a headline saying that the city's sperm bank had been robbed yesterday, and the sperm had been completely stolen..."

She laughed heartily, "I get it, you're talking about Beard... Beard, were you the thief? How did it taste?"

Beard spat, "That's an old, tired joke, so boring."

She said, "Then tell me a new one, but it has to be funny."

Beard grumbled for a while, "New jokes? I have plenty here... but I need to filter them. Why don't you go first, and I'll go after you're done?"

She laughed, "You're so cheeky... Okay, I'll go first. There are three people, two men and one woman, sleeping together. The woman sleeps in the middle, and the men sleep on either side, just like we are now."

I interjected, "Your joke is quite fitting."

She gently punched me. "Don't interrupt! The next morning, when everyone woke up, the woman, beaming, said, 'You know what? Last night, I had a really weird dream!' The man on the left said, 'Come on, your dream isn't as weird as mine—I dreamt someone was giving me a handjob, all night long, and look, I'm still limp.' Hearing this, the man on the right yelled—'Oh my god! My dream is exactly the same as yours! Look, I'm still wet!' Then the two men asked the woman—'What did you dream about?'"

She deliberately left me in suspense, "You..." "Guess what that woman dreamed about?"

I shook my head. "I can't guess."

Beard shook his head too. "Who the hell knows! Just tell me!"

She revealed the answer, "As soon as the woman heard the two men talking, she understood what was going on. She said, very embarrassed, 'I'm sorry, I had a dream. I dreamed that I skied all night in the Alps!'"

Beard didn't react. "Skiing? What's wrong with skiing?"

She laughed and made a skiing motion. "Silly! Think about it, how do you ski? One hand, one pole, up and down..."

Beard chuckled. "Damn! Such a difficult idea, and you..." "I can think of that."

She said, "I heard it from someone else. Okay, it's your turn."

Beard scratched his head, "I really can't think of anything right now... How about this, I'll tell you one from when we were in school. That year we were seniors, and the school was having a graduation ceremony. A guy went up and recited a poem, saying: 'Freshman girls are like apples, sophomore girls are like oranges, junior girls are like pears.' Then a girl next to him asked very eagerly, 'What about us senior girls?' Haha, guess what the guy said?"

She asked, "What did he say?"

Beard burst out laughing, "Damn it, the guy answered very sincerely, 'Sister, please, senior girls...'" "Is life still fruit? Haha, isn't that funny?"

She didn't say anything, and after a long while, she said quietly, "It's not funny... It's really scary to think about. Even seniors aren't considered fruit anymore, so what about people like us? From body to soul, how old have we become?"

I comforted her, "Look at you, getting sentimental so easily, you really are a writer. Actually, you're not that old. What year were you in? '97 or '98?"

She whispered, "'97."

Her beard twitched, "Damn! The three of us graduated in the same year."

She sighed, "Sigh, six or seven years have passed in a flash, and I'm almost thirty..."

The room suddenly fell silent. Three people, one bed, all silent, as if they were all lost in thought.

I didn't know what they were thinking, but I thought of my first time, and of that woman named "Nina." "Silly boy, being happy and joyful together is more important than anything else, why be so serious?" Although she wasn't a writer, sometimes her words were more philosophical than a writer's. Because of this sentence, I will always remember this woman. If memories were a can of food, I hope this can would never expire.

In the silence, she was the first to sit up, turning over and getting out of bed. She went to the TV cabinet, fiddled with it for a while, and then a soft, ethereal piano melody filled the room. The melody was familiar, but I couldn't quite place where I'd heard it before.

She turned off the light and then drew back the curtains.

There was no moon tonight; the night was a deep blue.

The song began—oh—I knew it, it was "Scáthach Fair," the theme song from "The Graduate," and Sarah Brightman's new cover. The beautiful voice, like a white ribbon, wrapped tightly around my heart.

She returned to us, her body strikingly white against the deep blue.

She whispered, "Have you heard this saying? 'Either make love in silence, or become a pervert in silence.'" –6-

Please allow me to try the "cross-legged" style again.

I felt this approach was a bit like *Chungking Express*, with Takeshi Kaneshiro one minute, Tony Leung the next, Faye Wong the next, everyone rambling incoherently, getting more and more confused.

Luckily, I remained highly clear-headed. I knew I was merely telling a pornographic story. Such stories can lack many things, but they absolutely cannot lack the process. The process is the flesh—the flesh of the scene, or the flesh of the scene.

And a flesh scene can't be sung by one person, don't you think? So, let's give her

a round of applause— Sarah Brightman sang in heavenly hues, leading me into Eden. This night, there was rain, there was wind, there was one Eve, and two Adams. I smiled contentedly. I stretched out my hands, making a "skiing" motion. The "sled handles" in my hands quickly became hard, thick, long, and hot. I heard the "Adam" on my left say: Aren't you tired? I retorted: What do you mean? You want to fuck me, don't you? He said: You're even more direct than me. I said, Of course, I'm a whore who's available to everyone, and a whore doesn't need to be reserved. So I approached "Adam" on my own initiative. This "Adam" had a mustache and a "prick" (or "awl") on his hip. I straddled him and asked, "Do you like this position?" He said, "As long as it goes in, any position is fine." I said, "Okay." I turned to the other "Adam": "What about you? Do you agree?" He said, "No problem, you guys do it, I'll watch." I shook my head: "That won't do, we have to do it together." He said, "I want to join in too, but how?" Unless…unless… I deliberately asked him, "Unless what?" He chuckled mischievously: "Unless you're willing to anal sex." I whispered, "You're not me, how do you know I don't want to?" He was overjoyed: "Really? Okay…do you have any lubricant?" I said, "No, I never need that stuff." He was taken aback: "No? No way, it'll hurt a lot without lubricant!" I shrugged: "If you're afraid of pain, then forget it." He said, "Get lost! Try it if you don't believe me, just don't cry out in pain." Just then, a gust of wind blew in…the wind lifted the curtains. A cool, refreshing rain hung in the air. I took a deep breath, then knelt and spread my legs, letting the hard "cone" of Beard's penis press against me. I parted my labia and found them damp and slippery inside, like they were covered in a layer of moss. Suddenly, I remembered a man who had been with me many times. He said he loved my breasts the most, and then asked if I loved his genitals the most. I didn't feel anything then, so I wasn't sure and didn't know how to answer. But tonight, my feelings were particularly strong! I think I have the answer now, and that is indeed it. I love that thing, and I hate that it's not long enough to penetrate me. My body sank down, and the "cone" pierced into my body. Beard and I screamed at the same time: Ah! Beard, like a child, excitedly clenched his fists and pounded my hips. He yelled: Damn! You're fucking tight! I was excited too: Damn, you're fucking thick! Ah Fei, standing beside me, was extremely jealous: Hey, didn't we agree to do it together? I gasped for breath and said, "Don't rush, I'll get you into position..." I lowered my upper body, my full, sagging breasts pressed against his chest. Then my round, plump buttocks rose up, and my small, delicate anus opened wide; I could even feel the cool breeze trying to get inside. I asked Ah Fei, "Is this okay?"

Afei patted my butt: "Bend higher!

" I hummed in agreement and lowered my back a little more.

...

OK.

It was my turn to speak.

I felt like it was a bit like a "story chain" where I spoke and she spoke in turn. If I had known this would happen, I should have brought Hu Zi in too, and the three of us could have written together, which would have been more "comprehensive." And after we finished writing, we could have posted it online under the pen name "Three-Butt Party"—maybe it would have become popular. You know, anything is possible these days, I'm serious.

Seriously, I'm a very honest person, I love to tell the truth—for example, it's really troublesome to have sex with a woman without lubricant. Readers with a little knowledge of physiology and hygiene know very well that the anus, the passage we humans use to excrete feces, does not have a secretory function. Under normal circumstances, it is very dry and very narrow. If you try to force it, you can't get in. Take me for example, I knelt down behind the "beautiful writer" for a long time, sweating profusely, but it was just dragging on, and I had no chance at all.

So I got really angry and just used my "One-Finger Divine Skill," forcefully inserting it!

She screamed, "Ah!"

I laughed, "Didn't you say you weren't afraid of pain?"

She didn't speak, her anus kept contracting, gripping me tightly, and I could barely pull out.

I asked her, "Why are you so nervous?"

She said in a trembling voice, "It's burning inside... too dry."

I said, "Well, there's nothing I can do. Who told you not to prepare lubricant? How about we get some peanut oil? Is there any in the kitchen?"

She scolded, "Ugh! How can that be? This isn't cooking..."

At this moment, Hu Zi offered a suggestion from below, "Hey, she's very wet inside, can we connect a pipe to bring the water over?"

I laughed loudly, "You think this is the South-to-North Water Diversion Project? But... we can consider it..."

I "whoosh" pulled out my finger, turned it into a palm, and reached down. Then I heard Beard yell, "Damn it! What the hell are you doing touching my balls?"

I said, "Nothing, just wanted to get some grease off you."

Sure enough, Beard's scrotum was covered in sticky liquid. I figured it was a mixture of her vaginal

fluid , my earlier semen, and Beard's secretions... the formula was practically a "3-in-1" of Pantene shampoo—a bit disgusting, but in a moment of desperation, who cares? I smeared and poked, finally making some progress—at least it was smoother than before, and my fingers moved in and out with ease.

I was smug, "That's what they call 'nothing is impossible for a willing heart.' Come on, relax—"

She said, "Don't be too rough... I'll cooperate."

I hummed in agreement, assuming a "horse riding" position, my penis thrusting straight into her anus at a 45-degree angle. "Relax..." I told her again, then took a deep breath, pulled in my stomach, and thrust my hips forward. I felt my glans force its way through a narrow opening, squeezing into a supple tunnel. Oh, fucking good! And fucking tight! The sphincter muscles inside were like rubber bands, tightly wrapped around me, and with her contractions, the anus created a suction force, causing my penis to slowly wriggle forward...

She moaned, "Oh...oh...you're so thick..."

I said in a muffled voice, "Thick is what makes it fun!"

She said, "You're almost tearing me apart!"

I said, "You're almost squeezing me to bursting too!"

In the midst of our exchange, two-thirds of my penis had already been swallowed by her.

So I started trying to thrust.

She really knew how to cooperate—when I thrust, she tightened; when I thrust, she loosened. She seemed to have experience, unlike me—to my shame, I consider myself a "veteran of romance," but I've never tried this before; this night was like a young woman getting married—my first time.

So I had to quickly hand over the "voice"—this part was best left to the "beautiful writer" to say.

...

Inside me, there were two things commonly called "penis."

One was in my vagina, straight, strong, and unyielding.

The other was in my anus, rough and forceful, thrusting in and out repeatedly. It was like a cylindrical steel file, rubbing against my delicate sphincter muscles, giving me waves of burning sensation.

Actually, this wasn't my first time doing anal sex. My first time happened two years ago in the spring. At that time, I had a relatively stable boyfriend, a "returned overseas student" who liked to play unconventional games, such as "backdoor sex." I remember that time it was because I had my period and it wasn't convenient to have sex with him, so he asked me if I wanted to do anal sex, and I said why not?

In the end, neither of us was very happy. Firstly, because I was in pain and kept yelling, which disappointed him. Secondly, because we weren't coordinated well. The main responsibility was mine; I was too inexperienced. After that, we didn't try it again for a long time.

That autumn, I went on a trip to Zhuhai with him and stayed at a resort hotel. That night, he

took out an electric dildo from his purse, saying it was brought back from Japan and he wanted me to try it—I had never used anything like it before, so I was very curious and agreed with a smile.

He told me to take off my clothes, crawl on my stomach, and then he inserted the thing. At first, it wasn't anything special, just a little sore and swollen, but after the current was turned on, the feeling was different! It felt like countless tiny ants were biting and stinging me… making me unbearably itchy.

Just then, he started pouring "baby oil" into my anus.

Then he easily inserted it.

That time I tasted pleasure—although I was constipated for more than a week afterward, at the time, I truly entered a state of ecstasy.

I wrote an article about it, titled "My Anal Sexual Desire." After the article was posted online, it sparked controversy among many female friends—I once met one who said she had also had anal sex, but it wasn't as exaggerated as I described.

My advice to her was: First, to use a "two-pronged approach," meaning to perform intercourse and anal sex simultaneously. This is similar to mixed doubles, where both sides can complement each other, reducing discomfort in the anal canal. Second, to emphasize coordination and rhythm. The anal ring and anal canal walls are richly supplied with nerve endings, and moderate friction will inevitably bring pleasurable sensations—the key is "moderation." This "moderation" must be controlled by "tightness."

Enough rambling, let's get back to the point.

I must admit that not having prepared lubricant was my mistake, because an article titled "Anal Sex Guide" clearly states—"If you intend to enjoy a woman's anus, then no amount of lubricant will be enough..." But that night's events were sudden, and I was completely unprepared, both mentally and materially. Fortunately, my vaginal secretions were plentiful, which could be used as lubricant, and Ah Fei's continuous ejaculation (I suspect it was his first time, hence the lack of control) kept my anus moist and slippery.

So I began to enjoy it… Actually, all I needed to do was control the rise and fall of my hips—when I arched my back, Ah Fei penetrated deeply, long enough to reach my rectum, giving me a strong urge to defecate; when I sank down, his beard thrust upwards, filling my entire vagina.

The pleasure overlapped, like wave after wave…

I gradually increased the frequency…

Oh God! I orgasmed!

I yelled: Faster! Harder! Harder!

At that moment, I was completely disoriented, as if my body no longer belonged to me, only an empty shell floating in a cloud of clouds.

...

Actually, at that time, both Hu Zi and I were simultaneously "going berserk."

I had completely opened her anus, although it was still tight, but thrusting was no longer difficult—probably because I had briefly lost control and injected some more fluid inside. In short, the more I fucked, the more excited I became, the more I enjoyed it! Later, I even dared to pull out completely and then shove the whole thing back in—interestingly, when I pulled out, her anus would make a "pop" sound, like a fart, but thankfully there was no odor.

Hu Zi was even more ferocious! He grabbed her neck, his buttocks thrusting wildly upwards, making her stomach slam with loud "smacks."

The poor "beautiful writer" was left disheveled, sweating profusely, panting, and clutching the sheets tightly—I thought to myself, how could this go on! She'd probably die! I quickly called out to Beard, "Hey, take it easy! Don't hurt her!"

Beard was panting, "How are you? I'm about to come!"

I said, "I've been wanting to cum for

a while..." Beard shouted, "Then let's cum together!"

We both went all out again, fucking her wildly a few times, and almost simultaneously, I thrust into her deepest part—she screamed hysterically—Ah!!!

Then I ejaculated "thump thump thump"...

...

In summary, I summarized the battle:

First, Beard ejaculated once in the "beautiful writer's" mouth.

Second, I ejaculated once in the "beautiful writer's" anus.

Third, Beard and I each ejaculated once in the "beautiful writer's" vagina.

Note: And neither of us used a condom!

...

Afterwards, Beard asked me, "Hey, do you think she might be pregnant?"

I scratched my head, "I don't know."

Beard looked worried, "What if she is...what will we do then?"

I patted my chest, "A man should be willing to take responsibility!"

Beard shook his head, "It's not that I don't want to take responsibility—I mean, who will be the father if the child is born?"

I thought for a moment, "Your last time was pretty solid, so it's probably 80% your fault."

Beard protested, "Even if I'm 80%, you're still 20%! Why should I be solely responsible?"

I sighed, "Okay, count me in, I'll take 20%." "Child support."

Beard muttered, "That's more like it... Hey, I have an idea. If it's a son, we'll name him Hu Fei. What do you think?"

I was furious. "Damn it! Why are you in front and I'm in the back?"

Beard argued, "I'm supposed to be in front, and you're in the back!"

I was speechless. "Okay then... but our son's nickname has to be Snow Mountain Flying Fox. This time, I'm in front."

Beard grumbled, "Pah! You never seem to lose out!" -7-

Just like all porn movies end with ejaculation, this rambling "pornographic article" of mine will also end with "exhaustion." There's a song called "Let love end before sunrise," and besides, we didn't even have a love affair. To put it crudely, we just "did it" once.

Okay, if it's going to end, then I plan to end it on May 16th, 2004, which is yesterday. Actually, yesterday wasn't anything special; it was just another Sunday after the May Day holiday. I feel the word "Sunday" has a bit of a verb-like effect—since coming to Guangzhou, I've almost always done it "one day a week"—in our northern region, "日" means "to do.

" I thought of the "beautiful writer." I must admit, she's a pretty good "playmate," both wanton and able to be. So I stood on the balcony, overlooking the gray city in the twilight, and called her, "Hello? Is this the writer? Want some sex?"

She giggled, "It's you."

I said, "Let me tell you some good news first, my article—no, I should say our article—is very popular, already over seven thousand clicks and more than twenty pages of replies. But a lot of people are asking if you're that 'Bamboo Shadow Green Eyes'."

She was unhappy, "How could there be such a misunderstanding?"

I explained to her, "You two are both university teachers, and you've both posted nude photos online, so it's easy for people to get confused."

She said "Oh."

I said, "But what's most infuriating is that some people still think you're Mu Zimei."

Her voice immediately turned angry. "Pah! Then you should stand up and clarify things for me!"

I said, "Without your permission, I dare not reveal your real identity. I used the third person the whole time, 'beautiful writer,' haha."

She sighed, "Sigh! Do you think 'beautiful writer' is still as popular as it used to be? These days, saying someone is a 'beautiful writer' is like saying someone is a prostitute, it's almost like insulting them."

I disagreed, "It can't be that bad! Aren't there people in this world who are both talented and beautiful?"

She said, "There are, but not many, and they certainly aren't writers. Think about it, would a beautiful woman need to write?"

I complimented her, "You write quite well!"

She said, "I do like to write, but I'm not beautiful."

I took the opportunity to change the subject, "Whether you're beautiful or not, I like you anyway. How about it? Tonight, just the two of us, alone, you know?"

She didn't reply, and remained silent for a long time.

I panicked. "Hey! What are you thinking about? Say something!"

She finally whispered, "I'm sorry, I don't want to see you again."

I was stunned. "Why?"

She said, "You're the kind of man I like, and I'm afraid I'll fall in love with you."

I said with a smirk, "Then love me! After all, sex is love too."

She said, "You might not have noticed, but I never use the word 'sex' in my writing. Love is too heavy; I can't do it, and I can't afford it."

With that, she gently hung up the phone.

I shrugged and muttered to myself, "What a show-off! What era are we living in? Still playing these tricks on me."

I hung up the phone, dressed as quickly as possible, slammed the door, and left the house.

I whistled as I hurried through the narrow alleyways. This twilight was alluring and passionate, the light soft and ambiguous. I saw those bitches starting to emerge, each one dressed up and made up like a lady; I also saw those ladies starting to go out, each one dressed seductively, yet looking exactly like bitches. Damn it, how did this world become like this? It's all fucking chaotic!

I greeted them, "Hi!"

They responded flirtatiously, "Hi!"

I stopped and whispered, "Want to have sex?"

They giggled, "Screw you!"

I was utterly dejected. "Even you two won't have sex... Well, let's do it then! One by one, we'll get rid of them!"

Just then, the phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID; it was Beard.

Beard was excited and thrilled. "Dude, I'm at Blue Angel, come quick, there are two chicks here, fucking hot! I'm going to get them!"

I laughed, "Wait for me, let's do it together!"

I dashed off. -8-

Yes... all love

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Winning over a beautiful writer

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