Cornfields in my hometown

At 18, I dreamt for the first time of a girl wearing a soft, loose-fitting cotton dress. The gentle breeze blew, and the beautiful curves of her rounded buttocks aroused me in the dream, resulting in my first nocturnal emission.

When I reached between my legs and touched that sticky substance, I felt both nervous and excited. Although I didn't understand what it was, as the frequency of my nocturnal emissions increased and those stimulating scenes appeared repeatedly in my dreams, I gradually came to appreciate the pleasure of masturbation. It became an uncontrollable habit; I masturbated almost every day, and this habit has continued to this day, even after my marriage.

Of course, my wife initially didn't understand my actions, thinking I wasn't satisfied with her. In reality, a very happy marriage isn't a sufficient condition for a man to stop masturbating. Later, after my repeated explanations and seeing the facts, she gradually understood and got used to it. Now, when she's in a bad mood or physically unable to, she sometimes tries to help me, and she's gotten used to it too. Especially during times when we're temporarily separated for various reasons, she understands how I cope with that loneliness and isn't too worried about me messing around outside. And that's probably true, so masturbation does indeed contribute to social stability.

Before, my family lived in a remote rural village in Anhui. The local people were very kind, and the women were very virtuous.

You can sense this from the gentle, melodious tones of Huangmei Opera. Of course, as a typical rural area, there are many reed fields and cornfields. So finding a place to masturbate isn't difficult. Masturbating in a reed field or cornfield is very relaxing, and sometimes you might even encounter unexpected scenes.

People from rural areas probably know that when rural women need to urinate while doing farm work, they often find a place nearby that they consider secluded to relieve themselves. Once, I went out to gather pig feed. While wandering around with my basket on my back, I happened to see a discarded newspaper with a still from the movie "Camel Xiangzi" on the roadside. In the picture, Tiger Girl was teasing Xiangzi. This ordinary still aroused me, and I went into a nearby cornfield. The towering corn made me feel safe and hidden.

In this environment, you can let loose. So, I boldly took off my pants in the cornfield and imagined a girl I liked in front of me. I imagined myself taking off her clothes one by one, then touching her breasts, lying on top of her, and simultaneously thrusting my hand, which was tightly gripping my penis, until I reached pleasure. It's safe to say that every man who masturbates (I don't know much about women) imagines a woman he likes or a scene from a book while masturbating.

That time, just as I unzipped my pants and took out my penis, ready to masturbate, I suddenly heard a noise nearby. I quickly pulled up my pants, squatted down, and looked around. I soon spotted a white buttock and red clothes swaying in the weeds not far away, near a reed ditch. It was obviously a woman. I felt an indescribable excitement. Who was it? Afraid of being discovered, I quickly lay down and stared intently at that white buttock until she finished and left. After a while, I pretended to have just come from somewhere to gather pig feed, and slowly walked back to the spot. I saw a puddle and some transparent water droplets hanging from the branches of wild grass. The soft soil there had been eroded into a small pit.

I casually looked around, and soon I noticed two women about 150 meters away, weeding beside a cornfield where there seemed to be some beans planted.

They were about 30 years old and from a nearby village. Judging from what I had just seen, it was the woman with the better figure, wearing a red shirt and gray pants. The slightly thinner woman next to her had a very alluring chest. I secretly stared at her gray pants for a long time, as if trying to see through to the white buttocks covered by them. That afternoon, I stayed in the cornfield, secretly observing them. I knew that if they didn't leave, they would need to relieve themselves again in a few hours, and I would have another chance to see their buttocks, or even more alluring places.

Sure enough, about an hour later, the thinner woman put down her tools and slowly walked towards the reed ditch. Based on my judgment, I quickly adjusted my position to have a clearer view and better security. Soon, she arrived near where the other woman had relieved herself. They probably thought this was the most secluded spot in the area, because the reeds and cornfield acted as a barrier. She had no idea that a young man was secretly watching her from behind a clump of low, dense willow trees not far away.

She calmly unbuckled her red belt, revealing a floral-patterned pair of panties. Instead of immediately taking them off, she first pulled down the waistband of her shorts, examining them closely, seemingly checking the appearance of her pubic hair. She then reached inside with her right hand and touched it, a satisfied expression on her face. A minute later, she pulled down her panties, reached to remove a few strands of grass that had touched her buttocks, and squatted down. The sound of water gushing out, and the fact that her buttocks, not particularly white but very clean and firm, immediately aroused me. Because of the low bushes to her side, I couldn't see her genitals clearly, but when she wiped her bottom at the end, I vaguely saw a wisp of dark hair.

Ever since then, whenever I see fields of corn and reeds, I think of women's white buttocks. It truly seems like the most beautiful sight in the world: a verdant backdrop, white buttocks, and those natural curves.

To this day, I'm still influenced by this, and I especially enjoy looking at women's buttocks. As far as I know, every man, besides his face, has a favorite part of a woman's body. Some like breasts, some like buttocks, and of course, some like long legs or feet. I like women's full buttocks, but not large ones. In Western countries, women's buttocks are mostly large, which is the main reason I dislike Western women. Later, after I understood the specifics of marriage, I thought that after I got married, I would definitely take my wife to a large cornfield, spread a cloth on the ground, strip naked, and have a good time touching and having sex. Of course, I've done this more than once before. I think every man has a desired place to make love with his beloved in a relaxed or tense environment. Some like to make love in the bedroom, under dim colored lights; some like to be intimate with their lovers on rainy days. Of

course, some like to have sex with women in the wild.

Later, I left home to attend high school in the county town. Because there were six classmates in one room, and the beds were bunk beds, the quality of the beds was poor. Masturbating in bed at night often caused the beds to make noise, making me very nervous, like I was committing a thief. So later I switched to masturbating in the toilet during evening self-study sessions. Luckily, the school toilets didn't have lights at night, so I would quietly sneak onto the squat toilet in the dark, take off my pants, and then use my right hand to thrust my penis back and forth in the dark until I ejaculated. Sometimes the sounds coming from the girls' toilet next door would make me fantasize.

This kind of life accompanied me for almost three years of high school. Back then, there were no women available for prostitution, and relationships between men and women were still considered a minor matter. So sometimes when I saw court notices sentencing rapists on the street, I would stop and read them carefully. Honestly, back then, such notices had an impact on us no less than a pornographic novel today.

During my second year of high school, one evening I went to the county cinema to watch a movie. I noticed a loose brick in the wall between the men's and women's restrooms; a gentle push would create a small gap. I suspected it wasn't my doing, but rather someone had deliberately made it. At that moment, I heard the sound of running water from next door, so I mustered my courage and pushed the door open. There, I saw a woman in her early twenties squatting, her face flushed, seemingly straining.

That night, on my way home, I masturbated through the fabric in my pocket, eventually ejaculating inside my pants.

After graduating from high school, I was admitted to a university in Nanjing, which wasn't too far from my hometown—only a five-hour bus ride. My father insisted on sending me to university. I thought it was a good idea; after all, he had worked in Nanjing before and was familiar with the area. My major was international finance. From the class roster held by the teacher at the registration office, I could see there were 38 people in my class, 16 of whom were girls. The hometown information written after their names told me that one of the girls was from the same county as me. Honestly, I immediately had a feeling that it was fate, that that girl would be my girlfriend, or even my future wife who would bear my children. At least I would have the chance to see her naked—I'm not kidding, that's what I thought at the time.

Coincidentally, just as I was imagining our future together, even picturing her lying naked in a cornfield making love with me, she suddenly appeared. It turned out she and I had come on the same bus, but unfortunately, I was sitting in front and hadn't noticed her along the way. So, after she registered, my father took the initiative to ask her if she was from a certain county. After confirming, we naturally felt like we were from the same hometown, even though we were far from home. She was fairly good-looking, not very tall, but her breasts were already showing some definition, and her buttocks were especially round, which was the main reason I wasn't disappointed.

After we received our dormitory keys and put down our luggage, my father was happy that I had company there (but I'm sure his idea of "company" was different from mine). He took us to a small restaurant on campus for dinner. Because I felt guilty and my father was there, I didn't dare look at her closely or say much during the meal. While we ate, my father said, "You two should care about each other and keep in touch if anything happens. You can also keep each other company when you go home." To me, his words sounded like he was encouraging me to pursue her. I don't know what she was thinking at the time. When I asked her later, she said she didn't think anything special and that it was just a normal conversation. I didn't really believe her. On the third day

, when my father went back, she came from the girls' dormitory to see him off, all the way to the bus stop for bus number 35 outside the school. After waving goodbye, I had my first chance to talk to her. But I didn't know what to say, so I talked about the university admission rate of her old high school, why she chose international finance as her major, and so on. Along the way, I would occasionally muster up my courage to stare at her. She seemed very shy, occasionally looking up at me, but mostly talking with her head down. Midway through the journey, a cyclist rushed up from behind, probably without braking. In a moment of panic, I pulled her towards the side of the road. She was wearing a short-sleeved shirt, so I bumped into her smooth skin. Afterwards, we didn't say a word for two minutes (she later told me she felt an electric shock, a tingling sensation on her arm). We only escaped the awkwardness when we reached the school store entrance, because we needed to buy some stationery.

The following semester, we didn't have many opportunities to talk. In class and at meals, we were always the boys from the same dorm, while the girls walked and sat separately. There wasn't much interaction between the boys and girls, but I always liked to secretly observe her in class; it seemed like my thoughts were always on her. When we changed classrooms after class, I also liked to follow behind the girls from her dorm and look at their butts. Honestly, I think her butt is the most beautiful in the world: not too big, not too small, not too flat, not too high, just right.

At night in the dorm, the guys liked to joke about the girls in our class. Since everyone knew we were from the same hometown, it seemed natural that everyone assumed she was my girlfriend. Lying in bed at night, almost every night I would masturbate using her as the object of my fantasy. The bunk beds in college were much better than in high school, so masturbating was relatively safe. Back then, everyone used mosquito nets, so sometimes I would lie inside the net without a blanket and masturbate, often spraying semen onto the top of the net.

Over time, light yellow stains would appear. Later, I changed to holding toilet paper in one hand and masturbating with the other, placing the paper on the glans just before climax. Of course, sometimes it would still spray elsewhere. In short, the blankets and mosquito nets I brought to university had many light yellow stains. Since everyone was in the same boat, my classmates understood and no one was surprised. I'm not exaggerating when I say that if I let my hand go during masturbation, the semen could spray more than 5 meters away. So now, when I see semen almost flowing out of my penis, I often miss my old ability. That's why I think men should get married between 20 and 25.

Because I didn't have many opportunities to see her normally, I looked forward to the holidays after two months of school, because then we could go back together. After much agonizing waiting, winter break finally arrived. Since there was only one bus a day to our county, we naturally bought tickets for that bus. The night before we left, I was excited all night, imagining all sorts of schemes on the way, the goal of which, of course, was to take advantage of her, preferably to have sex (at the time, I thought this was just a communist ideal).

When we boarded the bus around 2 p.m., I realized that many of my plans were impossible. Because it was winter and we were wearing thick cotton-padded clothes, there was no chance of touching her in any place like during the school term. So, I pretended to be very serious the whole way, telling funny stories about the boys in our class and commenting on our teachers. I didn't have a chance to say anything out of line, only occasionally touching her foot, which she didn't seem to want to stomp away. By the time we reached the county town, it was nearly 8 p.m., and completely dark. The buses to our township had long since stopped running. A strange excitement welled up inside me; the darkness reminded me of a bed, of the alluring cornfield, and of the village woman I'd seen there—her white buttocks and the tuft of dark pubic hair.

I paid for a meal with her at a small restaurant, and then we started looking for a guesthouse. At that time, many guesthouses were privately owned and rarely had any guests. So when we finally found a place to stay at a privately owned restaurant near the county power supply bureau, we were the only two guests there. The family, surnamed Ma, consisted of an elderly couple in their sixties. Their two sons both worked at the power supply bureau and lived in the nearby residential area for the bureau's employees. After the children moved out, the vacant house was left unused and turned into a guesthouse. The conditions were decent, as the children sometimes recommended it to their clients.

Aunt Ma assumed we were a young couple, so she booked a room for us in the backyard without registering us and brought us a kettle of hot water. The room had two beds and cost 16 yuan in total. I felt embarrassed and wanted to explain, but after glancing at her and seeing she didn't speak, I muttered a few words and fell silent. She was clearly embarrassed, but strangely, she didn't explicitly object to only having one room (later, she said she hadn't thought about anything at the time, but I don't know if that's true?). After

Aunt Ma left, we fell silent again, unsure of what to say. Luckily, there was a copy of *Reader's Digest* (now supposedly called *Reader*) on the table. She picked it up, flipped through it, and suddenly opened a colored page to me, asking, "What do you think of this woman's temperament?" I looked at the picture; it showed a country girl sitting under a tree reading something, with a basket beside her and a cow perched on the tree. I pretended to be very serious and studied it carefully for a while before saying, "Not bad, but…" I wanted to say that she was still far inferior to city girls, but the words stuck in my throat because she was also a country girl, and it would upset her. She seemed oblivious to what I meant and asked, "But what?" In a moment of impulsiveness, I blurted out, "But her temperament isn't as good as yours."

Although it was blatant flattery, she still seemed pleased. She quickly glanced up at me, then looked down and asked, "Really?" Of course, all I could say was, "Really!" She didn't say anything more, continuing to flip through a magazine. Clearly, her mind was in turmoil. I was also excited by my boldness, glancing sideways at her long hair and her hands covered in chilblains. After a while, the scene in the cornfield kept replaying in my mind, imagining her white buttocks, picturing her naked.

In a moment of excitement, I reached out and touched her hand, asking, "Why are your hands covered in chilblains?" She looked up at me and said, "It's like this every year." This time, she didn't look away. We stared at each other for less than a minute before she showed a hint of panic and said, "Can't you see that one of my eyes is bigger than the other?" I seemed encouraged and quickly said no, let me take a closer look. As I spoke, I pulled her over from the other bed and sat her down next to me. She lifted her face and looked at me expectantly.

I started to panic under her gaze. In my panic, I pressed my lips to her cool face. She didn't move, letting me kiss her. After a while, I moved my lips to hers. She didn't open them at first, but soon she reacted, opening her mouth and sticking her tongue into mine. I started to hold her tightly with both hands, as if trying to feel her breasts through her thick cotton clothes. In the midst of the kissing, my left hand unconsciously began to touch her crotch. Although it felt flat there, she still trembled quickly under my gentle touch and suddenly squeezed her legs together. My hand, which was being squeezed tightly, felt the soft, warm sensation on her thighs.

She seemed to go limp and quickly slumped onto the bed. I followed suit, pulling out my left hand and stroking her flat, slightly protruding vulva through her pants. Soon, I slipped my hand under her coat and into her breasts, kneading them through her bra. She became even more agitated, her legs unconsciously parting as they had been tightly closed. I gently unbuttoned her coat and pulled her bra out from her waistband. Then, I reached under her bra and, pressing my hand against her burning skin, touched her breasts and nipples again. Suddenly, she bit my tongue, her body stiffening, and a flush appeared on her face…

I whispered in her ear, “May I see your naked body?” She didn’t speak, but simply nodded slightly. So I took out my hand and told her to take off her clothes. After she took off her cotton coat, she gave me a mysterious smile, unfolded the blanket on the bed, and slipped under the covers in her pants, saying to me, "Turn your face away." I turned my face to the other side, and after a while, she said from under the covers, "Okay." I hurriedly turned around, slowly lifted a corner of the blanket, and saw that she was only wearing a bra. I clumsily pushed it off her breasts, revealing her not-too-high but very alluring breasts.

I lovingly and gently caressed them. She stared at me, then took my right hand and placed it on her left nipple, asking me, "Is it beautiful?" I nodded, brought my mouth to it, and gently, softly licked the pink nipple, then opened my mouth wide, wishing I could take the entire breast into my mouth at once. She trembled slightly.

Then she slowly guided me to kiss her right breast. After a while, I pulled back the blanket, revealing her white shorts and slender thighs. I treated her like a work of art, reaching for that mysterious place. She willingly parted her legs, and I caressed her through the shorts for a while before slowly pulling them down, revealing sparse pubic hair and plump flesh. My penis was already erect, but I still controlled it. I gently parted her labia majora, carefully examining the clitoris I had longed for. It wasn't as long as I had imagined, but it still trembled slightly at the slightest touch. I inserted a finger into that mysterious opening; the warmth inside excited me even more. I tried to push it in deeper, as if trying to know just how deep it was. Finally, I touched something—perhaps what people often call the entrance to the uterus.

I secretly observed her expression; it was complex, whether she was enjoying it or in pain, I couldn't tell. Her eyes, not completely closed, seemed to be peeking at me. I whispered, "You're so beautiful. You're a true work of art."

Suddenly, she reached her right hand towards my crotch, grabbed my penis, and laughed, saying, "You're really good, so hard!" Stimulated, I quickly pulled down my pants, slipped under the covers, and made her lie face down. I rubbed my penis and pubic hair against her round, soft buttocks, then turned her over and slowly, deeply inserted my penis into her long-awaited hole. In my heart, I shouted, "Ah! I've finally become a real man!" (To be continued, please read the first part: Cornfield)

Although I was prepared and afraid that her hymen would break and cause pain, I did not rush to penetrate her. But the process told me that penetration was not very difficult. Perhaps our foreplay was sufficient (of course, this is my conclusion now, I did not understand these things at the time), or perhaps she was well prepared. In any case, although I used a little force at the entrance, the swollen glans still squeezed in without much effort and slowly reached the bottom. That feeling is absolutely indescribable. So, experienced gentlemen and ladies, when you read this, you may have to close your eyes and recall your first time. Perhaps then you can feel that wonderful experience (of course, if you gave your first time to a prostitute, that is another matter).

For those without sexual experience, don't rush. You can leave this suspense for now. Remember: when that day comes, don't let victory cloud your judgment. Focus and fully experience that indescribable feeling: warm, tight, tingling, numbing... oh my god, I really can't explain it... Because penetration was easier, I even wondered if she wasn't a virgin anymore.

But I was so magnanimous back then, thinking that even if she wasn't a virgin, I would still love her. But the next day, accidentally seeing two drops of blood on the sheets still excited me, because for me, this was ultimately better news. She later told me that she didn't experience the pleasure she had originally expected this time because she had read some magazines beforehand and knew that there should be a feeling of euphoria.

Of course, afterwards, we had orgasms almost every time we had sex, and 90% of the time we reached them simultaneously because I had learned some control over it. I could ejaculate within 5 seconds of her saying, "You're about to cum," and my penis would involuntarily expand in her vagina more than ten times until she was so overwhelmed that she bit me, scratched me, and hurt me.

That day, we barely slept all night. First, she was worried about whether she would get pregnant, which made her anxious and fearful for a long time. Later, thanks to a book I had read before, which said that the seven days before and after a woman's period are her safe period, she became excited with some skepticism, because her period had only ended two days prior. Of course, later events proved us right, and this experience brought us a lot of fun later on, because we knew when we had to use a condom and when we could go in naked.

Later that night, we barely slept, just excitedly chatting and caressing each other. She nestled in my arms, tracing the lines of my chest with her fingers, and said, "You must be good to me from now on, you can't lie to me." Of course, I agreed without hesitation, promising, "Don't worry, I'll always love you." It was then that I realized my usually unbelievable words had suddenly become useful. Of course, experience now tells me that expecting a man to sleep with only one woman his whole life is as impossible as expecting him to give birth, but expecting a man to love only one woman his whole life is entirely believable. Because a man sleeping with one woman and loving one woman are two completely different things.

So when I looked back, I realized I hadn't lied to her, because I always loved her and was always good to her, though of course I sometimes cheated on her. So, I'd like to remind some ladies: don't let your husband or boyfriend promise to only have sex with you; that's often unrealistic and meaningless. Loosening your control over his penis can sometimes help you win his love.

The next day, around 5 pm, we lingered a little longer, because the time before our breakup was getting closer. Suddenly, we no longer liked the holiday and hoped school would start immediately so we could see each other every day. But… in the end, we agreed to meet again in the county town at 10 am on the second day of the Lunar New Year, right in front of this guesthouse, no matter what.

It was a long vacation; every minute felt like a month to me. There were no telephones, let alone cell phones or internet access. So now I often wonder: are the internet and cell phones a blessing or a curse for couples in love?

They gained so much, and they no longer experienced the excruciating torment we went through—a blissful torment that, in retrospect, is incredibly painful.

After school started, we pretended nothing had happened. It was only later, a moment of impulsiveness, that exposed our relationship. A classmate from Guangdong, who lived next door, was commenting on the girls in our class in our dorm. He actually said her butt was beautiful. I didn't say anything. Another classmate jokingly asked, "How do you know? Have you seen it?" He said, "Yes!" The classmate then asked, "What proof do you have?" To my surprise, that guy then said, "I really have seen her butt. She has a birthmark on her left butt."

I knew he was talking nonsense, but I still couldn't help but punch him and kick him out of our dorm. From then on, it seemed like the whole class automatically stopped talking about her in the boys' dorm, at least when I was around. The girls also seemed to sense our relationship. Under these circumstances, our relationship finally went from being a secret to being public. At that time, the school was very strict about dating, so it inevitably had a negative impact. Her grades were excellent throughout her four years, and she could have been directly recommended for graduate school upon graduation, but her name wasn't on the list. The teachers wouldn't say the reason, but perhaps it was because we were dating.

This incident was a huge blow to her. She didn't pursue graduate studies and had to return to our registered residence area to find work. She got a job at the Bank of China in our county, working in the newly established foreign exchange management department. I, on the other hand, got a job at the Agricultural Bank of China in our county, and in my second week after reporting for duty, I was assigned to a branch as the deputy director of the business department. At first, I would travel to the county seat once a week to see her. She shared a room with another girl from the bank at a guesthouse next to the county waterworks. That girl also had a boyfriend, supposedly the son of the deputy secretary of the county party committee. So we didn't dare offend her. When I visited, she would come out, as I felt awkward staying in the room, afraid of upsetting the other girl.

A few weeks later, she started coming to the countryside to see me on Saturday afternoons. At the time, I had a large room all to myself upstairs in the sales office. The streets in my village were very short, with farmland just a few hundred meters to the east and west. The corn hadn't been harvested yet, so we would go for walks after dinner, often ending up in the nearby cornfields. Whenever I saw a cornfield, I was reminded of the white buttocks of farm women I'd seen in cornfields before, and that excited me. I started to trick her into going into the cornfield to find some ears of corn to cook, and she believed me, following me into the cornfield, to a place far from the roadside.

Many people may have had this experience: when a man and woman are in an environment where they feel somewhat isolated from the outside world, they are most likely to develop feelings, such as in a closed bedroom or a closed car. So when we got to the cornfield, when I grabbed her breasts from behind, she grabbed my penis. We leaned in and kissed, caressed each other, and naturally loosened our belts. At that time, Zhang Yimou's "Red Sorghum" had just won an award, and the memory of the sorghum field scene in the movie drove us crazy.

I trampled down a few corn stalks, then took off my coat and spread it on the ground. I slowly took it off, slowly touched, slowly kissed, kissing every part of her body. Then, accompanied by the rustling of the wind, I had sex with her, thrusting, pumping, and getting excited...

After that one time, she became addicted. Almost every time we made love, she liked to go to the cornfield. After we finished, she would urinate there, finding it indescribably pleasurable. After the corn was harvested, there were hardly any tall crops left in the fields, so we had to do it in our dorm room. Even so, she always liked me to first describe the environment of a cornfield, and then we would pretend to be in a dense cornfield before slowly starting our lovemaking… You could say the cornfield became our most beautiful place to make love.

I remember two weeks before the corn harvest, many corn leaves had turned yellow, and the cornfield was becoming sparse, so the concealment was much worse. The weather hadn't completely cooled down yet. When we came to a cornfield again after dinner, took off our pants, and started doing it, we suddenly heard voices, seemingly very close. A woman asked: "When is your wife coming back next month?" One of the men said, "Number 5, I'm not sure. What, are you scared?" The woman laughed, "Am I scared, or are you scared?" The man said, "What am I scared of? As long as you're not scared, I can fuck you a hundred times, and she won't know. Look here, it's so safe, the ground is our bed, the sky is our blanket.

You can do it without worry. Come on, turn your ass towards me, let me do it from behind again." The woman said, "Slow down, last time you did it from behind, I felt uncomfortable for several days afterward." Soon, we heard the slapping sound of stomachs and buttocks hitting each other.

We were so scared that we didn't dare to say anything more, we just quietly inserted our penises into her vagina and moved silently. However, that time, I found that there was a lot of water in her vagina, and I enjoyed it very much. After the two people nearby left, I mimicked the man and said, "Come on, turn your ass towards me, let me do it from behind." She laughed and whispered, "Be gentle, you made me uncomfortable for days last time when you did it from behind." We excitedly did it again from behind, and she had her first double orgasm. When we later reminisced and compared our experiences, she surprisingly put this time of sex at the top of her "most memorable" list. I expressed my understanding.

Life at the bank was monotonous, but we were very fulfilled. Because we didn't work in the same unit, we hadn't been allocated housing after three years. The Agricultural Bank said that if we wanted a house, the rural branch could provide one, but we didn't want to settle down in the countryside. Later, we thought it didn't matter, because all we lacked was that piece of paper.

So we never went through with the marriage formalities, and the people around us didn't mind because they already accepted our marital relationship. This continued for six years. Then one day, I suddenly thought about going abroad. A college classmate came to our city on a business trip and made a detour to see us. He told me that several people from our class had immigrated to Canada and New Zealand. I then started to have the idea of going abroad...

In February 1995, we got our marriage certificate, obtained passports with the help of a relative at the county public security bureau, and submitted the relevant documents. In June, we received a notification from the Beijing office of the New Zealand Immigration Service that our immigration application had been approved.

At that time, we had mixed feelings because going abroad was a dream we had never dared to imagine for many years, and now it had suddenly become a reality. Of course, we were overjoyed. But what would the future hold? Many relatives said it was an isolated island, an agricultural country, and wouldn't be much better than back home. These comments made us worried, but since it was already approved, we figured we might as well treat it as a vacation and see for ourselves first. So we exchanged all our savings, plus gifts from relatives and friends, into US dollars, totaling over $6,000. Then we went through the leave-of-absence procedures at our workplaces and flew to Auckland.

Auckland's airport wasn't large, but it was entirely carpeted, giving you a VIP feel. Of course, I later learned that finding a room without carpet in New Zealand is probably harder than finding one with carpet in China. The airport exit had a parking lot with thousands of cars. For some reason, I instantly fell in love with this country. She, however, felt the opposite, finding it lacking in vibrancy, like a rural area in China. Later, I asked her if it was because New Zealand didn't have cornfields, and she said that seemed to be a factor.

We rented a house in the Newmarket area, and in this completely new environment, we began a new round of passionate lovemaking, especially since we now had a marriage certificate, which felt more secure. So when I'm having sex with her, I often yell, "I'm going to fuck you! It's my right under the law!" She says, "Don't be so conceited. New Zealand has a crime of marital rape." When I mention rape, I say, "I'm going to rape you." Sometimes she pretends to resist and struggles. Once, I even deliberately tore open one of her already ripped underwear at the crotch, pretending to be very violent, then I held her hands down, spread her legs, and inserted my penis into her vagina, thrusting rapidly. She slowly twisted beneath me, seemingly trying to break free of my control, but we cooperated very well, the force and the method ensuring just the right amount of pleasure, making us both feel that this sex life was hard-won and cherished it even more. So now, sometimes when she has sexual desires, she often says, "Honey, rape me."

Sometimes I say, "I don't have any criminal motive right now." Later I asked her, "You women are so strange, do you really like being raped?" She said no, only when a woman is raped by a man she likes will she be happy! Ah, I see!

A month later, I heard in the language class that we could apply for subsidies, so we quickly received them. Life started to get back on track, without any worries. The more relaxed a person is, the higher the quality of their sex life. So I felt that our sex life these past few months was like when we first started dating—we did it every day, and we liked to try different things. In New Zealand, there are some adult TV programs that you can only secretly watch in China after midnight, and sometimes we like to wait for that time, watching TV while we make love.

In short, as far as I remember, I once bought 100 condoms at once, and they were used up in just over two months. Our room was always littered with condoms on the table and bed. Luckily, no friends came over, so our sex life was relaxed and stress-free. Nearly a year later, she started university, studying finance. She didn't find it too difficult, and it was then that I realized how brilliant our choice of international finance ten years ago had been. Her year of study ended quickly, and after graduation, she found a job at a bank with an annual salary of 30,000 yuan. It wasn't much, but we were very satisfied.

During holidays, we sometimes like to drive out and have fun, leaving traces of our love everywhere—on remote meadows, in dense forests, beside clear streams, and among fragrant flowerbeds. I remember once in a park south of Auckland, a young couple was secretly embracing in a grove of trees. Their trousers were down and their full buttocks were quite arousing. Maybe they didn't notice us, or maybe they didn't care at all. In any case, they were having sex with abandon. We walked slowly along the path beside them, secretly watching. That's when I realized that watching other people have sex in person is completely different from watching porn. In another part of that grove, we reenacted the scene we had just witnessed. The difference was that when we noticed someone coming, we quickly pulled up our trousers because we weren't used to exposing our buttocks to others.

In 2000, due to changes in New Zealand immigration policies, we decided to move from New Zealand to Melbourne, Australia, and start planning for our first child. Unexpectedly, our first child was twins, born in November of that year. Because of her advanced age, she suffered a lot during childbirth, experiencing significant bleeding. The doctor even asked me what I would do if there were any complications. I thought: "It's obvious! As long as we're alive, we can always save each other." Of course, I would save the mother!

At that moment, I realized how incredibly fortunate it is to truly love another person! It's more important than being loved by others!! I often see many young Chinese students living together here. They are, I would say, happy, but sometimes I wonder, can these kids, drawn together by sex, ultimately transform their sexual attraction into genuine, unforgettable love? When a man can maintain sexual interest in a woman for many years, I can say that they have developed a deeper level of love. My

wife took our child back to China last month to visit our parents, so I've had some free time lately, which is why I've finally found the time to write about our unforgettable experiences over the years. Before posting, I told her about my plan on the phone. She initially objected, mainly because she was worried that some people from our hometown abroad might easily find out about us, causing negative repercussions. I told her it was nothing! Because I didn't mention our names or the specific place, but everything comes from our real lives. Truth is also a kind of beauty, and in the end, she agreed.

I know many readers will read this as erotic literature, which is to my surprise, because sex is one of the most important things in everyone's life; there's no need to hide it. Everyone who comes to this forum is definitely a normal person in their daily life; only thugs and rapists like sex. Normal people like it!!

Otherwise, I wouldn't be posting my article here. I have two purposes: through reminiscing, I want to find that wonderful feeling in moments of loneliness and add fun to my life; secondly, I also hope that we readers can have a happy and sweet sex life, because it also needs communication, learning, and, more importantly, genuine creation! As long as you and your spouse are willing, and it doesn't affect others, feel free to use your imagination to create a high-quality sex experience for yourselves. I sincerely hope you will share your experiences with me and everyone else. Thank you!

When I was 18, I dreamt for the first time of a girl wearing a soft, loose-fitting cotton dress. In the breeze, the round, beautiful curves of her buttocks aroused me in the dream, resulting in my first nocturnal emission.

When I reached between my legs and touched that sticky thing, I felt both nervous and excited. Although I didn't understand what was going on, as the frequency of nocturnal emissions increased and those stimulating scenes in my dreams appeared repeatedly, I gradually came to appreciate the pleasure of masturbation. It became an uncontrollable habit; I masturbated almost every day, and this has continued into my married life.

Of course, my wife initially didn't understand my actions, thinking I wasn't satisfied with her. However, a very happy marriage isn't a sufficient condition for a man to stop masturbating. Later, with my repeated explanations and the facts she witnessed, she gradually understood and got used to it. Now, when she's feeling down or physically unwell, she sometimes tries to help me, and it's become a regular occurrence. Especially during times when my husband and I are temporarily separated for various reasons, she understands how I cope with that loneliness and isn't too worried about me messing around. And that's generally true, so masturbation has indeed contributed to social stability.

Before, my family lived in a remote rural village in Anhui. The local people were very kind, and the women were very virtuous.

You can sense this from the gentle, tender tones of Huangmei Opera. Of course, as a typical rural village, there were many reed fields and cornfields, so finding a place to masturbate wasn't difficult. Masturbating in a reed field or cornfield can be very relaxing, and sometimes you might even encounter unexpected scenes.

People from rural areas probably know that when rural women need to urinate while doing farm work, they often find a secluded spot nearby. Once, I went out to gather pig feed, carrying my basket, and happened to see a discarded newspaper with a still from the movie "Camel Xiangzi" on the roadside. In the picture, Tiger Girl was teasing Xiangzi. This ordinary still aroused me, so I went into a nearby cornfield. The corn, as tall as a person, made you feel safe and secluded.

In this environment, you can let yourself go, so I boldly took off my pants in the cornfield and imagined a girl I liked in front of me, how I would take off her clothes one by one, and then start touching her breasts, lying on top of her, while rapidly moving my hand that was tightly gripping my penis until I reached pleasure. It can be said that every man who masturbates (I don't know much about women) must imagine a woman he likes or a scene from a book when he masturbates.

That time, just as I unzipped my pants and took out my penis, ready to do it, I suddenly heard a noise nearby. Startled, I quickly pulled up my pants, squatted down, and looked around. I soon spotted a white buttock and red clothes swaying in the weeds not far away, near a reed ditch. It was clearly a woman, and I felt an indescribable excitement. Who was it? Afraid of being discovered, I quickly lay down and stared intently at the white buttock until she finished and left. After a while, I pretended to have just come from somewhere to gather pig feed and slowly walked back to the spot. I saw a puddle and some transparent water droplets hanging from the branches of wild grass. The soft soil there had been eroded into a small pit.

I casually glanced around, and soon spotted two women about 150 meters away, weeding near a cornfield where some beans seemed to be growing.

They were around 30 years old, from a nearby village. Judging from what I'd seen, it was the woman with the better figure, wearing a red top and gray pants. The slightly thinner woman next to her had a very alluring bust. I secretly stared at her gray pants for a long time, as if trying to see through to her white buttocks. That afternoon, I stayed in that cornfield, secretly observing them, because I knew that if they didn't leave, they would need to relieve themselves again in a few hours, and I would definitely have another chance to see their buttocks, or even more alluring places.

Just as I expected, about an hour later, the thinner woman put down her tools and slowly walked towards the reed ditch. Based on my judgment, I quickly adjusted my position to have a clearer view and better security. Soon, she arrived near where the other woman had relieved herself; likely, in their minds, this was the most secluded spot in the area, thanks to the reeds and cornfields acting as a barrier. She had no idea that a young man was secretly watching her from behind a clump of low, dense willow trees not far away.

She calmly unbuckled her red belt, revealing a floral-patterned pair of panties. Instead of immediately taking them off, she first pulled down the waistband of her shorts, examining them closely, seemingly checking the appearance of her pubic hair. She then reached inside with her right hand and touched it, a satisfied expression on her face. A minute later, she pulled down her panties, reached to remove a few strands of grass that had touched her buttocks, and squatted down. The sound of water gushing out, and the fact that her buttocks, not particularly white but very clean and firm, immediately aroused me. Because of the low bushes to her side, I couldn't see her genitals clearly, but when she wiped her bottom at the end, I vaguely saw a wisp of dark hair.

Ever since then, whenever I see fields of corn and reeds, I think of women's white buttocks. It truly seems like the most beautiful sight in the world: a verdant backdrop, white buttocks, and those natural curves.

To this day, I'm still influenced by this, and I especially enjoy looking at women's buttocks. As far as I know, every man, besides his face, has a favorite part of a woman's body. Some like breasts, some like buttocks, and of course, some like long legs or feet. I like women's full buttocks, but not large ones. In Western countries, women's buttocks are mostly large, which is the main reason I dislike Western women. Later, after I understood the specifics of marriage, I thought that after I got married, I would definitely take my wife to a large cornfield, spread a cloth on the ground, strip naked, and have a good time touching and having sex. Of course, I've done this more than once before. I think every man has a desired place to make love with his beloved in a relaxed or tense environment. Some like to make love in the bedroom, under dim colored lights; some like to be intimate with their lovers on rainy days. Of

course, some like to have sex with women in the wild.

Later, I left home to attend high school in the county town. Because there were six classmates in one room, and the beds were bunk beds, the quality of the beds was poor. Masturbating in bed at night often caused the beds to make noise, making me very nervous, like I was committing a thief. So later I switched to masturbating in the toilet during evening self-study sessions. Luckily, the school toilets didn't have lights at night, so I would quietly sneak onto the squat toilet in the dark, take off my pants, and then use my right hand to thrust my penis back and forth in the dark until I ejaculated. Sometimes the sounds coming from the girls' toilet next door would make me fantasize.

This kind of life accompanied me for almost three years of high school. Back then, there were no women available for prostitution, and relationships between men and women were still considered a minor matter. So sometimes when I saw court notices sentencing rapists on the street, I would stop and read them carefully. Honestly, back then, such notices had an impact on us no less than a pornographic novel today.

During my second year of high school, one evening I went to the county cinema to watch a movie. I noticed a loose brick in the wall between the men's and women's restrooms; a gentle push would create a small gap. I suspected it wasn't my doing, but rather someone had deliberately made it. At that moment, I heard the sound of running water from next door, so I mustered my courage and pushed the door open. There, I saw a woman in her early twenties squatting, her face flushed, seemingly straining.

That night, on my way home, I masturbated through the fabric in my pocket, eventually ejaculating inside my pants.

After graduating high school, I was admitted to a university in Nanjing, not too far from my hometown—only a five-hour bus ride—so my father insisted on sending me there. I thought it was a good idea; after all, he had worked in Nanjing before and was quite familiar with the area. My major was International Finance. From the class roster held by the teacher at the registration office, I could see that there were 38 people in our class, 16 of whom were girls. The hometown information written after their names told me that one of the girls was from the same county as me. To be honest, I immediately had a feeling that it was fate, that that girl would be my girlfriend, or even my future wife who would bear my children. At least I would have the chance to see her naked. I'm not kidding, that's what I thought at the time.

Coincidentally, just as I was imagining our future together, even picturing her lying naked in a cornfield making love with me, she suddenly appeared. It turned out she and I had come on the same bus, but unfortunately, I was sitting in front and hadn't noticed her along the way. So, after she registered, my father took the initiative to ask her if she was from a certain county. After confirming, we naturally felt like we were from the same hometown, even though we were far from home. She was fairly good-looking, not very tall, but her breasts were already showing some definition, and her buttocks were especially round, which was the main reason I wasn't disappointed.

After we received our dormitory keys and put down our luggage, my father was happy that I had company there (but I'm sure his idea of "company" was different from mine). He took us to a small restaurant on campus for dinner. Because I felt guilty and my father was there, I didn't dare look at her closely or say much during the meal. While we ate, my father said, "You two should care about each other and keep in touch if anything happens. You can also keep each other company when you go home." To me, his words sounded like he was encouraging me to pursue her. I don't know what she was thinking at the time. When I asked her later, she said she didn't think anything special and that it was just a normal conversation. I didn't really believe her. On the third day

, when my father went back, she came from the girls' dormitory to see him off, all the way to the bus stop for bus number 35 outside the school. After waving goodbye, I had my first chance to talk to her. But I didn't know what to say, so I talked about the university admission rate of her old high school, why she chose international finance as her major, and so on. Along the way, I would occasionally muster up my courage to stare at her. She seemed very shy, occasionally looking up at me, but mostly talking with her head down. Midway through the journey, a cyclist rushed up from behind, probably without braking. In a moment of panic, I pulled her towards the side of the road. She was wearing a short-sleeved shirt, so I bumped into her smooth skin. Afterwards, we didn't say a word for two minutes (she later told me she felt an electric shock, a tingling sensation on her arm). We only escaped the awkwardness when we reached the school store entrance, because we needed to buy some stationery.

The following semester, we didn't have many opportunities to talk. In class and at meals, we were always the boys from the same dorm, while the girls walked and sat separately. There wasn't much interaction between the boys and girls, but I always liked to secretly observe her in class; it seemed like my thoughts were always on her. When we changed classrooms after class, I also liked to follow behind the girls from her dorm and look at their butts. Honestly, I think her butt is the most beautiful in the world: not too big, not too small, not too flat, not too high, just right.

At night in the dorm, the guys liked to joke about the girls in our class. Since everyone knew we were from the same hometown, it seemed natural that everyone assumed she was my girlfriend. Lying in bed at night, almost every night I would masturbate using her as the object of my fantasy. The bunk beds in college were much better than in high school, so masturbating was relatively safe. Back then, everyone used mosquito nets, so sometimes I would lie inside the net without a blanket and masturbate, often spraying semen onto the top of the net.

Over time, light yellow stains would appear. Later, I changed to holding toilet paper in one hand and masturbating with the other, placing the paper on the glans just before climax. Of course, sometimes it would still spray elsewhere. In short, the blankets and mosquito nets I brought to university had many light yellow stains. Since everyone was about the same, my classmates understood and no one was surprised. I'm not exaggerating when I say that if I let my hand go during masturbation, the semen could spray more than 5 meters away. So now, when I see semen almost flowing out of my penis, I often miss my old ability. That's why I think men should get married between 20 and 25.

Because I didn't have many opportunities to see her during the school year, I looked forward to the holidays after two months of school, because that's when we could go back together. After much agonizing waiting, winter break finally arrived. Since there was only one bus a day to our county, we naturally bought tickets for the same bus. The night before we left, I was excited all night, imagining all sorts of schemes for the journey, the goal of course being to take advantage of her, ideally having sex (at the time, I thought this was just a communist ideal).

When I got on the bus around 2 PM, I realized many of my assumptions were impossible. Wearing thick winter clothes, it was nothing like the beginning of the school year when I could touch her private parts. So, I kept a straight face the whole way, telling stories about the boys in my class and commenting on our teachers. I didn't say anything inappropriate, only occasionally touching her foot, which she didn't seem to want to stomp away. By the time we reached the county town, it was almost 8 PM, completely dark, and the buses to our village had long since stopped running. At that moment, a strange excitement welled up inside me. The darkness reminded me of my bed, of the alluring cornfield, and of the village woman I'd seen there—her white buttocks and the tuft of dark pubic hair.

I paid for a meal with her at a small restaurant, and then we started looking for a guesthouse to stay in. Back then, many guesthouses were privately owned and rarely had any guests. So when we finally found a place to stay at a privately owned restaurant near the county power supply bureau, we were the only two guests there. The family's surname was Ma; they were an elderly couple in their sixties. Their two sons both worked at the power supply bureau and lived in the bureau's residential area not far away. After their children moved out, the vacant house was no longer needed, so they turned it into a guesthouse. The conditions were decent, because sometimes their children would introduce guests from their workplaces to stay there.

Mrs. Ma thought we were a young couple, so she didn't register us but gave us a room in the backyard and brought us a kettle of hot water. The room had two beds and cost 16 yuan in total. I felt embarrassed and wanted to explain, but after glancing at her and seeing that she didn't speak, I muttered a couple of things and fell silent. She was clearly embarrassed, but strangely, she didn't explicitly object to only booking one room (later, she said she wasn't thinking about anything at the time, but I don't know if that's true?).

After the older woman left, we fell into silence again, not knowing what to say. Luckily, there was a copy of *Reader's Digest* (now supposedly called *Reader*) on the table. She picked it up, flipped through it, and suddenly opened a colored page to me, asking, "What do you think of this woman's demeanor?" I looked at the picture and saw a country girl sitting under a tree reading a book, with a basket beside her and a cow perched on the tree. I pretended to be very serious and examined her carefully for a while before saying, "Not bad, but..." I wanted to say that she was still far inferior to city girls, but the words stuck in my throat because she was also a country girl, and it would upset her. She didn't seem to realize anything and asked me, "But what?" On impulse, I said, "But she doesn't have your temperament."

Although it was blatant flattery, she was still pleased. She quickly looked up at me, then lowered her head and asked, "Really?" Of course, all I could say was, "Really!" She didn't say anything more, continuing to flip through the magazine. Clearly, her mind was somewhat troubled. I was also excited by my own boldness, glancing sideways at her long hair and her hands covered in chilblains. After a while, the scene in the cornfield kept replaying in my mind, imagining her white buttocks and what she would look like naked.

In my excitement, I actually reached out and touched her hand, asking, "Why are your hands covered in chilblains?" She looked up at me and said it was like this every year. This time she didn't look away from my gaze. We stared at each other for less than a minute before she showed a little panic and said to me, "Can you tell that one of my eyes is big and the other is small?" I seemed encouraged and quickly said no, let me look closely. As I spoke, I pulled her from the other bed to sit with me. She raised her face, looking at me expectantly.

I started to panic under her gaze. In my panic, I pressed my lips to her cool face. She didn't move, letting me kiss her. After a while, I moved my lips to hers. She didn't open them at first, but soon she reacted, opening her mouth and sticking her tongue into mine. I started to hold her tightly with both hands, as if trying to feel her breasts through her thick cotton clothes. In the midst of the kissing, my left hand unconsciously began to touch her crotch. Although it felt flat there, she still trembled quickly under my gentle touch and suddenly squeezed her legs together. My hand, which was being squeezed tightly, felt the soft, warm sensation on her thighs.

She seemed to go limp and quickly slumped onto the bed. I followed suit, pulling out my left hand and stroking her flat, slightly protruding vulva through her pants. Soon, I slipped my hand under her coat and into her breasts, kneading them through her bra. She became even more agitated, her legs unconsciously parting as they had been tightly closed. I gently unbuttoned her coat and pulled her bra out from her waistband. Then, I reached under her bra and, pressing my hand against her burning skin, touched her breasts and nipples again. Suddenly, she bit my tongue, her body stiffening, and a flush appeared on her face…

I whispered in her ear, “May I see your naked body?” She didn’t speak, but simply nodded slightly. So I took out my hand and told her to take off her clothes. After she took off her cotton coat, she gave me a mysterious smile, unfolded the blanket on the bed, and slipped under the covers in her pants, saying to me, "Turn your face away." I turned my face to the other side, and after a while, she said from under the covers, "Okay." I hurriedly turned around, slowly lifted a corner of the blanket, and saw that she was only wearing a bra. I clumsily pushed it off her breasts, revealing her not-too-high but very alluring breasts.

I lovingly and gently caressed them. She stared at me, then took my right hand and placed it on her left nipple, asking me, "Is it beautiful?" I nodded, brought my mouth to it, and gently, softly licked the pink nipple, then opened my mouth wide, wishing I could take the entire breast into my mouth at once. She trembled slightly.

Then she slowly guided me to kiss her right breast. After a while, I pulled back the blanket, revealing her white shorts and slender thighs. I treated her like a work of art, reaching for that mysterious place. She willingly parted her legs, and I caressed her through the shorts for a while before slowly pulling them down, revealing sparse pubic hair and plump flesh. My penis was already erect, but I still controlled it. I gently parted her labia majora, carefully examining the clitoris I had longed for. It wasn't as long as I had imagined, but it still trembled slightly at the slightest touch. I inserted a finger into that mysterious opening; the warmth inside excited me even more. I tried to push it in deeper, as if trying to know just how deep it was. Finally, I touched something—perhaps what people often call the entrance to the uterus.

I secretly observed her expression; it was complex, whether she was enjoying it or in pain, I couldn't tell. Her eyes, not completely closed, seemed to be peeking at me. I whispered, "You're so beautiful. You're a true work of art."

Suddenly, she reached her right hand towards my crotch, grabbed my penis, and laughed, saying, "You're really good, so hard!" Stimulated, I quickly pulled down my pants, slipped under the covers, and made her lie face down. I rubbed my penis and pubic hair against her round, soft buttocks, then turned her over and slowly, deeply inserted my penis into her long-awaited hole. In my heart, I shouted, "Ah! I've finally become a real man!" (To be continued, please read the first part: Cornfield)

Although I was prepared and afraid that her hymen would break and cause pain, I did not rush to penetrate her. But the process told me that penetration was not very difficult. Perhaps our foreplay was sufficient (of course, this is my conclusion now, I did not understand these things at the time), or perhaps she was well prepared. In any case, although I used a little force at the entrance, the swollen glans still squeezed in without much effort and slowly reached the bottom. That feeling is absolutely indescribable. So, experienced gentlemen and ladies, when you read this, you may have to close your eyes and recall your first time. Perhaps then you can feel that wonderful experience (of course, if you gave your first time to a prostitute, that is another matter).

For those without sexual experience, don't rush. You can leave this suspense for now. Remember: when that day comes, don't let victory cloud your judgment. Focus and fully experience that indescribable feeling: warm, tight, tingling, numbing... oh my god, I really can't explain it... Because penetration was easier, I even wondered if she wasn't a virgin anymore.

But I was so magnanimous back then, thinking that even if she wasn't a virgin, I would still love her. But the next day, accidentally seeing two drops of blood on the sheets still excited me, because for me, this was ultimately better news. She later told me that she didn't experience the pleasure she had originally expected this time because she had read some magazines beforehand and knew that there should be a feeling of euphoria.

Of course, afterwards, we had orgasms almost every time we had sex, and 90% of the time we reached them simultaneously because I had learned some control over it. I could ejaculate within 5 seconds of her saying, "You're about to cum," and my penis would involuntarily expand in her vagina more than ten times until she was so overwhelmed that she bit me, scratched me, and hurt me.

That day, we barely slept all night. First, she was worried about whether she would get pregnant, which made her anxious and fearful for a long time. Later, thanks to a book I had read before, which said that the seven days before and after a woman's period are her safe period, she became excited with some skepticism, because her period had only ended two days prior. Of course, later events proved us right, and this experience brought us a lot of fun later on, because we knew when we had to use a condom and when we could go in naked.

Later that night, we barely slept, just excitedly chatting and caressing each other. She nestled in my arms, tracing the lines of my chest with her fingers, and said, "You must be good to me from now on, you can't lie to me." Of course, I agreed without hesitation, promising, "Don't worry, I'll always love you." It was then that I realized my usually unbelievable words had suddenly become useful. Of course, experience now tells me that expecting a man to sleep with only one woman his whole life is as impossible as expecting him to give birth, but expecting a man to love only one woman his whole life is entirely believable. Because a man sleeping with one woman and loving one woman are two completely different things.

So when I looked back, I realized I hadn't lied to her, because I always loved her and was always good to her, though of course I sometimes cheated on her. So, I'd like to remind some ladies: don't let your husband or boyfriend promise to only have sex with you; that's often unrealistic and meaningless. Loosening your control over his penis can sometimes help you win his love.

The next day, around 5 pm, we lingered a little longer, because the time before our breakup was getting closer. Suddenly, we no longer liked the holiday and hoped school would start immediately so we could see each other every day. But… in the end, we agreed to meet again in the county town at 10 am on the second day of the Lunar New Year, right in front of this guesthouse, no matter what.

It was a long vacation; every minute felt like a month to me. There were no telephones, let alone cell phones or internet access. So now I often wonder: are the internet and cell phones a blessing or a curse for couples in love?

They gained so much, and they no longer experienced the excruciating torment we went through—a blissful torment that, in retrospect, is incredibly painful.

After school started, we pretended nothing had happened. It was only later, a moment of impulsiveness, that exposed our relationship. A classmate from Guangdong, who lived next door, was commenting on the girls in our class in our dorm. He actually said her butt was beautiful. I didn't say anything. Another classmate jokingly asked, "How do you know? Have you seen it?" He said, "Yes!" The classmate then asked, "What proof do you have?" Then that guy went on to say, "I really have seen her butt; she has a birthmark on her left butt."

I knew he was talking nonsense, but I still couldn't help but punch him and kick him out of our dorm. From then on, it seemed like the whole class automatically stopped talking about her in the boys' dorm, at least not when I was around. The girls also seemed to sense our relationship. Under these circumstances, our relationship finally went from being a secret to being public. At that time, the school was very strict about dating, so it inevitably had a negative impact. Her grades were excellent throughout her four years of schooling, and she could have been directly recommended for graduate school upon graduation, but her name wasn't on the list. The teachers wouldn't say the reason, but perhaps it was because we were dating.

This incident was a huge blow to her. She didn't pursue graduate studies and had to return to our registered residence area to find work. She got a job at the Bank of China in our county, working in the newly established foreign exchange management department. I, on the other hand, got a job at the Agricultural Bank of China in our county, and in my second week after reporting for duty, I was assigned to a branch as the deputy director of the business department. At first, I would travel to the county seat once a week to see her. She shared a room with another girl from the bank at a guesthouse next to the county waterworks. That girl also had a boyfriend, supposedly the son of the deputy secretary of the county party committee. So we didn't dare offend her. When I visited, she would come out, as I felt awkward staying in the room, afraid of upsetting the other girl.

A few weeks later, she started coming to the countryside to see me on Saturday afternoons. At the time, I had a large room all to myself upstairs in the sales office. The streets in my village were very short, with farmland just a few hundred meters to the east and west. The corn hadn't been harvested yet, so we would go for walks after dinner, often ending up in the nearby cornfields. Whenever I saw a cornfield, I was reminded of the white buttocks of farm women I'd seen in cornfields before, and that excited me. I started to trick her into going into the cornfield to find some ears of corn to cook, and she believed me, following me into the cornfield, to a place far from the roadside.

Many people may have had this experience: when a man and woman are in an environment where they feel somewhat isolated from the outside world, they are most likely to develop feelings, such as in a closed bedroom or a closed car. So when we got to the cornfield, when I grabbed her breasts from behind, she grabbed my penis. We leaned in and kissed, caressed each other, and naturally loosened our belts. At that time, Zhang Yimou's "Red Sorghum" had just won an award, and the memory of the sorghum field scene in the movie drove us crazy.

I trampled down a few corn stalks, then took off my coat and spread it on the ground. I slowly took it off, slowly touched, slowly kissed, kissing every part of her body. Then, accompanied by the rustling of the wind, I had sex with her, thrusting, pumping, and getting excited...

After that one time, she became addicted. Almost every time we made love, she liked to go to the cornfield. After we finished, she would urinate there, finding it indescribably pleasurable. After the corn was harvested, there were hardly any tall crops left in the fields, so we had to do it in our dorm room. Even so, she always liked me to first describe the environment of a cornfield, and then we would pretend to be in a dense cornfield before slowly starting our lovemaking… You could say the cornfield became our most beautiful place to make love.

I remember two weeks before the corn harvest, many corn leaves had turned yellow, and the cornfield was becoming sparse, so the concealment was much worse. The weather hadn't completely cooled down yet. When we came to a cornfield again after dinner, took off our pants, and started doing it, we suddenly heard voices, seemingly very close. A woman asked: "When is your wife coming back next month?" A man said, "Number 5, I'm not sure. What, are you scared?" The woman laughed, "Am I scared, or are you scared?" The man said, "What am I scared of? As long as you're not scared, I can do it to you a hundred times, and she won't know. Look here, it's so safe, the ground is our bed, the sky is our blanket.

You can do it without worry. Come on, turn your ass towards me, let me do it to you from behind again." The woman said, "Slow down, last time you did it to me from behind, I felt uncomfortable for several days afterward." A moment later, the sound of a stomach hitting an ass could be heard.

We were so scared we didn't dare say another word, just quietly inserted our penises into her vagina and began thrusting silently. That time, I noticed she was unusually wet, and I really enjoyed it. After the two people nearby left, I mimicked the man and said, "Come on, turn your ass towards me, let me fuck you from behind." She laughed and whispered, "Be gentle, you made me uncomfortable for days last time you did it from behind." We excitedly did it again from behind, and she had her first two orgasms. Later, when we reminisced and compared our experiences, she surprisingly put this time of sex at the top of her "most memorable" list. I expressed my understanding.

Life at the bank was monotonous, but we felt fulfilled. Because we worked in different units, we hadn't been allocated housing after three years. The Agricultural Bank said that if I wanted a house, the rural branch could provide one, but we didn't want to settle down in the countryside. Later, we thought it didn't matter, because all we lacked was that piece of paper.

So we never went through with the marriage registration, and the people around us didn't care, because they already accepted our marital relationship. This continued for six years. Then one day, I suddenly thought about going abroad. A college classmate came to our city on a business trip and made a detour to see us. He said that several people from our class had immigrated to Canada and New Zealand. So I started thinking about going abroad…

In February 1995, we got our marriage certificate, obtained passports with the help of a relative at the county public security bureau, and submitted the relevant documents. In June, we received a notification from the Beijing office of the New Zealand Immigration Service that our immigration application had been approved.

At that time, we had mixed feelings because going abroad was a dream we had never dared to imagine for many years, and now it had suddenly become a reality, which made us very happy. But what would the future be like? Many relatives said that it was an isolated island, an agricultural country, and wouldn't be much better than China. These comments made us worried, but no matter what, since it had been approved, we decided to treat it as a trip and see for ourselves in New Zealand first. So we exchanged all our savings, plus gifts from relatives and friends, into US dollars, totaling over 6,000. We then completed the leave-of-absence procedures at our workplaces and flew to Auckland.

Auckland's airport wasn't large, but it was entirely carpeted, giving us a VIP feel. Of course, we later learned that finding a room without carpet in New Zealand is probably harder than finding one with carpet in China. The airport exit had a parking lot with thousands of cars. For some reason, I instantly fell in love with this country. She, however, felt the opposite, finding it lacking in vibrancy, like a rural area in China. Later, I asked her if it was because New Zealand didn't have cornfields, and she said that seemed to be a factor.

We rented a house in the Newmarket area, and in this completely new environment, we began a new wave of passionate lovemaking, especially since we now had a marriage certificate, which felt more secure. So when I was having sex with her, I would often yell, "I want to have sex with you! It's my legal right!" She said, "Don't be so conceited. New Zealand has a crime of marital rape." When I mentioned rape, I would say, "I'll rape you." Sometimes she would pretend to resist and struggle. Once, I even deliberately tore open one of her already ripped underwear at the crotch, pretending to be very violent, then I held her hands down, spread her legs, and inserted my penis into her vagina, thrusting rapidly. She slowly twisted beneath me, seemingly trying to break free of my control, but we cooperated very well, our strength and methods ensuring just the right amount of pleasure, making us both feel that this sex life was hard-won and cherished it even more. So now, sometimes when she has sexual desires, she often says, "Honey, rape me."

Sometimes I'll say, "I don't have any criminal motive right now." Later I asked her, "You women are really strange, do you really like being raped?" She said no, a woman is only happy when a man she likes rapes her! Ah, I see!

A month later, we heard in our language class that we could apply for subsidies, so we quickly received them. Life started to get back on track, without any worries. The more relaxed a person is, the higher the quality of their sex life. So I felt that our sex life these past few months was like when we first started dating—we did it every day, and we liked to try different things. In New Zealand, there are some adult TV programs that you can only secretly watch in China after midnight, and sometimes we like to wait for that time, watching TV while we make love.

In short, as far as I remember, I once bought 100 condoms at once, and they were used up in just over two months. Our room was always littered with condoms on the table and bed. Luckily, no friends came over, so our sex life was relaxed and stress-free. Nearly a year later, she started university, studying finance. She didn't find it too difficult, and it was then that I realized how brilliant our choice of international finance ten years ago had been. Her year of study ended quickly, and after graduation, she found a job at a bank with an annual salary of 30,000 yuan. It wasn't much, but we were very satisfied.

During holidays, we sometimes like to drive out and have fun, leaving traces of our love everywhere—on remote meadows, in dense forests, beside clear streams, and among fragrant flowerbeds. I remember once in a park south of Auckland, a young couple was secretly embracing in a grove of trees. Their trousers were down and their full buttocks were quite arousing. Maybe they didn't notice us, or maybe they didn't care at all. In any case, they were having sex with abandon. We walked slowly along the path beside them, secretly watching. That's when I realized that watching other people have sex in person is completely different from watching porn. In another part of that grove, we reenacted the scene we had just witnessed. The difference was that when we noticed someone coming, we quickly pulled up our trousers because we weren't used to exposing our buttocks to others.

In 2000, due to changes in New Zealand immigration policies, we decided to move from New Zealand to Melbourne, Australia, and start planning for our first child. Unexpectedly, our first child was twins, born in November of that year. Because of her advanced age, she suffered a lot during childbirth, experiencing significant bleeding. The doctor even asked me what I would do if there were any complications. I thought: "It's obvious! As long as we're alive, we can always save each other." Of course, I would save the mother!

At that moment, I realized how incredibly fortunate it is to truly love another person! It's more important than being loved by others!! I often see many young Chinese students living together here. They are, I would say, happy, but sometimes I wonder, can these kids, drawn together by sex, ultimately transform their sexual attraction into genuine, unforgettable love? When a man can maintain sexual interest in a woman for many years, I can say that they have developed a deeper level of love. My

wife took our child back to China last month to visit our parents, so I've had some free time lately, which is why I've finally found the time to write about our unforgettable experiences over the years. Before posting, I told her about my plan on the phone. She initially objected, mainly because she was worried that some people from our hometown abroad might easily find out about us, causing negative repercussions. I told her it was nothing! Because I didn't mention our names or the specific place, but everything comes from our real lives. Truth is also a kind of beauty, and in the end, she agreed.

I know many readers will read this as erotic literature, which is to my surprise, because sex is one of the most important things in everyone's life; there's no need to hide it. Everyone who comes to this forum is definitely a normal person in their daily life; only thugs and rapists like sex. Normal people like it!!

Otherwise, I wouldn't be posting my article here. I have two purposes: through reminiscing, I want to find that wonderful feeling in moments of loneliness and add fun to my life; secondly, I also hope that we readers can have a happy and sweet sex life, because it also needs communication, learning, and, more importantly, genuine creation! As long as you and your spouse are willing, and it doesn't affect others, feel free to use your imagination to create a high-quality sex experience for yourselves. I sincerely hope you will share your experiences with me and everyone else. Thank you!

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Cornfields in my hometown

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