At the age of 21

After having sex with my first college boyfriend, I began to understand and enjoy the mysterious and pleasurable aspects of sex. My initial experience with sex was shy and passive. Through intensive daily training in sexual concepts and watching pornography, I gradually gained an understanding of the male and female bodies. I felt a stirring within me.
I am a woman, a normal and emotional 26-year-old woman. From a teenage girl to a woman about to get married, I have so many memories about love and physical intimacy that I want to write down.
Man A's penis wasn't particularly large, but his touch was long and gentle. Back then, I was shy and didn't know how to flirt or enjoy it, but I loved the tender embraces and pleasures he
gave me. As time went on, I came to believe that this was the charm of married life: simple, real, and warm. After the breakup, what I often missed wasn't the passion of our intimacy, but rather the state of mind. The man's body and parts became a vague memory—I only loved the love itself.
Man B was my long-distance lover. At first, I was attracted by his sunny, boyish smile and tall, upright figure of 183cm. I always felt so small under his shoulders. Perhaps because of the long-distance relationship, even sex felt exceptionally precious. Each time, we fully enjoyed ourselves, entwined, until we were exhausted and fell asleep. Only then did we truly become so obsessed with sex, so deeply enjoying the intimacy born of love. We were each other's second chance after our first loves failed, exploring each other's experiences, caressing each other's bodies, searching for sensitive spots, enjoying the pleasure of oral sex—until the floodgates opened. His body captivated and attracted me; tall and strong, we were jokingly a perfect match, like brothers.
Our first time was in a karaoke bar during a trip to Beijing. The urge after the embrace and kiss was incredibly intense. Our hands groped for each other, trembling as we entered, intertwined, moaning, panting, convulsing until the peak… Even in that tender embrace, we lingered, reluctant to part.
We could only meet once a month, or perhaps more often due to business trips. Each meeting lasted 48 hours. The excitement swelled uncontrollably from the moment I stepped off the train. Meals, laughter, and hugs were luxuries. Even in hotels, we were meticulous about room selection and location, creating a romantic atmosphere.
The most unforgettable memory was the longing during the SARS outbreak. I risked everything to rent a car and drive to the heart of the most dangerous city. He drove, I rented a car, and after meeting, we shared a knowing hug and a sweet smile. Afraid of worrying his parents, we could only enjoy our brief reunions in a simple rented room. After parting, I was physically exhausted and emotionally dejected because of the impending separation… Long-distance relationships have limited lifespans. Due to various practical factors, I initiated the breakup. Only I truly understand the heartache and the sense of loss that came with having no one to hold me back.
Perhaps it was out of habit, but as a mature woman, I began to crave love and fulfillment. However, things didn't go as planned. In this restless and adrift era, the luxury of love meant everyone kept their distance, each seeking their own best way to survive. Thus, the fast-food approach to love emerged. It was directly about feelings, emotional support, catharsis, and sexual outlets.
I met C at a friend's gathering. His passionate rendition of A-Du's "Tearing the Night" drew my attention to this somewhat aloof, tall, and thin man. My woman's intuition told me he was watching me too. Was it physical loneliness? I rashly agreed to drive with him to Fragrant Hills at night. Under the starlight, everything seemed wild and irresistibly alluring. Our first intimate encounter in the car involved passionate hugs, kisses, and even touching, but no actual intercourse. We were both slightly fastidious. The next day, we drove to a resort. That night, I couldn't let go of traditional constraints and didn't let him truly possess my body—even though we were both ready to climax at first touch.

Subconsciously, I told myself to still love myself—because he had a girlfriend, a man about to get married. A stranger who had had two abortions for him called me in tears after I decided to leave this twisted attraction, and I only indifferently advised her to be cautious about marriage.
Indifference, coldness, and calmness. All the beauty made me increasingly rational, and the years of growth slowly eroded it.
I, who claimed to be a moral, high-quality, and cultured woman, still couldn't escape the clichés of online romance. Then, a humorous, witty, cultured, and knowledgeable tall man appeared in my life again. Sexually, I was so lucky; emotionally, I was the poorest of all, because he was already married. I once cursed: "Damn it, stay away from married men!!!"
I really felt like a woman destined for extramarital affairs, needlessly enjoying the pleasures of a paradise! But I only wanted to be involved with men who weren't married or had wives. What the hell are men?! He deceived a woman into marriage with grand promises, gaining her trust and dependence, yet why does he always seduce other women in real life? I truly feel helpless against this attraction. In comparison, married men are generally more romantic and skilled in their sex lives. They understand when a woman's body blossoms, when it climaxes, and when she needs it! They know how to cooperate with their partner to enjoy sex, how to stimulate the senses with words, how to be gentle during penetration, how to synchronize ejaculation with you, how to tenderly kiss every inch of your skin, how red wine can be a flirting agent, and how to suggest sexy lingerie...
It's pathetic that everything he possesses is a result of his efforts to promote wives, which he then offers to another woman. I am a conflicted individual, unwilling to be ridiculed by social morality; I feel burdened! Because of the good education I received from childhood and the deeply ingrained traditions within me, I will not become a third party—I will escape and disappear without leaving a trace. God still favors me, giving me the man E I currently have. We have never had intercourse, and we rarely even kiss. I also fear the disappointment that follows physical intimacy.
I have a burden in my heart and need time to erase the memories. I sincerely want to build a family with E; he's a man who makes me feel secure and reliable. He works hard, has simple social life, and most importantly, he loves me wholeheartedly. I haven't asked how many women he's had before, nor do I know anything about his health or sexual ability. I'm considering our union with extreme rationality, knowing full well that it's self-deception, but I want to return to a family, marry a man who loves and cherishes me, have a substantial income, and enjoy the life we create together...
So be it, the ordinary life of a simple woman, proceeding relatively calmly after a period of trials and tribulations. I'm writing this down to share with friends who have experienced or are experiencing similar situations. Regardless of the reactions, a traditional woman is still beautiful.
So be it, the ordinary life of a simple woman, proceeding relatively calmly after a period of trials and tribulations. I'm writing this down to share with friends who have experienced or are experiencing similar situations. Regardless of the reactions, a traditional woman is still beautiful.

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At the age of 21

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