Wife-2

About a month after Anan moved, she found that her family's finances were starting to run into difficulties. After

being a housewife for 10 years, considering her financial situation, she

took over a betel nut and cold drink shop outside a construction site through a female friend's introduction. My friend and I took turns running the shop. Since

there was already a betel nut shop nearby that had opened before us, business was initially quite slow. With my friend's advice and

my husband's consent, we made a strategic change.

In addition to wearing light makeup, we replaced our original long-sleeved tops and jeans with short-sleeved t-shirts and short skirts. Although

I am already a mother of two, perhaps because of good maintenance or natural beauty, coupled with my delicate skin and

tall figure, my fair and slender legs looked even more charming and alluring in the short skirt. This

change not only made the business better than the nearby competitors, but it also triggered a major

turning point in my life.

After starting my betel nut and cold drink shop and leaving behind my life as a housewife, I felt my days became happier and more fulfilling

. Most of my customers were men from the working class. Although I occasionally received some

harmless , suggestive remarks from them, many of these comments were compliments about my figure and beauty. Compliments from the opposite sex are my

greatest source of happiness and self-affirmation, a linguistic satisfaction and self-affirmation I hadn't experienced since marriage, and

sweet words that my honest and reserved husband rarely utters.

One regular customer, around 40 years old, who came several times a day, was nicknamed "Blackie."

He probably got that nickname because of his darker complexion. He wasn't a construction worker; he said he was a brothel

attendant for a nearby establishment. My female partner, however, told me he was actually just a errand boy outside the shop, calling out to customers.

No wonder he came so often; he was probably running errands for them! Although he was taller and stronger than my husband,

his appearance was unremarkable, even a bit sleazy—truly the stereotypical face of an errand boy.

Since he was a regular customer, we inevitably chatted a bit more during lulls in business. After we got to know each other better, he sometimes made suggestive remarks

that went even further than other customers. To retain this regular customer, and because he was

far more adept at complimenting women than other customers, I was happy to chat with him casually in my spare time, getting the

pleasure .

Blackie started frequenting my shop more and more often, and gradually, he would use the opportunity of giving change to

sneakily touch my hand when no one was around.

"Your hands are so smooth and delicate." "You're so pretty

and have such great skin."

As we got to know each other better, I didn't take Blackie's blatant flirting to heart. In fact, I seemed to be slowly losing myself

in and getting used to his methods. During breaks from work, I even looked forward to Blackie's visits. His

words became increasingly explicit, often delving into intimate topics like sex, which would often make me blush and

my heart race.

"You must have a lot of sex, otherwise your skin wouldn't be so radiant." God knows! My sex life is

severely lacking.

"If my wife were as beautiful as you, I'd make her too weak to get out of bed every day, because everyone I've used

says I'm strong, hard, and long," he said. I replied,

"You're killing me, talking nonsense!" Blackie quickly clarified,

"I swear, this is what I truly believe. You're just too beautiful; no man

could resist your allure." Really?! Why is my husband the same? In the room, facing

the allure of my white body beneath my sheer lingerie and my thick pubic area, why is my attraction ineffective on my husband?!

I suspect that Hei Zai's observation that I didn't react

unhappily only fueled his ambition and audacity. Taking advantage of the situation, Hei Zai

would casually or unintentionally touch my buttocks or thighs while helping me carry drinks or heavy objects. On several occasions, he even touched my

breasts and the inside of my thighs under my skirt. Faced with such subtle teasing, I became aroused.

My sexual desire, fueled by Hei Zai's teasing, was slowly ignited like a fire fueled by the wind. From then on

, after having sex with my husband, while rinsing off the semen in the bathroom as usual, I would stimulate my clitoris with my fingers

and caress my tender breasts. I would fantasize that Hei Zai's hands were teasing my private parts.

At the height of passion, I would part the thick pubic hair and insert two fingers into my vagina, imagining Hei Zai's penis

forcefully and relentlessly thrusting in and out of me. Stimulated by this illicit fantasy, I quickly reached an unnatural

orgasm.

Hei Zai's actions became increasingly bold. After his seemingly casual and unreasonable physical contact went unchallenged

, he would occasionally even brush his genitals against my buttocks while I was busy in the shop. Even through my

underwear and skirt, I could still feel the hardness of his penis.

Later, whenever the shop was quieter, Hei Zai would always appear, constantly

teasing me with increasingly explicit words and inappropriate physical contact, gradually planting the restless

feelings within my fluttering heart.

Hei Zai even somehow knew that when I was on my day off, I would often go to a nearby coffee shop to have

afternoon tea . (Perhaps he had been following me for a long time to find out!) Once, when my sister was busy and I was alone,

he pretended to bump into me and invited me to afternoon tea. In the romantic atmosphere, we flirted and tested each other blatantly, and our

illicit relationship seemed to have reached a new level. Hei Zai shamelessly said,

"You look great today, your face is still flushed, you must have done it several times last night!" I blurted out

,

"No, not last night! I wanted it, but he didn't." I immediately realized that Hei Zai had tricked me into saying something. Blackie suddenly

realized and said,

"So you wanted to do it last night, but your husband didn't want to!" I blushed and was speechless

. "..." Blackie volunteered,

"Then you can come to me, I'll make you scream until your voice is hoarse!" I responded hesitantly,

"You're that strong! You men are always all talk, but it's not like that at all."

Blackie protested,

"How do you know I'm like other men if you haven't tried it!" I teased him maliciously,

"You should know! Otherwise, why would your wife divorce you?" Blackie said with a hint of seriousness,

"That's because I went to jail, which led to the divorce! My ex-wife often praised me for having the thickest and longest penis she had ever seen." I

continued to tease him:

"Maybe your wife has only seen yours, of course she'd say that," Blackie said unabashedly. "

My wife works in a brothel, she's seen thousands, if not tens of thousands, of 'guys'!" I

replied, trying to save face,

"Your wife is so experienced." Blackie continued shamelessly,

"I'm better than other men, otherwise my ex-wife wouldn't have married me! What about you? How many men have you seen?

" As he spoke, he rubbed his hard penis against my buttocks. I said in a panicked, coquettish voice,

"Oh no! What if someone sees us?" Blackie asked hopefully,

"Sorry! Sorry! Will you agree if we don't let anyone see us?" I replied shyly,

"We'll see." Blackie persisted, trying to entice me,

"Every time I see you, I get unbearably hard! If you don't believe me, feel it." As soon as he finished speaking, he grabbed my

hand and, through my pants, tried to touch his penis, seemingly out of female modesty. Although I immediately pulled my hand away, I

could feel its erection. I was very curious about what Blackie's penis actually looked like. Was

it as he described?

Such teasing was almost a routine between Blackie and me every time we met alone

. I myself was fully enjoying the thrill of exploring male-female desire in this ambiguous atmosphere.

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