The two young women next door

The two young women next door
were already twenty-eight when I got married. In those days, finding a girlfriend was easy, but finding a place to live was difficult. Getting married without a house didn't mean you couldn't have sex; unfortunately, I secretly got my fiancée pregnant after two or three trysts. Back then, to have an abortion at the hospital, you needed not only a marriage certificate but also proof from your workplace. Otherwise, no matter how much you begged, the doctor wouldn't agree to terminate the life growing inside you
. At that time, being pregnant before marriage (back then, a marriage certificate wasn't considered a marriage; you had to hold a ceremony to be officially married) was a serious offense, potentially leading to dismissal from your job. My fiancée was so terrified that she wrapped her belly tightly with cloth, living in constant anxiety, and insisted I get married immediately. Reluctantly, we borrowed a room and hastily held the wedding. The baby was almost due when my workplace finally allocated me a small apartment, finally giving me a place to settle down.
At that time, I was studying part-time. After my wife went into labor, I was too busy to take care of her, so she had to take a six-month leave from her workplace and move to the countryside with our child. This left me a single man with a wife. The housing unit my workplace assigned me was called a "united household," with three families sharing one unit. It was said that during the Cultural Revolution, these units were originally allocated to military representatives. Two of the three rooms were 18 square meters, one was 14 square meters, and the kitchen was about 10 square meters.
Such housing was considered luxurious for a family at the time; ordinary people couldn't afford it. After the military representatives left, the three families shared a room and the kitchen. All three families were newly married young people. I moved in last; the other two families had children over a year old. My next-door neighbors were a young couple; the woman was petite, and the man was quite handsome. Both worked, leaving early and
returning late. During the day, the child stayed with his mother-in-law, and they would pick him up in the evening. The man disliked studying and preferred playing cards, but he was extremely diligent with housework—washing clothes, cooking, and cleaning dishes. After finishing, he would either go to sleep or go out until midnight. The family next door was a rural man who had just graduated from university (at that time, the Cultural Revolution hadn't been going on for long, and university
graduates were considered the cream of the crop). He had just been assigned to work in the municipal government and was busy all day. His wife was from the countryside and didn't work; she was a full-time housewife. I'm an easygoing person and don't argue, so I got along well with both of my neighbors. The two families often quarreled over trivial things like cooking and drying clothes. Since I worked part-time and studied part-time, I spent more time at home during the day. The woman from the countryside was a full-time housewife with a child, so I saw her more often. I had been sent to the countryside during the Cultural Revolution and was quite familiar with rural life, so I got along well with
her. In my spare time, we would often chat . For example, she talked about her family situation and the process of her marriage. She was willing to talk to me (perhaps because she was lonely living alone at home), especially pouring out her troubles. She often talked about how she withstood pressure from her parents and relatives to date her husband, supported his studies, and how he almost abandoned her after he started working. She was beautiful, had a good figure, and a straightforward personality, but still had a bit of a rustic air about her.
She often told me that in the countryside, she was considered one of the prettiest girls in the surrounding villages, from a well-off family with her father and brothers working locally. She also had high standards; many young men had come to her house to propose marriage, but she refused them all. Her husband was short and not particularly handsome. His family was
also poor, which was why everyone in his family opposed their marriage. She fell for him for two reasons: firstly, he was a discharged soldier who served as a militia company commander; secondly, he was well-educated, studious, and often engaged in writing and drawing.
Their relationship was essentially a free-choice romance; in the beginning, he was incredibly devoted to her. Later, when he went to university, she scrimped and saved to support him.
Unexpectedly, before he even graduated, he became cold and distant towards her. After starting work, he even flirted with an older woman at his workplace. If she hadn't confronted him at work, he would have definitely become a heartless man. Whenever she talks about this, she becomes indignant and can't stop talking. She
also often mentions how her neighbor bullies her because she comes from the countryside. The neighbor's brother-in-law is her husband's superior, and her husband always advises her to stay away from him, which she often suppresses her anger about. I often try to comfort her.
Therefore, she had a strong liking for me, and we were practically inseparable. Logically, neighbors should get along normally; even the most promiscuous person shouldn't stray from their own neighborhood. Unexpectedly, under certain circumstances, we had an affair. Neither she nor I intended it, but it happened anyway.
That day was a day off, and in broad daylight, it was just the two of us in the building. Her husband was away on a business trip, and the neighbor had gone back to her parents' home. She was washing clothes in front of her house, and I, tired from studying, went over to chat with her. Somehow, the conversation drifted to her breasts, and we ended up telling a scandalous story.
It started like this: Her breasts were incredibly large, and she had a child... She was a young woman, not wearing a bra. She sat on a low stool washing clothes, her breasts swaying with her body.
I laughed and said, "Your breasts are so big! They dangle in front of you like that, don't you feel uncomfortable?"
She replied, "Yes, my neighbor always laughs at me, saying my breasts are practically up to my belly button." She laughed too. I said, "Were they this big before you got married?" She laughed and said, "If they were this big, it would be terrible! Hanging like that would be so ugly!"
I said, "They wouldn't hang like that if you weren't breastfeeding, but they must have been quite large." She laughed and said, "That's true. I'm just naturally beautiful. Even as a young woman, my breasts were always full. I tried to hide them, but I couldn't. People were always staring, it was so embarrassing." I joked, "When I went to the countryside, there was a bachelor in the village..." When watching movies (movies in the countryside were always shown outdoors back then), I would always graze around the girls, taking every opportunity to touch them, deliberately brushing against their chests, and even pinching them unexpectedly. Have you ever encountered anything like that?
She said, "It's the same everywhere. Some creepy men always come up to me, bumping and rubbing against me with their elbows."
I asked, "What did you do when that happened to you?" She said, "What could I do? I just kept quiet. If there was a space, I'd try to avoid it, but if there were too many people, there was nothing I could do." I laughed and said, "Isn't that just letting them take advantage of you?" She said, "Some only brushed against me; the bolder ones would even grab me with their hands outstretched. I couldn't escape."
I asked, "Didn't your husband get angry when they were around?" She said, "When there are men around, these things..." Of course, less often.
But she wasn't always with him; she mostly went to the movies with girls from the village, and that happened frequently. I laughed and said, "You can't blame others; your breasts are too conspicuous. Other girls might not experience as much of this as you." She laughed and said, "When I went to the movies with Xiao Yi (her husband's surname is Yi), he always liked to elbow me." I laughed too.
The conversation was going well, but somehow, when she started talking about her husband, she became indignant again.
She said, "That time, after I made a scene at his workplace, he got scared and came back to say nice things to me. I even said, 'That old maid at your workplace, besides being from the city, what does she have that compares to me? She's skinny and older.' At that time, I was angry for a long time. Before I married her, I really..." He was so resentful that he wanted to steal someone else's body from her.
Hearing her say that, I chuckled and teased her, asking, "Have you stolen anyone yet?" She said, "No, but I always think about it." I laughed and said, "Even though it's said that it's easy for a woman to find a man, it's not so easy to break through that veil."
She said, "What's so difficult about it? If I weren't so upright, some man would have taken my heart when I was seventeen or eighteen." I laughed and said, "You women are all like that, only allowing yourselves to start fires, but not allowing men to light lamps. You were dating someone when you were seventeen or eighteen, and you get jealous when Xiao Yi talks to someone or gives them a wink."
She said, "Don't be ridiculous. Xiao Yi and I have never dated anyone before. We live in the next bay. If I had dated someone else, wouldn't he know?"
I deliberately asked, "So what happened when you said your feelings almost went unnoticed?" This woman, so vain, seeing my apparent disbelief, told me something she'd probably never told anyone before.
She said, "Oh, no, it was that uncle in my room, he's incredibly wicked. One day, he came to my room, and seeing no one was home, he forced me onto the headboard, took off all my clothes, and started groping and squeezing my breasts, even sucking on them, making me really nervous." I asked, "So how come he didn't suspect you?"
She laughed, "In my daze, he took off my pants, and he took out his...thing...and insisted I touch it with my hand. It was a huge thing, it startled me, it completely fooled me—I firmly refused, but he wouldn't let go. I said, 'If you don't let go, I'll call for help,' and that's how I escaped that ordeal."
I said, "So he just let it go from then on?" She laughed and said, "My uncle was really wicked. He touched my breasts several times before. One day, when I was alone in the room, he became even more wicked and forced me onto the bed to rub them for an hour or so. I almost couldn't take it anymore. If his thing hadn't been so intimidatingly big, he would have taken advantage of me.
After I realized he not only wanted to touch my breasts but also wanted to take advantage of me, I always avoided him." I laughed and said, "That proves you were already wicked because of his touching your breasts back then." Then I added, "You too, having a big thing isn't good. Others want a big one but can't even think about it." She laughed and said, "Back then, I was still a girl, young and scared." I said, "If it were now, you definitely wouldn't be scared."
She just laughed and didn't say anything. She was washing clothes while talking to me. From her open collar, her white calves were visible, and half of her two round breasts could be seen.
Apart from a bit of the rustic air of a countrywoman, she was indeed a beautiful woman. At this point, my wife and I had been separated for over two months, and I was already feeling sexually frustrated. With things having come to this point, my thoughts naturally wandered, and I felt a surge of desire, wanting to kiss and touch her to quench my thirst, but I didn't dare to act rashly.
I surmised that her resentment towards her husband stemmed not only from her current status as a country girl and her husband's changed position, but also from his past infidelity, perhaps for other reasons. So, I decided to tease her further, creating an opportunity to make my move. I continued, "Luckily you didn't do anything foolish.
If you had done it in anger, you might have regretted it afterward." She said, "I'm always decisive; once I've done what I want to do, I definitely won't regret it."
I said, "That's not necessarily true. What you said about Xiao Yi is just your wild guess; it might not be factual. He still married you in the end, didn't he? Besides, Xiao Yi works in the municipal government; he started as a section chief, and he might even get promoted later. Why bother about the past?" She said angrily, "Just thinking about it makes me angry.
I was the one who insisted on being with him; I could have found a better family anywhere. Now it just bothers me. What's so good about being with him? I'm a slave at home all day. He's short, and not a good person; even if he's a high-ranking official, it's useless." I said, "He may be short, but saying he's not a good person is a bit much, isn't it? He can write and paint, he graduated from university, he has a good job, and his future is bright." Perhaps she was too angry, she blurted out, "That's not what I meant by 'not a good person.'"
I still didn't quite understand her meaning, so I asked, "Then what else is he not a good person?" She said, "What's he not a good person about? He's not good at anything." Then I seemed to understand; she probably meant he wasn't good in bed. I thought to myself, if he really wasn't good in bed, then their young marriage must be really unbearable. No wonder she was so resentful of him. To get to the bottom of things, I deliberately stirred things up again, saying to
my neighbor's two young wives
in a regretful tone, "I understand what you mean. I don't know how to respond directly, but you mean that while others want to pick a beautiful flower but can't, he just admires it from the branch, right?" I thought the implication was already quite explicit, and
she might stop there. Unexpectedly, she added, "Before I came to the countryside, I knew how many people were after me. But in this godforsaken place, everyone's locked up."
Her words seemed to imply a desire for an affair that couldn't be fulfilled, so I thought I had a chance. I continued, "I believe you. There are many acquaintances in the countryside, making it easy to visit. Besides, you're beautiful and have big breasts; any man would be tempted. If I were that uncle from your village, I wouldn't let a cooked duck fly away." She laughed, "He's afraid I'll really scream and lose face." I deliberately asked, "If he really did it, would you scream?"
She said, "Who would dare to shout about something like this? It would be so embarrassing."
At that moment, he was touching and pinching me all over, and I was panicking; my body went limp. I laughed, "Your uncle is all lust and no guts. If you had persisted a little longer, if you had used a bit more force, he would have gotten over it. And once you start, you might have to keep going." She laughed, "You men are all the same, never satisfied."
As the saying goes, listen to the words, listen to the meaning. Hearing her words, my heart was truly itching to act, but at that moment, her clothes were already washed and ready to be hung out to dry. The building entrance was open; it wasn't a good time to make a move. Experience told me that opportunity knocks but once; this couldn't be left unsaid; I had to strike while the iron was hot. So, I helped her hang the clothes, wishing she would finish immediately. While helping her hang the clothes, I even pretended to accidentally bump into her breast.
After hanging up the clothes, I went back to my room and waited for the best opportunity to approach her. I planned to close the building entrance door after she went into her room, just in case. If I succeeded, I could easily sneak in
. Even if I didn't, I could still move in and out freely. She went into her room but didn't come out or close the door. I wanted to strike while the iron was hot, so I went into her room. Waiting for her to come out would mean missing my chance. I quietly walked to her door with a glass of water in my hand and saw her sitting on the bed in the inner room, fixing her hair.
I went to her inner room and looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror on the bedside table, then spoke to her. I said, "You're really pretty. Xiao Yi, you really need to be careful about wearing a hat."
She said, "He doesn't care about me at all." I said, "He should regret not caring about you." She said, "Regret my foot!" I said, "He can let you go. If he couldn't, he'd be keeping you close." She said he had that much ability; he could protect anything, even a living, breathing person. I said, "You're making it sound too far-fetched. If someone really wanted to sleep with you, would you agree?"
She said, "That's hard to say. He's useless anyway. I'm annoyed. Who cares if he's my brother-in-law? A woman isn't meant to be with a man." Her words were truly sinister. My lust grew stronger and stronger. I no longer wanted to hide my true feelings; success or failure hinged on a single thought. To be on the safe side, I thought, "Let's try it by word first. If that doesn't work, we'll think of something else." I continued with my final probing, saying to her, "Now that you mention it, my heart is almost turning evil. I really want to squeeze your big breasts."
She said, "What's so great about squeezing a few breasts?" Having come this far, I decided to give it a try. So, I walked up to her and actually touched her breast. She immediately pushed my hand away.
I said, "See? If someone really wanted to sleep with you, you wouldn't agree?" She didn't move, remaining silent. I sat down next to her and whispered, "Just for a little while, okay?" She stared at me and said, "What's so fun about country bumpkins?" I said, "I've never had any concept of country bumpkins or city people, only the difference between pretty and not pretty people." She said, "What's pretty about me?" I said, "I think your eyes, eyebrows, and nose are all pretty, it's just that your breasts are a little too big." She laughed.
By this time, I had already slipped my hand into the clasp of her bra. She grabbed my hand, preventing me from going any further, and whispered, "No, you said it, but you're really going to do it?" I said, "I'll just pinch your breast once, is that too much to ask?" She said, "What's wrong with pinching a breast once? It's just that someone might see."
I said, "I've closed the building entrance door, who could see?" She laughed and said, "You men are all devils." I said, "I wouldn't be a man if I didn't become a devil." She pinched my arm hard and said, "I'll let you off easy, just one pinch."
I said, "Once isn't enough, let's do it twice." Then I quickly reached for her breasts. Her breasts were truly large; the breasts of a breastfeeding woman were completely different from a young girl's—soft and yielding, lacking elasticity, yet easily molded into various shapes. I gently pulled her into my arms, my hand slipping from under her clothes to her breasts, sliding over them, kneading them wantonly.
She closed her eyes slightly, her body limp and weak against my chest. At this moment, my penis was already hard and erect. Pretending to want to see her breasts, I pushed her down onto the bed, pounced on her, and pressed her body beneath me. She gasped for breath, twisting and turning, her voice trembling as she said, "Only touching your breasts? Can't I touch them while you're holding me?" She struggled, saying, "I can't breathe from being pressed down."
I said, "Just one press, one kiss." Then I silenced her with my own lips. She kept turning her face away, trying to avoid my mouth. At that moment, my desire was burning fiercely. I held her hands down, used my mouth to unbutton her blouse, and kissed her half-exposed breasts incessantly, sucking on her erect nipples.
After a while, her body stopped writhing so much, letting me kiss her mouth to mouth, our tongues intertwining. Her body was truly voluptuous. I braced myself on the bed with one hand, and while we kissed, my other hand began to caress her rounded arm, moving down her chest, then her back, and slipping inside her pants to her plump buttocks. Having been celibate for so long, I felt her skin was incredibly soft and smooth. I withdrew my hand and squeezed and kneaded her large breasts.
In the midst of this ravaging, I felt her hand seemingly brush against my penis unintentionally. I took the opportunity to unzip my pants, releasing my already hot and hard penis. I pulled her hand over, and she quickly pulled it back as soon as she touched it. I whispered to her, "Squeeze it." She blushed and said, "Dream on, I won't." I didn't force her and reached over to undo her belt.
She waved her hand to stop me, saying, "You're never satisfied." I said, "Let me see down there." She said, "What's there to see there?" But in the end, I still let her pull down her trousers and waistband. I licked her vulva with my tongue. At first, she covered it tightly with her hand, saying anxiously, "No, how can I use my mouth?"
I said, "It's okay." Her labia were already swollen and congested. I licked her clitoris until it was as big as a pea, and it was already oozing fluid. I stared into her watery eyes and whispered, "Let me do it." She said, "No." I said, "I can't take it anymore. You don't believe me? Look," and then I pulled her hand to my penis again. This time, she didn't let go. Following my instructions, she gently pinched and slowly rubbed it with her fingers, whispering, "Wow, this thing is huge!" I said, "Big is good, I'm going to put it in and do it."
This time, she didn't refuse, only saying sweetly, "If you do it, you can't tell anyone." I said, "Of course, I know that." So she completely relaxed. My penis was already burning hot and hard as iron, easily entering her slippery vagina.
I put her legs on my shoulders, thrusting my hips, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, pushing my penis into her vagina. Every few thrusts, I would forcefully push to the deepest point, and each time I hit her clitoris, she would let out a soft moan. The enchanting atmosphere, the bone-deep pleasure, was truly indescribable.
Time flew by, and I, having been a virile virgin for a while, was bursting with energy. In about half an hour, we had sex twice, the second time lasting longer and feeling even better than the first. Unfortunately, she only gave me this one chance. About a month later, she moved out. Her husband's workplace allocated her a new apartment and also temporarily arranged a job for her. After she left, that room remained empty for six months before someone moved in. He was single, sometimes coming to sleep in the middle of the night, but rarely seen during the day. For the past
six
months, only two families had lived in the building. Gradually, I became familiar with the couple next door. The woman's surname was Jiang, and the man's surname was Zhou. To be honest, apart from being a bit careless, they were quite nice people. I have a very careless habit; I tend to leave kitchen utensils lying around after using them. Their carelessness meant they often shared my things. I bring this up not because I'm petty, but because the story I'm about to tell is somewhat related to it.
Young people are generally easy to get along with; when cooking together in the kitchen, we always chat and laugh, so I learned a bit about her and her husband's love life. My female neighbor's sister used to live in my room, and it was her sister who introduced her to her husband. Her husband is quite hardworking and handsome. That's why they got together.
But after Xiao Yi and I moved in, her husband's shortcomings became apparent. Although he was hardworking, he wasn't diligent; he wasn't very knowledgeable, and his speech and mannerisms paled in comparison. Once, while chatting with her, we touched on this, and she said, "If only my husband were a little as hardworking as you." I said, "Not necessarily, everyone has their own preferences."
My wife told me, "Your husband, Xiao Zhou, is good; he does all the housework. I just come home and read, expecting everything to be done for me; I don't do any housework." She said, "What kind of man does housework all day long? My brother-in-law transferred him from the collective to the Industry and Commerce Bureau a few years ago. If he were successful, he wouldn't be like this today. A grown man, doing housework all day, like a concubine. If he were willing to put in the effort to study, I wouldn't let him do laundry, buy groceries, and cook.
You think he's diligent? He's just bored. You haven't seen him, after meals he's out running around. At home, he either sits until he's half asleep or goes to bed early. Seeing him like that is annoying. In the future, he won't be able to speak or write, he'll have a hard time establishing himself anywhere. There's always someone better, and every family has its own problems." Perhaps because of this, and other reasons, when I took the opportunity to be indecent with her, she didn't resist much.
That night, her husband went off somewhere (there were no pagers or cell phones back then). In the middle of the night, her child suddenly developed a fever, and she woke me up in a panic, asking me to accompany her to the hospital. I hurriedly got dressed, rode my bicycle, and took her and the child to the hospital for emergency treatment. It took me more than two hours to get home.
When we got home, the child was asleep, and she was lying on the bed, wrapped in a coat, watching me. I told her not to worry. She said, "I'm not worried, I'm just annoyed." She said, "Look, what kind of man is like him? Not coming home in the middle of the night. If it weren't for you, how could I, a woman, have taken her (the child) to the hospital in the middle of the night, keeping you awake? I'm so sorry." I said, "It's nothing, we're neighbors, helping out is only right."
Xiao Zhou still hadn't come home that night, where could he be? She said, "Who knows where he's gone? Besides playing cards, what else does he have to do?" I said, "That's true, what's so great about playing cards all night?" Seeing her anxious, I felt embarrassed to go to sleep, so I stayed and talked to her. First, I stood and spoke to her, then I sat on the edge of the bed.
She didn't say anything, just moved a little closer. She had also gotten up after sleeping to go to the hospital. She was leaning against the bed, looking languid, her outer garment draped over her chest, revealing her two round breasts bulging beneath her close-fitting undershirt. For some reason, I suddenly felt a surge of lust, and without thinking, I pulled her into my arms with one hand and reached for her breasts through her clothes with the other.
Perhaps it was because my action was sudden, or perhaps because I felt bad for bothering her in the middle of the night, but I squeezed and kneaded her breasts for two or three minutes. She pushed my hand away without much reaction, only saying, "It's getting late, we should go to sleep." This was the first time; it was just a coincidence. The next day, she didn't say anything either, everything was as usual. I didn't dwell on it, nor did I intentionally look for an opportunity.
But as people say, once something like this happens, it will happen again. Before I knew it, summer was here. Because of exams, I was studying until midnight every day, and since it was so hot, I always left my door open. That day, it was already past midnight when she came over and asked me for mosquito coils. I was too lazy to get up, so I told her to go get them from the inner room herself. She went in but couldn't find them, so she asked me to help her look. I had no choice but to get up and go get them.
It was then that I noticed she was only wearing a pair of underwear and a sleeveless top, revealing her white arms and legs. My heart immediately went astray. Taking advantage of the opportunity to find mosquito coils, I pressed my legs against hers, squeezing her against the counter. While reaching for the coils, I slipped the other hand under her armpit from behind and groped her breast.
She, of course, noticed my intentions and dodged to the side. As my lower abdomen pressed against her round, upturned buttocks, my penis hardened. With lust arising, I didn't think twice and pressed myself against her. If she had questioned me then and there, asking what I was doing, or even said, "Never mind, I don't want the mosquito coils," perhaps I would have stopped.
But she didn't say that. When I approached her and pulled her into my arms, she struggled fiercely, but she kept saying, "Don't mess around, there are people outside the window" (we lived on the first floor, the window was open, and there were indeed people cooling off outside, but the lower half of the window was covered by curtains, so we couldn't see anyone). She spoke so softly, like a mosquito's buzz, as if afraid the people outside would hear. This didn't stop me; instead, it emboldened me. In the struggle, she retreated step by step to the bed. I took the opportunity to push her down onto the bed, pounced on her, clamped her body between my legs, and reached into her clothes, pinching one of her breasts. She struggled fiercely but didn't make a sound.
How could a woman resist a man? I pressed her down tightly, blocking her struggling hands with one hand, and with the other, I lifted her clothes and began to fondle her smooth breasts—during the struggle, she never shouted loudly, only whispering that this was wrong and asking me to let go. There were only the two of us in the room at that moment (her child was young and already asleep). Having been celibate for a long time, I was burning with desire and unwilling to let go.
She struggled to sit up, and I pulled her tightly into my lap, one hand caressing her breasts, the other slipping into her underwear, covering her genitals, and sliding and rubbing my middle finger between her legs. Soon, I felt her wetness and her labia swollen. I then flipped her over and pressed her down on the bed, clamping her legs tightly between my thighs, struggling with her with one hand while pulling down her underwear with the
other. Her underwear had a loose elastic band, which I easily pulled down to her thighs. I was also wearing underwear, which I quickly pulled off as well. By this time, I had pulled one leg of her shorts down, and she was on her back, lying on the edge of the bed. I stood on the floor, using my body to spread her legs apart, my rock-hard penis pressed straight against the base of her thighs. Suddenly, her expression changed. She said, "You're too bold! If you don't let go, I'll scream!" Her voice wasn't loud, but her tone was fierce.
I don't know what came over me, but I wasn't particularly scared. However, seeing how serious she seemed, I didn't dare force myself on her. I stopped, leaned down, and whispered to her, "Don't scream, please don't scream. I'll only touch you once." Of course, she didn't scream; she remained in that position. I pounced on her, grabbed her hands, and pressed them flat on the bed. I didn't dare move my lower body, but I tried to find her lips with my mouth, but she dodged away.
I don't know how it happened, perhaps because my body kept moving as I searched for her lips, or perhaps because she twisted her body as she tried to avoid my kiss, but my penis somehow ended up inside her vagina. She felt it too, and cried out in alarm, "It's over, it's over, you're really going to kill me!" At that moment, I felt my penis was incredibly hard and swollen, and her slippery vagina felt warm. For a moment, I
held my penis inside her, but dared not move. Her hands were held flat against my chest, and her body remained motionless. After a while, I finally silenced her with my lips, feeling her lips burning hot, her breathing rapid, and her hands, which I had held down, limp and powerless. I held her tightly, placing her arms over my shoulders, and while using my tongue to probe her mouth, I gently lifted my hips, tentatively sliding my penis slowly inside her vagina, rhythmically moving in and out according to the nine shallow, two deep rule—
Although the lights weren't on in the inner room, the light from the outer room and the daylight streaming in through the window made it easy to see.
I saw her eyes were closed, her body limp and reclining, her legs hanging off the bed, hooked tightly around my thighs. I felt all my worries vanish, and I boldly got to work.
Sometimes I thrust rapidly in and out of her vagina, sometimes I stopped and caressed her breasts and back with my hands—she kept her lips tightly pressed together, not making a sound, but I could feel her body writhing beneath me, her vagina overflowing with fluid—and my penis really did me justice, lasting a good twenty or thirty minutes before I ejaculated.
I felt pleasure deep in my bones, and she was completely exhausted. The first half was front-entry, with her lying on her back on the edge of the bed.
The second half, I flipped her over and entered her from behind, thrusting in and out while fondling her breasts. As my penis began to thrust violently in and out of her vagina, rubbing against her, she had become a docile lamb.
When I wanted to switch to doggy style, she didn't resist and quickly adjusted to my position. As I ejaculated rapidly, I felt her vaginal muscles contracting rhythmically. After we finished, I pulled her onto the bed and laid her on her side, gently encircling her neck with one hand and kissing her, while the other continued to squeeze and play with her breasts, pinching and hardening her nipples, then sucking on them.
After a short while, she suddenly broke free, quickly pulled on her underwear, and fled back to her room. I chased after her, handing her mosquito coils, which she took, then tightly closed the door. For over a month afterward, she didn't say a word to me.
Of course, I occasionally tried to be attentive to her. Finally, our relationship returned to normal; we were still chatting and laughing, but neither of us mentioned the incident. This event was like a shooting star, fleeting and disappearing forever into the dark night sky.

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