The story of sleeping with the neighbor's wife is now complete.

She's my neighbor's wife, several years older than me. Although my family and theirs don't keep in close contact, I've liked her since high school. Maybe it's because she's really beautiful, or maybe it's because I often heard moans coming from their house late at night. I always thought it was just a fantasy, but she actually came into my life. She is indeed a beautiful woman; although she's thirty-three, she exudes an allure that makes me want to bite her. Normally, I only greet her when we meet, though I have many fantasies afterward, this continued until I graduated from university.

I work at an investment company, often not getting off work until seven or eight at night, so I often order an omelet rice at a Japanese restaurant near my office for dinner. Of course, this restaurant is also where I often bring online friends to eat; I can't even remember how many sweet nothings I've said there. I have a special feeling for this restaurant. But last Sunday night, I unexpectedly ran into her there. Her curly hair, her body—she was so captivating. I completely forgot to say hello! She saw me too, and walked straight towards me with that smile that had captivated me for six years.

She was there to buy clothes. We ate and chatted, and she kept asking me if the clothes looked good, because she said women's clothes are always for men to see. To be honest, I didn't know if her clothes looked good, because they were very revealing, with hardly any fabric. I could even see her red nipples in her bra when she looked down to eat. Although I couldn't see them very clearly, and although I didn't dare to look at someone so familiar like that, it definitely aroused my desire for her. It was also strange that a woman in her thirties would still have red nipples! Eating, chatting, looking, looking, and I got an erection!

We talked so much for the first time, and I say so because it was the first time we talked so much about things other than everyday matters. I discovered that her interests weren't that different from people our age. She also liked to go clubbing after work, but I liked to go to "True Love," while she liked to go to "Roger's." I joked, "Let's go dancing today, your husband won't mind, will he?" She actually agreed, saying she'd go tonight, because her husband had gone to Hong Kong and wouldn't be back for a week; he'd just left today, and she'd just seen him off at the airport and gone shopping for clothes on Huaihai Road.

We sat at the open-air bar in Xintiandi until 10:30, and she said she wanted to check out "True Love." We got there at 11:30. It was peak time, very crowded. I suggested we get something to drink first, and she said beer. Actually, I don't drink, but since she said beer, it wouldn't be right for me not to, so I ordered four bottles. I could already feel my face turning red; it was so hot. Finally, she couldn't resist going to dance, saying she couldn't stand it, no matter how crowded it was, and pulled me in. It was the first time she held my hand, and I touched her arm—it was so soft and warm. I felt a strong urge.

To be honest, I really like "True Love" because the women there are really beautiful. For a long time, I came here just to see the women. Her outfit today was actually very suitable for the atmosphere—tight-fitting, low-cut, making her look very voluptuous, but she's always been a voluptuous woman. She started a head-shaking dance in front of me, her eyes closed, rhythmically swaying her long hair. I was surprised that someone her age would enjoy head-shaking; I'd always thought it was the domain of lively young girls. I was even more astonished that as she shook her head, her breasts swayed more rhythmically than her hair. I took a step closer to her, for some reason—perhaps I wanted to accidentally touch her incredibly alluring breasts.

She shook her head really wildly, almost frantically. I sometimes dance like that, but I can only manage five minutes at most; I can't stand the dizziness. But she danced for a minute and a half, then suddenly burst into laughter and hugged me. I was genuinely startled. She laughed maniacally, saying she couldn't dance anymore and asked me to help her for a while. I hugged her, feeling a bit overwhelmed. It's not that I've never hugged a woman before, but she was truly special to me. It wasn't love; it was a different feeling altogether. Back in high school, I even considered her like an elder, but today, in this setting, I could actually hold her so tightly. Her scent made me dizzy, and my shoulder pressed firmly against her left breast, feeling its softness and warmth. It felt so inviting, but she was my neighbor, not one of those little girls I met online!

So, I held her and found a seat at the bar. She leaned on my shoulder for a while, seemed to sober up, and then, while teasing me for being so young yet not as good as her, ordered two more bottles, saying she was thirsty. Perhaps because I had too many sexual fantasies about her, I was momentarily speechless! Just then, I saw a well-built girl in her early twenties haggling with a foreigner. One said two thousand, the other, who considered himself a China expert, said one hundred and fifty thousand at most. They were talking loudly; the girl probably thought she was speaking English, which other Chinese people wouldn't understand, while the other thought that if his companion could hear, it would prove he was a China expert.

I couldn't help but laugh at those two guys, saying that a prostitute is a prostitute, no matter how pretty or high-class she is. She laughed and said yes, that you men like her, that with two thousand yuan you can play with a girl that most men would only glance at on the street. I said that no matter how good I am, I wouldn't touch a prostitute, not because she's dirty or cheap, but because I would despise myself. I don't believe I'd stoop to the point of needing a prostitute to find a woman. She actually thought my words were insightful and asked me what I would do if I wanted a woman. Maybe it was because we'd had a few too many drinks, but my neighbor and I ended up talking about this topic. I said that if I wanted a woman, I'd have a one-night stand rather than go to a prostitute. Whether she had some insight or felt it wasn't appropriate to discuss this topic with her neighbor's younger brother, she paused for a moment and didn't delve deeper into the subject.

So we squeezed back into the crowd and started dancing again.

The music was great, my favorite high-pitched song. I danced with great enthusiasm. She, perhaps not used to this kind of dance, was a little out of rhythm. I don't know where the impulse came from, but I suddenly hugged her, placed my hands on her buttocks, pressed my chest against hers, and led her in this slow, heavy dance. I saw a hint of surprise in her eyes that made me hesitate, but she immediately responded with reciprocation. So I pressed closer to her, more rhythmically. She seemed to be enjoying the dance, because she placed her hands on my buttocks. Later, I even felt our lower abdomens rubbing together; her fingers gently kneaded my buttocks to the rhythm. My lower abdomen was on fire!

At 1:30, we decided to go home, but I could clearly feel the atmosphere between us was different from when we first arrived. Since that dance, she had become noticeably quieter. I wanted to say something, but nothing came out. We hailed a taxi waiting at the door, and the driver surprisingly offered to take us to the hotel. I wasn't surprised by the driver's enthusiasm, but since he was talking to me and my neighbor, I felt a little awkward. I told him I was going to Guangling Road in Hongkou District and then fell silent. She didn't say anything either, and we didn't talk much the whole way. I felt the atmosphere wasn't very good. When we were almost home, I asked the driver to stop. I paid him and told him I felt a bit stuffy inside and needed some fresh air. She smiled and nodded; she knew it wouldn't be good if acquaintances saw us.

When we got to her door, her light was on—her cute orange wall lamp. The light seemed very inviting. I couldn't help but start daydreaming again. But what could I do?

I tiptoed into the living room, careful not to wake my parents. I turned on the lamp and found a note on the table. It was from my parents; they said they were going to Huangshan for the long holiday.

Thinking about it, my parents really are like children—childish, playful, and prone to making impromptu decisions.

I wondered what I'd been doing these past few days...

After showering, I turned on the TV, and it was showing "The Bridges of Madison County" on cable. It happened to be the scene where the male and female protagonists were kissing in the kitchen, then falling onto the bed. I'd seen the TV show and read the book before. I'd always thought it was boring because it had nothing to do with my life, but watching it actually excited me—more than when I secretly watched porn. I even pulled down my pants to check on my unwitting little brother, which was red and erect, looking defiant.

I heard her slippers from next door again. I felt terrible, and suddenly the thought of calling her to talk to her popped into my head. I

stared at the phone for a long time, feeling like today had already been ridiculous enough, but I really couldn't muster the courage to pick it up. The elderly couple on TV were still kissing, looking very engrossed. I could faintly hear her slippers, the light was dim, and my manhood was still throbbing.

I picked up the phone anyway and dialed her number, because I always felt that if a man wanted to do something, he should do it; overthinking was just bad. She didn't seem surprised when she answered, just asking why I wasn't asleep yet. I said I had just taken a shower and felt very awake. I asked her why she wasn't asleep yet, and she said she was a little hungry and was making something to eat. I casually added that I was starving too, saying that my parents weren't home and there was nothing to eat at home. She said she could come over to my place for something to eat, but then seemed to realize she had said something wrong. I paused for a moment, then said, "Okay!"

I was really hungry. I'd only eaten an omelet at 7 PM;

how could I possibly stay awake until 2 AM? Her house was right across the street. I just threw on some trousers and headed over. As I walked out of my house, I had a feeling something might happen tonight. She opened the door with a smile, and I slipped inside like a thief. Even when I got to her place, I spoke a few decibels less than usual, afraid someone would hear me. Actually, it was just the two of us on that floor tonight. It wasn't my first time at her house. She also had a Golden Retriever. I hate those kinds of dogs, but the dog was actually quite nice to me. Every time I came home, if it saw me, it would wag its tail and greet me from the doorway, even happier than if it saw her husband. Sometimes it would even jump out and lick my feet. But I hate dogs, and I always kicked it away when it did that. The dog was probably tired today, lying on the floor, half-asleep.

She smiled and told me to sit down for a bit, saying it would be ready soon, and asked if I liked this or that, all while preparing the food with her back to me. I sat behind her, admiring her. She had just showered; her hair was wet, shiny, and looked beautiful, exuding a blend of Vidal Sassoon and her own body scent. She wore a loose-fitting men's t-shirt, very casual, probably intending to sleep in it. Underneath, she wore a white gauze skirt that barely revealed half of her thighs, showing the rest of her legs, but her panties were hidden by the hem of her oversized t-shirt. This made me very tempted to lift up her t-shirt.

Her legs were beautiful, white, with full calves that I imagined must be very firm. I could vaguely see the outline of her thigh muscles, but they weren't very prominent. She was wearing trendy backless sandals that could be worn over the top. I used to hate women wearing those kinds of shoes because I thought they were for lazy women, but she looked good in them. Because her feet were so white, and the heels of the sandals were quite high, her beautiful feet were prominently displayed before my eyes. When she walked, her heels and the tops of her shoes moved up and down, and I actually felt excited about her feet. I wanted to put my thing under her feet and let her move it up and down like that. Thinking this, my thin pants bulged.

When she turned around, I realized this, which made me a little embarrassed. I remembered when I was in middle school, at the water park, seeing many girls in swimsuits who could only squat in the water, afraid to come out.

Luckily, I was sitting, so it wasn't very noticeable unless you were paying attention. She fried me some pumpkin pancakes and made me some oatmeal with milk. She only ate some apples. I asked how she could eat an apple when she was so hungry. She said it was a habit; she usually doesn't eat much at night, but she was really hungry today.

I asked her how her day went, and she said she had a lot of fun and would go again sometime. She turned on the TV, and it was showing "The Woman Who Had an Affair." She said she loved watching it and had seen it many times. She thought the woman was very happy, and maybe if she went with the photographer, she wouldn't feel anything bad. I asked why. She said that woman had that one week, and that week would stay in her heart for the rest of her life, something she could remember happily anytime. If she went with that old man taking pictures, do you think she would be as happy as she was during that week? I found her thinking strange. Maybe women's brains are structured differently from men's.

Looking at her as she spoke, I noticed something unusual in her eyes. I felt that what she said wasn't just a spontaneous expression of feeling, but something she had thought about for a long time. In that unusual look, I clearly saw a longing. Of course, her longing might not be for me at all. Because I didn't think I could be as charming as that old man on TV. Perhaps encouraged by her gaze, I no longer felt embarrassed about my erection, and a desire to show it off arose within me. I stood up, pretending to wash my hands, which were oily from eating pumpkin pancakes. I saw her slightly surprised expression, because my little brother was bravely pressing against my crotch. The lights in her kitchen were dim because she had turned off the main light after making the pumpkin pancakes. The dim light made me feel comfortable, as if it could hide many things. I was washing my hands, but there was no soap, so I asked her for some.

She bent down to get me some Safeguard soap from the cabinet under the sink. She was probably out of soap, because she was still bent over unpacking the large bag of Safeguard. Her head was very close to my erection, her hair and body exuding a mixed, alluring scent. Her wide-necked t-shirt revealed her pink neck, red earlobes, and a deep cleavage. Her black lace bra barely covered her two red nipples. Her full buttocks were raised, her thighs stretched taut and elastic in this position. I felt I couldn't resist anymore. I gently swayed my body, intentionally or unintentionally touching her hair with my penis. The first time, she didn't pay attention; she was about to open the bag of soap. The second and third time I touched her, she stopped and slowly raised her head. Actually, I think I should have been scared then, but I wasn't. I stared straight at her, my body still swaying. Several netizens said my eyes were electrifying while we were eating at a restaurant. I didn't know it myself, but I think my eyes might have really been electrifying then, because I felt her eyes gradually becoming hazy. I went up and hugged her, and started kissing the roots of her hair!

My hand rested on her chest, my lips brushing against her hair, nibbling at her rosy earlobe. I expected her to resist, but she didn't. She merely tried to push my hand away, but instead, she pressed it firmly against her breast. My hand practically sank in, because her breasts were indeed large. I touched her nipple and began rubbing it with my palm, my fingers moving rhythmically, trying to savor its softness. A soft "gurgle" came from her throat, and she hugged me even tighter, so tightly that I could barely let go of my hand on her chest. I pulled my hand away, lifted the wide undershirt that had been making my heart race, and ran it up her back. Her back was smooth and textured, like the feel of fine Yixing purple clay, only warmer and softer. I began to kiss her neck, her snow-white skin smelling of milk. The skin on her neck was so soft that I could suck on it, savoring it slowly with my tongue.

Her arms flared across my chest, I couldn't tell what she was trying to do, it seemed like a struggle, or perhaps she wanted to hold me tighter. Her eyes were closed, her head tilted back, giving me plenty of space to kiss her neck, but her hands were definitely hindering my movements. I pulled my arms out of her t-shirt and wrapped them tightly around her, while my lips became even more frenzied, a desire to conquer burning within me. Her arms were held firmly against my chest, her hands crossed and resting on my crotch. I bit her left nipple through her clothes, feeling a hard, indistinct sensation, but she had already begun to moan. I felt her movements; her hands started trying to grasp my penis through my pants, but she couldn't quite manage it because the pants were too slippery, causing me to involuntarily twitch slightly. Perhaps stimulated by this, she began to kiss my ear, inserting her hot tongue into my ear canal, sending a tingling sensation through me.

The clothes hindering our movements only fueled our excitement, and we began to go wild.

Her room was right next to the kitchen. The dog was still squatting by the door. I wanted to pick her up, but she was almost 170cm tall and very voluptuous; I was afraid I couldn't lift her. I let go of her, and she pulled her hand back. I noticed that the zipper on my pants had been unzipped without me noticing. I took her hand and gestured for her to go to the bed. She was very obedient. I had never been to their bedroom before; I usually just peeked in from the living room. Today, I felt like the master, so I took her hand, sat down on the edge of her bed, and leaned over to kiss her lips. Her lips were thick, and she readily offered her tongue. I didn't dare suck too hard, afraid of hurting her. I just circled around her tongue, sucking the saliva that flowed from under it. The area under her tongue was soft, the warmest part of her mouth, and I couldn't help but lick it a few more times. I enveloped her tongue with mine, and she seemed to enjoy it, starting to play with my penis. This made all the veins on my penis bulge.

I started to take off her clothes. Her clothes came off easily, and her skirt came off easily too. Her body was really white, even with a hint of red. She was such a well-maintained woman. I even felt a sense of jealousy. Human nature is really complicated. I remember watching "Paradise Lost" before, where they chose death at the height of their climax. The greatest pleasure and the greatest pain are so closely related. Just like when I saw such a flawless body, all I could think of was destruction and devastation. Of course, this was just a feeling.

As I was taking off her clothes, she had already pulled my outer pants halfway down. I straightened up and took off my t-shirt, and saw her smiling slightly at me. I didn't know what she meant by that smile; maybe she was laughing at herself. I smiled back and pulled down half of my pants. She turned over, unhooked her bra, and pulled down her red panties, but didn't turn around, probably because she was shy, as if waiting for me to pounce on her. Suddenly, I didn't want to pounce on her immediately. I felt this feeling was wonderful. I knew that in a few minutes, on their bed, the sounds I had heard for so many years would be heard again, only with a different male protagonist. She curled up her legs, her back to me, her snow-white buttocks like a cute face waiting for me. A gray-black slit in the middle of her buttocks led to another side that I couldn't see. The silly dog at the door of the room stared at us with its big eyes and tongue lolling out. All of this made me feel very excited, but I wanted to slowly savor this excitement. I started rubbing my feet back and forth on her snow-white and pink soles and ankles.

She enjoyed the teasing, giggling and trying to clamp my legs around hers. She actually managed to trap mine. I could have broken free, but I didn't. I pressed my body against hers, my chest against her back. She began to tremble slightly. My hands encircled her, kneading her large breasts, my fingers gently flicking her nipples. It felt so real; she clearly enjoyed it, as she began to moan softly. My penis slid back and forth against her buttocks, occasionally touching her slit, eliciting a heavy moan from her. Her hands gripped mine, kneading her breasts together. My movements grew more vigorous—my chest, my belly—I wanted to rub every inch of my skin against hers. My penis began to throb aimlessly in her slit, and her moans grew louder. I felt every vein in my body begin to throb and throb, yearning for release.

She couldn't help but start writhing her body, clearly wanting to increase the friction on her buttocks, which aroused me even more. She cried out and finally couldn't resist turning over, pulling me tightly into her arms. Lying on her breasts felt wonderful—or perhaps "wonderful" isn't the right word. They were warm, and I could see the shape they had been squeezed into. I didn't kiss her mouth; instead, I bit her nipple, holding it in my mouth and swirling it with my tongue. My mouth wanted to swallow her entire breast whole, but it was futile. Knowing it was impossible, I still tried again and again to open my mouth to take it in. This caused her to convulse in pain, clutching my head tightly, trying to push me away. She pushed me away halfway, then pressed my head back into her warm chest. She started rubbing my ear with her other breast. I think she was enjoying it. My hand slid down to her stomach, gently stroking her navel. Helpless, she squeezed my red penis tightly between her soft, white inner thighs, like the flesh under a fish's belly.

We both started moving, and it became more and more rhythmic. My penis was already quite wet, but it was all smeared on her thighs. She started reaching down to caress my testicles. She felt they were very soft and rubbed them there. I was afraid that she might damage my testicles in her excitement, but it felt really good, like a steel rod thrusting forward, feeling a solid foundation behind me. My hand groped its way to her bottom, which was a wet, hot crevice, hotter than anywhere else on her body. I pinched a labia majora with my fingers; it was slippery and warm. I gently twisted it between my fingers, which made her hips wiggle constantly. I was also very excited, as if I had learned to use minimal force to achieve maximum effect. After doing this for a while, I inserted my fingers inside. They felt very tender and smooth. I carefully dug upwards, afraid of hurting her with my nails. It was very hot inside, and I even thought of a warm bed in winter. She didn't do anything, just kept moaning, her voice rising and falling. Indeed, she couldn't do anything, she could only enjoy it.

My fingers moved upwards, touching something hard. Her moans were so loud they frightened me; it was probably her uterus. She was really aroused. She released the large lump between my penis and gripped it tightly, circling it vigorously up and down. Her actions made me cry out. Looking back, I saw the veins bulging, being squeezed and thrashed in her hand. I finally couldn't take it anymore. I moved upwards, placing my penis at the entrance of her wet, reddened vulva. I started thrusting, each impact sending a tingling sensation through my glans. She grabbed it and shoved it inside, mumbling "in, in." My penis was really hard, so hard it was starting to bend upwards. I felt like I was going to go in.

I intended to thrust all the way in; I think any man would react similarly at this point. However, because I was supported by her pelvis, I didn't feel myself going all the way in. My lower abdomen bones even ached slightly from the impact. She seemed a little surprised because I slowed down due to the pain. She seemed embarrassed and opened her eyes, suggesting I sit on her. I readily accepted this position; I privately considered it the most classic sex position, at least for men. She rolled onto my lower abdomen with her hair disheveled, reached behind her, stuck out her buttocks, picked up my penis, and slowly moved it to the entrance of her vagina, saying, "Come on!" My thrust and her shrug were almost simultaneous. We both yelled at the same time as my glans slammed against her uterine wall. At that moment, I heard the sound of that stupid dog running away, perhaps frightened by our shouts.

I began to thrust, each stroke hitting her hard uterine wall. For me, the most stimulating part was this impact, not the friction I'd hoped for from inside, because she was so slippery inside, the friction was minimal. Her hips moved in perfect sync with my thrusts, gradually becoming rhythmic. I thought that if there were some high-pitched music playing at this moment, it would be even more sensual. I admired her; her long, messy hair cascaded down her chest, her full breasts undulated rhythmically with her hips. I couldn't resist reaching out to grasp them, savoring them. Her waist and hips displayed a sexy, perfect curve under the light, her snow-white skin glistening with tiny beads of sweat from excitement. Her lower abdomen was constantly undulating, and I was excited because there was a part of her inside me. I embraced this voluptuous, mature woman, fucking her to my heart's content, savoring it fully, immersing myself in the soft, blissful state... ( The last sentence is a website
address and doesn't translate directly.)

URL 1:https://www.sexlove5.com/htmlBlog/133814.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=133814&aspx=1

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The story of sleeping with the neighbor's wife is now complete.

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