Tomorrow I'll be someone else's woman.

(I) December 10, 2002. Exactly one year ago, Xiao Yan really flew away to France to marry a man more than ten years her senior. I was in a very bad mood that day. But I couldn't stop it from happening, because she was just my lover, my best lover.

Although I never said I loved her, I truly realized when she left that seven years of relationship, if not love, was very close to the edge of love.

Three days before she left, as usual, I called her at noon to confirm she was free, and then booked a room at a nearby hotel.

Xiao Yan arrived at the hotel quickly. I was idly playing games on my phone and, as usual, didn't go to take a shower first. I hadn't locked the door, so when Yan tiptoed to my side, I was really startled.

She was wearing a red sweater and a yellow jacket. Her long hair was slightly smoky. She was thirty years old, yet still so beautiful and charming. With her full breasts, although not tall, she was captivating.

"You startled me," I said, laughing as I put my phone away.

"I'm sorry," Yan said, snuggling into my arms with a smile.

"Have you got your plane ticket all sorted out?" I whispered in her ear, gently inhaling the scent of her hair.

"Yes," Yan replied softly, her beautiful eyes blinking.

A pang of pain shot through me. Although Yan had never told me her real purpose for going to France, I knew she was getting married. Although she repeatedly told me she was only visiting her uncle and had only gotten a one-month visitor visa, I knew she was getting married.

More than two months ago, Yan asked me to translate some English for her visa application. But I inadvertently found a letter, the contents of which told me everything.

In the past month, I had asked her out three times. This was far more frequent than our usual dates. I knew she was leaving, but I hadn't told her. In fact, I knew she was getting married.

"Yan, come here," I said, pulling Yan to the sofa. I sat on the sofa, and Yan obediently sat on my lap.

"Kneel down, kneel between my legs," I commanded. I had never ordered her to do anything before, though she always did.

"What's wrong?" Yan asked, somewhat surprised, but still obediently did as I said.

I didn't say anything, just unzipped my pants and took out my penis. It was already erect, standing tall.

Yan knelt before me, kissing it earnestly, taking it into her mouth, and moving her head. Her loose hair gently brushed against my lower abdomen, tickling me, yet stirring my emotions.

Bright red lipstick left streaks of blood on my penis, but these were quickly blurred by her saliva.

I knew this was the last time. My heart ached. Although it's my nature to cherish women, I no longer felt sorry for her. Thinking of her future husband, my heart felt so lost.

I made her release her grip on the base of my penis and said, "I want you to swallow it all."

Yan was somewhat surprised and said, "I've never tried this before."

Of course, I knew she had never tried it before, but this was her first time, and possibly my last.

I pressed her head down hard, and she tried her best to push my penis deep into her throat. The first time she choked a little, but the second time it was fine.

I don't know if the tip of my penis had reached beyond her throat, all the way to her esophagus. But it was certain that my penis was completely in her mouth. The tip of my penis was completely enveloped, so soft, so warm. I thought, this must be the art of deep throating.

The fleshy walls surrounding the tip of my penis began to undulate, rubbing against my glans with extreme pleasure. I thrust back and forth, short and careful, but decisively.

I was surprised that Yan didn't vomit. I knew that this method was very comfortable for men, but definitely uncomfortable for women. But I couldn't care less; I just wanted to go deeper and deeper, because tomorrow she was marrying someone else.

Although it was only for a few dozen seconds, I plunged deep into her throat. I could really feel it; here was the entrance to her throat, and there, probably her esophagus. That feeling, that intense yet gentle writhing, the stimulation of being enveloped by the unfamiliar flesh of her mouth, was just to make myself remember her deeply, because tomorrow she was going to marry someone else.

I knew she couldn't hold on any longer, so I let her go. Yan rushed to the bathroom and vomited there. When she returned to my side, her eyes were full of tears. She knelt in front of me again, gently resting her head on my lap.

I pulled Yan up and hugged her tightly. I knew that after seven years, it was finally time for us to break up. My heart ached terribly. The past years flashed before my eyes.

(II) Four or five years ago, I met a college friend on a train. We talked about women, and his opinion was that it was better to pay for a prostitute than to have a lover, because having a lover took time, energy, and money.

I, however, had a completely different view from his. I had never visited a prostitute, but I had always maintained contact with my extramarital lover. Between lovers, though we never spoke of love, the feelings deepened over time.

A woman with feelings, refreshing yet charming, is truly wonderful as a lover; she complements marriage and family. I don't demand that my lover be my only one, but I only require that she respect herself, because that commands respect. Regarding Xiaoyan, I was her second man. In those seven years, while I wasn't her only one, I was her last man before she married. Please don't attack me.

It was the summer of 1995.

"I'm a military wife, are you afraid?" Xiaoyan said to me with a smile.

Although I had received many threats and even been disciplined for fighting in school, Xiaoyan's words were the most unsettling. I was so afraid that, even though it was eight years ago, I still couldn't describe in detail the scene of our first intimate encounter. Even though it was just a kiss.

"Wait a minute, I'm not married yet, how could you be married?" After a long pause, I finally realized what she meant, suppressing my panic, and asked her doubtfully.

"Hehe, my boyfriend is in the army."

I have absolute respect for soldiers. Although it was just a kiss, I felt deeply remorseful for my mistake.

After obediently taking her home, I never had any further thoughts about her, so we remained just good friends and colleagues.

In the spring of '96, I got married. Xiao Yan came too, and I remember she drank a lot. Later, her friend who saw her off told me that she cried in the car. At the time, I just felt a little strange because our relationship wasn't that deep; maybe she was just thinking about something sad. The answer wouldn't be known until our first time together.

But this incident caused some rumors at work. However, Xiao Yan and I had a clear conscience, so we didn't care and continued our friendly interactions, but it seemed that there was a greater sense of concern and intimacy in our hearts.

In the summer of '96, a full year had passed since my first kiss with Xiao Yan. Xiao Yan didn't come to work for a week. I was puzzled and called her home. She invited me to a bar.

"I broke up with him." These were the first words Xiao Yan said to me.

Xiao Yan hadn't changed much; she was still beautiful and didn't seem as sad, but her mood was clearly low.

If she had seemed more sorrowful, I think I would have hugged her. But she was so calm that I could only sit quietly and listen to her story.

Xiaoyan's boyfriend's parents were officials in the Public Security Bureau and knew her parents. When Xiaoyan was still in college, her brother got into trouble, so her parents asked them for help. The matter was resolved, of course, but Xiaoyan also became that man's girlfriend. Her boyfriend wasn't handsome and didn't get into university. But because of his good background, he quickly became an officer in the armed police.

Xiaoyan gave him her virginity, but he never cherished her. They broke up because he had a new girlfriend. Although Xiaoyan always knew her boyfriend's temper, she endured it until now. She talked for about half an hour, becoming more and more heartbroken, and tears streamed down her face. I felt very sorry for her, but I knew there was nothing I could do to help her.

That night she drank a lot. I only drank a little because I had to go home that night.

When I took her to her door, Yan was already calm. She said to me, "I'm going to work tomorrow. Thank you for being with me."

I wanted to hug her, but I was afraid that the action would seem like taking advantage of her, so I restrained myself. Yan smiled at me, waved, and turned and disappeared into the dark corridor. I didn't leave until her room light came on. A sudden sense of relief washed over me. What would tomorrow bring? Sigh, what a lecherous man.

Three months later, the weather had turned cold. A construction project in Nanjing had run into some problems, and I had to go there personally. Before leaving, I ran into Yan. She said to me, "What a coincidence! I'm also going to Nanjing the day after tomorrow. Can you wait for me? Can we go together?"

Our company was large, and Yan and I weren't in the same department, so no one knew we were going together. I made up an excuse to delay for a day and secretly boarded the train to Nanjing with Yan.

She was the only person I knew on the train, so I felt very happy. I often stared at her, and the only thing I said most often was, "Yan, you're so beautiful."

We arrived in Nanjing together, but we were going to different places. Mustering my courage, I asked her to meet me that evening. Yan happily agreed. Because we weren't familiar with the area, we met at the train station, agreeing not to bring any colleagues and to keep it a secret.

It was a happy night. We went to Xinjiekou hand in hand, then to Nanjing University. Around ten o'clock, I said to Yanzi, "Don't go back, stay with me tonight."

Yanzi shyly nodded in agreement. The rest was simple. I went to book a room by myself and took Yanzi to a hotel whose name I've forgotten.

There were no extra words. Once in the room, I hugged her tightly, and she hugged me back.

I explored Yanzi's lips. She raised her head, closed her eyes, and slightly opened her mouth. I kissed her deeply.

I passionately sucked on her tongue; she felt a little pain and groaned softly.

I pressed her against the wall, caressing her breasts. She didn't resist, only kissed me forcefully, her breathing rapid.

I took off her coat, pulled up her sweater, and easily unhooked her bra. Her firm, full breasts sprang out, appearing before my eyes. Her delicate, white skin and pink nipples had hardened.

I lowered my head and took one of her breasts into my mouth. I tried to take her breasts all the way into my mouth, though I knew it was impossible. I teased her swollen nipples with my tongue, circling them and feeling them grow bigger. I kneaded

her other breast with my other hand, and Yan held my head, moaning softly. A sea of desire engulfed us.

I laid Yan down on the bed, quickly stripped off our clothes, and slipped under the covers. Passion needs no foreplay. My young penis was already hard. I knew the night was long, and I had many opportunities. I parted her

legs, aimed at her peach blossom cave, and thrust in all the way.

The bedside lamp was on, illuminating Yan's pink face, her long eyelashes pressed together, and I couldn't see the thoughts in her eyes.

I lay on top of her, letting my penis thrust in and out of her vagina. I didn't even get a good look at her genitals, only feeling the pubic hair there, rubbing against my groin, making it itchy and uncomfortable.

Yan was very wet, the fluids flowing all the way to the sheets. She was also very excited, breathing heavily. Yan was somewhat restrained, only spreading her legs, feeling my movements inside her, but offering little additional cooperation.

I've never quite believed that a passionate man could last so long the first time with his lover. Every time I was with Yan after that, I always needed to be very restrained to avoid ejaculating too early the first time.

Soon I felt my climax approaching. I didn't try to control it, but instead quickened my movements. I knew I should consider Yan's feelings and help her reach orgasm. But I also knew there was still a whole night ahead, and I had many more opportunities.

(Only today did I suddenly realize that this night was the only complete night Yan and I would have, and from now on, it would only be half a day. This suddenly filled me with a strange sadness.) Yan seemed to suddenly realize something, pulling me into her arms, holding me tightly, her legs wrapped around my back. We kissed passionately, and I increased the depth and intensity of my movements.

Afraid she'd get pregnant, I forcefully broke free from her embrace and ejaculated onto her stomach. Yan looked at me and said something I'll never forget: "It's so hot."

During the shower, there was no longer any shyness. We acted like a couple who had been married for years, lathering each other with shower gel. I kissed her breasts frequently, and even knelt down to kiss her clitoris.

Her labia were quite plump, with pink, tender flesh inside, and her vaginal opening was small. Hot water poured down her body, wetting my face. I kissed her with my eyes closed, taking her clitoris into my mouth. Yan wasn't used to it and quickly tried to pull me up.

I wanted Yan to kiss my genitals, but she refused, saying she wasn't used to it. I didn't force her. But I wasn't unhappy either. I understood; Yan didn't have much experience yet, and there were many aspects that needed to be explored.

When we returned to bed, Yan lay naked in my arms. Her smooth skin and rounded shoulders shimmered pleasingly in the light. Soft breasts pressed against my chest, long hair cascading over my shoulders. I felt happy and lucky.

"Yan, I heard you cried at my wedding?" I finally asked the question that had been bothering me for so long.

"Yes. But don't be vain, it wasn't for you," Yan said, wrinkling her nose at me.

A slight disappointment welled up inside me, but I didn't say anything. After all, a man shouldn't ask for too much.

"Then why?"

"You got married so young," Yan said casually, a seemingly unrelated remark that made me sigh.

Yes, I got married at twenty-seven, while many of my friends didn't even have a partner then.

"Yeah, my wife pressured me, and besides, I didn't want to drag her along any longer."

Yan suddenly leaned forward and said earnestly, "I really like you, do you believe me?"

I didn't say anything, just hugged her tightly again. Women are emotional creatures. And often, feelings don't need a reason. Girls in the 1970s read a lot of romance novels and were greatly influenced by them; they often liked someone without a reason. I'm quite handsome and rose to a middle management position at my workplace quite early. Several girls liked me, so I genuinely believed what she said.

I couldn't help but wonder, if she hadn't told me she was a military wife, and if I were her first man, would I have left my girlfriend for Yanzi? Thinking about it carefully, the answer is no. Although my wife isn't as beautiful as Yanzi, I have a greater sense of responsibility towards her. This responsibility falls on anyone. (One) December 10, 2002. Exactly one year ago, Xiaoyan really flew away to France to marry that man who was about ten years older than her. I was in a very bad mood that day. But I couldn't stop it from happening, because she was just my lover, my best lover.

Although I never said I loved her, it was only when she left that I realized that seven years of relationship, if not love, was very close to the edge of love.

Three days before she left, as usual, I called her at noon to confirm she was free, then went to a nearby hotel and booked a room.

Xiao Yan arrived at the hotel quickly. I was idly playing games on my phone and, as usual, didn't go to take a shower first. I hadn't locked the door, so when Yan tiptoed to my side, I was genuinely startled.

She was wearing a red sweater and a yellow jacket. Her long hair was slightly tanned. She was thirty years old, yet still so beautiful and charming. With her full breasts, though not tall, she was captivating.

"You startled me," I said, laughing as I put my phone away.

"I'm sorry," Yan smiled and snuggled into my arms.

"Have you finished the plane ticket procedures?" I whispered in her ear, gently inhaling the fragrance of her hair.

“Yes.” Xiao Yan blinked her beautiful eyes and said softly to me.

A pang of pain welled up in my heart. Although Yan had never told me her real purpose for going to France, I knew she was going to get married. Although she repeatedly told me that she was only going to see her uncle and had only obtained a one-month visitor visa, I knew she was going to get married.

More than two months ago, Yan asked me to help her translate English, saying it was for her visa application. But I inadvertently found a letter, the contents of which told me everything.

In the past month, I had asked her out three times. This was much more frequent than our usual dates. I knew she was leaving, but I hadn't told her. In fact, I knew she was getting married.

“Yan, come here.” I pulled Yan to the sofa. I sat down on the sofa, and Yan obediently sat on my lap.

“Kneel down, kneel between my legs,” I commanded her. I had never ordered her to do anything before, although she had always done it very well.

“What’s wrong?” Yan was a little surprised, but still obediently did as I said.

I didn't say anything, just unzipped my pants and took out my penis. It was already erect, standing tall and proud.

Yan knelt before me, kissing it passionately, taking it into her mouth, and moving her head. Her loose hair gently brushed against my lower abdomen, tickling me, yet stirring my emotions.

Bright red lipstick left streaks of blood on my penis, but these were quickly blurred by her saliva.

I knew this was the last time. My heart ached. Although it's my nature to cherish women, I no longer felt sorry for her. Thinking of her future husband, my heart felt so lost.

I made her release her grip on the base of my penis and said to her, "I want you to swallow it all."

Yan was somewhat surprised and said, "I've never tried this before."

Of course, I knew she had never tried it before, but this was her first time, and it might be my last for her.

I pressed her head down hard, and she tried to push my penis deep into her throat. The first time she choked a little, but the second time it was perfectly fine.

I don't know if the tip of my penis had reached the back of her throat, all the way to her esophagus. But it was certain that my penis was completely inside her mouth. The tip of my penis was completely enveloped, so soft, so warm. I thought, this must be deep throating.

The fleshy walls surrounding the tip of my penis began to undulate, rubbing against my glans with extreme pleasure. I thrust in and out, short and careful, but resolutely.

I was surprised that Xiaoyan didn't vomit. I knew that this method was very comfortable for men, but definitely uncomfortable for women. But I couldn't care less about that; I just wanted to go deeper, deeper, because she was marrying someone else tomorrow.

Although it was only for a few dozen seconds, I thrust deeply into her throat. I could really feel it here, and there, probably her esophagus. And that feeling, that intense, gentle undulation, the stimulation of being enveloped by the strange flesh of her mouth, was just to make myself remember her deeply, because she was marrying someone else tomorrow.

I knew she couldn't hold on any longer, so I let her go. Yan rushed to the bathroom and vomited there. When she returned to my side, her eyes were full of tears. She knelt before me again, gently resting her head on my lap.

I pulled Yan up and hugged her tightly. I knew that after seven years, it was finally time for us to break up. My heart ached. Scenes from the past flashed before my eyes.

(II) Four or five years ago, I met a college friend on a train. We talked about women, and his opinion was that it was better to pay for a prostitute than to have a lover, because having a lover took time, energy, and money.

I completely disagreed with his view. I never went to a prostitute, but I maintained contact with my extramarital lover. Although we never spoke of love, our feelings deepened over time.

A woman with feelings, refreshing yet charming, is a good lover; she complements marriage and family. I don't require my lover to be my only one, but I do require her to be self-respecting, because that earns respect. As for Xiao Yan, I was her second man. In those seven years, although I wasn't her only one, I was the last man she had before she got married. Please don't throw things at me.

It was the summer of 1995.

"I'm a military wife, are you scared?" Xiaoyan said to me with a smile.

Although I had received many threats and even been disciplined for fighting in school, Xiaoyan's words were the most unsettling. I was so afraid that, even though it was eight years ago, I still couldn't describe the scene of our first intimate encounter in detail. Although it was just a kiss.

"Wait a minute, I'm not even married, how could you be married?" After a long pause, I finally realized what she meant, suppressing my panic, and asked her doubtfully.

"Hehe, my boyfriend is in the army."

I have absolute respect for soldiers. Although it was just a kiss, I felt deeply remorseful for my actions.

After obediently taking her home, I never had any further thoughts about her, and we remained just good friends and colleagues.

In the spring of '96, I got married. Xiaoyan came too, and I remember she drank a lot. Later, a friend who saw her off told me that she cried in the car. At the time, I just felt a little strange, because our relationship wasn't that deep; perhaps she was just thinking about something sad. The answer wouldn't be known until our first time together.

But this incident caused some gossip at work. Xiaoyan and I had a clear conscience, so we didn't pay attention and continued our friendly interactions, though there seemed to be a deeper concern and intimacy in our hearts.

In the summer of '96, a full year had passed since my first kiss with Xiaoyan. Xiaoyan hadn't come to work for a week. I was curious and called her home. She invited me to a bar.

"I broke up with him," were the first words Xiaoyan said to me.

Xiaoyan hadn't changed much; she was still beautiful and didn't seem particularly sad, but her mood was clearly low.

If she had seemed sad, I think I would have hugged her. But she was so calm that I could only sit quietly and listen to her story.

Xiaoyan's boyfriend's parents were officials in the Public Security Bureau and knew her parents. When Xiaoyan was still in university, her brother got into trouble, so her parents asked them for help. The matter was resolved, of course, but Xiaoyan also became that man's girlfriend. Her boyfriend wasn't handsome and hadn't gone to university. But because of his good background, he quickly rose to an officer position in the armed police.

Xiao Yan gave him her virginity, but he never cherished her. They broke up because he had a new girlfriend. Although Xiao Yan knew her boyfriend's temper, she endured it all until now. She talked for about half an hour, becoming increasingly heartbroken, tears streaming down her face. I felt sorry for her, but knew I couldn't help her.

That night she drank a lot. I only drank a little because I had to go home that night.

When I took her to her door, Yan was already calm. She said to me, "I'm going to work tomorrow. Thank you for being with me."

I wanted to hug her, but I was afraid that would seem like taking advantage of her, so I restrained myself. Yan smiled at me, waved, and disappeared into the dark corridor. I didn't leave until her room light came on. A sudden sense of relief washed over me. What would tomorrow bring? Sigh, lustful men.

Three months later, the weather had turned cold. A construction project in Nanjing had run into some problems, and I had to go there personally. Before leaving, I ran into Yan. She said to me, "What a coincidence! I'm also going to Nanjing the day after tomorrow. Can you wait for me? Can we go together?"

My company is big, and Yan and I aren't in the same department, so no one knew we were going together. I made up an excuse to delay for a day and secretly boarded the train to Nanjing with Yan.

She was the only person I knew on the train, so I felt very happy. I often stared at her, and the only thing I said most often was, "Yan, you're so beautiful."

We arrived in Nanjing together, but were going to different places. Mustering my courage, I asked her to meet me that evening. Yan happily agreed. Because we weren't familiar with the area, we met at the train station, agreeing not to bring any colleagues and to keep it a secret.

It was a happy night. We held hands and went to Xinjiekou, visited Nanjing University, and played until almost ten o'clock. I said to Yan, "Don't go back yet, stay with me tonight."

Yan shyly nodded in agreement. The rest was simple. I went to book a room by myself and then took Yan to a hotel whose name I've forgotten.

There were no extra words exchanged. Once inside the room, I held her tightly, and she held me just as tightly.

I explored Yan's lips; she raised her head, closed her eyes, and slightly opened her mouth, and I kissed her deeply.

I passionately sucked on her tongue, and she groaned softly in pain.

I pressed her against the wall, caressing her breasts with my hands. She didn't resist, but kissed me forcefully, her breathing rapid.

I took off her coat, pulled up her sweater, and easily unhooked her bra. Her firm, full breasts sprang out, appearing before my eyes. The delicate, white skin and the pink nipples had hardened.

I lowered my head and took one of her breasts into my mouth. I tried to take her entire breast into my mouth, though I knew it was impossible. I teased the nipple that filled my mouth with my tongue, circling it and feeling it grow larger.

I kneaded her other breast with my other hand, and Yan held my head there, moaning softly. A sea of desire engulfed us.

I laid Yan down on the bed, quickly stripped off our clothes, and slipped under the covers. Passion doesn't need foreplay. Young as I am, my penis was already hard. I knew the night was long, and I had plenty of opportunities.

I parted her legs, aimed at her vulva, and thrust in all the way.

The bedside lamp was on, illuminating Yan's pink face, her long eyelashes pressed together, obscuring the thoughts in her eyes.

I lay on top of her, letting my penis thrust in and out of her vagina. I didn't even get a good look at her genitals, only noticing the abundant hair there, the itchy, uncomfortable friction against my groin.

Yan was very wet, the fluids flowing onto the sheets, and she was also very excited, breathing heavily. Yan was somewhat restrained, simply keeping her legs apart, feeling my movements inside her, but offering no further cooperation.

I've never quite believed that a passionate man could last so long the first time with his lover. Every time I was with Yan after that, I always needed to be very restrained to avoid ejaculating too early the first time.

Soon I felt the climax approaching. I didn't try to control it, but instead quickened my movements. I knew I should be considerate of Yan's feelings and help her reach orgasm. But I also knew there was still a whole night ahead, and I had many more opportunities.

(Only today did I suddenly realize that this night was the only complete night Yan and I would have together, and from now on, we would only have half a day. This suddenly filled me with a strange sadness.) Yan seemed to suddenly realize something, pulled me into her arms, hugged me tightly, and wrapped her legs around my back. We kissed passionately, and I increased the depth and intensity of my movements.

Afraid that she would get pregnant, I forcefully broke free from her embrace and ejaculated onto her stomach. Yan looked at me and said something I will never forget: "It's so hot."

While showering, I was no longer shy. We were like a couple who had been married for many years, lathering each other with shower gel. I kissed her breasts from time to time, and even knelt down to kiss her clitoris.

Her labia were quite plump, with pink, tender flesh inside, and her vaginal opening was very small. Hot water cascaded down her body, wetting my face. I kissed her with my eyes closed, taking her clitoris into my mouth. Yan wasn't used to it and quickly tried to pull me up.

I wanted Yan to kiss my genitals, but she refused, saying she wasn't used to it. I didn't force her, but I wasn't unhappy either. I understood; Yan didn't have much experience yet, and there were many aspects to explore.

When we returned to bed, Yan lay naked in my arms. Her smooth skin, rounded shoulders, shimmered pleasingly in the light. Her soft breasts pressed against my chest, her long hair cascading over my shoulders. I felt happy and lucky.

"Yan, I heard you cried at my wedding?" I finally asked this question that had been bothering me for so long.

"Yes. But don't be vain, it wasn't for you," Yan said, wrinkling her nose at me.

A slight disappointment welled up inside me, but I didn't say anything. After all, a man shouldn't ask for too much.

"Then why?"

"You got married so young," Yan said quietly, a seemingly unrelated remark that made me sigh.

"Yes, I got married at twenty-seven, while many of my friends didn't even have a partner back then.

" "Yes, my wife pressured me to the point of no return, and besides, I didn't want to drag her along any longer,"

Yan suddenly leaned forward and said earnestly, "I really like you, do you believe me?"

I didn't say anything, just hugged her tightly again. Women are emotional creatures. And often, feelings don't need a reason. Girls in the 1970s read a lot of romance novels and were greatly influenced by them; they often liked someone without a reason. I'm quite handsome, and I reached middle management at my workplace very early on. Several girls liked me, so I genuinely believed her.

I couldn't help but wonder, if she hadn't told me she was a military wife, if I were her first man, would I have left my girlfriend for Yan? Thinking about it carefully, the answer was no. Although my wife wasn't as beautiful as Yan, I had a greater sense of responsibility towards her. This kind of responsibility wouldn't be easily abandoned by any woman.

The thought of marrying Yan occasionally crossed my mind in the years that followed, but it was always just a fleeting impulse. Especially when Xiaoyan slowly revealed that fiery passion in bed, I would always compare her to my somewhat conservative wife, and I would often sigh with envy, hoping only for the next life.

"When you got married, I thought of how my boyfriend hurt me, and I felt that your wife was so lucky, so I cried.

But it was quite sad. I wish I were the bride," Yanzi suddenly said in my arms.

Yan's words suddenly reminded me of my wife, and I felt a pang of guilt and a touch of anxiety, thinking that there was something wrong with her way of thinking. So I said, "Don't say that. If my wife knew what I'm like now, would she still be happy?"

"You know, everyone at work says you're a good husband, so good to your wife. Just don't let her know,"

Yan said, and it was true. I am a family man. But I need passion in my mundane life. I'm very good to my wife, but is she happy? I often ask myself this question now, especially after hurting her once. But at that time, I thought that as long as I was careful, I could always hide it.

"Yan, be my lover. I don't need your love, and I won't say I love you, but I hope we can be happy together, I hope I can bring you some happiness. We can be very, very good friends, we can have feelings, very deep feelings, okay?" I do

n't know if this is self-deception, but I really asked her for this. Yan didn't say anything, just held me tightly. From that moment on, Yan was destined to marry and eventually leave me, but I didn't expect that it would be six years later that she married.

After resting for a while, I felt ready again. I laid Yan down, preparing to serve her. I gently kissed her neck, breathing warm air into her ear, then slowly kissed my way up to her breasts. Her

smooth, full, and youthful breasts exuded a faint scent of post-bath fragrance. I kissed them passionately, sucking on her nipples, gently biting them with my teeth, and licking them with my tongue. Yan couldn't help but moan.

I parted her legs, intending to kiss between them. Yan pulled me away, saying, "No, it's dirty."

"It's okay, Yan, close your eyes. I want you to be happy. You will be happy."

Ignoring her protests, I buried my face between her legs. There was no unpleasant odor, only the scent of shower gel.

I parted her labia with my tongue, trying to press my tongue against her vaginal opening. A thin, viscous liquid, like egg white, seeped from the opening, which I scooped into my mouth.

As I licked her clitoris, the liquid increased, and I became frenzied. I tried to insert my tongue into her vagina, suck on her clitoris, tighten her vagina with my fingers to expose her clitoris, reach up and grab her breasts with one hand, or cover her legs with my entire mouth, hold my breath, and rub my tongue around.

Yan hummed passionately, but covered her face with her hands. I pulled her hands away and made her look at me. Yan refused, so I forced her to do so, making her open her eyes and look at me.

Yan still didn't open her eyes, but her legs suddenly clamped around my head, and she couldn't help but groan loudly. I knew she was about to climax, so I licked her even harder.

"No, no." Yan grabbed me tightly, her body twisting uncomfortably, desperately trying to move her lower body away and pulling me up.

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

"It's too stimulating, it's uncomfortable." Yan said, almost crying. I thought that oral sex was stimulating, and it might be uncomfortable when you're not used to it, so I stopped insisting.

Because I was distracted earlier, my penis didn't get erect. I said to Yan, "Yan, kiss me."

Yan obediently sat up, ready to kiss my lips. I chuckled inwardly, thinking she was silly.

"Kiss me down there, okay?"

Yan finally understood, hesitated a bit, then nodded.

Women need to be moved; that's my philosophy.

I sat on Yan's face and put my penis in her mouth. Yan's head was between my legs, sucking on my penis. Her teeth were a little bit stuck to my penis, making me uncomfortable. I asked her to pry her lips open a little, not to hurt me with her teeth, and Yan closed her eyes and did as I said. My

penis quickly swelled in her mouth, and although she didn't know how to use her tongue yet, she tried to lick me there. I held onto the edge of the bed, moving in and out of her mouth. Trying to go deeper, Yan didn't protect herself and almost choked.

A snow-white face, a black penis, red lips—Yan's mouth brought me endless pleasure. With each thrust, glistening saliva glistened on my penis, and my heart was satisfied.

When I entered her again, I felt how wet and slippery it was. The varying depths of my thrusts were incredibly pleasurable. She was very wet, and sometimes the impact made a squelching sound. Xiaoyan asked if it sounded awful, but I said it sounded wonderful.

Yan's orgasm came quickly. She kept saying "It feels so good, so good," and started squeezing my waist with her legs. I thrust with all my might, feeling her vagina contract rhythmically, sometimes so tightly it hurt my penis, as if trying to squeeze it out of her body.

But it was clear Yan wasn't really enjoying the orgasm yet, because she wasn't going wild. After a while, she just enjoyed my thrusting, but stopped contracting.

Yan wasn't used to it, but she still agreed to my request, and we changed positions. I entered her vagina from behind.

Her anus was beautiful, truly like a chrysanthemum, pink in color. I didn't know about anal sex at that time; my anal sex with Yan came much later. Seeing this flower-like woman beneath me, and my penis moving so clearly in and out of her body, was a visual treat.

Gradually, Yan became a little dry. I asked her if she had ever had an orgasm. She said she'd already done it.

Most women are probably like that at the beginning. Women who can experience orgasm right away are rare in real life.

"Then I'll cum," I said.

"Mmm," Yan nodded.

"I want to cum in your mouth, okay?" I pleaded.

"I've never done it before, next time, okay? I'm not used to it," Yan said softly.

Perhaps because she'd already had oral sex experience, Yan, though disagreeing, wasn't adamant.

"I want it, please," I said, and then, without thinking twice, I concentrated and started thrusting until a jolt of electricity shot through my brain. I pulled out my penis and moved my body to her face.

Yan obediently opened her mouth and took my penis in. I shouted, and hot liquid entered her mouth, wave after wave. Yan didn't show any discomfort, closing her eyes and holding it until it slowly softened before going to the bathroom.

"Don't think I'm bad," I said to Yan, holding her.

“No, you’re not bad, you’re a good man.” Yan smiled sweetly, showing no reproach for my earlier actions. From her eyes, I suddenly understood: Yan was a true beauty, a rare gem among women, but her potential was only just beginning to blossom. I regretted not meeting her sooner.

“Yan, am I really your second man?” I asked her.

“Yes, my God, don’t think I’m a promiscuous woman.” Yan suddenly sounded somewhat displeased.

My mind was racing. Women in the early 1970s were still a very pure generation. Would these excellent qualities still exist in China in the future?

Driven by male selfishness, I always hoped I would be Yan’s second and last man. But a lover, a lover, cannot fill the entirety of a young, lonely woman’s life, so I also believed I wouldn’t be her last.

Although I was already mentally prepared, knowing Yan would have a new boyfriend, I truly never imagined that a year later, the man appearing beside Yan would be him—someone I had never even considered.

(Part 2) Once a woman enters the world of prostitution and has her first transaction with a man, the second and third times become easier. Although she may retain a sense of purity in her heart, she may feel inferior and contempt for her body.

When a woman becomes someone's mistress for the first time, is it possible for her to become someone's mistress a second time?

The answer, I think, is definitely yes.

From the end of 1996 to 1997, Yan and I were very happy together. Two or three times a month, we would go to a hotel in the afternoon to experience the joy of passion. At work, we were very close, often having lunch and chatting together, but always maintaining a proper distance, only showing our friendly relationship.

The world is going downhill; in a large company, from the vice president and office director to the boss and secretary, all sorts of scandals constantly emerge. But there were very few rumors about me and Xiao Yan. After all, we were just small fry, not worth paying attention to. Besides, we were young and well-matched, unlike those stories of powerful and wealthy men with a significant age gap that were more attractive. Of course, most importantly, I was always very careful and discreet, never going to public places with Xiao Yan in private, so there was no evidence to provoke us.

Yan's breakup with her boyfriend was no longer news. I think her past as a military wife must have scared not only me, but also many other men. Because gradually, some young men began to express their admiration for her, and Yan would always jokingly tell me about some of these things whenever we were together.

I didn't really care about these things. I knew she should choose a better man. At the time, I thought that if she found someone she loved, I would sincerely wish her well, but I overlooked the impact I had on her life—that she became the mistress of a married man.

In May, the public relations department urgently called me, asking me to go to Shanghai for a product exhibition. Because it was a last-minute notice, I didn't know Yan was going, so I declined. As a result, Yan met him, Manager Lin, the company's head for the Shanghai region.

At the time, Manager Lin was married with children, thirty-seven or thirty-eight years old, ten years older than me, and at the same level as me in terms of position. In terms of appearance, you could say he was somewhat unattractive. But as a salesperson, he was very eloquent, thick-skinned, and dared to speak and act. Rumor has it that he amassed a fortune of nearly a million through stock trading in his early years. He's known in the company for his lecherous talk, but he's never had any real scandals because everyone knows he's not good-looking and assumes he's just joking with the young girls.

After Yan returned from Shanghai, she mentioned Lin to me, saying he was showering her with attention. I laughed it off, not taking it seriously. After all, many people liked Yan; who would care about an older man like that?

A month later, Yan was transferred from the office to a sales support role. Sales support was a lucrative position—easy work, but the salary was much higher than in the office, and many girls wanted to transfer but couldn't. Yan told me it was all thanks to Lin.

Then, suddenly, news spread throughout the company that Lin was pursuing Yan relentlessly. This was big news that year because everyone thought it was an impossible task, so everyone was curious about it. I was, of course, among those who held this view.

I always restrained my feelings for Yan. I didn't want to say I loved her, nor did I want her to love me; this was my selfishness. Therefore, although we were close in front of outsiders, I maintained a certain distance. In terms of sex, we dated about two or three times a month on average.

Gradually, Yan would always bring up the pain of her relationship and the loneliness of her life after having sex with me. I felt helpless, but there was nothing I could do to change it. I was prepared to accept the fact that she was going to find a new boyfriend, but I still didn't believe she would be with Lin, even though rumors about them were becoming more and more rampant.

A man's passion is truly terrifying. Those young men who secretly pursued Yan all disappeared without a trace in the face of Manager Lin's relentless pursuit of her. This was probably also a kind of helplessness for Yan.

Manager Lin suddenly showed me unprecedented closeness, which I hadn't expected. He worked hard to promote the products of my department and invited me to dinner. One advantage of working in the sales department is that we can often buy gifts for clients, and without exception, I would receive one of these gifts. Although I had refused many times, after finally accepting it once, I got used to it. If I were a woman, I think this was the beginning of my downfall.

I didn't say anything good about him, but instead often reminded Yan. But I didn't want to get involved in this mess and let this incident become a love triangle scandal. And that might be why Manager Lin got close to me; he achieved his goal.

I just quietly observed how things unfolded, letting a girl already tormented by her boyfriend and lover face life's choices independently. Was I a sinner? I didn't know.

Autumn arrived, more than two years after my first kiss with Lin. I hadn't seen Yan for a month.

Suddenly, I heard that Manager Lin's wife had come to the company and was making a scene. Only then did I realize that it had really happened.

I arranged to meet Yan at a hotel.

Yan's first words to me were, "I'm sorry."

"You really became his mistress?" I asked her coldly, a little angry.

"Are you unhappy?" Yan asked me cautiously.

Haha, how could I be happy? I knew this day would come. But when it actually came, I still couldn't bear it. What I couldn't bear even more was that I thought she would choose a good man to marry, but I didn't expect that she would become another man's mistress again. I knew that it was over between us.

Yan cried, hugging me and crying. A woman's tears are a weapon. I could only hold her gently. She told me about Lin's pursuit of her, how he cried, waited outside her door until dawn, threatened suicide, and bought her gifts. She also said she knew Lin was good to me too. At that moment, I thought I was a complete jerk. But regret was useless; it was a fact.

I didn't ask if Yan and Lin had slept together, because that no longer mattered. Holding her body, I didn't feel dirty; instead, I felt a pang of heartache.

Yan told me that Lin wanted to divorce his wife to marry her, so his wife refused and came to her workplace to cause trouble. She knew it was impossible for her to be with me, so if he divorced, she would marry him.

That was the only time I booked a hotel room with Yan but didn't have sex. Deep down, I still respected Lin. After all, he had guts and courage. Since he loved Yan so much, and Yan was truly moved by him, I didn't want to be the third party between them. Finally, I hugged Yan, and we left the hotel. Have

you heard the story of the toad eating swan meat? Actually, it's true. Because the toad had courage and passion. Women are easily moved, and a moved woman is capable of anything.

After the storm passed, people in the company lost interest. I heard that Manager Lin's wife refused to divorce him. Yan's parents received a new house; Lin took care of all the decoration and furniture. Later, I heard that Lin bought a house, albeit a small one, but it cost a lot of money. Therefore, Yan's parents were also won over.

Yan and I truly became friends, without any physical intimacy. But I still treated Yan the same as before, giving her small gifts on holidays and birthdays, which she always enjoyed. I know that money can't buy feelings. I was worried that Manager Lin's spending would eventually become unbearable for him.

I really hoped that Lin and Yan could get married. But having experienced passion before, I knew that if Lin's wife dragged things out for too long, Yan might get hurt again once Lin's passion for her faded. Therefore, with the woman I liked, I always released my feelings very subtly, because that's how it lasts. From

1998 to 1999, for two years, Yan wasn't with me. I was still searching for my own life, for a new emotional world, until I heard that Yan and Lin had broken up. Yan was sick.

I went to see her; she was very haggard, and it broke my heart. But I also knew it was inevitable. I comforted her, and I spoke well of Lin. It was true; I genuinely spoke well of Lin.

I told her that a man's passion is unreliable; only tenderness lasts. I told her that Lin spent so much money on her, which meant he truly loved her, because he probably understood that only money and passion were his virtues. Although she didn't care how much money he had, it was a source of pain for him, because she hadn't fallen in love with him at first sight. So when he realized he needed to spend more and more money, and his passion was fading due to his wife's torment, he finally left her and went home.

Yan slowly recovered and went back to work; everyone treated her well. The boss changed her department.

On the afternoon of December 31, 1999, the last day of the 20th century, Yan and I reunited after two years apart.

Two more years had passed; Yan was now a twenty-eight-year-old woman, mature like a blooming rose. Her skin was smooth as jade, and her body was fuller than before.

And in those two years, I too had matured more emotionally and sexually.

After showering, I led Yan to the spacious single bed. Before we separated two years ago, she had already learned many lovemaking techniques under my tutelage. Now, I don't care who she did what with, I just want to relive the joy of being with her.

Yan is always obedient to me. I'm gentle with her.

I kiss her deeply, wanting her to be happy first. I kiss her breasts, gently biting her nipples, and she pulled her fingers through my hair, messing it up.

Two years have passed, and Yan's nipples have become a deeper reddish-brown. I sighed softly in my heart: Ah, Yan, we're both getting old. Were you happy in your youth?

My tongue kissed her abdomen. Although she hadn't given birth, it wasn't as flat as before, with some extra flesh.

When my tongue touched her clitoris, Yan's body trembled slightly, and I immediately heard her moan. I paused, raising my eyes to look at her. Yan was also looking at me, her eyes full of tenderness. I smiled and buried my face in hers.

The familiar scent between her legs, so familiar, now rushed towards me again. The faint musky scent confused my senses. From light to heavy, I used my saliva mixed with her love juices to moisten her vulva again and again, feeling her clitoris hard and erect, like a peanut, which made me love and cherish it even more.

Sucking on her clitoris, I gently inserted my fingers into her vagina. The wrinkled flesh walls sucked on my fingers, and overflowing vaginal fluid flowed down my fingers and out of her vulva. I withdrew my fingers and moistened her clitoris with her fluids, gently stroking it.

My tongue went into her labia, teasing the entrance of her vagina, and with the caressing of her clitoris by my fingers, Yan's body began to twist, and she tried to clamp my head together again. But this time, I disagreed.

I made Yan lift her legs and press them against my chest, and Yan did as I said. Her buttocks were half-raised, her vulva fully stretched, and her anus bloomed before me. Two years had passed, and it seemed that only the color of this flower had not changed, still a bright pink, radiant and beautiful.

After kissing her labia and vagina again, I gently traced my tongue between her legs, moving it to her anus. I had given it a thorough wash during the bath, and it now exuded a faint, pleasant fragrance. I gently pressed my tongue against it, covering the edge with my mouth.

Yan's anus contracted instantly, she let out a loud moan, and her muscles tensed. I was pleased with her sensitivity; her pleasure filled me with joy. I circled my tongue around her anus, like licking ice cream, sliding it back and forth, occasionally sucking and pressing with the tip to stimulate her nerves.

Yan was happy, and so was I. Yan was no longer a little girl; I wanted her to serve me like a woman.

Yan knelt between my legs, taking my penis into her mouth. I gently stroked her hair, watching her swallow and release it. My penis slowly swelled in her mouth; she diligently held it, sucking on it, while I enjoyed the visual pleasure. Actually, although I enjoy it when women give me oral sex, I still feel pain for them and am always afraid they will be upset.

I asked Yan to lick my anus, and she did. Following her movements, I lifted my legs, and Yan's face disappeared behind me. Her soft tongue pressed against my anus, a jolt of electricity shot through my brain, and a tingling sensation immediately spread throughout my body.

Yan carefully licked my rear, and I sometimes contracted, sometimes relaxed, feeling the pleasure she gave me. When excited, I pressed her head down with my hand, making her press tightly against my buttocks, feeling her warm breath gently caressing my sensitive areas.

Because it was the last time in a century, and the first time we were together in two years, we were both very passionate. After entering her body, I moved with abandon. I wrapped my fingers around her buttocks from behind, where they were covered in her love juice. I dabbed some of her love juice on my fingers and gently stroked her anus.

I inserted one finger into her anus. It was tight there; pushing aside the outer muscles, the inside was even tighter, a little dry. I thoroughly lubricated her anus with the liquid, and with a forceful thrust, I inserted my finger into it.

My penis was inside her body, and through the thin walls of flesh, I could feel my finger inside her anus, which stimulated me greatly and also Yan's body. Yan breathed heavily, her vagina contracting in waves, her thighs gripping my body even tighter; I knew her orgasm was coming.

I suppressed my excitement and thrust into her vigorously, joyfully experiencing her climax. Yan sat up, half-embracing me, sucking on my nipples, gripping my body; the slapping of our bodies, accompanied by the squelching of her juices, made her body pink, her eyes filled with a dazed and infatuated look, telling me that she had truly matured.

I never ejaculated inside her, except on days when she was absolutely safe. When I climaxed, I stood up. Yan knelt before me, grasping my penis, looking at me while sucking hard on it. Many times I had her lie down to give me oral sex, but this time, I wanted to stand.

I'm not a chauvinist, but sex involves more than just physical pleasure; there's also mental and visual enjoyment. I absolutely respect Yan, but I also need to experience the taste of a man.

I filled Yan's mouth with semen, stood up, and forcefully held her head, pressing her between my legs. I ejaculated freely in her mouth, savoring the soft tongue licking my gradually softening penis.

When I pulled my penis out of her mouth, Yan spat out some semen, using my penis to slowly spread it across her lips, while smiling at me. It was an absolutely lewd scene; her eyes were on me, and I stood, looking down at her kneeling before me, her slender fingers holding my black penis, smearing the thick semen on her snow-white face. It felt really good. Thinking about it afterward, however, I felt a little sad, for reasons I won't go into.

We never repeated this action until she got married last year. And because it was the last time we made love in the twentieth century, it was deeply etched in my mind.

After resting for a while, we did the same foreplay, only changing some positions. We each took turns on all fours, our buttocks raised, serving each other, from oral sex to anal licking, and so on. This reminded me of anal sex with Yan. Two years ago, I didn't know about anal sex, but two years later, I'm a different person.

I didn't expect Lin to still have a virginity left for me. Although Yan insisted on refusing, she couldn't resist my persistence and finally agreed.

I took some shower gel as a lubricant. Of course, shower gel is irritating; if the skin is broken, it will hurt a lot, so I advise you guys not to use this stuff in the future and to buy legitimate products. Of course, I only found out about this afterward because Yan bled and was in pain; at the time, it was the only option.

Yan lay on her side on the bed, and I lay behind her. After sufficient lubrication, I first inserted my fingers into her anus to help Yan get used to it, and then slowly pushed my penis into her anus, telling her to try to relax her rear end.

I knew the penetration had to be slow, but for a woman doing this for the first time, even the slowest

movements would cause discomfort or pain, especially the moment the glans entered her anus. I had to be extremely careful then. The moment I entered, Yan said it hurt and asked me to pull out. I gently comforted her, remaining still to allow my penis to soften and lessen her pain. After a while, Yan said it was okay, so I slowly went in again. Once Yan had adjusted, she said to me, "Try moving."

I slowly began to move, fully inserting my penis into her anus. The feeling of being tightly gripped by her anal muscles brought immense pleasure, and even more so, stimulation. The tip of my penis felt empty, but the gripping area, though tight, instantly aroused me, and my penis began to grow large, filling her anus.

Yan couldn't take it anymore and told me to hurry up. I didn't want to torment her anymore; I felt terrible for her. So I focused my energy, gently but firmly thrusting in and out.

My anus adapted, the muscles of my anus flipping in and out, the stimulation was unimaginable for most people, and I ejaculated quickly.

Afterwards, Yan bled and said it hurt, but I just smiled. Later, when we did it again, she gradually got used to it. Once I asked her, "Is anal sex pleasurable?" She said, "Sometimes, it's comfortable and very stimulating." Believe me, brothers, I'm telling you, anal sex can be pleasurable, as long as you have feelings for it and are considerate. Women will experience both pain and pleasure. Actually, the hardest part is probably psychological acceptance of it. This sexual encounter at the end of the century left many deep impressions and lingering memories, so there's no need to repeat what happened afterward. I didn't originally intend to write this, but thinking that I might stop writing in the future, and since some brothers like erotic content, I'll write it down to satisfy the posting requirements of the "Sea of Love" community.

In December 2002, Yan left and married in France. Before her marriage, her parents introduced her to several men, but none of the relationships worked out. Her marriage overseas came as a huge surprise to me. I don't know if there was love in this marriage for Yan, but I sincerely wish her happiness. From

the spring of 2002 to the spring of 2003, I experienced a painful emotional ordeal; the woman in question wasn't Yan. I broke my principles as a lover and confessed my love to that woman, and from then on, things spiraled out of control. Alas, love is truly too heavy.

This year, Yan came back and gave me her phone number, but I ultimately didn't go to see her. I accept whatever comes and goes, my heart remaining unchanged. During the time Yan was back, I was deeply studying Buddhist scriptures, taking a very detached view of worldly relationships. Since then, I haven't heard from her again.

I want to thank the woman beside me now who has helped me gradually escape the shadow of last year's painful experience, and I also thank my wife for her love and tolerance over the years. I know writing this will invite criticism, but life is unpredictable, and who can truly understand matters of the heart?

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