A woman's personal account of her repeated infidelity~

Moaning during normal sex is normal for all women, and the screams during orgasm are uncontrollable; these are all normal phenomena. However, loud moaning before orgasm is usually faked, used to stimulate the man. Every woman, throughout her life, has some degree of this faked stimulation in her sex life.

Because I am a woman, and one with a very healthy body, I normally only experience orgasm 1-2 times per night. Having read so many posts, many of which are filled with men claiming their partners orgasm 4-5 times per night, as a woman, I believe that's all just a show for men. She wants you to stay, implies you're great, and then says, "I've orgasmed, I'm so tired, please let me go," or she has some value to him, like money or something else. After reading

so many bizarre stories on Wei Zong's public account—lesbians, bisexuals, children not being biologically related—it's all sorts of weird stuff. I'd shamelessly ask everyone to comment on how great it is.

Okay, let's get back to the point. I grew up in a bustling metropolis, born in the 1960s. I'm pretty, with fair skin and long legs. I'm 167cm tall and have a great presence.

I grew up in a large family where my parents were loving and never fought. I dreamed of a passionate love and a happy marriage, spending my life with the person I loved.

When I was ten, I don't know why, but I would always find myself squeezing my legs together in my sleep, one hand holding a piece of cloth, the other hand stamping something, finishing with rapid breathing. It always happened in my sleep. As I grew older, I realized it felt good, but for over ten years I didn't understand anything about it. In

those days, you almost always started working after nine years of school. My father's company was hiring, and I went to work there. My father was a relatively powerful leader in the company. I chose the workshop I wanted to work in. My best friend, whom I'd known since childhood, was in another workshop, the same one as my ex-husband.

My friend introduced my ex-husband to me because he was tall, handsome, and 180cm.

I'd seen him before and thought he was handsome, but lacked masculinity. I didn't want to ask him out, but my best friend had already asked him if he had a girlfriend. So, I reluctantly agreed. After we met, I felt he was alright in conversation and didn't seem to have any bad habits, so we started dating—my first love.

We started holding hands, watching movies, hugging, and kissing. Six months later, he said his neighborhood was going to be demolished. If we registered our marriage, he'd give us an extra apartment.

To my surprise and dismay, we registered our marriage that night. We stayed together.

Hugging and kissing, his breathing became rapid. He started taking off my underwear piece by piece, and then he started taking off his own clothes.

When I saw his penis, I was horrified—it was huge and erect.

I thought, "Oh no, what is this? This isn't deformed!" In my memory, I'd only ever seen a little boy's penis. What was I going to do? We were already registered.

Who could I ask about this? This thought quickly passed.

He continued to be affectionate, caressing me, and slowly inserted his huge, erect penis into my vagina. Because I was still a virgin, it hurt a lot. It hurt too much, so I rested for a while and then started again, little by little. When it entered, deep inside, and finally all the way in, it felt like paradise. It rubbed all over my body. That place was itchy. We were both breathing rapidly, thrusting quickly. It

was so itchy, and during orgasm, I howled like a wolf, releasing my pent-up desires. For the first time, it was a true union between a man and a woman. From that day on, I ended more than ten years of masturbation and began experiencing every physiological need between a man and a woman.

Later, I became pregnant, and the seed of love slowly sprouted and grew inside me.

As a woman, I was truly afraid, afraid of the pain of childbirth.

I was due in a month. He knew a doctor at a big hospital who had a C-section himself. He whispered in my ear that a C-section was good, that afterward my private parts would be like a young girl's, and my husband would never run away. In the end, I had a C-section and gave birth to a daughter.

As we went through the daily grind, I slowly discovered he was a mama's boy.

Although he was tall, he was incredibly petty. He wouldn't allow me to look at any man twice, nor would he allow me to speak to any man first. Even if I spoke a few words to my brother-in-law, I'd get a lecture when I got home. If he saw someone with a boyfriend, he'd say, "Are you trying to find a rich man too?"

We started arguing constantly. Day after day, year after year. He started hitting me. I couldn't fight him, what could I do? I thought to myself, I'm afraid to divorce him because I'm vain. I'm such an outstanding person. How can I let others laugh at me? So I endured it.

Besides, I had a daughter, and she stayed with me. I couldn't possibly find another man. I didn't feel comfortable if the child stayed with him; I believed men weren't as good at taking care of daughters as women.

I set my sights on another department and asked my father to transfer me there.

Soon after arriving, I discovered the other department was better—higher salary, and they always gave out bonuses.

I wondered if I should go there myself, or transfer my husband there? In the end, I decided to have my father transfer him. This marriage, despite our unequal social standing, somehow elevated his circumstances. There, everyone was a bit more sophisticated.

Gradually, he started belittling me at home, saying I was no good, no good at anything, while others at his workplace were all so kind and helpful.

I was seething with rage! He often had to travel for work, leaving for ten days or half a month each time. Every time he left, I cried as I saw him off. I was worried and unaccustomed to it.

One day at work, I suddenly saw a familiar face—my neighbor's brother-in-law.

He had visited his sister's house one summer, and we had only met a few times. I thought he was very handsome then, and looked a bit like my younger brother, but we had never spoken.

After this meeting, we learned that we were both married with children, and we started seeing each other more often. From then on, he frequently gave me gifts and showed me concern.

From then on, I finally found emotional support. When my husband was home, we still occasionally argued, leaving bruises on my arms. Then

one time he went on a business trip.

To get revenge on him, and also for my own sake…

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A woman's personal account of her repeated infidelity~

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