Yang Xiaoqing's Confession 13 "Secret Thoughts" - Fear (Parts 1-3)

Yang Xiaoqing's Confession (13 Part 1) "Secret Thoughts" - Anxiety
During the period before her "current boyfriend" Fang Renkai moved to California, besides being psychologically unstable and having a chaotic life, my body was always acting strangely. I often thought I was sick, but I couldn't pinpoint what was wrong; I just felt uncomfortable. I would often go to the mirror for no reason, looking at my face and body, touching and pinching here and there. I would check for any hard lumps, swellings, skin discoloration, or blemishes. I would carefully examine my complexion and the whites of my eyes for signs of jaundice or liver disease; or stick out my tongue to observe its coating, pressing my teeth against the edges to see if any teeth marks or marks were left; at the same time, I feared I might have cancer in some organ.
Of course, this also included paying attention to my private parts and genitals. Every time I shower, I make a point of holding a small mirror and scrutinizing my vulva. I open the labia and carefully check for any growths or unevenness of the skin. Then, I deliberately rub and knead it to test the level of secretions from my genitals. When I feel a slight sensory response, I insert my fingers into my vagina to check if the vaginal walls are moist. If it feels a little wet, I stop and smell my fingers to check for any odor. Only when everything is normal do I finally relax, relieved of my anxiety, worry, and fear of aging.
Regarding my buttocks, besides standing sideways in front of a mirror to observe the curves of my hips, or standing with my back to the mirror and looking back at my reflection to check the shape and size of my buttocks, their proportion to my overall body, and whether there is any excess fat, I also use my palms to stroke the skin of my buttocks or pinch the muscles to check if they are still smooth and elastic
. Because I am deeply aware that my upper body figure is nothing special, only my waist to hips and below my thighs are somewhat presentable; so every time I sleep with a man, they all compliment my buttocks, saying that although I am thin overall, the curves of my lower body are still quite full and beautiful. And I also feel that it is fortunate that my waist is not thick, so my buttocks appear round; although they are not very perky, they are not flat and sagging either; among Eastern women, I can still be proud of them, which allows me to maintain a little bit of confidence in my figure. Whenever a man says he wants to penetrate me from behind, I will quickly do as he says, kneeling down and raising my buttocks high to welcome him.
When I touch and knead my buttocks in front of the mirror, I think of a man's hands playing with my bottom like that; his large palms feeling how tender and smooth I am, how elastic I am. As long as the light illuminates my buttocks, any flaws will not escape his eyes. Even if it doesn't spoil his mood, he will at least think that even the most alluring part of my body is not perfect! So, shouldn't I pay extra attention to it and take better care of it?
So, I use my hands to grab one buttock and pull it apart. I look back carefully at the center of the buttock mounds, observing whether the indentation in the buttock cleft is clean and flawless, and whether the exposed anus is also normal. Until my neck is tired from turning my head for too long, and because of the distance, I can't see clearly no matter how hard I try, I give up standing in front of the mirror and squat instead.
First, I took a handheld mirror and placed it flat on the tiled floor where the light was shining down. Then, I squatted over the mirror, adjusting the light and the angle of my squatting posture so that my entire perineum and anus were clearly visible under the reflection of the mirror. Holding this position, I reached down and touched the area: gently pressing with my fingertips to test the firmness and elasticity of the skin and muscles. Finally, I moistened my fingers with soap or applied a thick layer of lubricant and inserted them into my anus. While thrusting, I tightened my anus, contracting my sphincter muscles in waves, focusing on the sensation of the anal sphincter ring encircling my fingers. This was to confirm that my excretory organs were functioning normally.
This kind of "self-examination" of my body became more and more frequent, and I became increasingly worried about whether I was normal. And it wasn't just physical; I also worried psychologically whether I had fallen into an uncontrollable, "compulsive" pathological behavior.
Because whenever I did this, I forgot I was masturbating; I completely lost the passion of "sex," feeling neither the fervor of a man nor any tenderness or desire to give him love. Only the intense physical stimulation produced an uncontrollable, strange pleasure; I was both immersed in it and yearning for release. I let the unknown, masculine symbols in my mind fill and occupy my entire body, treating and dealing with them in various ways. And I willingly accepted and endured it, hoping that I could finally reach orgasm in a state of unbridled, self-forgetful indulgence.
However, even with purely "sensory" stimulation, I couldn't always reach orgasm. Sometimes, I would involuntarily think of the disease I feared; sometimes I would imagine that the man would suddenly leave my body and disappear without a trace; and sometimes, I would fear that no matter how hard I tried to please him, he would still be dissatisfied and still think I wasn't good enough...
Overwhelmed by anxiety and fear, the more I tried to escape, the less I could; my body also suffered to the extreme, and I could only desperately seek "external help": I would run to the cabinet where the towels were kept, take out the barbecue brine brush hidden at the back of the shelf, quickly wash its wooden handle, and insert it into my vagina as a "substitute" for a penis [as Zhu Wanting wrote in Chapter 25 of "Xiaoqing's Story"]. With the familiar size and texture, I could insert it into my body with more confidence, and quickly reach orgasm as if taking a shortcut.
But precisely because of this, every time I "checked" myself after the "aftermath," I would feel inexplicably empty inside, mixed with a strong sense of regret and self-blame. In particular, the fact that my fingers alone were no longer enough, and I had to rely on the wooden handle of a brush to find relief, filled me with unbearable shame. I
kept asking myself: Why, why, as I've grown older, have I become so filthy, so depraved! Why has the me of yesteryear, still young and innocent; not exceptionally beautiful, but not ugly either; once praised as a "little beauty" by elders and relatives; now fallen into such a wretched state!
So, I hurriedly flipped through my photo album, looking at pictures from high school, university, and even shortly after my marriage; I gazed again and again at that bright-eyed, pretty girl, letting my thoughts wander back to the past. Each page of memory evoked the radiant beauty and innocence of my youth; and the me in the photos, and each smiling face, brought back a touch of sweetness, re-filling my bitter heart.
Deep down, I know these fleeting, temporary memories are but fragments of life's passing, like wisps of smoke that cannot be grasped, destined to fade and vanish. The sweetness of reminiscing is merely a futile attempt by the soul to find solace. Thinking this, tears well up in my eyes. Facing the closed photo album, I can't help but fall into worry again.
This worry and fear isn't just about age and aging; it's the emptiness in my heart caused by the monotony of life, a fear of the relentless passage of time coupled with a growing resentment. Having already tasted the forbidden fruit, I've become even more greedy, unable to control myself from masturbation, sinking into a state of inescapable depravity. In each instance of regret and self-reproach, I fear my spirit might collapse at any moment.
I cannot, I cannot allow myself to be dragged into this vortex of no return; I must stop it now! The more I worry, the more I tell myself: Really! I really am just having a medical checkup. As women reach this age, they should pay more attention to all aspects of their health. Besides, my need to check my genitals or excretory organs has nothing to do with dating or relationships! Paying attention to health and recognizing the importance of physical beauty allows for proper maintenance and care, resisting aging and preserving youth. Aren't these all very reasonable?
Therefore, recognizing that youth will eventually fade, and feeling an endless longing for the past, often thinking about one's younger self, past experiences, feelings, and many other details, it's not surprising that new emotions arise for people and events that were deeply felt before.
Saying all this makes me feel a little better; I feel I should pull myself together, rationally assess reality, and face myself. I also repeatedly tell myself that I must never masturbate again! ...Even if it's unavoidable, at least I should invest my heart in loving fantasies and have an emotional anchor. That person could be a boy I admired in the past, an idol I had during my childhood, or even a former acquaintance with whom I had one or two private moments after marriage, but with whom I never had an affair...
Of course, this also includes my most longed-for lover, Fang Renkai!
Yang Xiaoqing's Confession (13th grade) "Secret Thoughts" - Yearning
That night, my son and the housekeeper were asleep; I lay alone on the bed, enjoying the classical music playing on the stereo while leisurely flipping through the photo album. But unlike before, I felt very calm, without that anxiety; probably because before going to bed, I only washed my face and applied face cream before entering the bedroom, without "self-examining" my body in the bathroom. The
photo album from my university days was filled with photos of myself and my classmates in the dormitory, travel photos of various famous historical sites and tourist attractions in Taiwan; there were photos of my outfits and eating habits at birthday celebrations and banquets; there were also photos of my close friends teasing and playing around... As I looked at them, I couldn't help but fall into the memories of happy times in the past.
Of course, there were also photos of my first crush on a few male classmates; and especially my crush on a man named Xu Libin. Although my unrequited love remained just that—unrequited love—and never blossomed into anything (see Confession Part 5, and Chapters 1-2 of "Xiaoqing's Lover" by Zhu Wanting), it was always one of my cherished memories from back then. But alas…
not long after graduating from university, I married my husband; then I followed him to the United States to study. In a photo of a large group seeing me off at the airport, I saw myself wearing fashionable clothes from the late 1970s, sunglasses, and covering my face; but my pursed lips held no smile. I remember feeling utterly lost and confused, not understanding why I had embarked on this path; a journey abroad that left me no room for choice and completely beyond my control. Back then, everyone, even my mother, told me: accept the family's arrangements, obey your husband's wishes, help him finish his studies as soon as possible; take care of the family and share his burdens at the beginning of his business; only then will my future be happy and my life carefree… I
quickly flipped through a few pages of photos of my time studying with my husband in the snowy town of Madison, simply because I didn't want to relive that period of life where, although we had no worries about food and clothing, our spirits were filled with unbearable anguish. I read many books and novels to pass the time. I imagined and longed for the feeling of being loved by a man; even if that man wasn't my husband, I seemed willing to accept him. From the women described in novels, I learned that truly loving a man can drive her crazy; but it can also make her radiant and beautiful… Why? Because her heart overflows with the happiness of love, and her soul soars in joy.
My gaze lingered on a single frame in the photograph taken in Maicheng. It was a group photo taken after Xu Libin and a group of college classmates drove from the East Coast to visit me, had dumplings at my house, and took that photo. In the picture, Xu Libin sat casually on the carpet, his smiling face at the camera making him look almost like a big boy. That night, all of them slept on makeshift beds on the living room floor. As for me, lying in bed next to my husband, my mind was filled with thoughts of Xu Libin.
That autumn, in a letter to Xu Libin, I mentioned that I had picked up a maple leaf and sent it to him—a dry, golden-red leaf, perfectly shaped; it made a soft, rustling sound when touched. I asked him if he had heard Xu Libin's reply: he had received it, and he had also heard the voice in my heart. From that moment on, I believed: he... was my true confidant in this life. Because the maple leaf sent through words is still pressed between the pages of a book on the shelf; but what he received was my heart, a heart full of longing and joy!
(Zhu Wanting was unaware of this little anecdote, and it wasn't mentioned in "Xiaoqing's Lover.") Besides Xu
Libin
, the treasured photos also included several other men. Their faces were larger and clearer in the photos; therefore, I carefully put them in another envelope and hid them at the bottom of the drawer, lest my husband see them and become suspicious. Especially since some of the men were single and unmarried; even if I tried to explain, I couldn't!
I jumped out of bed, went to the toilet to pee, and then returned to bed with the envelope.
Of these men, Xiao Xinyi's appearance left the deepest impression on me. He was an unmarried man my husband and I met at a business dinner after we "graduated" and returned to Taiwan. He was really handsome, the kind of man who was very attractive to women. When we first met, we only exchanged a few polite words and nothing more. But after we met again at a banquet and talked more, Xiao Xinyi boldly and secretly called my home, leaving me to answer the phone alone.
He invited me to an art exhibition, saying it was by his friend, the artist Zhuang Rong; he said he had several new works that were well worth seeing. Not knowing how to refuse, I agreed. After the exhibition, we went to a rather elegant coffee shop in the East District and chatted for quite a while in a private room. Before we
parted, Xiao Xinyi suddenly grabbed my hands, his eyes sparkling with passion, and asked if it was possible to go on another date with him. I hurriedly struggled to pull my hands away and shook my head vigorously, saying that was impossible; only then did he release me, apologetically asking for my forgiveness. I pursed my lips and nodded, saying, "Okay, I don't blame you, I'm just curious why you're interested in me." Xiao Xinyi regained his nonchalant smile and said it was because he admired my temperament so much, feeling an irresistible attraction; that's why he lost his composure and acted rashly.
Although I hadn't seen Xiao since our breakup, three days after the art exhibition, I received a letter from him with an attached photo. The letter only mentioned numbers, expressing gratitude for my attendance and sharing the beauty of art with him. The photo was of him and me standing in front of Zhuang Rong's painting; because at the exhibition, when he asked a friend to take a picture of us, I couldn't explain and didn't have the courage to refuse. I've kept this photo and occasionally take it out to look at it; every time I remember: Xiao Xinyi was the first man to praise me and say I was attractive. But looking at the two of us in the photo, I also felt he was very attractive!
The
second man wasn't actually someone I knew; he was a distant relative named Zhou Jichao. He was about my age, but by seniority, he was a generation younger than me and should call me Auntie. We had met at several family gatherings, including my wedding, but never dated. It wasn't until I returned to Taiwan and stayed there for three years that he wrote me several letters expressing his admiration for me, and sent me a photo of himself with his chin resting on his hand, striking a melancholic pose like young Werther.
Reading his letters, I found it amusing on one hand, laughing at his infatuation; on the other hand, thinking that I was a married woman, and that someone was still infatuated with me, I felt secretly quite happy. I wrote a fairly polite reply, using a kind tone and wording to express my admiration for him and wishing him future success in his career and that he would find his ideal partner soon.
But Zhou Jichao didn't give up and continued to write to me, saying that he had liked me since middle school, but had never had the chance to confess. He also told me that many years ago, he saw me walking home from school on the streets of Taipei and followed me all the way to my house without my knowledge; ever since then, he would often deliberately wait for me on my way home, just to catch a glimpse of me.
It's unbelievable that such a "pure love" plot, like something out of a Qiong Yao novel, could actually happen in real life; it made my heart tremble. In particular, Zhou Jichao vividly described how one Saturday afternoon, braving a torrential downpour, he waited for me at the intersection of Ren'ai Road and Jinshan Street as I walked home from Taipei First Girls' High School. When he saw me crossing the street with my umbrella, his heart nearly jumped out of his chest; he wanted to suddenly appear before me and ask to share an umbrella with me, but he lacked the courage. So, despite being soaked to the bone, he followed me. He said: "At that time, the sidewalk on Ren'ai Road was still paved with red bricks, many of which were already broken; the potholes and puddles on the ground had all turned into small, silvery-white puddles, teeming with raindrops."
The rain intensified, and even with an umbrella, the black skirt beneath my green dress was soaked through. Finally, seeing me simply close my umbrella and let the torrential rain soak me completely, leaving my clothes drenched and my body drenched, he continued walking in the rain. He followed behind, watching me turn into an alley, unlock the door, and go home, before leaving with a heart full of elation.
Zhou Jichao said: Although it happened seven years ago, he will never forget that afternoon; because what he saw was not just my soaked body, but also a heart that, like his, felt the urge to discard everything and be utterly drenched in the downpour.
I've read that letter, hidden in the same envelope as the photos, countless times. Each time I read it, my heart trembles; I feel enveloped in his pure affection, filled with poetic warmth. Even though over all these years, I've never met Zhou Jichao alone, let alone dated him! The third
gentleman
was the photographer who took my husband and me's wedding anniversary photos. His name was xxx. That year, when we returned to Taiwan, my mother-in-law instructed my husband to take me to have our wedding anniversary photos taken, to preserve the memory. After taking indoor photos in the studio, we drove in a large group to Yehliu Beach to take outdoor photos with scenic views.
Five days later, I went to the photo studio as agreed to see the sample photos. I was very satisfied with the results and asked the photographer if I could take some home to show my husband before calling him to have them developed. He happily agreed and said he had some more artistic photos and asked if I would like to take a look. Since it was still early, I went into the studio with him to look through his work. After a while, his assistant said goodbye and went out for lunch, leaving just the two of us in the closed studio. When I saw his so-called black and white art photos, which were almost all of nude women, my heart pounded and my breathing became rapid.
But I thought to myself, the photographer must be a decent person; even if he wanted to take nude photos, he wouldn't do anything to me if I refused! Besides, every nude woman in the photos was really well-taken artistically; if I showed any unease, it would seem like I had impure thoughts. However, the strange thing was that in all these photos, the faces of all the nude women were not visible; they were either out of the frame, or their heads were lowered and covered by their hair, or their backs were to the camera, with only their necks visible. But the beauty of each body highlighted in the photos was breathtaking.
The photographer asked me if I was interested in this kind of photography, saying that no matter what a woman's figure or appearance was, he could take beautiful and artistic photos; and in his eyes, many parts of my body were very suitable. I blushed at his comments; but I thought to myself, I have the least confidence in my figure; if photos show my beauty, wouldn't that boost my confidence? But the only thing is, I have never undressed or been naked in front of a man in my entire life; taking nude photos is something I just can't do! I timidly asked: If we're taking artistic photos, can we take the kind where I don't take off my clothes? He stroked his goatee, shook his head and laughed: "You have to take them off, only when you're completely naked can you show the beauty of art!"
That day at the photo studio, of course, I didn't agree to have my nude photos taken by the photographer. Instead, in the photography studio where no other customers had come, with classical jazz playing softly, the two of us started chatting; and we chatted for half an afternoon. Before leaving, he gave me an invitation to his photography exhibition, which was scheduled for two weeks later, and invited me to visit. He also gave me a black-and-white photograph he had taken of himself, which he signed.
On the way home, I reflected on a few things XXX had said to me.
First, in his eyes, a woman dressed is more sexy than a woman naked. Because once a woman is naked, the body only presents its natural beauty, and it is no longer sexy; instead, it needs photographic techniques, using light and shadow, composition, and the posture and spirit of the body to bring out the spirit and charm in order to become a work of art.
Second, (I asked him: How dare you ask a married woman if she is willing to take nude photos? Aren't you afraid that my husband will find out and cause him trouble? I also asked him: Do you suggest taking nude photos to every woman?) His answer was: Based on observing my physical and verbal interactions with my husband, I deduced that my husband has the air of a big boss, but he can't control me; I can do whatever I want. He suggested taking nude photos because he judged me to be able to appreciate art, possessing a certain charisma that, despite marrying a businessman, hadn't been wasted; and a charm not every woman possesses.
Now, looking at this autographed photo of XXX, I recall that time on the bus home, savoring his words, a smile still on my face. I also remember dragging my cousin along to his photography exhibition, discovering many nude photos of women I'd seen before; I secretly thought: if I agreed to take nude photos with him, my body would probably become a work of art too! ... When XXX came to thank me, his eyes were fixed on me; his gaze made me blush, and at the same time, I felt a heat rising within me, and I became strangely sexy.
Yang Xiaoqing's Confession (Part 13) "Secret Thoughts" - Lewdness

That night, I lay alone on the bed, enjoying the classical music playing from the stereo while leisurely flipping through the photo album, looking at the photos of men hidden in envelopes; reminiscing about the sweet times I had once had, and also recalling that absurd affair from back then.
At that time, I had just given birth to my second child, and my son Adam suddenly became the treasure of the whole family, with everyone's attention focused on him alone. But I was suffering from postpartum depression, listless from morning till night. My husband, feeling that his son had a successor, gladly accepted the flattery and congratulations from relatives and friends; especially during the days when Adam was a month old, he would go out drinking every night until he was completely drunk and unconscious before returning home. As a result, he vomited and had diarrhea for five consecutive days, and on the sixth day, he vomited to the point that he not only had stomach bleeding, but also bled from constipation; finally, after being taken to the hospital for examination, it was discovered that there was a possibility of malignant gastric tumor.
My whole family, including my maternal family, was thrown into utter chaos by this devastating news. It was almost a total mobilization; everyone was seeking medical help and advice… but I, at the eye of the storm, was completely neglected! Of course, I, too, was disoriented and lived in a daze; but every day, I cursed my husband in my heart: hoping his stomach cancer was real and would soon become incurable. I began to imagine, and even plan, a future without him, and my free and unrestrained life.
I saw myself at my husband's funeral, wiping away tears and bowing respectfully, while several of the men who came to pay their respects wore expressions of feigned grief. Especially the handsome Xiao Xinyi, and the photographer XXX who also came to pay his respects; when they bowed to me, their eyes held a hint of ambiguous satisfaction. It made me so uneasy, so... I felt utterly despicable, utterly filthy!
Only my distant relative Zhou Jichao, who was the same age as me but a generation younger, showed genuine sympathy, as if eager to comfort my grief over losing my husband and heal my broken heart. I finally understood that the "pure love" in Qiong Yao's novels was real! But I had never tasted pure love in my life, and I was already a widow; a decent, single, and promising young man from a respectable family would never consider me as a marriage partner, let alone a woman with two children! No, no! I cannot, I absolutely cannot let this happen! ...I must tell them to give up on that idea! Don't dream that I, as a widow, will still date or have a relationship with them! I, Yang Xiaoqing, am still a member of the Zhang family, a good daughter of the Yang family; I still have dignity, I still have to be a decent human being! ...Yes, I need love, I need a man's comfort; but, no matter how shameless, I will not sacrifice my integrity!
So
, even though my husband wasn't terminally ill, and the whole family was in chaos, I disregarded my still-weak postpartum period; I pulled out my address book, made up an excuse, and got Zhou Jichao's phone number from his mother, immediately calling him.
Zhou Jichao was utterly astonished, unable to believe I was actually looking for him. But hearing my urgent insistence on seeing him, he readily agreed, eagerly asking for the time and place. Sensing his urgency, I didn't hesitate and arranged to meet him that evening at No. 27 Gangding, "Emerald Green Bay," a seaside villa area not far from Jinshan; I told him I would wait there. But then I remembered something and specifically instructed him: that's a house my family owns, so when we arrived at the villa area's gate, he should tell the security guard he was looking for Mrs. Zhang. It was still afternoon, and no one in the family was paying attention to me. I found an apple-green, large-collared silk short-sleeved top in the closet, paired with a black pleated skirt that reached my knees, to make myself look a little younger. But with a touch of powder and some silver jewelry, I still exuded an elegance befitting my status. Of course, under the top, I wore silver-gray pantyhose, a black lace bra, and wide, thick panties to cover my slightly protruding belly after childbirth. Finally, I put on black mid-heeled shoes and sunglasses, and drove alone along the Beihai Highway towards Jinshan.
On the way, I gazed at the sea bathed in the golden light of the setting sun; it seemed calm and still, but I thought of the surging undercurrents deep beneath the surface, which would eventually reach a climax; coupled with the image of a howling storm with towering waves.
Parking at the entrance of "Emerald Bay," I told the guard I had a friend coming that evening, and that as long as he said he was looking for Mrs. Zhang, he could come in; no need to register his name or license plate number.
In the empty living room, I held a glass of red wine and slowly sipped it. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I could see the sea gradually being shrouded in the gray-blue night mist. When the guard called to say someone was looking for me, I was filled with a mixture of joy and surprise, but replied, "Didn't I already tell you not to register, just let me in?" Less than two minutes later, Zhou Jichao's car was parked at the entrance. Seeing him walk up with a bouquet of flowers, my heart, pounding with anticipation and trepidation, almost jumped out of my chest!
I
led Zhou Jichao into the living room, where we sat on the large sofa; I handed him a glass of red wine, and we drank and talked; but what we talked about, I can no longer remember. I felt waves of emotion washing over me, and his gaze swept over me from head to toe; it was as if I had returned to my high school days, still wearing the green blouse and black skirt of my girls' school uniform, enveloped by his adoring heart; as if he had stripped me naked with his eyes, and was making love to me right there.
Without shame or restraint, in a daze, I took Zhou Jichao's hand and placed it on my body. And he, like an erupting volcano, frantically caressed, grabbed, and kneaded my entire body.
"Ah~!...Ah~Oh!!..." I finally burst out, unable to hold back any longer; I kissed his lips passionately, sucking on his tongue as it entered my mouth. My hands, as if possessed, grabbed at his body, tearing at his clothes, pulling at his pants...
"Ah!...Quick, take me...take me to bed!" I screamed.
"Aunt Yang, Xiaoqing...Auntie, is this really true?" he asked me in disbelief.
"Oh my gosh~, silly baby! ...Of course it's true! ...Come on, come with me to the bedroom, like you were in the rain...following that girl..." I stood up, staggering towards the bedroom.
I pounced on the king-size bed, burying my face in the black satin sheets; my bottom facing up, my hands gripping the corner of the pillow, anxiously waiting; imagining myself in the rain, my back soaked from head to toe on the sidewalk of Ren'ai Road, the image reflected in Zhou Jichao's eyes. In my mind, I cried out: "Completely wet! ...I'm completely...soaked!"
I didn't know what he would think of me, only that the boy of yesteryear, the man of today, still loved me so purely, so passionately. And I, a woman who, though never having cheated or had an affair, had already betrayed my husband and family in my heart, shamelessly yearned for, craved, the spark of love! Will he... will he want me...? After we make love, will he still admire me like before...?
Lying there, I screamed in my heart: "Baby~, baby!... my... baby~!" At the same time, I knelt up, raised my buttocks, and actively shook them; I felt the swaying hem of the pleated skirt brushing against the back of my thighs near the back of my knees, causing a tingling and itchy sensation. This made me even more restless, twisting and turning more fiercely; my lower abdomen ached and swelled more and more; finally, I turned around and called out to Zhou Jichao, who was already on the bed and kneeling behind me:
"Oh!...please, please...fuck meow!..."
"No, Auntie!...please don't say that...I...want to make love with you!" Then he translated into English and told me: "say please, please make love to me!..."
I was so excited that tears fell down my face, and I quickly and obediently shouted as he asked me to, over and over again, alternating between Chinese and English...
until Zhou Jichao lifted my skirt to my waist, carefully took off my pantyhose and briefs, then hooked his body around me and lay on my back; kissing my neck and whispering that he loved me...at the same time, he inserted his hot and hard penis into my frantically waiting cave...
"Oh!...please, please make love!...make love to me!..."
I can't describe what that feeling was like! All I knew was that my body, which hadn't been touched by any man for almost a year, suddenly erupted like molten lava, burning hot, scalding, and ablaze! The stimulation of a man symbolically reclaiming his birth canal and uterus after childbirth stirred up a strange sensuality I'd never experienced before. It made me scream wildly:
"Ah~! Oh my god! Oh my god, I...I...love you to death!"
"Xiaoqing...Auntie, I...I love...you too!" Zhou Jichao's voice trembled, his breath coming in gasps.
The trembling melted my heart! The black satin sheet that had slid across my cheek was now soaked, salty tears touching my lips; it saddened me, yet I loved it so much! ...But I wanted more, more and more love! ...More, more and more love! I screamed desperately,
"More! More!! Please, baby, I want more!!"
Zhou Jichao thrust rapidly, his entire upper body pressing against my back; I couldn't hold on any longer, nor could I bear his love for me! I could no longer feel what a penis was, what a cave was, what a cock was, what a vagina was... everything had lost its meaning! I only knew that the feeling of making love, being loved by Zhou Jichao, and the madness were something no novel, including those by Qiong Yao, could ever describe, not even a fraction of!
But even this captivating feeling of love was fleeting. As Zhou Jichao roared out his climax behind me, ejaculated, and suddenly collapsed onto my still-lying body, he walked further and further away from me. I panicked, forgetting myself, and quickly rolled over to lie next to Zhou Jichao, hastily kissing him, caressing his disheveled hair, and whispering in his ear again and again:
"I love you... I love you!... I love you,... I love you... I love... you..." His eyes were hazy and closed, but a satisfied smile remained on his lips.
I stared blankly at Zhou Jichao, who had fallen into a deep sleep, and realized that my "love" for him could no longer penetrate him. I looked around, as if searching for a lost soul, only to see my loneliness in the empty bedroom. It was
n't until my gaze returned to my disheveled green dress and black skirt; to see the half-pulled silver-gray stockings clinging to my legs, and the lace panties soaked with fluids from our lovemaking; and from an indescribable shame, to the burning sensation within my body, which had not yet reached orgasm; that I understood: although love had released my soul, the needs of the woman within me remained unmet. So…
I want more, I want more! …I want more! …But…I don’t want to masturbate, I want it real!
I struggled to get out of bed, grabbed the black skirt wrapped around my waist, ignoring the disheveled state of my pantyhose and briefs half-pulled to my knees, and hurriedly ran to the toilet, sat on the toilet to urinate; at the same time, I let Zhou Jichao’s semen drip inside me and fall into the toilet. Then I wrung out a wet towel and wiped my vulva clean; I staggered back to the bedroom and lay down next to the sleeping Zhou Jichao. At this moment, I was incredibly aroused, my eyes couldn’t close, and I could only stare blankly at the pale blue ceiling.
In the large bedroom, the white fog of the Beihai Nights seemed to drift in, covering everything thickly; a cool and damp feeling permeated the air. But it could not extinguish the heat in my body, nor extinguish the burning fire of desire.
This forced me to arch my back, spread my legs, brace myself against the sheets, and lift my buttocks. With both hands, I forcefully pulled down the tight stockings and panties that clung to my thighs. As soon as one leg was pulled out, I ignored the fact that they were still wrapped around my other calf and quickly spread my knees apart, exposing my burning vulva. I reached under my crotch, grabbed a small tuft of pubic hair and pulled it upwards, while my other hand probed between my labia, rubbing it vigorously…
“Ah! I want it!… I… want more!” I cried out in my mind, shaking my buttocks violently.
But just as I was about to indulge in masturbation, I immediately stopped and cried out: “Baby!!… I want you, I want you to give it to me… really!… Oh my god!… I can’t take it… I really can’t take it anymore!…” To myself, my voice sounded like a cry.
I desperately longed for the barbecue brush hidden in the towel cabinet in California, but it was thousands of miles away—how could it possibly extinguish this raging fire! ...And in the refrigerator in the villa's kitchen, there were only bottles and cans of beer and cold drinks, no fresh fruits and vegetables like cucumbers, bananas, or carrots.
"What to do...what to do!...I have nothing but my fingers!..."
Frustrated and panicked, I tossed and turned on the bed. Sometimes I covered my mouth with my hand, sometimes I pulled up the sheets, biting the pants that had fallen onto my face, groaning and sobbing. I couldn't help but reach into the green shirt that had already been pulled off my skirt, ripped off my bra, squeezed my breasts hard, and pinched my nipples.
Because after giving birth, the milk that had been engorged in my breasts had sprayed out, soaking the green shirt! At the same time, I felt spasms in my uterus and vagina, wanting to grasp something, but feeling utterly empty. As I shook my head and cried, all I knew was that I kept arching my buttocks and pushing my open vulva upwards, as if welcoming a penis to thrust inside.
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I don't know how much time passed, but finally something touched me! I didn't even know what it was or what it looked like before I felt my legs being pulled even wider; something sharp, wet, hot, and moving was gently touching, crawling, and slowly wriggling at the entrance of my extremely sensitive vaginal opening.
"Ah~! ... Hiss... Hah... Ah~~!" A sharp cry rang in my ears. But it seemed startled and instantly fled.
"No, no! ... Don't go... I want it!" I screamed in panic, and it touched my labia again. Like something incredibly slippery, it wiggled slightly at the entrance, swirling and stirring gently from side to side... My buttocks must have started twisting again, as if chasing it, my abdominal muscles tightening, my vulva twisting and turning, feeling the slippery pleasure. At the same time, a coquettish sound escaped my throat:
"Mmm!...Mmm~~!...Don't go, I want you...come in~!" accompanied by a scream.
The warm, wet tip had just closed back into the opening when I cried out: "Ohhh~! Yes!...
It was a snake, an octopus's claw!...A sea eel that swam from the depths of the North Sea! No, no, it was a man, a man's tongue, like a penis's tongue!...A tongue that swam into the cave like an eel, a sea snake! "Ah! ...Come in, come in! ...No matter what you are, come in!..."
The plea echoed in my mind; at the same time, I saw my naked body floating with my legs wide apart in the blue water; hanging between them was a sea serpent almost as long as my body, reddish-purple, and glowing! ...Its head was buried deep in my vulva; its body swayed with the waves, slowly twisting and turning...
like countless dreams where I fell into the water but could still breathe and cry out, even though my body was floating and my heart was filled with panic, I also experienced strange sensory pleasure; the feeling of being able to urinate or excrete at any time appeared repeatedly. In many nightmares, I find myself drowning in a deep pool from which I cannot climb out, entangled and sticky by swarms of snakes, pythons, countless leeches, and cockroaches; my whole body is numb, itchy, and aching, almost suffocating, and at that moment, I become sexually aroused...
as if my entire body, every cave and every pore, craves them to burrow in, stir, and thrust; welcoming them to bite and suck my flesh and blood. And what overflows and gushes from my body flows and rolls onto my skin; the congealed particles and lumps are dissolved into a paste by the continuing seepage of synovial fluid, slowly flowing down in streaks like spots.
At the same time, I feel these serpentine creatures crawling into my internal organs, dwelling deep within, continuing to writhe and suck my essence; their excrement accumulates inside me; some are hard and dry, some are thick and sticky, some are thin and watery, all digested and absorbed like life-sustaining nutrients, becoming part of my body!
But I don't want to dream, especially not such bizarre and absurd erotic dreams! I spent so much effort, risking being discovered by my family and guards, to gain a brief moment of love; to have a man I've longed for for years comfort my empty heart, my parched body receiving the long-awaited sweet rain… But because of his passionate premature ejaculation, I'm stuck in a state of neither going up nor going down; I can only desperately beg God to have eyes, to let me be filled and occupied again immediately, to be freed from this most unbearable and unbearable bondage!
"Oh God! ... Please, don't let this become a dream! Nightmares, lewd dreams, I don't want any of them, I just want a real man, a real... man! "
xxx ... Just as I was starting to feel the pressure, he stopped digging and began thrusting rapidly, making my whole body tremble and convulse as if electrified. I cried out repeatedly, panting and screaming, "Yes! ...aaahh...aaahh~! Oh~~!!" Another slippery finger slipped into my anus, just a small section, not very deep, and immediately began to thrust in and out rapidly. The strange pleasure made my screams even louder and my panting even more violent; I loved it, loved it so much, my anus automatically contracted and clenched; my legs were spread wide open, even my toes pointed skyward, and at the same time I felt the man's hands grasping my feet, kneading them forcefully... I was almost bursting with excitement. I couldn't wait to tear open my green shirt, grabbing one breast in each hand and squeezing them hard. I knew: if my nipples were stimulated even slightly more, I would reach the climax that my body desperately needed, but my mind was so unwilling to have. Thank goodness, the man finally stopped me; he crossed my wrists, clamped them, and pulled them above my head. Then his large hands returned to my breasts, caressing and kneading them; but no matter how erect my nipples were, he didn't touch them at all; at most, he would use two fingers to gently pinch and tug them. He would play with the left nipple, then the right, then back again. My uterus was already aching terribly, my vagina and anus were slippery from the thrusting, and my flesh was soft; while my legs were being pinched, my breasts being kneaded, my entire groin being licked until it was numb, and my lower abdomen being pressed repeatedly, making my bladder feel bloated... It felt so good... It felt absolutely wonderful!! "Oh, God! ... God! ... Jesus! ... God, ifeelso~ good!!" "Splash, splash! ... Chirp, chirp! ... Splash! ... Glug, glug!" The constant splashing sounds, coupled with the man's panting, drove me wild with excitement, making me scream wildly: "Come on, baby! ... Love me one more time! ... This time, let me... become a god completely!..." xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx "Hmm! ... I didn't expect... Mrs. Zhang to be so wanton!..." "That's right! ... Her husband has a terminal illness and hasn't died yet, and she's already... impatient!" "... Do you... like this kind of woman...?" "She's quite cute! ... Bro, do you want to... finish first, and then I'll... help you clean up?" "No, brother, please go first! ...I want to admire her...her ethereal beauty before I mount my horse..." "Then, I won't stand on ceremony!" I heard the man's words through my hazy state. Half-opening my eyes, I saw the milky white night fog gathering thicker and thicker, so thick that I could hardly see anything; the milky fog gradually condensed into smoke-like, cloud-like floating matter, enveloping and covering everything. I waited, dumbfounded...waiting for him to enter.

After saying "You're welcome," the man didn't utter another word. He pushed my knees up to his chest with both hands. Holding my breath and waiting, I opened my eyes and could only see the outline of his upper body, but not his face. The loss of his fingers thrusting in and out of my vagina and anus forced me to abandon all reason: as long as it was a man, as long as his hot, burning penis was inside me, I would not care about anything, I would do anything!
"...Ahhh!...Yes!...Oh yes!!" I cried out, immediately reaching out to hug him, only to find that my arms had been straightened, my crossed wrists clamped to the pillow above my head, leaving me no room to move. I opened my eyes again, looking up at the figure of another man shrouded in thick fog, whose face I also couldn't see; I heard him say: "It seems that Mrs. Zhang...really needs it!"
"Yes!...I...need it to death!" I quickly responded loudly, feeling his penis penetrate me at the same time.
"I... I need to die!... I love it to death!" The penis thrust deeper, pumping in and out.
The stimulation filling my entire body, and the surging waves in my heart, resonated in my ecstatic exclamations and praises; I no longer cared about anything else, about the reasons; I didn't care about the distinction between love and the absence of love, nor did I care who he was or who he wasn't, as long as he could fill and possess me, I would do whatever he wanted, or ask me to do whatever he wanted!
"Ah... Oh~ Oh!... Ah~!... Love it!... I love it to death!"
Closing my eyes, which were blurred by the thick fog, I felt the rhythm of the man's body more intensely, heard the rising and falling panting and growling more clearly; and I felt more acutely the stimulation on every inch of my skin, bones, and limbs, and the pleasure that spread throughout my body.
"Even Mrs. Zhang's moans are so beautiful!" "...
Indeed. She's so tight!...Brother, we're really lucky!"
"Ohhhh!...So beautiful, so...comfortable!...Oh~~!...God!!..."
"She even mixes Chinese and English, it's so charming!"
"Yes, indeed...it has a unique charm, captivating!"
The excitement, the surging shock, grew stronger and stronger, becoming increasingly unbearable; I quickly opened my eyes and shouted at the man's figure floating above my head:
"Quick...pinch my...granny!...pinch my...granny!...Oh my god!...I can't...take it anymore...I'm about to...come!"
"Brother!...Look...she's so anxious....Tear off her clothes, rip her naked and pinch her!"
"No! ...It's sexier with your clothes on, look..."
He released his grip on my wrists, ripped the open green shirt open even wider, exposing my shoulders, then pulled it up to my arms, leaving me unable to stretch. Because the green shirt was taut against my back, my chest and abdomen, clad in a loose bra, thrust upwards; I felt my nipples protrude even more, and needed to be pinched and squeezed even more!
"Ah! Pinch...me, pinch me! ...Please...please! Pinch my...tits!"
As I cried out, I felt the rapidly thrusting penis inside my vagina grow even larger, stretching me almost to the point of madness; I closed my eyes tightly, shook my head violently, waiting for my nipples to be pinched and squeezed. But the man didn't pinch me; instead, a nimble tongue licked one nipple, then moved to the other, licking and sucking. And it didn't suck for long before running away; making me even more frantic, twisting my upper body left and right, trying to chase his mouth with my breasts!
I felt his rough beard brushing against the skin of my chest; my nipples were also brushed until they were harder and more erect, almost ready to squirt milk. While licking and sucking, he also bit the elastic band of my bra still around my waist, pulling and releasing it, slapping it against my skin. I felt incredibly disheveled and embarrassed, yet even more incredibly sexy; my vagina automatically contracted and sucked at his thrusting penis.
"Wow! ...I'm impressed, impressed, bro, your technique with women is fucking amazing!"
"Little brother, you're not bad either! ...A big cock...making Mrs. Zhang's juices flow..."
Little brother is still Brother Xiao...Xiao Xinyi?! ...Oh my god! ...The photographer with the goatee, and Brother Xiao! How could it be you...them?! ...Opening my eyes in shock, I saw the silhouettes of two men talking above me: it really was the goatee, and Xiao Xinyi, who must still be handsome!
"I...I called...Zhou Jichao...to...have sex with him...Where is he now?!" Suddenly remembering my beloved, I heard the photographer, head bowed, ask in my ear:
"Mrs. Zhang!...You called us because you needed men to help you...drain your juices, to get rid of that cock that hasn't tasted it in so long, right?...And one man wasn't enough, you called three...to take turns!..." "No!
...No, I didn't!...I'm not that bad, that shameless!...Jichao! Where are you?!..." My inner screams and cries were nothing but sobs.
"But innocent pretty boys are no good, they collapse in no time!...We have to rely on us old pros to keep you going, right, Mrs. Zhang..." I was so ashamed I almost died, I closed my eyes and shook my head.
"Brother, don't pressure her! Mrs. Zhang just gave birth, and her husband has a terminal illness. Her body, deprived for so long, is naturally yearning; her distress is also pitiful. Let's cherish her more and comfort her... comfort her!" As Xiao Xinyi spoke, his penis stopped thrusting.
Tears of emotion rolled down her cheeks, but her vagina, deprived of the penis's thrusting, contracted anxiously; she couldn't help but thrust her chest forward, yearning for hands to grasp and squeeze; her lower abdomen heaved like spasms, all for wanting, wanting, wanting even more... wanting a big cock... to poke me!
"Oh~ Oh!... Ah... Oh~~ Ugh!... Please..." Her lips curled up, and a soft moan rose and fell in her throat.
"Brother Xiao truly has a compassionate heart, speaking human language; even Mrs. Zhang's moans sound much more pleasant!"
The photographer began to pinch my breasts lightly and heavily; Xiao Xinyi resumed his thrusting. Panting, my tears dried, and I looked at him with a forced, indescribable smile; involuntarily, the corners of my mouth curled up, my lips pursed, and with each gasp I whispered:
"Baby! ... deeper, deeper... fuck me! ... please!"
"That's good! Mrs. Zhang, I love hearing this kind of moaning the most!"
Xiao Xinyi indeed thrust harder, faster and harder; the photographer kneaded my breasts, faster and harder. I finally went crazy, only knowing how to please the two men enjoying me, shouting and yelling wildly:
"Fuck me! ...Me! ...Such a big cock ...Fuck me! ...Oh~, yes!..."
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Like a dream I'd had countless times, I was penetrated by more than one man at the same time. When Xiao Xinyi was thrusting into my vagina until I was about to climax, the photographer also took out his penis and put it in front of my face; without saying a word, I immediately struggled my arms, ignoring the pain of my skin being squeezed by the green shirt, grabbed the big penis, stretched my neck, opened my mouth and took it in; sucking and swallowing desperately...until my body was swept up by the climax, shaking and trembling uncontrollably.
Xiao Xinyi pulled out his penis, switched positions with the photographer, and the two of them thrust into my upper and lower orifices again; more fiercely and wantonly than before. Four claw-like hands rubbed and pinched my entire body, even inserting into my anus to dig and thrust rapidly; making me feel like I was being ravaged to the point of near death. At the same time, I felt a kind of utter despair, a sense of abandoning everything, a complete liberation, and a pleasure that was no longer just pleasure!
The photographer pulled out his penis and told Xiao Xinyi to hold me on top of him, then insert it into my vagina again from below. He made me sit on his penis wantonly, using my elbows to hold up my black skirt and my fingers to pull at my nipples. I did as he said, tilting my head back towards him, opening my mouth wide, and begging him to suck my penis! He then grabbed my head and shoved his entire penis down my throat, making me suck hard while simultaneously riding up and down on another penis, tears of joy streaming down my face.
Unfortunately, he didn't let me suck for long before grabbing my hair, pulling out his penis, turning me around, and pushing me down onto Xiao Xinyi. He pressed down on my waist with one hand, making me stick my butt out! Then, I felt my anus being stretched open, and the photographer's penis, covered in my saliva, was inserted! Alternating with the other penis still thrusting in and out of my vagina, sometimes both were moving in and out simultaneously.
Without the penis filling my mouth, I could no longer groan or sob; I could only scream and howl. I felt my body no longer belonged to me, and the only thing left was my mouth—an empty, unbearably longing mouth waiting for my lover's kiss; a mouth destined to endure the penetration of a man's penis!
"Kiss me! ... Please... kiss me, Ji Chao! ... Why can't I find you there!"
Dear God must have heard my cries and pleaded, bringing Zhou Ji Chao back to me, kneeling before me. He lifted my chin, making me struggle to tilt my head back, pleadingly looking at his also blurry figure, as he held me between two men. I opened my mouth and hissed,
"Baby! ... Kiss me, kiss me! ... Kiss... me!!"
When Zhou Ji Chao lowered his head and was about to kiss me, my vision was already blurred; the moment I felt his lips touch me, two penises were thrusting wildly into my two holes. Tears streamed down my face like a spring; in despair, I cried out,
"Spit it out, spray it out for me! ... All of you... pour it out, drown me!"
The three men seemed to hear my inner screams; the two above and below thrust more and more violently, while Zhou Jichao in front of me struggled to move his newly erect penis to my lips. I closed my eyes tightly and took it into my mouth; in that instant, I lost myself in sucking...
The night fog that filled the room had become thicker and thicker, suffocating smoke; like a raging storm, a ferocious beast roaring and howling, it filled and shook the entire bedroom, churning and churning. I recalled the North Sea bathed in the setting sun, the dark depths of the seabed where raging tides surged and churned, sand and stones flying, forming a colossal tsunami that shot towards the sky, then collapsed with a dark yet lightning-streaked sky, destroying everything…
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Closing the photo album, I placed the pictures of the three men I had once known back into the envelope, picked up a yellowed page of the letter, and vaguely felt the madness of that night at "Emerald Bay," the utter madness. Recalling the torrential rain on the Ren'ai Road sidewalk described in the letter, I asked myself: comparing the two, which was a hundred times, a thousand times, ten thousand times more torrential and intense!
Although my heart was filled with melancholy, I couldn't help but smile wryly.

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Yang Xiaoqing's Confession 13 "Secret Thoughts" - Fear (Parts 1-3)

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