A romantic encounter, a beautiful woman delivered to your door.

In July of this year, my wife and sister-in-law went to Xinjiang for a trip. They had been gone for three days and just spoke to me on the phone. They said they had just returned from Kanas Lake and wanted to stay for a few more days. I decided to let them have a good time. I was sitting on the sofa , drinking beer and watching TV. I wanted to go out, but it was too hot, and
I
hadn't gotten back until the early hours of the morning after celebrating a successful business deal yesterday, so I was too lazy to move. I checked the time—it was past ten—took a quick shower, put on shorts, and waited for my hair to dry so I could go to bed early. Just as I was about to finish my cigarette and go to sleep, the doorbell rang. I wondered who could be coming so late, why they hadn't called? Maybe some drunk guy was bothering me. Reluctantly, I got up and opened the door without asking who it was. But what I saw stunned both me and the person
outside
. A woman in a sheer nightgown stood at the door. Seeing her flushed face, I remembered helping her pick up fruit that had spilled from the plastic bags on the stairs once; she was my neighbor across the hall.
Because
it's an apartment building, neighbors rarely interact. My contact with her was limited to that one time I helped her. We arrived at the same time and went our separate ways. Our conversation consisted of her politely thanking me, and me replying that I was welcome. After that, when we met on the stairs, we would just nod and smile as a greeting.

Seeing her attire now really surprised me, and seeing each other dressed so lightly made us both feel a little awkward. She said very urgently, "Excuse me, could I use your phone?" while anxiously looking up at the stairs, afraid someone might come up

. My mind raced, answering her question while wondering what might have happened to her—maybe she'd locked herself in. After I invited her in, she quickly came in, the strong scent of shampoo and shower gel telling me she'd just showered. I closed the door and told her where the phone was. She'd pass the floor lamp I
'd
left on as she walked towards it. I'd turned off the main light in the living room because I was getting ready for bed. The light illuminated her long, slender legs under her sheer skirt, a sight that was quite striking. A surge of heat rose in my stomach, and without thinking, I turned the main light back on
. The
room suddenly brightened, startling her. She pleaded, "Could you turn off the light?" I sheepishly explained, "I was afraid you couldn't see clearly," and turned off the light. But in that short time, I had already seen her naked body beneath her sheer skirt.
Now
I was certain she had showered before leaving, and not to see someone off, because no woman would dress like that to see someone off. Dressed like that, she must dress like this at home. She must have gone out to take out the trash, since the garbage chute is half a floor down.
She was rapidly pressing buttons. I prayed no one would answer, so I wouldn't be alone tonight. This thought made my blood boil, and my shorts couldn't hide my erection
. My eyes were fixed on the flashing screen, all my senses focused on her. After a few minutes
of
anxious muttering to herself, she hung up the phone in disappointment. I could only ask, "What's wrong? Did you lock yourself in?" She moved a little into the shadows and said, "I went out to throw out the trash, and the door closed. I've done that before without closing the door."

I've had similar experiences, so I said confidently, "Did you turn on the range hood?" She was surprised and realized why she was locked out. "Ah, that's it! What should I do? Who did you call?" I asked with concern. "My parents have another key, but no one answers the door. Where did you go so late?" She was anxious and at a loss, her expression becoming very frustrated. "Don't worry, call again later. Sit down for a while,
" I comforted her. She hesitated for a moment and said, "Could I borrow a coat? "
I pretended to be clueless and asked, "Are you cold?" I went to the door, grabbed my coat, and handed it to her. She seemed more comfortable after putting it on, and sat down on the sofa. Suddenly, she said, "Could I borrow a set of clothes? I'm going to get my keys." I chuckled inwardly. Her urgency seemed to have impaired her judgment, and she blurted out, "Your parents aren't here, how can you get them?" She sighed dejectedly.

I started calculating in my mind, deciding to try and tell her I'd help her climb over from the balcony. I knew it was impossible, but I wanted to see her reaction. If she only thought of herself and not my safety, I'd give up, because it would cause trouble. If she worried and tried to stop me, it showed her kindness, and even if it worked, there wouldn't be any problems
. Sure enough ,
I voiced my thoughts. We went to the balcony, and she immediately gave up, saying, "How can we get over here? No, it's too dangerous." I said, "I'll try," and climbed onto the balcony windowsill. She nervously grabbed me, saying, "No, it's too dangerous! Come down!" I went back onto the balcony and said, "What should we do then? If it's too dangerous, you can sleep here. I'll make do in the living room."
She
looked at me warily, but seeing sincerity in my eyes, she said helplessly, "I'll make another call." She went to make the call, and I followed her back to the living room. She sat back down on the sofa, disappointed again. I poured her a glass of water
. The
two started chatting. She told me her husband was away on a business trip. Because he's a sales manager, he travels frequently, and they have no choice but to travel to make ends meet. She then mentioned me, and I told her my wife was on vacation. As we became more familiar, I jokingly said, "Looks like we're destined to be together. My wife is on vacation, and your husband is away on a business trip. Heaven has arranged for us two lonely people to be alone in one room.

" She shyly agreed, saying, "Don't overthink it. It was an accident. But then again, I don't know why, I usually go to bed early, but I couldn't sleep tonight, so I tidied up the room. I didn't expect this to happen. I'm really sorry to bother you so late." "It's nothing," she replied, "it's just fate. When I opened the door, I thought it was one of my best friends who was drunk. I didn't expect it to be a beautiful woman, and..." I stopped, considering her reaction. If she was angry, I had no chance; if she wasn't angry, my chances were much better
.
Sure enough, she asked, "And what?" A slightly lewd smile appeared on my face. Not wanting to miss this golden opportunity, I said, "Don't get angry." She nodded, and I continued, "And you're dressed so sexily, it makes me lose control." Hearing this, she naturally looked down at herself, pulled down the front of the dress draped over her shoulders, and suddenly became embarrassed, saying, "Don't say that, it's so embarrassing." Her face turned red, but she looked at me with her eyes.

"Don't pull it down, why cover up such a beautiful nightgown, especially your body underneath? Let me see some more, okay?" I began to arouse her desire, and she suddenly said nervously, "What did you see?" "No!" I didn't say anything, just looked at her with eyes full of desire. She understood my meaning from my eyes, and stood up demurely, saying, "I'm leaving." I stood up and stopped her, saying, "How can you go out dressed like this? If I call again, they might be back." She turned around nervously, and I grabbed her arms. She tried to pull away.
I
didn't hold her tightly, and she slumped into the sofa. I moved closer, leaning down to look at her, my hands on the armrests, preventing her from escaping. She looked up at me, her eyes showing tension, a fleeting hint of coy resistance, and said, "What are you doing? Don't do this.
"
I didn't speak, just looked at her with eyes full of love and desire, slowly moving closer to her. She watched me approach, her eyes fixed on me, her mind racing with thoughts of rejection—give up—rejection—give up. Her eyes told me without any pretense
that her slender fingers appeared even whiter under her clothes.
When my head was close enough to feel my breath, she turned her head away, simultaneously releasing her grip on her clothes and pushing my shoulders away, saying, "Please don't do this. I'm not a promiscuous woman. Please don't." Her hands were weak and powerless as she pushed me away. Women can be so interesting sometimes; even after giving up resistance, they still make such confessions, wanting a man to acknowledge that she's not acting out of lust. They take their clothed reserve to the extreme, but become completely uninhibited once naked. I didn't continue, because she let go of the clothes she was holding onto, revealing her breasts
.
I looked down at the two protrusions under her nightgown and her chest and abdomen rising and falling with tense, rapid breathing. She sensed my stop, turned to look at me, and when she saw where my gaze was, she let out a soft moan, returned her hands to her chest, and I took the opportunity to kiss her, while at the same time embracing her. After being kissed on the lips
,
she immediately turned her head, simultaneously bending her arms and pressing them against my shoulders again, urgently saying, "No, don't do this, I'm going to scream!" I whispered in her ear, "Go ahead and scream. You came to my house dressed like this, what will people think? Even if you accuse me of rape, I'll accept it, because I like you." Then, without giving her another chance, I pulled out one hand and grabbed her full breast. She twisted, but not violently, her mouth still avoiding my kiss. I pressed my middle finger against the protrusion in the center of her breast, pushing it into her breast and kneading it slowly, gradually increasing the speed. As I rapidly shook my hand,
she let
out a sound of utter surrender from her throat: "No!" Her hands, which had been pushing against me, now gripped my shoulders tightly. Breathless from being huddled on the sofa, she tilted her head back, opening her throat, letting me press my lips against hers.

I released her breasts, slipping my hand under her skirt to caress her smooth buttocks. My other hand reached under the strap of her skirt and grasped her full, soft breasts. My other hand moved forward, tracing the smooth inner thigh upwards. She tensed, squeezing her thighs together, and pleaded, "No, please." I ignored her weak, half-hearted pleas. My fingers persistently landed on her pubic mound, spreading her soft, tender flesh at the base of her thighs with my middle finger, rubbing her burning labia against the outside of her thin panties. She couldn't help but let out an unbearable moan, weakly grabbing my wrist to stop my movements. I patiently peered through
the
cicada-wing-like covering, searching for the clitoris at the top of the cleft that could subdue her. She knew my purpose, and tried to pull my hand away with increasing force. Her mind was in constant turmoil. Lust was surging within her, demanding that she give up resistance and enjoy the different kind of stimulation this affair brought her. Reason and morality, however, demanded that she resist and not commit a crime. The surging tide of passion within her body told her to give up resisting . Dressed like this, coming
to
a house with only one man so late at night—even if she accused him of rape, how many people would believe her? She should give up resisting and experience a passion she had never known before. Besides, her sex life with her husband had become mundane after the initial passion of their marriage. Because of his work, sex with him felt like a routine, and she had to suppress her desires. Giving up would bring her satisfaction, and this one time wouldn't affect her family. As lust gradually took over her body, her resistance weakened,
and I could sense the change
in her mind. I quickened my teasing movements, trying to pull her completely out of her rationality and into the sea of desire. I increased the pressure on her already hardened nipples, the pain stimulating her subconscious desire to be conquered. She weakly said, "Gently, it hurts." I relaxed and used gentle caresses, my fingers already parting her modesty, easily finding her swollen clitoris in the cleft, using the constantly flowing, slippery fluid. The rapid teasing made her weak all over. I knew it was time, and then I suddenly picked her up. The sudden weightlessness made her tense, and she wrapped her arms around my neck. I held her tightly in the bedroom. I placed her on the bed,
and
before she could react, I removed her skirt and panties. Then I stopped and looked at her with loving eyes, my hand on her full, soft breasts, making no move. Surprised and unaware of what was happening, she opened her eyes, which had been tightly closed in shyness. When she saw my gaze, she hurriedly turned her head away and closed her eyes again in panic and shame. I whispered in her ear, full of affection and seduction, "Open your eyes and look at me." She shook her head. I grasped the tip of her breast with my fingers, slowly increasing the pressure. She felt my persistence and said, "No, please open your eyes and look at me." As I slowly approached her tense, panting lips, she suddenly wrapped her arms around my neck, brought her mouth to my lips, and kissed me tightly. Her tongue licked her lips, searching for my tongue. I met her tongue, and we intertwined.
7 r/ ]4 w# e7 f0 [4 @1 ?* i* d* ]2 n. o1 uz
I knew she had completely given up resisting, so I began to caress her beautiful skin intensely. I reached between her legs, and she wisely parted them. I inserted my fingers into her wet and slippery vulva, pressed my thumb against her clitoris, and while digging into her hot vulva, I vigorously rubbed her clitoris. She couldn't help but let out joyful moans in her throat. I slowly retreated from her body to between her legs. She knew I was looking at her already aroused and parted labia, and shamefully covered her genitals with her hands. I pulled her hands away, and she couldn't help
but
say, "Don't look." I used my hands to gently separate her pubic hair, which was wet and sticky with her bodily fluids, and gently parted her two small labia. She looked up at me in confusion and said, "What are you doing?" I smiled mischievously and kissed her. She gasped in surprise. I knew she had never had this experience before, and her words after the gasp confirmed my judgment. She said, "No, it's dirty." I looked up and said, "How could it be? This is a sign that I like you." After saying that, I took her clitoris into my mouth and licked it with my hot tongue. She trembled all over from the stimulation, and kept making various uncontrollable moans
. Soon
she became stiff all over, her hands gripping my head, her hips responding to my licking, and she let out a suppressed, joyful moan of a woman's instinctive restraint. I knew she had orgasmed. To make her remember it, I gently bit her clitoris with my teeth to prolong her orgasm. Ah, I'm going to die, ah! After she calmed down a bit after her orgasm, I climbed on top of her, holding her head with both hands and asked: Was it good? She no longer avoided my gaze, looking at me with an incredulous yet infatuated look, nodded, then turned her head away in shame, her hands embracing me and pressing her smooth breasts flat between our
chests
. I reached out and guided my already erect penis, sliding it between her labia, and softly asked, "May I enter? Will you give yourself to me?" She turned her head, looking at me with eyes full of spring tide and love, nodding and gently lifting her hips, signaling her welcome. When I entered her,
she no longer held back, embracing me with both hands, moaning incessantly, showering my face with kisses , her
legs wrapped around mine, intelligently cooperating with my thrusts. Twenty minutes later, after a near-exhausting orgasm, she clung to me, refusing to let me off, tears streaming down her face. Reason returned to her senses, and I gently wiped away her tears, asking softly, "Was it good?" She softly murmured, "Mmm." We remained like that for a long time before she pushed me away, got up, and went to the bathroom. Watching her beautiful back, the swaying of her hips as she walked, my groin throbbed again. I didn't follow her. I lit a cigarette, watching the bathroom doorway, waiting for her to emerge from the bath. She didn't come out for a long time. A little worried, I got up and went into the bathroom. I saw her sitting on the edge of the tub, her hands clutching her full breasts as I entered, one hand covering her crotch. She looked at me with tear-reddened eyes, a look of grievance and sorrow on her face. I felt a pang of sympathy and went over to hug her, saying, "Don't do this, be careful not to catch a cold." I took a towel, wrapped it around her shoulders, and helped her out of the tub. After we got into bed, she didn't say anything. When I hugged her, she obediently snuggled into my arms. After a long while, she gently pushed me away and said, " How can I face my husband in the future?" I hugged her tighter and said, "You'll still be a good wife when you go back tomorrow. This is a blessing from our past lives. You don't need to blame yourself. Any man would be moved by a woman as outstanding as you." Women are always happy to accept praise. The next day, she left wearing my shirt and jeans. I looked forward to our meeting when she returned the clothes.

URL 1:http://localhost:909/htmlBlog/144644.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=144644&aspx=1

Previous Page : A promising son

Next Page : My god-sister's morning is so wet

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

A romantic encounter, a beautiful woman delivered to your door.

comment Open a new window to view comments