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[Baoqiang's Adulterous Wife] (1-6) 

First published by:
Author: Carrying a Knife, Not a Girl
Published on: August 17, 2016
Word Count: 5200
Baoqiang's Adulterous Wife
1
Baoqiang was somewhat depressed. He answered his wife Yinrong's call, but was abruptly hung up after only a few words.
The first thing she said was, "Why are you calling me at this hour...?" He felt embarrassed. He
sensed the surprise on the faces of the people around him who were also on the show. This was a stark contrast to the others
. There was no warm greeting, no family chatter, no affectionate flirting. He had to change the subject
to his daughter. "Daddy, when are you coming back... If you don't come back soon, you don't need to come back at all..."
His daughter's words made him twitch, his face went dry. Wasn't this what Yinrong often said to him when she was scolding him?
The production team gave each participant three minutes to call home. Everyone else complained that three minutes wasn't enough, but he
was abruptly hung up after less than a minute. He felt a little uneasy. Perhaps his wife was too tired;
taking care of two children alone was quite exhausting.
But he couldn't sleep. Gazing at the bright moonlight outside the window, his thoughts drifted far, far away. He imagined
Yin Rong holding their two children as they slept, their
little faces as they drifted off to sleep after his wife sang a lullaby. He knew the lights were still on, because he was always the one who turned them off at home.
He'd only been on the "Real Men" show for a few days, and he already missed home terribly, just like with any other performance he'd done
. He wished it would all end that day. However, he knew he had to persevere to support his family, even though he
didn't want to leave home for a single moment, didn't want to leave Yin Rong for a single moment. He wanted to earn lots and lots of money so his wife and family could live
a life they could never have imagined in their entire lives.
His appearance fee was 5 million.
2.
Yin Rong looked at the broken nail on her right middle finger, still angry. Bao Qiang's daughter had just
dirtied one of her favorite cartoons—a cartoon of a bespectacled man tenderly
holding a heart. Yin Rong had tried to grab her daughter, but she'd run off in a flash. Yin Rong chased after her, caught her,
and slapped her twice across the face. The second slap scraped against the wall,
splitting the nail; it still hurt a little.
Her daughter stood in the corner, wailing, but Yin Rong ignored her.
The maid stood silently to the side, too afraid to comfort the poor little
girl without Yin Rong's permission.
Yinrong disliked the daughter he had with Baoqiang. She didn't know why, but seeing her filled her with resentment
. This resentment only gradually subsided when she saw her son, who looked more and more like Song Joong-ki. She wasn't certain
, but she believed that even without confirmation, her son's other half of his genes definitely wouldn't be Baoqiang's. She
was satisfied with her decision; not marrying him, but having a child with him, was the best
decision she'd ever made.
If it weren't for him, with Baoqiang's stagnant, uncultured genes, could they have produced such an excellent
offspring? She didn't want her superior genes to be submerged in a pile of uncivilized, inferior genes, never to have
a chance to shine. Excellence should combine with excellence to create something even better.
She
sacrificed a lot to become even better.
She missed him again, that man named Song Quan, the man drawn in the comics, or more precisely, Bao Qiang
's manager, the man who, in her eyes, was more handsome than Song Joong-ki, her sixth boyfriend in college. If Bao
Qiang hadn't interfered, perhaps she would be sleeping soundly in his arms right now.
As graduation approached, facing a difficult choice, Yin Rong had to decide between the short, rich, and unattractive Bao Qiang and the tall, handsome, but poor Song
Quan. Almost instantly, she chose Bao Qiang. She knew that no matter how hard she and Song Quan tried
, they would never achieve the life they wanted. For two graduates from second-rate universities, reaching that social class was too far off
. A dazzling, luxurious life was just a pipe dream; all that awaited them was a dark, sunless basement in a big city,
working nine-to-five for a meager two or three thousand a month, meticulously calculating every penny spent, experiencing nothing but exhaustion
and heaviness every day, and the inevitable decline in libido under this pressure.
She couldn't allow that to happen. She
couldn't! She had to hold onto Baoqiang, this blue-chip stock, whether she wanted to or not.
The night she made the decision, she had to hug Song Quan tightly, comforting him: "You'll have a Lamborghini,
you'll have a Maserati, you'll have Edison Chen's brand store, you'll have the life you want, you'll have everything.
I just took a shortcut, believe me, you'll be with me along this shortcut."
Song Quan smiled faintly, "Your decision is correct."
In that instant, she felt a wicked pleasure rise from the soles of her feet, gradually spreading through her heart. To achieve
what ordinary people couldn't, her choice against her conscience was enough to compensate for the slight discomfort her morality gave her. "I've made a sacrifice
, I deserve what I want,"
she thought. She even felt an irrepressible urge—for the foreseeable beautiful life, for
the life she could fully enjoy, for everything she was about to create with her own hands.
Especially since the man she liked agreed with her idea, they were always on the same wavelength—cold, decisive
, and resolute. An image flashed in her mind: two wolves with eerie green eyes huddled
together for warmth in a dark, boundless forest. Wolves were Song Quan's idolized animal.
She knew that life was short, and opportunities were few and far between. The shortcut was right in front of her; no
one would be foolish enough not to take it. She was furious at Bao Qiang's call again.
Just
as she and Song Quan were naked and passionately engaged in their encounter in Bao Qiang's BMW
, their bodies intertwined, Song Qiang's large penis deeply inserted into her
vagina, she wore dark brown stockings, her legs hoisted high. Her phone
rang incessantly on the seat beside her. She saw Bao Qiang's caller ID and reached for it, but Song
Quan was pressing down on her too tightly; she couldn't reach it after several attempts.
Song Quan thrust in and out violently several more times, making her eyes roll back. She tried to push Song Quan away, but he
held her down tightly, his thick penis penetrating even deeper, causing her two dark brown stockinged legs to tremble. With
another thrust, her toes pointed straight up, and she rolled her eyes again, her legs spread wide behind Song Quan, shaking violently
. She couldn't bear this intense stimulation.
"Whatever he does, not answering won't kill anyone, he ruined my plans... ruined my plans... I'll fucking kill him
... I'll fucking... fucking kill him... fucking... fucking fucking..."
Song Quan panted heavily as he thrust in and out rapidly, his two
large testicles slapping against Yin Rong's pink buttocks with a loud slapping sound. Yin Rong's vagina clenched and overflowed with fluid.
She felt her already incredibly wet vagina contract violently again, and a flood of vaginal fluid gushed out.
She screamed, her buttocks jerking, but she still managed to
grab the still-ringing cell phone from the side when Song Quan arched his body, his glans withdrawing from her vagina, his dripping penis poised to give her a long thrust
.
She endured Song Quan's thrust with a forced smile, quickly calming herself before answering the phone: "Hello, Bao
Qiang? What's up? Why are you calling me again?"
"Wife, I can't sleep, I miss you. Are you asleep? Did I wake you?"
Bao Qiang's voice came through the phone.
"You should know I'm asleep now... no, I'm not asleep yet... I was about to sleep...
"
Yin Rong replied impatiently. Song Quan thrust violently several more times, churning his penis inside her vagina.
The intense pleasure made Yin Rong groan softly. She punched Song Quan's body a few
times to let him know she was on the phone.
"Wife, what's wrong? You sound like you're in pain. Are you feeling unwell?"
Bao Qiang heard Yin Rong's groan.
"Oh... I'm doing something, no... I'm fine..."
Song Quan thrust again. Yin Rong was furious. On one side was her husband calling idly,
and on the other was her lover's fierce and passionate fucking.
"I...no, it's just that I got my period, it hurts a bit..."
she lied.
"Your period? Didn't you just get it last week? Why isn't it over yet..."
Baoqiang asked suspiciously.
"Yes...it's not over yet...maybe it's not normal,"
Yinrong continued to lie, forcing herself to stay awake. Song Quan thrust into her several more times, and Yinrong rolled her eyes several times, almost
crying out again. Her legs twitched a few times, and a violent orgasm hit her, almost causing her to drop the phone she was holding.
"...I can't talk to you anymore, I need to take care of something..."
Yinrong quickly hung up the phone.
Without the sound of the phone, the BMW returned to silence, only the increasingly loud thrusting sounds could be
heard, and the BMW swayed back and forth, bouncing with great elasticity.
Yinrong was entangled with Song Quan, wanting to fully enjoy this rare affair,
to enjoy the attack of this unusually large penis. Although this was just one of many times, each time it made her feel like she
was dying and going to heaven, unable to stop.
They changed positions. Yin Rong knelt on the back seat of the car like a dog, and Song Quan rushed in from behind. This time,
the "hole" changed from vagina to anus. Anal penetration was the most stimulating sexual position for Yin Rong. Her most shameful
place was being conquered and filled by a man's genitals. The feeling of fullness was something only those who experienced it could truly appreciate
. Song Quan had already widened her anus considerably. Yin Rong couldn't imagine how such a large
thing could fit into her small anus. With each deep penetration, she felt like she was about to explode. Her whole body felt like it had been pierced by a
dangerous and enormous fire hydrant, ready to burst at any moment.
The penis was large and powerful; with each forceful thrust, Yin Rong felt as if each withdrawal was draining her completely
, and each insertion was about to burst her. Waves of pleasure between the thrusts and withdrawals sent her soaring
high into the air, tossing and tossing, until she felt herself flying incredibly high, even experiencing hazy hallucinations.
Everything around her became unimportant; all that remained was the endless
satisfaction driven by her boundless desire. What did morality matter? Nothing at all. Before naked desire, it was nothing but a tiny speck of dust,
so small it vanished without a trace.
Yin Rong's eyes were half-closed, her eyeballs rolling upwards repeatedly. Almost unconscious whimpers escaped her throat
, but she couldn't hear them. This intercourse had lasted far too long; she had been fucked for almost an hour
, she thought.
Song Quan was strong and persistent, which was what she was most satisfied with about him. Sometimes she couldn't even figure out if she
liked the man himself or was more fascinated by his genitals—a penis as
heavy as a horse's or donkey's testicles, let alone being penetrated by it.
Perhaps she wouldn't like him even without it; no woman would like a useless man.
Bao
Qiang stared blankly at his black-screened phone, everything returning to silence. He felt something was wrong, but
he couldn't pinpoint what it was. Thinking of his wife's familiar voice and smile, thinking of his warm home, that trace
of doubt quickly dissipated. He laughed at himself for being foolish; what was there to think about? Having his wife, Yin Rong, was
the greatest blessing from heaven; he was already very lucky.
He could never forget the day he met his wife. It was a morning after a light drizzle. He was at her school doing promotional
work, and amidst the cheering crowd, he spotted her at first glance. He fell in love with her almost instantly, a love that grew stronger with each passing moment, leading to a lifelong commitment. That day, he experienced   the same tumultuous emotions and restless heart
described by storytellers when Jia Baoyu met Lin Daiyu. He had never felt so out of control,   so absent-minded. If it weren't for the event, he might have impulsively rushed into the crowd, grabbed her hand, and left.   He was moved by his and his wife's experience, like Bai Suzhen and Xu Xian's meeting on the Broken Bridge, a love at first sight that sealed their fate   . Just one glance had so captivated him, etched it deeply in his memory, and left him unable to let go.   Just one cheer and smile from her, and he felt as if he could already smell the fragrance emanating from her.





The enticing aroma filled his heart, a feeling beyond words—a deep, soul
-stirring emotion, a beautiful sensation difficult to articulate.
He loved her flowing hair, her sheer stockings, her small, pert bottom, her
slender waist. She was a drop of morning dew on the verdant grass, a solitary orchid in a deep valley
, a piece of pure jade buried deep within the snow-capped peaks. She was his breath, his heartbeat,
every pore of his skin, every drop of his blood—and everything gained meaning from it.
6.
Like many of their previous passionate trysts, it ended. Song Quan lay on Yin Rong's bare back
, panting heavily. His penis, as thick as a soda can, still inserted in Yin Rong's anus, thrust in and out again.
He gritted his teeth and ejaculated gushes of white semen into Yin Rong's anus. When he withdrew, it made a
loud "plop" sound as the vacuum was broken, echoing in the small space inside the BMW. The large glans dripped
a mixture of yellow anal fluid and semen. The anus, which had been swollen to the size of a baseball, was still unhealed. The contrast between the inverted, fleshy red anal flesh
and the deep, dark hole was striking. Only when Yin Rong weakly rolled over and sat sprawled on the leather seat did the hole close due to the
pressure, and the white semen was squeezed out of the anus and dripped down.
When Yin Rong went to find tissues, she realized she was out. She took off one of her dark brown
stockings, crumpled it into a ball, and stuffed it into her anus. She vigorously dug, shoving a large amount of semen onto the stocking
, which quickly became soaked. She wiped her genitals with the stocking, then grabbed
Song Quan, who was putting on his underwear, and forced his mouth open by his chin. She shoved the semen-soaked stocking into his mouth,
saying viciously, "I told you to do it, I told you to do it... swallow it... if Bao Qiang had found out anything, we
would be finished... chew it... I've told you so many times, and you still don't understand. Believe me, I'll fire you tomorrow and see
how you'll behave..."
Song Quan was a little stunned, but seeing Yin Rong's angry face, he didn't dare spit out the stocking in his mouth.
"...You'd better chew it now..."
Yin Rong slapped Song Quan across the face. Song Quan screamed, forced to suppress his nausea, and
chewed on the stocking stuffed in his mouth, now smeared with his own semen. A few drops of squeezed semen dripped
down the toes of the stocking.
"Get lost! Next time you accidentally do this, see what I'll do to you!"
Yin Rong kicked Song Quan's still-erect penis, causing him to scream again, "Ouch, my
manhood..."
"Alright, stop fooling around. Let's call it a day. It'll be too late and the servants will notice. I was just reminding you
."
Yin Rong looked at Song Quan's pained expression and used her stockinged foot to tease his penis, which she had kicked and
now made limp, to say coquettishly, "Husband, you've made me so weak, I don't even have the strength to stand up.
It's all your fault, you naughty thing, you always make me feel like I'm dying of pleasure."
Song Quan spat out the stocking from his mouth, leaned over, and lay on top of Yin Rong's smooth skin.
He kissed her still-red and purplish lips, which were still flushed from desire, and said, "Wife, I love you so much.
If that damn Bao Qiang hadn't called to ruin things today, we could have had even more fun and finished earlier." " Let's figure out a way to get rid of him
, and then we can live a carefree life."
Yin Rong slurped up the few drops of semen still hanging from Song Quan's mouth, then
snuggled into his arms, her body as soft as a snake. She said, "We need to think about this carefully. It's not that simple. I'm fed up too. I've been with him for seven or eight years, and
I'm tired of him. He's an uncultured country bumpkin. Every time he comes back, he pounces on me, just going at it like a madman. He
has no romance at all. I'm so annoyed. I don't want to stay here for another day."
Song Quan felt a surge of frustration thinking about his beloved woman being forced into sex every time she came back. "Don't worry,
he won't be back for at least three months this time. Next time, we'll get him a few more movies, keep him on the go, and exhaust him so he won't have time
to bother you."
"Husband, you're so good to me, so considerate. You always arrange everything so perfectly. All these
years, that bastard hasn't even noticed. He's so stupid... an idiot, a moron..."
Yin Rong stretched comfortably in Song Quan's arms, letting his large hand
casually rub her dark, stained vulva. That vulva had been penetrated by many men; she felt that as long as she had this thing, she
could have as many men's penises as she wanted. As long as it was pleasurable, she didn't care who penetrated her, only how long it lasted
. She'd linger longer with the big, thick ones, and play around with the smaller, less thick ones without much trouble. She felt utterly satisfied
: endless money, a lover with a large, powerful penis, a husband who could boss her around and beat her, and a son with excellent genes
. Besides satisfying her insatiable sexual desires and pursuing some unusual sexual techniques, she couldn't find
anything else worth pursuing in life. The emptiness and loneliness could only be filled with repeated stimulation… Under Song Quan's rubbing
, her rotten vagina quickly became wet again, and she knew she could play again…
PS: If you don't like it, I won't write anymore. Everyone knows what I'm writing about. A work written in a fit of anger,
with many flaws. Thank you for watching!

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