I knew the red apricot was about to fall over the wall.

As

the plane circled and descended, Duoduo's heart pounded in her chest. The journey of thousands of kilometers—from taking a car at eight in the morning, entering the airport, boarding the plane, transferring, landing, taking a taxi—was nearing its end. Her watch showed almost six in the evening; winter days always end early, and the streetlights illuminated Duoduo's shifting gaze.

Exhausted from a sleepless night, she feared even more what kind of person awaited her, whether it would be a legend or a farce. Even for someone as weathered as her, this was incredibly exciting.

The northern cold was no less biting in the southern winter. When Duoduo saw that handsome face, a hint of shyness crept onto her cheeks under the lamplight. Behind a sunny smile lay a melancholy expression. In that fleeting glance, Duoduo lowered her head, realizing her heartbeat hadn't slowed. Yet, even this worldly-wise woman was still at a loss.

He approached, snatched her luggage, and laughed, "Such light luggage, and you're complaining it's heavy?"

That voice, that familiar, sun-kissed laughter that reassured Duoduo, warmly and slowly seeped into her ears, to her brain, and then to her limbs. At that moment, Duoduo felt a sense of languor. Perhaps it was just a reaction to the difference between the north and south? Duoduo asked herself.

Outside the car window, under the streetlights, the leaves of the coral trees, with their tropical charm, swirled and swayed in the wind. She sat in a movie theater with a group of people dressed in styles completely different from hers. Her stomach ached; pinching her thumb and forefinger didn't relieve the pain. She gasped weakly in the cold air, "Could you pinch my thumb and forefinger?"

"What? Stomach ache?" He pinched her thumb and forefinger, and then held Duoduo's hand. "It's so cold."

Where did the warmth come from? From the sky? From the ground? From the air? From her heart? It turned out, it came from these tightly clasped hands. She said this to herself in a very low voice, finally, she had held his hand.

Duo Duo's heart trembled, trembled. She felt her face burning. Maintaining her original posture, she gently leaned down and whispered something in his ear. Finally, unable to resist, she rested her head on his shoulder and then looked away.

In the darkness, Duo Duo smiled, a smile that mingled with dizziness.

In the dead of winter, he and she strolled through the deserted streets in the icy air. Perhaps the stroll was out of fear of facing the unknown, a feeling she had a premonition deep within her?

Entering the hotel, she put down her luggage

. For the first time, she was alone in a hotel with a strange man. A feeling of unease welled up inside her, but Duo Duo was so tired, so very tired.

He said, "I'll make you a cup of tea."

Duo Duo replied, "Okay, but I need to take a shower first. I'm exhausted."

Duo Duo opened her bag and took out her pajamas. She hesitated. If it weren't for him, she could walk into the bathroom naked, walk around the room naked. Unfortunately, she couldn't now.

Rushing out of the bathroom, she still trembled uncontrollably, chilled and nervous. Perhaps, something was destined to happen tonight. She stretched out her two bare arms, pulling the blanket to support her chin, and looked at him. She knew, clearly, that she was running within this man's gaze, never to escape his control again. For the past three months, he had used his love to keep her captive; she was no longer a wild tiger, but a domesticated cat. At this moment, tears welled in her eyes.

He: "Want to chat?"

Duoduo: "Yes, let's chat."

He walked to the bedside, reached out, and pulled her close through the blanket. Their gazes met in the air, a sense of unfamiliarity still lingering. But something had already changed. Duoduo felt a urge to run away.

He held her hand: "Why are you still so cold?"

Duoduo remained silent, her body trembling slightly. Even today, many years later, she still remembered the scene and every trembling moment.

Finally, he pulled Duoduo tightly into his arms. "Mmm..." Duoduo let out a soft moan of pleasure as her face pressed against his chest. In that instant, all the unfamiliarity vanished. When his wonderfully fragrant masculine scent, carrying a strange signal, traveled from her nose to her brain, Duoduo understood—this was the scent she had waited a thousand years for. At that moment, Duoduo wanted to cry. His broad chest felt comfortable against her, and the top of her head rested against his chin, giving her a sense of being leaned on.

It had been a long, long time since she had felt such intimacy with a man, her bare skin exposed outside her pajamas touching his bare chest. His skin had an unexpectedly smooth and pleasant fragrance. This made Duoduo nervous and flustered.

Duoduo tried to struggle, but found him holding her tightly. She could only give up, letting him kiss her shoulders and neck somewhat roughly. He said, "Eternal damnation." And she truly was doomed from that moment on.

Duo Duo tried to change the subject and hide her panic. Where to begin? Sociology? Law? Anthropology?

Tang poetry? Song lyrics? She talked about everything, his occasional replies being just muffled, unconscious sounds from his lips.

Duo Duo had a premonition of what was going to happen. When she leaned helplessly against his broad chest, she felt something hard pressing against her lower body. Duo Duo tried to struggle and said, "Let's talk about something." He didn't say a word, then suddenly picked her up and pressed her down.

"Ah..." Duo Duo let out a short cry of surprise, finding herself heavily pressed down on him. He squeezed her roughly, then began kissing her ears and neck. Duo Duo couldn't bear this teasing; her breathing became heavy.

Duo Duo reached out and pushed his shoulders, but no sound came out of her throat. He kissed her, and she was lost in the moment. Duo Duo knew that an indescribable feeling was surging within her lower body.

He gently and tenderly untied the bright red bodice with beautiful embroidery that Duoduo had bought in Suzhou. As her body was exposed to the cold night air, Duoduo weakly retreated, retreating further and further. She felt terrified; her body had never been exposed to her husband, even under the light and sunlight, the man who had only been her husband for ten days. There had never been another man in her life. When her taut, burning skin met his cool, soft skin and the slightly chilly air, tears welled up in Duoduo's eyes.

He pushed up Duoduo's bra, one hand forcefully caressing one of her breasts, kneading her nipple. He simultaneously bit and sucked on her other breast. Duoduo's body gradually went numb and limp, and she began to wriggle uncontrollably in his arms. He then moved his hand down, inside Duoduo's panties, and began to caress her buttocks. This intimacy was something Duoduo had never experienced before, and she felt an unprecedented fear and shyness.

Duo Duo could only clench her legs together, pleading for breath as he pressed her down, but when he felt the wetness of her lower body, he was already uncontrollably excited. Perhaps this was part of what Duo Duo had originally longed for? Duo Duo couldn't figure it out.

He violently tore off her panties, and Duo Duo was finally completely exposed to the man she loved. Duo Duo sighed softly, so softly that only she could hear it. Duo Duo knew that all of this was fate.

Duo Duo was overwhelmed with shame, and she still tried to struggle, clenching her legs tightly but weakly and ineffectively trying to escape, even though her lower body was already surging with desire. He pressed down on her heavily with his whole body, finding that her clenched legs were an obstacle, so he bent his right leg and forcefully inserted it between Duo Duo's legs, spreading her thighs apart.

Then he leaned down, and a faint sound could be heard as he thrust himself deep into Duo Duo's body.

Duo Duo felt a surge of wonderful sensation, a fullness, coursing through her most intimate and mysterious part of her body, shooting straight to her brain. She felt torn, swollen, stretched, violated. As all the sensations rushed in, as slight pain and pleasure surged together, Duo Duo felt as if she had finally found her home after a long and arduous search. The man before her, his body undulating beneath her, was her destiny.

He gently lifted his body, and with his movement, he moved from deep within Duo Duo's body to the entrance of her vagina. He rubbed against her vaginal opening, sending a tingling, numb, and itchy sensation through her lower body.

Duo Duo became even wetter, but she bit her lip, remaining silent from beginning to end. This gave her a feeling of being raped. He increased his speed, and Duo Duo felt his burning heat, thick and swollen, pounding against her body, again and again.

The oppressive feeling of their genitals enveloped Duo Duo. He thrust forcefully into Duoduo's body, relentlessly assaulting her as if to tear her apart. Duoduo's lower body contracted and convulsed in waves, feeling his body filling her, a blissful sensation welling up in her eyes.

He thrust faster and faster, his movements becoming increasingly rapid. Tears streamed silently down Duoduo's face. Suddenly, he looked up, gazing deeply into her eyes. Duoduo saw his barely suppressed excitement and the silent tenderness in his eyes. At that moment, Duoduo felt he was so wonderfully sexy, even the unbearably cold winter air seemed sweetly sexy. Tears streamed down Duoduo's face.

A surge of heat coursed through her body, and he finally stopped, lying on top of her.

Duoduo felt dizzy, a tear sliding down her cheek. A sentence popped into her mind: "When tears meet water… the ultimate in sex…

You gave me an orgasm. At that moment, there was no body, no organs, not even feeling."

Only an endless, bittersweet joy and satisfaction, originating from one of the billions of cells in the body, surges towards another, spreading, contracting, and then expanding within an almost infinitesimally short timeframe, until a giant black hole swallows all the cells.

In the eye of the tornado, a clear rotation, ascent, and finally a dazzling, distorted, and mesmerizing chaos.

I said to you, "If I were to write about sex, I might become the next Mu Zimei, because Mu Zimei can only describe organs, while I can describe feelings." You laughed. I know why you laughed. In this world, you are unique, and I am unique; we will not be second to anyone else.

I don't want to write about sex, although you gave me the ultimate orgasm, the ultimate sexual experience. Freud said:

sex is beautiful. But who can truly describe beauty? In short, I cannot.

And I want to say that what you gave me was not just sex, but also wisdom and interesting things, which I have been desperately searching for in this chaotic world. I recall Wang Xiaobo's words: "Ordinary people love wisdom; ordinary people love the opposite sex; ordinary people like interesting things."

Wang Xiaobo is unique, and his stature is ever-growing. However, ordinary people like you and me still have the right to share his pursuits. Because there is no absolute superiority or inferiority, I suffer for this pursuit. Your appearance makes this suffering possible. Like a solitary dancer finding a harmonious partner before them—how delightful! This is the ultimate!

I don't want to describe the ultimate in sexual love; I want to express how the love you bring me is so far removed from worldly concerns, so pure, like your clear, bright eyes, like your pristine soul.

Sex is a wonderfully enigmatic thing

. Gertrude Stein once pointed at Hemingway and others, saying: "You are the Lost Generation."

Allen Ginsberg's long poem "Howl" vividly portrays the Beat Generation.

Am I part of the lost generation or the lost generation? This question kept swirling in Duoduo's mind, like a beautiful slogan that wouldn't go away, just like the song says.

But why think about what kind of generation I am? Is such thinking a necessity for survival? Or will it lead to a promotion? Or a raise? Or can it be exchanged for some charcoal? Or a bottle of Dior perfume? This question is more like a venomous snake coiled around Duoduo's mind, making a vicious "sizzling" sound from time to time, making Duoduo increasingly depressed.

Duoduo is an artist who spends a lot of time depicting her own rich and lonely life.

The desolation after the fleeting prosperity under her brush is Duoduo's most addictive enjoyment. Black and white, blue and green, ink and pastel, exotic styles and Song and Ming landscapes, the paintings mixed by her bare hands, time comes and goes freely and casually.

Duoduo loved to imitate Li Kuchan's "Looking Afar," and experts said it was almost the original. But besides liking the endless sorrow in the eagle's eyes, Duoduo preferred the golden orange hue and the lush green of the leaves. That extravagant splendor and the rapid decay that followed was Duoduo's most obsessive yearning.

Holding Duoduo's delicate little hand, he was always amazed. A thirty-year-old woman's hand could be so delicate and smooth, just like her incredibly elastic skin. Her virginal performance in bed and her body that ignited at the slightest touch made him sigh that the Creator was always unfair.

In fairy tales, the little mermaid must meet her prince, then dance in the morning with her bleeding, aching feet, before turning into sea foam in the sunlight. At this moment, Duoduo was that little mermaid, dancing with both pain and joy under his downcast gaze.

Who is playing "East Wind Breaks" on the pipa?

He is the pipa player, Miao Fantian, and she is the trembling string under his plucked fingers.

His lips, warm and powerful, suckle at her lips, ears, and the small pink buds on her chest. She trembles uncontrollably, and the moonlight shines passionately through the curtains, illuminating their intertwined bodies. Duoduo

doesn't know if it's her own unique physical condition or his special ability, but in any case, during his sustained or short sessions, Duoduo always experiences multiple orgasms. Those feelings that most women in the world cannot experience play out in her body one after another, different from the last. Like now, this is Duoduo's third orgasm, and he still grits his teeth, thrusting relentlessly, ignoring Duoduo's desperate pleas.

"Spare me..."

"No, stop..."

"Let me catch my breath..."

From then on, Duoduo's behavior in bed became his frequent threats: "I'll make you scream all over the bed..." Like now, his breath still lingered within Duoduo, as if she were floating in warm seawater, warm and languid. She didn't want to move at all, the smell of tobacco emanating from him beside her.

Duoduo felt that when he made love to her, it was as if he used her as a canvas, painting on her, frantically applying all the colors to her body, pouring them into her mind, making Duoduo's body burn, her cells burn, the seasons change and cycle, making breathing difficult, her hearing impaired. Sex, in his hands, was so bizarre, making Duoduo feel like crying out loud.

Duoduo knew she was the one he loved, the one he could share a warm, cozy chat with by the fire on winter nights; the one whose legs intertwined with his, their warm, smooth surfaces a source of comfort; the woman who loved to pat his back with her gentle hands as she watched him fall into a deep sleep; the woman who understood his writing, who waited for his words like mining a mountain; the woman who held him in utter reverence and trust; a woman whose thoughts and souls were so close. And the body was another form of the soul's connection. Yet, the sex he gave her was strangely beautiful.

So Duoduo thought, let me be lost, let me break down.

Sex is a decadent kind of happiness.

An ancient saying goes: "Food, sex, and nature are all..."

The Su Nu (素女) said: "Sexual intercourse between men and women can harm or benefit the body; improper practice of asceticism will harm both body and mind."

Confucius said: "I have never seen anyone who loves virtue as much as he loves sex..."

The Han Dynasty in the third century AD was the era with the highest production of sex manuals. Among them, the *Su Nu Jing*, *Yu Fang Mi Ji* (and *Yu Fang Zhi Yao*) were the most popular.

Taoist practitioners of internal alchemy likened the human sexual organs to a cauldron, using essence, qi, and spirit as the three treasures for internal refinement to nourish life.

Li Yinhe said: Sex has three purposes: procreation, establishing a relationship, and physical pleasure. Therefore, Li Yinhe said that sex is a good thing, but a one-night stand where "we part ways after dawn" is a right, but harmful.

The sexual liberation of the 1970s in the United States has led to today's return to sexuality.

Countless famous scholars throughout history have explored the topic of sex. Duoduo is just a young woman, unable to study literature or write, and she doesn't want to think about or discuss the topic of sex. What she wants is simply to write down those wonderful experiences of intercourse with him, before the years dry up, to embellish all those moments.

Seven or eight years ago... Before, the term "online dating" was terrifying, like a poison that would instantly kill anyone who touched it.

Three or four years ago, online dating was no longer fashionable, and online sex became a monstrous threat, as if Gonggong had knocked down Buzhou Mountain, plunging the world into chaos and war, leaving no pure land.

Today, one-night stands and passionate videos are as commonplace as swallows that once graced the halls of noble families, heard of in the streets and alleys.

Duoduo remains unmoved by these changes. She feels like the fox tamed by the Little Prince. And he is Duoduo's Little Prince, the only rose in his eyes.

He tamed Duoduo with his love, and then transformed the sex he inflicted on her into that rose she could never leave.

When Duoduo met him, online dating wasn't very popular. They met online, fell in love, and loved each other cautiously, as if walking on thin ice. Later, he stepped offline, into her life. He kept her captive, using a large studio and stacks of Xuan paper to keep her under his watchful eye.

He wasn't a man with the patience for foreplay, or perhaps it was because he discovered that even a few light touches from him were enough to make her lose control, become wet, tremble, and quickly ignite.

Just a gentle nibble on Duoduo's delicate, soft earlobe was enough for her to feel like a bird soaring through the sky. Who says a bird doesn't leave a trace? That trace had already traced the mountains, basins, and oceans of Duoduo's body, drawing a beautiful arc. Duoduo felt

that his organ was definitely the most suitable for her in the world. It had nothing to do with hardness, length, thickness, explosiveness, or stamina; Duoduo only knew that he must have been specially chosen by God when He created man for her… Created to be paired with himself.

Sometimes, he would hold Duoduo and watch adult videos stored on his laptop, but Duoduo was always too shy to listen or watch.

Yes, Duoduo didn't understand sexual techniques or have any experience. According to him, she belonged to the kind of woman with very low sexual skills who was on the verge of extinction in this open era. But Duoduo knew that she and he didn't need any fancy techniques. Even the moment he slipped into her body, even after he had released all his passion, even when Duoduo begged him to take a break, the moment he lay still on top of her, was beautiful beyond words. She only knew that her heart was soaring in decadent happiness.

Sex was a series of free falls.

Duoduo opened the title page of "Jean-Christophe" beside her. The striking bold words read, "Dedicated to all the suffering, struggling, and victorious free souls in the world." Will a free soul prevail? If our souls are free, yet still imprisoned within our bodies, how can an imprisoned soul be considered free? He moved against Duoduo's body, and Duoduo felt his organs rushing towards her private parts at an incredible speed. His desire was like a bottomless cup, inexhaustible and overflowing, swirling and rising before Duoduo's eyes like a dazzling, ever-changing light. Even as she gasped for breath, he remained single-mindedly focused on devouring Duoduo.

Disheveled long hair, a pair of intertwined bodies on the snow-white sheets. His strength, her shyness, her features contorted with happiness, her voice rising and falling, sometimes sharp, sometimes low, sometimes hoarse and tender—Duoduo had never known her throat could produce such varied sounds. The five notes of the pentatonic scale—perhaps a melody of "High Mountains and Flowing Water"? Perhaps it was a melody of "Bo Ya Became Fascinated by Zi Qi"? Perhaps it was a melody of "Spring River Flower Moon Night"? "Whose boat is that tonight, why yearn for love in the moonlit tower?" It was right before her eyes, right before her eyes.

With a gritted teeth, Duoduo's trembling body arched involuntarily. Duoduo really wanted to find something to bite down on, to release the pent-up emotions within her. The biting, itchy, numb, and tingling sensation finally gave way to a warm current that spread from the Baihui point (crown of the head) throughout the body. Duoduo knew the sheet beneath her was soaked again; it was her own fluids, not his. He was still aroused.

Duoduo felt like a flower, welcoming the first rays of sunlight in the morning, each petal unfolding with a crisp, gentle sound, each petal stretching out in the overwhelming sunlight. He was still going at it; the pleasure that had been slowly melting within her was once again aroused, gathered together. Then, Duoduo felt like a tiny snowflake on the summit of a snow-capped mountain, once again bathed in sunlight. It melts into a tiny water droplet, falling from the point closest to the sky, plummeting at extreme speed—the thrill of freefall, the exquisite feeling.

Duo Duo followed him for three years, three years, such a long time. In those three years, he fulfilled all of Duo Duo's material needs—all her physical needs, all her spiritual needs—with Huizhou ink, brushes, Xuan paper, and Duan inkstones. He would talk to Duo Duo about Hawking's *The World of Fruit Membranes*, and they could write a few lines of the slender gold script together: "Rouge tears, leaving tears." He could even teach her how to use the Meade Maxtorf-Gesegrain 7-inch LX200GP... Let's use SMT's telescope to see Sirius, the youngest star visible within 30 degrees North latitude, a star with a brightness of 1.2 and a beautiful, deep blue glow.

However, on the first day after Duoduo had been with him for three years, she quietly left the little home he had prepared for her. Duoduo knew that all gatherings were for the final separation. That day, as he stepped onto the steps of Duoduo's house as usual, he was thinking about what kind of delicious dinner Duoduo would prepare for him. He didn't know that this departure would lead to a permanent separation.

The locked door puzzled him, but after turning on all the lights and failing to reach her by phone, he saw the familiar handwriting on the light blue peach blossom note on the coffee table in the living room:

My love:

Do you know? When you first smiled at me, how innocent and pure your smile was, so bright and sunny. An empty, outstretched palm is a gesture of anticipation, a flower blooming at midnight, a carefully held, tender secret. From that moment on, I fell in love with you.

I truly thank you; you let me know that my feelings are still alive, that they haven't withered.

I can still love someone like this.

After all, I proved that I can still love earnestly, and that's enough.

My only regret is not having taken more photos with you. I wish we could cherish every opportunity to take pictures together, because the silent lens can record our already wrinkled smiles, our lips about to reveal the secrets of love. Even though sometimes the elusive nature of love often brings us to tears, it stubbornly and unconditionally embraces us, knowing that it has a life of its own.

From afar, it's always a fantasy; up close, it's life.

She appeared at the perfect time for you, so she's the most deserving of being your destination, isn't she?

Life is just a movie. I'm writing this letter from late at night until dawn. In reality, you're sleeping soundly, someone else's boyfriend and now someone else's husband, sleeping or awake, living your life as you grow old, peaceful or uneasy.

And I'll grow old before you.

Years later, in the early morning light, gazing back on the past, if you smile, that's good, because the silent lens has finally frozen the fallen petals of the past forever; if you sigh, that's also good, because we can finally calm down and recall the fleeting glimpse that bloomed in each other's hearts.

I'm used to immersing myself in memories late at night, when no one's around, and then using my pen to freely express the restless pleasure in my soul, letting myself be excited in the darkness.

I've decided to leave you, my love. You'll surely ask me why.

Do you know? I often suddenly think of another person, a woman who always seems to float like a cicada's wing, possessing unparalleled lightness and agility, her image always looming between us. In my heart, her image is like a ghost, both real and illusory. It prevents me from fully enjoying every moment we spend together.

Although our conversations always wander aimlessly and harmoniously, no matter how unrestrainedly we laugh and talk, we always carefully avoid the topic of her. Perhaps, maybe, probably… While I enjoy being with the one I love, I am also deeply hurting another woman. I can't find balance in this. Because there are so many impossibilities between us, I feel that this kind of "infringement" will only hurt her more deeply. Whether she knows it or not, I have fundamentally hurt her and destroyed her happiness.

Therefore, I can't face myself and can only complain that we met too late, that our fate was too shallow.

My love, I have to leave you. I know that doing this will inevitably hurt you, but I am a woman too. I can even hear the sound of her heart breaking, so softly, yet so deeply wounded. Do you understand my feelings? I feel the same pain as her.

So, I have no choice but to leave. I hope time can cool this indefinable and inexplicable feeling between us. Perhaps my actions are unfair to you. But at the same time, how fair is it to myself? I simply cannot bear to be so cruel as to make another woman shed tears.

Everyone in this world brushes past true love, everyone ignores true love in their self-righteous obsession. And those standing at the center of things always know far less than those who stand aside as bystanders.

Their thoughts are also far more impoverished. So I don't know how our love will end. Will it end quickly, or perhaps it can only remain forever in my heart?

No one can tell me what to do to make the ending of love the best.

Ending love brings such guilt.

As the dog in Dao Dao's writing says: Love is short, sighs are long.

He was wrong. For me, love is long, without sighs.

Perhaps you are a miracle in all my life, fleetingly passing by, leaving a deep mark.

A lifetime in youth is ultimately too extravagant; unrequited love is like a datura flower, so beautiful yet filled with intoxicating guilt, we can choose not to face reality.

Knowing that as long as I live, my love will endure, I gaze sadly at the river's edge, listening to the sound of the flowing water. My longing for you is like the full moon, its light waning night after night, do you know?

Yet, the most brilliant moments are also the beginning of disillusionment.

Let us open our tightly closed eyes, my love, and bravely accept this reality that has become reality.

Though it's helpless, what does it matter? Life is inherently a process full of regrets. Let us embark on our journey with regrets, for it is because of regrets that we learn how to cherish the people and things around us. Such regrets are not necessarily things we can't bear to part with. Stop thinking, let's go... Came, gone, gone, far away, bloomed, withered.

My everything.

Don't forget, in my life, in this scene of love, you are the faithful witness.

The only witness.

He knew that he had finally and completely lost Duoduo. On the first day after the third anniversary.

Sex is a blooming in the dark night

. Foreword: This will be a long foreword, but Duoduo hopes that all friends who see this text will patiently read through it carefully.

Wang Guowei wrote in "Renjian Cihua": "Once a courtesan, now a prodigal son's wife. The prodigal son goes and does not return, and it is hard to keep the empty bed alone." "Why not spur on your high steed and seize the key road first? Why suffer poverty and hardship for a long time?" It

can be said to be the most obscene and vulgar. However, no one regards it as obscene or vulgar words because it is true.

"Once a courtesan" is a line from one of the Nineteen Ancient Poems by an anonymous author of the Han Dynasty. The full poem is: "Green grass by the riverbank, lush willows in the garden. A graceful woman upstairs, radiant by the window. Her delicate face adorned with rouge, her slender hands emerge. Once a courtesan, now a prodigal son's wife. The prodigal son has gone and will not return, leaving me alone in my empty bed." Wang Guowei considered these four lines to be obscene, but he did not consider them a flaw in writing or poetry because they contained genuine emotion. Wang Guowei advocated that the worst thing in writing is frivolousness, or in modern terms, the "eight-legged essay" (a rigid, formulaic style of writing). Whether ancient or modern, the "eight-legged essay" lacks depth and meaning, and is therefore unacceptable.

Thus, when netizens ask, "Are there any nude scenes?" the implication is that articles about sex, without nudity, lose their readers. Duoduo is neither Zhuying Qingtong nor Liumang Yan. Although every generation produces beautiful women, each spending a few months studying sex, and although Duoduo's figure is also quite good, Duoduo still refuses to equate herself with them. Her writing is merely an expression of her inner feelings, not for sensationalism or fame and fortune.

Duoduo also refuses to be equated with Mu Zimei. Mu Zimei's fame has its historical context and its inevitability. Besides being based on her own experiences and interviews with other similar people, her writing has a foundation in life, and her experiences and insights are inherently valuable. However, Mu Zimei and her peers are driven by a sense of emptiness in life, forced to seek fulfillment in sex. But in Duoduo's view, this fulfillment only exacerbates the emptiness and deepens the despair.

Emperor Yang of Sui built a palace in the early 7th century for his unrestrained pleasure, named the "Maze Tower." He ordered thousands of women from good families to reside in the tower, and some would remain there for a month after his sexual encounters. But Emperor Yang of Sui's time in the Pleasure Tower did not bring him greater happiness.

The first entry in Shen Fu's *Six Records of a Floating Life* is "The Joys of the Boudoir," in which Shen Fu writes: "The old woman beside me urged me to lie down, telling her to close the door and leave first. Then I sat shoulder to shoulder with her, laughing and joking, as if reunited with a close friend. I playfully explored her bosom, and her heart pounded. I leaned close to her ear and said, 'Sister, why are you pounding so much?' Yun turned and smiled. I felt a thread of affection stirring my soul, and I embraced her into the tent, unaware that dawn had broken." In an era when the ascetic doctrines of Cheng-Zhu Neo-Confucianism were prevalent, Shen Fu placed the joys of the boudoir first, a truly courageous act. Shen Fu also explained this: "Because I thought the *Guanju* poem was the first of the three hundred poems, I placed the couple in the first volume."

Emperor Yang's life was decadent and vulgar, while Shen Fu and Yunniang's was one of spiritual harmony and warmth. For Duoduo, in her mind, there was only one man in her life, and she could only have one man throughout her life. Duoduo didn't write about rampant sex; she wrote about the endless, unforgettable sex that her one and only man brought her.

The pleasures of this world are inherently concrete; danger plus desire equals an empty bed and two bodies, some beautiful, some ugly, some tall, some short, some fat, some thin.

He held Duoduo in his arms, calling her name repeatedly, "Duoduo, Duoduo," dozens of times in a row. His calls were urgent, giving Duoduo a sense of reassuring joy.

"Dinner's almost ready, stop fooling around." "Okay? Be good, listen to me.

" "Why should I listen? I'll make you use up all your energy so you can eat more later." He chuckled… He pressed Duoduo onto the bed without restraint. Duoduo felt his hot breath, his burning body temperature, and the erect, strong erection of his manhood. He was always so eager, always giving Duoduo a sudden, overwhelming happiness.

Duo Duo could feel her face burning in the darkness, a raging fire rising from her earlobes to her earlobes. Her heart pounded wildly, as if everything in the world had vanished, leaving only her beloved before her and his woodpecker-like kisses landing on her body, inch by inch. Duo Duo, who could melt at the slightest provocation, felt desire rushing from the deepest part of her body, and couldn't help but press and rub her body against his without any distance. Her

clothes were removed layer by layer, less and less. Duo Duo knew that at this moment, her eyes were filled with spring passion, hazy like the light of a tipsy star. He pressed down on Duo Duo, their bodies touching without any barriers, gently and smoothly sliding into the depths of Duo Duo's body.

Thrusting, continuous, powerful, endless. Duo Duo remembered that time, when the bell rang, he entered her body, and then, when Duo Duo was almost unconscious, she heard the bell ring again, and she couldn't hold back any longer, pushing him away from her.

"It's been an hour, please, have mercy on me." This push didn't move him; he sped up, faster and faster, a scorching heat striking the heart of Duoduo's flower. Duoduo trembled, weakly opening her hands, feeling like a firework bursting in the night, dazzling to the extreme: "May you be a woman in your next life, so you can understand the feeling I'm experiencing now."

Sex is like a meeting of kindred spirits, as the Analects says: "To meet is to encounter unexpectedly."

Life is but a grand encounter, and sex, harmonious or joyful sex, is like the meeting of Bo Ya and Zi Qi.

All we have is this aging body, which has desires, therefore suffers, will be consumed, will be extinguished, will tire, will be weary, and today's beauty will be tomorrow's skull. So why, why not enjoy it? Let us revel in the joy of life, unable to contain ourselves.

He pulled Duoduo into his arms, pressing her buttocks down to his lower body with both hands. Instantly, Duoduo felt as if a thousand tiny ants were crawling all over her body—it was indescribably itchy. Duoduo couldn't help but let out a soft "Mmm" through her nose, a sweet moan.

Reaching out her limp hands, Duoduo wrapped her arms around his neck, as if she were encircling his entire soul and never letting go. Her slender, soft, and elastic waist swayed gently, and the subtle friction between the swaying and his hardness created a masochistic pleasure, like the unquenchable thirst of someone desperately thirsty.

"Duoduo, Duoduo, give it to me..." He viciously lifted Duoduo's top, tangling it into a messy ball of flesh. Duoduo's perfectly smooth breasts drove him wild. He didn't even wait to undo her bra before pushing it up. Duoduo felt a fear of being raped, a fear that filled her with both horror and excitement. He forcefully pushed Duoduo against the wall, pressing her tightly against it. In his shock and panic, he kissed Duoduo's nipples. Rare sexual contact had left Duoduo's nipples as tender as a young girl's. Duoduo found herself unable to breathe, her mind blank, while her breasts swelled and bounced in an unfamiliar way.

"Mmm, don't do this, I haven't washed yet, I smell of sweat..." Duoduo murmured weakly.

"No, it smells wonderful! Could this be the legendary 'daughter's fragrance'?... Hehe." He chuckled as he continued his work, ripping off Duoduo's small, dark panties. Suddenly, he grabbed Duoduo's waist and lifted her up, lifting her off the ground. He pulled her slender legs apart and wrapped them around his waist, then thrust his hardness into her moist, elastic passage.

"Duoduo, it's so warm inside. Don't let me leave, I never want to leave again..."

"Ah... God, slow down, no... I need to pee, my husband, I can't hold it in, I need to pee..." Duoduo groaned weakly, struggling to pull herself out of her descent into this state of surrender. Her flushed face, the sweat-dampened hair clinging to her temples, her dazed eyes, and her passionately red tongue pressed against her lips, exuding a captivating allure.

He held the limp Duoduo in his arms, pacing around the room as he continued thrusting into her. Amidst the swaying, Duoduo murmured, "I am your bride… Look, the candlelight flickers, the quilts are scented, look, those red, white, and yellow petals cover the curtains, my husband, place me on those petals, look, my fallen petals make the flowers even more beautiful, don't they? A breathtaking climax, my husband, look, butterflies flutter among the flowers, landing on our pillows, ready to take flight, the moon has set and the stars have fallen, my husband, please…" "Release all your passion, and drift off to sleep with your wife. When you wake, we will have grown old together..."

His steps became increasingly unsteady, his movements more and more unsteady, his breathing becoming heavy. Duoduo knew he was almost there, and her own honeyed fluids had already soaked the white carpet on the ground. It was as if she were Du Liniang in the garden, startled to see Zhang Sheng, turning around slowly, glancing back lightly, and a stunning climax, a shimmering expanse spreading between him and Duoduo... Sex, how can it be just a flesh-and-blood cushion? King Xuan said to Mencius: "I have an ailment, I am fond of lust." An

ancient saying goes, "The pleasures of the boudoir are even greater than painting eyebrows."

Li Yu said: "The place for pleasure is first and foremost the bedroom."

That guy, Mo Wen, who was completely out of control, asked Linton: "Hey, is it the fastest way to get some fresh flowers?" Linton replied, "Left cancer!" Mo Wen asked again, "Is it any faster?" The guy pondered for a while, took a deep drag on his cigar, and said, "Disaster! Left thorns!!!"

The opening of The Carnal Prayer Mat is a poem like this: Black hair is hard to keep, rosy cheeks are easy to change, life is not like a pine tree. Fame fades, like a falling flower in the wind. Regret kills the youth who are not happy, the pleasure house, banishing the old man. Princes and nobles, listen to the song of golden threads, love the fragrance of herbs early. The real pleasure in the world, after counting, is still in the bedroom. It is not like the world of glory, where joy begins and sorrow ends. Enjoying every day, where the swallows sleep soundly, afraid of the morning bell. Open your eyes and see the world covered, a grand spring palace.

However, Li Yu tells us: the strength of the author of this novel lies in this. I hope all readers in the world will buy it and read it as history, not as a novel. Wherever the author addresses the reader, it is either a critical remark or a wise saying, requiring careful attention and understanding. Descriptions of sexual intercourse and depictions of bedroom pleasures border on obscenity, but the author always aims to lead the reader to the end to understand the outcome and learn a lesson. Otherwise, it would be like a book about olives, leaving a lingering aftertaste. But what if it's bitter at first bite, and no one wants to chew it? My descriptive language is like wrapping olives in dates, guiding the reader to savor the aftertaste.

Wei Yangsheng had relations with countless women, but it was all merely physical pleasure, relying on a mere phallus; his ultimate fate was tragic.

Hongxing writes these sex blogs not to gain fame like Mu Zimei through sexual exploitation, nor to earn a few coins through writing about her body like Zhuying. Hongxing writes simply to record Duoduo's experiences, so that she can read them carefully under the lamp in the future and recall how she fell headlong into his whirlpool of love and never looked back. She

also wants to tell her friends that some things are very different from what we imagine. The fulfillment of some sexual encounters has nothing to do with organs, techniques, duration, foreplay, frequency, procedures, the beauty of undressing, or the need for endless cuddling afterward. The climax and beauty of sex lie solely in the presence or absence of love.

"Duoduo, your calves are so beautiful! That woman's calves are too thick. Unlike yours, the lines are so smooth, not an inch more and they'd be too thick, not an inch less and they'd be too thin..." Duoduo and he were watching a couple dancing Latin on TV, embracing each other. Duoduo said the woman's legs were beautiful. He laughed and suddenly grabbed Duoduo's slender ankle, kissing her evenly tanned, milky-brown calves. "Look, look! The hair on this leg and this arm is all standing on end! You're so annoying, teasing me again."

"Duoduo, do you know? Men really like your sensitivity, because they can arouse you effortlessly, making love with you smoothly and effortlessly, giving you multiple orgasms in one session. That's a man's pride, you know?"

Duoduo opened her big eyes wide. Time had left its mark on her face, but her eyes remained as clear as ever.

Duoduo didn't understand. She had no experience with men and always felt they were unpredictable. But to her, he was always right. He was her everything; her paradise. She felt that wherever he was, that was paradise, and happiness there was unbelievable, like walking on clouds. He was the book beside her pillow, a source of joy and satisfaction; he was the strong arm under her neck, making her dreams peaceful; he was the wing above her head, sheltering her from the rain and sun; and he was also her teacher of love, leading her step by step into that fantastical world, a journey filled with fragrance.

Half an hour ago, he had just finished plucking his "victory flags" all over Duoduo's body and was quite satisfied when he gently caressed her breasts, slowly teasing and kneading them. Duoduo knew she was done for; his energy had returned. She couldn't help but push, block, dodge, and flinch, her body shrinking back. He said, "Duoduo, my fighting power has returned. Let's see where you can hide this time! I'll make you scream all over the bed again! Hehe."

He leaned down and kissed Duoduo's lips, first gently biting her upper lip and sucking, then releasing it and biting her lower lip hard, sucking it forcefully. Duoduo felt as if she had suddenly been immersed in a hot spring, a jolt of pleasure washing over her. Their tongues intertwined insatiably, his tongue swirling in Duoduo's mouth, forcefully drawing her tongue into his own.

"Mmm..." Duoduo could no longer speak, only letting out soft protests through her nose. Turning his head and sideways, he bit down on Duoduo's left ear, nibbling gently. Suddenly, he licked the inside of her ear canal with his tongue, while his other hand kneaded her pink nipple on the right.

"Ah...no..." Duoduo felt like a live shrimp thrown into scalding water, a faint pink flush flowing over her body. She felt as soft as a pile of fine silk, and a surge of desire melted like chocolate in her mouth.

"Still saying no? Look how wet you are. I've only just begun, Duoduo. Why can't you hold on?"

He smiled slyly, watching Duoduo writhe and moan beneath him with smug satisfaction. His large eyes narrowed, and desire surged within her. Her lost and intoxicated expression told him how much Duoduo loved him.

He kissed her all the way down, sucking on one of Duoduo's breasts, while his other hand circled her delicate breast. The tingling sensation made Duoduo feel as if he were brushing her entire body with a pure white feather, making her curl up in a ticklish embrace.

"Ah, stop teasing me, my husband, give it to me, I want it, I'm so thirsty..."

"Ha, we've only kissed the upper three parts, the middle three parts, and we haven't even gone down to the lower three parts yet, and you already want it? You're such a glutton."

"It's you, you're the one who aroused my desire, I wasn't like this before, waah..." Duoduo made a pitiful face, as if she was about to cry.

"Okay, okay, I'm bad, I've corrupted you. Here I come, my love, wait for my sword, the sword of the god of war, to conquer and plunder..."

With a splash, his manhood plunged into Duoduo's private parts amidst the sound of water. Duoduo felt that at this moment, she was no longer incomplete; that hole, that gap, was finally filled, filled.

He knelt before Duoduo's lower body, forcefully pressing her legs against her body. Duoduo, a long-time yoga practitioner, possessed exceptional flexibility. With this pressure, he could see his penis freely entering her body, a sight that excited him even more. At that moment, Duoduo felt like a flower bud beginning to bloom in the sunlight; she could even hear the sound of each petal opening, so crisp and pleasant, so exhilarating. "

Ah, no, don't look at me like that..." Duoduo saw him staring at her private parts as he entered and exited. Duoduo knew that because of her petite frame, her area was tight, and she could feel his penis squeezing, stretching, and bulging. Duoduo felt both stimulated and shy. Under this dual stimulation, Duoduo quickly reached orgasm. She put the back of her hand into her mouth and bit it. The immense happiness, the tingling numbness, along with a surge of hot fluid flowing into her buttocks, left Duoduo limp, only able to gasp for breath.

"Please, stop for a moment, let me rest." Duoduo knew he was far from finished, but these waves of dizziness, though pleasurable, became unbearable after a while. Yet, it was always like this; Duoduo knew she couldn't escape it. She remembered once, when they made love four times in one day, and it took her almost half a month to recover. "

But you know, this is your fault. I never do this with other women. After one time, I don't want it anymore. Only you leave me insatiable."

Duoduo didn't know if he was telling the truth; she only knew she loved him.

He finally finished, sat up, and smoked. The embers flickered. Duoduo took a shower and, exhausted, fell asleep immediately. Turning languidly, he heard her murmur, "My husband, if you're not here, I will never live alone."

Because of love, that kind of love that transcends life and death, Duoduo's sex wasn't just a physical act.

Duo Duo, the sexy Duo Duo. Freud said: "I focus on the unconscious three feet above the navel, but people always easily think of three inches below the navel..." Duo Duo, who only wears black and white dresses, is not tall, but she is still graceful like a bamboo. She always smiles and says to him, "When I wake up in the morning, I am 1.6 meters tall, and when I go to sleep at night, I am 1.58 meters tall. Those two centimeters were crushed by a big mountain."

"Which big mountain dares to bully you? Hmm? Tell me, and I'll go and destroy him." He said, feigning death. He had a sinister smile on his face.

Duo Duo rolled her eyes at him: "Look at you, smiling like an idiot."

Duo Duo's weight had always remained around 90 pounds, even though she especially loved ice cream cones, McDonald's, often eating three or four in one go. Sometimes, even late at night, if she wanted an ice cream cone, she would ignore the quiet of the night and the lack of pedestrians on the street, insisting on going out to buy one and eating her fill. He would always laugh: "Just one ice cream cone, is it worth it? Cornetto, Wall's, there are so many brands, why don't you eat it?"

"I only choose what's right, not what's expensive. That's just how I stick to you." But he always felt that Duo Duo wasn't that heavy, because he could always easily carry her and walk with her on his back to see the scenery, even though he wasn't a tall man.

Duo Duo was also plump; holding Duo Duo's upper arm, he could hardly feel the bone, only smooth skin and firm muscles. In the summer, Duoduo's skin is always cool and refreshing, and feels very comfortable to the touch. Duoduo's close girlfriends often like to stick their fingers on Duoduo's skin in the summer, ostensibly to cool themselves down.

He always laughed whenever he saw Duoduo wearing pants or a skirt. Duoduo's waist was only 1.7 feet, and her hips were size 26. So every time he saw Duoduo wearing pants or a skirt, he would see that her hips were rounded and beautiful, but her waist was exaggeratedly wide, looking ridiculously empty. Whenever this happened, Duoduo would stomp her legs angrily. And his laughter was like the golden ears of wheat growing vigorously under the sun. He loved when Duoduo wore wide-leg pants, because her slender waist extended downwards to form a vase shape, with a beautiful curve above her hips, as delicate and soft as blue and white porcelain, and the flesh felt warm and smooth to the touch. When you placed your hand on Duoduo's waist, the softness made you reluctant to remove your hand.

Duoduo wasn't particularly beautiful, only her large eyes were very bright, and when she squinted, they had endless charm.

However, the most sexy time for the transparent and serene Duoduo was when she was in bed. Duo Duo wasn't fat, and she had a pair of well-proportioned, even slender, legs. But because of her small frame, he always said that lying on top of her was like lying on a soft quilt—so gentle and yielding.

Duo Duo was also timid and shy. She had never heard of many of the positions in bed, believing that only missionaries could do them. She was always shy and hesitant about intimate acts in bed, refusing to let him do them. Yet, Duo Duo revolved around him, readily responding to all his actions, letting him take advantage of her, letting him be tender and loving. But after they were intimate, she would feel unbearably shy, burying her head in his chest, in his broad, warm face, refusing to lift it. It wasn't until almost a year of his "training" that she slowly adapted to this intimate bond. But whenever he called out, "Duo Duo, come on, let's bathe together," Duo Duo would absolutely refuse, dodging, hiding, and refusing to bathe with him no matter what.

The rushing water stopped, and Duoduo emerged barefoot, wearing only an exquisitely embroidered red bodice. He approached and gently gathered a strand of her black hair that still glistened with water droplets from her back. With just this intimate gesture, Duoduo felt as if his surging passion was being transmitted sensitively through her hair to every part of her body. His hands, like suction cups, covered Duoduo's breasts, his warm breath brushing against her neck, and then his lips lightly touched her neck, as if an electric current was flowing through her body and then to her private parts. At the entrance, Duoduo felt herself twitching, again and again, and desire began to spread.

He turned the car around and kissed Duoduo's lips. A faint tobacco scent wafted over, like an aphrodisiac. The two bottles of Tsingtao beer he had just drunk transformed into a sweet, fruity candy flavor on him, captivating Duoduo and stirring up her primal urges. Duoduo felt herself being melted by the heat. Another passionate miracle of love was about to unfold.

Sex, half difficult, half melancholic. Past joys are like dreams, nowhere to be found upon waking.

Duoduo often wondered, was she still the same Duoduo? Where had the reserved and restrained Duoduo gone? Was she the same passionate and frenzied Duoduo she was now?

Duoduo felt like a dazzling firework, having exhausted all her splendor, waiting for the day when, at the end of the dimly lit, cool night, she would slowly turn around, cast a desolate glance, and from then on, spring dreams would vanish like clouds, youth would leave no trace. Scattered like rose petals, only a tear, unable to be contained, warmed Duoduo's secret, warmed his genitals, and once again, they parted in a night of revelry.

In this materialistic world, love has become a mere item on a supermarket shelf, thin and pale. It only intensifies and solidifies, falling and ecstatic. Duoduo met the one who, with a single glance, struck her weak spot, becoming her Achilles' heel. All of Duoduo's wisdom and composure became the background of a black and white photograph, slowly dissipating in the damp air.

The warm orange light filled the room. Duoduo's bedroom had a large 2.5x2.5 meter bed, with layers of curtains in front. The outermost layer was a thick velvet embroidered with double diamond patterns, the second layer a soft, bohemian-style knitted curtain, and the innermost layer a thin, skin-revealing sari—an Indian sari. She hid inside, lowering all the curtains, creating a dark, self-contained world, no longer caring about the changing seasons outside the bed. Lifting a curtain revealed another scene. The four corners of the two pillows placed side by side were adorned with delicate lace crocheted by Duoduo herself.

A common sight was an arm, an arm bursting forth from the heavy curtains, weakly clawing in the air; the arc of that hand was filled with the ultimate bliss.

Facing the bed was a large mirror, as wide as the wall, sloping upwards to the ceiling. A leg, a slender and long leg, stretched straight out from the curtains, trembling, frozen in the mirror.

Duoduo stood before the mirror, scrutinizing herself. Apart from her delicate, mischievous eyes, she was not satisfied with herself at all.

Straight, shiny black hair flowed gracefully over Duoduo's bare shoulders, which were rounded and delicate. A hand, a hand that could play a flute across the rain, reached out from behind, placed on Duoduo's shoulder, gently lifted a strand of hair, twirled it between its fingers, and released it, the black hair falling in strands... In the mirror, his left shoulder was slightly red, the marks from his stubble clinging to Duoduo's chocolate-colored skin. With a snap, the light went out, filling the room with a soft moonlight. Ah, it was a full moon night, the moonlight as bright as Duoduo's thoughts, the moonlight illuminating the spring blossoms through the north-facing window.

With a gentle tug, the towel wrapped around Duoduo fell to her feet, her entire body bathed in moonlight. Her eyebrows, her eyes, her shoulders, the marks left by her stubble, her delicate breasts, her slender waist—he cupped his hands in his, bent his fingers, and plucked a melody. What tune was it? Ah, 35^ 6i^ 2.6i5, it was the Butterfly Lovers. Did he want to transform into butterflies with Duoduo? Had he decided to be with her through life and death, never to leave her? Or was it a promise before lovemaking?

He pressed himself against Duoduo from behind, his gaze sweeping over her body in the mirror.

Their eyes met in the mirror, and instantly, the reflection was filled with a radiant, breathtaking scene.

Duoduo felt her whole body begin to heat up. A year ago, she wouldn't have dared to change her clothes or take off her shoes in front of him, let alone turn on the lights for intimacy. Now, a year later, with only a faint glow remaining, Duoduo still felt too much shyness about such uninhibited intimacy. He smiled wickedly at Duoduo's reflection in the mirror, her two small pink nipples standing firm and proud.

Duoduo involuntarily straightened up and stepped forward, the gap between her legs barely visible in the mirror, the dark pubic hair at her toes lush and mysterious in the moonlight.

Suddenly, he tightened his arms, encircling Duoduo's waist, buried his face in her left shoulder, tilted his head back, and bit her earlobe, his tongue flicking out like a snake's fork, licking it. His large, hard, and hot penis pressed against Duoduo's buttocks.

"Hiss..." Duoduo couldn't help but moan from deep in her throat, panting.

"Duoduo, my darling, do you want me? Do you want me to conquer you?" He knew that with Duoduo, he didn't need foreplay. As long as he wanted, Duoduo would immediately respond to his desire, responding to his surging passion with a submissive yet frenzied devotion. In his memory, he and Duoduo had never had a failed sexual experience.

A hand roughly reached between Duoduo's legs, moist and warm, a familiar yet ever-fresh place and sensation. Having just drunk a bottle of red wine, he could no longer restrain himself. He pressed Duoduo's upper body forward and downward, causing her to stumble and lean forward, her hands hastily pressing against the mirror.

He gripped his own erect, blazing self with one hand, while the other parted Duoduo's buttocks, revealing the mysterious entrance in the moonlight—a deadly, mysterious, and lustful entrance… "I've come, my trophy, my little slave…"

The sound of his manhood squeezing into Duoduo's already wet entrance was clearly audible, like a traveler accidentally stepping into mud and pulling their foot out, lingering and passionate. Duoduo saw her features exaggeratedly magnified in the mirror, while he, sometimes slow, sometimes fast, moved with measured ease, like someone strolling

leisurely through spring.

He leaned down, his hands grasping Duoduo's soft, elastic breasts, kneading them, listening to the rapid, rhythmic sounds of his penis entering and exiting, watching Duoduo's panicked expression, her suffocating gaze, her eyes glazed over.

In the mirror, a drop of love fluid dripped from between Duoduo's legs, then another, the droplet shimmering in the moonlight, silent yet incredibly stimulating. Duoduo convulsed weakly, a faint scent of bodily fluids in the air.

"Duoduo, I'm going to brand you! You belong only to me!" he shouted, pulling out his penis. Duoduo weakly opened her eyes wide, just in time to see raindrops suddenly spraying onto her back in the mirror, the moonlight reflecting off the rain burning her eyes… Sex, that passionate affair. God is dead, my heart reigns.

Duoduo no longer held any belief in God or any god-like deity; the only thing she had was his image. He was God, he was the god.

The ancient Chinese text *Huainanzi* records: "In the past, Gonggong and Duanxu vied for the throne. In anger, Gonggong struck Mount Buzhou, causing the pillar of heaven to break and the earth's axis to snap. The sky tilted to the northwest, hence the movement of the sun, moon, and stars; the earth became incomplete in the southeast, hence floods and dust settled there..." Gonggong thus "stumbled" and created a new world. Such power inspires awe, and for Duoduo, he was someone who, with a single act, could create a new order, captivating her heart and soul. She could only look at him with admiration, and as she gazed upon him, he became the embodiment of her ultimate desire.

Duoduo felt she could never define her relationship with him in her lifetime. All the clear, visible sweetness paled in comparison to the silent passage of time. All the joys and desires of the world, in the face of heaven and the vast earth, were ultimately just a game played out endlessly, with different players but the same program.

He bought Duoduo an old house in the Jiangnan water town. The house was truly old, with waterways, stone bridges, houses built along the river, scattered trees casting shadows, a deep well with fallen flowers, and dark green tiles. Moss, damp and lush, grew mottledly on the stone walls, which had turned slightly yellow from years of smoke and sun. At the end of that ancient and long street was Duoduo's new home. Pushing open the creaking door revealed a small courtyard. Two pomegranate trees, their leaves gone, always bloomed brightly with red flowers in late spring, adding a touch of joy to the old house. Standing under the trees, Duoduo's pale cheeks flushed crimson. A deep well was in the northwest corner of the courtyard. Inside the house, which had a complete water supply system, Duoduo only used the well to reflect the flowers in the water, to see her reflection and admire his majestic figure.

When the pomegranate blossoms fade, fallen petals carpet the ground, a few delicately drifting and twirling before landing on the water's surface, creating a breathtakingly iridescent shimmer. A winding stone path, a few narrow steps, and carved wooden windows, untouched by the passage of time, still hint at their former exquisite beauty. There are only three rooms: a central hall, a bedroom to the left, and a studio to the right, with two bamboo stalks planted in front of the windows of the other two rooms. Fortunately, there are no tall buildings nearby, so the rooms are well-lit and don't feel desolate, melancholic, or lonely. Behind the three rooms is a small kitchen and a bathroom converted from a storage room. Duoduo said he built his hut in a secluded spot, away from the noise of carriages, showing how much he loved her. Everything was arranged according to her preferences.

For days, a fine drizzle had been falling, a lingering, lazy rain. Duo Duo seemed to sense his coming; the misty rain streaming in through the window seemed to have washed over all her memories of him. Did the wind rustling the pomegranate leaves foretell his arrival?

Duo Duo missed him so much. Her longing was like the greening of the southern bank of the Yangtze River overnight, like the kite's sweet cry awakening spring. Duo Duo's heart was moist and soft, overflowing with all the thoughts related to him. The sound of footsteps made Duo Duo prick up her ears like a nimble cat. She looked up; it was just the sound of rain. The restlessness in her heart was washed away by the rain. The door creaked open; it really was him. His figure in Duo Duo's eyes was like a graceful bamboo in the rain, with the dark green mountains visible behind it. The sight of the person she had been waiting for was so beautiful. Like a fledgling swallow rushing into its family's embrace, Duoduo nestled into his arms. His body heat was warm and comforting, carrying the scent of tobacco from his journey. Duoduo slowly raised her hand to his cheek, tears welling in her eyes. He pulled her closer.

After a satisfying meal, the unspoken longing found solace in the exchange of glances. Duoduo cleared the table and took the dishes to the kitchen, contemplating whether to wash them tomorrow or just now. But Duoduo felt she couldn't bear to be apart from him for even a moment. Just as she turned on the tap, a pair of strong arms encircled her from behind, tightening around her waist. Duoduo couldn't help but cry out.

"Duoduo, I'm not washing anymore, I want to add to the bet now, hehe..."

"No, you can't add to the bet, let me finish washing these dishes first..." Duoduo weakly twisted her waist, feeling the warmth of his face pressed against her back. This skin-to-skin contact made Duoduo feel her whole body start to heat up, and her private parts seemed to be already wet. Duoduo was no longer surprised by her sensitivity to his body.

Couples always have some kind of slang that only the two of them understand. For example, "adding to the bet" is a secret code between him and her. When they are separated, far apart, he misses her and will murmur her name on the phone, telling Duoduo that he misses her. When he misses her body, he will say, "Duoduo, I miss you, very much so."

"Ah..." With a start, Duoduo realized she was being carried in his arms towards the bedroom. She buried her burning face in his chest, then couldn't help but look up at his bright, sparkling eyes. Duoduo sighed inwardly, "This is my god!" He wasn't much taller than her, but his figure always seemed imposing and majestic to her. His strong arms carried her to the bedroom effortlessly, making her feel safe and secure.

He tossed her onto the bed and pressed himself against her. Duoduo screamed—a scream filled with excitement, joy, and happiness.

He rolled off her, sprawling on the bed, and said, "Aren't you going to take your clothes off?"

"Master, are you tired? Let Duoduo massage your back first, we won't take your clothes off yet, okay?" Duoduo said, feigning a pitiful expression, which seemed quite convincing.

"Hahaha, no way, come on, little girl, give me a smile, and quickly help me take off my clothes..."

He laughed wickedly, playing along with Duoduo's act.

They quickly stripped him naked, and Duoduo saw his manhood stubbornly standing tall, pointing straight to the sky.

Everyone says male organs come in all sizes, some are enormous, others tiny, but Duoduo had never had the chance to know whether his was big or small, because his manhood was the first man's organ she had ever seen in her life. The ethereal and aloof Duoduo dared not and did not want to look at related pictures on pornographic websites, so for her, his was the only one.

Before meeting him, Duoduo only knew the missionary position. Duoduo was ignorant, but some things can be learned without a teacher, like sex. Under his tutelage for over half a year, Duoduo was no longer the shy girl she once was.

She saw the weariness deep in his eyes, and she also saw the flame of desire within them. Duo Duo broke free from his hand, got up, went to the living room, brewed a cup of his favorite fragrant tea, returned to the bedroom, and placed it within easy reach of him on the bedside table. She then took four pillows, folding them into a comfortable angle, and let him lean against her. Duo Duo gently removed her clothes, leaving only a small red bodice and a pair of panties embroidered with beautiful roses .

He leaned comfortably against the bed, wondering what his woman was going to do today. Duo Duo sometimes surprised him.

She reached out and dimmed the light, leaving only the bedside lamp emitting a soft, dim orange glow. Duo Duo decided not to let her man, who had just returned from a long and arduous journey, feel as if he had fought a hard battle. She gently leaned down in front of him; his gaze could see a sliver of cleavage along his stomach, which made his breathing quicken. Duo Duo gently bit his earlobe, her tongue licking the small earlobe bead, then moving down his neck, sucking on his Adam's apple, feeling the pleasure from its movement as he swallowed.

He'd recently started bodybuilding, making his already muscular pectoral muscles even more defined. His teeth gently bit his small nipple. Looking up, he saw the desire in his eyes deepening, and a hint of amused curiosity in his own, as if to say:

"What does my Dodo, whose kissing and sex skills are so low, want to do today?"

Dodo laughed, her big eyes narrowing: "Today, I won't let you get tired. Usually, you're the only one busy giving me the most comfortable, happy, and blissful feeling. Today, let's switch roles!" With that, Dodo lowered her head and bit his pectoral muscle hard: "Hehe, Master, you could wear an F-cub now."

"...Hahahaha..." He always felt that his quick-witted Dodo brought him a lot of joy.

On his abdomen, Dodo pouted her lips and made circular motions around his navel, expanding the circles. Something ticklish, hot, and slightly warm swept towards his groin.

Her tongue pressed against his navel, softening and gently circling, then hardening, pressing again, and then relaxing. Duo Duo's small hand reached for his manhood, gently grasping his scrotum. Duo Duo had applied some essential oil to her hand, and with this grasp, the scrotum slipped from her grasp. Duo Duo laughed; she had no experience, she would correct her technique next time.

Duo Duo felt more like she was playing a game. At this moment, Duoduo buried her head between his thighs. She saw his penis; though it stood erect and angry, his genitals were still delicate. The foreskin was short, and with a gentle push, the delicate glans was revealed. Duoduo wasn't sure if the word "delicate" could describe the glans, but it truly was. The base was long and straight, perfectly fitting in her hand. Holding it, she could feel the pulsating veins, as if blood was constantly rushing to the glans, a prolonged and intense stimulation stimulating her palm. The slit on the glans, when gently pulled aside, revealed a slender, alluring slit, almost like a fox's eyes. It was as sexy as a creamy ice cream that might melt and drip at any moment.

She gently rubbed her nose against the glans. Duo Duo felt a spasm in her lower body, a urge to urinate. She was puzzled; even without intercourse, contact with his genitals was enough to trigger an orgasm. A slight ache and pain coursed through her intimate area. Duo Duo felt she needed to do something to quell the thirst. (More high-quality erotic stories, follow the WeChat public account [雪影小说] for abundant resources and continuous orgasms.) His tongue gently licked the crevice between his thighs and genitals, moving from bottom to top. His breathing quickened, becoming more rapid. He gently lifted his hips towards Duo Duo's lips, matching the rise and fall of her head. A sense of restlessness, a restlessness tinged with desire.

As Duo Duo's tongue expanded its range, he involuntarily spread his legs, gently stroking his pubic hair. Duo Duo's tongue reached his anus; there was no odor. He was always a clean man, though he had a strong body odor, his lower body was so clean. Duo Duo felt his slight tremor, and her body began to writhe.

Moving upwards, she took one of his scrotums into her mouth. With one hand, she gently stroked his penis. Duo Duo knew her stroking was utterly unskilled, and he probably wouldn't feel any pleasure, but for Duo Duo, who was incredibly shy about sex, doing this for him might have been stimulating in itself. Duo Duo felt a surge of pleasure that sent shivers through her body, a lingering, undeniable happiness.

She carefully placed her teeth inside and gently took his penis into her mouth, slowly sliding it down until it pressed against the depths of her throat. Mmm, Duo Duo could feel the throbbing of his penis with her tongue. She moved her head up and down, her tongue parting the thin slit of the glans. A slightly salty liquid immediately welled up on her tongue, odorless. (For more high-quality erotic stories, follow the WeChat public account [雪影小说] for abundant resources and non-stop climaxes!) Slightly salty and sour, Duoduo used every cell in her mouth to savor the deliciousness before her, perhaps even savoring the feeling of loving him! Because she loved him, everything about him was good. His genitals seemed to have their own independent life, bouncing and slapping against the inside of Duoduo's mouth. Duoduo's body trembled, and some saliva gushed from her lower body. Duoduo realized that she had reached orgasm. Her face

flushed, her body burning hot, his burning penis moving back and forth in Duoduo's mouth. His penis casually touched Duoduo's throat, and then he couldn't help but lift his body, thrusting deep into her throat, as if squeezing Duoduo's soul into the depths of her mind.

Duoduo's saliva secretion increased dramatically. Duoduo wanted to scream, to shout, to laugh, to laugh out loud, but Duoduo also hoped that he would remain quietly in her mouth, letting the burning desire in her throat endlessly entwine. A sweet pleasure spread from her mouth down to her lower abdomen.

The pace quickened, the kneading, sucking, squeezing, licking—wave after wave. His genitals, like the constantly fluttering wings of a dragonfly, continuously touched the sensitive flower in Duoduo's mouth, accumulating, accumulating further. Would his hot, condensed milk-like semen finally, like a long-awaited summer rain, with primal unbridleness, assault Duoduo's throat and tongue, deeply impacting her soul?

Duoduo waited nervously and excitedly. Oral sex, this romantic affair, echoed in the unpredictable moans, finally blossoming into a pure red flower, like the pomegranate blossoms before the house!

[The End]

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