A woman you can never love enough

Beijing, Shichahai.

Mu Rong entered a building that looked like a civilian house. Unknown to outsiders, this was the operations command center of the Central Military Commission's Strategic Research Center, a strictly restricted area.

It consisted of a group of rooms, each separated by glass walls and protected by various known electronic surveillance devices. On one wall hung a row of large clocks displaying topographical maps and time zones of different countries; on another wall stood a large-screen television.

Secure communications were maintained between this location and the General Secretary's office in Zhongnanhai, the Premier's office, the State Security Bureau, and the headquarters of major military regions.

After passing through several checkpoints and answering a series of passwords, Mu Rong entered the underground bunker and stood easily before Lang Zong.

As a member of the Central Military Commission's Special Criminal Investigation Section, he consistently carried out orders from his superiors and always completed tasks excellently, thus earning Lang Zong's favor and high regard.

"Mu Rong, from the Special Crime Investigation Section of the Central Military Commission, is reporting for duty. Please give your instructions, Section Chief Lang!"

Two years ago, Lang Zong discovered the multi-talented Mu Rong from the Chengdu Military Region. After a long period of observation and meticulous political vetting, he was transferred to the Central Military Commission. Mu Rong lived up to expectations, cracking several espionage cases targeting important military bases and three arms smuggling cases, achieving remarkable results and receiving numerous commendations.

"Sit down. Let's get straight to the point. I have a mission for you to complete."

Lang Zong handed a document to Mu Rong, his expression very serious.

"This is the file of Lei Huandong, an intelligence officer with the code number Nan A112, belonging to the Central Military Commission's Intelligence Section. He was assassinated in his dormitory in Jiangcheng on September 30th."

Mu Rong looked at the wound on Lei Huandong's body in the photo, let out a long sigh, and said, "The method was clean and efficient; he was a professional assassin."

Lang Zong looked at him with admiration and said, "Lei Huandong's identity was unknown to outsiders. He was mainly responsible for peripheral intelligence work at the Jiangcheng military base, and usually worked as an ordinary cadre in the Jiangcheng Armed Forces Department. Whether he was mistakenly killed or whether the other party knew his identity before carrying out the attack, this remains to be investigated by you."

After speaking, he stood up and paced around the room. His tall and strong physique exuded the calm and collected temperament of a professional soldier.

Mu Rong snapped to his feet and saluted, "I guarantee to complete the mission. Please rest assured, organization." His words revealed a strong belief and an unwavering determination to win.

Just as Mu Rong was about to reach the door, Lang Zong's voice sounded behind him, "Perhaps you should know that Lei Huandong is the son of General Lei Xuebing. It's likely that General Lei will send his men to investigate this matter. If you encounter him, you must prioritize the overall situation and report any urgent matters to me immediately."

Mu Rong's tall figure paused, a shadow falling over his heart.

"You've only been back a few days and you're leaving again? How annoying!"

His beloved wife, Guan Zhao, said with a hint of reproach, lightly slapping Mu Rong with her small hand.

"Haven't I had enough of you these past few days? Let's do it again." Mu Rong suddenly used his hands to gently lay Guan Zhao down on the soft sofa. Before she could cry out, he had already sealed her warm lips with his.

Guan Zhao moaned softly, her tongue intertwining with his, their tongues dancing, their saliva flowing, a burning desire igniting within them.

While kissing, their hands were also busy, having already undressed each other and rolled naked onto the sofa.

It was so warm at home, Mu Rong thought, touching his beloved wife's warm body and receiving her gentle caresses. He felt a surge of tenderness, a touch of heroism creeping in.

He lowered his head and gently kissed Guan Zhao's arched eyebrows, delicate nose, and crimson lips, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, realizing how much he had failed her.

He was often out fighting on the front lines, earning far less than her. Most of the expensive furniture and appliances in their home were purchased with her money, and he had left her alone day and night for so many nights. Yet she had worked tirelessly and selflessly, managing their small family with unwavering dedication, especially in this materialistic society.

He took a deep breath, leaning over her firm breasts, inhaling their natural, fresh scent and the rich aroma of her milk.

This was a woman he could never love enough!

If you were to describe a beautiful woman, wouldn't it be something like this:

long, glossy black hair, smooth, delicate skin, rosy lips, a high, full bust, a flat stomach, a slender waist, full hips, long legs, and pointed ankles? And of course, don't forget her heartbreakingly beautiful, slightly melancholic eyes that could easily ignite impulsive impulses.

But using these descriptions to depict Guan Zhao seems too crude and superficial.

So when Guan Zhao married Mou Rong, a penniless salesman from a small factory, the entire capital's tax bureau was in an uproar. Comments like "A beautiful flower stuck in cow dung," "Unexpectedly, Guan Zhao is big-breasted but brainless," and "This woman is crazy!" are too numerous to recount here.

When Guan Zhao entered the tax bureau, she greeted the gatekeeper as usual.

Even this ordinary gesture baffled many; the great beauty Guan should have been high above, holding her head high as she entered her sacred hall.

“Little Guan is here. Here’s a letter for you.” The goalkeeper always avoided looking at her directly when he handed her the letter, because every night he would fantasize about this beautiful woman until he fell into a deep sleep.

“Thank you, Uncle Dai.” Guan Zhao smiled slightly, revealing her perfectly polished teeth.
“This is a Cuban smuggling ship. It will take you to Argentina. After you arrive in Buenos Aires, a contact will come to find you.”

The speaker had dark brown skin and long hair that hung down his collar. Wen Yusi’s first impression was that he must be a wrestler or a rugby player, because he was enormous, weighing nearly 300 pounds.

“Your final destination is Marseille, France. My old friend Mandrelly will be waiting for you in Aubagne. Wen, good luck!”

“Thank you, George. Of course, I’ll leave Barbara to you.” Barbara was Fu Zaiyin’s English name.

“Of course. You know I love her very much.”

Wen Yusi nodded silently. George had pursued Fu Zaiyin for over a decade, and if she hadn't needed his help in her time of need, she probably would never have agreed to be with him.

The sea breeze raged on the dark dock. Wen Yusi brushed the dust off his shoulders. His gaze fell upon a long and uncertain road ahead, a different world awaiting him.

He was heading towards a quagmire filled with the stench of death. In this cold world, there was no warmth or care, only training beyond the comprehension of ordinary people. Survival of the fittest was the first principle. Death would be a constant companion throughout, and the road ahead would be fraught with thorns, every step fraught with difficulty.

This was the French Foreign Legion.

“I swear, I will be loyal to our Legion!”

“The Legion is my homeland.”

After six months of brutal, grueling training in the 4th Foreign Legion in Castellodari, France, Wen Yusi had distinguished himself. They were then transferred to the 2nd Foreign Parachute Regiment, stationed in Kot, Corsica. This regiment consisted of its headquarters and four field companies. They prided themselves on their ability to reach any designated location in the world within 24 hours and deploy for combat. One of their companies was frequently deployed to the 13th Light Armored Training Division.

For three whole years, he and his comrades fought on multiple battlefields in the Middle East and Africa. If it weren't for that dreadful Ebola virus, he wouldn't have been forced to retire.

Years later, Wen Yusi still vividly remembers those difficult years wearing a white top-crowned military cap, the 15-line shirt, the green epaulettes with red tassels, and the resounding "Mubudinchant"—these images often appear in his mind.

"How's George? Still working as his senator's assistant?"

Wen Yusi stroked Fu Zaiyin's smooth back, his chest pressed against her still-firm breasts, feeling the intense teasing of those two cherries.

Her hair was soft and black, perfect for being a cosmetics spokesperson, he thought.

Fu Zaiyin felt unbearably hot all over. Although it was late autumn, she felt unusually dry-mouthed, and desire burned in her throat and chest. Making love with him was the most beautiful thing in the world, but also the most unbearable, because the process was so long, often draining all her energy.

"He's doing quite well now. After divorcing me, he married a woman from a prestigious family, his career is booming, and he's now the National Security Advisor."

His fingers lingered on her vulva. Was he playing a musical instrument? Was he using her clitoris as a dancing note?

A tingling sensation ran through her body, her bones seemed to melt away, and she collapsed softly onto the smooth deck.

A trickle of fluid transformed into a wanton river, flowing between his fingers.

"Oh, why did he divorce you? Was it because of me?"

Wen Yusi lowered his head to drink her gushing spring. Her passion and sensitivity were as strong as ever, undiminished by the passage of time. Although her pubic hair was slightly sparser than before, it was still fine, dark, and neatly arranged.

The soft, elastic vulva, the clitoris as hard as a walnut, and the ever-flowing fluid—all were so familiar and unforgettable. No woman could surpass her! No one!

Wen Yu felt his own heat mingle with hers. He murmured, his almost hoarse voice mingling with her heavy moans. His penis was already erect, searching for its rightful place.

Fu Zaiyin's eyes were languid, burning with desire, intensifying when they met his deep gaze. She could hear the full passion in his rhythmic caresses. His tongue squeezed into the muscular inner walls of her vagina, full and powerful. She trembled all over, responding with a sob. "

I love you," she thought dazedly, the lovely, fiery sensation expanding within her with his entry, firmly occupying her entire being.

Fu Zaiyin suddenly became weak and powerless, collapsing into his strong embrace. Her slender body was covered in hot sweat, her eyes closed, as if she had fainted—unthinkable for a well-trained woman.

Yet only at this moment could she tremble and welcome his penetration!

He lifted her up, gently kissing her flushed face. "Say it, say you want me to fuck you, to fuck you." His eyes shone brightly like stars in the dark night.

"I want you to fuck me, fuck me hard!" Her reason had vanished in the throes of lust; only sex could make her forget the past.

His hands were so strong; she could imagine her entire weight as his penis plunged deep into her body, reaching the very source of her bliss. Waves of pleasure washed over her, and she felt herself about to collapse in the howling river wind. Wen Yu buried his head between her breasts; only with her did he feel like he was home—the warmth of his mother, the scent of her breasts, the breath of his mother.

He thrust harder, his hips swaying faster, his penis growing larger and thicker with each thrust. He could feel the call from deep within her, a tender, lingering call. He couldn't resist the allure and magic; his penis plunged to the very depths of her flower, throbbing, searching for the source of pleasure.

With each thrust, her love fluids seeped out, mingling with the outward bulge of her deep red inner muscles. She gradually felt short of breath, her hands helplessly reaching upwards, convulsing and spasming, until the last drop of her vaginal fluid was released, until she was utterly exhausted.
For a long time, they remained silent, listening to the roar of the river outside the window.

"American politics cannot tolerate him marrying a woman of color; it hinders his future,"

Fu Zaiyin said, her voice tinged with sadness. After all, George truly loved her. When he married Betty Kennedy, she knew his future was bright. After years of hard work, he was now a rising star in politics.

"Don't be sad, you still have me." Wen Yusi, still savoring the moment, caressed her sensitive areas. She was ten years older than him, like a fine wine that only gets better with age, always able to intoxicate one's heart without them even realizing it.

"What do you want me to do this time? You wouldn't come unless absolutely necessary all these years."

For years, she had always remained behind the scenes, partly because she worried that CII would hold a grudge and find Wen Yusi, who had retired and was hiding at Jiangcheng University, and partly because the things she asked him to do were contrary to CII's organization, sometimes even sabotaging it. Today, stepping into the limelight must mean something big was about to happen.

"Wen, after this job, I want to retire." Fu Zaiyin sighed, her voice filled with bitterness. "I'm tired, I want to rest. If possible, I really want to have a son for you."

As she spoke, her face flushed, her emotions stirred, tender and moving.

Wen Yusi gazed deeply at her still-reddened face, the past like smoke, swirling in the long river of his memory. He tightened his arms around her.

“Okay, let’s stop. We’ve earned enough money over the years to live a life of luxury.”

“My flight departs from Shanghai tomorrow afternoon, so I have to leave first tomorrow morning.” She gently rested her head on his strong chest, her body surging with boundless passion. “I’ve bought a villa in Bern. After you finish this, I’ll wait for you there. Wen, will you come?”

Wen Yusi withdrew his hand from her vagina, feeling its slippery wetness. “You know, this has been a dream of mine for a long time.” His deep eyes gazed through the thick river fog at the fishing boats coming and going on the river, lost in thought. Because

it was Sunday, the Jiangcheng Municipal Party Committee office building was rather deserted. Five people sat in the Jiangcheng Municipal Party Committee office, their expressions serious, clearly holding a special meeting. When Mu Rong revealed his identity, the Municipal Party Secretary Yue Bochuan was extremely shocked. He couldn’t believe that Lei Huandong, the deputy director of the Municipal Party Committee office who had followed him for many years, was actually an intelligence agent of the Central Military Commission.

"Secretary Yue, let me introduce you. This is Zhen Yong, an officer from the Foreign Affairs Group of the Provincial Military Sub-district." Zhen Yong was young, wearing brown-tinted glasses, with fair skin, a slender build, and a scholarly air. He nodded slightly to Yue Bochuan.

Mu Rong pointed to another ordinary-looking young man and said, "This is my partner, Gong Kai. We will be working in Jiangcheng from now on, and we hope Secretary Yue will take good care of us." Gong Kai nodded slightly to them. He had dark skin and appeared to be short, possibly from the south.

Yue Bochuan smiled broadly, firmly grasping Mu Rong's hand, and said, "It is Jiangcheng's honor and Yue Bochuan's glory to be able to do something for our soldiers. Just ask if you need anything; we will provide manpower and funding as needed. We will do our best to cooperate with and support the work of the Central Military Commission."

He patted the shoulder of a middle-aged man in a suit with a melancholy expression beside him and said, "If I weren't here, Mayor Lang Huaixu would also have done his best to support you."

Lang Huaixu smiled and said, "It is an honor for me to be able to contribute my modest efforts to the Military Commission."

Mu Rong said calmly, "Thank you for your support, but I had no choice but to come to you. The detailed information about Lei Huandong's murder has been taken from the Public Security Bureau, and Director Huo Zhizhang doesn't seem to be very welcoming to us."

Yue Bochuan said, "Oh, is that so? I'll call him right away, but you know how difficult things can be at the local level sometimes."

"I understand, but please call Director Huo over here. I want to talk to him privately." Mu Rong already sensed that this matter was not so simple, and he felt a great deal of pressure.

Just then, Lang Huaixu suddenly said, "Secretary Yue, you don't need to call. Director Huo consulted me. He wanted to see you that day, but you led a delegation to visit our sister city Sydney in Australia, so he couldn't reach you. He consulted with Comrade Lu Jiugao, Secretary of the Political and Legal Affairs Commission, and me, and we made the decision together." After speaking, he took out a letter from his pocket and solemnly handed it to Yue Bochuan.

Mu Rong's sharp eyes immediately noticed the large red printed words on the envelope, signed by the National Security Commission of China.

It was a damp October morning.

Last night, a fierce storm swept through the beech forest behind the house, swirling leaves in the air before they fell to the ground. Rain poured through the open window, soaking the curtains.

Qi Xiaozhu walked naked to close the window, then stared at her reflection in the mirror.

As the years quietly passed, her body grew old, but her eyes retained the shape and spirit of her childhood—still gentle, gazing into the distance, her eyebrows like two brushstrokes still wet with ink.

The rest of her body had become bloated and aged; the wrinkles on her abdomen testified to her passing years, but her eyes remained young. Perhaps it was the unusually pale color of her eyes that gave them a touch of innocent girlish charm, as if they would never mature.

"That old man didn't come home yesterday, what a waste of my time."

The bed was a mess, Qi Xiaozhu's face flushed. She reminisced about the joyful scene of her playful frolicking with Hui Qingji last night. She remembered having over ten orgasms, leaving that strong young man exhausted and pale. They lingered until almost dawn before she let him go, yet she felt as if she had

n't had enough. She didn't know if she had contracted some kind of illness, sinking deeper and deeper into the abyss of indulgence.

As the director of the Jiangcheng City Cultural Bureau, she held Hui Qingji's future in her hands. He was aiming to advance from his position as office director to deputy director, and whether he succeeded depended on her attitude. Because she wasn't just the director; she was also the wife of the municipal party secretary in charge of personnel.

The image of Hui Qingji frantically licking her genitals kept replaying in her mind. She thought of his warm lips, of him opening his mouth and sticking out his trembling red tongue to envelop her purplish-black labia, passionately sucking her gushing fluids.

Under the warm orange light, she trembled with excitement, her two convulsing bodies entwined in this boundless springtime.

She especially loved his penetration of her anus; the stinging sensation was indescribably wonderful!

"Deeper, deeper!"

she cried out, urging him to enter, her large buttocks rising and falling to meet his vigorous thrusts. The waves of pleasure from his large penis rubbing against the rectal wall made her feel as if she were floating in a dream.

Qi Xiaozhu pulled out a few sheets of toilet paper to wipe her loose lower body; her fluffy black pubic hair hung haphazardly over her vulva. She licked her dry lips, swaying back and forth in the recliner. In another hour, another subordinate was coming.

She thought of that man's hard muscles and powerful genitals, and the intense, expanding sensation as he penetrated her vagina.

Aside from Old Zhang, the gatekeeper, every man in the Jiangcheng Cultural Bureau was hers. Every day before work, she would be radiant and ready, because "work" meant, aside from handling necessary official business, she would usually stay in the small suite behind the office, spreading her large legs to await the fawning of her subordinates until her belly was swollen with semen.

Power is truly a wonderful thing!

She tightened her legs again, closed her eyes, and let her imagination run wild.

[The End]

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