[The cornfield in my hometown]

Back in my hometown, in the cornfields, when I was 16, I dreamt for the first time of a girl wearing a soft, loose

cotton dress. The gentle breeze blew, and the shapely curves of her rounded buttocks aroused me in the dream, resulting in my

first nocturnal emission.

When I reached between my legs and touched that sticky substance, I felt both nervous and excited. Although

I didn't understand what it was, as the frequency of my nocturnal emissions increased and those stimulating scenes from my dreams

recurred, I gradually came to understand the pleasure of masturbation. It became an uncontrollable

habit this has continued into my married life.

Of course, my wife initially didn't understand my actions, thinking I wasn't satisfied with her. But

a very isn't a sufficient condition for a man to stop masturbating. Later, after my repeated explanations and seeing

the facts, she gradually understood and got used to it. Now, when she's feeling down or physically unwell, she sometimes

tries to help me with it, and it's become a regular occurrence. Especially when my husband and I are temporarily

separated for various reasons, she understands how I cope with that loneliness and isn't too worried about me messing around. And

that's generally true, so masturbation has indeed made a certain contribution to social stability.

Before, my family lived in a remote rural area of Anhui. The local people were very kind, and the women were very virtuous.

You can sense this from the gentle, tender tones of Huangmei Opera. Of course, as a typical

rural area , there were many reed beds and cornfields. So finding a place to masturbate wasn't difficult.

Masturbating in a reed bed or cornfield is very relaxing, and sometimes you might even encounter unexpected scenes.

People from rural areas probably know that when rural women need to urinate while doing farm work, they often

find a place they consider secluded to relieve themselves. Once, I went out to gather pig feed.

While wandering around with my basket, I happened to see a discarded newspaper with a still from the movie *Rickshaw Boy*. In the picture, Tiger Girl was flirting with

Xiangzi. This ordinary still aroused me, and I went into a nearby cornfield. The towering

corn made me feel safe and well-hidden.

In this environment, you can indulge yourself. So, I boldly took

off and imagined a girl I liked in front of me, how I would take off her clothes one by one

, then start touching her breasts, lying on top of her, while rapidly thrusting my hand, which was tightly gripping my penis,

until I reached pleasure. It's safe to say that every man who masturbates (I don't know much about women) probably

imagines a woman they like or a scene from a book while masturbating.

That time, just as I unzipped my pants and pulled out my penis, ready to do it, I suddenly heard a noise nearby.

Startled, I quickly pulled up my pants, squatted down, and looked around. I soon spotted

a white buttock and red clothes swaying in the weeds not far away, near a reed ditch. It was clearly a woman, and

I felt an indescribable excitement. Who was it? Afraid of being discovered, I quickly lay down and

stared intently at the white buttocks until she finished and left. A while later, I pretended to have just come from

somewhere to gather pig feed, and slowly walked to the spot. I saw a puddle and some

transparent water droplets hanging from the branches of the weeds. The soft soil there had been eroded into a small pit.

I casually looked around, and soon spotted two

women , weeding near a cornfield where there seemed to be some beans planted.

They were about 30 years old and from a nearby village. Judging from what I'd just seen,

it was the woman with the better figure, wearing a red shirt and gray pants. The slightly thinner

woman next to her had a very alluring bust. I secretly stared at her gray pants for a long time, seemingly trying to see through

them white buttocks. That afternoon, I stayed in the cornfield, secretly observing them.

I knew that if they didn't leave, they would definitely need to relieve themselves again in a few hours, and I would have another

chance to see their buttocks, or even more enticing areas.

Sure enough, about an hour later, the thinner woman put down her tools and slowly

walked towards the reed ditch. Based on my assessment, I quickly adjusted my position to have a

clearer view and better security. Soon, she arrived near where the other woman had relieved herself.

They probably thought this was the most secluded spot in the area, because the reeds and cornfield acted as a shield. She had no idea that a young man was secretly watching her

from behind a low, dense willow grove not far away . 　　She calmly unbuckled her red belt, revealing a floral-patterned pair of panties. She didn't immediately pull them off, but instead unzipped her shorts, examining them closely, seemingly admiring her pubic hair. She even reached inside with her right hand and touched it, a satisfied expression on her face. A minute later, she finally pulled down her panties, reached to remove a few blades of grass that had touched her buttocks, and squatted down. The sound of running water, and her not-so-white but clean and firm buttocks, immediately aroused me. Because of the bushes beside her, I couldn't see her genitals clearly, but as she wiped herself, I vaguely caught a glimpse of a dark pubic hair. 　　From that moment on, whenever I see fields of corn and reeds, I think of a woman's white buttocks. Truly, it seems to be the most beautiful scene in the world: a green background, white buttocks, and those natural curves. 　　To this day, I am still influenced by this, and I particularly enjoy looking at women's buttocks. As far as I know, every man , aside from the face, has a favorite part of a woman's body. Some like breasts, some like buttocks, and of course, some like long legs or feet. I like a woman's full buttocks, but not large ones. In Western countries , women's buttocks are mostly large, which is the main reason I dislike Western women. Later, after I understood the specifics of marriage, I thought that after I got married, I would definitely take my wife to a large cornfield , spread a cloth on the ground, and we would both take our clothes off and have a good time touching and making love. Of course, I've already done this more than once. I think every man has a certain desired place to make love with his beloved woman in a relaxed or tense environment. Some like to make love in the bedroom, under dim colored lights, while others like to be intimate with their lovers on rainy days.

Of course, some people also enjoyed having sex with women in the wild.

Later, I left home to attend high school in the county town. Because there were six of us in one room, and the beds were

of poor quality, masturbating in bed at night often made the beds creak, which made me very nervous, like I was doing something

wrong. So later I changed to masturbating in the toilet during evening self-study. At that time, the school toilets didn't have

lights at night, so I would quietly feel my way to the squat toilet in the dark, take off my pants, and then use my right hand to move

my until I ejaculated. Sometimes the sounds coming from the girls' toilet next door made me fantasize even more.

This kind of life accompanied me through almost three years of high school. At that time, there were no women to patronize, and

relationships between were still considered a big deal. So sometimes when I saw a court notice sentencing a rapist on the street, I would

stop and read it carefully. To be honest, at that time, such a notice had an impact on us that was no less than

a pornographic novel today.

During my second year of high school, one evening I went to the county cinema. I noticed a loose brick in the wall

between ; a slight push would create a small crack. I suspected it

wasn't my fault, but someone had deliberately put it there. I heard running water from the next stall, so I

mustered my courage and pushed it open. There was a woman in her early twenties squatting there, her face flushed, seemingly straining.

That night, on my way home, I

masturbated , eventually ejaculating inside.

After graduating high school, I was admitted to a university in Nanjing, not too far from my hometown—

about . My father insisted on sending me to university. I agreed; he

had worked in Nanjing before and was familiar with the area. My major was international finance. From the roster the teachers at the registration office had, I saw

there were 38 people in my class, 16 of whom were girls. The hometowns listed after their names told me that one of the girls

was from the same county as me. Honestly, I immediately had a feeling that it was fate,

that this girl would be my girlfriend, or even my future wife who would bear my children. At least I would have the chance to see

her naked. I'm not kidding, that's what I thought at the time.

Coincidentally, just as I was imagining all sorts of scenarios about our future, even picturing her lying naked in

a cornfield making love with me, she suddenly appeared. It turned out she had come on the same bus as me

, but unfortunately, I was sitting in front and hadn't noticed her along the way. So, after she registered, my father

took to ask her if she was from a certain county. After confirming, we naturally felt like we were from the same hometown.

She was quite pretty, not very tall, but her breasts were already well-defined, and her buttocks were especially round, which was

the main reason I wasn't disappointed.

After we received our dormitory keys and put down our luggage, my father was happy that I had company there

(but I'm sure his idea of "company" was different from mine). He took us to a small restaurant on

campus for a meal. Because I felt guilty and my father was there, I didn't

dare look at her closely or say much during the meal. While eating, my father said, "You two should care about each other,

share things, and keep each other company when you go home." To me, his words sounded like

encouragement for me to pursue her. I don't know what she was thinking at the time. When I asked her later, she said she didn't think anything special and

that it was just ordinary talk, which I didn't quite believe.

On the third day, when my father went back, she came from the girls' dormitory to see him off, all the way to the bus stop for route 35 outside the school

. After waving goodbye, I had my first chance to talk to her. Not knowing what to say,

I started talking about the college entrance rate of her old high school, why she chose international finance as her major, and so on.

Along the way, I kept mustering my courage to stare at her. She seemed shy, occasionally glancing up at me, but mostly

keeping her head down as she spoke. Midway through the journey, a cyclist rushed up from behind, probably without braking.

In pulled her to the side of the road. She was wearing a short-sleeved shirt, so I bumped into her smooth skin.

Afterwards, we didn't say anything for two minutes (she later told me she felt a jolt,

a tingling sensation in her arm). We only escaped the awkwardness when we reached the school store, where we needed to buy stationery

.

For the next semester, we didn't talk much. In class and at meals, we were always the boys from the same dorm,

while the girls walked and sat separately. There wasn't much interaction between the boys and girls, but I always

liked to secretly observe her in class; it seemed my mind was always on her. When we changed classrooms after class, I also liked to follow

behind the girls in her dorm, looking at their butts. Honestly, I think her buttocks are the most beautiful in the world:

not too big, not too small, not too flat, not too high—just right.

At night in the dorm, the boys liked to joke about the girls in our class. Since everyone knew we were

from the same hometown , it seemed natural that everyone assumed she was my girlfriend. Lying in bed at night, I would

masturbate almost every night, using her as the object of my fantasy. The bunk beds in college were much better than in high school, so masturbation

was relatively safe. Back then, everyone used mosquito nets, so sometimes I would lie inside the net without a blanket and masturbate,

often spraying semen onto the top of the net.

Over time, light yellow stains would appear. Later, I changed to holding toilet paper in one hand and masturbating with the other

, placing the paper on my glans when I was close to orgasm. Of course, sometimes it would still spray elsewhere. Anyway, the blankets and mosquito nets I brought to college

had many light yellow stains. Since everyone was in the same boat, my classmates understood

and no one was surprised. I'm not exaggerating when I say that if I let my hand go during masturbation, my semen could

spray more than 5 meters away. So now, when I see semen almost flowing out of my penis, I often miss that

ability. That's why I think men should get married between 20 and 25.

Because I didn't have many opportunities to see her during the school year, I looked forward to the holidays after two months of school, because

then we could go back together. After much agonizing waiting, winter break finally arrived. Since

there was only one bus a day to our county, we naturally bought tickets for the same bus. The night before we went back, I was excited

all night, imagining all sorts of schemes on the way, the goal of course being to take advantage of her, preferably to have sex (at the time,

I just thought it was a communist ideal).

When we got on the bus around 2 PM, I realized many of my assumptions were impossible. Wearing thick winter coats,

there was no chance of touching her private parts like during the start of the school year. So, I maintained a serious demeanor throughout the journey,

telling stories about the boys in our class and commenting on our teachers, without uttering a single inappropriate word.

I only occasionally touched her foot, which she didn't seem inclined to stomp away. By the time we reached the county town, it was nearly

8 PM, completely dark, and the buses to our township had long since stopped running. A strange

excitement welled up inside me; the darkness reminded me of a bed, of the alluring cornfields, and of the village women I

'd seen their white buttocks and the tuft of dark pubic hair.

I paid for a meal with her at a small restaurant, and then we started looking for a guesthouse. Many guesthouses at that time

were privately owned and rarely had guests. So, when we finally found a place to stay at a privately owned restaurant near the county power bureau

, we were the only two guests there. The family, surnamed Ma, consisted of

an elderly couple in their sixties. Their two sons both worked at the power supply bureau and lived in the nearby staff quarters. After

the children moved out, the vacant house was left unused, so they turned it into a guesthouse. The conditions were decent,

as their sons sometimes introduced guests from their workplaces to stay there.

Mrs. Ma assumed we were a young couple, so she gave us a room in the backyard without registering and brought

us a kettle of hot water. The room had two beds and cost 16 yuan in total. I felt embarrassed and wanted to explain, but after glancing

at her and seeing she didn't speak, I muttered a few words and remained silent. She was clearly embarrassed, but strangely

, she didn't explicitly object to only having one room (later, she said she hadn't thought about anything at the time,

but I don't know if that's true?).

After Mrs. Ma left, we fell into silence again, unsure of what to say. Fortunately, there was a copy of *

Reader's Digest* (now supposedly called *Reader*) on the table. She picked it up, flipped through it, and suddenly

opened to me, asking, "What do you think of this woman's demeanor?" I glanced at the picture and saw a rural girl sitting under

a tree reading a book, a basket beside her, and a cow perched on the tree. I pretended to be very serious

and studied her for a while before saying, "Not bad, but…" I wanted to say she was still far inferior to city girls,

but the words caught in my throat because she was also a rural girl, and it would upset her. She seemed

oblivious and asked, "But what?" On impulse, I blurted out, "But she doesn't have your

good looks."

Despite the blatant flattery, she seemed pleased, quickly glancing up at me before asking

with her head down , "Really?" Of course, I could only say, "Really!" She didn't say anything more, continuing to flip through the magazine; clearly,

her mind was in turmoil. I was also excited by my boldness, glancing sideways at her long hair and

chilblained hands. After a while, the scene in the cornfield began to replay in my mind,

imagining her white buttocks and her naked body.

In my excitement, I reached out and touched her hand, asking, "Why are your hands sore from the chilblains?" She looked up at me and

said it's like this every year. This time, she didn't look away. We stared at each other for less than a minute before she

seemed a little flustered and said to me, "Can you tell that one of my eyes is bigger than the other?" I felt encouraged

and quickly said no, and told her to look closely. As I spoke, I pulled her from the other bed to sit with me

. She looked up at me expectantly.

I started to panic under her gaze. In my panic, I pressed my lips to her cool face. She didn't move,

letting me kiss her. After a while, I moved my lips to hers. She didn't open them at first, but soon

she reacted, opening her mouth and sticking her tongue into mine. I started to hold her tightly with both hands, as if trying

to feel her breasts through her thick cotton clothes. In the midst of the kissing, my left hand unconsciously began

to touch her groin. Although it felt flat there, she still trembled quickly under my gentle touch

and suddenly squeezed her legs together. My hand, which was tightly squeezed, felt the soft, warm

sensation on her thighs.

She seemed to go limp and quickly slumped onto the bed. I followed suit, pulling out my left hand and again

stroking her flat, slightly protruding vulva through her pants. A moment later, I

slipped my hand under her coat and into her breasts, kneading them through her bra. She became even more aroused, her legs

unconsciously parting, no longer as tightly closed as before. I gently unbuttoned her coat and

pulled her bra out from her waistband. Then, I reached under her bra and, pressing my hand against her burning skin, touched her breasts and

nipples Suddenly, she bit my tongue, her body stiffening, a flush rising to her face…

I whispered in her ear, “May I see your naked body?” She didn’t speak, only

nodded . So I took my hand out and told her to undress. After taking off her coat, she gave me a mysterious smile,

unrolled the blankets, and, still in her pants, crawled into bed, saying, “Turn your face away.” I turned

my face away, and after a moment, she said

from under the covers, "Okay." I quickly turned back, slowly lifting a corner of the blanket, and saw that she was only wearing a bra. I clumsily pushed it off her breasts,

revealing her not-too-high but very alluring breasts.

I lovingly and gently stroked them. She stared at me, then took my right hand and placed it on her left nipple, asking

, "Is it beautiful?" I nodded, brought my lips to hers, and gently, softly licked her pink nipple, then

opened my mouth wide, wishing I could take her entire breast into my mouth at once. She trembled slightly.

Then she slowly guided me to kiss her right breast. After a while, I lifted the blanket again,

revealing her white shorts and slender thighs. I reached out to that mysterious place as if it were a work of art.

She voluntarily parted her legs, and I stroked her through her shorts for a while before slowly pulling them down. Sparse

pubic hair and plump flesh appeared. My penis was already erect, but I still controlled myself. I gently

parted her labia majora and carefully examined the clitoris I had been longing for. It wasn't as long as I had imagined, but it still trembled

when I touched it . I inserted a finger into that mysterious hole. The warm feeling inside

excited me even more. I tried my best to push it in, as if to know how deep it was. Finally, I touched

something , which was probably what people often call the entrance to the uterus.

I secretly observed her expression; it was complex, I couldn't tell if she was enjoying it or in pain. Her eyes,

not fully closed, seemed to be peeking at me. I whispered, "You're so beautiful, you're a true

work of art."

Suddenly, she reached her right hand towards my groin, grabbed my penis, and laughed, saying, "You're amazing,

so hard!" Stimulated, I quickly pulled down my pants, slipped into her bed, and made her lie

face down. I rubbed my penis and pubic hair against her round, soft buttocks, then turned her over and

slowly, deeply inserted my penis into her long-awaited hole. In my heart, I cried out,

"Ah! I've finally become a real man!" (To be continued, please read the first part: Cornfield)

Although I was prepared and afraid that her hymen would break and cause pain, I did not rush to

insert it. But the process told me that insertion was not difficult. Perhaps our foreplay was sufficient (of course, this is my

conclusion now, I did not understand these things at the time), or perhaps she was well prepared. In any case, although I used a little force at

the entrance , the swollen glans did not have much effort to squeeze in and slowly

reached the bottom. The feeling was absolutely indescribable. So, experienced gentlemen and ladies, when you read this,

you may have to close your eyes and recall your first time. You may then feel that

wonderful experience (of course, if you gave your first time to a prostitute, that is another matter).

For those without sexual experience, don't rush. You can leave that suspense for now. Remember:

when that day comes, don't let victory cloud your judgment. Focus intently on experiencing that

indescribable feeling: warm, tight, tingling, numbing... oh my god, I

can't describe it... Because penetration was relatively easy, I even wondered if she wasn't a virgin anymore.

But I was so magnanimous back then, thinking that even if she wasn't a virgin, I would still love her. However,

accidentally seeing two drops of blood on the sheets the next day still excited me, because for me, it was ultimately

better news. She later told me that she didn't experience the pleasure she had originally expected because she

had read some magazines and knew that it should feel like floating on air.

Of course, later on, we had orgasms almost every time we had sex, and 90% of the time we reached them simultaneously. This was because

I had learned some control techniques. I could

ejaculate and my penis would involuntarily expand inside her vagina a dozen times until

she was so overwhelmed that she bit and scratched me, hurting me.

That day, we barely slept a wink. First, she was worried about getting pregnant, which kept her anxious for

a long time. Later, I remembered a book I had read that said the seven days before and after a woman's period are considered

a safe period . She became excited, half-believing, because her period had only ended two days prior. Of course

, later events proved us right. This experience

brought , because we knew when to use a condom and when it was okay to go in naked.

Later that night, we barely slept, just excitedly chatting and caressing each other. She nestled

in my arms, tracing the lines of my chest with her fingers, and said, "You must be good to me from now on, don't lie to me."

Of course, I agreed without hesitation, promising, "Don't worry, I'll always love you." It was then that I realized

some of unbelievable words suddenly had a purpose. Of course, experience now tells me that expecting a man

to sleep with only one woman his whole life is as impossible as expecting him to give birth, but expecting him to love only

one woman his whole life is entirely believable. Because a man sleeping with one woman and loving one woman are two completely

different things .

So, looking back, I feel I didn't lie to her, because I always loved her and was always good to her, though

I inevitably cheated a few times. So, I'd like to take this opportunity to remind some ladies: don't let your husband or

boyfriend promise to only have sex with you; that's often unrealistic and meaningless. Relaxing your control over his

penis can sometimes win you his love.

The next day, around 5 a.m., we lingered for a while longer, because the time before our breakup

was getting closer. At that moment, we suddenly stopped liking the holiday and hoped school would start immediately so we

could see each other every day. But... in the end, we could only agree to meet again in the county town at 10 a.m.

on the second day of the Lunar New Year, to wait for each other at the entrance of this guesthouse, no matter what.

It was a long holiday; every minute felt like a month to me because there were no

telephones, let alone cell phones or internet access. So now I often wonder: is the internet and cell phones

a blessing or a curse for people in love?

Because they gain so much, and at the same time, they won't experience the excruciating torment we went through—

a kind of blissful torment that, in retrospect, is endlessly fascinating.

After school started, we pretended nothing had happened, but an impulsive act later

exposed our relationship. A classmate from Guangdong, who lived next door, was commenting on a girl in our class in our dorm

. He actually said her butt was beautiful. I didn't say anything, and another classmate jokingly asked, "How do you know? Have you

seen it ?" He said, "Yes!" The classmate then asked, "What proof do you have?" Who knew that guy would then say, "I really

saw her butt; she has a birthmark on her left butt."

I knew he was talking nonsense, but I still couldn't help but punch him and kick him out of our dorm. From then

on, it seemed like the whole class automatically avoided the boys' dorm, at least not when I was around, and dared not comment on her anymore.

The girls also seemed to sense our relationship. Under these circumstances, our relationship finally went from being secret to being

public . At that time, the school was very strict about dating, so it inevitably had a negative impact. Her grades

had been excellent for four years, and she could have been directly recommended for graduate school upon graduation, but her name wasn't on the list.

The teachers , but perhaps it was because we were dating.

This incident was a big blow to her. She didn't go to graduate school and had to go back to our registered residence area to find a job. She got a job at

the Bank of China in our county, working in the newly established foreign exchange management department; I got a job at the Agricultural

Bank , and in my second week after reporting for duty, I was assigned to a branch as the deputy director of the business department. At first,

I would make a trip to the county town once a week to see her. She shared a room with another girl from the bank in a guesthouse next to the county waterworks . That girl also had a boyfriend, supposedly

the son of the deputy secretary of the county party committee. So we didn't dare offend her. When I visited, she would come out, feeling awkward staying in the room

for fear of upsetting the other girl.

After a few weeks, it became her coming to the countryside to see me on Saturday afternoons. At the time, I had

a . The streets in my township were short, with farmland just a few hundred meters from east to west. The corn hadn't

been harvested yet, so we would go for walks after dinner, often ending up in the nearby cornfields. Whenever I saw cornfields, I thought of the white buttocks of farm women I had seen in cornfields

before , so I started to get excited. I started to trick her into going to the cornfield

to find some corn cobs to cook and eat, and she believed me, following me into the cornfield, to a place far from the roadside.

You might have this experience: when a man and woman are

in an environment where they feel somewhat isolated from the outside world, they are most likely to fall in love, such as in a closed bedroom or a closed car. So when we got to

the cornfield, when I grabbed her breasts from behind, she grabbed my penis. We

leaned in and kissed, caressed each other, and naturally loosened our belts. At that time, Zhang Yimou's "Red Sorghum" had just

won an award, and the memory of the sorghum field scenes in the movie drove us crazy.

I trampled down a few corn stalks, then took off my coat and spread it on the ground. I slowly took it off,

slowly touched, slowly kissed, kissing every inch of her body. Then, accompanied by the rustling of the wind, we fucked her

hard , thrusting, pumping, getting excited...

After that one time, she became addicted. Almost every time we made love, she liked to go to the cornfield. After we finished, she

would urinate there, finding it indescribably pleasurable. After the corn was harvested, there were hardly any tall

crops left in the fields, so we had to do it in our dormitory. Even then, she always liked me to describe

the environment of a cornfield first, and then we would pretend to be in a dense cornfield before slowly

starting everything... You could say the cornfield became our most beautiful place for making love.

I remember two weeks before the corn was about to be harvested, many corn leaves had already turned yellow, and the cornfield was starting

to thin out, so the concealment was not as good as before. The weather hadn't completely turned cold yet. When we came to a cornfield

again , took off our pants, and started doing it, we suddenly heard voices, seemingly

very close to us. A woman asked: "What day is your wife coming back next month?" A man said: "The 5th, I'm

not sure . Are you scared?" The woman laughed: "Am I scared, or are you scared?" The man said: "What am I scared of?

As long as you're not scared, I can do it to you a hundred times, and she won't know. Look here, it's so safe, the ground is our bed, the sky

is our blanket."

"You can do it without worry. Come on, turn your ass towards me, let me do it from behind again." The woman said,

"Go slower, last time you did it from behind, I felt uncomfortable for days." A moment later, we heard the slapping sound of

her stomach hitting her buttocks.

We were both too scared to speak, just quietly inserting our penises into her vaginas and thrusting silently.

However, this time, I noticed she was unusually wet, and I really enjoyed it. After the two people nearby left

, I imitated the man and said, "Come on, turn your ass towards me, let me do it from behind." She laughed and

whispered, "Be gentle, last time you did it from behind, I felt uncomfortable for days." We really got excited and

did it from behind again, and she had her first double orgasm. Later, when we reminisced and compared our experiences, she

surprisingly put this time in the "most memorable" category first. I expressed my understanding.

Life at the bank was monotonous, but we were very fulfilled. Because we

worked we hadn't been allocated housing after three years. The Agricultural Bank said that if we wanted a house, their rural branch could provide one,

but we didn't want to settle down in the countryside. Later, we thought it didn't matter, because all we lacked was that piece of paper (marriage certificate).

So we never went through with the marriage registration, and the people around us didn't mind, because they already accepted

our marriage. This continued for six years. Then one day, I suddenly thought about going abroad. A

college classmate came to our city on a business trip and stopped by to see us. He said that several people from our class had immigrated to

Canada and New Zealand. I then started to have the idea of going abroad…

In February 1995, we got our marriage certificate, obtained

passports , and submitted the relevant documents. In June, we received a notification from the New Zealand Immigration Service's Beijing office that our

immigration application had been approved.

We had mixed feelings at the time, because going abroad was a dream we hadn't dared to imagine for many years, and

now had suddenly become a reality. Of course, we were happy. But what would the future hold? Many relatives said it was

an isolated island, an agricultural country, and wouldn't be much better than China. These comments made us worried,

but since we'd already been approved, we figured we might as well treat it as a vacation and see for ourselves.

So we exchanged all our savings, plus gifts from relatives and friends, into US dollars, totaling over 6,000

. We then took unpaid leave from our jobs and flew to Auckland.

Auckland's airport wasn't large, but it was carpeted all over, giving us a VIP feeling.

Of course , we later learned that finding a room without carpet in New Zealand was probably

harder than finding one with carpet in China. The airport exit was a parking lot with thousands of cars. For some reason, I immediately fell in love with

the country, while she felt the opposite, finding it lacking in vibrancy and resembling rural China. Later, I

asked her if it was because New Zealand didn't have cornfields, and she said that seemed to be a factor.

We rented a house in the Newmarket area, and in this completely new environment, we

began a new round of passionate lovemaking, especially since we now had a marriage certificate, which felt more

secure . So when I was having sex with her, I would often yell, "I'm going to fuck you! It's my

right !" She would say, "Don't be so conceited. There's a crime of marital rape in New Zealand." When I mentioned rape, I would say, "I'm going to rape you.

" Sometimes she would pretend to resist and struggle. Once, I even deliberately tore open one of her already ripped underwear from the crotch

, pretending to be very violent. Then I held her hands down, spread her legs, and inserted my penis into her

vagina , thrusting rapidly. She slowly twisted beneath me, seemingly trying to break free from my control, but the two of us cooperated well.

Great, the force and technique were just right, making us both feel that this sex life was hard-won and

we cherished it . So now, sometimes when she has sexual desires, she often says: "Honey, rape me!"

Sometimes I say, "I don't have any criminal motive right now." Later I asked her, "You women are so strange, do you really like

being raped?" She said, "No, only when a woman is raped by a man she likes will she be happy!" I see!

A month later, we heard at the language class that we could apply for subsidies, so we quickly received the subsidies, and

life started to get back on track, without any worries. The more relaxed a person is,

the higher , so I feel that our sex life these past few months has been like when we first fell in love, we do it every day,

and we like to try different things. In New Zealand, there are some adult TV programs that you can only secretly watch in China after midnight

, and sometimes we like to wait until then, watching TV while we do it.

In short, as far as I remember, I once bought 100 condoms at once, and they

were used up in just over two months. Our room was often littered with condoms on the table and bed. Luckily, no friends came over,

so our sex life was relaxed and stress-free. Nearly a year later, she started university,

studying finance. She wasn't finding it too difficult, and that's when I realized how brilliant our choice of international finance

was . Her year of study ended quickly, and after graduation, she found

a job at a bank with an annual salary of 30,000 yuan. It wasn't much, but we were very content.

During holidays, we sometimes liked to drive around, leaving traces of our love everywhere—on remote meadows, in dense forests, beside

clear streams, and among fragrant flowers. I remember once in a park south of

Auckland , a young couple was secretly embracing in a grove of trees.

Their trousers had fallen down, and their ample buttocks were quite arousing. Perhaps they didn't notice us, or perhaps they

didn't care at all; in any case, they were having a great time. We walked slowly along a nearby path, secretly

watching. That's when I realized: watching others have sex live is completely different from watching porn. In

another part of that grove, we reenacted the same scene. The difference was that when we noticed someone approaching,

we quickly pulled up our trousers because we weren't comfortable exposing our buttocks to others.

In 2000, due to changes in New Zealand immigration policies, we decided to move from

New Zealand to Melbourne, Australia, and began preparing for our first child.

Unexpectedly, our first children were twins, a boy and a girl, born that November. Because of her

advanced suffered a lot during childbirth, experiencing significant bleeding. The doctor even asked me

what I would do if there were any complications. I thought to myself: "Is that even a question? As long as the green hills remain, there's always firewood." Of course

, I'd protect the adults! It was then that I realized how wonderful it is to truly love another person! It's

more important than being loved! Now, I often see many young Chinese students living together here.

They are happy, but sometimes I wonder, can these kids, attracted by sex,

ultimately transform that sexual attraction into genuine, unforgettable love? When a man can maintain

sexual interest in a woman for many years, I can say that they have developed a deeper level of love.

My wife took our child back to China last month to visit our parents, so I've had some

free time , which is why I've taken the time to write about our unforgettable experiences over the years. Before posting, I told her

about my plan on the phone. She initially objected, mainly because she was worried that some people from our hometown abroad might easily find out our background,

causing a bad influence. I told her it was fine! Because I didn't mention our names or specific places

, but everything comes from our real life. Truth is also a kind of beauty, and in the end, she agreed.

I know many readers will treat this article as erotic literature, which is to my surprise. Sex is

one of the most important things in everyone's life; there's no need to hide it. Everyone on this forum is

undoubtedly a normal person in their daily lives—not a pervert or rapist who enjoys sex. Normal people enjoy sex!

Otherwise, I wouldn't be posting my article here. My purpose is twofold: firstly, through reminiscing, I want

to find that wonderful feeling in moments of loneliness and add fun to my life; secondly, I hope that all of us readers

can have a happy and sweet sex life, because it requires communication, learning, and, most importantly, genuine

creation! As long as you and your partner are willing, and as long as it doesn't affect others, feel free to use your

imagination to create high-quality sex for yourselves. I sincerely hope you will share your

experiences with me and everyone else. Thank you!

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