[Knowing full well that the first time the red apricot blossomed over the wall] (Duoduo)

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 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 experienced as her, this was

incredibly .

The northern cold was no less biting in the southern winter. When Duoduo saw that handsome face,

a hint shyness crept onto her face 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- 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 comforted Duoduo, warmly and slowly seeped into

her ears, to her brain, and then to her limbs. Duoduo felt a wave of languor wash over her; perhaps

it was just a regional difference? Duoduo asked herself.

Outside the car window, under the streetlights, the leaves of the coral trees, with their tropical flair, swirled and danced in the wind, alongside a group of

people dressed in a style strikingly different from Duoduo's.

Sitting in the movie theater, her stomach ached. She pinched her hand, but the pain wouldn't subside.

She gasped weakly in the cold air, "Could you pinch my hand?"

"What? Stomach ache?" He pinched her hand, and then held Duoduo's hand tightly. "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 whispered this to herself in her heart, 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 this stroll was

out of fear a premonition deep within their hearts?

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 within 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. But now, she couldn't.

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 up to support her chin, and looked at him. She knew, with absolute certainty,

that she was now within this man's gaze, unable to escape his control. 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: "Chatting?"

Duoduo: "Yes, chatting."

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 grasped 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 on 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 very nervous and flustered.

Duoduo tried to struggle, but found he held 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.

Duoduo 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 only coming out of his mouth in a muffled, unconscious tone

.

Duo Duo sensed something was about to happen. As she helplessly leaned against his broad chest, she felt

something hard pressing against her lower body. Duo Duo tried to struggle, saying, "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 beneath him. He

squeezed her roughly, then began kissing her ears and neck. Duo Duo couldn't withstand 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 nightgown was

lifted and her body exposed to the cold night air, Duoduo weakly retreated, retreating further and further. Duoduo felt

terrified; her body had never even been exposed to her husband in the light or sunlight, the husband who had only been with her

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, forcefully caressing one of her breasts with one hand, kneading

her nipple. He simultaneously bit and sucked on her other breast. Duoduo's body gradually went numb and limp,

and she began to writhe uncontrollably in his arms. He then moved his hand down, reaching inside her panties, and began to caress

her buttocks. This intimacy was something Duoduo had never experienced before, and she felt an unprecedented fear and shyness.

Duoduo could only clamp her legs together, pleading "No,

no But when he felt the wetness of her lower body, he was already uncontrollably excited. Perhaps this was

part of what Duoduo had originally longed for? Duoduo couldn't figure it out.

He violently tore off her panties, and Duoduo was finally completely exposed to the man she deeply loved.

Duoduo sighed softly, so softly that only she could hear it. Duoduo knew that all of this was fate.

Overwhelmed with shame, Duoduo still tried to struggle, her legs clamped together in a feeble and futile attempt to evade him, though her lower body

was already aroused. He pressed his entire body down on her, finding her clamped legs an obstacle, so he

bent his right leg and forcefully inserted it between Duoduo's legs, spreading them apart.

Then, with a soft sound, he thrust himself deep into Duoduo's body.

Duoduo felt a wonderful, filling sensation in her most mysterious and intimate part of her body, shooting straight to her

brain . Duoduo felt being torn apart, swollen, stretched open, violated. As all the sensations surged forth,

as slight pain and pleasure swept over her simultaneously, Duoduo felt

as . The man before her, rising and falling on top of her, was her destiny.

He gently lifted his body, and with his movement, he moved from deep within Duoduo's body to

the entrance of her vagina. He rubbed against Duoduo's vaginal opening, making her feel a mix of soreness, tingling, numbness, and itching in her lower body.

Duoduo became even wetter, but she gritted her teeth and remained silent. From beginning to end, Duoduo didn't utter a

sound . This gave Duoduo a kind of rape-like pleasure. He increased his speed, and Duoduo felt his burning heat

, thick and swollen, pounding against her body, again and again.

The pressure of their genitals enveloped Duoduo. He thrust forcefully

deeper into Duoduo's body with each stroke, as if he wanted to tear her apart. Duoduo's lower body contracted and

convulsed in waves , feeling a part of his body filling her, and a feeling of happiness welled up in Duoduo's 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 welled up in Duoduo's eyes.

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

Duoduo felt dizzy, and a tear slid 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 sensation.

Only an endless, bittersweet joy and satisfaction, originating from one of the billions of cells in her body

, spreading to another, in an almost infinitesimally short time, affecting, permeating, contracting, and then

expanding , until a giant black hole swallowed all the cells."

In the eye of the tornado, the clear rotation, the ascent, and finally the dazzling, distorted

illusion of 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 anyone else's second.

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 searching for in this chaotic world. I recall Wang Xiaobo saying: "Ordinary people love wisdom;

ordinary people love the opposite sex; ordinary people like interesting things.

" Wang Xiaobo is unique, and his stature is unparalleled. However, ordinary people like you and me still have the right to share

the same pursuits. Because there is no absolute distinction between the wise and the foolish, I suffer for this pursuit. Your

appearance makes this suffering possible. Like a solitary dancer finding a

harmonious partner—how delightful! This is the ultimate!

I don't want to describe the ultimate in sex; I want to tell you that the sex you bring me is so

far removed from the hustle and bustle, 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 and said: "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 Beat Generation? This question has been swirling in Duoduo's mind,

like a beautiful slogan that won't go away, just like the song says.

But why think about what kind of generation we belong to? Is such thinking

a necessity ? Or will it lead to a promotion? Or a raise? Or could she trade it for some charcoal? Or a bottle of Dior

perfume? This question was like a venomous snake coiled around Duoduo's mind,

hissing , making her increasingly depressed.

Duoduo was an artist who spent countless hours depicting her own rich and desolate life. The

fleeting splendor and subsequent desolation after the painting was Duoduo's most addictive enjoyment. Black and white, blue and

green, ink and pastel, exotic styles and Song and Ming landscapes—in the paintings created by her delicate hands, time seemed to come and go

with carefree ease .

Duoduo loved to imitate Li Kuchan's distant gaze; 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.

He held Duo Duo's delicate little hand, always somewhat amazed. A thirty-year-old woman's hand could be

so smooth and supple, just like her incredibly elastic skin. Her virginal performance in bed and

her body that ignited at the slightest touch made him sigh; 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. Duo Duo, at this moment, was that little mermaid, dancing with a bittersweet joy under his

gaze .

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

He was the pipa player, Miao Fantian, and she was the trembling string beneath his fingers.

His lips, warm and powerful, suckled at her—lips, ears, the tiny pink buds on her chest. She

trembled uncontrollably, the moonlight streaming through the curtains, so passionately illuminating their intertwined bodies.

Duo Duo didn't know if it was her own unique physical characteristics or his special abilities, but in any case, during his sustained or

short sessions, Duo Duo always experienced multiple orgasms. Those sensations that most women in the world couldn't experience

played out in her body time and again, each different. Like now, this was Duo Duo's third orgasm, and he still

gritted his teeth, relentlessly thrusting, ignoring Duo Duo's desperate pleas.

"Spare me..."

"No, stop..."

"Let me catch my breath..."

From then on, Duo Duo's behavior in bed became his frequent threats: "I'll make you scream all over the bed..."

Like now, his breath still lingered within Duo Duo, as if floating in warm seawater,

warm and languid. She didn't want to move at all, the smell of tobacco emanating from him beside her.

Duo Duo felt that when he made love to her, it was as if he were using her as a canvas, painting on her,

frantically applying all the colors to her body, pouring them into her mind, making Duo Duo's body burn,

her cells burn, the seasons change and cycle, making it difficult to breathe and even harder to see and hear. Sex, in his writing, was so

bizarre, making Duo Duo feel like crying out loud.

Duo Duo knew that she was the one he loved, the one he could hug and chat with around the fireplace on winter nights

; the one whose legs could intertwine with his, the warm, smooth touch between their legs; the

woman who liked to pat his back with her idle little hands as she watched him fall into a deep sleep; the woman who understood his writing, waiting for his

words like mining a mountain; the woman who had boundless respect and trust for him; a

woman whose thoughts and souls were so close. And the body was another form of the soul's depths. Yet the sex he gave her was so wonderfully

bizarre.

So Duo Duo thought, let me be confused, let me collapse.

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 physical pleasure. Therefore, Li Yinhe said that sex is a good thing, but one-night stands where "we part ways after dawn"

are 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 thinks about is nothing more than the pleasures of intercourse with him. Write down your brilliant experiences,

before the years dry up, to embellish every moment.

Seven or eight years ago, 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 turmoil, leaving no pure land.

Today, one-night stands and passionate videos are as common as the swallows that once graced the halls of noble families, heard of

from every corner of the streets .

Duoduo remains unmoved by these changes in the world. 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 imposed upon her... Her sexuality became that rose she couldn't live without, that

she couldn't .

The year Duoduo met him, online dating wasn't very common. They met online, fell in love, and loved cautiously,

as if walking on thin ice. Then they went offline, into real life. He kept her captive, using a large art studio and

stacks of Xuan paper to keep her under his watchful eye.

He wasn't a man with much 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 swiftly soaring through the sky. Who says a bird doesn't leave a trace when it flies across the sky? That trace had already

etched a long line across Duoduo's body . His body, like mountains, basins, and oceans, drew a beautiful arc.

Duo Duo felt that his organ was definitely the most suitable one for her in the world.

It had nothing to do with hardness, length, girth, explosive power, or stamina; Duo Duo only knew that he must have been created by God

specifically to be paired with her when He created humans.

Sometimes, he would hold Duo Duo and show her the adult videos stored on his laptop, but Duo Duo was always too shy

to listen or watch.

Yes, Duo Duo didn't understand sexual techniques or have any sexual experience. According to him, she belonged to the kind of woman with very low

sexual skills was nearly extinct in this open era. But Duo Duo knew that she and he

didn't need any fancy techniques, not even the moment he slipped into her body, not even when he ejaculated all his heat...

Even after the passion subsided, when Duoduo desperately begged him to take a break, the moment he remained still on top of her was indescribably

beautiful . All she knew was that her heart was soaring in a blissful decadence.

Sex was a series of freefalls

. Duoduo opened the title page of Jean-Christophe's book, where the bold black letters read, "Dedicated to

all the suffering, struggling, and victorious free souls of the world." Will free souls always prevail? If our souls are

free, yet still imprisoned within our bodies, how can an imprisoned soul be considered free

? He moved on top of Duoduo,

and she felt his organs rushing towards her private parts at an incredible speed. His desire was like a bottomless cup, inexhaustible,

swirling and rising before her eyes, a dazzling spectacle. As she gasped for breath, he remained single-mindedly focused on devouring her.

Disheveled long hair, a pair of intertwined bodies on the snow-white sheets, his strength, her shyness, their

faces contorted with happiness, their moans rising and falling, sometimes sharp, sometimes low, sometimes hoarse and tender. Duoduo had never known that

her of the pentatonic scale, perhaps a melody of "High Mountains and Flowing Water"?

Perhaps a melody of "Spring River Flower Moon Night"? "Whose boatman is out tonight, why yearn for love in the moonlit tower

?" It's right before her eyes, it's 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 relieve the itchy, numb, and aching feeling in her heart, like a thousand ants gnawing at her. Finally, a warm current

spread from her Baihui point (crown of the head) throughout her body. Duoduo knew that the sheet beneath her was soaked again; it was her own fluid, not his. He

was still aroused.

Duoduo felt like a flower, welcoming the first rays of sunlight in the morning, its petals

unfolding one by one with a crisp, light sound, each petal stretching out in the overwhelming sunlight. He was still striving, the pleasure that was

slowly him was once again stirred up and gathered within him. Then, Duoduo felt like

a small snowflake on the peak of a snow-capped mountain, melting into a tiny water droplet under the sunlight, falling from the place closest to the sky,

falling at extreme speed, the thrill of free fall, that wonderful feeling.

Duoduo had been with him for three years, three years—a very long time. During those three years, he fulfilled

all of Duoduo's material, physical, and spiritual needs: Huizhou ink , Huzhou brushes, Xuan paper,

and Duan inkstones. He would discuss Hawking's *The World of the Membrane* with her, write a few lines of the slender gold script together, like "Rouge Tears,

Leaving Tears," and guide her hand using the Meade Maxtorf-Gesegrain 7-inch LX

200GPS-SMT telescope to see Sirius, the

youngest —a star with a brightness of 1.2, emitting a beautiful, deep blue light.

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 an eventual 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 mean a permanent separation.

The locked door puzzled him, but after turning on all the lights and failing to reach her by phone,

he noticed the familiar handwriting on the light blue peach blossom note on the coffee table:

"My love:

Do you know? When you first smiled at me, how innocent and pure your smile was, so bright and sunny.

Your open palms held anticipation, like flowers blooming at midnight, a carefully held, tender

secret . From that moment on, I fell in love with you.

Thank you so much. You showed me 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 camera 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 tears to our eyes, it

stubbornly and relentlessly 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 but 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 definitely ask me why.

Do you know? I often find myself suddenly thinking of another person, a woman who always seemed ethereal, possessing

unparalleled lightness and agility, her image forever looming between us. In my heart, her image is like

a ghost, both real and elusive, preventing me from fully enjoying every moment we spend together.

Although our conversations always flow freely and harmoniously, no matter how unrestrained

our joy and uninhibited our chatter, we always carefully avoid the topic of her. Perhaps, maybe

, perhaps… 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" only hurts her more deeply.

Whether she knows it or not, I have fundamentally hurt her and destroyed her happiness.

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

My love, I must leave you. I know this will inevitably hurt you, but I am

a woman too. I can almost hear the sound of her heart breaking, so soft, yet so painful.

Do you understand my feelings? I feel the same pain as her.

So, I have no choice but to leave. I hope time will cool this indefinable,

inexplicable feeling between us. Perhaps this is unfair to you. But at the same time, is it fair to myself

? I simply cannot bear to be so cruel as to make another woman

weep.

Everyone in this world brushes past true love, everyone ignores

true love in their self-righteous obsession. Those at the center of the situation 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 will it remain forever in my heart?

No one can tell me what I should do to make the best ending for our love.

Ending this love brings such guilt.

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

He's 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 the guilt of

infatuation makes us choose not to face reality.

Knowing that love endures as long as the body remains, I gaze sadly at the river's edge, listening to the sound of the 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 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 truly

cannot bear to part with. Stop thinking, let's go…

Came, went, gone, far away, bloomed, withered.

Everything and everything about me.

Don't forget, my life, this scene of love in my life, 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 can

patiently read through the entire foreword.

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? Do not be poor and lowly for a long time, and suffer the hardships of the carriage 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 makeup, her slender hands. Once

a courtesan, now a prodigal son's wife. The prodigal son has gone and will not return, leaving me alone in an 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 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 sexuality; she wrote about the endless,

unforgettable sexual experiences he brought her.

The pleasures of this world are inherently concrete; danger plus desire equals an empty bed and two bodies,

beautiful or ugly, tall or short, fat or thin.

He held Duoduo in his arms, calling her name repeatedly: "Duoduo, Duoduo," dozens of times in a row, the

urgency in his calls giving Duoduo a sense of secure joy.

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

"Why should I listen? I'll make you use up all your energy so you can eat more later. Hehe

..."

He pressed Duoduo onto the bed without hesitation. Duoduo felt his burning breath, his burning body temperature,

and the erect, strong, and hard erection of his lower body. He was always so eager, always giving Duoduo a kind of unexpected happiness.

Duoduo could feel her face burning in the darkness, as if a raging fire was rising from her earlobes to her earlobes.

Her heart was pounding rapidly, as if everything in the world had vanished, leaving only the beloved before her and his kisses

that landed on , inch by inch. Duoduo, who could melt with just a little teasing, felt

desire rushing from the deepest part of her lower body to every part of her body. She couldn't help but press

and rub her body against his without any gap.

Her clothes were taken off layer by layer, less and less. Duoduo knew that at this moment, her eyes

were filled with , hazy like the light of a tipsy star. He pressed down on Duoduo, their bodies touching without any barriers, gently and very

smoothly sliding into the depths of Duoduo's body.

The thrusting, continuous, powerful, endless—Duoduo remembered that time. As the bell tolled,

he entered her body. Then, just as she was about to faint, she heard the bell ring again. She

couldn't hold back any longer and pushed him away. "

It's been an hour! Please, have mercy on me!" This push didn't move him. He accelerated, accelerated again,

a burning heat striking her core. 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, then you can understand the feeling I'm

experiencing .

" Sex is like a meeting of kindred spirits, as described in the Analects: "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—a serendipitous encounter

.

All we have is this aging body, filled with desire, hence suffering; it will consume,

it will perish, it will tire, it will become weary; and today's beauty will be tomorrow's skull. So why, why not enjoy

it? Let us revel in the ecstasy of life, unable to contain ourselves.

He pulled Duoduo into his arms, pressing her buttocks against his lower body with both hands. Instantly,

Duoduo felt as if a thousand tiny ants were crawling all over her body—an unbearable itch. Duoduo couldn't help but

let out a sweet moan through her nose.

Reaching out her limp hands, Duoduo wrapped her arms around his neck, as if she were

encircling his entire soul, never to let go. Her slender, soft, and elastic waist swayed gently, the subtle friction between the

swaying and his hardness creating

a masochistic pleasure, like the unquenchable thirst of a few drops of water when one is 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 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 sleep sweetly with your wife. When you wake up, we will have grown old together..."

His steps became more and more unsteady, his movements more and more unsteady, his breathing became heavy. Duoduo knew

he was almost there, and her honey water had already dripped onto 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, a stunning climax, a shimmering expanse

spreading between him and Duoduo...

Sex, how can it be just a flesh cushion? King Xuan said to Mencius: I have an illness, I am fond of lust.

An ancient saying goes, the pleasure of the boudoir is even greater than painting eyebrows.

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

That jasmine, what dead machine, said to Linton: Planting bucket, four mulberry fastest Luo Di silk sprinkle Zi Si Qing?

Linton said, left cancer! Jasmine dead machine asked again: Is there a faster Luo Di? Zhong Tong pondered for a long while, took a deep drag

on his cigar, and said, "Disaster!

The opening of *The Carnal Prayer Mat* is a poem like this: Black hair is hard to keep, rosy cheeks are easily faded, life is not like a pine tree. Fame fades

, like fallen flowers in the wind. Regret kills the joy of youth, the pleasure quarters banish the old man. Princes and nobles, listening to songs of gold thread,

should love the fragrant medicine early. The true pleasure in the world, after all, is in the bedroom. It's not like the realm of glory, where joy begins and sorrow ends. Enjoyment

every morning , where swallows sleep soundly, afraid of the morning bell. Open your eyes and see the universe, a grand erotic palace.

" However, Li Yu aptly tells us: the strength of the author of this novel lies precisely in this. May all

readers of the world buy it and read it as history, not as a novel. Wherever you encounter the word "reader," it is either a sharp criticism or

a word of enlightenment; you must pay attention and understand. The descriptions of sexual intercourse and the depictions of bedroom pleasures are not without bordering on obscenity.

To make people understand the outcome and learn a lesson, one must see the ending. Otherwise, it's like an olive book, leaving a lingering aftertaste. If

it's sour and astringent at first, people won't chew it. My descriptive words are like wrapping an olive in jujube flesh, guiding them

to savor the aftertaste without getting tired of it.

Wei Yangsheng had relations with countless women, but it was all just physical pleasure. He relied on a donkey-like object for these encounters, and his

final fate was so tragic.

Hongxing writes these sex blogs not to gain fame like Mu Zimei through sex, nor to earn a few coins through writing about her body like

Zhuying . Hongxing writes simply to record Duoduo's experiences

, so that in the future, she can read them carefully under the lamp and recall how she plunged headlong into his whirlpool of love,

never look back.

I also want to tell my friends that some things are actually quite different from what we imagine.

The fulfillment has nothing to do with organs, techniques, duration, foreplay,

frequency, procedures, the beauty of undressing, or

the need for . The climax and beauty of sex lie solely in the presence of love. "

Duoduo, your calves are so beautiful! That woman's calves are too thick. Unlike yours, with such smooth lines,

a little more and they'd be too thick, a little 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. A shiver ran through him. "

Look, look! The hair on this leg and this arm is all standing on end! Ugh, you're teasing me again."

"Duoduo, do you know?" "Men will really like your sensitivity, because they can

arouse you effortlessly and make love with you smoothly and effortlessly, giving you

multiple orgasms in one session. That's a man's pride, you know?"

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

ever .

Duo Duo didn't understand. She had no experience with men and always felt they were

unpredictable . But to Duo Duo, he was always right. He was her everything; her paradise.

She felt that wherever he was, that was paradise, happiness as unbelievable as walking on clouds.

He was the book beside her pillow, reading him a joy and satisfaction; he was the strong

arm , making her dreams so peaceful; he was the wings 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 magical world, a fragrant journey.

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 . 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 , 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 , 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. Duo Duo knew it was still a long way off, but this wave of dizziness...

A wave of dizziness followed. The feeling was good, but after a while, it became unbearable. Yet, it was always

the same ; Duoduo knew she couldn't escape it. She remembered one time when they made love four times in one day, and

it took Duoduo almost half a month to recover.

"But you know, this is all your fault," he said. "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 overcame it, sat up, and smoked. The embers flickered. Duoduo took a shower and, exhausted

, fell asleep first. 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 was not merely 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. 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, especially McDonald's. She would

often eat three or four in one go. Sometimes, even late at night, if she wanted an ice cream cone

, she would ignore the fact that it was late and the streets were deserted, and insist 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 summer, Duoduo's skin was always cool and refreshing to the touch. Her

close girlfriends often liked to press their skin against hers in the summer, ostensibly to cool themselves.

He always laughed when he saw Duoduo wearing pants or a skirt. Duoduo's waist was only 1.7 feet, and she wore

size 26 pants. So, whenever he saw her in pants or a skirt, her hips looked round and

beautiful, but her exaggeratedly wide waist looked ridiculously empty. At these times, Duoduo would stomp her legs in

anger . His laughter, however, was like golden ears of wheat growing vigorously in the sunlight. He especially loved seeing Duoduo

in wide-leg pants, because her slender waist extended downwards, forming a vase shape,

with a beautiful curve above her hips, delicate and soft like blue and white porcelain, and a warm, smooth feel to the touch. When he placed his hand on

Duoduo's waist, the softness made him reluctant to remove his hand.

Duo Duo wasn't particularly beautiful, except for her large, captivating eyes, which, when squinted, exuded endless allure.

However, Duo Duo's most sensual moment, amidst her clear and serene demeanor, was in bed. She wasn't fat, and possessed

a pair of remarkably long, shapely legs. But because of her small frame, he always said that lying on top of her

was like lying on a soft, yielding blanket.

Duo Duo was also timid and shy; many of the sexual positions were unfamiliar to her, and she believed that only missionaries could offer

such opportunities. She was always shy and hesitant about intimacy, refusing to let him do anything. Yet, Duo Duo

revolved around him, readily yielding to all his actions, letting him take advantage of her, letting him tenderly caress her. But

after their intimacy, she would feel overwhelming shame, burying her head in his chest, in his broad, warm face,

refusing to lift it. It wasn't until nearly a year of his "training" that she slowly adapted to this intimate bond. But every time

he called out, "Duoduo, come on, let's bathe together," Duoduo would refuse, dodging and hiding, refusing

to bathe with him no matter what.

The rushing water stopped, and Duoduo came out barefoot, wearing only a very delicately embroidered red bodice.

He came over and gently gathered a strand of her black hair that was still damp on her back. With just

this ambiguous gesture, Duoduo felt that her hair so sensitively transmitted the surging passion in his body

to every part of her body. His hands covered Duoduo's breasts like suction cups, his

warm Duoduo

's body, and then to Duoduo's private parts. At the entrance, Duoduo felt her body twitching, one after

another, and desire began to spread.

He turned the car around and his lips met hers. A faint scent of tobacco wafted over,

like an aphrodisiac. The two bottles of Tsingtao beer he had just drunk seemed to transform into a sweet,

fruity , captivating Duoduo and stirring 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 clever and quick-witted Duoduo gone? Was she the passionate and frenzied

Duoduo she was now?

Duoduo felt like a dazzling firework, its splendor fading, waiting for the

day when, at the end of the dimly lit, cool night, she would slowly turn around, casting a desolate glance, and from then on, her spring dreams would vanish like fleeting clouds,

her youthful beauty leaving no trace. Scattered like rose petals, only a tear, unable to be held back, warmed Duoduo's secret, warmed

his genitals, and led to another night of revelry.

In this materialistic world, love has become like a supermarket shelf display, thin and pale. It only

intensifies and solidifies, falling and ecstatic. Duoduo met him, 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. In Duoduo's bedroom, there was a large 2.5 x 2.5 meter bed,

with layers of curtains in front of it. The outermost layer was covered with a thick velvet embroidered with a double-diamond pattern, and the second layer had a bohemian feel.

Soft, knitted curtains, deep inside, lay a sari—an Indian sari—so thin that the skin was visible. Hiding inside,

with all the curtains drawn, the world darkened, becoming a self-contained world, oblivious to the changing seasons outside the bed. Lifting

one curtain revealed yet 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 layers of curtains, weakly

clawing ; the arc of that hand spoke of ultimate bliss.

Opposite the bed was a large mirror, as wide as the wall, sloping upwards to the ceiling. A leg, a slender

and long leg, stretched taut from the curtains, trembling, frozen in the mirror.

Duoduo stood before the mirror, scrutinizing herself. Except for her delicate, mischievous eyes, she

was dissatisfied with herself.

Straight, glossy 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 his fingers, and released it, the black hair falling in strands…

In the mirror, his left shoulder was slightly red, the marks of his stubble clinging to Duoduo's chocolate-colored

skin. With a snap, the light went out, filling the room with moonlight. Ah, it was a full moon night, the moonlight as bright as Duoduo's

thoughts. Through the north-facing window, the moonlight illuminated the blooming flowers of spring.

With a gentle tug, the towel wrapped around Duoduo fell to her feet, her whole body bathed in moonlight. Her eyebrows,

her eyes, her shoulders, the marks of her stubble, her delicate breasts, her slender waist… He clasped his hands together

, 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 Duoduo through life and death, never to be separated? Was it still

a promise ?

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

Their eyes met in the reflection, and instantly, the mirror image was vibrant and beautiful.

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 to be intimate

. Now, a year later, with only a faint halo remaining, Duoduo still felt too shy about such uninhibited intimacy

. He smiled wickedly at Duoduo in the mirror, her two pink nipples

standing firm and proud.

Duoduo involuntarily straightened up and stepped down. In the mirror, the gap between her legs was invisible, and the

dark grew lush in the moonlight, mysterious and sensual.

Suddenly, he tightened his arms, encircling Duoduo's waist, burying his face in her left shoulder, tilting his head back slightly,

biting her earlobe, his tongue darting out like a snake's fork, licking it, his hard and hot penis pressing against her

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 obediently and wildly

to his ever-surging passion. In his memory, he and Duoduo had never had a failed sexual experience.

A hand roughly reached between Duoduo's legs, wet and warm, a familiar yet ever-fresh place and

feeling. Having just drunk a bottle of red wine, he could no longer hold back, pressing Duoduo's upper body forward and downward.

Duoduo staggered, her body leaning forward, her hands hurriedly pressing against the mirror.

He gripped his own erect penis, which stood glaringly, while the other hand parted Duoduo's buttocks, revealing the mysterious entrance in

the moonlight —a deadly, mysterious, and lustful entrance…

“I’ve come, my spoils, my little slave…”

“Squeak…”

The sound , like the sound of a traveler accidentally stepping into mud and pulling their foot out, lingering and tender. Duoduo saw

her features magnified exaggeratedly 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 rhythm of his penis entering and exiting, watching Duoduo’s panicked expression, her suffocating gaze, her bewildered eyes.

In the mirror, a drop of love fluid dripped from between Duoduo's legs, then another. The droplet shimmered in the moonlight, silent

yet incredibly stimulating. Duoduo convulsed weakly, a faint scent of bodily fluids

filling 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 as she saw raindrops suddenly spraying onto her back in the mirror.

The moonlight reflected from the rain burned into her eyes…

Sex, that passionate affair. God is dead, my heart reigns.

In Duoduo's heart, there was no longer any God, no such belief. The only thing that remained 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 a water town in Jiangnan. 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, yellowed by 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, and the house had a complete water supply system.

Inside, this well was merely a place for Duoduo to reflect her reflection in the water, to see the majestic figure behind her graceful form.

When the pomegranate blossoms faded, fallen petals littered the ground, a few delicate ones drifting and swirling 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 hinted at their former exquisite beauty. There were 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 were no tall buildings nearby, so the room was well-lit and didn't feel desolate, melancholic, or lonely. Behind the three rooms

was a small kitchen and a bathroom converted from a storage room. Duoduo said he had 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 spring breeze that suddenly turned the banks of the Yangtze River green overnight, like the kite's

sweet cry awakening spring. Duo Duo's heart was moist and soft, overflowing with all the thoughts of him.

The sound of footsteps startled her; like a nimble cat, she pricked up her ears and 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 could

n'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 burning,

and her private parts seemed to be already wet. Duoduo was

no longer .

Couples always have some kind of slang, like secret codes, that only the two of them understand. For example, "adding

to the bet" was a code between him and her. When they were separated, far apart, he would miss her and murmur her name on the phone

, telling Duoduo that he missed her. When he missed her body, he would say, "Duoduo, I miss you, very much

so.

" "Ah..." With a start, Duoduo found herself being picked up by him and carried to the bedroom. She buried her burning

face in his chest, and couldn't help but look up at his bright, sparkling eyes. Duoduo

sighed , "This is my god!" He wasn't much taller than Duoduo, but his figure

always seemed imposing and majestic to her. His strong arms carried her to the bedroom effortlessly, making

her feel safe and comfortable.

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 look, which seemed quite convincing.

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

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

They quickly stripped him naked, and Duoduo saw his manhood proudly erect, pointing straight to

the sky .

Everyone says male organs come in all sizes, from enormous to tiny, but Duoduo never had the chance to know whether his

was bigger or smaller in comparison. His penis was the first

man , and the ethereal and aloof Duoduo dared not and did not want to look at related pictures on pornographic websites.

Therefore, for Duoduo, 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 .

She saw the weariness deep in his eyes, and she also saw the flame of desire within them. Duoduo broke free from his

hand, got up, went to the living room, brewed a cup of his favorite fragrant tea, returned to the bedroom, placed it within his reach on the bedside table,

took four pillows, and arranged them at a comfortable angle. She let him lean against her.

Duoduo gently took off her clothes, leaving only a small red bodice and a pair of panties embroidered with beautiful

roses.

He leaned comfortably against the bedside, wondering what his woman was up to today. Sometimes, Duoduo

could surprise him.

She reached out and dimmed the light, leaving only the bedside lamp casting a soft, dim orange glow. Duoduo

decided not to let her man, returning home weary from his journey, feel like he'd fought a hard battle. She gently leaned down in front of him;

his gaze could see a sliver of cleavage along his stomach, making his breathing quicken. Duoduo gently bit

his earlobe, her tongue licking the small earlobe, then moving down his neck,

sucking on his Adam's apple, feeling the pleasure of it moving up and down as he swallowed.

He'd recently been bodybuilding, his already muscular pectoral muscles even more defined. She gently bit his small

nipple , looking up to see the desire in his eyes deepening, a hint of amused curiosity in them, as if to say:

What does my Duoduo, whose kissing and lovemaking skills are so low, want to do today?

Duoduo smiled, her big eyes narrowing into slits: "Today, I won't let you get tired. Usually, you

're the one doing all the work, giving me the most comfortable, happy, and blissful feeling. Today, let's switch roles!" Duoduo finished speaking.

She lowered her head and bit his pectoral muscle hard: "Hehe, sir, you could wear an F-cup now."

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

On his abdomen, Duoduo pouted her lips and made circular motions around his navel, circling from small circles to large ones.

A slightly itchy, slightly hot, slightly warm sensation attacked his groin.

Her tongue pressed against his navel, softening and gently circling, hardening, pressing again, then releasing. Duoduo's small hand

reached for his manhood, gently grasping his scrotum. Duoduo had applied essential oil to her hand, and with this grasp,

the scrotum slipped from her grasp. Duoduo laughed; inexperienced, she would correct her technique next time.

Duoduo 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 Duoduo's hand. Holding it, she could

feel the pulsating veins, as if blood was constantly rushing to the glans, a sustained, intense

stimulation on 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 melting,

dripping ice cream.

She gently rubbed her nose against his glans. Duoduo felt a spasm in her lower body, a urge to

urinate Duoduo was puzzled; they hadn't even started intercourse, yet contact with his genitals was enough to trigger

an orgasm? A slight ache and pain crept into Duoduo's secret place. Duoduo felt she needed to do something to

quell the thirst.

Her tongue gently licked the crevice between his thighs and genitals, moving from bottom to top. His breathing grew

heavier and more rapid. He gently lifted his hips towards Duoduo's lips, meeting

the rise and fall of her head. There was some restlessness, a restlessness tinged with desire.

As Duoduo's tongue expanded its range, he involuntarily spread his legs wider, gently stroking his

pubic hair. Duoduo's tongue reached to his anus. There was no odor. He was always a clean man.

Although he had a strong body odor, his lower body was so clean. Duoduo felt his slight trembling, 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, gently taking his penis into

her mouth 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 slit on the glans. A slightly salty liquid immediately flooded her tongue,

odorless, a little salty and sour. Duo Duo used every cell in her mouth to savor the deliciousness before her,

perhaps also savoring the feeling of loving him! Because she loved him, everything about him was good.

His genitals seemed to possess a life of their own, bouncing and

slapping Duoduo shuddered, and a little fluid welled up from her lower body. Duoduo realized

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, unable to resist, he lifted his body and thrust deep into her throat,

as if squeezing Duoduo's soul into the depths of her mind.

Duoduo's saliva production increased dramatically. Duoduo wanted to scream, to shout, to laugh, to burst into laughter, yet she also wished that he would

remain quietly in her mouth, letting the burning desire in her throat endlessly entwine. Sweet pleasure spread from

her mouth all the way to her lower abdomen.

Accelerating, 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, and accumulating again.

Would his hot, condensed milk-like semen finally, like a long-awaited summer rain, with primal unbridled force, impact Duoduo's throat and tongue, impacting

the depths of Duoduo's soul?

Duoduo waited nervously and excitedly. Oral sex, this romantic affair,

echoed continuously in the unpredictable moans, finally blooming into a pure red flower like the pomegranate blossoms in front of the house!

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[Knowing full well that the first time the red apricot blossomed over the wall] (Duoduo)

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