[Women's Orgasm Confessions] ("Humans" are connected by sexual organs)

Climax Confession:

"Humans" are connected by sexual organs

------------ Mu Zimei's Sex Diary

"Boring" After graduating from university, I've never worked, so I have a very pure non-mainstream temperament. He

has long hair and likes to dress in a slightly hip-hop, heavy metal style, walking like a street dancer. And I, I

also like street-style, fashionable, edgy clothes. We knew we were on the same wavelength the moment we met.

We bought a bottle of Coke, a bottle of beer, and a bottle of Mengniu pure milk. We checked in at the front desk and went into the elevator.

He hugged me and said, "Look, as soon as we hug, the room card flashed, and the timer started." Hehe, he

was just kidding .

The corridor of the XX building's guest rooms is the old and dark kind. We walked arm in arm, like we were parading through the streets,

not even realizing we'd gone too far. The receptionist said, "Look, it's the room right behind you." Then, she opened the door for us, turned on

the air conditioning, and we hurried off.

I said, "Booking a room isn't romantic. At your place or mine, we can make love while listening to death music." He said, "No,

a hotel room helps us concentrate."

I threw myself onto the bed, and he knelt beside it, pressing his body against mine, fully clothed, in silence.

That "pressing" felt like quietly burying our desires within each other, and I instantly liked his

way of expressing himself.

After a moment, he said, "Let's take a shower." So we took off our clothes. Hot water poured down from above

, and we embraced. In the mirror beside us, there were clear profiles of a slightly dark-skinned man's naked body and

a slightly lighter-skinned woman's naked body, perfectly aligned. I lifted my buttocks, adding curves to the scene… In this shabby

room, the mirror was the most sensual thing.

Then, we lay on the bed together, covered by a thin white sheet. He continued to hold me, breathing softly,

his hand intentionally or unintentionally brushing against my clitoris. His penis was already quite full, just like my desire, but he said,

"Don't rush, don't rush." He wouldn't let me touch his penis, saying, "Just holding me is enough." He even pulled

the white sheet over our heads, and we looked at each other, quietly savoring the pleasure and privacy of abandoning the outside world.

First, we created a "field"—a romantic, beautiful one. As his penis slowly calmed down,

he began to caress me extensively. It's a human relationship; this kind of man easily creates a cinematic

atmosphere .

He licked my neck, nipples, waist, and inner thighs, lightly and gently. I carefully felt it, but

occasionally I thought, "What if you don't get hard again?" He said it wouldn't. When his tongue came out, long

and curled, it was captivating. My pleasure was like a small boat adrift on the sea, with small waves, small thrills, and

some unknown mystery…

When he inserted his fingers into my vagina, I trembled, my body spasming slightly. But, I endured it,

I endured it ; we had plenty of time, we wanted to fill it to the brim.

Then, he changed his approach. He straightened my bent legs, straightened my slightly turned body

, and removed my hands from his shoulders, laying them flat. Then, he pressed my hands down on either side of my body,

kissed my breasts, and wouldn't let me bend any part of my body. His expression became serious, like staring at

an unfinished still life painting, scrutinizing and pondering. I suddenly felt very nervous, imagining that he might kill me.

So when his hands encircled and approached my neck, I panicked and broke free from his hold, grabbing his hands.

"What's wrong?"

"You want to strangle me?"

"No, don't be afraid."

"But you're very serious."

"Is that so?" He laughed.

I decided to get revenge on him. I swam to his lower body and took his penis into my mouth. Well, he was actually

very sensitive, especially at the edge where the glans and shaft connected. After only a few swallows, he almost cried out.

And when his penis entered my deep throat, as my lips swirled and sucked at its base, I felt the entire penis

rapidly grow large and hard within seconds. "I'm about to cum if you keep sucking." He pulled me away and dragged me back into his

arms a moment of tenderness.

After tormenting each other for over half an hour, he finally penetrated me. His glans gently rubbed against my labia

a few times, making a wet, sticky sound, before gently sinking in. He didn't thrust violently, there was no destructive force, he

even seemed afraid of hurting himself, lingering inside, but it was truly beautiful, making you feel like it was an outpouring of emotion, even though

it was just sexual intercourse.

The positions changed, as if every angle was perfectly in sync. Sometimes, he would drag me to the edge of the bed, bending over

the edge , moving in and out rhythmically and gracefully. If it became slightly more intense, he would restrain his body, the

prolonged pleasure filled with tenderness, which was touching.

When he lay flat, I deliberately increased the pace on top of him, his expression changed, he even cried out,

like a child who had just eaten an ice cream, after a few "ah ah ah" sounds, he couldn't help but say, "It feels so good, so good." But

he would immediately push me down again, taking control once more. I could imagine his pleasure, because I felt the same way.

He lifted my legs and pressed them against his chest; his heart was pounding. He licked my toes, and I

blushed. Suddenly, he picked me up again and placed me on the table, our genitals still connected.

I was intoxicated by everything in the process. The falling curtains and the view outside the window were ordinary, but they reminded me

of the movie *The Lover*, with Tony Leung Ka-fai and "Little Marguerite Duras" also in the afternoon.

We really wanted to make perfect love, even though it was essentially just intercourse. But it was precisely because there was no real

emotional entanglement that the intercourse had a purer charm.

We were like people on a long journey, stopping and starting. I didn't know where the end was, and the end depended on his

ejaculation. When he sat me on the sofa, my spread legs seemed locked, and I could only let him

gently push me with his hands on my waist. After a few pushes, he calmed himself down and went limp. "Let's rest," he

said, then pulled me off him, laid me down, and let himself sprawl on the bed.

I looked at the Mengniu pure milk on the table and thought of a new attempt. So I opened the package, took a deep drag, and

held it in my mouth. Then I lay down under him and held it in my mouth, letting his penis take a milk bath. Clearly,

the texture gave him a new kind of stimulation. He groaned, even though he was a little tired. "It's not very hard, but it feels so

good. I've never felt like this before," he said, which was his explanation to me.

I pulled away from his penis and swallowed the milk in my mouth. "Then, something hot?" I asked. He said there

was some water. Yes, there was water on the table. I poured some into a cup; it was hot. I carefully took a small sip and then put it into

his penis. "Ah!" he cried out again. I placed the milk and water side by side on the bed,

alternating between hot and cold for him. Poor guy, he seemed to be overdrawing his pleasure; perhaps this was what it meant to be in a state of ecstasy.

But I didn't want to overdo it, didn't want to torture him too much. So, I pushed away the cold and hot water and nestled in his arms

like I had . Love is something you do, I suddenly realized. If you love each other deeply during sex, isn't that

also a kind of love? Compared to something intangible, it's tangible, you can see it, touch it, and enjoy it.

When he held me, I felt a sweet warmth, even though when we entered the room, it was just for sex, for release,

naked lust. He said he liked having sex, he liked being needed. His girlfriend needed him twice a week,

his mistress (a married woman) needed him once every two weeks, and sometimes he needed himself too. For example, one morning,

while watching an NBA game, he suddenly got an erection and masturbated. "NBA can give you an erection?" I asked with a laugh.

"Yeah, it's pretty strange. Maybe I was a little depressed after waking up," he explained.

His mistress's ex-mistress (a girl born in 1980) and he went

to Yangshuo together and made love for 20 consecutive days before he went to study in Ireland. "A full 20 days, once or twice a day, so much so that after returning to Guangzhou,

I would tremble at the mere mention of 'sex,' and I didn't have sex with my girlfriend for a whole month." He briefly recounted

the story, transitioning to a physical moment. "You're a lot like her," he added. "She" referred to the little girl.

As he spoke, his hand continued to caress me. He liked me. Whether I

appeared in his cinematic story as his little girl or as myself.

I liked the fantasy. My lower body remained wet. His penis was engorged and hard again. He knelt before my

spread legs, pinching his own penis and gently tapping the puddle. He stared intently, like a child

staring blankly at a puddle on a rainy day. I couldn't see anything except his expression. I asked, "Can you describe what you

see?" "The sound of water," he answered, referring to his hearing. We listened quietly to the sound of the water, like pure, simple

music. Listening to it, it felt as if our bodies no longer existed. The dilapidated room was quiet.

He dived into the puddle, as if leaping into an abyss. He went in until no

part of our bodies could be seen anymore. He held me tightly and said, "You are a bottomless pit." He added, "We are conjoined twins." Again,

without any violent thrusting, he inserted his fingers into my anus. I felt a little uncomfortable, a sense of urgency.

Is this what it's like when all the voids are blocked?

And his fingers—could they feel his own penis through the thin walls of flesh? What did it feel like? Did it have

a shape? I licked my finger wet and reached for his anus. He smiled and nodded, as if to say, "Yes,

lick it wet first." My finger went in, slowly penetrating along the tight yet tender passage, and then it seemed to have hit

something. If men also have a "G-spot," he trembled with excitement. Another hole plugged in.

Gay men should be beautiful too.

Everything was almost at its climax. He pulled out, put on a condom, and said, "I'm going to cum." Then, he thrust

violently , and we both cried out. Then, a tidal wave.

Still inside, we kissed. "It's been a long time since I've felt this good," he said. "It feels like we

've been together for a long time," he added. Then, he checked the time: 6:40 PM. We had hardly wasted any time. Just

then, someone knocked on the door, urging us to check out. "Understood," he replied. The knocking continued, so he went to

the door and told the clerk he understood and would pack up quickly.

But he didn't pack up immediately. He leaned against my back, through the white sheet, and said, "I forgot this position,"

he said. "I'll pay next time," I said. He still lingered there, reluctant to leave. So when checking out, the defendant

was more than 10 minutes late and had to pay for an extra hour.

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[Women's Orgasm Confessions] ("Humans" are connected by sexual organs)

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