Last Valentine's Day, I went to a hotel with a 33-year-old woman.

First of all ,

let me clarify that this is a true story that happened to me.

At the end of the year before last, I met a new girlfriend. She was 33 years old, but still unmarried, and the general manager of a

multinational company 's East China region. I'll omit her name for now and just call her R. R had a pretty,

delicate face, which was what initially attracted me to her. However, after she removed her makeup, I was shocked to discover that she had no eyebrows!

R said she ruined her eyebrows when she got them tattooed in college, and they would never grow back. But that wasn't so bad; R

's figure was quite unfortunate. I only realized this after she took off her clothes. Her lower abdomen

had so much fat it looked like she'd given birth, and her breasts were small like a man's—basically flat! And

let me also criticize bras these days; they're all thick padding, incredibly deceptive. You could wear one on an airport runway and

it would look like two towering mountains! I really don't know what part of a beautiful woman's body is real these days!

R's father went into business in the early 1980s, so the family was relatively well-off. Now, her

brother manages the business, and it's unlikely she'll be the heir. However, her family's wealth has given R

a narcissistic and arrogant air. She thinks she's very high-class, constantly carrying designer handbags and wearing designer

clothes . She often boasts about owning two fur coats worth nearly 100,000 yuan, but I've never seen her wear them. Of course, even if

she did, I don't know if they'd be worth the price. Ironically, when she met me,

she didn't even own a car. The secondhand Tiida she drives now was bought for her after we met. Getting a woman like that into

bed certainly costs a lot of money; it cost me about 300,000 yuan in about a year. But enough of that, let's

get to the point.

Last year, Valentine's Day fell on a Thursday. R usually goes to the mahjong parlor with her friends every Thursday night

, but she turned down the game to spend Valentine's Day with me.

By the way, let me mention an incident involving R playing mahjong: There was a

guy , and their relationship was unusual. One time, R arrived early, before the other two, and she actually

went to see a movie with this guy. Sometimes, after playing mahjong until 1 or 2 AM, R would go to Xintiandi

with for a couple of drinks. Everyone knows that after 11 PM, people's thoughts subtly change;

a lone man and woman going to a bar late at night—how could nothing not happen? So I suspected R and this guy

were having an affair.

That's just a side story, let's leave it at that.

That day, after work, I drove to pick up R and took her to a five-star hotel in the city center for dinner,

and of course, we ended up checking into a hotel.

When I picked R up, she had already bought me a Valentine's Day gift—a chocolate man's

penis —while I had no gift for her.

Upon arriving at the hotel, we checked into our room. I told R, "You go up first, I'll make a reservation at the restaurant."

When the elevator reached the 4th floor restaurant, I went down, while R went directly to our room on the 26th floor.

I went to the restaurant first, made the reservation, and ordered a bottle of French red wine. I then asked the waiter not to bring

the wine up yet, but to quietly deliver it to my room after R arrived, along with a rose to place on

the bed . I gave the waiter a 500 yuan tip, and he happily left.

After arranging everything, I called R and asked her to come directly to the restaurant. R arrived shortly after.

We ordered food; a Valentine's Day dinner naturally included bird's nest, abalone, sea cucumber, foie gras, and the like

. Since red wine was provided in the room, I ordered German ice wine.

After the cold dishes, the bird's nest was served. R beamed and said, "Honey, I haven't looked

well , you need to give me some nourishing food!"

"How?" I asked, taking a sip of the German ice wine.

"Of course, you have to take me to eat bird's nest once a week, that way I can get better!"

"No problem," I thought to myself, it wouldn't cost much anyway: 600 yuan for a serving of bird's nest, and

twice a week in bed, I wouldn't lose out.

Dinner was naturally very pleasant, we chatted and laughed until after 10 pm. Then I called the bill,

put it on the room key, and prepared to go upstairs with her. At this moment, R's phone rang.

Since R's hearing isn't the most sensitive, she usually turns her phone volume very high, so I could tell it was a

man.

R knew from the phone number that it was a man, a man she knew, probably in his forties, and

unmarried.

R spoke to him in Cantonese, her eyebrows animated, her expression very ambiguous.

It turned out that R thought I couldn't understand Cantonese, but she was completely wrong. I could understand it, but I pretended not to.

R said, "You're out alone today, Valentine's Day, and you didn't ask me out."

The man said something, and R laughed so hard she was shaking, adding ambiguously, "You only think of me

when ? You should have told me sooner so I could have kept you company." I don't remember the exact words, but it was something like that—

ambiguous, even a little flirtatious.

Guys, even if I didn't want to actually marry R, just see her as a girlfriend, any

man would still get angry in a situation like this. But I didn't show it on the surface; I

just impatiently said,

"This long-distance call seems a bit too long, is it ever going to end?"

R then hung up unhappily, explaining, "It's Mark, you know Mark, right

?"

Damn it, when did I ever hear about this guy named Mark? Who does he think he is? The mayor? Do I

have to know him? I know R was just making excuses, as if I knew this man

even .

"I don't know! I don't want to know! It's Valentine's Day, and someone calling you at 10 pm tonight

must have a special relationship with you!" I could feel myself gritting my teeth as I spoke

.

Many days later, I learned that this man's surname was He, his English name was Mark, he drove a cheap

BMW 3 Series, and he was a manager for another multinational company in the city. R often used his

company's resources to cheat others—it was all about taking money from foreigners anyway, so it wasn't my business. But I felt that the funds or...

Those who have close business ties and personal relationships, meeting more than once a week, are

almost always involved in something scandalous and sordid.

Another incident convinced me that R and Mark's relationship was far more complex than she claimed: R once went to

Hong Kong a business trip and stopped in Macau, staying at the Venetian. She liked the room so much that she suddenly felt a surge of lust and took

pictures of it, sending them via MMS to everyone she knew. Naturally, Mark was on the list. When he

found out, he immediately flew over and even treated her to dinner! Of course, R downplayed

it , but I suspect they slept together afterward!

So, despite her vehement denial of any romantic relationship with Mark, I had already accepted it as fact. In fact,

this was the biggest reason I dumped her later! I didn't want to wear a huge green hat!

R always explained to me, "If I had a crush on Mark, I would have been with him long ago. Why would I be bothering you?"

She even said, "I'll definitely arrange a meeting between you and Mark so you'll trust me."

Ironically, when we broke up, I still didn't know what Mark looked like. Later, I

realized that this was probably R's strategy to gain my trust. As for why she

still , I figured it was because Mark didn't want to marry such an old woman, and I had lied and said I

was willing.

Of course, all of this happened after Valentine's Day. I'll write it all down sometime for

you guys to enjoy.

I angrily went up to the 26th floor with R to our booked room.

A five-star hotel is indeed five-star; the suite was spacious and luxuriously decorated.

R went in first, and as I entered, I closed the door with my left hand and locked it with my right.

"I'm going to take a shower first," R said softly, seemingly without anger. I guess she was a little annoyed that I impatiently made her

hang up the phone.

Oh, and by the way, ever since Valentine's Day, she puts her phone on

vibrate whenever she's with me.

"Hmm." I didn't say much and went into the inner room. There she was, the waiter had indeed brought the flowers and red wine

, but she hadn't seen them since she went straight into the bathroom. I decided not to let her enjoy

all . I viciously crushed the roses and threw them in the trash can, then covered them with some paper

so she couldn't see the flowers underneath.

I put the red wine on the wine cabinet, making it look like it was for sale.

After taking off my clothes, I smoked a cigarette, then heard her start showering, so I rushed into the bathroom.

First, I peed on her stomach and body, then ignored her and started showering myself.

I lathered myself with shower gel, then slid around in her arms, as if she were giving me a Thai bath.

She wasn't too happy.

I didn't care about her attitude; I didn't care about her, I just wanted to be comfortable.

After I finished showering, I left.

A little while later, R finished washing up and came out. I jumped on her, pinned her down on the bed, grabbed her legs,

spread them apart, lifted them up, and hoisted them onto my shoulders. Then I roughly thrust my already engorged penis into her vagina.

"Ah!" She must have screamed in pain!

Damn it, I'm going to let you taste the feeling of rape. I changed my usual gentle approach to sex,

thrusting in hard and forcefully with each stroke, each one seemingly infused with my resentment and displeasure.

I needed to vent, to get revenge on this slut!

Speaking of which, R's vagina was quite tight, it definitely had a gripping feel, and it was also very deep.

My penis is 16cm long, but it still felt like it was bottomless. The first time R

made love , it had been a while since we'd had sex, and I felt that R's vagina was very tight; the folds on the walls

were very noticeable as they rubbed against each other. However, later on, R's vagina did loosen up a lot from my thrusting.

But she's over 30 after all, and there wasn't much lubrication anymore. Aside from the first few times we had sex, there was more lubrication

, but it decreased over time. However, the first few times her vagina was tight and there was a lot of lubrication, while later it became looser

and less lubrication occurred, so it didn't feel like I could penetrate her much, but the friction was quite strong.

Women over 30 have a much weaker vaginal self-cleaning function, making them prone to vaginitis. Once,

while I was penetrating her, instead of the usual white vaginal discharge, she had chunks of something like

cottage —it was disgusting. Afterwards, she went to the hospital and it turned out to be vaginitis! She actually

said it was her first time having this disease and that I must have infected her. I was so scared I couldn't sleep for a week.

But I went to the hospital, everything was fine! Later, she let slip that a client

had taken her to Yangcheng Lake for crabs, and the hotel there was dirty, so she got vaginitis.

She it's hard to cure and prone to recurrence, so she got it.

What a load of rubbish! The vagina is normally closed, with the two labia tightly closed, and nothing can be inserted.

Could the bacteria be flies that flew in on their own? It seems she already had sex with someone else during the trip to Yangcheng Lake, and she still

lied to me!

Anyway, back to the point.

While I was inserting into R, I took out my phone. Back then, I was using a Nokia N93, one of those phones with a very powerful

camera . I filmed her lewd behavior, made a video, and posted it online.

I wanted all the men in the world to appreciate R's lewdness.

Gradually, R became wetter and started moaning.

R's moaning was strange; it was a loud roar coming from her throat,

"Oh, oh, oh, husband, husband, oh, oh."

But while it was loud, it wasn't the kind of scream that could be heard downstairs.

During our intercourse, I naturally didn't forget to take care of the chocolates she bought me.

It was quite fun using that penis-shaped chocolate to poke at her vagina, though I initially thought it was a solid piece, it was

actually hollow, and it crumbled after a few pokes. So I had to use my own penis instead.

I also stuffed the hotel's complimentary fruit—cherry tomatoes, which are small tomatoes about the size of grapes—into R

's little mouth.

"What are you doing! You'll never get it out!" R exclaimed, getting impatient.

I ignored her and inserted another one. Actually, if a woman has something inside her, as long as it's

small, round, and smooth enough, it will slide out automatically. What can't come out? Unless she's tried putting something like a pen cap inside

before and had trouble getting it out, how would she know it can't be done?

After inserting seven or eight, I used my right index finger to reach in and pry them

out one by one.

Then I inserted my penis and thrust it in and out, in circles, turning her over and over, making

her stand on the floor, kneel on a chair, lie on the table, sit on the sink—I fucked her for a full

two hours. After trying various positions,

"I'm going to cum. Do you want me to cum inside your stomach, on your face, or in your mouth?" I asked her angrily

.

"Please, don't cum on my face or in my mouth. Cum inside me, or on my stomach is fine too," she

pleaded.

Cum inside? Of course, I couldn't fall into her trap. What if she got pregnant? That would be a real problem.

Damn it, I wasn't going to listen to her. A second before I was about to ejaculate, I pulled out my gun and sprayed my entire semen onto R's

face.

R tried to escape, but I grabbed her hair with both hands, and she couldn't get away. I sprayed her head and face with my semen.

Since R had short hair, which she had supposedly maintained for 10 years, I

smeared the semen on every corner of her face and head, and of course, I made sure to get every single hair.

R was almost crying, and I felt great.

I took a shower, got dressed, grabbed some drinks, went downstairs, and checked out.

From the time I met R to the time we broke up, it was exactly one year.

Through R, I gained a deep understanding of 33-year-old unmarried women: 33-year-old women are

unlikely to get married because they've waited so long. They would never settle for someone without money, and

rich men wouldn't date 33-year-olds; rich men, of course, want to date 23-year-olds. So, when women

are still unmarried at 27 or 28, they get anxious. This anxiety gradually becomes a habit,

so they try to flirt with any man they see, especially successful ones, making them seem rather promiscuous.

R and I agreed to meet every Tuesday evening and Sunday afternoon. Mondays are

generally busy, Wednesdays and Thursdays are for entertaining clients, Fridays are for R to play mahjong, and

Saturdays are for everyone to rest. Therefore, Tuesday evenings and Sunday afternoons are our fixed meeting times.

Tuesday evenings usually involve me picking R up after work, then having dinner (sometimes I'd invite

a few of R's close female friends), and then going to a hotel. Sunday afternoons involve going to a hotel first, then

going out for dinner, then having sex again, and then everyone going home.

Now, let me tell you about what happened last April.

Because R really upset me after Valentine's Day, and then

another , I stopped talking to her.

Let me explain what happened in March.

“We might not be able to meet next Tuesday.”

R suddenly said this as we were checking out after a passionate Sunday night.

“Oh, then I’ll arrange a client engagement.” I thought about it and realized I also had to meet with a leader from a municipal bureau, the time still

undecided, so I decided to schedule it for Tuesday.

“What makes you insist on Tuesday? Isn’t every Tuesday our official working day?” I followed up

.

R didn’t answer immediately, thought for a moment, and then slowly said,

“There’s a global freight forum at the International Convention Center next Tuesday, and our Singaporean boss is coming. I

definitely need to have dinner with him.”

I thought that even if it was the Singaporean boss coming for dinner, that was normal, and it wouldn’t usually be too late.

My engagement with my boss usually didn’t end too late either, so I said, “Then let’s each do our own thing and

contact each other after dinner.”

And just like that, Tuesday arrived.

I followed the original plan, successfully engaging with my boss, and most of the business we needed to discuss was done,

so the dinner ended around 8 pm. After seeing my boss off at the restaurant, I called R:

"I'm done. Are you done too?"

"I'll be done in a little while, but not too long," R replied.

"Okay, where are you? I want to know how far away you are." I wanted to know where she was eating.

It sounded quite noisy on her end. "We're eating at Xintiandi. The boss took this opportunity to invite

some clients and friends over, mostly foreigners."

It seemed like a lot of people, so I said, "Okay, I'll call you back later," and hung up.

I drove my car out of the parking lot and headed straight for Xintiandi. I

was eating , which was a bit of a distance from Xintiandi, about half an hour via the elevated highway.

I thought I wouldn't call her; she'd probably call me back after her dinner.

The elevated highway was still quite congested around 8 PM. By the time I arrived at Xintiandi, it was already around 8:45.

I parked my car on the side of Madang Road, rolled down the window, and listened to the radio and smoked a cigarette inside.

After what seemed like an eternity, I felt a chill; after all, the March evenings were quite cold.

I checked the time; it was already 9:30, and R still hadn't called. So, I had to call her again.

"Is it over yet?" I asked after she answered.

"Oh, not over yet, but it should be soon," R replied.

I had to hang up again. I thought I wouldn't call her again; I'd just wait for her to call me back and

see how late she finished dinner.

Everyone knows that if it's a client dinner, it's usually scheduled around 6:30 PM, and even if the guests arrive late,

it should start around 7:00. A meal lasts two hours, so it should be over by 9:00. By 9:30

, they've basically finished talking and should be done. Besides, R was driving, and she doesn't drink; she said

her boss doesn't drink either, so 9:30 should be close to the end of the dinner.

So, I waited until about 10:15, then started my car. I was leaving; it seemed R

was up to something today.

I drove all the way back to the western suburbs and parked on a small road not far from my home.

I thought if R called, I'd tell her I couldn't wait and had already left, since I had to go to work tomorrow.

Unexpectedly, I waited in my car until 11:30, but R didn't call. Damn it

, she's messing with me! My anger flared up instantly.

I called R, but she didn't answer. I called again, still no answer.

Did she sleep with the boss? That slut! I thought angrily. I'll call one more time; if she doesn't

answer, I'm going back and never want to see her again.

The call rang for a long time, and just as it was about to disconnect, R answered.

The instant R answered, I heard a lot of noise on the other end. I spoke first:

"What's going on? Dinner's still not over at 11:30?"

R obviously didn't hear me clearly, but she guessed what I meant from my broken voice.

"After dinner, the boss invited his friends out for a drink at the biggest bar in Xintiandi. They booked

a large private room and they're drinking!" R seemed to be bragging about it.

"Damn it, when I had my board meeting, I booked the entire revolving restaurant at the New Jinjiang Hotel!

What's so great about booking a private room at a bar? Looks like R's head office isn't that rich! At best, it's

a low-quality foreign company.

" "Weren't you driving? Why are you drinking? Didn't you say you weren't drinking today?" I asked, a little annoyed

. Because in my opinion, if a woman drinks and doesn't know how to control herself, she's very easy to get into

bed , especially an unmarried, impatient older woman like R. Even if I would never marry R,

I still couldn't accept R sleeping with other men.

"They insisted I drink, I only had a few glasses of red wine," R said.

What? Damn it, she drank "a few glasses" of "red wine"? And a bunch of foreigners at that! I was

furious .

I yelled at R, "Don't you even know what time it is? I've been waiting for you all this time!"

"You didn't call me, I thought you went back!" R tried to justify herself.

"Why didn't you answer my call earlier?" I was furious.

"It was too noisy in there, I didn't hear it," R said.

Good grief! That bitch was chatting away with some foreigner, she couldn't even hear my call.

Nonsense ! She knew I was calling her, wouldn't she pay attention to the phone? How could she not hear it? A phone light

illuminates when there's a call, how could she not see it? Clearly an excuse!

I still don't know why R didn't answer the phone that day, or

what she was doing in the bar's private room. Honestly, I don't want to know. I think if I knew, I'd be even more

heartbroken, so it's better not to know.

"You fucking bastard!" I cursed and hung up. A moment later, my phone rang again.

I looked, and it was R calling.

"What else do you have to say? I've been waiting for you all this time! And you were drinking with other men?"

I said, and hung up again.

R called again, I immediately hung up and turned off my phone.

I just wanted to play around with R, but she played me.

I never want to see R again.

After that incident, R called me for a whole week, but I didn't answer.

Later, R had one of her friends try to persuade me, and she kept trying. I thought R was still worth

dating, after all, she's 33 and quite experienced in bed, and it felt pretty good.

So I started seeing R again.

This Tuesday, R knew I was still a little unhappy, so she didn't dare to make any demands about eating out.

When we were thinking about where to eat, she said, "Didn't you say the farmhouse food in Zhujiajiao was delicious? Let's

go there."

After work, going to the city to find a restaurant is really not as good as going to Zhujiajiao . It's

faster by highway, and the roads are less crowded out of the city.

The restaurant we went to wasn't actually on the food street in the town, but

on the banks of a small river in the new district. Because the river food was fresh, the business was always good.

The two of us ordered a plate of stir-fried snails, a bok choy dish, a steamed wild mandarin fish, 3 ounces of wild river

shrimp , a wild turtle weighing about 1 pound, and 3 bottles of beer.

I'll skip the details of the meal.

Eating together is quick for two people; we finished before 8 o'clock. Firstly, because there were fewer people, and secondly, because

my initial curiosity about R had faded. We'd already had her countless times, the

novelty was worn off, so we didn't talk much. After dinner, R suggested we go for a drive around the area.

So we drove off. Looking back, it was actually R's plan; she wanted to rekindle my interest and curiosity

by having sex in the car.

"We can't get a hotel room today, it's so late. We'll have to check out once we get back to the city," R said after driving for a

long time .

"Yeah, then let's not get a hotel room today," I said.

"Want to try doing it in the car?" R teased me.

"Sure!" I agreed almost without thinking. It was only April, no mosquitoes, and

not too cold.

Having sex in my car is very dangerous because my car's interior lights turn on automatically;

they turn on as soon as the door is opened, and you can't turn them off manually unless you close the door. Even with the doors closed,

there's about a 15-second delay before the lights go out.

So, if I were to do it in my car, I'd have to make sure no one was around, otherwise, I'd easily be spotted by pedestrians.

Luckily, there are fewer people

on the suburban roads. We chose a road in the new district with a parking

bay stops, but no buses run there yet; it's a newly built villa area,

probably not yet completed. I didn't dare park in a too-hidden spot, partly because I was afraid of running into thieves, and partly because

the police are most wary of very secluded suburban areas and frequently patrol them. So, I had to choose a

road with streetlights.

I parked the car, let R get into the back seat, opened the right rear door, and stood outside the right rear door.

I didn't want to do it in a sealed car; the steam would fill all the windows, making it

impossible for anyone inside to see outside. I

didn't want to .

Now, standing outside the car, I could clearly see everything on the road, including oncoming traffic and cyclists on the non-

motorized vehicle lanes. Comrades, note that the dome light inside my car is on.

I pulled down R's pants completely and threw them onto the passenger seat. I let her legs out of the car,

and she lay back on the back seat, her right leg kicking against the right rear door, her left foot

braced against the center post of the two right doors. This way, her vagina was completely open to my lower abdomen. R isn't tall, only 1.56

meters, so she could do this position. Taller women might not be able to do

this .

I glanced at R's vagina and couldn't help but think: a slut is a slut. I'd barely gotten into position when she

was already wet; white fluid was dripping from the opening and hanging on the sides. I guessed it

was related to ; she wasn't like this in the hotel, always needing a lot of foreplay to lubricate.

But I wouldn't get hard so quickly, so I pulled my pants down to my knees and

gently rubbed my penis against her vulva.

With R's soft moans, my penis grew larger and larger. So, I thrust in and out slowly, fully

enjoying the softness of R's vagina.

About 10 minutes later, two dark figures appeared in the distance on the bike lane near where we parked.

I stopped thrusting and looked closely.

"Honey, why aren't you moving?" R asked anxiously. "Just

taking a break," I said, not telling R that someone was coming on a bike. I wanted to see clearly first; I

only needed to hide for 15 seconds.

As the two figures drew closer, finally, when they were about 100 meters away, I could see them clearly.

They were two female factory workers in uniforms, riding bicycles towards us.

I guessed it must be the female factory workers from the afternoon shift passing by on their way home.

Then, an even more exciting thought popped into my head: since R isn't my wife, letting them watch me

have sex with her wouldn't hurt, and it would give me even more excitement and pleasure. Of course,

I couldn't tell R that someone was there, otherwise, we wouldn't be able to have fun!

The two female factory workers were probably around 20 years old, passing by behind me.

From their angle, they could see this scene: my back was to them, my shirt was up, my

pants were down to my knees, and two bare women's legs were in a V-shape in front of me,

extending from my shoulders. It was obvious what we were doing.

Since it was their way home from work, they weren't in a hurry, so they were riding slowly.

My bike light was on, so it was easy for them to see R lying on the back seat as they passed by

. R was lying down, immersed in waves of pleasure in her lower body, her eyes closed, breathing heavily,

calling out "husband, husband" over and over again.

When they could see us clearly, I increased the force of my thrusts, and their moans

grew louder.

The two women, initially unaware of what was happening, suddenly became very

attentive , all four eyes turning towards us.

I clearly saw their faces flush quickly, then they exchanged an embarrassed glance

and rode away quickly.

If it weren't for today, they might never have witnessed two people

having sex , deliberately making loud noises for their benefit. For two country girls, this scene

was incredibly shocking.

And for me, it was even more exciting.

In the distance, several more bicycles approached, followed by a few more. This proved my initial assessment was

correct ; this was the route the women took home from work.

So, I repeated the same trick countless times. Finally, in a state of utter excitement, I finished. In such an extremely stimulating

situation , the time wouldn't last as long as a hotel room session, so it only lasted about 20 minutes in total.

"Someone's here." I nudged R and got into the car. R thought someone really was coming;

little did she know, her live sex show had already been seen by no fewer than 50 young women.

Comrades, imagine what it would feel like for a factory worker from the countryside to witness a high-ranking city manager being violated and

screaming !

We've probably done this kind of car sex more than 10 times, sometimes in Zhujiajiao, sometimes

near the Taitai Le factory area, because women who work the afternoon shift often pass by these places.

Next time, I'll share some exciting stories about visiting R's friend's house, attending her friend's wedding, and our outing to Thailand for

Songkran , including our outdoor sex downstairs at her house.

Because I was quite busy at work the past few days, business picked up a bit, and we finally had

a chance to safely weather the financial crisis. So, the stories I promised to write are finally here today.

Friends keep asking me about the 300,000 yuan; I was referring to the amount spent within a year, not in a single day!

Why don't you read my previous articles carefully? Regarding the 300,000 yuan, I'll explain here

to avoid any misunderstandings from my friends.

Actually, 130,000 yuan of that was used to buy a used car and license plate for R; 40,000 yuan was for

a classic Chanel bag for her; 50,000 yuan was for a trip to Thailand for Songkran; 30,000 yuan was

for her car insurance and the compensation I paid for the accident she caused; 20,000 yuan was for a trip to Hong Kong;

and miscellaneous expenses throughout the year, such as hotel rooms and gifts for various holidays, amounted to about 30,000 to 50,000 yuan.

Aside from the car and accident compensation, the annual expenses were 140,000 yuan, averaging over 10,000 yuan per month, or 4,000 yuan

per Since I accounted for half of those expenses, let's say the daily cost was 2,000 yuan. A sauna

costs 600 yuan per hour, so I'd need three saunas a day just to break even. Ah, I'm getting old! Looking back now, no matter

how I was the one who lost out! But at the time, I didn't think that much about it, and I certainly didn't use cost analysis to calculate it.

This story is about the parking lot of the apartment complex downstairs from R's building at night.

Before dinner that day, since it was raining, I decided to go home after eating. Unexpectedly,

the rain stopped after we finished.

R asked me to drive her home, but it was too early, so I parked the car in their neighborhood and chatted

for a while.

"Isn't my bag pretty?" R pointed to a red handbag she was holding.

"Yeah, it's nice, a Chanel. When did you buy it?" I replied.

"Just last week you gave me 40,000 yuan, so I went and bought it," R said casually.

"Oh? So fast!" I exclaimed.

"Yes, it's a new model, red leather, gold chain. I even pre-

ordered " R said.

I thought to myself, last time R asked me for money, she said their salaries were directly deposited into their accounts by their Singaporean boss

. Last month, due to some problems in Singapore, the payment hadn't come through, and she said she was short of money and asked me for some, which is why

I gave her the money. I never imagined she had planned this all along. Well, it's only a few tens of thousands of yuan.

But this woman, R, is really strange. She has money but doesn't buy a house, preferring

to live with her brother, sister-in-law, and parents, and her relationship with her sister-in-law is very strained. Logically, she should find a place to move

out . R should prioritize housing since she has money, but she just loves buying designer brands, buying a huge pile of

"junk" designer clothes, leaving them at home, claiming they'll appreciate in value. It's laughable. The clothes were new

styles in 2007, costing the price of new styles, but she doesn't wear them. By 2008, they're old styles, only worth the price of older models

. I don't know how R calculates this.

"Birds of a feather flock together"—that saying is always true. R has a girlfriend named Lili, a woman

like that , but much more voluptuous than R. Lili is the same way; she rents her apartment,

but wants a dream wedding at Hong Kong Disneyland. Lily is a sophisticated and fashionable woman, though she's only 23.

She used to date an older Taiwanese man, but he used her and dumped her. Now she's dating a

23-year-old guy whose family runs a small business in Guangdong. She tricked him into buying her a car and a diamond ring, but not a house. I asked her why she

didn't buy a house, and she replied, "I won't get the house in the divorce, but the car and the diamond ring are mine." Unbelievable!

She's about to marry him, yet she's so calculating.

I didn't want to dwell on the bag issue, so I asked, "Oh, let me ask you a question. You don't have to answer if you

feel uncomfortable."

"Okay, what is it?" R smiled.

I paused, then slowly said, "Before sleeping with me, was there anyone else who could make you feel this comfortable?"

"Ha, I'm 33. If I said I hadn't felt comfortable before, wouldn't I be too incompetent?" R glanced at me

sideways.

She then told me her sexual history, which went something like this:

In college, she met a man—not a classmate, of course—and they had sex for the first time. However, this man

seemed to be some kind of petty thug or hooligan from the area around the university. When she talked about this "hooligan," her tone

was as if she wished he were dead. I remember her exact words were something like, "I wonder if he's still alive!"

After starting work, she met the son of her father's colleague, but she looked down on "son-type men" and they didn't have

any relationship. Now he's married with children, and she even bumped into him once at the Boteman Hotel in the city.

Ironically, her father's colleague, an old man, also had a crush on her. He would frequently visit her under the guise of

borrowing and returning books. Sometimes, when she wasn't home, he would even wait for her. Later, her father found

out and was so angry that he beat him with a broom. As a result, the two old men couldn't even remain friends. From this, it seems that R is indeed

a very promiscuous and flirtatious woman, not even sparing old men. Generally speaking, if a father's friend

behaves properly , respecting elders and juniors, the old man won't think anything of it. But

if a man seems like a flawed egg, it's no wonder the old fly is attracted to him. (Thinking back, I was also hooked up with in the same way

, though I'm not an old man.)

Later, a man met a foreigner, probably from the same company, a Malaysian, and

they slept together right in his office. Because they weren't the same race, the "Malay man's" penis was too big, causing her to

bleed . She was scared; because the size was so mismatched, she dared not have any more contact with "Malay men."

Of course, I think the reason might not be that simple.

Before me, there was a private business owner who ran a construction company, but he was a henpecked husband, driving

a BMW 7 Series. Once, he went to Zhouzhuang with many friends, and she rode in his car. This guy, who usually drove recklessly

, actually drove very steadily, and naturally, the ride-sharing woman ended up in his bed. However, because his wife kept a close eye on him,

the "7 Series Man" could only have his driver frequently deliver money to R. Whenever R took a liking to something, he would tell her to buy it, saying things like

, "Buy it, buy it, or else it'll be a worthless, stupid person (Note: 'A worthless' is a dialect term meaning a very bad, stupid person)."

R and her girlfriends often used this phrase to tease each other. Because R forced the "7 Series Man"

to divorce his wife and marry her, their affair was exposed. The "7 Series Man's" wife hired a private investigator to follow R every day, making

R mentally unstable and unable to resist. She even fainted and spent a month in the hospital. Out of fear, R had

no choice but to give up. Of course, that's what R told me, but I still don't quite believe it. I guess the "7 Series Man," like me,

just wanted to get rid of her after he got tired of her.

At this point, you all know that Ra really does like to do it anywhere other than hotels—in the office,

in the car, in the countryside, haha. So, the first time we had sex in the car was R's idea, and I also

did it a few times in her office at her request.

There's another infuriating thing I need to tell you. On my birthday, I arranged to go to KTV with R and some of her

close friends. R and Mark probably discussed it, since they talk on the phone several times a day.

So, this guy booked another room on the same floor as mine, though I didn't know that at the time. While

we were singing, R said she needed to use the restroom too when her girlfriend went to the bathroom. My

large room had a restroom, but it was occupied by her girlfriend, so R went to the public restroom outside.

I didn't think anything of it at the time, until half an hour later R still hadn't returned. I was also a little tipsy from being pampered by her

friends, so I went outside too, partly to get some fresh air, and partly...

I went to the restroom to look for R.

KTV rules state that all room doors and windows are transparent, allowing people outside to clearly see

those inside. However, the glass is quite small, so it's not easy to see unless you're specifically looking.

I first went to the restroom to urinate, then called R's name several times outside the women's restroom, including

her Chinese and English names, but of course, no one answered.

I wanted to call R to ask where she was, but realized I hadn't brought my phone with me, so I had to

go back dejectedly.

When I passed a small room next to the restroom, I was surprised to see R inside, and Lili was there too.

There was also a man with his head buried in Lili's chest. Because Lili's breasts are large, I

couldn't see who it was because the man's head was buried so deep. R was laughing at them and singing, which I found strange.

I didn't go in; I went straight back to my room. I never told R

what I saw that day. I guess R's breasts must have been buried in that man's too. Poor R's flat chest and large nipples;

I wonder how that man ravaged them.

About half an hour later, R returned to our room. She said it was a coincidence that she ran into Mark and

Lily singing there too. I said, "Great! Why don't we invite them over too? It'll be more lively with more people." She said

no need , they had already left. Haha, Lily's always been a slut, she's probably off to a hotel with Mark now,

I thought.

Just like that, I missed a chance to see Mark's face clearly. Strangely enough, I've run into Mark

a few times, but for various reasons, I've never seen what he looks like, and of course, he hasn't seen me either.

However, R has photos of me and videos of us in bed on her phone. I wonder if this slut has shown

them to , probably she has.

Anyway, back to the point.

We were chatting and it got late. R said, "Do you dare to do it downstairs? Right in your car?"

"Damn, what's there to be afraid of?" I thought to myself. Doing it on the street, and even a country girl

has seen it, let alone at night in a car.

"Okay, let's do it then." R said, and started taking off her pants.

That day she was wearing fleece-lined pants that looked like sweatpants, without a belt, just an elastic band, so they were easy

to take off. R took them off and immediately straddled me.

I moved the seat back all the way, unbuckled my belt, and took out my erect penis. R eagerly shoved my penis

into her vagina. Goodness, R was already aroused; it was dripping wet, and I thrust it all the way in.

"Sss!" R gasped loudly, then started stroking it up and down.

I was a little embarrassed by R's actions, but we were downstairs, and what if

a neighbor came out? Wouldn't they remember my license plate? And there were security guards patrolling.

"Wait, don't move, let me pull my pants down a bit, or your juices will stain my pants again,"

I said.

R stopped moving, and I pulled my pants down a little.

"Hurry up!" R said urgently. She was indeed aroused, very aroused.

In this extremely dangerous situation, R moved like a mad dog for five minutes without stopping.

"Wait, don't move, a security guard is coming." I saw a security guard walking towards our car

.

Then everything became quiet, so quiet that we could hear each other breathing.

It seemed the guard was just on routine patrol. He walked past my car and headed towards the row of houses in front.

I was terrified. R was lying on top of me, his upper body was properly dressed, but he had no pants.

What if the guard shone his flashlight and found someone in the car? What if he questioned him? That would be terrible!

R sat on me and started stroking me again, moaning as he did so:

"Oh, husband..."

"Ugh, ugh, so good, so good..."

I said, "What are you doing now?"

R said with his eyes half-closed, "I'm fucking you." (dialect: fucking someone's pussy)

"Whose pussy are you fucking?" (dialect: fucking whose pussy) I asked again.

"Poke xxx's pussy." (Dialect: to insert into xxx's pussy, xxx is r's name, which cannot be revealed,

omitted) r said excitedly.

"Did you poke me?" (Dialect: Did it feel good?) I said.

"Yes, yes, yes." (Dialect: comfortable, very comfortable) r became even more excited.

"Poke me, poke me, poke me to death, poke me to death this rotten pussy!"

r shouted, her usual OL demeanor completely gone, she was a complete slut!

Accompanied by r's lewd words and loud moans, I unhesitatingly shot all my millions of semen into

her body, completing my nth internal ejaculation.

r rested her head on my shoulder for a moment.

"I need to pee." r suddenly said.

"Then you can go back, anyway, the elevator goes to the 12th floor." I could also get away at the same time.

"No, you keep an eye on it for me, I'll pee right next to the car." R seemed reluctant to go back.

R returned to the passenger seat, pulled up her pants, opened the car door, and peed right next to the car. After

peing, R got back in the car, closed the door, and asked, "How was it? Did I look beautiful peeing?"

I was stunned; I never expected R to have such a tendency to be a voyeur.

As she spoke, a foul odor suddenly wafted over. I turned and frowned at R, about to ask,

when she chuckled and said, "I farted."

Good heavens, even a woman's farts smell this bad! I had no choice but to roll down the window a little. Who knew that

in the next 15 minutes, R would fart about 10 times! Damn it, can't you go back to your car to fart? You have to fart in

my car?!

I was about to explode when R said, "My dad says rich people fart a lot, poor people burp a lot." She even said her farts

don't smell bad, and if I said they smelled bad, it would be an insult to her! I was absolutely speechless!

After chatting for a bit, I said I was a little tired, so I got out of the car and quickly drove home. Along the way,

I rolled down all the windows to let the wind blow away the lingering smell of farts in my car.

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Last Valentine's Day, I went to a hotel with a 33-year-old woman.

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