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My one-night stand with my ex-wife 

She took off her clothes and lay naked in front of me, her eyes closed. I climbed on top of her, my hands

caressing her breasts—fair and firm, with slightly large nipples. I took her right

nipple into my mouth, licking it back and forth with my tongue; under my ministrations, the nipple hardened. A soft

moan escaped her lips. Her eyes remained closed, and I looked at her face. It was still a familiar face, with

faint freckles; I noticed nothing different from before. I gently penetrated her. Her vagina

wasn't as tight as it had been many years ago, when I often felt as if a small fist was gripping my penis. I

thrust in and out, my hands roaming over her body, from her waist to her breasts, then slowly moving upwards. I gently

slapped her a few times with my fingers, then put them in her mouth. She took my fingers in her mouth, sucking hard. Soon

, I reached orgasm, unable to control the overwhelming urge from deep within my bladder,

and ejaculated into her vagina. She opened her eyes and asked me if I acted convincingly.


This was the night before we broke up. Afterwards, she left me, saying she no longer loved me. It was

winter sometime in the past, before the weather turned cold. I packed my backpack, took my sleeping bag, and wandered the western regions for over a month.

During my journey, I cried, cried alone in great pain. Once, I was almost drunk, staggering alone in

the evening wind , crying and wailing. I had lost my love. More than a month later, I finally

returned home unharmed. Alone, I faced an empty house, with only my few pieces of broken furniture remaining. It was

a very difficult time. Sometimes I wouldn't get out of bed all day, drinking in bed. Fortunately, I think

my journey as a wanderer healed my soul, and I didn't fall into the abyss for too long. In my pain, I began

to pack my things, because I was also preparing to leave this home. Quite by chance, I found the letters she

had written , many letters, and postcards. In our younger days, she loved me deeply. I

felt every word she wrote to me, and many almost forgotten moments from years ago resurfaced before my eyes,

as if it all happened yesterday. When she loved me most, I didn't hold her hand tightly, didn't place my love and

my entire life in her grasp. It was I who let that love slip through my fingers, and when it was washed away

without a trace by the stream of time, I still hadn't woken up to grasp it, even if all I grasped was a fleeting glance. I once watched a

comedy and took a famous line from it as a joke. Today, seeing this line again, I feel the same way as the characters

in the film . Later, I wrote this line in my last letter to her: "Once

, a sincere love was placed before me, but I didn't cherish it. Only when love was gone did I regret it deeply.

If heaven gave me another chance, I would tell that girl, 'I love you.' If I had to put a time limit on

this love, I would say it would be ten thousand years.


" Several more months passed, and the wounds in my heart were slowly healing. Then

one day, when I thought of her, my heart no longer stirred; I knew she had

completely left my heart. After she moved, she didn't live far from my city. One Friday, I drove to

her city on business. By the time I finished and left the client's office, it was past four in the afternoon.

I felt a little hungry, so I slowly drove around the old town, looking for something to eat. That's when

I saw her walking down the street, seemingly just off work, carrying a bag. I rarely observed her closely from behind,

but now, looking at her back, at her prominent buttocks, I suddenly felt a strange

urge . I wanted to embrace her, put her on the bed, and possess her again. So I drove

up to her and called out to her. She seemed surprised to see me, but quickly calmed down. We exchanged a few pleasantries and

asked about each other's lives. I noticed her hairstyle had changed; it's said that women change their hairstyles after ending a relationship

. I secretly considered how best to make my request. I suggested to her that

it was lunchtime and there was a pizza place nearby, so why don't we go sit down and grab a bite? I expected her to

refuse, so I didn't have high hopes, but to my surprise, she agreed to come with me.


We ordered two pizzas, one sweet Hawaiian and the other topped with Italian

salami, along with two beers. After a few beers, we gradually became a little tipsy and started talking more

. Although we had broken up, our conversation now felt more casual, because neither of us needed to shoulder any

emotional burdens for the other anymore. We talked about work, our plans, all sorts of topics, and even

our friends' recent situations and gossip. During the conversation, I would occasionally touch her shoulder and

the back of her hand, intentionally or unintentionally, to show agreement and appreciation for her views. Actually, I wanted to use this simple body language to see how she

felt about physical contact with me. I didn't sense any rejection from her; on the contrary, I felt that beneath her seemingly

emotionless gaze lay the same feeling I had: although we no longer loved each other,

we wanted to possess each other at that moment. After dinner, I tentatively suggested we go to my place for coffee. I said

I didn't have to work tomorrow, and we could listen to music. She hesitated for a moment, then checked her phone for the time. I said

it still early, and I could drive her back later. She nodded and got into my car. As I

drove onto the highway, I wished time could stand still, because this moment

might never come again. I tried to keep my speed within the speed limit, even though the highway was empty.

In the dim light, I could only see the newly painted yellow median stripe stretching into the distance,

and the swaying plane trees on either side of the road, quickly disappearing past the side window. We were silent the whole way.

To be honest, my mind was blank; I couldn't remember anything. I could only hear the radio playing

an album by the Spanish folk singer Silvio. I don't know what words to use to describe that moment,

because when I recalled that night later, it all felt like an illusion, as if

that night never truly happened in my memory, but rather a dream I created myself. It's as if I never

met , never held her waist and placed her on the bed, licking her from toe to toe all the way to her beautiful forehead.

My mind is filled with painful memories, because only pain leaves deep marks, while

those beautiful moments are only remembered in occasional moments of emotion, and among those beautiful moments, the most touching...

It's more like a family heirloom, deeply hidden at the bottom of a box, never to be taken out easily

. Sometimes, stacks of old and new clothes are even placed on top, as if I never want this

heirloom to see the sunlight. Perhaps subconsciously, I yearn for it to grow old with me. It's a bit like

winemaking, using simple ingredients to turn this glass into a vintage wine, so that I can occasionally

take it out and savor it in my later years.


After we entered the house, I opened a bottle of Port wine, took out two stemmed wine glasses, filled them for

her, and handed them to her. Then I poured myself a full glass. Afterward, I rummaged through the pile

of records on the floor, found an old Algren compilation album, put it on the record player, and soon

the vibrant blues rhythms of classic 1970s soul songs filled the room. So I dimmed the lights and lit

a vanilla candle. The aroma of the Port wine was very strong; after a few glasses, I felt

a little tipsy. Just then, she came out of the bathroom. Instead of going straight back to the sofa, she picked up a wine glass from the table,

stood in front of the bookshelf, and looked at the books on my shelf. For a moment, I felt she was no longer wary of me, and I felt

my chance had come. I put down the wine glass on the coffee table, got up, and went behind her, embracing her. She

struggled slightly, but I held her tightly, and she didn't pull away. I took the opportunity to kiss the back of her neck, because I knew that

was her sensitive area. Her fingers were stroking my arm. I turned her around and kissed her

cheek . I felt my lips touching an incredibly soft surface, with a faint fragrance. Suddenly

, I moved down and kissed her lips, sucking her tongue in and then sticking my tongue into her mouth for a French kiss.

My hands were on her buttocks, squeezing and caressing them; the feeling of touching the rounded protrusions was so

wonderful . I placed her on the edge of the bed and took off her sweater. I knelt at her feet and took

off her shoes. I lifted her stockinged feet and placed them on my face. These were the most beautiful feet I had ever seen; the five toes

and the soles of her feet were exquisitely shaped. I pressed my nose against the spaces between her toes, inhaling deeply the full scent

—the faint odor of the stockings and her feet sent shivers down my spine. I tore open her stockings and took

each of her toes into my mouth, licking them meticulously, even savoring the dirt between her toes. I continued

until her soles and toes were covered in my saliva, and I could taste nothing more. She seemed

to enjoy it, letting me lick her feet. Just as I was about to remove her panties and lick her already slightly wet vulva

, she pulled me closer and offered to give me oral sex. I pulled down my pants, revealing my engorged and red penis, and

stood barefoot on the ground. She looked into my eyes, her expression filled with desire. She slowly knelt down at my

feet and took my penis into her mouth. She moved her mouth back and forth, occasionally turning her head from side to side, giving my

penis even greater stimulation. I felt great. I held her head down with my right hand, intensifying

the thrusting . After a few strokes, I said, "Let's do something more exciting—oral sex." I laid her on the bed,

face up, her head hanging naturally off the edge. I bent my legs slightly and slowly inserted my penis

into her mouth, pushing it as far as possible into her throat. Then I commanded her to suck on my penis while

I thrust in and out. This method of oral sex allows for the deepest penetration, giving a man an intense, almost ecstatic

feeling.


I performed this for about 10 minutes until I felt I was about to ejaculate, so I pulled out and rested.

I had her lie back down on the bed, then climbed on top of her, kissing her and squeezing her breasts hard. Occasionally,

I would place my penis between her breasts and give her a blowjob.

I don't think I'd ever truly appreciated her beautiful breasts before, but today they were truly stunning.

I wished time could stand still; I wanted to spend my whole life caressing her snow-white, cow-like breasts. After playing

with her breasts for a long time, I stood up, turned around, put my buttocks on her face, and positioned my anus against her

mouth, making her lick my anus with her tongue. I squatted down and played with her breasts with both hands, while also touching her

vagina with my fingers and lightly patting it with a few fingers. I made her curl her tongue and try to penetrate my anus as deeply as possible, then

made her lick my anus with her tongue. It was a really high feeling. While she was licking me,

my eyes inadvertently glanced at the table and noticed the MM

chocolates . So I took one out and slowly pushed it into my anus. Then I knelt on the bed, raising my

buttocks as high as possible, making my anus face her, and made her lick the chocolate with her tongue first. After a while, I made her suck

the chocolate out with her mouth, and then we French kissed and finished the chocolate together.


I felt that she was very obedient today; she did whatever I asked her to do. And I used all my tricks

to give her more satisfaction and a more intense orgasm. I knew she liked the doggy-style

sex position, so I had her lie face down on the bed, moistened my penis with some saliva, and thrust it into

her vagina. I stroked her big buttocks while vigorously pumping in and out. She let out a series of pleasurable moans,

begging me not to stop and to keep fucking her hard. I carefully felt her G-spot and rotated my penis

to apply more pressure to that area. I also squeezed her two drooping breasts hard from behind

and made her suck my fingers. I felt she was truly enjoying it, enjoying the feeling of me fucking her. She was working even harder beneath me,

like a prostitute, completely surrendering her body to me, letting me do as I pleased. I was also

very moved, but I tried my best to hide my feelings, not letting her know. I dared not say I loved her again, so I tried my best

to give her the best orgasm. After trying several different positions, we were both almost

floating on air . I turned her over so she was facing me, pressed myself against her, and fucked her in the traditional position, which would

enhance our connection. But I didn't dare look directly at her face; my eyes were fixed on her breasts,

and I moved my lower body in and out of her already gushing vagina. My penis

was getting increasingly itchy, and I couldn't hold back any longer. A great pressure was building up inside me, and I had to release it. Since I wasn't

wearing a condom, I asked her where I wanted to ejaculate. She said anywhere was fine, I could ejaculate wherever I wanted. I

thought for a moment and said I wanted to ejaculate on her face, and she agreed. So I stood on the bed, and she knelt in front of me. I made her...

She looked at me and opened her mouth. I quickly thrust my penis in and out, and after a few strokes, I let out a loud cry, ejaculating a large amount of semen from the head of

my penis , more than I was surprised at myself. The semen landed on her face, eyes,

nose, and mouth. After ejaculating, I dipped my penis in some semen and put it back in her mouth, making her lick it

clean . She obediently cleaned my penis and kissed me deeply a few times.


We were both exhausted, so we cuddled together and fell asleep in the blankets. As I held her in my arms, my eyes

welled up with tears, a strange mix of emotion and melancholy washing over me. I sighed softly, unnoticed by her, and gently

stroked her back, from her head and neck to her buttocks. After a while, I said, "Why don't you stay here tonight?"

She gently pushed me away, got up, and went to the bathroom to shower. When she came out, she was already dressed. She

thanked me for giving her such a wonderful night, saying she would always remember this moment. Then she asked me to take her downstairs.

We stood quietly downstairs for a while. A gentle breeze rustled the sycamore trees, carrying

the scent of grass and flowers from afar . The moon was beautiful too… At that moment, I no longer wanted to keep her. Let her go, let her go to find

greater happiness for herself in the distance. All I could do was offer her my deepest blessings.


I offered to drive her home, but she smiled and shook her head. She said to me, “You go ahead, be careful not to get cold.”

Then she hailed a passing taxi, got in, and drove away. I

stood there like a fool, watching the car drive away. So many memories, in that instant, seemed like fragments from a kaleidoscope, flashing through my

mind. At that moment, I knew with absolute certainty that if time could turn back, if everything could start over, I

would still marry you, because I love you.

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