My affair with a married woman

Once upon a time, I was a promising young man with ideals and aspirations. I studied hard, hoped to find a good

job , and repay my parents for raising me. However, the reality after graduation seemed to have broken my

wings. Without connections or backdoors, I could only return to my hometown, a small place, to continue pursuing my

seemingly unattainable dreams. My close girlfriend from school broke up with me. Faced with reality, I

had to lower my once proud head...

I worked for a small company, working from sunrise to sunset every day, with endless overtime.

For those few years, I was constantly depressed and struggling. Gradually, my classmates and

friends all got married and had children. My social circle shrank, and the pressure from my family increased. To

be honest, who doesn't yearn for love? Twenty-five or twenty-six is the age of "spring fever," but I felt that the purity of my

once idealistic heart had been tainted. I couldn't let go, I couldn't move on. Faced with these

inquiries, whether well-intentioned or malicious, I gradually learned to hide myself. That way, no one could understand me. I didn't want

the sadness I had painstakingly cultivated over the years to resurface and cause me pain and despair again.

Suddenly, like a spring breeze, on an ordinary day, I met my beloved. Her broad-

mindedness and magnanimity attracted me, and I plunged into her embrace, unwilling to leave. I greedily suckled

at her sweet milk, only to discover how wonderful the outside world truly was… Yes, you guessed it, my

beloved was the internet, the internet that became widespread in our area that year. From then on, I was unstoppable,

completely absorbed, from single-player games to online games to BBS forums, and now QQ, which I still use. I'm almost

obsessed with everything I play, and I refuse to go to bed before 2 AM every night. I've unknowingly

poured , especially on QQ and forums. A person's attitude is like a mirror. When you

approach online games with a cynical attitude, everyone is just a player in your eyes; but when you sincerely

communicate , everyone becomes someone you can confide in.

I met her online; her name was Anzi, in a small QQ group chat room. She was

an administrator, and I was added by a friend. Late at night, she would occasionally greet me and we'd

chat for a few minutes, but it was always lukewarm. Until one Mid-Autumn Festival evening, the whole family had a reunion dinner. After

the meal, my aunts, uncles, and cousins started talking about my personal life again. Burdened with frustration,

I went to an internet cafe. Perhaps everyone had plans that day; the group chat was quiet, but I saw her

online . Feeling down, I met a netizen my age, and I

poured out all my unhappy stories to her, regardless of whether she wanted to listen or not. She listened attentively,

occasionally asking me a question. Towards the end, I felt a little embarrassed. We were complete strangers; why should

a girl like me, with all her precious time to herself, care about my past heartbreak or happiness?

I'm usually quite cool and not very sociable, so

this unexpected change in myself surprised me. Maybe I'm just naturally a very emotional person, or maybe the full

moon just stirred something within me… Anyway, we had a very pleasant chat that night, feeling like we were having a great time. It wasn't until

after 2 a.m. that I said goodbye and left the internet cafe. It was already autumn, and the nights

were getting chilly. The streets were desolate; the city was asleep, even

the occasional sound of passing cars in the distance was gone. Every night was like this. Walking alone made me

feel incredibly vulnerable; unknowingly, the darkness made me taste the bitterness of loneliness!

After our last chat, we gradually became familiar with each other and started talking more openly. We discussed everything from society and

politics to studies and life, our conversations were boundless and varied. Sometimes, after a while, I would even

bring up some risqué topics or share some dirty jokes. We were no longer restrained or

taboo, and we joked around freely. But when the topic turned to family, especially hers, I instinctively

sensed a kind of resistance, a helplessness, and a feeling I couldn't quite describe. I consciously avoided the topic

to prevent awkwardness. But I was curious, genuinely curious. As a single, young woman, I couldn't understand why

a girl my age, in the prime of her youth, felt such

sadness .

" It was this fatal curiosity that led to the unresolved

emotional entanglement between Anzi and me, a relationship that could only be forgotten.

Before recounting this experience, I feel obligated to advise everyone: don't engage in online dating, don't

try to find true love in the virtual world. Most beautiful things are illusions. The fatal allure of online dating

lies in its near-perfect illusion, born of its virtuality. In such a relationship, one can

cast aside all the heavy burdens of reality and utterly immerse oneself in the world of emotion. Humans always have an

impulse to do as they please, especially when the risk is low and the temptation high enough; no one can resist.

However, it's just a game, a dream. Although saying this is a

desecration

gradually, she opened her heart to me, and my laughable online romance began. Every night,

we, who had added each other as QQ friends, would often chat until we were reluctant to part.

We laughed and joked like brothers, teasing each other, joking and teasing, completely free of any

pretense or affectation. Our words flowed endlessly whenever our avatars lit up, as if we

had an endless supply of things to say. At first, I thought it was just a way for two young people to

cope with loneliness or solitude. Those were the happiest and most carefree days of my life.

When I was lonely, I could watch the bouncing penguin avatars, admiring each other without any ulterior motives. Then, like

all online romance stories, we unconsciously developed

a vague attraction to each other. But we never opened Pandora's box. We remained respectful and proper because

I learned she was a married woman… So, she didn't dare, and I couldn't bear to.

We continued our tacit understanding online.

However, I underestimated the power of the internet, underestimated the formidable electronic media of the 21st century, and underestimated…

For years, I had hidden my desires, suppressed by the trivialities of life. I began to lose control of my surging

emotions; you could say my heart was completely conquered and captured. Every day, the first thing I did upon returning home

was log onto that damned QQ, my eyes bloodshot as I searched for her presence, always pretending it was

a chance encounter when I saw her… Those days of waiting for her QQ to light up lasted almost four months, a wait tinged

with resentment and mixed with joy. I spent almost all my time waiting or on

my way to wait. Two people separated by distance, experiencing this bittersweet joy online. I think this is one of the reasons why

so many people relentlessly pursue online romance.

Like thunder and lightning, our love blossomed between two people on completely different paths, and then,

like —we met. It was late autumn, and it felt quite cold. But the lazy sun still hung in

the sky, as if determined to witness my moment of happiness. The appointed time was approaching, but she hadn't appeared

. My heart was pounding with anxiety, like claws were scratching at me. I figured most women were late; it

was almost a given, otherwise they'd feel like they weren't living up to their status! A silvery laugh drifted over,

and finally she arrived. She was truly beautiful, just as I'd imagined. A snow-white coat, beautiful boots, and

long, flowing, jet-black hair. Her tall figure—all of this captivated me, leaving me speechless and

feeling a pang of self-consciousness.

After waiting for a while, Anzi, seeing me staring at her without saying a word, began to show signs of annoyance, her slightly flushed face

contorting . Sensing my abruptness, I quickly apologized. Then, we

strolled slowly along the riverbank, walking side by side like two lovers in the throes of new romance. There was no awkwardness of a first meeting; it felt

like we'd known each other for years. She, in turn, openly expressed her affection for me. I tentatively took her

hand, and after two token rejections, I finally grasped it. Anzi's fingers were long and slender, white and delicate

, as if there were no bones between her knuckles. Holding her cool little hand, I was so excited I could barely walk

...

The sky gradually darkened, and the wind by the river was quite strong. I held her close, pulling her closer,

and we walked slowly down the street. Her breasts were really large, bouncing as she walked, barely contained by her coat. My hand

occasionally brushed against them as we walked. I couldn't remember the last time I'd touched a woman; the softness felt incredibly comfortable.

I took her to a taxi to a regular restaurant called Prince Bar. The most

important thing for two people together is compatibility. We enjoyed the meal very much. She was

a not extravagant or pretentious at all. Then we went to a large entertainment venue.

We had a couple's booth, sitting very close together. With the red candles swaying on the table and the dim lighting, I

found this hazy, unspoken atmosphere quite beautiful. Here, under these beautiful and enchanting lights,

she spoke of her family, though the atmosphere was dim…

She had been married for three years. Her husband was four years older than her, handsome, gentle, and worked in a lucrative

government affiliated institution as a minor manager. Everyone who knew her said they were a perfect match,

and that she had chosen a good husband. As she spoke, she pulled down her clothes, revealing two distinct bruises on her body.

She said these were from her husband's beatings. Because he was a leader, he had countless social engagements every day.

After drinking, he would take his anger out on his wife, ranging from verbal abuse to physical violence. But every morning when he sobered up

, he would feel remorse and kneel on the ground to apologize to Anzi.

This cycle repeated .

Anzi grew tired of it and filed for divorce. Only then did she learn that her parents and brother had borrowed nearly 300,000 yuan from her husband for her nephew's

medical treatment. There was another, more important reason, but I cannot reveal it.

Anyway, she couldn't leave... Her husband threatened her that if she left, he would sue her parents and have

her brother's family ruined.

So, she had no choice but to endure this humiliation. They had seen a doctor and learned it was a

mental illness, and that if he found out she spent too much time talking to other men, he would beat and

rape her when they got back (this was something she told me after we became quite close)... To be honest, that day, I had

unhealthy intentions when I suggested meeting her. But hearing what she said, the thought of bullying her completely disappeared;

instead, I felt she needed my protection.

That evening, I booked a hotel room for her. After settling her in, I prepared to leave, but she said quietly that she

had secretly run away and was determined to go back the next day, hoping I could spend some time with her and have a good talk. I stayed

, and we watched a movie and chatted on the computer. Because we had been out all day, everyone

seemed . Around 11 pm, I pulled the mattress to the floor, saying she would sleep on the bed and I would sleep on the floor. It started

raining and

thundering outside . We slept with the light on, but after a while she said she was still scared and asked if we could sleep together. I knew it was a dangerous situation—a man and a woman alone together, a bright light on, should I be a gentleman or a pervert? My first affair

was about to begin…

So in the middle of the night, we moved the mattress back onto the bed and lay down, but I couldn't fall asleep. I reached down to

kiss her, and Anzi gasped, blinking her big eyes at me. I realized then

how , with long, captivating eyelashes. She resisted by pressing her hands against my chest, saying a lot of things—that even though

her husband treated her this way, she couldn't betray him; that she only wanted to be my spiritual lover; that she was married

, etc. But I couldn't hear a word she said; my mind was filled with filth. I ran my hand through her hair,

ignoring her struggles, and kissed her forcefully. She had a faint fragrance about her, and the taste of her tongue filled me with

indescribable bliss. Gradually, I began to lose control, and her breathing became heavier, her eyes more hazy

. She was wearing a small green sweater, her breasts stretching it high, but I couldn't

care less about admiring her attire. I teased her earlobe with the tip of my tongue, pinning her small hands behind her back with one hand

and lifting the sweater with the other. What happened next made my blood boil—it was leopard print! I'd only

ever seen that style of lingerie in Japanese art films. Like a hungry tiger, I buried my face in her lingerie.

She moaned, struggled, and writhed. Slowly, she lowered her hands, her face flushed crimson.

Like water. I slowly pushed up her bra, took her nipples into my mouth, and

gently sucked on them with my tongue and teeth, feeling like eating mushrooms, incredibly smooth and tender. My hands caressed her body tirelessly,

finally stopping at the buttons of her jeans. At this moment, Anzi truly panicked, grabbing my hand and saying, "

We've already gone this far. If we continue, it will be a real betrayal of my husband, an affair." I kissed her passionately,

expressing my love, "Your husband doesn't know how to cherish you. Let me take good care of you." Perhaps it was an arrow already on the bowstring,

or perhaps the thunder was growing louder and louder, she gave up resisting, instead wrapping her arms around my shoulders and offering her

fragrant lips.

Suppressing the burning desire within me, I slowly pulled down Anzi's jeans. My movements were as gentle as

unfurling an exquisite oil painting; her curves, her body, were instantly and perfectly revealed before me.

After a long, intimate caress, I quickly removed all my restraints. My penis sprang

out as I pulled down my underwear, the reddish-brown glans constantly paying homage to her. Ignoring her ashamed expression, I straddled her

, and with a thrust, I slid my penis into her wet, smooth passage. The instantaneous contact caused us both

to groan simultaneously. "So tight," she kept saying, "be gentle, it hurts," biting her lip to stifle

any sound. I loved that expression; it aroused my lust. At first, I felt a little tenderness, but slowly

I lost control, increasing the speed and force.

Her face flushed, her eyes seemed about to burst with tears, and her body gradually warmed, covered with a blurry

blush. Soon, I felt an uncontrollable surge of desire, accompanied by her moans, rushing towards me. My

whole body convulsed, and my thighs began to tremble uncontrollably. Just as I was about to pull out, Anzi pressed me down, saying

it was okay. Before she could finish speaking, my penis trembled rapidly, and thick, sticky semen entered that beautiful, rich place.

Perhaps I had been too excited just now, because I was so tired that I lay on top of her, closed my eyes, and fell asleep almost immediately. The next morning,

when I woke up, Anzi was gone, without leaving a note, as if she had never been there,

as if I had just woken up from a wet dream.

I saw Anzi again a week later. I knew she had been avoiding me, and she

had even told me that if I had feelings for her, I shouldn't call her, because if her husband found out, she wouldn't

know what to do. She told me that she couldn't bear the guilt of betraying her husband, and she couldn't bear the condemnation from everyone.

I chatted with her leisurely, reminding her to keep warm in both cold and hot weather, sending her my

blessings , and always treating her gently. In this way, she tacitly accepted me as her online husband. I don't know how

to describe the happiness after we fell in love. The computer became my only solace. When we were both online, I

didn't even want to leave during mealtimes. Even a few hours of waiting felt

like

n't be

optimistic felt this love could vanish at any moment. A sense of uncontrollable sorrow constantly welled up in my heart,

spreading like a tide, slowly yet irresistibly engulfing me. During that time, I

truly wanted to be with her, marry her, have a child with her, and build a happy family. I was truly

willing to cast aside all worries, all gossip, and even give up my family, my job,

everything , to be with her. To abandon the mundane realities of life, to unload all the burdens from our relationship, and to make our love

pure and transparent. But she hesitated, unwilling to make a decision that would hurt anyone, and my

heart was gradually overwhelmed by sorrow.

Looking back now, perhaps I knew from the beginning how ridiculous my thoughts were, but I couldn't

control myself. Our relationship began at night, belonged to darkness, and could only return to darkness,

never to see the light of day again. I knew this was our destined ending. It was a Friday afternoon. Unable to resist

my longing, I ignored her objections and drove for almost half an hour to her place.

When she finally came to see me, she was somewhat excited, perhaps even a little scared; her face was

pale .

I just came to see her, not to hurt her. I regretted my rashness then.

Coincidentally, her husband wasn't home; his work unit had organized a trip to another county, and I stayed overnight at her house. In her and her

husband's bed, in front of their wedding photos, I completed my second affair under my semi-coercion,

a mix of excitement and fear. Now, thinking back, I don't know what made me so audacious. Was it

love? I don't think that's entirely true.

That afternoon, perhaps the environment stimulated me, or perhaps the strange feeling of having an affair infected her; she went from passive

to active, giving me oral sex, riding me and swaying back and forth. I came three times in total, and I could

barely stand up after getting off the bed. The sweat on our bodies and the lustful fluids inside us soaked a large area of the paper on the bed. Please

forgive me for no longer wanting to describe the specifics of that evening. Regardless of the other person's marital status, I was, after all, in

someone else's bed, riding someone else's wife again and again, using every move I had learned from Japanese adult films.

Although the pleasure of the affair was irresistible, I knew that I was building my happiness

on , even though he didn't know it. That night, I took a bus back. And from then on, Anzi and I

were entangled on and off for a year, every week or two, we would find various excuses to have a brief

but . But we both knew that we had no future, and we both tacitly avoided the topic. In

the face of reality, we were worse than beggars. Our love faded away after she had a child.

(The End)

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