A Strange Encounter with a Married Woman

A Strange Encounter with a Married Woman

I don't like drinking, but I enjoy gathering with friends under the guise of drinking to chat. The conversation

mostly around the romantic escapades of these fellow philanderers. It's both a form of curiosity and an exchange of experiences.

We share our legendary experiences of seducing women, learning from each other's strengths and weaknesses,

which greatly improves our chances of success in future encounters.

After a hearty meal and drinks, someone asked me to tell a story. Unfortunately, I hadn't had any particularly exciting romantic encounters lately, so I suggested telling

everyone a true story from ten years ago about seducing a married woman. Everyone applauded.

With my tall and imposing 1.80-meter frame, handsome appearance, and sharp tongue, seducing

young girls wouldn't be difficult. However, seducing a married woman is a different story. A respectable

housewife has to consider the impact of her actions on the social environment and public opinion, which involves her reputation and

standing . Most married women, even with thoughts of infidelity, would think twice before acting, being extremely cautious to avoid

creating scandals and becoming the subject of gossip. Therefore, seducing a married woman requires nearly ten times the effort and time compared to

seducing a young girl.

Ten years ago, when I first started working at a company, I was assigned to a subsidiary

shopping mall . The mall had been open for many years, and there were very few new sales staff. Most were middle-aged

women in their thirties. I was assigned to a hardware counter, where there were three women: one was over fifty and

nearing retirement, and the other two were just over thirty, still retaining their charm despite their age. Because

one of their husbands also worked in the mall, they were practically inseparable, making seduction nearly impossible.

The only one I could potentially seduce was the woman at the counter who handled the receipts. Her surname was Yu, and her husband was stationed out of town as a clerk year-round, while

her child attended a private boarding school. The first time I saw her, she was wearing a newly made

black dress with gold trim, her breasts prominent, and she walked with her head held high, exuding an air of self-importance.

Seeing her arrogant demeanor, I secretly resolved to see what she was capable of. I'd see how I

made my move .

Having set my target, I took action. Before long, through careful observation and covert investigation, I quickly

gained a basic understanding of her daily preferences and whereabouts.

Because her husband and children weren't around, she spent most of her free time at the mahjong table besides work

. Whether it was due to limited skills or bad luck, she always lost more than she won. In casual conversations, she was mostly seen sighing and

complaining— I lost 100 yesterday, 50 the day before." She was rarely seen beaming with joy; if

she was, it was because she had won that day. Women like her who didn't need to care for their families in their spare time

were rare, making it difficult to maintain a daily mahjong game. Reading her expressions and catering to her preferences was

a tactic . Before long, I naturally became her mahjong partner. Although I was young then, as a gambler,

I was no longer "young"—I could basically be described as "experienced" and "battle-hardened."

I had no interest in their small-scale games, but my real intentions were elsewhere. To win her over, I

would deliberately give her the cards she wanted or intentionally let her win. I also

used subtle tactics during play and shuffling to create favorable conditions for her to win.

At crucial moments, I would subtly hint at her moves. In short, with my help, her luck

improved dramatically; she won more than she lost, and her cheerful demeanor grew. Of course ,

she noticed my special attention, as I played a crucial role in her transformation from a habitual loser to a

frequent winner. As time went on, our special relationship as "colleagues and card buddies"

gradually brought us closer. From initial indifference to now constantly calling each other "little brother," it took

less than half a month. I knew I had succeeded in the first step.

Once a woman gets close to you, all that's left is opportunity and courage. Because of

the excuse , I had more opportunities to be alone with her. But just having the opportunity to be alone with her wasn't enough;

there also needed to be conditions. Only when both conditions and opportunities were met could you have a chance of success, and this chance,

with careful planning and scheming, could become a reality.

As usual, the agreed-upon location was her house. I

remember had all sorts of fantasies. How exciting and novel it would be to have an affair with a married woman in the drizzling rain! When I arrived at her house, the card table

was already set up, and she was anxiously waiting inside.

"Where are the others?" Although I pretended to be concerned about the card game, I was secretly thinking

how wonderful it would be if the two people I had arranged to meet didn't show up.

A golden opportunity presented itself. Half an hour later, the first friend I had booked called, saying her daughter had a high fever and

had to go to the hospital, so she couldn't come. Although she was annoyed, she couldn't complain too much since the other person genuinely had something to do.

She called the other friend, who called back, saying her husband's father had just come from the countryside and was

mediating a conflict between his brother's family, so he couldn't come either. Although I pretended to watch TV, I overheard the entire conversation. A

rare opportunity! Facing my long-coveted prey, I felt a surge of joy. I squinted at her, and

wow, she looked incredibly sexy today. A perfectly fitting, brand-new black cheongsam clung tightly to her slightly upturned

, plump buttocks, her high, full breasts practically spilling out, alluring and tempting.

After making several more calls, she reluctantly came out of the room. "Young man, we can't play today. It's

raining outside, and none of them want to come."

"Never mind then," I said, feigning indifference.

The rain outside was pouring down harder and harder. I got up, pretending to go out, and said, "Hey, it's raining so hard, why don't you play

a little longer?" Her face flushed slightly as she said this. Although we'd known each other for a long time,

this was the first time we'd been alone in a room together, and it was understandable that she wanted me to stay—it was raining so hard. But perhaps as

a married woman, being with such a vibrant young man in such a downpour wouldn't allow her to

remain . Her blush might have been because she'd thought of this, but this subtle

expression didn't escape my hunter's eyes. Heh, where do you think you're going? A surge of joy welled up inside me…

"Do you have any DVDs? I want to watch some DVDs, TV is so boring…"

It's impossible for a middle-aged couple, so eager for sex, not to have pornographic DVDs at home. My choice to watch DVDs

was deliberate.

She opened the drawer and let me choose, but all I found were newly released DVDs; I couldn't find

anything I wanted. "Is there anything interesting?"

"What? What's interesting? Aren't those movies interesting?" She knew what I was going to say but deliberately

changed the subject .

"Heh, do you think I'm a child?" I teased her.

"Are you an adult?" She feigned maturity.

"I'm very bad..." I walked over, getting closer to her.

"What are you doing...?" she asked breathlessly. "Doing something bad..." I grinned lewdly as I approached her.

"No, no, no, I can't, I'm your older sister." She backed away step by step, with nowhere to retreat, the sofa blocking

her way .

"You can't even like your older sister?" I chuckled, grabbing her hand. She recoiled in fear, falling into

the sofa. I seized the opportunity, pouncing on her, seeking her lips. She flinched, her face flushed.

"No...no..." she cried, but her voice was weak and feeble.

At this point, the woman was powerless to defend herself, and this kind of evasive woman sometimes fueled even greater desire

. Dry tinder and a raging fire, once lit, would burn fiercely.

The rain poured down, the loud noise unable to mask her heavy breathing. Our tongues

swirled wildly in each other's mouths. It was my first time with a woman in a cheongsam, and I couldn't find my way in, so I

explored the cheongsam itself. She reached out a hand and gently unzipped one side of the zipper, slowly pulling it back. Wow, her skin was

so , smooth and delicate, soft and elastic. I greedily

kissed her from her neck down. She gasped, collapsing onto the sofa. I gently unhooked her bra. Such beautiful breasts,

firm and incredibly elastic. I gently nibbled at them with my teeth, and she couldn't help but let out a soft moan. Perhaps it was because I used too much force, or

perhaps it was because she couldn't help herself. I cupped her breasts in my hands and began to lick and suckle them incessantly with my tongue, sometimes gently nibbling with my teeth

, sometimes swallowing them with my mouth, making soft "smacking" sounds with my skillful movements.

"Oh, gentler, gentler..." she murmured, her head buried deep in the sofa.

Her cheongsam was gone, her bra unhooked, leaving her only in a pair of black, narrow-brimmed panties. I didn't

rush to remove them, but instead slowly caressed the outer edge of the panties, from top to bottom, rubbing along the contours,

then slipped my fingers inside the edge. Ah, the grass was already soaked. I slowly probed inside; such an alluring

wetness, sticky and warm, the two petals already slightly parted, the restless depths of the flower yearning

for entry . There was no need to hesitate any longer; I joined my fingers together and pointed directly into the depths of the flower, stirring rapidly, faster and faster.

"Oh, um..." she moaned softly, her body moving rhythmically to the beat of my two fingers. Meanwhile,

her mouth never left her erect nipples, her teeth kneading and pressing them simultaneously. Under this intense stimulation,

her primal desire was quickly activated, her body stretching and writhing on the sofa.

Not satisfied with my harassment at the edge, she pulled one hand from under me, looped it around my back, and thrust it between my

legs, tightly gripping my rock-hard penis. She slowly stroked it, not quickly, but with a guiding

and teasing touch. When I got up and removed all my clothes, looking at my erect penis, she chuckled, "So long

..." I flicked my penis, deliberately raising it high, and asked with a lewd grin, "Ready?" "You little rascal," she

cursed, and... Burying her head in the sofa like a child, this action was incredibly alluring and stimulating.

I practically ripped off her panties, climbed onto her back, spread her legs, and accurately

entered already soaked flower cave needed no guidance; it was unobstructed. Her flower cave, having given birth, was already

relaxed, and with the pre-warming foreplay, my thick penis moved with ease and freedom. The relaxed flower

cave had its own unique wonders, because the direct stimulation to the root was relatively reduced. Not only did the accumulated magma erupt

instantly , but the thrusting became faster, more intense, and deeper with her waves of pleasure. She turned over,

lying on her back with her legs raised high, her opening wide with a continuous stream of vaginal fluid, like a deep, unfathomable cave

that needed to be filled to satisfy it. Thrust, thrust, and thrust again, deeper and deeper still. I gripped

one of her raised legs in each hand, like a tireless old man pushing a cart,

pushing . Although the rain was heavy, the "plop, plop" sounds of my penis and vagina during the thrusting were still clearly audible.

My pent-up desire and lust, stimulated by the intense thrusting, finally reached their peak after 1000 rounds.

A surge of heat shot down from the top of my head, gushing out. "Wow..." I couldn't help but

shout loudly, collapsing weakly against her already sweat-soaked chest, burying

my face held me tightly in front of her breasts, unwilling to let go for a long, long time.

"You little rascal, you finally succeeded..." she said contentedly.

Haha, so she had already sensed my scheme. Thinking about it, how could a woman in her prime, with her husband away for so

long , possibly be content with her lot?

Thus, the plan to seduce the young woman was successfully completed. The lecherous man, still reveling in the affair, pressed for details.

I later told him that after succeeding, the card games ended, and I went to her house almost every night for a

wild I was always hunched over, a sign of kidney deficiency, as anyone with a sense of morality would know. This affair

continued until her husband returned from out of town. "Are you still in contact? Now...?"

someone eagerly asked. I smiled without answering... because I had just run into her in the city's bustling downtown area the day before yesterday. We

smiled at each other and passed by. I didn't want to contact her again, and she didn't want to contact me again. Wasn't that good enough

?

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A Strange Encounter with a Married Woman

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