[The young bureau chief's wife]

The young bureau chief's wife

??? Back then, I had just started learning about stocks, spending every day in front of the computer. Anyone who's traded stocks knows

how boring it can be, especially when you've invested all your money in a stock,

only to see it stagnate for days. Selling feels risky, but holding on means watching other stocks hit their daily limit,

some of which you yourself had your eye on. So, after investing all my money in a stock, I prayed:

"I hope the next few days won't be so boring." But things rarely go as planned.

One day, I invested all my money in a stock. Stocks bought that day couldn't be sold, and seeing the market trend

remained , boredom began to creep in. Often at times like this, leaving the computer was

impossible, so I'd usually kill time by playing pool or cards online.

But that day, I wasn't interested in playing. Bored, I clicked into a chat room, intending to just observe. The

chat room was full of names like "Light Dance," "Graceful Stem," "One-Night Stand," and "Passionate Telephone

. " Entering a boring chat room when you're bored isn't exactly fun. So I

was about to leave when a message popped up on the screen: "Let's Chat for a While (Female)."

I felt that online chatting was about letting go of our real-life masks and having a genuine conversation. Since we were all strangers online,

why not be more real? So I clicked on "Let's Chat for a While (Female)" and said

, "Hello..."

She was 31 years old, from Hunan, and had moved to Guangzhou with her husband after his military service. She worked as a deputy director in an office and had

a seven-year-old son. Since our first chance encounter in the chat room, we'd communicated through QQ. On QQ,

she was called "Xiaoyu," and I was called "Net Fish." Her work wasn't very busy; her workplace provided her with a

computer, so we could communicate anytime and talk about anything. When she achieved something at work, she'd

immediately share her joy with me; when my stocks went up, we'd pray together for them to rise again the next day.

Of course, there were also times when things didn't go well. She often complained that her husband was always out socializing, rarely having a

proper , and that her son was very naughty and often disregarded her words. As for me, I often

worried about China's capital market. When we were happy, sharing our joy made us even happier. When we were in a bad mood, we encouraged each other

until we both believed that tomorrow would be better. Gradually, if one day the other didn't appear online, I

would feel a little missed. We communicated online for half a year like this. During that time, I often wanted to meet her,

but then I thought, since we were getting along so well, why not maintain the status quo? If we met and found that she

wasn't as good as I imagined, I might lose my initial enthusiasm. So, I decided it was better not to meet,

after all, this online relationship was hard-won.

Later, I went to work for a decoration company. The boss was my classmate. He also liked to trade stocks, but

often didn't have time. So, we started working together. When the market was open, I would keep an eye on the market for him. He even bought a

laptop so that we could work anytime, anywhere when we were out socializing or running errands.

After sitting in front of the computer for too long, I enjoy moving around a bit.

One day in May, a classmate's company completed a renovation project at a nearby building. On the day of the inspection,

my classmate specially hosted a banquet with over a dozen tables, inviting everyone from the client company. To avoid any appearance of extravagance, the venue was the newly

renovated rooftop garden, and the meal was simply a buffet hot pot.

As night fell, a bright moon rose, a cool early summer breeze blew gently, and the newly planted flowers and plants emitted

a delicate fragrance, creating a unique atmosphere. The ladies who arrived, the older ones dressed elegantly and demurely,

while the younger ones made the most of their youth, dressed in their finest attire. A lady sitting at the next table, facing me

, caught my attention. She looked a bit like Tao Hong from the TV series "Da Shi" (大师). Her long hair was pulled

back , and she wore a white, thin suit skirt over a matching white silk blouse. She wore no makeup,

only a light touch of lipstick. Wearing all white isn't usually a good combination, easily highlighting

skin imperfections, but her skin was very fair, smooth, and delicate. The white clothes made her appear even more elegant and

radiant. The banquet began, and of course, there was plenty of alcohol. My classmate pulled me along, and we went from the leaders' table to the staff's table, toasting each

table. It turned out that this unit didn't have a director yet; the deputy director was the head, and the woman in white was

the director's wife. This surprised me a bit. Usually, even if an official's wife isn't overbearing, she exudes

a sense of superiority, but I didn't sense it at all from her words and actions.

After a round of toasts, people began to eat and drink. Two seats were always the most lively:

one was the bureau chief's seat, and the other was the bureau chief's wife's seat. For the sake of their careers and futures, subordinates

generally wouldn't miss an opportunity to impress their superiors. In such occasions, the way to gain favor with the leader

was, of course, to toast them. Besides the bureau chief, there was also his wife. The bureau chief's wife seemed to be

averse to alcohol; initially, she didn't drink at all, only consuming soda. However, she eventually succumbed to the enthusiasm of the crowd and

began drinking small glasses of wine. After a few glasses, two rosy clouds rose on her fair face, her smile

radiant , making her even more charming and alluring. One scene in particular remains unforgettable: after drinking, perhaps feeling

a bit hot, she stood up as if to remove her clothing. The moment she pulled down her suit jacket, her breasts stood high and

firm, the boundary between her breasts and bra clearly visible beneath the thin silk blouse.

The banquet lasted about two hours, and everyone was slightly tipsy and full. At this point, my classmate came over, handed me the car

keys, and said, "After dinner, I'm going to karaoke and sauna with the director and the others. Looks like tonight's going to last until tomorrow morning.

I'll ride with them; you take the director's wife home, and you can drive the car home tonight." The wife was clearly

quite drunk; she stood up and took a few steps before becoming unsteady. I sensed something was wrong. Tonight we were drinking

imported liquor. Usually, when you drink too much imported liquor, you're not so bad while sitting, but once you stand up, the effects start to

kick in , and the aftereffects get stronger. Fortunately, there was a row of flowers and trees blocking

the view of the people in the aisle we were walking through. It wouldn't be good for the director's wife to appear drunk in front of her husband and subordinates. I quickly called over

a female employee to help the wife, but the employee wasn't much better herself. The two of them, supporting each other, were unsure if they were...

Who would help whom? Fortunately, the effects of the alcohol hadn't fully kicked in yet. After getting off the elevator and into the car, things went smoothly without

any major mishaps. I had originally planned to have her sit in the back seat, but she said she gets carsick easily and prefers the front. In the car,

I suggested that if she had drunk too much, perhaps the female employee could accompany her home, but the woman kept shaking her head, her tongue a little stiff,

saying, "I'm fine, no need to trouble yourself." Hearing her say that, I couldn't help but chuckle to myself: it seems women

are the same; even when they're drunk, they'll say they're fine. Perhaps worried about carsickness, she even rolled down the window.

I felt bad telling her again that it's not good to be out in the wind after drinking, so I asked for her address, thinking it best to

get . She didn't say anything more on the way.

Twenty minutes later, the car arrived at her apartment building. It was a newly built residential complex; many houses were still under

renovation, and very few had moved in. The car stopped, but she didn't move. Was she asleep? So I opened

my car door, intending to go over and open hers so she could get out. Just as the car door opened,

the interior lights came on, revealing a stunningly beautiful woman intoxicated on the seat to my right: she wore a white suit jacket,

leaning back against the seat, her body tilted towards me, her head resting on the back of her seat next to me. Her short skirt

had ridden up almost to her thighs as she leaned forward, revealing a large section of her left thigh encased in white, sheer stockings

. Her eyes were closed, a few strands of hair clinging to her forehead, which was damp with a light sheen of sweat. Her chest rose

and fell with her breath, and the top button of her silk blouse had somehow come undone,

revealing the upper edge of her white bra and the upper part of her breast that wasn't covered by the bra through the slightly open neckline. I was stunned for

a moment, a surge of heat rising involuntarily from my lower abdomen, my groin swelling and bulging against my pants. Just as I

was at a loss , she suddenly opened her eyes, her right hand quickly fumbling for the door switch, and she flung open the door, her body

springing out like a bullet. Her sudden action startled me, and I rushed out of the car. I saw

her squatting on the ground, her back heaving as she vomited with a loud "whoosh." Her body swayed uncontrollably as she vomited, and I quickly

supported her shoulders. The horrifying vomiting continued for several minutes, eventually bringing up bile. I

reached into the car and grabbed some tissues and bottled water, handing them to her. She wiped her face haphazardly and rinsed her

mouth. Seeing that she had vomited enough, I closed the car door and helped her towards the elevator in the lobby. She mumbled

, "I'm sorry, I lost control." Her legs were still weak, so I wrapped my right

arm supporting her right armpit, letting her bear most of her weight. We entered the elevator, pressed

the button, and the elevator slowly rose.

Suddenly, I felt something strange with my right hand. It turned out that my right hand was under her armpit, my four fingers resting

on the outside of her right breast, her warm, soft, and elastic breast pressing against my fingertips. Her

eyes , her head resting on my right shoulder, and she didn't speak. I took the key from her handbag, fumbled to open the door, helped

her into the bedroom, took off her suit jacket, laid her on the bed, and removed her white high heels. After vomiting, her

face was a little pale. I called out, "Sister," but there was no response; she had probably fallen into a deep sleep.

However, she had vomited, wetting a large area of the front of her shirt and leaving a lot of stains on her skirt.

Changing was necessary, but judging from her condition, she wouldn't wake up for the time being.

Changing her clothes for her was out of the question; if she woke up and found out I had changed her, the consequences would be unimaginable. Suddenly, I wondered if there was a maid in the house. So I

went to check the other rooms, but there was no one there. I returned to the bedroom and saw her pajamas draped on the chair by the bed

. Looking at her wet shirt, I didn't know what to do. Suddenly, I remembered that when I was drunk, I often

couldn't remember what happened after waking up. Seeing how soundly she was sleeping, I figured she would think

she . This was the only way. Her silk blouse was thin, and a large section of the front was wet, clinging to her bra and

the skin of her abdomen. The wet blouse became transparent, clearly

revealing . I gently unbuttoned her blouse, and as each button was undone, her high

breasts, clad in a bra, and her round, delicate navel were revealed. I pulled the hem of her blouse out from under her skirt, then

gently pushed her body into a side-lying position, gently pulled her left arm out of the sleeve, and unzipped

the back of her skirt. Then I turned her back to a supine position, gently lifting her waist and hips with my right hand, slowly pulling

the skirt up to her calves, then lifting her feet and removing the skirt completely. I turned her back to a side-lying position,

completely removing her blouse from her right arm, and finally gently pushed her back to a supine position.

At this moment, before me, her upper body was covered only by a white strapless bra, revealing the lower two-thirds of

her breasts. The upper parts of her breasts, like solidified cream or white jade, gleamed with a sacred light under the soft lamplight. A slender

waist, a flat stomach. Her lower body was encased in white, sheer stockings that reached her waist, and underneath, a small pair

of panties covering her slightly protruding vulva. Through the stockings, a few curly hairs peeked out from the edge of the panties. Below that were

her shapely legs, her small toes neatly pressed together within the stockings…

Faced with such beauty, I knew I couldn't be a saint who could remain unmoved. My heart pounded like a deer, my lower body hardened again,

and I longed to unfasten her bra, caress her breasts, kiss her lips, peel off her stockings and panties, and enter her

body. But I also knew that there are many things in this world that you can only admire, not act upon.

To be fortunate enough to admire them is already a great blessing.

She was still fast asleep. I took her pajamas from the bedside and carefully changed her in them again, then

covered a blanket. I picked up her dirty clothes and draped them over the chair beside the bed. Just as I was about to leave, I suddenly

heard her groan deep in her throat, turn over, curl up in a ball, and furrow her brow. The remaining

alcohol was probably taking effect again. Being drunk and vomiting often leaves one feeling very unwell, especially after drinking too much spirits. I

remembered that whenever I got drunk, my mother would make me a bowl of pepper and egg soup, which would quickly make me

feel better.

So, I went to the kitchen. Great! There was pepper! I found an empty bottle, crushed the pepper,

took two eggs from the refrigerator, and turned on the gas stove. Soon, the kitchen was filled with the aroma of pepper and eggs.

A fragrant bowl of pepper and egg soup was ready, and I carried it to the bedroom. Finally, I managed to wake her.

She sat up, still sleepy. She looked around and said, "Huh? I'm home?" I said:

“Yes, after dinner tonight, the director and the others still had work to do, so I brought you back. I saw you

weren't feeling well, so I took you straight to the bedroom to lie down.” She hesitated for a moment, as if remembering something, and said,

“I know you brought me back. It seems I was drunk, and I even vomited.” I said, “You weren't drunk, you just

probably drank a little too much, and you were a bit carsick on the way back, so it's normal to vomit.” She seemed a little confused,

and lowered her head as if trying to remember something. She saw her pajamas and suddenly said, “After I got back, did I change my

clothes myself?” Fortunately, I was prepared, so I said without showing any emotion, “Yes, after I helped you into the bedroom,

I saw that you had vomited up everything you ate, so your stomach must have been very empty. I saw there was pepper in the kitchen and eggs in the refrigerator.

I heard that it's best to drink some pepper and egg soup after drinking alcohol, so I made you a bowl. When you came in, I found that you

had already changed your clothes.” She looked up at me, and perhaps seeing my sincere expression, or perhaps

believing that she couldn't be too confused, her eyes gradually lost their suspicion. I handed her the soup

, which she took with gratitude in her eyes. "I can't accept your help all night,

" she said. She was truly hungry and began to eat slowly, explaining that she

made this soup for her husband when he came home drunk, and it worked very well. She'd only tasted it briefly, never actually tried it, and was surprised at

how delicious it was. Watching her eat so heartily made me happy too.

Soon, she finished the whole bowl of soup, her complexion regaining its rosy hue.

Just then, the phone by the bed rang. She picked it up. The room was quiet, and I

could hear her clearly. It was her husband calling; he was quite drunk and said he couldn't come home that night,

asking her to immediately turn on the computer and send some urgent document to someone. Hearing that her husband wouldn't be coming home, a flicker of displeasure crossed her face

, but she quickly regained her composure, perhaps used to this situation. She

muttered , "What could be so urgent? Can't I send it tomorrow at work?" as she turned on the computer in the bedroom.

The computer was running incredibly slowly, almost like a Pentium 100 running Windows 98, even though the machine looked

quite new. I asked her what the computer's specs were, and she said she didn't know much about computers, only that it was a Pentium

4 and she'd only bought it six months ago. I said that didn't make sense; how could a Pentium 4 be so slow? She said it wasn't

this slow at first, but it gradually got slower and slower, and she wondered if she'd bought a counterfeit. After a while,

the file was finally sent. I said to her, "This kind of computer problem is usually a software issue,

not a machine problem. Can I take a look?" She said, "Sure, I'm really annoyed by how slow it is. I even

discussed with my husband about having the computer repair shop take it back for repairs, but he keeps putting it off." I took the mouse and

checked the C drive—good heavens! 10GB of space had only 30MB left! No wonder it was so slow. I

explained the situation to her, saying that moving some files to another drive would solve the problem. She asked if it was easy

to fix . I said it was nothing, just about half an hour. She glanced at her watch and said, "Thank you so much

, please fix it for me." So I started selecting files from the C drive that could be moved to other drives.

She watched for a while and then said, "No rush, take your time fixing it. I'm going to take a shower; I feel

uncomfortable ." After selecting everything, the files started moving. For the time being, I didn't have anything else to do.

Looking at the QQ penguin icon on the screen, I suddenly remembered that I'd been busy setting up the banquet all day and hadn't

contacted "Xiaoyu." I wondered if she'd thought of me. So I went online, opened QQ, and immediately heard a "beep beep beep beep" sound

from

seen you all day. I hope nothing's happened to you! I'm going to a cocktail party after work today, and I probably won't be

home until after 8 pm. I hope I can see you online then." Reading the message, my heart warmed. It

was all my fault; I should have just sneaked a little time online this afternoon. I glanced at my watch; it was already past nine. "Xiaoyu" wasn't

online; she'd probably logged off after going home and seeing I wasn't there. Feeling a little guilty, I casually typed a reply to

"Xiaoyu."

Just then, my wife came in after her shower. She had changed into a peach-colored silk nightgown with a subtle floral pattern, a

belt cinching her slender waist, highlighting her high, full breasts and making her appear even more graceful. Her

long, flowing hair cascaded down like a waterfall, and she exuded a captivating post-shower fragrance. As she combed her hair, she asked

, "Is the computer alright?" I replied that it was automatically moving files and would be done soon; I'd just

been online replying to a message from a friend. She laughed and said, "The friend is a woman, right? Have you

met her? Is she pretty?" As she spoke, she curiously leaned closer to examine the computer screen. As I typed,

I replied, "I haven't met her yet, but I think she must be quite nice." Suddenly, I

sensed something was off and looked up at her. Her eyes widened, her mouth agape

, a look of utter astonishment on her face. She even stopped combing her hair. A chill ran through me. Had something

gone wrong ? She looked at me, then at the screen, then back at me, before pointing

excitedly at "Xiaoyu's" avatar on the screen and exclaiming, "You're 'Net Fish'?! I'm 'Xiaoyu'!"

Suddenly , my mind went completely blank. I stood up, looking at her, and she looked at

me. The person I'd been longing for was suddenly right in front of me! For a moment, I thought I was dreaming.

When I came to my senses and confirmed it was true, my heart surged like a raging sea, a stampede of horses. I

couldn't help but reach out and pull her tightly into my arms… The whole world ceased to exist; it was as if

only the two of us remained.

Her arms were wrapped around my waist, her chin resting on my shoulder. Our faces, our bodies, were pressed tightly

together , our hearts pounding rapidly…

After a long while, we calmed down a little. I pulled her to sit on the bed beside me. She nestled in my arms,

her head resting on my arm, her face still flushed with excitement, yet also filled with shyness. We both spontaneously

recalled our first meeting online, and the amusing things that happened during our QQ chats.

When she talked about her husband, her eyes dimmed. She said that in the first few years of their marriage, her husband treated her

well, but after he moved to another place, he gradually changed. He often didn't come home for dinner, and when he did, things were…

They rarely had a proper conversation.

At first, she thought her husband was just busy with work after being transferred to a new location. But later,

he often didn't come home all night, and sometimes when he did, he smelled of an unfamiliar perfume.

They argued about this several times, but each time, he had numerous excuses. She asked me, "Are all men

like this? Once life gets a little better, they start acting recklessly." This was an awkward

question for me; it really does happen in today's society, but I couldn't exactly say "yes" to her! I said, "Perhaps

the director is really busy. If you try to understand him more, things might be better." To escape the awkwardness,

I changed the subject: "Hey, didn't you say you have a son? Where's he?" Mentioning her son,

her brow relaxed. She said her son was over seven years old and about to start second grade. Because the place had just been renovated, they

hadn't had time to transfer him to a nearby school yet, so he was temporarily staying at their old house with her recently retired mother-in-law. She said her son was

very naughty; he had slashed the sofa in their old house with a knife; he had drawn airplanes and cannons all over the walls with colored pens; he

always did his homework while playing with toys; he would stare at the TV while eating; he would take a comic book into the bathroom and

wouldn't come out for half an hour without being called; but sometimes he was very sensible. When his mother was unhappy, he would put the trash

out ; when his mother wasn't feeling well, he would pour her a glass of water and tell her to take her medicine; last year on his mother's birthday, her son

gave her a painting of a villa with a garden, with the words: "For Mom, Happy Birthday!" As she

said this, her eyes reddened, and a crystal tear slid down her cheek.

Hearing her words, my throat felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool, and I couldn't speak. I could only gently

wipe away the tears from the corner of her eyes. She continued, saying that she met me online when she felt most lost and helpless.

Every time we talked on QQ, she felt much lighter. Gradually, whenever she was happy

or unhappy, she liked to chat with me online. Finally, she gently hugged me and said softly, "Many times

when I chat with you, I really want to tell you how much I want to see you." Her hair and body exuded

a captivating fragrance, and her eyes were like a clear pool shrouded in mist. A surge of

tenderness . I looked at her gently, and she looked back at me tenderly. I reached out and gently stroked her

cheek and ear with my whole palm, slowly combing the hair at her temples with my fingers. She closed her eyes, her long eyelashes

trembling slightly. I lowered my head and gently kissed her smooth forehead, her arched eyebrows, her soft eyelids, and

her small, straight nose. She opened her mouth slightly, and I kissed her from the left side of her upper lip, little by little, to the right,

then from the right side of her lower lip, little by little, to the left. Her lips were so soft, and I couldn't help but

kiss them deeply, my tongue lightly touching her teeth. My tongue intertwined with her small, warm tongue in her mouth

, passionately sucking on each other. Her warm breath brushed against my face. My hands,

through the thin silk nightgown, roamed over her shoulders, back, chest, and abdomen, slowly moving upwards, cupping her

full breasts in my palms, gently kneading them with my palms and fingertips. Even through the bra cups, my hands could feel

the firmness, softness, and elasticity of her breasts. Leaving her mouth, my burning lips slid down her chin

to her neck. Her head tilted back, and my lips roamed over her neck.

My hands left her breasts, gently caressing her flat stomach. As my hand moved lower and reached her mons

pubis, her legs involuntarily closed. Perhaps it was the first time she

'd been , and she wasn't completely at ease. So, my hand slid to the side,

stroking her thighs more gently.

My lips touched behind her ear; the skin there was slightly warmer than on her neck. I

kissed along the back of her ear, gently biting her earlobe, my warm breath slowly entering her ear canal. Her

breathing quickened, she opened her mouth, and let out a soft sigh, her breath sweet as orchids. Her legs unconsciously

parted . I lifted the hem of her nightgown, lightly brushing my fingers along the inside of her thighs, slowly moving upwards

until I finally touched the edge of her panties. I first ran my fingertips along the edge of her panties, then used my fingertips to

gently trace her pubic hair and labia through the thin fabric. Finally, I covered her entire vulva with my palm, and

a suppressed moan escaped her throat. The warmth of her genitals radiated from my palm, and my middle finger

felt the slight dampness of her panties at the vaginal opening. I untied the belt of her nightgown and pulled it

up . Perhaps sensing what was about to happen, she obediently raised her hand, allowing me to pull the nightgown over her

head. She buried her face in my chest, avoiding my gaze. I gently laid her on the bed, stroking the smooth,

satin- .

Now, her body, clad only in a bra and panties, was once again before me. Her beautiful hair

was spread across the pillow, and under the lamplight, her watery eyes were particularly captivating, her alluring breasts rising and falling with her breath.

I stripped off my clothes, leaving only my underwear, my erect penis pushing it high. I lay down

beside her, my right hand slipping under her body to pull her into my arms. Our naked bodies pressed tightly together. Her

body was warm, soft, and supple. I kissed her lips, my left hand unhooking her bra. Her

breasts, freed from its restraints, sprang out, pressing against my chest. My lips

moved from her cheeks, across her neck, up and down her cleavage, my nose and chin brushing against her breasts. Her

nipples , erect with blood, resembled two rubies set in the center of her full, white breasts,

the pink areolas around them dotted with tiny, millet-like bumps. I held one of her breasts in my hand, rubbing

her nipple with my palm and massaging the area around the breast with my fingertips. My tongue circled

the areola , occasionally teasing her nipple, which grew even firmer with each movement of my tongue.

Her breathing quickened again, her breath becoming heavy. My hand left her breasts and

slipped inside her panties from the top edge. Her pubic hair was soft, and in the center was a small, sensitive

area . I knew it was sensitive and dared not touch it with my rough fingers, only gently caressing it with my palm.

My fingers touched her warm labia; they were incredibly soft and delicate, and I could only gently stroke them. The lower part of her labia...

Near the vaginal opening, it became slippery. My middle finger tip easily sank into the opening without any effort,

gently sliding in and out of the warm, wet opening.

Above, I would sometimes use my lips to pinch her nipple, lightly sweeping it with my tongue, then take her entire

areola and nipple into my mouth, sucking greedily. Her body began to writhe, her breathing became more rapid, and she

let out soft moans. I withdrew my right hand from under her body and sat up. Her thin, flesh-colored silk panties

were soaked near the vaginal opening, becoming transparent and clinging to her body. I pulled down her panties, knelt between

her legs, and kissed her from the inside of her ankles, down her calves, knees, and inner thighs, inch by inch,

until I reached the root of her thighs. My face was only an inch away from her vulva. On her raised mons pubis,

thick, soft, and glossy black pubic hair grew. Her labia majora parted slightly, revealing pink labia minora. From her moist vaginal opening,

vaginal fluid slowly trickled down to her perineum. At the point where her labia met, her clitoris, about the size of a soybean

, broke through the folds of her labia, standing proudly erect. I extended my tongue, the tip pressing directly against her proud clitoris.

Suddenly stimulated, she shuddered and couldn't help but let out a soft "Ah!" My tongue circled

the base of her clitoris, sometimes teasing it quickly, sometimes taking it entirely into my mouth with my lips, sucking like a nursing

infant . Her most sensitive spot was intensely stimulated; her whole body tensed, her eyes closed tightly,

her head tilted back, her hands gripping the sheets, her chest arching upwards, and her legs bent in a tense motion. I ravaged her

clitoris with a torrent of passion for a while, then my tongue moved down, tracing the labia majora and minora, occasionally

licking them extensively. Her labia minora, engorged and purplish-red from engorgement, swelled up. Some of the vaginal

fluid down her perineum onto the sheets, while some was carried upwards by my tongue, leaving her entire vulva

soaking wet. I pressed my face close to her vulva, gently touching her clitoris with the tip of my nose. I tensed my tongue muscles,

inserting it into her vagina in a cylindrical shape, moving in and out, while simultaneously

teasing . She was extremely aroused, her body twisting violently, her hips swaying from side to side,

moaning incessantly. Finally, she could no longer endure it, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me upwards forcefully.

I was also ready to pounce. I pulled down my underwear, leaned against her, propped myself up with my right hand, and grasped my already

throbbing , pressing the engorged glans against her vaginal opening. She held her breath, and I thrust my hips forward, my entire

penis plunging into her, the glans reaching her very core! The unbearable emptiness was finally filled

, and she let out a long moan, "Ah??" Her insides were warm and wet, my penis enveloped

tightly . To let her fully experience the feeling of fullness, I paused for a moment before starting. I

slowly withdrew to the vaginal opening, then quickly entered again,

gradually slapping against her mons pubis with a "slap, slap" sound.

She closed her eyes, moaning "Oh my god? Oh my god," her hands gripping my waist, her breasts trembling

with rapid thrust. Suddenly, her whole body convulsed, her hands tightly gripping me, her

vagina contracting rhythmically around my penis, a gush of hot liquid pouring onto my glans? She had reached orgasm.

I almost lost control too, I quickly positioned myself, my glans pressed against her clitoris, motionless. I leaned down,

pressing my body close to hers, my lips meeting hers, my tongue darting out. She wrapped her arms around my neck,

forcefully sucking my tongue deep into her mouth. Slowly, her vaginal contractions stopped, her body softened

, and I kissed her while caressing her swollen breasts, my lower body beginning to move again. After

her earlier orgasm, her vagina was warmer and smoother, I gently thrust in and out, savoring the

intoxicating comfort. Then I withdrew to the vaginal opening, my glans lightly rubbing against it, once, twice…

When I counted to nine, she was unbearably itchy, and I suddenly thrust deeply inside her, she couldn't help but let out a soft "Ah!" Deep inside

, I paused briefly, then returned to the vaginal opening, eight shallow thrusts followed by one deep one, seven shallow thrusts followed by one deep one…

She, too, became attuned; each time I was about to penetrate, she would hold her breath, arching her hips to welcome my

thrusts

. After a few rounds, she began to arouse again, her cervix hardening deep within her vagina. I remained deep inside her, my penis making circular motions within her, the glans massaging her clitoris in circles. I

placed my hands under her buttocks, vigorously rubbing them, while my middle fingers massaged her wet perineum. She happily enjoyed

the full, stimulating sensation within her. I stopped the grinding motion, spurred on the horse, and began a rapid, deep thrust, the "slap slap" of our bodies colliding echoing in

the room once more. Her emotions grew increasingly heightened, her beautiful hair

swaying from side to side with the movement of her head, her mouth uttering ecstatic cries, her body contorting like a snake. My pace quickened,

my penis grew harder and harder, and my glans burned hotter and hotter. Finally, she held me tightly with both hands, her body arched again,

and with the contraction of her vaginal muscles, her cervix gushed out hot fluid once more. My glans went numb, and with an overwhelming pleasure,

a gush of hot, thick semen shot out, splashing onto her vulva again and again…

??? Now, almost two years have passed. Due to my classmate's business dealings with her husband,

we haven't seen each other since that night, only able to confide in each other online. Not long after, she and her son went to

the United States, and she was too busy with work to go online often. Occasionally, we still contact each other online, but I know that the online feelings we shared before

, and the passion of that night, can only remain deep in my memory.

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