The Changes of a Married Woman 2

After hanging up his call, I was too weak to get up from the sofa and slowly drifted off to sleep. In my dream, I was sitting in a small boat on a clear blue lake, slowly heading towards a thick fog. As the fog thickened, I couldn't see anything around me, only the green water shimmering with smoke near the edge of the boat. I reached out and touched the water beside the boat, feeling its warmth, as if small fish were kissing my palm. As the fog grew heavier, I felt rain was about to fall. In my terror, I searched for a way back, my panic driving me to seek out any sounds that could lead me out of this maze. When I awoke from my terror, I found my husband sitting on the sofa, holding my hand and kissing my palm.
He noticed something was wrong with my expression and asked what was wrong, if I wasn't feeling well. I was too ashamed to answer. He took my phone from the sofa, and when he saw the messages on it, he understood everything.
That night, in bed, I told my husband about my impulsive actions and the shame of being rejected. He didn't blame me at all; on the contrary, he seemed particularly excited as he listened to my story. He loved me more passionately than usual, and while loving me, he tried his best to comfort me, telling me not to feel ashamed because of it.
For a long time, H didn't come to my house, and I couldn't find him online either. I felt a mix of anticipation and fear of meeting him. A sense of melancholy weighed on my heart.
One day,
my husband was away at a meeting, and I came home alone from work, bored and watching TV. When the doorbell rang, I couldn't guess who it would be. I opened the door and saw H standing there. He usually went with my husband to meetings. Surprised, I let him in, and the moment the door closed behind him, he grabbed me tightly. Before I was even ready for his storm of affection, he carried me to the bedroom and onto the bed.
He pressed himself against me, kissing me passionately, making it hard to breathe. Accustomed to my husband's gentleness, this sudden intensity gave me a thrilling excitement. His almost frenzied lovemaking left me breathless and weak. In his kisses, I melted into a clear spring, welcoming his intensity. Our clothes were removed one by one during our intimacy, and when we embraced naked, every pore on my skin swelled. His delicate yet strong hands caressed my chest, and I closed my eyes helplessly, savoring the pleasure brought by his every subtle gesture.
He didn't utter a single extra word during our intimacy, unlike my husband who would utter passionate words. His thick lips, accompanied by intense, warm breaths, sometimes kissed my earlobes and neck, sometimes suckled wildly between my breasts, sometimes forcefully searched for my tongue between my lips. His passionate kisses melted my insides, turning them into a crystalline liquid that flowed from my body. A demonic desire within me madly wanted to draw him in, and I opened every crevice of my body to welcome his intrusion. As he penetrated me with his hardness, I let out soft cries from the abyss of desire. He transmitted his passion within me with his hardness, and I felt like a rudderless boat, pushed by his fervor to the crest of one wave after another. The waves grew more violent with his increasingly rapid breathing, and when a hiss came from deep within his throat, a torrent of water calmed all the intensity and fervor.
He nestled quietly against my chest, the sweat on his face making my skin so smooth. His face rubbed gently between my breasts, his tongue sucking on my nipples. He buried his face in my neck and softly asked, "Sister! Is it comfortable?"
I was too weak to answer, only offering a sweet, satisfied smile. I searched for his lips, gently kissing his sweet breath. I didn't want any extra words to disturb this sweet moment. I gently pulled him closer, nestled in his arms, and listened to the rhythm of his heartbeat, slowly drifting into a half-dreaming, half-awake state.
"Sister! I want some water," I heard him call in my half-awake state.
I got him a drink from the refrigerator. I went to the bedside and saw him leaning against the headboard, looking at me with bloodshot eyes.
I suddenly remembered to ask him, "Why didn't you go to the meeting with your older brother?"
"My older brother told me not to go, he wanted me to come and keep you company."
"Oh! Really?" I asked in surprise.
"Yes! These past few days, my older brother has talked to me a lot."
I didn't know what to say, so I sat quietly on the edge of the bed, suddenly understanding why all this had happened.
"My older brother told me that he loves you very much and hopes I can bring you some happiness. When I rejected you, it wasn't because I didn't like you, but because I was afraid of letting my older brother down..."
I didn't want him to continue, so I reached out and covered his mouth. He kissed the hand that was covering his mouth. Gently, he pulled me into his arms again. Another embrace, another kiss, slowly rekindling the passion that had just faded. He repeated his kisses, repeated his intensity. He repeatedly pushed me to the crest of a surging wave.
VII.
When the passion faded again, we lay half-reclined on the edge of the bed, unsure what to talk about. Unlike my husband, who was usually very talkative, he gently held me, and I could only feel his hands casually caressing my body. Just then, my husband called. I hesitated for a moment before answering.
"Hello! Honey, what are you doing?" he asked affectionately as usual.
"Nothing much?" I didn't know how to answer.
"How are you feeling?"
"How do I feel?" I tried to hide my embarrassment. I knew he knew everything I had just experienced, but I still tried to avoid the topic.
"Don't be shy. As long as you're happy, I don't care about anything. Enjoy your happiness." I was speechless in the face of my husband's comfort, remaining silent for a long time.
"What's wrong, honey?" My husband asked anxiously when he saw I hadn't answered for a long time.
At that moment, my nose tingled, and I felt like crying.
Seeing that I didn't answer my husband, H took the phone and said to him, "Brother, sister is fine, don't worry, she's alright." I couldn't hear what my husband was saying, only H agreeing to him repeatedly.
H hung up the phone and hugged me tightly again. His warm lips kissed my sore nose and tearful eyes repeatedly. As his lips brushed against my ear, he whispered, "Big brother is so good."
Hearing H mention her husband, an instinct made me push him away, refusing his kiss. I leaned quietly against the headboard, while H stared at me blankly like a child who had done something wrong. He reached out and stroked my hairline, asking, "What's wrong, sister?"
"Nothing, let me have some peace and quiet. You should rest."
"Sister, did I make you unhappy?"
I couldn't bear to see his disappointment, so I pulled his head to my chest and gently said, "No, it's not your fault. You're tired, go to sleep."
He nestled against my chest, and I felt his warm breath soothing my heart. I gently stroked his strong, smooth back, and my mood gradually improved. He slowly drifted off to sleep under my gentle caresses. I admired the rise and fall of his broad back with his even breathing, and smelled the delicate fragrance emanating from his hair. I couldn't bear to move my body, couldn't bear to let my slightest movement break the alluring scene before me. Only when my arm ached did I pull my sore hand from under his strong body, and nestled myself back into his embrace, slowly drifting into my dream within his arms.
VIII.
For the next few days, H and I were immersed in the fervor of our passionate love. Since our neighbors and colleagues all knew he was my husband's secretary, our interactions didn't arouse any suspicion or doubt. The passion and excitement I'd long forgotten made me rediscover my youth.
When my husband returned from his business trip, a few awkwardness and shyness made me blush when our eyes met for the first time. He, however, seemed particularly excited, his eyes filled with a strange, undisguised joy.
After dinner, my husband eagerly pulled me to bed, a long-dormant passion igniting within him. He kissed me while asking about my time with H. I had thought he would be upset because of H, and in the time leading up to his return, I had been thinking about how to make amends and comfort him. But seeing his excitement and impulsiveness upon his return, it was as if he, not me, was the one experiencing the affair. The deep sense of guilt I felt slowly vanished in his excitement. He tried to recreate the passionate scenes between me and H from my words, trying to share my joy from my fragments of conversation. He ignited his own passion from my happiness.
My husband hadn't felt this excited and impulsive with me in a long time, and I tried my best to reciprocate his passion. While we were passionately in love, he kept asking me about the details of our time with H. Every word I uttered about H was a fuse igniting his passion. Slowly, through his questions, I recalled the impulse I felt with H, and that feeling returned to my husband and me.
When we were both completely exhausted by the flames of passion, I felt like a sail returning to its harbor in a storm, quietly lingering in his comfort zone. I could only repay my husband's love with a deep kiss.
Nine,
I rested in the afterglow of my husband's passion. As the passion slowly faded from me, I worried whether my husband could truly face my infidelity after the passion subsided, whether my behavior would make him think I was a promiscuous woman and look down on me. A sense of regret crept into my heart after I calmed down. Looking at my husband's body, emptied by passion, sleeping peacefully beside me, I dared not imagine what his expression would be when he woke up.
Insomnia struck me amidst my husband's snoring. I gradually felt a pang of guilt, a sense of unease seeping from his gentle snoring into my sleepless heart.
In the early morning, I felt my husband kissing me in my half-asleep state. I kept my eyes closed, not wanting to wake up too soon. In this half-awake state, I savored his tenderness, worried that opening my eyes would shatter his passion.
With my eyes still closed, I asked him, "Are you really not going to regret it? You won't blame me?"
"Of course," he answered without hesitation.
He continued kissing me, a passion long dormant, as if something had awakened a dormant desire within him, bringing him back to the state of their early marriage.
I held my passionate husband tightly, sensing his renewed impulse.
In the following days, the attention and affection my husband showed me completely dispelled my anxieties. Every time we were in bed, his desire would be awakened by my words, as if the excitement from my affair with H far surpassed mine. He was always happy for the pleasure I sought.
Another weekend arrived, and when I returned home from work, I was surprised to see H sitting on the sofa in the living room watching TV. I was at a loss for words. When my husband, who hadn't cooked in years, emerged from the kitchen, I was even more surprised.
An indescribable awkwardness restrained H and me. During dinner, only my husband enthusiastically tried to find topics to break the awkwardness. H and I merely responded to his enthusiasm.
After dinner, the three of us sat in the living room watching TV. My husband, perhaps sensing our embarrassment, went to the study to surf the internet, leaving H and me silently watching TV on the sofa. H and I didn't know what to say, exchanging only unrelated remarks. At that moment, I truly doubted whether H still harbored any passion for me. Looking at him sitting unfamiliarly at the other end of the sofa, I couldn't find the passion I had felt a few days ago.
My husband called H into the study. When H returned to the living room, a shy smile graced his face. He gently came to my side, leaning close and wrapping his arms around my waist. I still couldn't shake the earlier coldness; my stiff body couldn't find the feeling of wanting to lean on him.
H whispered in my ear, "Sister, I'm really embarrassed to be too affectionate with you in front of my brother."
He held me tightly, his cold lips kissing my ear. I could feel his tension from his icy lips. I knew my husband had called him to give me tenderness. As I slowly relaxed in his embrace, his tension gradually subsided. When I nestled in his arms, his cold lips reignited their flame. His tender kisses burned within me as well.
When my husband came out of the study, I was completely limp in H's arms. My husband approached us, reaching out to caress me. Amidst the kisses and caresses of the two men, my clothes gradually came off. My husband told me to take a shower and go to bed. When I lay down on the spacious bed after my shower, my husband and H were still watching TV in the living room. I couldn't hear what they were saying, and a mix of tension and excitement was simmering within me. I couldn't imagine what would happen next.
First
to enter my bedroom was H. Having just showered, he gently closed the door and came to my side. When his hand touched me, another electric shock ran through my body. He gently embraced me, burying his head in the hair at the nape of my neck. His sweet scent drew me to kiss his tender lips. I felt like a thirsty wanderer emerging from the desert, yearning for his passion to nourish me.
His kisses went from gentle to fierce, searching for intensity between my lips and teeth. Guided by his kisses, I gradually reached the peak of passion. As I melted into softness by passion, he gently entered my warm, moist body. He remained still inside me, relentlessly assaulting my breasts with his abundant kisses. I craved his more vigorous movements to satisfy the desires within me. I placed my hands firmly between his strong thighs, wholeheartedly welcoming his thrusts. As he sensed my intense need, he gradually pushed me to the peak of passion, from slow to fast. With each powerful thrust, I couldn't help but let out frantic cries. When a hurricane propelled me to the highest point, I clung tightly to his neck, convulsing.
I had never reached orgasm so quickly before, yet H remained hard inside me. He simply paused, savoring the flush on my face after the climax. Tender kisses and gentle embraces left me basking in blissful tranquility afterward. As I completely relaxed on the pillow, he gently held me, his kisses wiping away the lingering heat of passion from my ear.
Then, my husband gently opened the bedroom door. He sat on the edge of the bed, stroking my flushed face, and softly asked, "Darling! Was it good?"
I nodded gently, stretching out my arms to embrace him tightly. Gratitude and shame intertwined; I could only repay him with my embrace and kisses.
H gently withdrew from my body, and I turned to embrace my husband, who was sleeping on my left. H wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, resting his face against my back. I could feel H still excited and hard behind me. My husband embraced me from the front, kissing my sweat-drenched chest incessantly. I felt the excitement and care of the two men in front of me. Amidst their excitement, a fervor reignited within me.
I reached out, gently guiding H's hardness, letting him enter my body from behind. H thrust forcefully behind me again and again, striking the deepest veins of my soul. My husband embraced and kissed me tightly from the front. H's thrusts ignited a passion, a passion transmitted to my husband through our kisses, which excited him.
In the instant H paused, my husband entered me violently, his long-forgotten passion reawakened. He lifted his upper body and pounded against me, trying to make the flames of passion burn even more fiercely. H held me tightly, kissing me with his panting lips, sucking hard between my lips as I cried out. My husband and H took turns working inside me. I was sandwiched between two frenzied men, enduring the passion of two people. The limbs of the three men were intertwined, and the two of them pushed me towards the peak of orgasm. One orgasm after another crashed over me with the thrusting of the two men. I was submerged in this surging tide.
The two men unleashed their passion in wave after wave of frenzy, and when they calmed down, I collapsed helplessly between them, as if every bone in my body had been torn apart by their passion. Their once-powerful limbs softened, each of them cupping one of my breasts and whispering in my ear.

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The Changes of a Married Woman 2

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