The Bar Owner's Lust 04

So how exactly do you do it? This is my standard strategy when flirting with bar owners.

The key points of this strategy are:

1. Always be a gentleman, protecting, helping, and comforting women.

2. Don't make promises lightly, especially not promises made with the intention of sleeping together.

3. Be rational during the courtship, maintain distance, and decide whether to close that distance based on the results of your observation.

4. As a man, be generous and magnanimous; never let a woman lose both her body and her money. Of course, women's desires are very open these days, and sleeping together is also a woman's own need. But as a man, it's still better to be generous.

5. Constantly remind her that this is just a period of getting to know each other, not necessarily marriage. Of course, you can express this very tactfully, lowering her expectations. This way, if things go well, she'll be pleasantly surprised; if not, she won't be deeply hurt.

6. Most women have self-respect; if your reasons for not pursuing them are sufficient and appropriate, they will leave on their own. Of course, you'll always encounter a couple of persistent individuals. In these cases, you must be decisive and not be soft-hearted. Those who threaten marriage will never have a good life.

And many women who are willing to sleep with men are actually looking for marriage.

Sure enough, after the second time she came to my house to do some business, the landlady jokingly asked, "Will you marry me?"

"I haven't considered it yet," I said honestly, lowering her expectations. "You

're not divorced yet." "What if I were?"

"That depends on how well we get along. But I suggest you don't decide whether to divorce or not because of me. Honestly, I think it's best for couples to stay together. You need to calmly weigh whether you and that person can still live together. It's your own choice, and I don't want to interfere with your decision. If I tricked you into getting a divorce, and then I couldn't be with you, I would find it hard to bear that kind of pressure."

"I can't live with him anymore," she said. "We're practically dead in all but name. He's never home, he has no money, he does nothing, and we barely have any sex life. A husband like that is better off without; at least he won't annoy me. I wouldn't have slept with you if I wasn't absolutely certain we were over."

"Oh," I breathed a sigh of relief. "That's good. Take your time and see how things go. I have many flaws too, and they're hard to change. You need to understand me fully before making a choice. If you get divorced once, you can find someone suitable again, but if you get divorced twice, it'll be difficult after several years."

"I know."

At that moment, I suddenly remembered that her thick lips hadn't yet played the flute for me. "Can you blow on it for me?" I asked.

She smiled, grasped my erection, and looked at it. "No, our relationship isn't at that stage yet."

Okay, good. I didn't force her; she herself had drawn a line for us.

From then on, every time we had sex, it was in this apartment.

Of course, this bed wasn't exclusively hers; she wasn't the first woman to lie on it, nor would she be the last.

But the third time we had sex, something went wrong—I got erectile dysfunction.

It's embarrassing to admit, but this was the first time in my life I'd ever had erectile dysfunction. I panicked, trying desperately to regain my erection.

She cooperated, stroking and pinching.

But the more panicked I became, the weaker I felt, and all my efforts failed.

That's it, am I now an erectile dysfunction sufferer?

After completely giving up, I calmed down and thought about why I had erectile dysfunction.

After trying to recall, I found the reason.

I always remembered how sexy and alluring she looked in fishnet stockings when I first saw her.

If we're talking about what attracted me, those fishnet stockings accounted for 50%.

Fishnet stockings are a symbol of promiscuity. Although she was beautiful and very feminine, I still accepted her provocative appearance.

By the third time we had sex, her naked body was no longer a novelty; I kept thinking about her in fishnet stockings.

Her naked body made her look like an average beauty, but I wanted her to be the one in fishnet stockings. But she wasn't wearing any, and I wasn't prepared, so I was disappointed, distracted, and ended up having an erection.

But other downloaded videos also featured her completely naked, so why didn't I have an erection then?

I think it's because I've seen too many videos; I've become aesthetically fatigued. I needed visual stimulation, I needed something more intense.

I confessed my first reason to her.

She seemed a little surprised: "Wearing fishnet stockings during sex? How do you do that?"

"Cut a hole in the middle, or wear those long fishnet stockings with garter straps."

"Wearing stockings? I've only ever seen that in porn. What does it feel like?"

I didn't say much, just pulled out a rare Woodpecker porn film and showed it to her.

Woodpecker's films are indeed well-made, the actresses are beautiful, sexy, and dressed glamorously, and every woman wears stockings and high heels.

Of course, the men are handsome too.

That film had some SM elements, bondage, whipping, handcuffs, etc. In short, it looked very elegant.

She got aroused, her whole body swaying.

I felt it too; I'd won over ED with AV. "From now on, will you wear that outfit during sex?" I pleaded.

She pursed her lips, noncommittal. I understood; that was tacit consent.

I was going to buy her stockings and heels.

She was just tacitly consenting; she wouldn't buy them on her own initiative. I wouldn't force her either.

Of course, a grown man like me couldn't possibly go to a mall to buy these things. I'm not a fetishist, not a pervert. I just like women wearing these things in bed.

Because now is an era against vulgarity, we need to improve our taste and pursue elegance.

So I wanted to say goodbye to the vulgar, rustic, peasant-style sex of northern Shaanxi and enter the elegant Parisian era of sex.

I got everything on Taobao: two pairs of 10cm heels, several pairs of stockings. Black, nude, brown, and fishnet.

I didn't know that this chance encounter with ED would usher in a new era of online shopping for me.

After that, I would prepare several pairs of high heels, several pairs of stockings, and several garter belts for each document.

These items were locked in different cabinets, only taken out for each document to wear.

A complete upgrade.

The fourth time, before our date, we discussed and arranged a time on QQ.

I told her I had bought these things.

She was surprised; she thought I was just saying it casually.

I said no, I really like it when you wear them.

She asked: "You're not going to abuse me like in porn, are you?"

I countered: "Are you willing to be abused by me?"

She said: "Playing games is fine, but don't do it for real."

I said: "Don't worry, do I look like a violent person?"

She was reassured and arrived at my house on time.

She took a shower first. I took my things out and told her, "Put these on, I'll go shower." After she put them on, she sat in that chair and waited for me, her legs crossed over the armrests.

When my apartment was first renovated, a room was specifically set aside as a gym, so there was a huge mirror on the wall, taking up the entire surface.

I moved the computer chair from the study in front of the mirror, directly facing it.

That way, when she sat in the computer chair, she could clearly see her own reflection.

When I came out after showering, she was already dressed and obediently sat on the chair as I had instructed, her long legs spread wide over the armrests, waiting for me.

Sure enough, the intense stimulation made my blood boil.

I walked behind her, looked at the two of us in the mirror, and asked, "Do you think you're beautiful?"

"What do you think?" she asked.

"Beautiful, so beautiful. I love it."

"I'm glad you like it."

I turned around and took two ties I no longer used from the closet, blindfolded her, and tied her hands behind her back.

"Please don't hurt me," she pleaded.

Looking at the beautiful woman before me, doing everything I asked, and thinking that we hadn't even known each other a few months ago, I felt a surge of conquest.

I've always felt that merely getting a woman into bed is far from conquest.

True conquest is about ordering her to do everything obediently.

A man can be tender and protective of a woman outside the bedroom, but in bed, he must be the dominant one.

My conquest isn't limited to what she wears, but rather that she must accept every command I give.

Of course, I won't hurt her; that's the bottom line.

I just want to make her comfortable, to let her experience a comfort she can't get from her good-for-nothing husband, a comfort so intense it'll make her feel like she's dying and coming back to life.

Otherwise, it would be a waste.

I crouched down and reached into her [redacted - likely a place name].

"Carry me to the bed," she said.

"Okay."

I was about to get up and carry her when she grabbed me and said, "Don't come out, just carry me to the bed like this."

Damn, normally this would be quite difficult.

But today was so exciting; I actually pulled off this kind of acrobatic feat with ease.

She draped her legs over my shoulders, [xxxxxxx (2342 words, 10 photos, and one video were deleted here)].

Afterwards, she nestled in my arms, her body covered in sweat.

"It felt so good today."

"I told you, playing like this is really exciting."

"Yeah."

"Don't ask me to tell you anymore, just put it on when you come here, okay?"

"Okay."

"When were you most comfortable?"

"On the chair, it was especially comfortable.

" "Was that when you came?"

"Yeah. Once."

"So you came twice."

"Yeah."

"Which time was more comfortable?"

"The one on the chair."

I lit a cigarette and asked, "How are things with your husband?"

"Still the same."

"It's been several months."

"Sigh. He just keeps begging me to give him another chance. To be honest, sometimes I feel a little sorry for him."

"Do you still have faith in him?"

"I don't."

"Then will you give him another chance?"

"I don't want to give it up. But we have a son, after all. So, it's not for his sake, it's because the child is pitiful."

I understood; her marriage wouldn't be finalized anytime soon.

"After all, you two are the original spouses. I've always advocated that if he can change, you should continue. Perhaps, this time, your firm stance on divorce will scare him."

"I hope he will be scared."

"If that's the case, and I need to step aside, I will." I said insincerely. Actually, I didn't want to step aside at all, because having sex with her felt so good. Besides, she was a nice person, someone I could be friends with.

"You don't need to step aside." She grabbed me as if afraid I would leave. "I'm just giving him a chance for the sake of the child, but it's none of our business."

She wouldn't divorce, and she would maintain a long-term relationship with me.

"This will damage your relationship," I said. "If you're determined to give him a chance, then at least tone it down and don't go too far. Don't let him know about our relationship."

"Okay, I know."

"I won't contact you first anymore; just contact me when you need me."

"Okay. You're so thoughtful; you always make people feel comfortable."

I smiled.

"Do you really think I'm good?" I asked.

"Yes, you've shown me what a real man is like."

I was very happy: "So, do you think our relationship has reached the point where I can brag about it?"

She smiled and knelt down to suckle earnestly.

"Like this, suck it all out for me." I closed my eyes comfortably.

The feeling of conquering a woman is wonderful.

This relationship with her lasted for three or four months; basically, she would ask me out once a week on weekends. Playing with stockings, bondage, oral sex, handjobs.

I really grew to like her more and more. She was simple, lively, and submissive, and enjoyed being slightly masochistic.

During this time, I learned she was planning to open a clothing store. I asked her if she needed funding.

She said no, that she would only run the store as big as she could afford, and that she wouldn't feel secure doing business with borrowed money.

I bought her clothes and jewelry, but she accepted them. However

, a few months later, she didn't call or ask me out for a long time. I guessed she and her husband might have reconciled.

I never called to urge her. Since they were back together, why should I disrupt their peace?

Although I was reluctant to lose such a beauty, her happiness was more important than my desires. When she needed me, that was her need; when she didn't need me, I should leave and wish her happiness.

I saw her again in September 2008. She called me, saying she wanted to have dinner together, not a rendezvous.

I went to the hotel as agreed, and we ate together.

Afterwards, she asked me to take a walk with her by the lake in the park.

We found a bench and sat down. She told me that her clothing store had opened and business was good.

She was so beautiful; she was a living advertisement for the clothes herself.

She also said that her husband had become more honest after seeing how much money she was making. Now, she was the one in charge at home.

She wouldn't divorce him again.

As it grew dark, only the two of us remained on the bench.

She nestled in my arms, saying she was very grateful to me for bringing her happiness during her most painful and repressed time, and for persuading her to return to her family.

She didn't see her infidelity as a burden, but rather as settling scores with her husband for his past incompetence. She no longer felt wronged and was even nicer to him.

We caressed each other, gradually slipping our hands inside our clothes, but there was no sex. Finally, she said, "You're a gentleman, don't forget me."

I really wanted to tell her that I wasn't a gentleman at all, that I was an e-motorcycle constantly downloading files.

But, since she had such wonderful memories, why should I expose her?

The last time I saw her was at the end of 2008. By then, I had decided to immigrate and had completed the formalities to leave.

I said goodbye to all my downloaded files, except for that marriage-obsessed woman who threatened to commit suicide.

I called the female boss and told her I was leaving and wanted to see her one last time.

We arranged to meet at the bar she used to run, hoping to relive the old days.

But unfortunately, the bar had changed its style after being sold, and inside sat several burly men and effeminate men flirting.

I smiled and said, "They've really found their niche."

She laughed too.

We went out and went to the park again. One last hug and kiss, one last time I reached under her clothes to caress her, telling her to take care.

I never saw her again after that. We sometimes met on MSN, but it was always just polite small talk. Neither of us brought up the passion and lust that had happened between us.

But I believe that this memory holds a beautiful place in both my heart and hers.

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